#i will be continuing that stoned phone call ask sometime this week

[melkintoyou]

thinking about arguing with mark over text and him just showing up outside your house with a text saying “ok come let me in then” and you would run to the door half panicking bc it’s the middle of the night and you didn’t expect things to get this heated?

he would fully not even have one foot in the house before he’s trying to kiss you and you’d push him away. “I’m still mad at you” you’d say holding back a smile at his sweet gesture.

“clearly not mad enough to not let me in, gimme a kiss babe” he would try to lighten the mood.

“ok I’m sorry, I know I should’ve planned my time better and not double booked myself but I’m here… baby.. I’m sorry” he’d look at you with his big doe eyes, trying to grab your waist so he can hold you in an embrace. he’d cling to your body and follow you around the house and up the stairs, into your room.

“mark, look.. I understand we get busy but you have got to let me know your schedule on the days we agree to see each other. a commitment is a commitment and you ca-“

he wouldn’t even let you finish your sentence before his lips would come crashing down on yours, knocking the wind out of your lungs. you’d try your best to keep a stern tone but his grip on you would tighten, kisses would travel down from your lips to your jaw, to your neck..

“Yo! Fuck you for thinking I’m just gonna stop being mad if you come over tryna act all cute. You piss me off!” you’d push him back lightly, trying your best not to melt to his touch. and it would work too until your eyes would meet his. all you would see is his lips slowly curl into a smile, before he takes his bottom lip into his mouth.

walking towards you slowly, he’d stand behind you and move your hair to one side. leaving kisses down the back of your neck, he’d whisper in your ear, “you’re kinda sexy when you’re mad” he’d snake his arm from your shoulder to your neck and give it a light, gentle squeeze and you’d feel your underwear slowly dampen as you try to hold it together. he’d chuckle, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. he’d let his other hand travel from your nipples to slip into your shorts.

his long fingers, with rings still on from his schedule earlier, would find their way in between your folds to gather up all the slick just to bring it up to your clit. “Mar..k” you’d whimper his name, falling weak to his touch.

running slow circles, he’d ask “nah.. please continue all the shit you were talking earlier”

[unhingedgirlythings]

FUCK IT

SUMMERY : Reader gets her date interrupted when Hotch calls up asking for her to get to the BAU. Reader rushes over still dressed up and a certain dr can’t keep her eyes off her teehee.

Tags:fem reader , a huge amount of awkwardness, reader is over her love life

A/N: I WANTED AWKWARD SPENCER REID, bare with me tho cuz I haven’t written a fanfic since I was 13 and it was horrible so please be kind and let me know your thoughts :))) enjoyyy.

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You were used to your phone ringing at the WORST possible times, I mean with your job that was something you just had to prepare yourself for. Serial killers don’t take a break just so you can have a girls night out or take a nice relaxing bath after a long day. Although never in your life did you imagine the wave of relief that would wash over you as the all too familiar ringtone blared from your phone. Normally you would groan and feel your body grow more exhausted whilst hesitantly picking up the phone, but not tonight. Nope. Fortunately for hotch, you couldn’t have answered the phone faster. “what’s up” low and behold hotch was on the other end requesting your presence ASAP!

You tried to hide your glee as you glanced over at the douche-ist blind date that the great quote on quote “matchmaker” of the century Garcia, had raved on about the week before. To be fair the date didn’t start off bad, it was actually the most decent one you’ve had yet. Honestly you were ready to finally praise Penelope for actually finding you a decent man to take your mind off the unrequited school girl crush that you had on a certain “kid” genius. somehow you escaped the dude who clearly was stuck in some frat boy mindset, well not without some snarky comment made towards you which you shut down a little harsher then needed but seriously you couldn’t hold back anymore, you had no idea what possessed Penelope into thinking you would EVER consider going home with the king of fucking douchebags (most likely the biceps and tight clothing that the man sported). Nevertheless here you were speeding down the freeway, thinking way too hard about your love life completely blanking and forgetting to drop by your apartment to quickly change into something more work appropriate.

Before you knew it you’ve parked your car, walking into the cold air. A shiver runs down your body and the shock hits you when you realize. Here you are in a little skimpy black dress that clings to your curves in “just the right way” according to Penelope before shoving you out into your car heading to that horrible excuse of a date, “ahh shit. Fucken seriously! Of course this is just my luck … I mean at least I look good” groaning and mumbling to yourself, you make your way into the building. You knew Hotch would be understanding, I mean you never know when you’re gonna be called in and it sounded urgent so yeah, sometimes you and your coworkers walk in with inappropriate work wear. You will never forget the time he called everyone in at god knows what time, Spencer had walked into the room with his pjs sporting a fluffy dress robe, you seriously thought someone was going to have to perform cpr on you that night.

Walking into the building in heels was definitely a pain in your ass, but you managed as you pushed the briefing room door open. A low wolf whistle from Derek Morgan was the last thing you needed right now “damn sweetheart, who knew you could clean up so nicely“ As you make your way into the room, you playfully roll your eyes at him.“haha very funny” you cringed as everyone’s attention was now drawn to you. while taking a seat next to JJ, wishing to be wearing literally anything else “Sorry Hotch, i came straight from..” you hesitate for a second, glancing around before continuing “A date, but this sounded important so I didn’t have time to change”The stoned faced man simply nods at you “It’s fine. You're here, right now we have a lot to cover” He starts debriefing the team, leaving no detail out of the case, no matter how brutal, you tried your hardest to give him your unwavering attention, but you could feel someone’s eyes on you. And out of the corner of your eye see him. Spencer.

His stare was hot and intense, and fuck was it making you become a flustered mess. You glanced at him from your peripheral trying your best to be subtle about it, it was getting harder and harder to focus on Hotch and the case, not Reid. But when his puppy dog eyes drifted up, down and all over your body, your body involuntarily reacted, slightly squirming in your seat. Before you could stop yourself, your eyes turn and lock onto his gorgeous brown ones, a smirk graces your lips as he finally notices your eyes now on him. Looking like a kid being caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he turns pink from the embarrassment and shame of being caught, and god did that make your head spin. Now it was his turn to awkwardly squirm in his seat while staring at Hotch with all his attention. You giggle under your breath at his fumbling awkwardness. Before you know it everyone around you starts to pack up their things and stand up, leaving you confused. Of course you spent the whole debriefing paying so little attention to the case and more on Spencer.

Sighing, you pull the hem of your dress down as you stand trying to save yourself from even more embarrassment. “soooo how did it go? Was he as yummy as you’d hoped?” Garcia wraps her arms around yours as you try not to stumble down the stairs towards your desk “you, my love are officially banned from meddling in my love life” you could already hear the trail of complaints bouncing around in her head as you plopped down onto your desk chair, reaching for the new case folder hoping to catch yourself up before take off in the morning “aww come on I for sure thought you’d be jumping his bones, all those rippling muscles, who In Their right mind could resist” the thought of the man you had seen a few hours prior put a foul taste in your mouth, causing your face to scrunch up in disgust “he was a complete dick, he legit referred to himself as an “alpha male” AN ALPHA ,Only thing I wanted to jump , was off a building at that point” a defeated look from her was all the conformation you needed, no longer were you going on blind dates, and your love life was back to being non existent and sad “sorry Pen I tried, I really really tried, you just have horrific taste in men like my god do we need to get you some help. These guys are basically human garbage” whilst looking up your eyes naturally drift and settle on Spencers desk frowning as you watch him, his heads buried in the case file whilst obsessively jotting down notes like some multitasking god, your heart couldn’t help but pine after his more, the looks you shared moments before didn’t help your case either. Resting your chin in the palm of your hand, you drag your eyes away trying to spare yourself from going into one of your Spencer Reid spirals. You look up at Penelope already disliking the pitiful look she was giving you “are you sure your ready to give up?, I mean I know this cute guy who would be super into you, he's just your type “the new voice startled you, turning in your seat you’re met with Emily smirking down at you whilst leaning against your desk inserting herself into the conversation with JJ beside her “wow ok fun, are we all just gonna just dive head first into my personal life?, don’t we have a case to work on?” trying to deter the subject of the conversation off of you was a bust, as the women you call friends gleam down at you with a shared look “yeah no this is too entertaining to sit out on.” you couldn’t believe you were having this conversation right now, letting out a groan you leaned back in your chair covering your face in hopes of hiding the redness in your cheeks “sweetheart, what you need is a good ol one night stand, get a certain pretty boy out of your system” if you weren’t already melting into a puddle of embarrassment, you definitely were now “Morgan shut up please for the love of everything holy”

you could only pray Spencer wasn’t paying attention to the little group that was forming at your desk, maybe he was being good and reading the case file like the rest of them should be doing but of course luck wasn’t in your favor tonight “what are we talking about?” Before you could shut the whole conversation down Morgan happily answered Spencer “oh, we were just discussing Y/L/N’s love life. I think she needs a good root, what do you think?” that stupid smirk Morgan was happily wearing was enough to make your blood boil, now you truly wished to disappear “ok ok that’s enough” you shoot up from your seat avoiding any eye contact with Spencer not wanting to see his reaction to your humiliating red face “conversation over, my love life is going back to being non existent, thank you for your concern but it’s over, officially dead so no more talking about it.” you snatch the file off your desk ready to get the hell out of whatever situation you found yourself in “i'm going home to at least get some sleep before we leave tomorrow or I’ll be a zombie all day” with that you hastily made your way out of the building and into the cool night air once again.

wrapping your arms around yourself in hopes to provide some warmth, you slowly make your way to the car park. Before you could make it to your car you could hear foot steps getting closer and closer until they were right behind you, stopping along with yours once you had reached front of your car. Quickly spinning around you slam them onto the car's hood, arm in your hand, face down and pinned.

