#even if they only make it a few fics in. i'm shocked at the declaration to even try

[chaoslynx]

just got a comment on my first fic with the reader saying they didn't know what to do now that Love Letters ended and decided to read all my fics chronologically

[surftrips]

ABOUT YOU | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

request: luke x reader fluff w like an aphrodite!reader? reader is all sunshine and flowers and makes luke all soft/campers teasing luke abt the way reader changed him 🤭

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is probably my favorite luke fic that i've written so far thank u so much anon for sending this request in! writing aphrodite!reader is so much fun, i'm such a sucker for the opposites trope. hope you all enjoy 🤍

You were the human embodiment of sunshine, a real life angel. Gentle, kind, and lovely— in other words, the complete and total opposite of Luke Castellan. He was dark and broody, strong and rough, and not totally unfriendly, but definitely intimidating. 

But even if you weren’t the daughter of Aphrodite, Luke believed that you would still be just as beautiful. There was something in the way you carried yourself that had made his heart surrender the second he laid eyes on you. You became the one and only exception in his long list of grievances. 

So it came as no surprise to anyone at camp when the two of you started dating, just to the dismay of many of your admirers and a few of Luke’s as well. If there was one thing you had in common, it was your beauty. With his puppy dog eyes and curly brown hair, Luke was a sight for sore eyes, almost as much as you were. 

One day, you were walking hand in hand when one of the younger campers accidentally bumped into Luke. On any other occasion, Luke might have started an altercation, but today, he simply smiled and said, “Just be careful next time.” The camper stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked into place as you softly giggled.

“What?” he smiled, looking over at you as the kid took it as an opportunity to run away. 

“Nothing,” you mused. “Just that I think you’re getting soft, Luke Castellan.” You poked a finger at his chest playfully. 

“What?” he shook his head. “No, I’m not.” 

Though he attempts to keep a serious face, you could see the amusement in his eyes. He often looked at you like this, ready to go along with anything you said— no matter how silly or whimsical your remarks. 

“Okay, lover boy. Whatever you say,” you shrugged, offering him a kiss on his cheek that instantly causes color to rush into his face. Ignoring that he’s just proven your point, he attempts to hide his expression by seeking solace in the crook of your neck. He would never admit it to anyone, but he often thought his favorite place at camp was the spot in between your jaw and collarbone. 

Even though most of the campers were still a little frightened by the idea of approaching Luke, his closest friends were not afraid to speak their minds. 

“Dude, you’re like, totally whipped for her,” Percy remarked over lunch once. 

“And you’re like, totally fourteen years old,” Luke said.

“I think the fourteen year old’s right,” Chris jumped in.

“Dude! I thought you were supposed to have my back,” Luke throws up his arms in mock aggravation.

The two boys snickered, causing Luke to speak up again. “I am not whipped for Y/N.” 

“Oh, sure,” Chris began. “So the reason you’re practically skipping around camp and letting whatever team Aphrodite cabin is in win Capture the Flag is because…?” 

“Oh, and don’t forget the constant checking his phone to see if she texted back and sharing his blanket with her at the campfire!” Percy pointed out. “Meanwhile, I’m over here freezing…” 

“Maybe,” Luke scrambled to come up with an answer. “Maybe, I was just in a really good mood those days. It could have absolutely nothing to do with Y/N.” 

He barely believed the words himself, and Chris and Percy were certainly not convinced. Luke wasn’t even sure why he felt the need to defend himself. 

“Dude, it’s okay if you are, she’s literally your girlfriend,” Chris said.

“Hey! I have an idea, let’s ask Annabeth!” Percy declared.

“Annabeth? Why her?” Luke furrowed his brow. 

“Because, she’s a girl. And she’s known you the longest, she can give us a real answer,” Percy said matter-of-factly. 

Luke thought it over. The young boy was technically right, Annabeth was like a little sister to him. If anyone could tell if he had changed since dating you, it would be her. This came as both a good and bad realization to him, because what if he had changed? Gods, was it that obvious? 

Before he could agree to asking Annabeth, the young girl was already at their table. Percy must have called her over while Luke was thinking. 

“What’s up?” she asked, sitting down across from him with her plate of food. 

“Oh, nothing, just talking about how soft Luke has gotten since he started dating Y/N,” Chris explained with a grin on his face. 

“Oh?” Annabeth said, seemingly amused. 

“Yeah, we actually wanted to get your opinion,” Percy continued. “Would you say you agree or disagree, that you know, Luke is nicer now that he’s with Y/N?”

Annabeth seemed to think it over for a second. “Gods, you guys are such children,” she scoffed. 

“Thank you!” Luke cut in.

“I mean, all of you,” she looked at Luke pointedly. “Why do you care what a bunch of kids think about you anyway? And not that it matters, but you, Castellan, are most definitely whipped for Y/N.” 

That shut Luke up immediately, and caused cheers to erupt from Chris and Percy, who were clapping each other on their backs as if they had just won Capture the Flag. 

Annabeth smiled and shrugged her shoulders, as if to say “Sorry, Luke. It’s true.” 

Later that night, Luke snuck over to the Aphrodite Cabin to find you. You were surprised when Luke woke you up, it had been a while since he came seeking your comfort in the middle of the night. He used to have bad nightmares, but you noticed he had gotten better since you started dating. You’d like to think it was because of you, but perhaps that would be thinking too highly of yourself.  

In an effort to clear his mind, you suggested to go on a walk together. He agreed, and you climbed out of bed as quietly as you could.

You allowed him a few minutes of silence until his heavy breathing had slowed down and his grip on your hand had loosened. 

“What’s on your mind, hon?” you asked softly. 

Luke didn’t respond at first, distracting himself by tracing the lines on the palm of your hand. You were happy to give him as much time as he needed, placing your other hand on his back and gently drawing circles.

After a while, he did speak up. “Uhm, do you think that I’m, like, unapproachable?” 

Your heart sank and you stopped in your tracks. “What makes you say that?” 

“I don’t know, it’s just something that’s been on my mind recently.” 

“Luke, is this about what I said to you the other day? Because I didn’t mean it like that—” 

“No, baby,” he rushed. The last thing he wanted was for you to think you had done something wrong. He wasn’t sure that you could ever do wrong, not in his eyes. “I was just talking to Percy and Chris at lunch today and they were kind of teasing me.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of your boyfriend, Mr. Tough Guy, being teased by a few kids younger than him. “I’m sorry, babe. Continue,” you placed a supportive hand on his chest as you regained your composure. 

“They said that I’ve changed since we started dating.” 

Though you were an expert in human emotion, there were still times you couldn’t read the expression on Luke’s face. You couldn’t tell if he thought of this as a bad thing, or if he was just curious to see what you thought. You decided on the latter. “Changed how so?” 

“They think I’m soft now because I’m always in a good mood and stuff…” he trailed off. Even now, in the dark of the night, you could tell he was blushing.

“Well,” you started, trying to find the right words. “You know, I was just teasing you the other day, babe. I think you’ve always been this way.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I think you’ve always been a giant teddy bear,” you grinned, unable to contain yourself. “Luke, you’re not as bad as everyone thinks you are.” 

By now, both of you had stopped walking. Ever since Luke arrived at camp, he had been characterized as the tough, stony, and slightly antagonistic guy. All because of a scar he carried and the stories of what he had gone through with Annabeth and Thalia. Many people were still intimidated by him, despite his position as the counselor in Hermes and his job to welcome newcomers. It had been so long, he wasn’t sure if this was the way he was, or the way that he was made to be. 

As if reading his thoughts, you said, “You don’t have to be what they tell you to be. Do you know the words I use to describe you when someone asks me about you?” 

Unable to speak, Luke simply shook his head. 

“Gentle, kind, and lovely.” 

Luke wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but certainly nothing close to the words you had chosen. “You do not,” he objected. 

“I'm serious, baby,” you placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him in until your foreheads were touching. “I think you’re the most wonderful and caring guy I’ve ever met. I think you always have been, you just don’t always show it.”

He stared at you intently before pulling a loose strand of hair out of your face. You kissed the top of his head, “I must be one lucky girl.” 

“Hey, if there’s one thing I’m sure about, it’s that I’m the lucky one,” he said, before pulling you in for a kiss. 

[runariya]

I am in love with that Jk merman story of yourssss , you are such a talented author !!!! Keep it up with the good work .

Even i want to request a prompt after that story because i believe only you have the capability to bring that prompt to life (only if you want to write ofcourse, no pressure )

I have never read an ABO fic with enemies to lovers troupe in modern era , I mean just imagine them being the high-school academic rival wolves who can't bear standing eachother

but the moment they turn 18 and their wolves will develop some special senses and powers, they both will realise that they both are actually mates . damnnn now image the strong pull their wolves will feel towards eachother making them go crazy ( their wolves will fall in love with eachother the moment they will recognize eachother as mate and start rebelling their human counterparts and start convincing them to love eachother too .)

and how bad they will try to hide it , deny their wolves forbid their animal counterparts from eachother only to fail miserably in the end because yeah that mate bond will win 🥹

You can choose any BTS member you want because I love and enjoy reading all seven of them so go for any member you want .

Borahae 💜 , no pressure if you are not interested in writing this prompt , I will still adore you and your work 💜 😘 so feel free to reject this request if you want .

part of the prompt game pairing: alpha!Jungkook x omega!female reader genre: fantasy!AU, "E"2L, ABO, high school romance warnings: Jungkook's the most pitiful teenager in all of existence, bad handling of emotions/feelings, a lot of cliques, denial, a little bit of physical fighting, mentions of blood, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 2.754

a/n: tysm for all your compliments, I'm so flattered 🫂 I've tweaked your request a tiny bit to fit the character of OC better and left out marking etc. bc they're still so young 🥹 hope that's okay 💕

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

He hates you.

No, he loathes your entire existence.

That Miss Perfect attitude, excelling in everything you do as if it’s the easiest task in the world. You’ve been enemies since high school started—not because either of you declared it so, but because Jungkook simply can’t stand you.

You, on the other hand, are oblivious to this feud, always kind and friendly towards everyone, especially Jungkook. He doesn’t understand how you do it, staying so humble and kind towards him when he takes every opportunity to throw jabs your way, or cause you minor inconveniences, like not holding the door open or letting you trip more times than he can count.

It’s infuriating to watch you be so lovely, especially when you’re not only the smartest but also the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen—something he will never admit. Ever.

“Jungkook?” Your soft, sweet voice startles him. He’s been too busy glaring at the papers scattered before him, his thoughts circling back to you. There's no one else in the lecture hall, and he didn’t even realise you’d entered. You seem to appear out of nowhere, catching him off guard. “I think you dropped this.”

You’re smiling again, that blinding smile of yours, starry eyes sparkling with joy, courteous as ever. He wants to scream. He doesn’t want this treatment from you, not when you’re a little older than him—well, only two months, but still. You’re 18 now, with your wolf, while he’s not, which only deepens his resentment. Once again, you’re ahead, better at something.

The whole school talked about your wolf. Despite your gentle nature, everyone was shocked to learn after your first turn that you’re an omega—one of the very few in the city, the only one known in school. It’s yet another thing Jungkook can’t stand, especially now that everyone, wolf or not, showers you with attention.

“Not mine,” Jungkook lies through his teeth, eyeing the pencil still held out towards him in your small, delicate hand, your nails perfectly manicured.

“Oh…” you murmur, glancing down at the pencil, your brows drawing together in disbelief. Of course, you don’t believe him. “But it’s got your initials, and it’s the one you’re always using.”

Damn you! Of course, you know it’s his favourite. He should’ve seen this coming.

“You think I’d use it after your germs have contaminated it?” Jungkook scoffs.

“That’s not very kind.” You purse your lips, those beautiful lips.

“It’s the truth, ___.”

“Is it okay if I keep it?”

What?! “What?” Jungkook can’t believe his ears. Why would you want to keep it?

“Can I keep your pen? It would be a waste to throw it away, especially when it looks so cool.” You repeat, smiling again.

The pencil is cool, and Jungkook has half a mind to just snatch it back, but he won’t give in. He won’t concede even the smallest defeat.

“I don’t care,” he grumbles. It’s enough to make you burst with joy, your face lighting up as you clutch the pencil to your chest.

“Thanks, Jungkook! You’re so kind!”

“Whatever.”

And ‘whatever’ indeed, because seeing you every day with his pencil, as if it’s the most precious thing in the world, drives him mad. He regrets his decision. He wants it back. It’s his, and what’s his should stay his, but it isn’t—and it makes him livid.

Livid in a way that fuels his pettiness, pushing him to new lengths to make your life difficult. He puts fake spiders in your bag, bumps into you when you’re struggling with your food tray in the canteen. But all of it is in vain, because you’re an omega—everyone’s darling. Every time something inconvenient happens to you, a horde of people rushes to your aid.

This alone is enough to make Jungkook reconsider his actions—or rather, the attention he’s giving you. It’s not like you care. It’s not like you treat him any differently when he’s mean. So what’s the point? At some stage, he’s not even sure why he started all this, why he loathes you so much. If he’s honest, you’ve never actually wronged him. Not once. And now, he’s running out of ways to break you, to show everyone your true colours, because no one can be this perfect, right?

It’s the Friday before his birthday weekend when you approach him again, this time holding a small present. You look up at him as he stands by his locker.

“Hey, Jungkook,” you say softly.

“What do you want?”

“Uhm, I know Sunday’s your 18th birthday and… well, I know you didn’t invite me to your party, which is totally fine! Don’t get me wrong! But I just wanted to give you this because it’s a big birthday, right? So, yeah…”

The tiny gift is wrapped in floral paper with a neatly tied bow, and it looks exactly how he imagined your presents would. It screams 'you', and he’s unsure what to say. He reckons he should just take it and thank you, but the way you’re looking up at him, so small and kind despite knowing you weren’t invited, bothers him like a sock slipping off mid-walk.

Jungkook reluctantly takes the present, ignoring the slight relieved droop of your shoulders and how your warm, soft fingers brushed softly against his.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, his eyes transfixed on the gift.

“Happy birthday, Jungkook. I hope it’ll be everything you wanted and beyond.”

And with that, you turn away, a light spring in your step, your hair moving behind you like a fairy’s wings.

Jungkook doesn’t waste any time after you leave, ripping the gift open in a rush of curiosity, only to freeze, stunned, when a tiny jewellery box is revealed to him. He’s never received any jewellery before, and the fact that it’s a gift from you—a female ‘stranger’, no less—makes his nerve endings prickle with discomfort. The idea of receiving something so personal feels wrong somehow, and yet, despite this strange feeling creeping over him, he still finds himself opening the small red box.

Inside, nestled on an equally red velvet cushion, is a delicate necklace with a pendant that bears his initials. It’s the prettiest necklace he’s ever seen, and the worst part is that he can already picture himself wearing it, the style so perfectly matching his aesthetic that it’s rather unsettling.

He carefully takes the necklace from the box, letting it twist and turn in the sunlight, the metal gleaming ever so mesmerising. But that’s when he notices an engraving on the back of the pendant, and as he peers closer, he fights the urge to rub his eyes.

You’ve had ‘alpha’ engraved onto it. There’s no way anyone could be so bold as to assume another person’s future rank, and yet here you are, making such an assumption about him. Jungkook can’t help but think maybe he was right all along—there’s something strange about you. You’re just a little too perfect, a little too confident in your kindness, a little too bold in your presumptions.

Shaking his head, he lets the necklace fall back into the box, snapping it shut and tossing it carelessly into his locker, fully intending to forget about it sooner or later. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

Saturday night and Sunday come and go in a blur of noise, people, and anticipation. Jungkook has invited practically everyone he knows to his birthday party, hoping that with the arrival of his wolf, his mate might finally be revealed as well. But no one who attends is his mate, and this realisation drags his mood dangerously low. He feels a nagging stab in his chest that he can’t shake, made even heavier by the recurring thought that you, little Miss Perfect, were right all along—Jungkook has become an alpha, just as you predicted. Typical.