“Ow ow ow ow Ow!” Shit. It was Spencer. The man you’ve been daydreaming about and here you were pinning him to the hood of your car. “oh shit sorry, my god, don’t walk up on me like that holy shit Spence you scared me” you pull away off him whilst letting go of his arm and backing away a little. Spencer lets out a hiss of pain as he pushes himself off the hood, rubbing his arm to try and relieve the pain “sorry I was just trying to make sure you got to your car safely. It’s late a-and” he looks at your dress whilst clearing his throat looking away awkwardly “are you ok? you seemed upset in there” he looks back at you whilst giving you a smile that made you wanna pass away on the spot “yeah I’m ok, just having your dating life put on full blast in front of the team like that can be a tad embarrassing” silence was the only response you were met with, you glance up at Spencer trying to think of something, anything to say in this moment “you look really nice by the way, it’s unfortunate your date turned out that way.” His eyes meet yours, your breath gets caught in your throat as heat creeps up your neck to your face “t-thanks” tugging on the hem of your dress you smile sheepishly “not the most comfortable outfit, honestly wish Pen let me wear my sweater but you know”

“Penelope” you both say, you giggle as Spencer chuckles. “Oh by the way, I thought you may want these, may help a little tomorrow” he hands you the notes he took from the briefing, Your fingertips brush against his, the feeling of warmth from his hands sends a shiver down your spine. “Thanks Spence. I appreciate it” you stand there longer than needed before you start to turn away from him. “You know, that even though there aren't any hard statistics, it’s roughly estimated that every 1 in 3 or 4 blind dates actually end up as a success” he rambles on, looking back at him you try to pay attention but you can’t stop your eyes from sifting down towards his lips “so there is a chance” his voice fades away as his words become background noise and your thoughts become louder and louder, all you could think about was him, the feeling of wanting only grew stronger with each passing minute. It didn’t help that his lips were tempting you, calling you in. you couldn’t hold yourself back much longer, will power growing weaker and weaker “fuck it” your body moves before commen sense had its time to put a stop to whatever ridiculous thoughts you had muster up, suddenly your lips press onto his without thinking it through. It was short and one sided yet sweet, the faint taste of coffee and sugar overwhelmed your senses

The sudden realization hits you hard as you push yourself off Reid, the feelings of regret and fear settles itself in your stomach making you feel sick “Sorry I wasn’t thinking, shit sorry, forget that happened ok” you back away keeping your eyes glued to the ground in fear that you’ll look up and only see rejection written on his face. What in the hell possessed you to do that?, why the fuck did you do that, the only reason you kept your feelings shoved down was to protect your friendship with Spencer, nothing meant more to you then the bond you both shared and now you’ve ruined it and for what? A stupid kiss? “wait, uh No no it was just unexpected I didn’t hate it actually quite the opposite” your head snaps back up at a red faced flustered Spencer Reid “don't apologize“ his warm hands warp around your cold ones as he steps closer to you once again “did you um maybe want to try that again? Only if you want to though I don’t want you to regret anything” you giggle as he starts to nervously stumble over his words, this time more confident in your actions your lips find his for the second time tonight.

The taste of coffee meets your lips again as your body relaxes into the kiss, which is very reciprocated this time. The warmth radiating from Spencer chases the cold night air away. As your bodies shuffle closer together. you both hesitantly pull away from each, you wanted to stay here in this moment for as long as possible but of course your bed was calling your name along with the early flight departure. “I should go” you really didn’t want to “I know“ his hands stayed on your waist for a moment before slipping away “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow” the sweet look on his face drove you crazy, the urge to say fuck it and stay with him for the remainder of the night was overpowered by the sleepless night before, you settle for placing a goodnight kiss on his cheek instead “night Spence” winking you open your car door and make your way in, you turn the car on and roll the window down to call out to him as he backs away with a smug smirk on his face “sweet dreams pretty boy” with that you drive away replaying the events of tonight in your mind, god you couldn’t wait to get the case over with so you could finally have a date that wasn’t going to end in ruins, especially with the man you’ve been crushing on since your first day, yeah no you weren’t going to get any sleep tonight now.

[thebugcollector2]

Stoned with Dallas Winston

“Last dance with Mary Jane, one more time to kill the pain” (Mary Jane's Last Dance by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers)

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Summary: in which you are a hippie and sometimes get high with your good friend Dallas Winston (fluff)

Warnings: smoking, weed, mentions of drinking

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Most of the time, Dallas Winston preferred getting completely pissed drunk rather than a universal high. He often would go to parties, slamming drink after drink, only to find himself next to a random broad the morning after. 

Now Dallas did enjoy it, don’t let it be mistaken. Though, every once in a while he would find himself longing for the feeling of hot smoke burning his throat until his mind went fogged. 

So, once every few weeks you would get a call from Dally. His voice was alway rasped and gruff over the phone and it made your head spin. He knew you always had pot and that you were always looking for someone to get high with. It always went the same. You guys would spend the entire evening together, and on the rare occasion the night as well. Nothing out of pocket would be done between the two of you, at the most your shoulders brushing against each other if you sat too close, but never anything more.

You were sitting on Dallas’ bed, back against the wall with your knees hugged against your chest. He sat next to you, red eyed with a hidden smirk on his lips. You guys had been together for about four hours and in that time frame, two joints had been smoked and a pack of cigarettes as well. 

“Dallas,” you turned your head to look at him, a lopsided grin plastered on your lips as you spoke “what’s your zodiac sign?” 

Dally’s chest hummed as he stiffed a laugh, “Jesus Christ, man, you’re always asking dumb shit,” he shook his head and took a hit of his cigarette, “I don’t know doll, born in November so whatever that means.”

Doll, your smile widened at the nickname and that didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

You shrugged and looked away “I believe in ‘em,” you rested your chin on the top of your knees. “I think it’s all real interesting when you look into it,” you rambled, not even really processing what you were saying. “I like the stars and moon phases and all that,”

“I know ya do, doll.” He watched as you fell quiet. You reached for the pack of cigarettes that was to your right and lit one. Dallas would never say it out loud, but he always felt a sense of admiration towards you. He had never met someone in Tulas who was so entrancing and calm. You held a peace about you and that was rare for people that hung around him. Dallas watched as the smoke from your cigarette drizzled slowly from your mouth. “November ninth,” he broke the silence and smirked as he watched a wide grin form on your face. 

“Scorpio,” you murmured as you glanced his way. “Very loyal and uh,” you squinted at him as you fell deep in thought, “protective and intense too.” 

A deep chuckle came from him. “Hope that’s a good thing,” he inhaled his cigarette deeply. 

“I think so,” you always found yourself unable to hide your smile when you were with Dallas. It made your face feel numb from it. You’d blame it on the weed, but deep down you knew it was because of him.

“What ‘bout you,” Dallas gestured towards you as he spoke, “what’s your sign, or whatever” he mumbled. Normally he would have left the conversation silent, using the time to fall deep in thought. Though, for some reason he couldn’t explain, he wanted to listen and watch you keep talking. 

“Pisces.” you sighed and hit your cigarette before you continued on. “I would say we feel things very deeply, kinda like um, like a deep emotional connection to the universe.” Dallas noticed how your voice went soft and how your gaze formed a gentle look. “Also very creative but a bit impulsive.” 

Dallas also wanted to blame the weed for the thought, but he thought at that moment he had never seen anyone look so beautiful.

[anothertimdrakestan]

Damian x reader where she is having a bad day and he comforts her! A lot of kisses and cuddles and Damian being a low key flirt! Please and thank u!

Promise - Damian Wayne x Reader

"Y/N! you will never believe what Penguin tried today at the charity luncheon! Amid the chicken fingers too! It was quite a hilarious event and- oh. Oh shit. What's wrong?" the hero had easily flitted through your window like a leaf on the cold breeze- a chill which had been blowing into your room for almost two, frozen hours.

"Hey Dames. I'm fine, what happened with Penguin?" you muttered, pushing hair behind your ear to look up at the shocked man in front of you. You quickly wiped away at running mascara, frustrated you even let your emotions get the better of you tonight.

Damian didn't reply, instead he firmly shut your window behind him with one hand, his eyes not leaving your curled figure buried in a corner of your bed. Next he backed up to your closet, continuing to analyze your every move while he changed out of his Batman suit, a new suit that was truly meant for him, into sweats you kept for him a one of your drawers.

You felt the bed dip and Damian was sat at the edge staring at you as if you were going to get up and run away.

You were still curled in a ball, knees to your chest and head resting on your arms as you grumbled, "I asked what happened with Penguin" and Damian gave you a slight frown, "what happened with you?"

"Rude"

"You've been crying"

"Have not"

"So pretty even when lying to me" he mumbled, sliding into place next to you, draping a long arm around you to pull you into his chest. You huffed in response, but it was more an excuse to inhale the smell of dry cedar, vanilla, and just a hint of sweat- overwhelmingly perfect (for my connoisseurs I'm talking ORMAIE Toï Toï Toï).

Giving into your silence he pulled out his phone, pulling up footage clearly from the day's events. You watched Penguin try to steal a highly expensive painting being auctioned, but before he could get away, Damian was bounding towards the thief, using Penguin's own henchmen's heads as stepping stones. They fell almost like bowling pins as your hero flipped and spun through the air, Penguin kept trying to shoot at the blur but Damian just had the villain spinning in circles until he too collapsed without Damian even having to lift a finger.

"Dick would be soooo proud" you giggled leaning your head up to look at Damian who was grinning proudly at the film himself.

"There's that smile. And yeah, I already sent it to him! He says he's gonna try the same move next week." Damian mused, tucking the phone back into his pocket, his arm still draped around you as he mindlessly tapped his fingers on your side.

You realized he wasn't going to drop it so you broke the silence, "I just had a bad day Dames, nothing to it, it happens."

"You know I would literally kill anyone who hurt yo-"

"I know Dames, I know. But this wasn't really anyones fault, I just get in my own head sometimes." you huffed, actually relaxing after getting the thoughts off your chest.

He tapped your skill with a frown, "well, then let the people in there know I'm coming for them next."

"You're coming for my thoughts?" you snorted.

"If that's what is takes to make you happy, I'll call Zatanna we can magic school bus this shit or something-" Damian was joking, but you appreciated the sentiment.

"Sometimes you've just gotta be a little sad D, I'll be okay,"

"Promise?"

"With you by my side? I could never be upset for long, I promise."

"That's what I like to hear!"

"I could totally use some pizza though, you know, to cure me"

"For you, Beloved, the world" your hero responded, pulling out his phone to order your favorites, clearly excited just to spend time with you. Seriously though, with him around it was impossible to be upset for long.

"You know I love you, Damian Wayne."

"I sure hope so, no other heroes better be coming through your window at night!" he teased back, pressing a kiss to your forehead while you shook your head with a laugh, feeling the pressure and weight get lifted off your shoulders already.

~

Short but sweet, ty for the request!! <3

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 19/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26

Another reminder that not all chapters are happening in continuous days. Sometimes a week or a month go by but I'm not gonna say that every chapter lajsdlajl

We are channeling our inner Lucifer who has no concept of time and feeling like the days are blending in with one another.

A short but SIGNIFICANT chapter

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Lucifer had never opened a portal so fast in his life. Hearing those outrageous words from Nifty made him sprung into action, not even caring that he's leaving Adam behind. He's pretty sure the guy will be fine even if he is bound within palace walls.

Maybe he should've asked Nifty to elaborate more because what the fuck does 'the sky is falling' mean?? But his daughter could be in danger so he'll figure it out there.

It was Charlie who calls for him as soon as he arrives.

Charlie: Dad!

Lucifer: Char-char! What's going on? I'm so sorry. Adam and I were busy and I put a ward on the palace and my phone was silent and why is Nifty saying the sky is falling?? Charlie-

Charlie: Dad! Just- come with me outside!

She all but drags him by the arm out the hotel doors to a sight he never thought he'd witness outside of Earth.

Lucifer: Wha- What in the unholy hell?

He feels breathless. It's horrifying but also.... so captivating.

From the heavens above, a cascade of meteors descended, their fiery tails of gold painting the skies of Hell. Each impact further damaged and eventually destroying the Pentagram barrier.

Screams ensue the moment the first meteor hits one part of Pride. Following that are continuous deafening crashes, the meteors struck with indiscriminate force, wreaking havoc on his denizens. Glass shattered, concrete crumbled, and chaos ensued as residents fled for safety, their once familiar surroundings now transformed into a scene of destruction.

One meteor veered off course, hurtling straight towards the hotel. Lucifer vaguely hears Charlie shouting for them to take cover and catches sight of Alastor putting up a shield for them.

He hears his daughter shout for him but he stays rooted in place as the object landed just a stone's throw away from where he stands.

When the dust clears, he feels himself freeze as amidst the rubble lay a figure, not of space rock, but an angel, a dead low ranking angel.

Now grounded in Hell and no longer have its majesty. It is mangled, burned, and broken.

Fallen.

Lucifer cannot speak as he keeps staring at the crumpled figure in front of him. Its once luminous wings now tattered and singed. He knows he should do something but what? His people are terrified and his city is getting the brunt of the mass Fall.

The King of Hell doesn't move when Charlie and the other sinners run to his side. He senses them freezing and someone vomiting (probably Vaggie-he can understand) because of the body. The angel bodywhatthe fuck-

Charlie: Vaggie! Dad!... why-what- is that an angel?!

Angel: Move, Vagina, I think I'm gonna be sick too.

Cherri: Way ahead of ya, Angie.

Husk is rubbing circles on Angel's back as the spider pukes out the his lunch. He wants to comfort Angel fully but he's all too distracted by the dead angel on the ground.

Alastor moves closer to poke the body, bringing his blood soaked finger to his mouth to taste.

Alastor: How peculiar....

Lucifer had barely begun to grasp the gravity of the situation when he felt something wet hit his face. He slowly reached up to the spot, fingers coming away coated in a golden substance. Confusion were written in their faces as they look back up as the liquid began to pour from the sky like rain.

His ears begun to feel like he's underwater- screams and choking sounds echoed throughout his city as the thick gold coats every single corner of Pride.

'No.'

He whispered, the realization hitting him like a delayed blow. As the metallic scent finally reached his nose, he collapsed to all fours, unable to stop his own gagging. He knew what this was, but he refuse to believe it.

'This can't be real.'

He could sense Vaggie in a similar state nearby, both of them struggling to breathe and think because this is angel blood.

Lucifer falls face first on the wet ground that's shimmering gold to the endless distance. He passes out from the smell before he knows it.

Heaven is falling.

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I feel like this is not what yall expected to happen as the beginning of the final arc.

A Supernatural reference? In 2024?

The blood rain is also inspired by that one quadrant in the 2nd Hunger Games movie. Because I, too, would gag and probably choke on my own vomit if I was suddenly rained on by human blood, or any blood for that matter.

We're finally getting there.

Let me know what you guys think so far!

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

violet soul

a smutty lucifer x reader fic for your enjoyment have fun <3 i feel embarrassed i was able to produce such filth :))))))

triggers warnings: dubious consent (the reader is not sober while giving consent! while they do believe they have given consent, they are not realising they're being manipulated into it!) and just like rough sex i guess haha but nothing requiring a specific trigger warning

hope you enjoy!!!

*slithers back into the void*

______________________________________________________________

You started having… dreams, recently. Very odd dreams. They feel real, way too real, and you wake covered in sweat, and the only thing you are able to think about is the dream, as if you’re still there. When you manage to fall asleep again, you simply continue where you left off. 

The dreams consume your waking life. You think about them constantly. Images, smells and sounds remind you of them. 

After a few weeks, you visit a therapist and complain about nightmares. She listens and nods sympathetically, and then she asks what the dreams are about. You open your mouth to tell her and find that you can’t. 

“They aren’t about anything, really. They are just… vivid,” you say, feeling embarrassed because of course you know what they’re about. If only you could remember right now. 

She looks at you with confusion in her eyes. “It’s okay, you can tell me,” she says gently. 

You wish you could, but you don’t know. You spend the rest of the session talking about things that don’t matter.

Later, you leave her office with a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach. You feel like a woman possessed. 

The second you leave her office you remember the dreams again. 

In your dreams, you wonder aimlessly through a very dark place. Nothing happens, really, but it’s scary. Everything is so vivid, so lifelike. You feel the cold stone underneath your feet, the unbearable heat in the air that makes it hard to breathe, the smell of something rotten, something burning. You can never find your way out. Sometimes, you catch glimpses of… creatures. You always make it a point to avoid them. They pay no attention to you anyhow, but they are disturbing to look at, their faces contorted, deformed, burned, melted. Some have teeth like wild animals, some have no faces at all. You couldn't describe them in detail, really, you never stare. You always feel like there is someone watching you, but when you turn, there is no one around. 

The therapy session feels like a defeat and you call a friend to complain. They are sympathetic. You talk for a while, and you feel better — finally, someone understands you. Maybe you aren’t crazy after all. 

Then she asks you what the dreams are about. You open your mouth and nothing comes out. Your voice is gone. 

“Hello? Do you hear me?” your friend asks. You stare at your phone.

“I’m here,” you say, your voice miraculously returning. ���My mom is calling me. I’ll call you later, okay?”

You hang up. You call your mom and another friend. You cannot tell any of them about the nightmares. Either your voice disappears, or you can’t remember a single thing about the dreams. The concern and disbelief in their voices make your stomach churn. You know they don’t believe you. You feel crazy. 

It’s evening already and you are so tired. You have run out of people to call and you’re not sure you’d even want to call anyone anymore. You feel on edge, weeks of poor sleep making you paranoid. You start wondering whether all of this is another nightmare. You try pinching yourself to wake up. It doesn’t work. You curl up on the sofa and turn on the TV, turning the channel to something mindless. 

You don’t notice when you fall asleep.

You are in that place again. A sickly sweet smell of something rotten is filling the air. The dark corridor you find yourself in is long and narrow, lit by torches that cast an orange glow onto the dark stone around you. There are doors all throughout it. You turn around. The corridor seems to be never-ending on both sides. You suppose there is no difference which direction you take, then. As soon as you start walking you see the door in front of you open and a black demon with no face steps onto the corridor. You scream and run in the opposite direction. You hear no footsteps behind you and you know it isn’t following you — they never do — but you can’t make yourself stop running. You run and you run and you run through the never-ending corridor. It’s hard to breathe, the air is so hot and it’s stuffy and you’re feeling dizzy and you hear your heartbeat in your ears, but you never stop. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been running when you find yourself at the end of the corridor. There is a grand door in front of you. Without thinking you try to open it, and it’s so heavy you have to use your entire body weight to push it. 

As you open the door, you find that the air is suddenly lighter. The rotten smell is no longer there, and instead it smells faintly of violets. Violets are your favourite flowers. You inhale deeply, relieved you can finally breathe.

The place you find yourself in is enormous, lit by torches. The ceiling is so high you aren’t sure you can see all the way up to it. You could look around for hours and still not be able to take it all in. As you observe the enormous hall, your eyes catch a glimpse a tall, dark figure standing a few feet away from you. It has huge, black wings. You wonder how you didn’t notice it immediately upon entering. The figure is looking at you. 

You know that’s the Devil. For some reason, you aren’t surprised. 

Somehow, you are now standing next to each other. 

The Devil is beautiful, you think, with their cherubic face and bouncy white curls that seem so soft, almost angelic, and you have to fight the urge run your fingers through them. 

The Devil is tall, so tall. Their stature is elegant, feminine. You admire their broad shoulders, the gentle curve of their breasts underneath their silken red robe, their imposing, black wings.

What really pulls you in are the eyes. It’s not that they’re a lovely cerulean blue, so deep you might get lost in them, it’s that they are looking at your very soul. 

They are the first to speak. 

“Finally, we meet officially, little lamb.”

Their voice sounds like the sweetest sin, silky and smooth and melodious. You find yourself enamoured with it. 

“Are you behind my nightmares?” you ask. 

“How pleasant your stay here is is entirely up to you,” they say and cock their head. 

“What do you mean, my stay here? This is a dream. I am still at home, in my bed,” you say, confused. 

“Not quite. You could be, if you so wished. But you wished to be here, didn’t you?” The corner of their lip curls slightly, as if they find all of this amusing. 

“I haven’t slept in weeks, and you tell me that’s by my own volition? That I wished to be here?” 

You can’t believe your ears.

“Think, little lamb,” they say, their voice sickly sweet. “You have called for me, don’t you remember? You said you were lonely.”