What infuriates him even more is that on Monday morning, as you—like always—walk past his locker on your way to the lecture hall, the world seems to slow around him. He watches in disbelief as you suddenly stop, staring at him with wide eyes that shimmer with unshed tears. You look stunned, but more than that, you look happy, as though you’ve just discovered something wonderful. And then, in the midst of his confusion, his inner wolf starts to go wild, barking ‘mate’ over and over again, leaping with excitement inside him.

It should be a moment of joy, a moment where he feels relief and happiness in finally knowing who his mate is. But instead, all Jungkook feels is denial, a desperate refusal to accept the truth, even though, deep down, he knows that you’re everything he ever wanted in a mate.

Still, he turns away from you, ignoring the way your face crumples, the way your bright, hopeful tears turn into ones of sadness, the way you rush past him with your head down, leaving his wolf whimpering in confusion and hurt. Jungkook tries to convince himself that this can’t be real, that it can’t be right, even though every part of him knows it’s exactly what he wanted, what he’s been waiting for.

In the days that follow, he struggles to keep up his usual routine of tormenting you, making snide remarks whenever he gets the chance, but there’s no joy in it anymore. You’re not kind to him the way you used to be, not anymore. You don’t smile at him, don’t even really smile at anyone; instead, you accept his cruelty with a resigned, sad look in your eyes and a forced, brittle smile that never quite reaches your eyes.

Each day, it becomes harder and harder for Jungkook to suppress his wolf, who clearly isn’t on the same page with his cold treatment of you. His wolf growls at him, restless and unhappy, frustrated with the way things are. And Jungkook knows—he understands why—but he feels trapped.

How could he possibly make things right after all he’s done to you? How could he ever redeem himself after letting his bitterness and resentment carry him so far? It doesn’t help that the necklace you gave him is now tucked securely under his shirt, the cool metal pendant resting against his chest, near his heart, multiplying the ache that’s slowly but surely forming there as well. He fiddles with it absentmindedly, the action soothing in a way he can’t explain, though it only makes the guilt grow.

“Jungkook?”

He no longer startles when you appear, his wolf always sensing your presence before you even speak, and your voice has become so quiet, so broken, that it doesn’t have the same effect it once did.

Looking at you now, standing there with your eyes downcast and your voice soft, makes him wish he could take it all back—every harsh word, every petty action. He wishes he could go back and rewrite everything, build something good between you instead of tearing it down. But it’s too late for that, far too late, and he knows it.

When he doesn’t respond, you gather the courage to continue, your voice wavering slightly. “I know it’s random, but I noticed your grades haven’t been as good as they used to be. I know you’re not the kind of person who needs help, but… if there’s anything I can do, just let me know, yeah?”

He wants to snap at you, wants to push you away, but he’s so exhausted—exhausted from pretending he doesn’t care, exhausted from pretending he hates you, and most of all, exhausted from fighting this undeniable bond between you.

Tears prick at his eyes, overwhelming him with guilt, frustration, and something else he can’t quite name. He’s so fed up with himself, so trapped in the mess he’s made that he doesn’t know how to fix it, doesn’t even know where to start.

“Hey… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” you say, your voice tinged with panic now as you shift nervously on the spot, your hands reaching out towards him only to pull back, unsure of what to do. “I’m sorry…”

“Stop!” Jungkook yells, and the sound of his own voice surprises him. You flinch, your entire body recoiling as if he’s physically struck you, your trembling hands clasping tightly in front of you.

“I… I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers, and before Jungkook can say anything else, you turn and run, disappearing down the hall, leaving him standing there with the misery of his guilt pressing down harder than ever.

To think it couldn’t get worse was the stupidest thought Jungkook ever had, because it got worse. Not only did his little outburst suffocate him in guilt, but it also made you avoid him every chance you got. It also didn’t help that most people noticed your changed persona, adding one plus one and recognising Jungkook as the culprit.

He doesn’t fault them, doesn’t really mind the insults coming his way, of being heartless for not wanting a mate like you, when he knows they speak the truth. He doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve someone who he clearly hurts without a true reason.

And the way his inner wolf retreats now from him too, is something he understands as well, because there’s literally nothing he could do to mend what he’s broken.

It’s one afternoon after classes have just finished, and he’s walking out of the school when he notices you cornered against the wall by some other alphas, three in total. Jungkook’s immediately enraged, and it’s then that his wolf rises to full strength, baring his teeth and growling violently.

You’re clearly uncomfortable, clearly scared of what might happen, especially when one of these alphas gets in your face, giving you no way to escape. The last straw for Jungkook is when one runs his filthy finger along your beautiful face.

“Hey!” Jungkook roars, storming towards the alphas who have now turned to laugh in his face. “Back off.”

“What?! She’s fair game.” One mocks, while you’re still pressed against the wall, but your eyes are hopefully locked onto Jungkook.

“I said back off my mate.”

They do, but only to now lunge at Jungkook, thinking that outnumbering him will shoo him away. But it doesn’t—Jungkook won’t let anyone else touch you, his wolf and himself ready to do anything to protect you. And so, Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to take each one of them down.

Driven by adrenaline, he doesn’t notice the sting of the hits he couldn’t block, but it’s nothing compared to the urge to protect you with all he has, all he is.

One after the other falls to the floor, while blood trickles from his split lip, knuckles burning and swollen, his chest still heaving, his wolf still angrily jabbing at the air.

“Jungkook?” His eyes snap up to you when you call for him, and he’s relieved to find no repulsion or fear in them when they lock onto him.

“Are you okay?”

“Thank you,” you nod, and his wolf wags his tail, barking mate, deafening all his other senses.

“Good."

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?”

You hesitate, and it makes him feel powerless all over again, but eventually you whisper, “Because I’m not who you wanted.”

It’s broken, it’s defeated, and it’s everything he never wanted his mate to say, because it’s not the truth. Never was. Never will be.

“But you are.” Jungkook tries to smile, despite knowing it’s not hopeful or kind, but sad in all the ways his decisions led it to be.

“I am?”

Seeing your eyes gradually returning to their lively, sparkly self is more than he ever wished to witness, more than he ever should receive, but everything he ever wanted.

“You are. Always were.”

And with that, he opens his arms, stepping over the still-groaning alphas to get closer to you.

With a push off the wall, you sprint into Jungkook’s arms, tears of relief running down your cheeks as he embraces you like you wished he would from the start. But it doesn’t matter, because no time apart could ruin the feeling of him embracing you and your bond.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook mumbles into your hair, inhaling the magnificent scent of you.

“It’s fine, everything’s fine.”

And as you cling to him, your wolves finally as content as you are, you know that you’d never change a thing, because it’s better to be loved willingly than with no other choice.

[voxofthevoid]

*banging pots and pans together* Goyuu gremlins, come get y'all fucking juice.

I say this as if I'm not inundating you in goyuu every week, but Gojou has been conspicuously absent from my current WIP for...10 chapters and over 70k words. A major character and one half of the endgame ship, and he shows up halfway through the story—JJK has got me making more and more novel (in terms of my writing) narrative choices with each fic.

Gotta say, it feels great to get back into writing Gojou. Last time I tackled him was at the end of September, for the fem!Gojou no-powers oneshot. The necrofic from October beginning has a lot of Gojou, sure, but he's a...well, a corpse. Sinking back into goyuu banter and interactions felt like coming home.

Now, here's Demon/Hunter Horror Wednesday #9, featuring Gojou Sluttoru Satoru in the flesh.

There’s a man on the platform.

It’s the height that startles Yuuji first. He’s freakishly tall. The tallest person Yuuji’s seen—unless he counts Sukuna, which he won’t. Besides, this guy’s all legs, and it’s weirdly fascinating how they move, smooth and graceful under shiny pants reflecting the platform lights. They eat up the platform with long, languid strides, getting closer and closer and—

Yuuji blinks, dragging his eyes from the man’s legs to a face that’s a lot closer than he expects, even though he has to crane his neck to make eye contact—kind of. The man’s wearing sunglasses, those thick black ones that show nothing of what’s underneath, so Yuuji just ends up staring at his own distorted reflection.

His eyes are wide, his mouth a little open. Yuuji closes it, his teeth clicking together.

The height isn’t the only startling thing about the man. His hair is a shock of white, messy strands covering his forehead and even falling over the sunglasses. And Yuuji’s got no leg to stand on when it comes to people with eye-catching coloring, but there’s still something about this man that makes it hard to look away.

“Hi?” he offers warily.

“Hello,” comes the answer, immediate and cheerful. “You a local?”

“Uh, yeah? I guess.”

A tilt of the head. Those snowy strands shift with mesmerizing motions. “That’s not very reassuring.”

“Why…am I reassuring you?”

The man claps, once. “Good point! You’re not a serial killer, are you?”

Yuuji’s so confused. “No?”

“Hmm, you don’t sound very sure about that either.” The man leans closer, which involves a lot of bending. Yuuji blinks at his reflection in the glasses, which blinks right back. “Nah, you’re too cute to be a serial killer.”

“Thanks, I think. Who are you?”

“Gojou Satoru!” The man declares, straightening up and sticking out an arm. “And who are you, my young, uncertain friend?”

Yuuji takes the proffered hand. It’s big, almost swallowing his whole hand when it closes around it. There’s warmth too, seeping boldly into his flesh.

“Itadori Yuuji,” he introduces himself. “I’m very confused.”

“I did get that impression.”

“No, I mean, you’re—” Yuuji shakes his head. “Never mind. Why are you asking weird questions?”

“Hey now,” the man says, his lips pressing into a pout. They’re very shiny. And pink. “Those were very sensible questions. There’s no point asking for directions from a non-local, is there? And it’d be very unwise of me to put myself in the maw of a murderer.”

“Well,” Yuuji says, slightly less confused, “I’m not a murderer. And I do live here. Moved here a few months back. Pretty sure I can give you directions. To where?”

“A recent transplant. I see,” Gojou murmurs, his head still tilted slightly down. Despite the opaque glasses, Yuuji has the distinct sense of being looked at. “Would you happen to know the way to the Fushiguro household, Itadori Yuuji-kun?”

“Fushiguro?” Yuuji repeats. “You know him? Or are you here for Tōji-san?”

“Both,” Gojou says, his smile widening. The glossy gleam of his lips doesn’t hide how sharp the expression is, and for the first time, Yuuji really takes in the rest of his face—the chiseled jaw, the straight nose, the prominent cheekbones. A sharp face, but pretty too. Like Fushiguro’s, except that while Fushiguro’s soft around the edges, this man looks like he’ll cut if touched. “—to me?”

Yuuji blinks back to himself, trying and failing to make sense of what Gojou just said. “Huh?”

That smile grows even bigger, flashing a hint of very white teeth. “I asked if you’re listening to me?”

“Oh. No,” Yuuji admits. “Sorry?”

Gojou hums, tilting his head like a curious cat. “I don’t think you are. But I’ll forgive it if you’re a good boy and take me to the Fushiguros.”

Yuuji swallows, his throat very dry. “I could, but…”

“But?”

“How do I know you’re not a serial killer, Gojou-san?”

Gojou snorts. It’s an ugly sound, rough and nasal. Something inside Yuuji unclenches, like that’s the proof he needed that this guy is human and not some abnormally pretty dream he conjured up. It’d be a kinder dream than usual, but Yuuji can’t trust his imagination anymore.

“I’m too handsome for that, don’t you think?” Gojou asks, his grin grown lopsided.

“Yeah, but—” Yuuji makes a sweeping gesture with his free arm, covering Gojou as well as the rest of the platform. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“So there is a brain under all that pink fluff,” Gojou says, his tone weirdly approving.

“I don’t think you get to talk about anyone’s hair,” Yuuji points out, eyeing Gojou’s snow-white strands again.

But Gojou just tosses his hair like he’s in a shampoo commercial. “It’s all natural.”

“So is mine,” Yuuji says drily. “Not the point.”

“Oh? What is your point then?”

“Serial killing. I think.” Yuuji shakes his head. “Whatever. Yeah, I’ll take you to the Fushiguros’ place. Do anything weird and I’ll punch you.”

“Careful,” Gojou purrs. “I might be into that.”

Yuuji just looks at him for a moment, before taking in the rest of the platform with half a mind to foist this guy off on someone else. There’s no one, obviously. It’s not like this place is bustling even during what was the rush hour back at Sendai. Nanami and Yuuji were alone the entire time they waited, and he’s pretty sure no one but Gojou got off from the train.

Plus, he probably shouldn’t inflict this guy on anyone else. Yuuji doesn’t think he’s a bad person or anything, but he’s kinda weird. And Yuuji’s pretty immune to stranger danger.

Except when he walks into cursed churches.

“Come on then,” Yuuji says. “It’s getting late, and Tōji-san usually turns in early.”

Gojou’s lips and cheeks do something very weird. “Fushiguro Tōji has a bedtime.”

“Uh, not exactly—”

Yuuji’s cut off by demented laughter—full-on cackling, filling up the open air of the empty platform. All he can do is watch, nonplussed, until Gojou calms down, and even that’s startlingly abrupt, the noise stopping so suddenly that the resulting silence seems to boom.

“Sorry, sorry,” Gojou says, not sounding all that sincere. “That was just too funny. Guess the single dad life suits him.”

Yuuji thinks of what Fushiguro sounds like every time he has to talk about his dad. “I…wouldn’t say that. Anyway, you coming?”

“Sure,” Gojou says easily. “You going to let me go first, or are we holding hands the whole way?”

“What’re you—”

Yuuji realizes the answer before he even finishes the question, blinking down at his own hand—still clasped firmly around Gojou’s bigger one. He lets go quickly, snatching it back. For a moment, he doesn’t know what to do with it. Wiping it on his pants would be rude. And it’s not like Gojou’s palm was sweaty or anything. It was just warm, and Yuuji’s whole hand sparks like it’s stolen that heat for itself. He settles for folding his arms across his chest. 

Gojou looks entirely too amused. “Pity.”

“Don’t tease me,” Yuuji grumbles, hoping the heat on his face doesn’t actually show on the skin; he knows his odds though, and they’re not good. He’s about to march off, leaving Gojou to choose whether to follow, when something occurs to him. “Wait, are you…”

“Yes?” Gojou prods after a moment, that curling grin still in place.

Yuuji squints up at him, specifically the sunglasses. He doesn’t think Gojou’s blind. People wear sunglasses all the time, though he’s rarely seen ones so dark. And Gojou navigated the platform pretty easily earlier, no cane or anything. Still, the thought won’t leave his head, and Yuuji’s mind refuses to accept the vague sense of being watched as enough proof, so he asks, “Are you blind?”

“How blunt,” is Gojou’s response. “I like that in people.”

“That’s not—”

—an answer, Yuuji doesn’t say because Gojou proceeds to give him an answer, raising one long-fingered hand to pluck his sunglasses off.

A maelstrom of blue slams into Yuuji.

He’s seen blue eyes more than a few times. People he knew, people he passed in the street. Bright ones, dark ones. Then there’s Fushiguro, whose eyes act like some deep-sea trench, shifting from dark green to depthless blue based on the lighting and his mood.

But he’s never seen eyes like these.

It’s not just one shade of blue, but every blue, all at once. Thin threads of shuddering color, spreading out from pupils that swallow all light. It’s breathtakingly bright, like the colors are reaching out of the eyes to claw at the air. Or maybe they’re just swirling inside, chasing each other inside the confines of those irises.

A part of Yuuji knows that he’s imagining it, that Gojou’s eyes aren’t actually nuclear ghosts. But that logic doesn’t quite penetrate the blue haze in his head.

Gojou blinks, cutting off that stream of color, and Yuuji sucks in a breath like a drowning man.