Dread fills you when you realise you do remember. It was a joke, a drunken escapade. You were out with your friends, drinking. You went into the woods. The moon was full. You were, as per usual, the clown of the group, making everyone laugh, complaining how you were the only one without a girlfriend. You climbed onto an old log, and proclaimed, “I would sell my soul to the Devil for a girlfriend! Fuck, I am so lonely!” and you laughed, and everyone laughed. They teased you, saying you surely don’t mean it, and you said, “of course I mean it,” and you spun around, took a swig of the cheap wine you brought along, and called upon the Devil three more times. 

“Tell the Devil I mean it”, you said, “tell her I’d fuck her if she would have me, I am so fucking horny,” and you laughed and everyone laughed, and you were drunk, and you don’t remember the rest of the night or how you got home. The next morning you were so hungover you barely remembered anything that happened. 

Until now. 

“Loneliness is a demon that eats at people. I would know,” they chuckle, the sweetest sound. “Especially humans… Humans crave connection, they simply long for it. And you are lonely,  my sweet little dove, I can feel it.”

“I—” you started, but they interrupt you. 

“Don’t worry, lamb, I am here to help you. That’s why you’ve asked for me, haven’t you?”

You want to tell them you didn’t ask for this, it was a mistake, you didn’t really mean it, you were drunk, you take it back—

Their silky voice cuts through your thoughts. 

“Tell me, would you like to be my friend?”

When the Devil asks you to be their friend you ought to tread carefully. 

“What happens if I refuse the Devil’s offer for friendship?” you ask.

They chuckle. They lean in, impossibly close. You are scared to death, afraid they will hurt you. You squeeze your eyes shut. You feel them in your space, around you, everywhere. Their wings flutter around you. 

They don’t lay a finger on you, however. You feel hot breath on your ear.

“I prefer Lucifer,” they whisper in your ear. You notice that Lucifer smells faintly of violets and burning wood.

“I realise you are reluctant to accept my offer for friendship. However, would you like to take a stroll with me?”

You open your eyes and see them towering over you. A shiver runs down your spine.

You are still unsure. 

“You don’t have to, of course,” Lucifer says, “but it will probably be a while before you wake. Might as well kill the time.”

They do have a point, you think. 

“I guess we can take a stroll,” you say and they grin at you. It’s a dangerous sort of smile. You find it incredibly charming. 

They offer you their arm to lean on. After a second of consideration, you take it. 

Their arm is warm, and as you link yours underneath it you immediately feel safe.

You blink, and suddenly you are in the most beautiful garden you have ever seen. Your mouth gapes open in awe. 

“Are we still in Hell?” you ask. 

“We are indeed. This is where I take my friends.”

You stay silent for a moment, taking in the beauty around you as you walk. Violets are blooming at every step. 

“How did you know violets are my favourite flower?” 

“Oh, are they? A mere coincidence,” says Lucifer and grins widely at you, flashing their white teeth.

You walk together for a while. Their strong arm is supporting you and you can’t help but be enamoured with them. Every once in a while, you feel their wing brush against your back. It sends delicious shivers down your spine. Their white curls are bouncing ever so slightly as they walk and you find yourself staring. They don’t seem to mind. The weirdest thing is, you can’t remember the last time you felt this peaceful. You find yourself thinking you could get used to this.

“Why do you want me as your friend, though?” you ask after a while, “What do you hope to gain from that?”

“Why, I hope gain a friend. And as for why I want you in particular as my friend…” they stop walking and look at you. “I do find your soul utterly captivating.”

“I must admit, I am surprised you haven’t asked what you will gain from our friendship. Don’t you wish to know?” they cock their head ever so slightly. Their piercing eyes are looking at your soul again. You feel naked. You cannot look away.

“Tell me, please,” you say.

“Think of every desire you’ve ever had. Every sinful thought that ever crossed your mind. Everything you never thought you could have. Do it.”

You do it. 

“Did you imagine it?” They take your chin in their hand. You feel your skin tingle under their fingers. They lean in, closer, closer, closer, until their nose is almost touching yours. You feel their hot breath on your lips. 

“It’s yours to have now.”

You feel dizzy. Your chest is heaving. You feel a craving, a desire you can’t name, and you can imagine the sweet gratification of its fulfilment. 

“Everything?” you ask, your voice hoarse. 

“Everything,” they say, and the hot breath that washes over your lips makes you wild. They are still holding your chin. It’s not painful but you can’t move. 

“May I… make a request then?” You are so overcome by desire that you struggle to think.

They chuckle, a puff of heat on your lips. “Greedy girl. You already made your request that night in the woods. But I will humour you. Make one more.”

You barely comprehend what they’re saying. All you feel is desire. Your eyes drift to their wings. 

“May I… touch your wings?”

You want to touch their beautiful wings so badly, but you are waiting for permission. There is a second of silence. To you, it seems like an eternity. 

Finally, they speak. 

“I said, whatever you desire. I fulfil my promises.”

They turn around slowly. You find yourself face to face with their wings. They are jet black, but you can see little veins running through them if you look closely. They seem impossibly smooth. 

You reach as far up as you can and run the back of your fingers all the way to the place where the wings grow out of their back. Lucifer shivers. 

Encouraged by that reaction you repeat the same motion again and again, then mirror it on the other wing with your other hand. Then you run your hands all along the base of their wings. 

Lucifer moans. 

The sound sends a jolt straight to your core. The wave of arousal helps you gather the courage to plant a hot kiss on their right wing. They moan again. You continue to kiss your way to the base of their wings, then all the way down along their spine until you reach the very end of it. The moans they are letting out are unholy. You fall down to your knees, your hands on their hips now. You want to continue your way down, but you are not sure if you’re allowed to. It takes an absurd amount of effort to stop. 

“Can I?” you ask, hoping, praying they will say yes. 

They turn around and look down at you. Their piercing gaze makes you dizzy, makes you want to pray to the Devil. 

They snap their fingers and suddenly you are in that grand hall from before. There is a throne there now and they are sitting on it. You are still on your knees in front of them. 

“Take what you desire,” they say.

“You may touch me here,” they touch their knee, “or here,” they move their hand upwards on their  thigh, “or there,” they slip their hand underneath their red robe. When they pull their hand out their fingers are glistening. You feel your mouth water. 

“Or even there,” they continue, their tone almost nonchalant, as they slowly, deliberately pull the robe off of their shoulders, exposing two small, perfect breasts. “Wherever you wish, my pet.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You start by kissing their leather boot. They seem to like that.

“Yes,” they say, their voice breathy, “worship me.”

And worship them you do. 

You slowly reach underneath their long red robe, running your hands over their boots and then reaching their smooth knees. You spread the robe open and kiss your way up their calves to their knees. You are moving on from their knees to their thighs, leaving a trail of hot kisses on their impossibly soft skin, when they move one of their legs up and put it over the armrest of the throne, spreading themselves in front of you. They aren’t wearing anything underneath the robe and you are met with the sight of their glistening arousal. You barely stop yourself from burying your face in those silky folds immediately — you want to kiss your way up to them, you want to savour it. 

You continue kissing their milky thighs, revelling in the way they feel under your lips. Lucifer’s breathing is getting more ragged by the second. You bite into their thigh. It feels like sin.

“Naughty thing,” they let out a breathy chuckle. “Bite me again.”

You bite their thigh again and they moan. You can’t restrain yourself anymore and you bury your face into their pussy. They grab a fistful of your hair. You suck, you lick, and there is no method to it, only lust. You are overwhelmed by how good their arousal tastes and you just want more, more, more. 

Their wings flutter around you. One of them touches your back, and you remember how much you caressing them made them moan. 

Lucifer is grinding on your face now and it’s so hot you almost don’t manage to pull away. You look up at them and say, “I want to touch your wings.”

“Go ahead, then,” they say. They are ever so slightly out of breath and their gaze is hooded and heavy. 

You climb up into their lap. With one hand you reach between their legs, running your fingers along their wetness, and with the other you start caressing one of their wings. The moan Lucifer lets out as soon as your hand touches their wing is sin itself. You start kissing their neck as you caress the wing with one hand and circle their clit with the other. You keep the motions on their clit steady, but you experiment with touching their wings, squeezing their breasts, alternating between the two, touching different spots, seeing which one makes them moan louder. What sends them over the edge is when you give their wing a hot, open mouthed kiss. They let out a high pitched moan and you feel them tense up underneath you. You continue to touch them until they push your hands away. 

Their orgasm is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever witnessed. But still, you desire more, more, more. You feel frenzied and hot all over. 

“Please,” you say, “may I request one more thing?”

“You’ve requested enough things,” they say and push you away from their lap. You fall on the floor. 

“Please, I will do anything.” 

Mistake. But you don’t care. Lust is making you lose your mind.

“Anything? Well, aren’t you a greedy little slut.”

The word sounds sinful when they say it, their gentle voice and angelic face clashing with the crudeness of it on their lips.  

They get up from the throne, silken robe closing around their legs, no longer exposing them. Their breasts are still bared. They tower above you. 

“First you get drunk, like a naughty little girl you are, then you go into the woods and call for Lucifer Morningstar, the Ruler of Hell, like they’re a servant who is here to grant your pathetic little desires.”

You are still on the floor, looking up at them. You feel like you’re about to cry, but you are also still burning with desire, the ache between your legs not waning for a second. It’s almost uncomfortable.

“And now, you ask me to touch you. Greedy, greedy girl,” they sneer. 

“However, to show you I am still interested in being your friend, I will grant your request. Get up.”

You get up as quickly as you can. You feel hot, way too hot. You feel a throb between your legs, uncomfortable, unrelenting. You wonder if that’s what happens when you fuck the Devil. 

They grab your jaw. “You like it when I do that, don’t you?”

You want to nod, but you can’t, their grip is too strong. “Yes,” you say instead.

“Let me tell you a little secret, as your friend.” They lean in. Smell of violets overwhelms you. “I like it too,” they whisper. Their hot breath on your ear almost makes you fall apart.

They let out a melodious chuckle and kiss your neck. You shiver, but you feel like you’re on fire.

“Oh, poor thing,” they coo at you. “I haven’t even started yet, and you are already falling apart. Tell me, pet, what made you think you’d be able to endure being fucked by me, hm?”

“I… didn’t think that. I didn’t think anything, I was drunk—” you say, feeling embarrassed.

“Oh, but you did, sweet lamb. You said it yourself. Tell the Devil I mean it, tell her I’d fuck her if she would have me, I am so fucking horny.” Their voice is sickeningly sweet. “Well, what if she would have you, hm? What would you do then?”

“I—I don’t know.” You can only think about the ache between your legs. 

“Hm. Well, then I shall have to fuck you and see.”

They bite into your neck. You cry out. They grab a fistful of your hair and pull you towards themselves, clashing your lips together. They forcefully slip their tongue into your mouth, claiming you, making you theirs. You can barely breathe. 

They snap their fingers and suddenly you’re naked. If this was any other scenario, you’d feel self conscious, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You are consumed by lust and you feel like you’re going crazy. 

They break the kiss. “You wanted me to touch you. Like this?” 

You gasp when they slap you. You hate yourself for liking it. 

“You like that, I know,” they say softly, “but it’s not enough. You still need more. Tell me, what would you do for more?”

“Anything.”

You’re burning. 

“Anything? Oh, I do hope you mean that.” 

They lean in and kiss the cheek they just slapped, the softest, warmest kiss that makes you tingle. It feels like heaven. They run their hands over your breasts, squeezing them with gusto, then pinch and twist your nipples forcefully, making you yelp. 

“Will you be my friend, then?” they ask sweetly, pulling you closer and squeezing your ass, making you moan.

You are too dizzy and too hot to form sentences. They spank you forcefully. You moan again, louder this time.

“Answer me.”

“Yes, yes, anything,” you say. 

They smile. It’s lecherous and it sends a shiver straight to your core.

“Finally, pet. But you have kept me waiting for far too long. I feel like some sort of punishment must be in order.” 

They snap their fingers again and you find yourself bent over their knee as they sit on their throne.

“Thirthy-three strikes. Count.”

They don’t give you even a second to process the command before they start spanking you. You lose count immediately, only aware of the delicious jolts to your core each time they spank you. 

“I said, count.” They spank you so forcefully you see stars. A single tear rolls down your cheek. “Now look what you’ve done, I have to start all over again.” 

They start spanking you again, and this time you count. It gets harder towards the end, and you can't stop yourself from crying. Your pussy is throbbing with need— you’ve never experienced anything quite that intense — and each slap on your red ass makes you flinch. Pain and pleasure mix in a delicious way and it’s overwhelming, but you still need more. 

“Thirty-three,” you finally cry out as they spank you for the last time. 

Not giving you a second to recover, they pull you up into their lap with ease. You wince in pain as your ass touches their thigh. 

“Aw, poor baby,” they say mockingly. “Let me dry those tears.”

They catch one of your tears with their finger and put it in their mouth. They moan in pleasure at the taste. 

“Delicious. Try it.” They catch another tear, ever so gently, then slip two fingers into your mouth.

“Suck.” 

You obey.

“See, you can be a good girl when you want to,” they say gently. “Yes, such a good girl.”

You melt at their praise. It makes you warm all over. They pull their finger out of your mouth with a wet pop. 

They kiss you again, this time softly, delicately. They run their nails over your back, the most gentle of touches, but it makes you shiver and burn and shake. They put one hand on your neck, tangle it into your hair, bringing you closer, closer, closer, while the other hand finds itself on your waist. They slip their tongue in your mouth, and you lose yourself in their touch. You don’t know where you end and where Lucifer begins anymore, and that ache between your legs feels like actual hellfire. Maybe it is actual hellfire. Maybe that’s what happens when the Devil fucks you. You don’t know.

Their hands are everywhere, and you aren’t sure how many hands there are anymore, and you don’t know where you are, you don’t know who you are — the only thing you are aware of is Lucifer and fire, fire, fire between your legs. 

“Yes, my sweet lamb, moan for me,” they purr, and you are surprised to realise you are moaning rather loudly and unabashedly. You are barely aware of your actions, no longer in control of your body.

After an eternity of delicious agony, their fingers graze your clit. You feel like you’re about to fall apart.

They circle your clit, agonisingly slowly, and you wail. You tangle your fingers into their soft hair, trying to hold onto something to keep yourself from falling apart. 

“Oh, darling, I am barely touching you,” they say sweetly. “I do have to ask you before you lose yourself completely, do you want to stay here with me?”

You can barely comprehend what they’re saying. “Stay?” you manage to utter through your moans. You try to rut against their hand, but they grab you by the hips, holding you still. 

“Yes, lamb, stay still for a second longer, yes, that’s it,” they coo at you. “Good girl. Yes, will you stay here with me forever? For all eternity?”

“Eternity…?” 

There is a distant alarm going off somewhere in your head, but you can’t pull yourself together long enough to think rationally. They run their fingers over your wet slit and suddenly there are no more thoughts left in your mind. 

“Yes, my sweet. An eternity of pleasure, an eternity of this,” they hiss as they slip a finger inside of you. You grip their hair tighter, afraid you will fall apart. You have never experienced pleasure as intense as this. 

“Yes,” you say, “yes, yes, yes, please, yes. I want you so much, oh please, fuck—”

They start pumping their finger in and out, slowly, hitting just the perfect spot, but it’s not enough, you need more. 

“More, please, more, aah—” you scream as they slip another finger and start fucking you forcefully. It’s the most intense pleasure you’ve ever experienced. 

“Do we have a deal, then?” they ask, completely calm and collected as they fuck you into oblivion. 

If you were in your right mind, you would have been wary of making any sort of deal with the Devil. If you were in your right mind, you would have realised your fate was sealed that night in the woods and that they had you all along. But considering the Devil is currently kuckle deep in you, you have no chance. They know that. They simply enjoy toying with their prey. 

The only thing you manage to do is to scream an ear-piercing “yes” as you come. 

When you come down from your high, the fire you felt before is no longer between your legs, and it is no longer pleasant. It is in your soul. The air no longer smells of violets — it smells like rotten flesh. 

Lucifer gives you their sweetest smile. They look like a true cherub, the prettiest of angels. 

“Welcome to Hell, sweet lamb.”

[dark-elf-writes]

I know I jokingly mentioned Fawn Spots Harry being homesick when he goes to Hogwarts, but this kid would be homesick.

More under the cut because this grew legs.

The longest he had ever been away from his parents is the odd weekend where he was being watched by Josh, May, or on one rather thrilling occasion joining Aphrodite on a leg of her tour that was close to home, and he has never been separated from his brother for more than a day since Jason was born. He had tried of course, had even managed the occasional sleepover with some of the other kids whose parents work at H.E.R.A. but he was always glad to go home in the morning.

Hogwarts is different.

He is half a world away from his family, can’t call them, and surrounded by people who take too much of him. (He will never forget the first time someone casually called him Harry seconds after meeting him. Will never forget the fourth year Hufflepuff who asked him if he remembered his parent’s dying. Will never forget the third year that grabbed his chin so hard it ached to touch his scar and the bubbling of fear in his throat before Fred had all out tackled the older student away from him.)

Harry doesn’t sleep much those first few weeks.

Boredom drags him out to the common room and away from the snoring of the other first year gryffindor boys. Not that sitting in one of the plush chairs in front of the fireplace and watching the flames is much more interesting, but it’s better than Ron mumbling about his great aunt’s doilies in his sleep.

It’s Percy that finds him, and for a second Harry is struck with that old terror of breaking a rule (mum and Bibi told him he was allowed to make mistakes. That he wouldn’t be locked away or hurt for telling them. But they weren’t here.) but the older Weasley brother just settles on the couch next to Harry’s chair and pulls out a textbook.

The turning of pages and soft scratch of Korean is so familiar Harry cries. Percy is kind enough not to mention it, though Harry can feel eyes on him, watching to make sure he is okay.

An odd, quiet friendship is formed in those late nights. They never talk about it during the waking hours, not even when Harry slowly gravitates closer and closer until he is leaning against Percy’s side while he studies. Sometimes Harry manages to fall back asleep between the warmth of the fire and the steady sound of Percy breathing. Others he cries, silent and hardly daring to move. Others still he works up the courage to ask about Percy’s homework. Percy doesn’t mind, he claims that explaining it out loud helps him learn it better. “Teaching is the ultimate Mastery, Potter, “ He says with a soft smile and softer eyes behind those glasses.

(Percy never takes, not even when Harry grows close to his brothers, not even when he catches Harry breaking rules outside of their late night meetings. Harry gives Percy his name in the middle of one of his lessons on spells years ahead of Harry. He catches Percy’s smile out of the corner of his eye before the older boy continues his explanation.)

He isn’t sure what makes him talk one night. Isn’t sure but is helpless to stop once he starts.

“The castle smells wrong.”

Percy hums, marking his place in the textbook and turning to give Harry his full attention. “Wrong?”

“Wrong!” It’s perhaps a bit too loud considering the late hour, but Harry keeps going. “It’s all stone and wind and potion ingredients. And it’s quiet! It stupid! I shouldn’t miss the sounds of sirens and car alarms in the middle of the night but it’s like the whole world is holding its breath! There’s no music other than the frog choir! It’s all quiet! Like it’s dead!” Harry realized with a start his face was wet with tears, weeks of frustration and loneliness bubbling over. “And it’s so dumb that phones don’t work here! Why not? It’s magic! I should be able to call anywhere! From the bottom of the lake with the stupid squid! I should be able to never have to pay for phone service or wifi ever! Instead it’s just a bunch of nosey people in a castle that smells wrong!”

Percy nods sagely. “I always thought it should smell more like bread.”

It draws Harry up short. “Bread?”

“Mum cooks a lot. The house always smells like bread and bacon grease.” It shocks a laugh out of Harry. It makes him cry harder. It makes him feel a little less alone. Percy leans back against the couch and stretches an arm out along the back in a way that is all the twins and looks so weird on him. Like when Jason tried to mimic Harry. Harry settles against Percy’s side pressing his face into his comfy knit sweater.