[cybercl0ne]

not sure if u do requests but I found ur blog recently and have been OBSESSED. I was thinking if you could do an arrange marriage fic for aizawa. I would absolutely DIE if u did. It can be any AU i wont mind since whatever u write will be amazing! I know it 💗💗💗

Will do! I love you so much. I wrote this trying to best fit my other pieces of work, so I hope you like it and I'm sorry I took so long to reply but I'm here now *plays graceful music*

Summary: Your father sells you to a man that knows you from UA.

F/M (she/her)

A/N at the bottom!!!!

TW: Abuse, mentions of Abuse, Fathers a massive dick (again), massive Angst, 18+, slow burn, porn with plot, murder, Aizawa is Yandere

You tried to keep your head down. You wanted to speak. You felt the words you wanted to say bubbling up in your throat, desperately trying to simmer.

"Don't disappoint me Y/n." You fathers booming voice bowelled. His intense aura making you feel smaller than you already were compared to him.

"Yes father." You spoke, still trying to maintain a put together face. You were slightly confused as to what was going on but would never voice it as you learned where talking out of line got you. Your mind hissed at the memories of the endless nights of torture your father would put you through just so you would never talk 'out of place' again.

Unimpressed your father scoffed, watching as the car rolled to a sudden stop. He let himself out, leaving you to bear the responsibility of fear. His assistant opened the door, his heart sharing the same hole as yours. "Good luck miss." He whispered, cheering you on knowing that this tiny act of kindness could get him killed. You gave him a warm smile innocent but filled with bloodshed, wanting to be in his shoes, even as a assistant for a man like your father. At least he could escape. At least he wasn't wasted down by the overbearing responsibilities you bared.

His shoes were different from the feet you walked with. You quickly and quietly made way to catch up with your father who still ignored your existence for as long as possible. He stepped through the sleek sophisticated door, you behind his large frame.

Life has never been fair to you or your family. When you were born your mother fell ill causing her to be hidden from the outside world. Sometimes when you’d have nightmares you’d curl into the warmth of her bony chest, watching as her warm arms wrapped around you. She’d reassure you countless times, kissing your temple. But now those days were gone. You no longer could run into your mom's touch, watch her smile glow up the room full of iv drips and medicine.

"This is Y/n. Shes the one that you will be betrothed." Your fathers familiar booming voice declared. You stood shell shocked, not wanting to believe what your eyes had soaked in. "N-no...H-he didn't say that." You blinked a few times to make sure you weren't stuck in some messed up nightmare but found you were very awake.

Your father nudged you as he placed his hands on your shoulders and activated his quirk, burning into the cloth of your clothes. You wasted no time, bowing before the strange man. "She might be a little untamed but I'm sure you'll figure it out." He said, throwing you at the man that stood before you.

Your face was nothing but mortified as you saw your father walking out of the room, still sharing the same uninterested look at you as when you were born. "F-father?" You scampered towards him, scraping yourself and ignoring the man that you fell into. He shared nothing but a simple scoff.

You blanked as your world flipped on its side. You saw your father looming over you as if he had put something rotten in his mouth. The glint that he shared between you sent your body into hives and shivers.

"I am not your father. Don't call me that." "If it were up to me, I would've never had you." "I would've sold you off to some man any day, but it appeared he was the only buyer."

"So, play nice now."

As soon as he spoke your body reacted with the only reaction it could. You hauled forward, your body rejecting everything. As you threw up all over the poor man's floor you noticed the sleek black shoes your father always wore disappear behind the black door.

You desperately reached for his long-gone presence. tears and snot uncontrollably free falling in front of you. "P-please father!"

"Don't leave me! Don't leave me behind! I-I'll be good!" Your heart wrenching words dissipated into thin air as it would never reach your targeted audience. The only man in the room however rushed to your side, immediately comforting you.

You watched as the world went black.

You woke up with a heavy migraine, your brain trying to forget the part where your father basically admits to hating you at birth. You hold your stomach as you try to muster an emotion other than grief and freedom mixed but you find yourself unable.

You look around realizing that your environment was completely different from what you knew. The spacious room overwhelmed you and the man that laid across from you spoke danger. You quickly huddled up into your legs as the strange man stirred in his sleep, transitioning to a woke state. "W-where am I?" You spoke, your voice faint and hoarse. You cringe at how little words fall from your mouth. "My house." The man utters.

You decide to take a good look at him, taking in his gruffy patch under his chin, his eyebags and his ragged black hair.

"Shota? -"

Both of your faces light up upon remembering a distant name from the past.

"Hi y/n." He breathes a breath of relief. You grabbed him immediately, embracing him tightly as he stood stunned, unsure of weather to hug you back and risk never letting you go.

"I thought I'd never see you again." Aizawa Whispered softly afraid you might float away from how light you felt in his arms. You let go, examining his face once more, fighting the urge to pepper it with soft kisses.

"Oh Aizawa..." "I-I'm so sorry..." You stuttered. You felt immense guilt as he talked his worry of you onto you.

"I had to leave UA. I wanted to be like you, a teacher but my father..." You choked, not sure if you can even call him a proper father. All he ever knew was pain.

"Don't worry. You'll be ok now." He reassured, lightly stroking your head. You whimpered into his chest, carving small circles.

For the first time in a long time you could feel yourself breathe. It was like you no longer had to cover your mouth, or act like you were stepping on pins and needles. You were free.

——*a few months later*——

You thought you’d hate the idea of marriage. Being tied down to a lover, or whoever your father would put you with in the end. But Aizawa was determined to erase any mark that monster had placed on you, and that started with the roots itself.

Since Aizawa was a pro hero he was fully aware he could never kill the villains he pursued. But the more Aizawa held you at night and watched you wriggle and mewl in your sleep made the reasonable thoughts broil. He knew he just had to do something. He stepped downstairs at after finalizing his plan, seeing you downstairs preparing him another beautiful breakfast that he felt a little bad that he wasn’t gonna eat. But there would be many great meals that he’d enjoy with you after he got rid of the lingering problem.

You looked so peaceful with your hair tied up and idling in one of his t shirts, never failing to look like a supernova even in the groggy mornings. He couldn’t resist and had to feel you from behind if even to just get the smell of you in his mind. “Hey baby” Aizawa’s groggy and rasped voice croaked. You startled, jumped as he wrapped his arms around your waist, rocking you side to side to let you know it was him.

“Hey honey. You ready to eat?” You asked, spatula in your hand but your attention all on him. He loved the way you’d fill his stomach with butterflies like he was a teenager again when you looked up at him with trust.

“No sorry sweets, I’ll pass but I’ll be back to eat later.” He didn’t fail to miss how you deflated a bit but perked back up after he hugged you tighter you perked back up.

“Well alright. Just be back in time for lunch or dinner.” You nagged like a wife. You caught yourself on the words, visibly flashing a hand to your mouth. He laughed, thinking about how little you changed through the years, even through high school you were shy and reserved but around him you loosened up unintentionally. It made him feel like he had done right. He’d been told by many peers and other of his students that he was scary, but deep down Aizawa cared, just was very used to acting like he doesn’t.

He planted a wet kiss on your face, exiting the warm feel of your embrace, looking back at you one last time for a fond memory until he gets back from doing a little “errand”.

He watched from afar at his victim. He watched as he left in his black car that had been in his rear view. Aizawa watched as the tall buff man exited the car and into his esteemed home with no car in the world. He looked as if he had no concern. It made Aizawa want to erase him even more. Aizawa followed close behind posing as a pro hero just put on patrol. He banged on the tall door that assisted the tall lowly man.

The door shot open as his tall stature sank to the front door. “What?” His booming voice rang. Aizawa could tell why this voice hurt and scared you so much but Aizawa was determined to make sure you never wind ear of a melody as broken as his. The man was visibly puzzled when he saw no one was standing at his doorstep. Shrugging it off and grumbling back inside his domain. Aizawa, already one step ahead, was inside his house without anyone or anything hearing/noticing. He promised the job would be clean and quick, all so he could have as much time with you as he wanted for the rest of both of your lives. He watched as the man sat in his office with a state of the art tablet, focused on whatever shady business he was indulging in. Aziawa made no effort to hide any longer revealing himself to the perpetrator that taunted the love of his life for so long under the radar. “What are you doing in here? Who let you in?!”

“Y’know you should do your research a little better.” Aizawa spoke, ignoring his past comment. Aizawa quickly and hastily poked the knife he placed at his knee to the grown man’s neck. And without second thought he slashed. He made sure the cut were clean and watched as blood splattered from his neck. He made little to no noise. Only choking on his gurgles of blood.

He quickly dipped out of the crime scene leaving nothing behind. He was aware that your father had ties and Allies, but with those allies were his enemies. Enemies that hated him with a diehard passion. Some of his Allies were backstabbers anyway, but your father was blinded by his power that he failed to even realize that you were what was keeping his business up. With you being there and as his weapon made him powerful but alone his quick could be quickly outmatched.

Aizawa shrugged, concluding that he’d fall down the ladder sooner or later but just decided to speed up the process. By now it was late and he knew that he probably had a worried wife at home waiting patiently for his arrival home. His heart fluttered, leaving behind the murderous acts where they belonged.

As soon as he stepped through the door he was happily greeted by you jumping at him wrapping your arms around him. “Where have you been?” You asked worried. You scanned his body for any marks of harm but when you found nothing you warmly hugged him again. “Sorry I’m so late honey.” He whispered into your head. He picked you up holding his lips to your face. You scrambled under him to put you down.

“Aizawa! Put me down you maniac!” You laughed, clutching onto him as he walked to your bedroom. “But I missed you so so much darling.” He teased, placing you gently on the bed to pepper your face with kisses. He towered over you showering you with deep love.

You both paused to look at each other, both lost in the way the other looked. He gently lowered into you, his eyes intoxicated with a potent that had you falling deep into his lips. You both share a loving kiss Aizawas hands not knowing if they should roam down your body. You grab his hand after breaking the kiss and bring it up to your left breast.

“It’s ok Aizawa.”

“I trust you.” You clearly spoke into his ear. You watched as his face shared a bright dusk of blush as he slowly allowed his hands to travel down every curve and slope of your body. You shivered under his touch, mewling and mumbling under him.

He found his way to back to your breast, playing and toying with the hard nipple that formed from his touch.

“So fucking beautiful.” He muttered. You tended up as the words registered to your ears. You noticed the bulge that grew in his pants as he kissed down your stomach, his eyes pleading for permission. You nodded as he pulled and teased at your already wet panties that now fled attention to the floor.

“You’re so fucking wet for me princess.” You hid your eyes as he played with your slick that was soaking his fingers as they played with your entrance.

“No, no, no sweetie, don’t look away. Be good and look at your man playing with your sweet cunt.”

You reluctantly opened your eyes to see his two fingers coying with your needy cunt. You watched as his fingers lodged their way inside of you. You quivered at the new feeling of something wriggling inside of you. “So damn tight for me baby.” He whispered as he fixated all his attention to you pussy. You wiggled and moaned as he stretched and prodded at your needy hole.

“p-please”

“what princess?” He stopped, looking at you. You lifted your leg to brush against his raging bulge. You felt it twitch against your touch and watched as Aizawa seethed with pleasure.

“Tell me what you want” He demanded.

“Y-you.”

Aizawa clicked his teeth, freeing his cock from his pants. You saw how it laid out on your stomach. You imagined how easy you’d tear from how big he was. You were completely new to this, and a little intimidated by the girth and length of his twitching cock.

He pumped his member testing and readying it at your entrance. “Don’t worry baby, it’ll fit.” He soothed playfully. You flushed at how he petted your stomach as he stabled himself inside you.

You both seared with how tight everything felt. You felt the world spin as pain and pleasure mixed beautifully. You greedy pussy pushed for more of Aizawa’s cock as he paused to let you breathe.

“You’re doing so well for me princess” he kissed your teary face. “Is it all the way in yet?” You whimpered. He lightly chuckled, and shook his head softly.

“we’re not even half way darling.” He spoke. You felt yourself stretching and clamping around him as he thrusted his way inside you. You felt how his cock crawled into your cervix and deep inside your womb. You felt the way your pussy throbbed for harder movements.

“P-please keep going.” You voiced.

At that moment Aizawa lost control and started pounding at your womb. You felt your ass shake as skin collided with one another. You watched the small bulge in your stomach disappear and reappear every time he rammed in and out. Soon you start to feel the sensation of your stomach coiling around him. “Aizawa i-I’m gonna-“

“don’t worry I’m going to cum to baby.” He grunted. You watched as your cunt slicked more and more as his thrust became deeper and stronger. You grasp onto his back, leaving your own special mark on him as you screamed and moaned his name.

“That’s right baby, my name is the only name you need to know.” He panted. You felt the coil in your stomach snap as you started spasming around him, coating his cock with your cum. Not too long after you Aizawa chases his own high, nearing his climax.

“g-gonna fill you up. Gonna breed you with my children baby.” He said as he thrusted.

Your mind started going blank as he kept pounding your soaked and overly sensitive pussy.

“Y-yes please fill me up w-with your lovely cum.” You panted as you both stared eachother in the eyes.

You felt his cock explode and coat your womb with his load. You felt how his cum traveled its way inside you, some of it overflowing out of your twitching womb.

The room was filled with moans and pants, the room smelling of fucked out sex and the feeling of hot bodies touching each other.

Aizawa laid against you for a moment before pulling out, gaining a whimper from you and how the empty pop of his cock leaving your pussy made you shiver. He placed you in his chest, you still feeling weak and your legs still shaking. “I love you y/n.” He said, breaking the silence. He planted a kiss on your head, when he heard no sounds or reply he glanced and saw how you were peacefully sleeping on his chest, bundled up and face beautifully resting.

The next morning you woke up and next to you, Aizawa resting peacefully, arms around your waist. You kissed his nose and watched it scrunch up as he moved in his sleep. You quietly giggled while trying to escape his grasp. You went to the bathroom to clean the sticky sensation from yesterdays ‘nightly activities’.

As you stepped out of the bathroom, clean and new you traveled back to the bedroom to throw your clothes away when Aizawa’s rustling made his presence.

“Where are you going honey?” He asked groggy with his eyes still closed.

“sorry to wake you baby.” You kissed his forehead, waking up from the sudden movement of his love trying to get out of his embrace too early.

“Come back to bed.” He whined. You indulged him, laying back into his needy embrace.

He rocked you and wrestled you around and soon you both were play fighting in the bed.

“Aizawa stop that!” You playfully cried out as he tickled you. “Stop? Stop what? Oh this?” He tickled again over you. You kissed his lips and you both fell into a deep make out session. When you both break the kiss Aizawa just takes a second to watch you. Look at the love of his life. “Y/n please marry me.” He spouts. Your eyes glow as he hugs you waiting for your reply.

“Really?” You stuttered.

“Of course, you’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. I’ve actually wanted to marry you since high school.” He admitted.

“Really?” You flushed, soon you two were having a conversation on how you both like each other in UA but never acted on the feeling. It was like you both were in high school again. Your heart felt fulfilled as you watched him ramble about how he was so into you and you never knew.

You cuddled up into him listening to him call you his wife.

A/N: hey y’all! Thanks to these two people who sent me a message! When I saw them I literally felt so fulfilled that I started on this last night. Sorry it took so long but it’s not done I still gotta do part 6 of Falling for a dead rose so see you then.🫡

[madametamma]

I have this idea: pregnant Lois

Basically when maws Lois is pregnant the whole daily planet is made aware and Clark is both excited and freaking out internally. When it's time for the baby to be born the whole planet is like "battle stations" people just running out of the way or jumping over desks or (to take it even further) Perry announcing Lois is going into labor to the whole planet. Clark is freaking out and it takes a cartoon slap from almost everyone in the planet to snap him out of it (and I'm talking almost everyone Jimmy, Kara, Steve, cat, Lonnie hell even Parry). When that baby is born both Clark and Lois and then show the baby to the planet which everyone finds over.