“What do you think it should smell like, then?” Percy’s voice is quiet. Barely louder than the crackling of the fire.

Harry closes his eyes. “Like coffee and lemon cookies,” He says, looking at the flames. “My mum bakes a lot and she and Bibi are addicted to coffee.”

Percy snorts. Harry feels a hand in his hair that was so familiar a fresh wave of tears hit him. “How American.”

“Bibi is Greek, actually.”

The hand in his hair tugs gently on a stray lock. “Do you know Greek then?” Harry nods, pressing back against Percy’s hand like Jason’s puppy aura, eager for pets if only to drive away the spike of feeling in his chest.

“That’s worse than the quiet I think,” Harry admits. “It all English unless it’s spells.”

Percy hummed, then pointed to the fire with his free hand. “What’s fire in Greek?”

So Harry teaches him.

(The next morning Harry has to bite back tears when he sees a plate of lemon cookies and a carafe of coffee waiting at his usual seat. Percy toasts him with a fresh cut slice of bread and a smile when he looks up the table. He adds enough sugar and cream to his coffee that it’s nearly white, but the first sip feels so much like home the ache in his chest lessens just a bit more.)

[amalia-uwu]

🌹Hanahaki🥀

Based on Skerbbie's fanfiction Firsts & Seconds @skerbbie 💚

I DO NOT OWN -> Undertale, Horrortale, Farmtale, the fic First & Seconds, Hanahaki disease. The rights go to the respective owners!

Warnings ⚠️: Angst, Hanahaki Disease, body horror, light gore, blood.

(please tell me what else to add).

CHAPTER 1 (you are here)

CHAPTER 2

Undertale by Toby Fox

Horrortale by Sour Apple Studios

Farmtale by GuinongTale_AU

First & Seconds written by Skerbbie @skerbbie 💚

Hanahaki Disease by Matsuda Naoko

Cover Photo by Tyler Lastovich from Pexels

.

🥀🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹🥀

CHAPTER 1 :

Hanahaki

.

He could no longer deny the fact  that he had developed feelings for the fell monster....

...He didn't know... if their feelings were mutual..

Sans wanted to refuse, forsake his emotions for them! But, couldn't..

.

.

It started one day...

He didn't know why but, he began feeling a tingling sensation in his soul and thorax..

He would find petals in his clothes, bed and many more places.

Sometimes he will even cough red petals of daffodils or red roses or a mix.

He didn't say anything to Papyrus and he prayed that he wouldn't notice.

Seems like luck was with him on that one. Cause, Stones needed to visit the town for some works.

.

.

Sticks paid close attention to the small flowers blossoming in his soul.

Red roses, carnation, lilies, forget me not, daffodils and many more flowers.

Alright, he really needs to call Abby. Well it's not like you wake up everyday to flowers blossoming around your soul..

Besides, he could no longer keep this a secret. He needed to know what was happening.

He pulled his phone and dialed Abby's number.. "Heya Abby? Can we meet somewhere quite? There is something I want to show you..."

She accepted. "You can come to my office". He teleported there.

.

.

He removed his shirt revealing the red flowers, that covered most of his ribs.

Abby's eyes widen slightly. The shock was replaced with sorrow, understanding, pity...

She walked closer, concern on her dark eyes.

"How long?" she questioned; slowly touching and inspecting some of the flowers that had embraced Sticks's ribs.

"Days to a... week...(?) " he looked down, then at her again. "Can you... fix it?".

She removed her hands and sighed defeated "I am sorry Sticks.. but.. I can't fix the Hanahaki disease"

He blinked perplexed "Hanahaki disease?"

"Yes it's a disease where  a person who has an unrequited  love; in other words one sided love, will blossom flowers in their chest.. You repressed your affection for someone to the point you got the hanahaki.." she didn't have the heart to continue.

He looked at the ground, then raised his face to fully look at her "Is there a cure?" his soft monotone voice low.

"They must love you back. True love. Friendship doesn't work. That's one way for the flowers to disappear.

Second way is; you can remove the flowers by surgery but all the love you have for your lover will be replaced with apathy. You will no longer love them".

He hummed lowering his emerald eyes. "What if... it's too late?" he asked quiet hesitant.

She looked at the ground. Her dark eyes held grief. Her blonde hair covered her eyes a little.

When she spoke she wasn't looking at him. She couldn't bear to look at him.

"Those... whose... love was not requited by their beloved in time.... didn't have a happy ending..

I'm sorry..."

She gathered the courage to look at him. Her job could be so fucking difficult at times..

«How was this happening? Why was it happening? He did nothing wrong.. What kind of cruel fate is this? Why is this kind sweet skeleton going through this?! » many questions were on her head.

Sticks took it surprisingly calm, "Don't tell my brother or anyone! This is between me and you okay?"

"Sticks? Wh-" she looked at him eyes wide.

"He already worries too much" he looked at the ground, his brow narrowed, then at her.

"Sticks he is your brother he must know!" despair in her voice.

"No! I-" He began coughing some red petals landed on his hand.. Rose and carnation petals.

She stopped talking. She just observed. She felt an invisible hand squeezing her soul. He panted "Sorry Abby.. but, Please. Please.. I-I'll handle it. Okay?"

She lowered her head and bowed, "As you wish but at least, let me know in case you need something, I'll try to make it as comfortable as I can..." 

He nodded "Thank you Abby" he smiled. He turned his back, walked towards the door and attempted to teleport.

"Sticks?" she asked softly. He was by the door, slouched, his straw hat covering his eyes. His mouth a tight line. He looked over his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry... It's beyond me.." this was one thing she hated in her job. Not being able to save someone..

"It's okay... Im not mad at you!" he turned to face her. He gave her a small smile.

"Some loves aren't meant to be requited... I can only blame myself for loving him..." he whispered and slowly faded away.

Abby heard what he said. She slowly sank on her knees. She brust into tears.

Sticks teleported back home. Once outside his home he walked towards the lemon trees. He knelt down and wept bitterly.

Maybe it was karma for all these times he didn't love someone back.

Maybe their love wasn't meant to be fulfilled..

They were from two different worlds.

After he cried his soul out he wiped his eyes. He got up and straightened up. He took some deep steady breaths.

He did some work around; feed the animals, clean the barn, pick up some vegetables and eggs.

Later cooked with Axe and both enjoyed a nice meal.

Will everything be alright? Propably. Right?

.

.

.

.

As the days passed by and judging the fact he saw him everyday, every hour, minute and second.. the hanahaki deteriorated..

.

.

He would go outside and cough more and more petals; a handful, sometimes even small whole flowers.

If Axe looked at him worriedly he would just smile and say "is just the dust and some flowers that bother me this season don't worry".

What else could he do? Tell him that he suffers because of him?!

No.. No.

He kept doing work around; cleaning, picking up the vegetables, fruits, feeding the animals etc.

Axe seemed to be quite helpful. He would look at him quite fondly..

Sticks noticed it but...the freaking flowers won't go away.

.

.

.

Papyrus was in town. Abby saw him. She tried to play cool. But seeing him shattered her heart.

She respected Sticks decision. She sighed heavily. She hugged Stones and gently patted his shoulder.

"Is everything okay Abby?" he asked. She nodded "Yeah, I just missed you is all!" she smiled.

He smiled back.

.

.

.

🍃 🍃🍃🍃 🍃🍃🍃 🍃🍃🍃 🍃🍃

Sticks could only prune his flowers so he won't raise suspicions. He needed to keep them hidden. They began bothering him the bigger they grew.

He couldn't force Axe to love him.

No. You can't force someone to love you.

.

.

Axe had noticed that Sticks was getting tired. Well, he was always tired but there was something off. He could sense it.

Axe paid close attention to him. Sticks had dark circles under his eyes sockets.

He seemed more tired than normal. He was coughing quite a lot especially when he (Axe) was around.

Axe actually loved Sticks's new fragrance. Sticks smelled like roses, carnations, lillies, forget me nots, daffodils etc.

The fragrance was a cocktail of flowers.

A pleasant fragrance for others

Pain and torture for the bearer...

.

.

Poor Sticks.... You truly are an unfortunate creature...

.

.

.

END OF CHAPTER 1

Chapter 2

Did you notice that at the end I said “Sticks you are an unfortunate creature?”

It's a literacy device. It symbolizes fondness. Fondness of the author towards the character.

Please let me know what you think!

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Beyond the Blood Tie - Chapter Twenty Nine.

Previous Chapters - One  Two, Part One Part Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty  Twenty One  Twenty Two  Twenty Three  Twenty Four  Twenty Five  Twenty Six  Twenty Seven  Twenty Eight

Words - 5,427

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

Angel's POV

"The soothing, relaxing, vibrating girlfriend," I hum softly to Edie, while she lies naked on top of me, shaking yet boiling hot. Flu is a fucker, and right now it's fucking her big time.

"Don't, don't make me laugh or I'll start coughing again!" she exclaims, before doing just that, hacking her lungs up. I reach over to the nightstand and pick up her bottle of cough syrup, which she takes a mouthful of before I stretch to return it there and continue idly stoking her nakedness. Lying against me like this is very soothing for her since she's almost permanently boiling hot, and with my body temperature being that of a stone, I work well in reducing her raging fever. She's been sick for three days now, and when I dropped the note in to Tyrell Cleaves at the CD he wasn't impressed, even questioning Charles and his worth as a doctor.

I stayed around for the phone call he made to Charles, and stood there laughing quietly when my 'father' blasted him with a barrage of accolades and then asked him if he'd like a diagnosis for his ignorance, because he'd be happy to give him one. 'The letters after my name actually mean something, you know, you dull-witted oaf!' Charles raged at him before hanging up. I was in hysterics as soon as I got outside of the building. Edie laughed too when I'd arrived home later that night and told her.

"You know, I actually wanted to book a little time off work so I could spend some time with you, but this wasn't exactly what I had planned, being so sick I can hardly fucking move," she complains, her shudders still not stopping.

"In turn, I hate seeing you like this, knowing there ain't much I can do about it," I lament, stroking her damp hair and kissing her head. She's all clammy with sweat right now.

"Isn't much you can do? Angel, you've been looking after me for the last three days, putting me first when you can around having to go to work and rest in the day. There isn't a single other thing you could be doing for me that you aren't already. Hell, you're even foregoing a full day's rest to make sure I'm okay," she tells me, moving to kiss my cheek and then groaning in pain. Even though it was over one hundred and thirty years ago, I still remember only too well how crippling having the flu is. Edie lamented that she felt like she'd been beaten all over with hammers, she ached so much, which is just how I felt when I was bedridden by it for ten days as a human.

"I suppose you're right. I forget how wonderful I am sometimes."  

“Oh, such modesty.” Her joke makes me laugh quietly, reaching for the cool wash cloth and dabbing her forehead with it again. Lying here, being attentive and talking to her is about all I can do at the moment, since she's too sick for me to take her out anywhere or enjoy rolling her around the bed in the name of wild sex. I understand that she feels rotten, so I'm not going to pester her for it, although I’m horny as fuck. It’s here that I suddenly have an idea after looking at my watch and seeing I have to be at work in an hour from now. I'll go in today, but after tonight I'm cancelling my appointments for the next week, so I get to spend more time with Edie since she isn't working at the moment either.

I have all eternity to tattoo people and whatever other careers I might go into in my immortal time here, but I don't have all eternity with Edie, sadly. I want to enjoy her as much as I can, so take great pleasure in telling her of my plans upon my arrival home six hours later, finding her lying in the bath fully submerged. I just stand in the doorway and look at her for a few moments as she lies with her head under the water, before she obviously feels me right there and emerges to give me a big smile. No other human has ever captured my interest or my heart as much as Miss Bailey here.

"Are you hovering for a reason?" she asks, before puckering her lips at me. I go over to her and plant a kiss on them before beginning to undress.

"Just thinking how lovely you are while deciding to interrupt your bath or not," I tell her.

"I see you've made up your mind there then," she nods, as I remove the last of my clothes and slide into the hot water behind her.

"I have, and I also made up my mind on something else, too. I've cancelled all of my appointments for the next week so I can spend all the time I want to with you. I have all eternity to work, I don't have all eternity with you.” Wrapping her in my arms, I kiss her head, noting that she feels a little cooler now, fever wise.  

"You didn't have to do that, I'm not much company anyway at the moment, and also won't it be bad for business, you just clearing your schedule for the next week? Your clients will be so disappointed," she states, turning to look at me with a little concern.

"They've all been rescheduled for later times over the next month, so no one is going to be disappointed. Besides, you should know by now that you're the only human I give a shit about," I assure her, watching her smile before she rests her head back against my shoulder. Tonight is the start of the nights to follow where Edie and I lie together, be it in the bathtub, the bed, or downstairs in the back yard when she's feeling too hot, and talk about anything and everything.

"I met Eric when Ursula visited a vampire who used to live in his former nest. I thought he was the weirdest vamp I'd encountered, but it was that difference in him that I ended up liking. I mean there's no doubt about the fact he's a vampire, but he has good human attributes too that some vampires lose forever. He's savage when he's pissed off or in combat though. One of our favourite things to do shortly after we met him was to go and kill the reanimated together. I remember one time just for fun, me, him and EZ went into the middle of Vegas with machine guns and deliberately stood there in the street firing off round after round into the air to bring out the dead, and then tore them all apart," I explain in reminiscence as we sit on the large and ornate wrought iron bench in the back yard a few more days into her sickness. She wanted to know more about how it was back when the disaster had struck.

"How did you kill them if you couldn't drain them?" she questions with interest, pulling the blanket she's wrapped in around herself a little tighter. She says she feels cold, yet her skin is like a furnace. At least she's stopped throwing up for the time, six days in now.

"We'd tear their heads off, or just punch them straight through the skull. That was the only way to kill them, a direct blow to the head. We used to make their heads explode everywhere, it was fun. Ursula came with us once and recorded it on a video camera. She said it was like her version of a normal mother filming her kids' graduation. I've no idea where the tape is now, I even looked for it earlier. What I did find, though, are my Godfather trilogy DVD’s. I remember you said you’d only seen the first one.” Immediately, her eyes light up.  

"Ooooh, yes! But not until later, as right now I’m really enjoying out conversation, now that I finally feel I can concentrate better.” She's been a little out of it with the flu medicine she's been taking recently, but after Charles read the labels on the bottles and packets, he promptly put them in the bin. He told her all she needed was ibuprofen to lower her temperature and ease her physical discomfort, and tea tree oil to help with her sinus trouble, which would also help cleanse her of germs. He bought both for her himself, and I'll never forget the lecture I got when he arrived back. 'I don't know what you bought all of that highly caffeinated and sugar laden crap for! I bloody told you not to, quite specifically, too! All this modern witchcraft medicine, these pharmaceutical companies and their money-making chicanery, it's enough to make me want to spit!' he fumed while heading upstairs, leaving me laughing in his wake. I love how he denounces anything he doesn't think is beneficial to medicine as witchcraft.

"I know what we haven't done and said we'd do, look up ideas for the tattoo you want here," I suggest, moving the arm that's around her to reach down and trail my fingertips over the small scars on her chest.

"Oh yeah, I'd forgotten all about that! Let's go now, I feel better for getting some air anyway," she replies excitedly, standing up. We head back inside and up to my room, where I switch my computer on and then pull her down onto my lap to begin looking at images once it's loaded up.

"Look at the date, we've been together properly for a month today," I tell her, after noticing the time and date icon load at the lower right-hand side of the screen. Her face is a picture of surprise.

"A month, really? Is it that long already?"  

"It is, happy anniversary, even though it's lame to have one for your first month," I tell her, giving her a kiss.

"Yeah, pretty lame. That's why I'm not returning the sentiment. And to think you're a vampire too. I dunno," she teases softly with an eye roll, making me laugh. I'm always amused when she mocks me, because it's good to hear. I can't have banter with humans; they're all too scared of me. Edie isn't though, and I love it.

"I'll be mean to you for a while to make up for it then," I joke, still laughing a little.

She leans to kiss my head, her nails combing through my hair. “That’s better.” We sit for an hour looking over different designs and ideas, with Edie pulling very thoughtful faces as we work through the various themes.

"What about if I did something that went down both sides of your chest, say from here to here," I suggest, trailing my finger from her collarbone to the top of her breast where the white lines run to.

"I don't know, I don't want it to be anything too big or bold, but now you're making me start to worry it'll look funny just on one side," she says, looking down at her chest.

"Well, I'll draw out two of whatever you have done and do one first, and then if you want the other, I'll have the line drawing right there. You need to decide what you want first though.” She doesn't make that decision tonight, getting a headache after looking at the computer for an hour and wanting to go to bed after that.  

She falls asleep quickly, and so as not to disturb her I head downstairs and wait for Ursula to arrive home. Heading to the kitchen, I pull out some fresh cuts of meat from the fridge for Icarus and Thor, throwing them into their bowls. When I whistle for them, they come running just as I expect, but just five seconds after they've put their heads down to eat, they're startled by something none of us expected. That something is for a bloody and beaten EZ to open the kitchen door and come crashing through, swaying on his feet before falling. I catch him before he hits the floor.

"What the fuck happened to you?" I ask as I haul him up and kick out a chair at the kitchen table to sit him in.

"Ten other vampires, back there right at the bottom of the main road just before I was about to turn up to here. I knew there was about four of them lurking as soon as I turned the corner, the other six caught up pretty quickly, though. I can't talk�� I need blood," he grunts, holding a hand to where he's obviously been stabbed in the lung with something silver. Knowing Edie is sick and sleeping (and selfishly I'm not willing to share my food source) but seeing that my brother needs blood quickly, I zoom out without word, traveling the two-minute walk to Ursula's human friend Angela's house in about ten seconds at my speed. Twenty seconds after that and she's standing in the kitchen with me, EZ's mouth clapped around her wrist. Just then, Charles arrives.

"I'll have the fangs of whoever did this, and I will find out who," he states vehemently, after casting his eye over EZ.

"No, you won't. You know as my creator I'd never tell you what to do, but when you hear what I have to say, you'll back off. They were anti-TVM vigilantes, and they gave me a message. Unless Ursula surrender and expose her ties with the TVM and its other figureheads, this and worse happens to Angel. I suppose they needed someone to make their point with before that happened," he reveals after feeding, sealing Angela's wrist and then kissing it as he looks up at her. I don't think she will be going home tonight. She's about the only human he can tolerate, and that is because she's a very intelligent woman, and a damn good fuck too, apparently.

"In turn to match your initial words, no, they won't. I can bet just who is behind this, and it isn't who they said they were. The vampires who attacked you were sent by Elias, no doubt. Trying to scare Ursula into confessing to something she has no involvement in by doing this to you and threatening worse for Angel," he spits bitterly. Shit, all of this just took a sharp fucking turn.

Edie's POV

"There'll be more water on the floor than there is in the bath by the time we're done," I exclaim through ragged breaths, my nails running down my boyfriend's back.

"You're mistaking me for someone who gives a shit," comes his panted reply before our lips meet again in a heated kiss, with him thrusting into me so hard, my mouth breaks away and I practically scream. I'm all better after my bout of flu last week, but this week literally as soon as I was feeling well enough for sex, what happened? I got my fucking period, that's what happened.  

Usually Angel won't come near me (menstrual blood, since it isn’t fresh is kinda repelling for vampires) but when you add the fact that we haven't had sex for a week to the fact that a bath is a self-cleaning system for messy sex, well, he couldn't wait another five days for my bleeding to finish, let's put it that way. He's been so sexually wound up that I'm surprised I actually have a vagina left, to put it mildly.

I came in from work and this was the first place I wanted to go, just to relax more than anything. Hah. "Angel! Will you leave the poor girl to bathe for at least half an hour in peace before you go charging in there like some kind of crazed sex demon!" was what Ursula shouted at him when she overheard him trying to invade my bath time and me protesting it. Oh god, I laughed so hard!