I've had this idea for how I would write a Lois gives birth story for a while. It's a fan fic I'd like to get around to for a while (But also if anyone else wants to use it for their own work go right ahead.)

Lois goes into Labor several weeks early. It's really bad. Clark and Lois have been worried this whole time over whether or not a human and Kryptonian could make a healthy baby together and it looks like the answer is going to be no. The doctor tells them that their child will likely only live for a few more hours after it's birth. They are devastated.

THEN the sun begins to rise. (They haven't slept all night) and they get an idea. At this point they know that the sun makes Clark near invulnerable and heal quickly. With nothing to loose Clark takes the baby in his arms and flies them up in the sky where they can absorb the most sunlight.

He waits for what seems like eternity as he begs his child to live when suddenly, the baby's struggled breathing turns to healthy wails. and it comes life. Clark takes the baby back to Lois and the doctors are shocked as they declare that this is the healthiest premature baby they've ever seen.

[pascaloverx]

Sweet Love

Summary: You're an up-and-coming writer, congratulations. To protect your beloved job, you're willing to do anything. Even strike a deal with the devil, better known as your sister's neighbor. You and Dean Winchester don't really see eye to eye, but in a moment of desperation, you agree to collaborate with him for a greater good.

Author's Notes: Many characters do not belong to me but to the Supernatural Universe (2005-2020). I hope you enjoy the fanfic's story. The fanfic will contain strong language and adult content. Dear readers, I'm here to let you know that if you enjoy this fic, please engage with it. Comments and likes are welcome. I appreciate everyone who follows this fanfic. Anyway, enjoy this chapter.

chapter seven chapter nine

CHAPTER EIGHT

Anger is the only emotion you can feel. Anger at your sister for not telling you earlier that she had been with Dean. Anger at Dean for having been with your sister before being with you, even though he didn't know he would be with you. But more than anything, you're angry at yourself. For missing Dean terribly. And for being upset about something that happened a long time ago.

"Are you going to tell me why you're sulking? Is it because I'm already leaving and you're going to miss me?" your sister asks as she finishes packing her bags. She's leaving again. She stayed a few days to keep you company, and you tried your best not to show that you were upset, but every time you remembered that your boyfriend had been with your sister, it made you feel terrible.

"I'm in love with Dean. I didn't tell you before because I didn't want to ruin your time here. But since I'm terrible at pretending I'm not upset, I'll be honest. I'm in love with the man you had a fling with. The man you don't believe can truly love someone," you say, watching your sister's shocked expression. You can hardly believe what you just said yourself.

"I don't know what you expect me to say about this. I always thought you wouldn't be foolish enough to fall for Dean Winchester's charm," your sister says in the rudest tone possible. She seems angry. You laugh out loud at her reaction.

"I don't expect anything, after all, this is my life. I appreciate your care, and the fact that you welcomed me into your home for so long was incredible. I love you, but I can't let your bad experience with Dean dictate how I'm going to feel. I'm in love with him, and I don't know if he'll ever love me. If he'll want me for a long time, or if he'll give up on me. But I want to find out through my own experience," you say, looking at your sister, trying not to sound rude but asserting that your life is your own.

"You're making a mistake. But I'm your sister. That won't change, but I think you're going to get your heart broken by a man who doesn't deserve you," she says, still sounding angry, picking up her bag and heading towards the door.

"I'll move out as soon as possible so you won't have to watch me making mistakes," you say as she stands by the door, feeling a certain relief at finally being able to say it.

"I'll miss you here. But I hope that being away from Dean helps you see this is a disaster. Goodbye, sister," she says just before leaving. You stand there for a few minutes, unable to react, until you finally process that you've just declared your love for Dean. But for some reason, you don't go to Dean and tell him about it. You actually start packing your things.

A few hours pass until you hear someone knocking on the door. Your sister's apartment is surrounded by some moving boxes. You open the door and aren't surprised to see Dean with a mischievous smile.

"What do you want here?" You ask, watching his little smile disappear.

"I wanted to know if you're still my girlfriend. Because I'm still your boyfriend." Dean asks looking into your eyes. Dean's hand caressed your face as if he wanted you to see inside his eyes the sadness he is feeling.

"I was your girlfriend when you hid from me that you had already had a relationship with my sister. But I'm still your girlfriend." You talk a little too thick. You're resentful but you still love this idiot.

"I'm sorry I left that out. I thought you wouldn't want to get involved with me if you knew." Dean speaks while still close to you, almost as if he wants to kiss you.

"I need some time to think about what happened. My sister just told me that I'm making a mistake by letting myself be in love with you. I don't think she's right but I need to trust that you'll treat me better than you treated her and Castiel." You respond, bringing your face closer to his.

"Don't you miss me? Don't you miss what we have?" Dean asks with a poor face that almost breaks your heart. Before you answer, your lips and his meet. You give each other an almost desperate kiss, full of desire. You feel like you're letting him take care of you again. The kiss intensifies, as you feel your body go back, being guided by Dean. He holds your ass up, placing you sitting on the kitchen table. You can't even think before Dean continues devouring your lips. You start to take Dean's shirt off as he runs his hand over your breasts over your shirt. You moan as you kiss him, as you try to undo his belt so he can take off his pants. But while you almost have sex on your sister's kitchen table, she comes into your head. You start to question yourself if he's ever kissed your sister, how he's kissing you, if he thinks about her while he's with you. Images of them together come into your head and you can't stop wanting to kiss Dean anymore. Then you pull him away mid-kiss.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Dean asks worriedly, as you try to compose yourself by climbing down from the table.

“I can't. I can't kiss you like that, or even have sex with you while I don't know anything about how you felt about my sister. This relationship already has a ghost from its past called Castiel. My sister can't be a hindrance. Until I can get over this, you can consider yourself single. I don't want to tie you to me." You say feeling sad for saying that to him. You don't want to let him go but you can't date someone who makes you feel insufficient.

“I don't want to be fucking single. I want you. I want to date you. I don't want your sister or Castiel. I had a relationship with them but it didn't work out. Neither relationship. You're tearing me apart." He says sounding very upset. You approach him and kiss him. Like a goodbye kiss. At least for now.

"I like you, but I don't think it's fair for us to be together while I don't know if you're open to love. Maybe it's too much mistrust on my part, which makes this time in our relationship even more necessary." You wish you didn't distrust Dean, you wish you didn't imagine he likes someone else more than you. You wish you could tell him that you already love him. But now is not the time.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again, I'm not going to give up on you. But if taking a break from the relationship is what you want. That's what we're going to do." Dean speaks and then leaves your sister's apartment carrying his shirt in his hands. He storms out and you are devastated. You wish you could run into his arms and tell him everything is going to be okay. But even you don't know that.

[kisha-myers]

Heeeeeyyyyy - so funny thing, my life has taken a weird turn as of late 😅 Nothijg bad, it has just made me exceptionally busy - but I haven't forgotten about this fic!! It felt a wee bit rushed, but I hope that you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it - there is more to come!! Im planning on getting another chapter out later this week (probably Friday if I'm feeling extra eager lol).

Fem!reader - Ghost x König x reader fanfiction titled 'My Anxious Mouse'

Disclaimer: I do NOT own call of duty nor its characters/operators - I only own the plot.

Chapter Nine: Rage

"Her skin smells of vintage books and pale moonlight, exotic things, forbidden loves and rainy nights." - Melody Lee

A week, that was how long it had been since the fire, and whilst you loved Johnny like family his presence was beginning to annoy you. He teased you incessantly, especially when you had no choice but to be around Ghost and König both of which you had learned they were in a serious relationship. Disappointment radiated off of you in waves, you had hoped you had a chance with either of them - but now knowing they were together you made your contact with them very scarce. You weren't a homewrecker like your mother - you refused to show them any interest - you didn't want to be the cause of their relationship being ruined, even more so considering they both worked together as well.

You let out a frustrated sigh, leaning your back against the side of the barracks, letting yourself focus on the roughness of it as you slid down to sit on the chilled ground. The base itself was bustling, word having got around that a general and an entire team of mercenaries were on their way. You'd opted to stay as far away from anyone as possible, counting down the minutes until Johnny got back so you could find a phone. You wanted to call the Fire Marshal yourself, hoping your apartment complex was cleared so you could return home. You had called your employer, the dean of the hospital you worked in, letting them know what happened. They only gave you two weeks off, stating they'd need you back as soon as possible.

You had thankfully been given a few changes of clothes, Captain Price personally going out with Johnny and buying them for you - it touched you, that a man so stern like Price would be so gentle with you like that. You would even go as far as saying he was bashful, handing you the three bags of clothes from target, rubbing the back of his neck whilst he focused on anything but your face. You'd taken them, offering him a smile smile a rather shy thank you, giving his arm an awkward pat and heading off to change. In total there were four outfits, two plain t-shirts, one blue and the other purple, one button up that was a deep burgundy with a black tank top to go underneath, and the last shirt was a long sleeved v-neck that was a shocking shade of pink. It was so bright that you had to squint at it, crinkling your nose at the offending color. You typically wore darker colors - they were better for blending in. You were even shocked to find that he had bought you a pair of black boots and socks.

The rest of the clothing items were two pairs of skinny jeans, one black and one a dark blue, two pairs of black fleece lined leggings and of course - you'd blame Johnny for this - two sets of what you could only declare as lingerie. Two lace ensembles were at the bottom of the bag, one red and one black, making your face light up like a Macy's parade float. It made sense now as to why Price was acting the way he was - Johnny probably had told him how much you 'adored' to wear such things under your clothes. Oh the excuses you could hear him spewing - you made a mental note to smack the utter shit out of him once you found him.

And you had. You opted to wear the black set under your clothes, having no other options available to you, and quickly dressed in the black skinny jeans with the burgundy button up and black tank top. Like clockwork, the moment you were done dressing Johnny entered your shared room. You wasted no time in grabbing one of your boots and yeeting it at him, smiling triumphantly when it made contact with his still sore face. He'd let out a mess of profanity, cursing you six ways to Sunday as he tried to reason why you had done what you did. You simply held up the red lace set with narrowed eyes, flicking the offending pieces back into the bag and shoving them into a spare backpack he had.

Now here you sat, watching everyone on base scramble to get things done in preparation for meeting the General and Mercenaries on their way. You never liked the feeling of the base, the tension that oozed out of every crevice was so thick you could cut it with a knife and choke on it. You were mentally kicking yourself for not snatching your cell phone up when you had the chance, it would have been useful - you had various reading apps and games on the device that could have helped you spend your time. Sure, Price had lent you a few books - you were grateful that he had been sweet enough to do so, but you weren't exactly one to enjoy reading about the history of gorilla warfare. It was graphic, exceptionally detailed in every horrendous way that you really didn't enjoy. You'd already had your childhood ripped from you by your overprotective father - you knew Price didn't know that, but all the same you'd make sure to return them when you had the chance.

You lifted your gaze towards the sky, watching as they darkened slightly with onyx colored clouds. It had been sunny earlier this morning, something you were thankful for as you strolled around base, soaking up as much of those springtime rays as you could. Now you were certain it would rain, either later this evening or in the wee hours of the morning. You huffed out a breath of frustration, you wanted to be home - back where you felt safe and secure - somewhere where you weren't walking on eggshells, somewhere where you actually belonged. You weren't made for this life, you weren't a soldier - yes you could hold your own if need be, you'd been trained to do so, but you weren't like Johnny or your brother Dante.

You were fragile of mind - not that that was a bad thing, no quite the opposite really. You were fragile the same way a rose was. Velveteen petals that would wilt, thorns that could pierce flesh and draw blood - you were spirited, feisty, but also fragile. Sometimes you likened yourself to the rose trapped under a glass dome from Beauty and the Beast, a flower filled with unimaginable importance and symbolism - your father watching each petal fall as he awaited for something, anything to change and help free him from his own demons. It was... difficult for you, difficult to watch each piece of him wither away like the leaves from the trees in the fall. It was even harder for you to see your own reflection deteriorating into a hollowed out shell.

You bore the weight of everything after Dante died - caring for your sisters, making memories with them whilst trying to keep your parents marriage together. You blamed yourself really, you felt that it was your fault that everything had gone to shit, like Dantes death was just the precipice of it all, the beginnings of the end really. Your therapist would tell you it wasn't your responsibility, that you were only a child that needed guidance from adults who were too focused on their own desires to see you breaking to pieces.

"You've been avoiding us." That deeply sensual burned whiskey tone filled your ears, the British lilt sending a rather unwelcome shiver of delight down your spine. Annoyance spread through you on a cellular level, your e/c orbs narrowing slightly as they slowly trailed up to meet Ghosts intimidating hazels.

"Why does that matter if I have or haven't?" You retorted, letting your annoyance lace your every word as you let your arms rest against your raised knees, your fingers interlacing as you quicker an eyebrow. You gulped as his eyes narrowed, his knees bending slowly as he lowered into a squat, his gloved hands hanging idly between his legs as he rested his forearms against his thick thighs.

"Because König thinks he's done something wrong - won't stop overthinking it, so you, lovely little dove, are going to come with me and tell us why you're avoiding us so he can get over it. I've got Price breathing down my neck about getting him to focus on our next deployment - only way he will focus is if you just suck it up and be a big girl and tell us what's wrong." He replied, his voice deepening ever so slightly. You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from making a snarky remark, your fingers tightening significantly to the point your knuckles turned white. You were getting sick of everyone making decisions for you, you weren't inept, you were a grown woman for fucks sake. You snorted at the notion of being incapable of making adult decisions, you wanted to lash out but knew it wasn't his fault - he was a soldier, they were more blunt and didn't have the patience to deal with civilians like yourself.

"Yeah sure, I'll clear the air with him as soon as I'm available to do so. Heard anything about our complex yet? It'd be nice to be able to go home." You asked him, curiosity getting the better of you when you noticed a commotion just behind him off towards the main section of the base. Muffled shouts could barely be heard over the rumble of engines and tires against the asphalt, your eyes narrowing slightly as you placed your hands onto the ground on either side of you, leaning against your right one to fully see around the Boulder of a man before you.

It was a strange sight to see a convoy of military vehicles mixed in with black escalades, civilian vehicles weren't commonly used by the military for operations - at least that is what both Dante and Johnny had told you many years prior. Thick dark tinted windows made peering into them as they drove by damn near impossible, only the slight silhouettes visible. You tilted your head to the side slightly, brows furrowed as a standard military jeep stopped just five feet from you and Ghost. Why it did you wouldn't know as Ghost had already grabbed onto your left forearm, yanking you up and onto your feet before ushering you back inside the barracks.

Any protest and or insults you were ready to spew at him for man-handling you died on your tongue the moment you saw Johnny's frazzled state. His typically perfectly styled Mohawk was shaggy, the gel he used to keep it up flaking away as if he had ran his hands through it periodically. His usually foolhardy and carefree smile was replaced with firmly pressed lips, his jaw clenched so tightly you could physically see the muscle straining. You frowned when you heard the huff of relief that fled from his nose as the two of you neared him, your mind beginning to conjure up every worse possible scenario as to why he'd be so disheveled.

"What the fuck is going on?" You demanded, yanking your arm from Ghost's hands before your own hands rested upon your hips, your muscles tensing in apprehension as you awaited an answer from the two. Johnny and Ghost shared a look, silently communicating between themselves as if you weren't standing right there next to them. You snapped your fingers to gather their attention, your frown turning into a scowl as you threw your hands up in exasperation, "Yeah so, when I ask a question, I fully expect an answer whether it's one I like or not. So what the actual fuck is going on that has the two of you so wired up?" You demanded, your hands returning to your hips.

Your anxiety began to increase, its scrofulous presence slithering its way through your veins into your heart, forcing the organ to palpitate so quickly it made your head spin. Your breathing began to increase as well, your chest rising and falling haphazardly as your hands started to sweat and tremble. Dread welled within your stomach, churning its contents and creating a thick coating of acidic bile in the back of your throat. Saliva pooled inside your mouth as your nausea grew - the longer they stayed quiet, the more likely you noted, that you would throw up. Whether or not it ended up on them you didn't care.

Ghost was the one to answer you after what felt like an eternity, his voice devoid of any emotion other than vexation, "Generals lap dogs taken a liking to you. Been trying to hunt you down all day. Price's kept him busy for the last hour or so, but since he's gotta play nice with the General, the lap dog is free to roam about. He ain't good news love, so we gotta get you out of here before he can get to ya." You simply stared at the behemoth of a man under his protective skull mask, his hazel eyes gazing at you with such conviction it made your head swim. What was so special about you that they'd want you so badly? You weren't the prettiest female on base, in fact there had been a plethora of women you'd seen that out shown you by a landslide.

You rubbed your eyes with the heel of your hands, crinkling your nose as you felt the stinging sensation that eluded to the un-shed tears brimming within your eyes. You just wanted one day to go by where nothing strenuous happened - just one day of normalcy. Your hands returned to your hips, eyes turned down to stare at the permanently stained floor - you could hear your Dad's voice again, spewing to you the bullshit he had always done.

'You're small, feeble, shy - you're the perfect target. You look pathetic and easy, to men like that it makes no difference who you are and who you know - they only want one thing, and they'll go to extreme lengths to get it.' You huffed out a breath of frustration, eyes narrowing into slits as you forced yourself to remain as calm as you could. The dam inside you was swelling, like the shore receding just before a tsunami.

"Why is she still here!? You were supposed to be off of base twenty minutes ago!" Intense Crystalline depths swirled with unbridled rage, simmering just below the surface just itching to be released. König closed the distance between you two, his thick arms wrapping around your tiny stature and hauling you up to be nestled against his chest. He didn't break his stride, his eyes on a constant swivel as he surged forwards, his fingers twitching against your thighs. A feeble squeak of surprise slipped from between your lips, your arms and legs squeezing around his waist and neck to keep you steady.

"She's too damn stubborn - she wouldn't move without knowing what was going on." Ghost muttered, his gloved hands being shoved into his jean pockets. He too, kept his eyes on a swivel, falling into step just next to König whilst Johnny brought up the rear.

"Then perhaps next time, you walk and talk at the same time Lieutenant." König snarled, the ferociously venomous retort making you jump. You'd never heard his voice become so thick with such a hostile emotion before, let alone had you ever heard his accent be so prominent. Your eyes watered on their own accord, the utterly vexatious frustration flowing through your veins like thick magma in the base of a volcano.

Perhaps you needed this, needed these military men to push your already fragile self over the edge into the blackened depths of blissful insanity. Instincts that had been engraved upon the very porcelain coated soul you possessed kicked in, your body moving from the memory your muscles had. Your right hand drew back just far enough to go unnoticed by König, ramming forwards hard enough that the resonating crack that echoed through the corridor made you shiver in disgust.

A snarl ripped from the very depths of Königs soul as he released his hold on you, his hands disappearing under his hood to cover what you assumed was a bloodied nose. Your body twisted like that of a cats, landing on your feet and bolting forwards with such speed even you were surprised.

"Y/n!" You heard the animalistic growl of König, the way his voice dropped a solid octave bounced off the walls like bullets off the pavement. It sent your heart into a tizzy, panic drowning out your moment of rage induced insanity. Keep running. You snapped at yourself, demanding your legs propel you further faster. Dantes dog tags bounced against your chest, the cooled metal giving you strength to keep going.

You were never one for tactical escapes - you were far too clumsy and loud for your own good. Left and right you weaved through the bodies that piled into the corridor to see the spectacle you'd made yourself out to be, their eyes becoming saucers as they watched their superiors charge after you of all people. Twists and turns left you discombobulated - you didn't know where you were inside the barracks, but you didn't truly care. You had one goal in mind; escape and get back home.

What would Dante do? You wondered as you slid between a soldiers legs, rolling back to your feet and bolting for an open window. Cause a distraction. Yes, yes he'd cause a distraction big enough to force them to have to help, giving you time to ultimately slip away unseen... hopefully.

The rage was back again, consuming you like the toxic noxious fumes from a volcanic eruption. Out the window you threw yourself, landing on your right shoulder as you rolled. Leaping to your feet you ran towards where they kept the damaged vehicles on base - the ones that were sent off for repairs. It wasn't guarded and hardly any personnel went there during their security checks - it was practically in the middle of base, hardly a spot for anything to go awry... little did they know that you, we're a bundle of chaos about to erupt into a mushroom clouded fireball.

Yes, a distraction was indeed in order, and you knew just the one to keep them on their toes. Little did you know, that off in the distance, that very lapdog was watching you with gleeful anticipation.

Tag List

@scaredknight @lovefallingtopieces @majorsimphere @grizzersmamma @kdkj122920 @ofmenanduhhhwellmen @lianyanhongcheng @treehuggingzealot @deadpoetsandhoney @lolchicsa @daincole @mignightlockhearth

[waywardmillennial]

update on me

what I've been up to the past few months -- that'll end up being mostly a fandom update bc that is my life (no joke) and also some insights into what I'll be blogging about more now

✰ dan and phil games returned!

anyone who follows me on discord knows I love dnp and I was shocked when they made their dramatic comeback last October. that funeral video was so extra, in the most dnp way! I'm so happy that they're already making the channel whatever they want it to be, and can both be out and make so many gay jokes now

✰ ofmd s2

it was beautiful. it was sad. it was joyous. those first few eps were so much darker than we were used to, but I trusted Jenks and he did a great job (esp when you think of max cutting so much of their budget -- bugs bunny meme to those twats). but I was given so many Izzy feelings that I never asked for T_T doing what I can to help get s3 renewed and I have some hope

✰ loki s2

this one was also beautiful, and heartbreaking, but in a good hurt kind of way. this season was made with so much love and honestly one of the best things marvel has ever made. s2 also gave us O.B. (Ke Huy Quan I love you!) and it was even gayer than s1 which I didn't know was possible. I want more (kinda?) but also don't want them to mess up what was practically a perfect ending -- and the most canon lokius we could have hoped for. if they decide to let the old men kiss, then they can greenlight s3

✰ doctor who

the end of the year really kept given me more fandom content than I could keep up with -- but having Tennant and Tate back together again was such a joy! and following the trend of everything else I've been excited about recently, DW came back loudly declaring "gay rights!" I'm unsure if disney being so involved is a good thing (I'm inclined to say it's not) but I already love Ncuti and I can't wait for more of Fifteen & Ruby. and I'm still crying about Wilf tbh

✰ the marvels

solid movie. so much fun. Kamala and family stole the show! and god bless they made Carol gayer

✰ holiday times

I put more effort into celebrating halloween and christmas and enjoyed both of them more than I have in the past few years, so that was really nice.

✰ creative writing

I have only started to get back into doing anything creative but I have a few ideas. I'd like to finally post a stony fic this year. and maybe lokius. and probably skippypants (I have a few others that are very rare pair, so who knows)

EDIT: I can't believe I forgot a big one!

✰ gf live

what an amazing show! the boys are so good with a live audience and it was a treat to watch the show with a whole theatre full of people. it's the best way to watch it imo and I would do it again. and at my show Mari came up to wait in a line near me so I talked to her for a bit. I didn't ask for a photo or anything, just had a normal conversation. but I definitely melted into a puddle right after and she is even more beautiful in person!

[flick-of-the-wrist]

I was reading an early Stephen King story about male record execs (and their male conquests) and I thought to myself: surely Freddie Mercury had a toss about in the proverbial hay with John Reid.

In other words, might they have fucked?

I don't say this to imply that every time two gay men entered the same room, they automatically jumped into bed together. That's not only outlandish, but it's more than a tad homophobic. After all, no matter how few eligible gay bachelors were willing receivers (or givers for that matter) in the 1970s, horniness simply cannot make a swan out of an ugly duckling.

However, I digress.

The world as we know it today was not the world in the 1970s. We think of our world as much more politically correct than any person who lived through the 1970s thought of their world, let me just tell you. It would shock the hell out of people to know what kinds of things were said and done in the 70s.

And not all of them were bad.

In fact, what's bad about two adult gay men having sex? Maybe there's the moral dilemma of a record exec (John Reid) boinking his newly signed, very green, but obviously queer talent (Freddie--I mean, Queen, of course). But that's also what makes it so god damn appealing. I mean, John Reid was obviously gay. Freddie was obviously (or at least obviously to anyone who cared to look) gayer than a daffodil, darling. And not only was he homo as fuck, he was also always aching for connection.

That, in itself, doesn't mean they'd just immediately hop into bed. For example, I do not think that Freddie and Kenny Everett ever fucked, even though they had chemistry out the wazoo. Nor do I think that he and Elton John ever fucked (they were simply BFFS, 4ever and always). I don't think he and David Wigg ever fucked, either, despite the incessant flirting (the bigger the better---in EVERYTHING). The list goes on.

I do have trouble saying with absolute certainty that Freddie Mercury didn't witness, aid, or abet in one of John Reid's orgasms, though. There's something about them that just speaks to a fucking relationship. Maybe it's the closeness.

But, but, but, you might say: Freddie was close with a lot of people. He actively rested his cute little head on Roger Taylor's shoulders. And, though I'm a huge fan of Froger fics, I don't think (nay, I absolutely know) they ever did the nasty. He practically HUMPED our boy Brian May onstage, and yet never did their penises meet (besides tentatively, like stalwart neighbors, across the room in the early days before each band member had his own dressing room).

Freddie was an incorrigible flirt, and a horny git who might have humped a table leg if he thought it would please the audience, but the man was also a sensitive and deeply emotional human being who knew when to keep his freak on a leash and when to let it burst out of its cage. Where business was concerned, I think he kept his penis as a Victorian couple might have kept a very willful child: seen and not heard.

Still, still, there is something cheeky in the way Freddie and John looked at each other. I think they fucked. At least once. It wasn't intentional, or planned. What good sex ever is? And, despite Freddie's misgivings about mixing business and pleasure, I think he was just young enough that he blurred the lines. He let John seduce him (really, we all know it was Freddie who was the seductress). Then, he put his finger on John's lips and told him it could never happen again. Now that John had a taste of that immaculate bussy, he was to be in Freddie's control forevermore.

Now, before you go on a rampage and declare me mentally unfit to blog, just know that I have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about. Just like you, dear reader, I did not know Freddie Mercury, so I have no earthly idea whom he did or did not fuck.

I only have my imagination. And this lovely fic, which has- admittedly- twisted my arm.

[ofsweetgrass-andsurvival]

Jeremiah Fisher Headcanon: Where He Dates A Shy Reader (Pt.2)

PART 2 to this:

it's the second karaoke party of the season — and this time, you're determined to show jeremiah how much you love him, instead of the other way round.

dating him – being with him – it's every dream and every wish you've ever held in your heart, rolled into one. no one's ever had hands as gentle as his, no one's had hair that felt as soft under your fingers – no one's ever made your body sing while being touched quite the way he does.

you have to show him how much you love him — in a big enough gesture to contain all that excess of feeling. big enough for him to deserve. even if the thought makes you break out in a cold sweat.

so there you are, steeling your nerves as your boyfriend plays beer pong a few feet away from you, entirely unaware of your carefully laid plans. you've even browbeaten conrad into assisting you with his guitar, and you ignore his sullen glower as you finally clamber onto the makeshift stage, tapping the mike apprehensively.

your voice comes out as a minuscule squeak the first few times, but finally you manage to make yourself heard. "um," you say nervously, almost quaking in your delicate kitten heels, an early birthday present from jeremiah. "i, uh, wanted to sing something, if everyone doesn't mind..."

you're cringing inside at the stunned faces around you – people who've not heard you say more than two words in their presence. no one looks more shocked than your own boyfriend, who's abandoned his game of beer pong to stare at you, eyes the size of dinnerplates.

"i-it's," you take in a long, deep breath, willing yourself to see this through. "for m-my boyfriend, to say that i – that i love him very much." at this, you can actually see jeremiah's mouth pop open in shock, the red solo cup in his hand falling to the floor. you almost run off the stage at the roars of encouragement you hear from the crowd.

but jeremiah's eyes are beginning to glow a bright, brilliant blue as he looks at you, waiting like everyone else – and you take courage from that, and begin to sing.

"i used to wanna be, living like there's only me," you quaver – your voice isn't strong and sure like jeremiah's, it probably doesn't sound even half as good – but he deserves to hear you declare your love as open-heartedly and sincerely as he does for you. he deserves more. he deserves the whole world. "but now i spend my time, thinking 'bout a way to get you off my mind..."

jeremiah's smile is so blinding, so immediate and instant and warm, that for a full minute you forget how mortified you are, visibly trembling on stage — nothing matters except the look in his eyes as you sing.

so you keep singing: "i used to be so tough, never really gave enough, and then you caught my eye, giving me the feeling of a lightning strike..."

your voice is finally loud now, louder than the whoops of all the partygoers as they watch you sing, grinning – but your eyes are only for jeremiah, marveling at the sudden, soft red stealing over his face as he keeps staring at you. you're both locked in each other's gazes, as if you're the only two people in the room.

you hold his gaze, even smiling a little yourself as you let the next few lines fall from your lips: "look at me now, i'm falling, i can't even talk, still stuttering, this ground i'm on, it keeps shaking —"

jeremiah doesn't even let you finish the rest of the verse, taking a running leap onto the stage to kiss you resoundingly on the mouth, his lips the best thank-you you could have ever gotten, moving insistently, inexorably, so very, very intimately against your own.

all your friends are going wild below, screaming and laughing – but you don't hear them, you can't even see them — all you can sense is jeremiah, pressing his lips to yours and whirling you around in his arms until you're both breathless and dizzy.

conrad is groaning in disgust next to the two of you, calling it a "sickening display" – but even this you don't notice, because jeremiah's now whispering softly into your ear, making you shiver: "you're so amazing, baby – i love you so much. so fucking much."

you can feel jeremiah's fingers wrap around your hand, the one still holding the mike — and squeeze reassuringly.

so you finish the song together, pressed skin-to-skin as everyone cheers: "all i wanna be, yeah, all i ever wanna be, yeah, yeah, is somebody to you / everybody's tryna be a billionaire, but every time i look at you, i just don't care, cause all i wanna be, yeah, all i ever wanna be, yeah, yeah, is somebody to you..."

you hug him hard enough to hurt your own arms after the song finally ends — because you got what you wanted in the end. jeremiah is your somebody. your only somebody. the only person you've ever loved. and luckily, amazingly, extraordinarily — he feels the same way. ♡

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

Prompt: No one in Broadchurch would've taken Alec Hardy to be a dog person. It's just that the detective had always seemed much more like the kind of man to own a very distant cat which would hiss at anyone coming to close. So it is a bit of a shock when the DI declares that the huge black dog that looks more like an actual wolf than anything else is his and that people can stop making a fuss about their safety due to an apparent wolf sighting, everything's fine!!

Aka I'm thinking of something where Lucian has been seen in the wolf (not lycan) form he has in your Vampire AU and Alec has to help out by pretending to be a dog owner and honestly neither of them is particulary amused lol

The first thing this brought to mind was 'Is Vardy taking Lucian out for walkies' and now I can't stop laughing. Lucian, honey, I'm so sorry.

How does Lucian become a wolf in this au? I still don't know how he can do it, but who cares.

On with the fic!

--

It was a shock to the people of Broadchurch, who had seen their local DI for the past four years never show any interest in any animal before, minus that one dog that belonged to a suspect in the Latimer case. Usually, he seemed to avoid them at all costs, or they avoided him in turn.

But recently, there have been reports to the station about a large, black wolf in the area. Broadchurch didn't have wolves, so it was causing a lot of talk with people, did it escape, was it from another area and just wandered here? Did someone own it?

That last question was answered when people spotted DI Alec Hardy walking the streets with a large, black dog that clearly looked more like a wolf than even a wolfdog. He didn't seem to speak to anyone who stared at him as he walked by with the wolf on a harness, the kind that the law stated was necessary for large dogs in this area.

The wolf, it had to be, there was no way it was anything else, seemed to just walk alongside him, like a dog would. Sometimes Hardy would scratch it behind the ears, or say something quietly to the wolf, but he didn't seem to be making any sort of deal over having it.

Olly Stevens, because of course it would be him, it was always him, approached after a week and a half of people having seen the detective with his new... pet.

"Hardy, can I ask you a few questions?" Olly spoke up, walking alongside Hardy, staying on his other side, away from the wolf.

"You can only ask one, and you already did." Hardy replied, a bite in his voice.

Clearly, Olly ignored that. "What's with the dog?"

"He's not a dog."

"... Isn't it... illegal to have exotic pets?"

"He's not an exotic pet. And yes, it is illegal to own them in this area." Hardy said, as if Olly was an idiot. He was, but he wasn't allowed to say that to his face anymore, Miller didn't like it. Even though she could say it, that wasn't fair.

Olly looked at the wolf, who was looking back at him. Hardy put a hand on the wolf's head, scratching behind an ear. "Do you mind getting out of my way? Lucian and I want to finish our walk."

"Lucian?" Olly raised an eyebrow. "You named him after that guy you've been seeing?"

If looks could kill...

"That was his name before I met him." Hardy said sharply. "And I don't get what's with all this stupid gossip I've been hearing. What's wrong with me having him and taking him for walks? I don't talk behind people's backs about their pets."

Lucian made a sound, he didn't seem happy, and Hardy sighed. "Sorry, you're not a pet. Anyway, get the hell out of here, Stevens."

"Is he the wolf everyone's been talking about?" Olly blurted out.

"Yes, sometimes he likes to be off-leash in the fields, there is nothing illegal about that. The leash laws are for within the city and on the beach. Now, move." He pushed Olly out of the way and kept walking.

When he was sure they were away, he turned back to Lucian. "I know you hate this, and it's embarrassing, but you knew it was risky to change so close to town. This place has eyes everywhere, and people talk."

Lucian made a woof-like sound at him.

"It's only for a bit, until all this wolf business settles down. Then you can just be yourself again. And when you 'leave', I'll just tell everyone that I was just watching you for someone."

He got a huff in response, then watched as Lucian tried to reach around himself, nipping at the harness. "Yeah, yeah, I know this is demeaning to you, but it's the law. You are, technically, a big dog in the eyes of the law."

It wouldn't be until they got back, when Lucian transformed, that he could finally speak to Hardy. "I feel like you're amused by having me follow your silly, human laws."

Hardy shrugged, not saying anything to this. "I'm just doing my job." He smiled just a little when he heard Lucian mumble something about having him fly around on a leash in return.

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Lessons Learned

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Loki x Reader

Request: Loki fic where he’s teaching the reader how to fight and they end up with like a hot n heavy make out sesh? 😏 ((Loki + fighting + steamy?? 😍)) - @hellotvshowtrash

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: None that I can think of. Unless you count bad training scene writing 😅

Author’s Note: I'm killing to birds with one stone on this one. A request and a Monthly prompt challenge that I am once again coming in at the last second with this fic just because I couldn't decide what to do with anything this month. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this one! The prompt is of course in bold and is for @hellotvshowtrash 's #JuneMCUPromptChallenge

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥

The sound of rattan sticks hitting each other filled the air. While each hit didn't hold a lot of power behind them, the two children that wield them tried their best to subdue the other in this practice match. For whoever one this challenge would be declared the superior friend.

Y/N swung, nearly missing Loki's head as he turned to swing his own. He attempted to sweep her feet to knock her down, but he only managed to hit her ankle in the process. It caused her to wince slightly, as she kept her balance before bringing the other end of the stick up, hitting him just under the jaw.

Loki stepped back, an amused smirk on his face. "You're getting better."

Not wasting a second, Y/N swung once more ending with Loki blocking her hit. "I have been practicing." She said in between hits. "Or you are simply weakening."

It had been a joke to Y/N, but the words had stung Loki in a way that he didn't show her. With one more swipe at her feet, he attempted to knock her down. Y/N jumped to avoid her ankles being hit once more. This gave Loki the opportunity to use his magic to make her trip as she landed.

Just as intended, Y/N hadn't landed on her feet, causing her to fall back, successfully dropping her stick. She landed on her butt with a thud. Once she realized what happened, she looked up at Loki.

"No fair, I thought we agreed to you not using magic." It was the terms they had agreed on before they began their match. But seeing as Loki had gone against what they agreed upon, she was shocked and slightly hurt.

Loki took a few steps towards her. "My father once said that we have to prepare for what our enemies might do. Even our friends are capable of changing things up."

"The Allfather has a point." She said before winging her legs out, successfully knocking Loki over.

The moment he fell to the ground, they both began laughing. It echoed within the walls that surrounded them. The two enjoyed any and all time together. Y/N had been surprised that Loki offered to spar with her. Usually it had been Thor that had been willing to, but the other Prince had been off elsewhere, forgetting about their scheduled practice.

Y/N had been glad that Loki had stepped in. She had been growing used to Thor and the others moves and it was becoming easier to predict them. The only two that seemed to change things up was Loki and even Lady Sif. They gave her the challenge she usually sought after.

"If I am to be one of the greatest Shield Maidens Asgard has ever seen, I suppose I would need to know of these tricks of yours." She said the moment they stopped laughing.

"If that is your intention, Lady Y/N," The new voice that entered the room had startled the two, causing them to quickly stand. Out of instinct, Y/N bowed her head quickly as the Allfather came to a stop before them. "You should be out training with the other warriors-to-be."

"Yes, your majesty." She quickly nodded her head before picking up her stick and quickly leaving the room.

Odin had watched as she had before looking back towards Loki. "You've taught her a valuable lesson. Preparing for anything will ensure she is ready when the time comes. For now it is time for your lessons with Thor."

_____

Over the years Y/N and Loki continued their sparring matches. And each one had been unique in their own way. The Prince and the warrior had both grown in ways that one could not simply have managed without the other. And as the years went by, they both had developed feelings that they kept hidden from the other.

For they both believed that if those feelings were ever said out loud that the dynamic between the two would change. That either one of them would no longer wish to continue being around the other. Instead, they kept it to themselves for the time being. Of course, that didn't mean they didn't let things slip every once in a while.

Y/N walked into the training room with her sword ready for training. There was a look of annoyance on her face as she made her way towards the center of the room where Loki had been waiting.

The look hadn't gone unnoticed by him. It actually had caused his eyebrow to raise as she approached him. There wasn't the usual banter or even the simplicity of asking how their days were going. It seemed that Y/N was ready to jump right into the match.

"It seems we're jumping right into things." He said with a slight shrug of his shoulders before he manifested his scepter in his hand.

"Yes," Y/N said as she lifted her sword. "I have a few things I need to work out and talking isn't going to help."

"Then let's begin." He said with a nod of his head.

The moment the words had left his mouth, Y/N was on him. Her sword met his scepter instantly. Every turn and every hit had been blocked by the other. May it have been because of whatever had Y/N so worked up, Loki had been able to figure out each maneuver she attempted the second she tried. It made him wonder if she had ever gone into battle with her mind clouded as it was. And if he was being honest with himself, the thought alone scared him in ways he never believed possible.

When their weapons collided once more, Loki used the opportunity to push Y/N back far enough to cause her to stumble. "Whatever it is that has your mind clouded is making it rather easy to pick up on what you intend on doing."

Y/N took that moment to catch her breath. "I'd rather not talk about it."

Part of Y/N did want to talk about it. But the other part knew better. It knew that she had no right to feel the way she currently was. She had made no move to let Loki know her feelings and after last night's feast, she knew that she shouldn't have this pang of hurt or even jealousy in her heart. And yet she did. She felt hurt from the way Loki had spent most of his time with another woman.

The man that normally did not allow another to place a hand on him had a woman by his side, her arms wrapped around him for most of the night. The sight itself had hurt. But as the hours had progressed and when she saw the woman the next morning, still in the same clothing from the night before had made the jealousy appear.

"Then put your emotions towards your fighting." Loki tried to hopefully get her to open up. He had never once seen her so closed off as she had been right now. "Whatever or whoever it is that you are dealing with, it can be put into your fighting without putting you in harm's way."

She listened to his words before nodding her head. "Alright."

Loki nodded his head in agreement before he braced himself for whatever it was that Y/N might throw at him. Once they began sparring again, Y/N tried her hardest to let the emotions she felt cloud her mind. At first, she hadn't let them go. She tried to work around them while fighting with Loki. But after a few more moments, she let them go. And when she did, it was Loki that was beginning to struggle to keep up.

At one point they both had lost their weapons and began hand to hand. Some punches had been blocked while others had met their target. The whole time Loki hadn't been able to predict anything. The emotions that filled Y/N had been enough to even make Loki stagger back a few times. And as Y/N crouched and swiped her legs, Loki fell to the ground instantly.

A smirk pulled at Y/N's lips as she watched as he didn't get up for a minute. He stayed on the ground trying to catch his breath. It caused Y/N's eyebrow to raise as she stepped closer to him while keeping an eye out for anything he could potentially do.

"I've waited a long time for this." Her smirk still plastered on her face as she looked down at him. "How does it feel to finally be bested by me?"

A small chuckle passed Loki's lips as he looked up at her. "Only because you needed an outlet. Otherwise, I doubt you'd been able to."

"You said I should channel it." She said as she reached down and offered her hand. "So I did."

Y/N should have known better. She should have known that this may have not been the end of the match. That there was a possibility that Loki could have one final attempt up his sleeve. And he did. The very second Loki had a hold of her hand, he had her flipped on her back with him hovering over her, keeping her pinned down.

Her eyes widened slightly as she looked up at him. "I should have known."

Loki chuckled and nodded his head. "For as many times as I've warned you, I don't think you've fully grasped the lesson."

"One day I might actually learn it." She chuckled as she maneuvered out of Loki's hold, causing him to land on his back with her staddling him. "But until then, I'll just use it to my advantage."

"Using it to your advantage only gets so far." He said before moving against her hold had her underneath him once more. "You seem to at least be in a better mood. Would you like to talk about it?"

She looked up at him and shook her head. "Not in the slightest. Some things are better left unsaid."

"Says the woman that has never normally left things unsaid when she is upset." He noted. He watched as her brows furrowed for a moment before they relaxed. He watched as she debated on answering him. He watched as the wheels seemed to turn in her head. At least that was until she had leaned up and brought her lips to his.

It had caught him off guard that it had taken him longer to react than necessary. Of course, by then, Y/N had felt she had overstepped her boundaries and pulled away from him, before attempting to pull herself out of his hold. But he stopped her and made her look towards him. Their eyes met for a moment, a silent understanding between the two of them before their lips crashed together.

When they pulled away from each other a moment later, a smirk pulled at both of their lips. "I think you've learned the lesson of expressing yourself."

Y/N rolled her eyes at his words and pushed Loki away from her. "Lesson learned."

[tennessoui]

this is probably too many prompts lol but uhhh obikin: #6 meeting at a coffee shop au; #24 literally bumping into each other au; #40 exes meeting again after not speaking for years au (i'm a sucker for breaking up and getting back together again lol); #42 star-crossed lovers au; #48 meeting again at a high school reunion au

hi!! you probably forgot you sent this at all and I wouldn't blame you in the slightest. I'm pretty sure someone else already asked for 24, 40, and 42, so I wrote #6 instead! warnings for this one: bittersweet in that both anakin and obi-wan are sad, also the author is sad, also this takes place in the midwest in america (this is the first fic that is obviously set in america!!! wow!!)

6. Meeting At A Coffee Shop Diner AU (1.9k)

“Have a seat anywhere you want,” the hostess tells Obi-Wan without looking up from her phone.

Obi-Wan blinks and then looks around the deserted seating area. “Thank you, uh.” She’s not wearing a name tag.

“Angel’ll bring you the menu and take care of you, thanks for coming in,” she says, glancing up at him and then away.

Well then. Obi-Wan reminds himself that customer service isn’t everyone’s strong suit, that she might have had a rough day, that he’s here for the quick food on his way through town, that his ego isn’t fragile enough that he needs to be led to a table with a smile.

The restaurant is almost completely deserted. There’s two truckers eating their weight in bacon and eggs at the counter, and a family of four seated around a table, resolutely picking at their food instead of talking to each other. And then there’s Obi-Wan.

He chooses a booth by the window, one that overlooks the absolute nothingness of midwestern American scenery. If he cranes his neck, he can probably see corn.

God, Obi-Wan’s sick of seeing corn, and he’s only been in this part of the country for a few hours. He needs to go right through most of it to get where he’s headed. He’s not sure how he won’t die of boredom.

The thought sends a pang through his chest. It’s too soon to think of death even in an offhand way. He taps his fingers on the cover of his leather journal, before a line of dark brown under one of them catches his eye. He studies his hand critically.

It’s been two days since the funeral. Surely he wouldn’t still have grave dirt under his nails. Surely things like that wash away eventually.

“Hey,” a voice says from in front of him. A man is turned around and kneeling up in the booth in front of Obi-Wan’s, leaning over the garishly red vinyl of the empty seat with a menu clutched in one hand. His hair is short and dark blond, an undercut with a long fringe settling over his forehead. He has a nice sort of smile, one that looks genuine but doesn’t touch his eyes. Obi-Wan notices how long the man’s neck is and how predominant his collarbones appear in the loose white shirt he’s wearing, before he forces himself to focus only on his face. “I’m Angel,” the guy says, passing over the menu. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

Obi-Wan accepts it gingerly. It looks like something that’s perpetually sticky. “Water is fine,” he says politely. “Thank you.”

“Will do,” Angel salutes him and ambles away. Obi-Wan watches him go before shaking his head to rid himself of any sort of thought, and opening the menu.

It’s standard food fare, of course. Breakfast options served all day if anyone were to come in and request them. Lunch and dinner options are also served all day, probably for the same reason: a diner like this can’t afford to turn anyone away, even if they want a hamburger at nine in the morning.

A glass of water clinks down onto the table next to him, making him look up at Angel, who’s looking at him curiously.

“You ready to order?” he asks, even though Obi-Wan is still very much looking at the menu and it’s also only been a few minutes at most since Angel gave it to him in the first place.

“Do you have any suggestions?” Obi-Wan asks politely. “I’ve never been here before. What’s good?”

“The water,” Angel says and then laughs like he’s said something funny. Obi-Wan finds his own mouth curling up at the sound. Sometimes people’s laughter is contagious, like a yawn.

And then Angel says, “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No,” Obi-Wan admits. “North of Boston.”

Angel whistles, like Obi-Wan has said something impressive. “Boston, huh? What are you doing all the way out here?”

The pit in his stomach intensifies. He does his best not to look at his nails and the grave dirt that might still be under them. “Driving,” he finally says. “And are you...from around here?”

Angel’s eyes grow distant for a second, and when he focuses again on Obi-Wan, they’re cold. “Born and raised,” he tells him flatly. “Never got out.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan doesn’t know what to do with the sort of bitterness in Angel’s tone. It complements his own well enough.

“If you like eggs, I’ll put you in for the house special omelette,” Angel declares suddenly, all business again. “It’s four eggs, tomatoes, peppers, cheese. The usual.”

“What makes it special?” Obi-Wan asks, closing his menu and setting it down on the table in front of him.

“For you?” Angel drawls, “I’ll watch the cook to make sure he doesn’t get any egg shells in it,” and then he winks, holding out his hand.

Naturally, Obi-Wan shakes it. Naturally, Obi-Wan realizes a second after feeling Angel’s warm, calloused rough palm against his own that the man had meant to take the menu from Obi-Wan.

He can’t remember the last time he’s blushed this red, but he is absolutely regretting everything about this road trip. God, he’d pay money just to be able to leave now.

He should get in his car and drive back to Boston. It had been a stupid idea to come out here anyway, a result of stir-craziness and a desire to outrun the death of his father.

And now look what he’s doing. Shaking hands with his handsome waiter, as if he isn’t thirty-nine and perfectly aware of social norms.

Thankfully, miraculously, Angel laughs and this time it sounds real. “It’s okay,” he tells him, reaching out to pick up the menu.

Luckily for everyone involved, Obi-Wan finds it very easy to laugh at himself. “Well. It’s nice to meet you, Angel, I’m Obi-Wan.”

“I’ll go put the order in,” Angel says, “Obi-Wan.”

He’s back within five minutes, sliding into the seat across from Obi-Wan. So much for no eggshells in his omelette, but he can’t bring himself to be disappointed. There’s something magnetically fascinating about Angel. He’d like to know more.

“So you’re driving?” Angel asks, picking up a thread of conversation from several minutes ago. “Where are you going?”

“I was thinking of Alaska,” Obi-Wan says. “I’ve--I’ve always wanted to go.”

“You’re driving from Boston to Alaska?” Angel whistles, raising his eyebrows in shock. “I think the gas money alone would cost me two months of work.”

Obi-Wan shrugs. It’s not like he makes much himself as a teacher in Massachusetts. “My father was a lifelong gambler,” he discloses without really knowing why he’s telling this to a stranger. “He came into a bit of luck near the end. A bit of a fortune as well. And when he...died, I inherited it and his house.”

Angel touches his hand softly. “I’m sorry,” he says. “When did he pass?”

Obi-Wan huffs out what might be a chuckle. “A week ago, actually. It’s summer break in Massachusetts--I’m a teacher--and I suddenly had nothing to stay for, for a bit. It was either leave for Alaska or find some other way to cope.”

He runs a hand--his free hand, the one Angel isn’t touching--over his beard as he gives the man a rueful smile. “Dad always wanted me to see more of the world.”

“My mom was the same way,” Angel leans forward to tell him, as if it’s a secret. Obi-Wan feels like it is a secret, that there’s something delicate and fragile in the air. Something that matches whatever emotion is filling up Angel’s eyes. “Always telling me to leave, go get famous, go get happy, come back and tell her about it.”

“You didn’t?” Obi-Wan asks, his chest tightening at the thought that the man before him could be unhappy.

“I couldn’t,” Angel sneers, looking out the window and propping his chin on his hand. Some things must be too close to the heart to tell someone to their face. “Mom got sick. I wanted to get out, I was so close. Graduated high school, packed my stuff. I was going to go to California. To Los Angeles, really make it big.” He rolls his eyes and scoffs, as if there’s something inherently funny about the dreams he must have cherished for so long.

“Then mom collapsed going down the stairs. Just passed out in the middle of the day. Doctors told us she was sick. Then life became all about treatment plans and monitoring symptoms and getting the money for the medicines and I never left. Got a job here when I was eighteen years old, right before I graduated high school. It’s all I’ve ever known, I guess.”

“And your mother?” Obi-Wan asks, mouth dry and heart all tangled up in itself for this stranger man, for Angel with the hard, sad eyes.

“Died a year and a half ago or so,” Angel says flatly like he’s repeated the words so often in his head that the truth digs no barbs into his flesh. Obi-Wan knows that voice is a lie. How often has he looked in the mirror this past week and told himself, ‘Qui-Gon Jinn is dead’? He can’t imagine a year and a half would make the pain go away.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan says seriously, reaching across the table to touch Angel’s hand this time.

Angel shrugs but doesn’t pull away. “Is what it is, I guess,” he says. “I’ve made my peace with it. And the fact that I’ll never leave this godforsaken town.”

“You could,” Obi-Wan points out hesitantly. “You could leave tomorrow.”

For a second, a wild and previously undiscovered part of Obi-Wan wonders what it would be like, if Angel did leave tomorrow--with him. If they got into the same car and headed to Alaska together and Obi-Wan wasn’t alone at the wheel and Angel wasn’t alone in this town. If Obi-Wan could look over at the man in the passenger seat, asleep against the doorway as they crossed into Canada.

Obi-Wan wonders. Obi-Wan aches.

“I could,” Angel says, laughing once. “I guess I could. I guess I just can’t think of a good enough reason to.”

There’s a call of his name from the kitchen, and Angel stands and stretches, checking the time on his watch. “That’ll be your omelette, sir, which is perfect timing considering I’m off shift as of five minutes ago.”

“Thank you then,” Obi-Wan replies, ignoring the pang in his gut at the knowledge he won’t be able to keep talking to him. “It was nice meeting you, Angel.”

Angel’s face grows dark for a second as his jaw clenches. “That’s not my name,” he finally says, scratching at his neck with one hand. “That’s just what they called me when I started working here. Angel, like Los Angeles. Cause I told everyone for weeks this was a temporary thing, you know? I’d be going to California soon as mom got better. Guess they knew better than I did.”

Obi-Wan has never wanted to kidnap a grown man away from a place more, so he hides his hands under the table instead. “Would you tell me your name then?” he asks, wondering if he’s overstepping but needing to know too much to censor himself.

“It’s Anakin,” his waiter says, sticking his hand out, no menu to grab.

Obi-Wan takes it gently, turns it over, and cradles it between both of his hands. “Then it’s nice to meet you, Anakin.”

Maybe, he thinks as he picks at his omelette and watches Anakin shoulder his way through the front doors of the diner before disappearing down the street, maybe he can stay a day in this nowhere town. Just an extra day.

Yes, he thinks, taking a sip of his water. He’ll try the pancakes next.

[milesdadworth]

Prompt: write a dream/nightmare sequence!

technically this isn't exactly a prompt fill since I've had this written for a while but I've written a ton of dream/nightmare sequences for my bratfeen fake dating au

I'm gonna share my favorite that I've written for this fic where miles is still struggling w the guilt from his father's death and his recent discovery that phoenix is going to school to become a defense lawyer—

so here's a lil sneak peek of one of the dreams miles has in a few chapters

--

Miles Edgeworth was nine years old again.

He was standing in an elevator, his father's body already slumped and bleeding in the corner. In the other corner, there was the great hulking figure of Terry Fawles, blood dripping from his lips.

Phoenix Wright stood before him, but he wasn’t nine like Miles was. He was older, his correct age, but wearing the horrendous pink sweater…and he was extending his hand out toward Miles. 

Miles shook his head, backing away. He knew he didn’t deserve the hand Phoenix was offering him. In his dream, he knew he was the one who had shot and killed his father. He was the reason his father was dead, and yet…

“Miles, please, it’s okay. I can help you,” Phoenix said. “Take my hand. I can get us out of here.”

“B-But, my father…” Miles squeaked. “I-I—”

“It’s okay,” Phoenix said. “I can protect you. I can help you. I’m a defense lawyer, okay? I can get you cleared for this.”

“N-No…you shouldn’t. I killed him. It’s my fault that he’s dead,” Miles protested. “I-I should be punished accordingly.” 

“It doesn’t matter, okay, Miles?” Phoenix insisted. “It’s okay, I can still clear your name. They can’t declare you guilty for this.” 

Miles shook his head and looked down at his hand, where he was still holding the pistol that had only moments ago killed his father.

“Put the gun down, Miles. We’ll wipe your prints from the gun,” Phoenix insisted. 

“Y-You can’t do that,” Miles said, flinching away from Phoenix. His grip tightened on the gun. 

“We have to, Miles,” Phoenix said a little more forcefully. “We have to fix this. You can’t go to prison for this.” 

As if he weren’t in control of his limbs, he raised the pistol and pointed it at Phoenix’s chest. 

“I have to be punished for this! It’s my fault!” Miles choked out through his sobs. “You can’t clear my name!” 

“I can. I can make this right, Miles. You have to trust me,” Phoenix pleaded as if he wasn’t fazed by the gun in Miles’s hand at all. “Please, just take my hand, Miles. I’ll save you from this, okay? Just put the gun down.”

Miles shook his head wordlessly.

The gun cocked. 

Miles began to tremble, sensing what was coming but feeling powerless to stop it.

“Get away from me,” Miles pleaded, tears starting to fall onto his cheeks. “Please get away from me.”

“I won’t,” Phoenix said defiantly as he stepped forward again. His chest pressed against the barrel of the gun. “Not until you let me help you.” 

Once again feeling helpless as his body responded on its own, his finger squeezed the trigger, and the shot was muffled by the fabric of the sweater that the barrel was pressed against. 

Phoenix’s gaze didn’t leave him, but his eyes widened in shock as his abdomen began to bleed before he collapsed backward, landing beside Miles’s father. 

“I…I can still help you, Miles, please…let me,” Phoenix croaked. “Give me the gun.” 

“Shut up!” Miles screamed. “Shut up! I don’t need your help! I did this! Me!” 

The fluorescent lights of the elevator flickered back on, casting both Phoenix and his father in a sickly light. 

“It’s okay, Miles…I…forgive you…” Phoenix gasped as he breathed his last. Miles stared in horror at Phoenix’s body as it stilled. His eyes were still open but devoid of any life. 

Before Miles could do anything, the elevator jerked into motion, and the door chimed its arrival. As the doors opened, they revealed another person outside the elevator. There was another click—the sound of a gun being cocked once again. Before Miles could even comprehend what was happening, there was another gunshot.

Miles jolted awake as sobs overtook him. He immediately stifled them. He hadn’t had a nightmare that bad in a while.

[harryswatermelonsegment]

Pool Party

Pairing: Reader/Harry Styles

Rating: R, text book smut

Word Count: 5k 😳

Warnings: Slight sub/dom tones I guess? & alcohol consumption

A/N: Sorry this is late, life somewhat resuming here in the UK so it means I’m back at my job. I managed to fall asleep mid edit folks 😳, this is my entry for the @helladirections Summer Feeling Fic Challenge, with the prompt “pool party” click the link for the masterlist. I’m still writing two more, one for @berrynarrybanana ‘s Sex Bucketlist Challenge but it’s turning out to be a 20k slow burn I wasn’t expecting 😬.Oops. But enjoy this one, I’m proud of her. My one other blatant thirst fic can be found here. Reblogs get free gratitude for the next 5 years 🍉💕

You'd been friends with Jeff since your teens, when his parents (despite their wealth), wanted him to get a job at the restaurant you worked at. In their rightful thinking, they wanted him to learn you had to work from the ground up.

Despite your clearly different class background you found a ton of common interests making the whole thing immaterial. He was a caring, down to earth guy and you were both people who really enjoyed sarcastically taunting each other every shift. You'd got used to visiting his house in the hills even though you'd been scared to get lost at first around his parents large house. Becoming solid friends quickly, you'd managed to keep in touch, as much as adult life would now allow anyway.

You knew his main role was managing a pop star but you'd not caught up in a minute and when you did, you kept your job chat out of the conversation where you could. This is why, as you barge through the kitchen, to the pool outside, you're shocked to nearly knock a stunned Harry Styles onto his behind.

"Fuck, shit I'm so sorry" you clutch your chest looking at the red wine on his tank top and his now empty glass. The soiled garment was tucked into some dressy shorts and partly covered by a loud hawaiian patterned shirt. Oh god what had you done?

You were quite honestly mortified. You'd never actually met the man himself, usually meeting Jeff at his for a few drinks or at a restaurant. You'd heard him mentioned in stories about travelling or how his campaigns were running Jeff into the ground with meetings. So, although you weren't a massive fan of his per se, in the way you didn't ask Jeff for updates or info, the way you'd hope you'd meet the attractive pop star was definitely not this.

He looked down at the offending stain then back up into your eyes, keeping his head angled down and blinking through his lashes. You couldn't read his blank expression and it put you on edge.

Maybe it was the heat trapped in the doorway, but as your eyes stayed locked you suddenly felt a fire spread from your navel up to your cheeks, and then from your center down to your toes. Your lower stomach clenched as you stared back at the guy covered in a good 2007 French rouge.

Fuck me he's pretty, you thought.

A rapid film reel of moments; sweaty bodies, those large biceps holding you against the nearest wall, smacking of lips against skin and moans of release flashed in your brain.

It had definitely been a while since you had got laid in your defense, your mood and pent up sexual frustration getting worse by the day as you tried and failed at the L. A. dating scene. Maybe you were picky, but horny and picky was an awful place to be.

However, the reality of the embarrassing scene you were currently a star of, flipped you back into the present.

Seemingly over the initial incident and hopefully not a mind reader to your thirsty brain, he takes you in and smirks.

Harry knew from the way your breathing hitched looking at his torso that you were at least a bit interested. He had clocked you the second you walked in through the big glass doors. A shirt of a band he liked and a natural beauty he wanted to spend some times with you he pondered. Ideally naked.

Zig zagging across the world promoting the album and had left little time to enjoy another person. Status and obligation to his job making it hard to just go out and meet someone. But here you were, dressed unlike anyone else, looking absolutely adorable in your embarrassment. You must be trustworthy if you're in Jeff's home,he wasn't a "bring your friends too" kind of host with his clients usually around.

This could be a fun evening for you both, he thought. Something unspoken, almost magnetic, drawing you both to one another. Surely that wasn't all his side right?

"I was told it was a good year, but I wasn't planning on consuming it quite this way?" inwardly he rolled his eyes at the barely there quip. But you laughed anyway.

"I am so, so awfully sorry, look, let's see if there's some dish liquid or something, possibly some of my next months rent in there too if I have to replace it" you let out a nervous laugh as you walked towards the kitchen. But in all honesty you weren't kidding.

Harry laughed at your sarcastic remark, impressed by your confidence in owning the situation and getting on with things. He casually watched your hips sway past a few people in to the open plan kitchen with as much subtlety as he could, you were confidentially locating all the parts needed to try and remove the offending stain.

"You seem to know your way around 'ere. I'm er…I'm Harry by the way" awkwardly waving as you mixed some solution in the sink drenching a sponge in it.

"Yeah" you smiled turning from the sink with the damp rag "known Jeff a good while, have definitely spilt red wine here before. I'm Y/N" you giggle. The beam from his own mouth matching.

"Ah! Y/N, of course, I've heard him mention you, didn't you once hide rotting mackerel in a unpleasant guys blazer?" he chuckled

"Heyyyy. Only after he spanked my ass getting him the check. Deserved a hot plate to the crotch too" you shot back.

You weren't sure where to go from here the thought of wetting down the white tank yourself definitely appealed but also seemed far too forward.

"Um…" you began gesturing with the sponge in your hand. You expected him to take it from you to sort himself out but..

"Oh yeah sorry" he replied shimmying his shirt off, dumping it on the back of a bar stool, then, crossing his arms across his stomach and lifting the tank top over his head you were slack jawed and frozen taking in the lean muscles and tattoos littered intermittently across his abdomen. He spread the top across the islands worktop flat, then grabbing the sponge with a simple "thanks" and knitting his eyebrows together in concentration as he tried to rid the dull red mark from it's center.

You still hadn't moved. A pink twinge to your cheeks as you watched his shoulder blades and back muscles scrubbing. Dirty thoughts circling your brain still.

"I would have helped you but I didn't want to start a wet tshirt contest in such a high end establishment yknow?" you thought out loud.

"Oh yeah, good call. I'm fiercely competitive Y/N so would probably be under that fancy waterfall thing by now showing off m'moves in my pants" he wiggles his hips trying to suggestively show you his "moves" but you can't help but smirk at just how endearing this man is. Dammit.

When he's finished with his shirt he drapes it over another barstool before handing you the sponge back.

If anyone asks him if he blatantly and deliberately got naked to gauge if you were into him he'd definitely deny it. But the truth is, he definitely did. Luckily for him, with the way you bite your lip and drag your eyes down his flesh as he brushes past your side to get back to the sink, he's right.

"Speaking of getting in the water in your" you use air quotes "'pants' I'm off to get out of mine" you declare, pushing yourself from the counter and keeping eye contact a second as you stroll back to the sliding doors leading to the pool.

"I… What??"

" The pool Harry?.... What did you think I meant?" you narrow your eyes and press your lips together before shutting the glass door again and turning once more to smirk at the opened mouthed man still by the sink.

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

You'd been schmoozing in the water for a few hours now. There were probably only 20 or so people still here and the 3rd frozen marg had got you buzzed. You were in the small hot tub type pool, attached at the top of the main one on a slightly higher level. You hadn't seen Harry for a while but the last few times you caught his eye he'd been surrounded by at least 3 other people fighting for his attention, so you banked your flirtations to soothe your own ego, grabbed another marg and tried to forget about how he had started a tornado inside you, yearning for his hands on your thighs and head peering up at you from where they met in the middle. The strong pull of lust was clearly in your head then. What a shame.

You put it to the back of your mind as you finished catching up with Glenne. Both flushed and giggly as usual, she was the perfect match for Jeff and their chemistry unmatchable. You always enjoyed hanging out with the both of them, if anything, they gave you hope your own match may be out there. She left you in the tub alone, as she went to grab herself another drink and check on her host duties boyfriend.

"Don't you find drinking whilst already in water the weirdest thing?" you look up to find Harry standing over your right shoulder as you sit with your back against the pool wall and your elbows propping you up behind you, drink in one hand. His eyes unsubtley slip down to where your breasts lay pushed together in your halter neck bikini. You definitely weren't imagining it then. Fucking fantastic, you think.

"I mean drowning yourself on the inside from the alcohol and being in more than 4 inches of water really adds a danger element to my life if I'm honest" you reply sipping your drink.

And there goes those dimples again.

He's just in a pair of yellow swimming shorts now which doesn't help the alcohol flush at all. Sitting by your right side, putting his short glass full of amber liquid and ice, on the side of the pool and sliding in to join you. He leaves a small gap, as to not appear a total letch but your smart mouth has him hooked.

Taking a sip of his drink with the water up to his collar bones he hums.

"I do feel incredibly dangerous now, you've got a point"

"I mean if you think that's danger" you edge closer, not drunk but buzzed enough to take your chances you whisper into the shell of his ear. "You should see what thrills are in the guest bathroom. 1st floor on the right? " he chokes on his drink as your suggestive whispers make his dick twitch. He definitely couldn't get out of the pool for a while.

You're gone before you get a verbal reaction. If this all goes badly then you can just hide in there and slip out to an Uber and never see Jeff again right? Right. Cool.

With a soft white towel around you and your heart rate high as you reach the main guest bedroom you enter the room, you notice a large weekend bag in there and freeze. Shit. Someone's staying over, you hadn't factored that in, but a glance to the tag and the embossed H. E. S tells you you're good. Well, if not you'll just be a creep hiding in someone's bathroom but let's not think about it too much. Your faux confidence was working well so far and what other chance was going to arise like this one? Hot celebrities need fun with strangers too right?

Entering the bathroom you rub the towel over you, leaving mostly dry skin. You'd peel away your bikini if you were definite you wouldn't need to peel it back up your limbs should this plan backfire. You move to the mirror to adjust the black flecks from your minimal makeup dispersing under your eye and just as you're about to smooth down the stray baby hairs that humidity has got to around your face, you see Harry appear in the mirror behind you. Your belly flipping over and over with the thrill he'd took the bait.

Wasting no time he smirks and holds your gaze, wrapping his hands around your waist whilst his lips attach to the junction of your neck and collarbone. His tongue drags over your soft skin and he licks and softly sucks swirls onto it with his plush lips.

"Hm. You're right. This is a more fun type of danger" he says between kisses but before he's even finished his sentence you've spun around in his arms.

The bottom of your spine cold against the marble countertop, arms around his neck as you smash your lips into one another's with urgency. Tongues and wet noises as you get to know one another through your bodies alone.

He runs his hands down your back and presses his hard length against your thigh. He's definitely packing you think as you lift up a little rub your pubic bone against his front, panting out a little moan as the sweet friction of your bodies colliding sends you into overdrive. Catching the noise through your parted lips he gently tugs on the bottom one, teeth grazing the supple flesh. This combined with his large palms kneading your ass and pulling you further, tighter, into the roll of his hips. Only two layers of damp clothing separate you,forcing your lips to break from his mouth and fully moan, not caring who may be around. You could not remember the last time a perfect stranger knew your body quite this well.

His own grunts were speeding up when he suddenly grabs the back of your thighs and hoists you up beside the sink, you gasp in shock but it was more the way the lean man thrusted you up there like it was nothing. What else could he do? You expect him to go back to kissing you but instead he pulls back with his rock hard erection outlined in the wet shorts he still has on. Looking at you dead in the eyes both raging with lust and concern. Whilst you try not to worry how you were going to accommodate him inside your tight walls.

"Is this…? I mean, you want this too right?" his hands are resting at either side of your parted thighs. You nod. "Need you to say it Y/N" he steps forward, lips wet and brushes the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip that was now puffy and pink from the earlier biting. He knew you were down to fuck, but now he wanted to test your preferences. What kind of fun you were about to have shall we say. So when you lick his thumb tip, holding his fist still and grazing your wet tongue up and down from knuckle to tip before closing your eyes and humming around the entire digit, he knew you were both in for a good time.

Removing the thumb he whispers a barely audible "fuck me" before smashing your lips back together, tongues massaging together as he peels your underwear to the side with his hand swiftly and presses digit you'd lubricated with your mouth against your clit, moving it fast from side to side with just the right amount of pressure to make your head spin. Gasping, you throw your head back, hands clasped around his neck as you lean back and feel yourself start to leak a little with arousal. The few spots dripping down on to the counter.

You could say it had been a while but really this guy was moving his way round your body in the same way you tune a guitar in key. Calloused fingers applying the right amount of pressure as you felt yourself start to get to the edge already. He was kissing down the front if your chest, between your breasts, not missing a beat when he pushed both triangles of your bikini aside and you moaned loudly as he kissed and sucked hard around your nipple, tentatively pulling it between his teeth firmly, the sound you let out made him clamp a little harder before sucking in the whole nipple again, soothing the skin his tongue. Most likely leaving a mark behind, but you kind of liked the idea of proof he'd been devouring you in all honesty.

You were becoming blissed out from all the stimulation. Clenching and moving your hips around nothing but this magical thumb working your clit up and down hard. You were overcome with this whole situation playing out the way it had. You broke away from his mouth again.

"Oh fuck.. Harry, I'm… FuckFuck I'm going to come, I'm gonna fucking… Ahhh" he pulled back one arm steadying you as your head hit the mirror behind you in your release. He just watched you and slowed his thumb down watching as the liquid cascaded onto the counter.

After you'd come down you open your eyes and shyly smiled before kissing him passionately, his hands moving around your waist tightly. You moved your hand to his shorts, teasingly grazing the outline of his cock between your fingers in hopes of repaying the favour. He does a single throaty laugh and removes your hand, holding himself against his thigh. You look at him in confusion when he splutters,

"Sorry, sorry its just I'm going t'blow my load if you touch me." then he's back on your lips "Too. Fucking. Sexy" he says between wet kisses to your jaw, neck and clavicle. "Wanted to do this since I first set eyes on you" one hand is on the back of his neck twisting nape curls between your fist whilst the other rests behind you, stopping you from hitting your head on the mirror again.

"Oh yeah? Before or after I ruined your clothes?" you laugh teasingly as he slides his hands around your back to finally remove the bikini top properly, lifting it up over your head and tossing it aside somewhere on the floor. He let's a laugh out himself completely entranced still by how natural you are around him, it was often hard to connect with strangers in his position.

"I'd spotted you walking in, was trying to open the door for you m'love" he says before sucking a red mark into your breast and massaging and pulling the other nipple slightly with his hand.

You struggle through sharp intakes of breath for a reply.

"Well….ah...that's what chivalry.. Oh.. Get's you these days I guess" and you're both laughing a little.

"Hmm. Have to try harder with my manners then won't I? I mean, I've got to clear up the mess I've made here" he cups his hand against your pussy rubbing it up and down a little with his palm. You let out a guttural noise at the friction. "Ladies first and all'tha too right?" he giggles again at himself.

You're practically cumming right then, you couldn't remember the last time someone actually went down on you. Your previous boyfriend not particularly into offering you foreplay. A main point of why he didn't stick around too long.

Harry kisses down your abdomen now, soft sloppy, sensual pecks, humming into your skin every so often in appreciation as he works at removing your soaked bikini bottoms with his hands, pushing them down to your knees before you help, letting them fall from the remaining ankle to the ground.

Harry is moving far too slow for you, kissing across each hip down to the top of your slit, breathing over where you desperately need him before paying the other side the same attention. Then he's licking up each crease where your thigh meets your pelvis.

"Y/N, just.. Just turn, that's it and lean back as far as you can there, shuffle forward until can't balance anymore" you shift your ass as forward as possible on the lip of the sink and prop yourself up on your elbows trying to be as flat as possible on the cold counter as you could, your toes behind the sink with one foot the other dangling over the edge. You keep you thighs open as Harry hunches over the counter where you now lay diagonal. He places his arms under your thighs and bends your legs flat out as he can stretch you, you're expecting some more teasing but he just looks down at your pussy licking over his lips and almost whining before burying his tongue inside you immediately. The force of his tongue lapping up your previous climax causes you once again to knock the side of your head against the mirrored wall. You turn and watch the scene almost as a spectator, witnessing yourself bare to this beautiful man, curly brown hair between your fists and making sounds like he's savouring every taste. He catches you watching before taking his mouth off you, immediately, you're whining in protest.

"Watch my eyes not my reflection baby, I'm right here"

His authoritative tone eclipsing every thought you had about the casual nickname, you stared down at the wonderful site of him lapping and suckling on your clit. Pointed tongue and firm laps against the swollen button. He then starts lapping up at your glistening hole,unhooking an arm to spread your lips open between his fingers and licking right from the bottom to the top with all the sloppy wet noises involved. He was feeling you contract as he locked faster and faster over you. His tongue deserved an award never mind his music. You couldn't believe you were on the brink of a second orgasm so quickly but when he sunk his middle finger into you at the same pace his tongue was working at, you were screaming his name into the extractor fan above before you knew it. You felt waves of liquid cascade from your pussy as he gently lapped up the produce of his work from you. You flinched in overstimulation but he cleaned up every last drop tenderly before carefully closing your legs and pivoting you round to your previous sitting up position on the counter. Neither of you had spoken a word since you came but as he leads your arms to drape over your shoulders, holding your fucked out body against his chest whilst peppering your temple with soft pecks . Then he kisses you intensely, letting you taste the sweet juices of yourself on his lips. You hummed in approval of the sweet taste as you came round.

A few minutes of carnal making out and things were heating up again. Your hands cupping his jaw then sliding to graze fingernails up and down his back, digging them in a little harder now and again and causing goosebumps to pierce through the skin rapidly under your touch.

You could feel him swallowing down grunts from the friction he was getting from his shorts covered cock brushing up and down between your slick folds.

He'd made you cum twice. Hard. He always got off of making his partners cum of course, so he was feeling beyond turned on and the slight heat of your glistening folds against his length was almostvsending him over the edge.

"I want you inside me" you whispered against his lips desperately.

No sooner had you said the words, his left hand was frantically searching through the vanities top drawer in hope. Finding a packet, checking the date quickly then tearing it between his teeth, spitting the seal onto the floor and pushing his shorts to his ankles, stepping out of them at speed before kicking them away.

He smirked when he caught your eyes bulge at his cock. He knew it was above average but the reaction was always a further compliment he thought.

Stepping forward he put on a show of putting the condom on, first rubbing the drops of sticky pre cum at the head and down his length keeping his eyes locked to yours as you wriggled on the counter with anticipation. He whined a little as it squeezed him rolling it on, so red and over sensitive from turning you on. So that's why, when you grabbed for it, he stilled your hand. Dimples appearing back in his cheeks as you looked again in confusion. He kisses you, languishing the moment before grabbing you forward from the countertop to the floor again, still keeping your lips attached. He lightly grips at your hips and turns you round to face the mirror once more.

Harry lightly grabs your throat, and the way you whimper and push your ass back against him, makes him mentally bank that idea for later perhaps. He runs his left hand up the column of your neck lightly holding your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him with his hand on your face and the other already working up and down your folds.

"I want you to watch us. Want you to watch yourself come apart. Want to watch you cum around my cock yeah? " he whispers in your ear. You noticeably shiver with excitement of what's to come.

"Please Harry, please, need it, need you."

You watch yourself babble and beg for his cock. The pathetic whimper from yourself as you try and circle your ass into his crotch again to encourage it happening. You were never patient and he's driving you insane here.

Bringing two fingers infront of your lips as you watch yourself in the mirror he looks you dead in the eye through the reflection.

"Spit" so you do, "good girl" he says kissing your cheek. His saliva lubed fingers are back rubbing your clit quickly whilst his knee nudges the back of yours to spread your feet wider as he kisses the back of your neck and shoulders. When he pauses next you're not expecting the hard thrust of him entering you entirely, sure you were dripping wet with the result of two orgasms but you cry out in a mix of stretch and pleasure as he pounds into you at a furious pace. His spare hand not on your clit is holding the bottom of your spine down as he keeps up his rhythm. His pace was that of a man desperate for release after watching you fall apart on his fingers and tongue. The build up meant he was already close as you tight walls fluttered around him. He pleads with you to stop tightening your walls around him or he's not going to last he whimpers.

You were already close again, you'd never cum this many times or this quickly in your life but you were ready for another round and by the sounds of him and the stutter his pace kept slipping you knew he was close too.

You quickly removed his hand, sucking your own fingers into your mouth to replace his own at your clit.

"M'gonna cum, but… OhOh fuck.. But need you harder. Deeper" you manage to get out.

He grunts a curse before squeezing your hips at a pressure that will leave marks tomorrow but the delight in the speed he was now able to snap his hips against the swells of your ass, was well worth it. It only took a few more seconds with the fingers that knew you best, for you to gush against his cock. Feeling absolutely exhausted you slump your sweaty chest onto the cold counter.

His orgasm taking him by surprise when you clenched up to milk him dry. He all but shouts your name as his hips stutter and you feel the warmth of his cum fill the one barrier between you.

His lips were back on your sweaty neck for a second whilst he disposed of the used condom. He ran the walk in shower and wordlessly you took his offered hand to join him under the hot spray. You'd never had an encounter end like this before not that you were a seasoned professional but after 3 orgasms the way his hands moved round your body under the water, washing away your antics with sweet strawberry-banana smelling suds on the flannel, left you with a warm floaty feeling the worn off alcohol never had.

He gently wipes your makeup from under your eyes then, smiling at the cute way your nose wrinkles slightly as he rubs at each eyebrow.

"I don't even have words" you finally laugh out blushing, not able to stand his gauge as you say it.

"Oh. So that's how to make that smart mouth o'yours stop is it? " he grins, you gasp in mock offense and go to say something but going under your chin with his thumb with his forefinger to connect your lips under the warm water spray he kisses you when you pull away you can't help but ask.

"So does this make us even on one ruined fancy vest then?"

"Hmmmm" he ponders with both hands on your face looking at the ceiling out if the falling water. " I'm not sure, I mean it was a custom, pretty high going rate those yeah"

"Yeahhhh you're right, you're right. Better factor in the cost of the custom job then hadn't I huh?"

You hurriedly sink to your knees on the tiled floor.