I'll give him his due, I think he lasted for about twenty minutes before he came charging in with more horn than your average mountain goat. Not that I'm complaining, I at least got to relax for a little bit before I got set upon by the sexual beast that is my boyfriend. I've missed his touch in the erotic sense, and right now I don't think this is going to be over at any time soon. I think this is the perfect way to take our minds off the fact that as of nearly two weeks ago, the campaign against Ursula was reignited by EZ having seven shades of shit beaten out of him.

This happened when I was still ill, and I was sleeping when EZ apparently came home stabbed several times with silver knifes. According to his account, he was jumped by ten other vampires. He managed to throw one of them off before the other nine got to work on him, one silvering his throat with a chain while the rest beat him with silver knuckle dusters and stabbed him in the face and chest. He was okay after he'd fed, of course, and spent the rest of the evening showing his gratitude to Angela in very, very loud ways. That woman squeals like an amplified mouse at the cusp of orgasm, and he got her to that point more times than my ears want to remember. What followed that incident has been much, much worse. Everyone even remotely associated with Ursula has been targeted.

Three nights ago, what could be so classically described as an angry mob arrived here at the house, threatening to set the place on fire with all of us in it. How Ursula kept her temper with them, I'll never know. She calmly asked them exactly what evidence they had against her, asked them for just one piece. 'We know you were brought in for questioning!' the ringleader said from behind his covered face (yeah, they were so brave they covered their faces, fucking cowards) to which she asked him if there had been anything found to be implicating in that questioning, why would she still be a free woman?  

He couldn't answer that. He also couldn't answer the question of why there was a human standing there next to her who she had her arm around, and was perfectly safe and happy. That human was me. 'I suggest you all get off my property at once, or I'll show you just what a one thousand plus year old vampire can do all by herself.'

That is what she told them before they and their fiery torches all moved away. She knew she shouldn't have threatened them, but Ursula will be damned to her final death before she lets anyone put the safety of her family in jeopardy. 'You are my family too' she told me, kissing my head just after we went back inside. That gesture made me beam, to be counted as family to someone. I know I am to people like Vic and Aileen too, but for Ursula to say it just made me feel extra special. I've only been with Angel for six weeks, but the way I was welcomed into the family right from the start, you'd think I'd been with him for six years.

A few days before that, there was another incident with EZ, one that was much worse than the previous one, much worse because EZ almost killed the vampire who attacked him. He'll receive no punishment for it though, because here's the twist. The vampire who attacked him was found to be affiliated with the TVM, and he attacked EZ for allegedly 'pretending' to be TVM himself. He was caught, of course. Charles felt the anger in EZ rise and zoomed to his side before EZ had chance to fatally wound the other vampire. Sadly though, when brought in for questioning, he refused to talk.

The AVA threatened him with his life and he still wouldn’t give up any names, so yesterday morning after being interrogated non-stop for eight days to no avail, he was sentenced to the final death and chained up to meet the sunrise. Angel has also had some trouble to deal with, in the form of someone trying to pin a murder of a young girl upon him and his sexual problem. Ursula discovered her body, when enjoying her garden and picking some flowers at first dark, when she smelled something coming from the manure heap at the back of the yard. Under the large heap of horse poop was the body of a naked and drained girl.

She and Charles had been away enjoying their wedding anniversary at a beautiful hotel up in California the evening before, and she knew that it'd had been left there specifically for her to uncover as soon as she arrived home and then (hopefully for them) try and better hide the body to keep Angel out of trouble. She did exactly what they didn't expect, and reported the find immediately. Of course, she and Charles (who was quite angry at Angel for leaving the house unguarded, since EZ was away running a less illegal errand for Charles at the time) were off the hook as the poor girl had died while they were away, so that just meant EZ and Angel had fingers pointed at them, and of course both of them could give concrete alibi's. EZ was in a massive vampire bar when he was seen by many who came forward and vouched for his presence, and Angel was in me over at my place, so there's his alibi.

What was worrying about this is the fact Ursula knows they were trying to pin this on Angel, and then unravel the rest of the bodies left in his wake, pin some TVM related bullcrap on him and then also succeed in putting further evidence to the case against her. This is worrying because only a handful of vampires, ones she has known for centuries and trusts with everything knows about Angel and his problem with all human women except for me.  

She's now worried that whoever is working with Elias could possibly someone close to her. She told all of this to her creator, Constance, who was so perturbed by the idea that she is currently in the sky on a plane, flying out here to Nevada to assist 'before things get any worse than they are, my girl' as I overheard her word it to Ursula on the telephone a few nights ago. She and her newest offspring, a vampire by the name of John will be staying here at the house.

"Are you alright?" The lady herself asks me as I hobble into the kitchen just before 5am. I say hobble, because Angel only finally let me out from underneath him five minutes ago, and after you've had the sexual equivalent of a bull in an antique shop for the last near two hours, it's kind of hard to walk properly.

"No, I need to go and sit on a block of ice for an hour or so. Ouch," I wince, while Ursula giggles. Opening the fridge door, I locate my bottle of kiwi crush and take a few hearty swigs (since I've been with Angel and spend so much time here, there are a few more bits and pieces of human items to be found around the house) putting it away and then turning to Ursula once more. I then almost choke for laughing.

"Will this be adequate?" she says to me, holding up a massive block of ice from out of the deep freeze where she's zoomed to fetch it. We both stand there laughing heartily at her joke before composing ourselves. "You bring such joy to this house, dear child. Especially in these dark times we are facing, I thank you for being so upbeat." Walking over and smoothing my hair with her hands, she smiles widely, kissing my head. She's such a lovely lady. How could anyone hate her this much?

"I do try my best, if nothing else but to stop Angel from worrying about it all. I know he worries about your welfare more than he lets on," I confide, going to the jar on the side and pulling myself a cookie out, feeling a little peckish.  

"Oh, doesn't he just. I feel that too just like you do, of course. Anyway, let me keep you no longer. I'm off to see if I have any messages waiting for me on my cell, see if any of my leads on this whole debacle have come to anything. I confess though, I feel so very clueless. I eagerly await the arrival of Constance, I feel she is my last hope, and at two thousand, six hundred and sixty-six years old, nothing at all gets past her." She explains, giving me a cheek kiss goodnight and leaving the kitchen.  

I head back upstairs to Angel, for what shapes up to be round two of being fucked so hard, I’m left nothing short of dick drunk in the wake of it. He keeps me like that until 11am the next morning too, before finally he sleeps, and I more or less pass out after drinking a little blood from his wrist. I'm glad that when I wake up, my mind tricks me for a moment into thinking I have work to go to later on, until my brains kicks into gear properly and I remember it's a Saturday. Ahhh, bliss. I also remember where I'm meant to be in half an hour. Shit!

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry I overslept!" I tell Vic as I race up his driveway, with him standing there waiting for me, tapping his watch.

"Don't lie to me, you were enjoying your boyfriend, we both know that much," he teases with a snort. He actually took the news that Angel and I are in a relationship a hell of a lot better than I thought he would. 'I've been wondering just when you were going to confess that to me. The way you talk about him, well it's the way a woman talks when she likes a guy' he told me with a little knowing wink when I revealed all to him.

"That big ball of fire up there indicates otherwise," I state, pointing up at the afternoon sun. I can hardly believe it's only a week to Christmas, and Nevada is still this warm. Okay so we never really have a proper winter like the people over in Europe or on higher ground have, but it does tend to get colder and rainier in December.

"Ahhhh, I'll let you off then, just this once," Vic replies before opening his arms to me and giving me a big hug. I haven't seen him for weeks, and it feels like so much longer.

"So ,are you still coming for a drink with us later? Please say yes!" I ask as we walk inside. I'm here for an early dinner with him before we head to Vic's favourite bar in the whole world, Mackenzie's Sports bar and grill, where we'll be meeting up with Angel, who says it's high time he meets 'your father' as he worded it. Vic is the closest thing I have to a dad after all.

"Yep, I got David to cover my shift," he replies, referring to his youngest nephew.

"Good, I'm so glad because he's actually really looking forward to meeting you, and that's very telling with Angel since his interest in humans only really extends to me. He much prefers the company of his own kind," I explain as he serves up the food. Fried chicken and big, fluffy on the inside, crispy on the outside baked potatoes (he cooks them perfectly) with some collard greens. Perfect.

"In turn I look forward to meeting him, the vampire who's made you so happy. It only feels like yesterday when we were sitting at this very table, and you were spitting venom over what a nasty asshole he was. How things have changed. Oh, are you still coming to me for Christmas day? I take it you can, since Angel will be asleep," he inquires, while passing me the butter before he sits down.

"Yeah, of course, I wouldn't miss your Christmas day cook off for the world!” I've near enough always spent Christmas with Vic and his family, and I love the atmosphere in this little house so much when it's jammed full of people. All conversation then ends as we begin eating our dinner. After we're done and all the dishes have been washed and put away, we take his dog Sadie for a little walk across the big fields that back onto his street.

"So, I've been wondering, how much different is it being in a relationship with a vampire to being with a human?" he asks me as he unclips Sadie's leash and lets her run off, barking as she chases a flock of pigeons in the near distance.

"It's strange, because it really doesn't feel that different for the most part, but the reality is that it's very, very different to being with a human person. You never see them in daylight for one thing, and I actually like that since I work nights, I can see him more than if I worked in the day, I can be awake when he is and sleep with him during the day.  

“Then there's the fact they don't eat, or drink anything other than blood, so sometimes places to go on a date can be limited in that respect. You also have to get used to the fact that they're wired differently to us emotionally. They're quite cold in a lot of respects, but that's the lack of life in them since they're dead. Angel is never like that with me, but of course I've seen that side of him. What else… oh yeah, the biggest difference is what they're like in bed, but we're leaving that where it is," I reply, while Vic gives me an aghast look.

"Oh come on! If I'm being truthful, that was the part I was fishing for," he exclaims, eyes wide before he roars with laughter at the look I'm currently wearing upon my face. Think startled goldfish, and you're very close.

"Vic!" I exclaim.

"What? I don't want any personal details, that'd be wrong, very wrong! But it's something I've always wondered. I mean, do they still do it like we do, or do they do it in some kind of… freaky way?" he questions curiously. When I've finished laughing at the freaky comment, I formulate my response.

"No, they still do it in the exact same way as us living people do, just with a difference. They do it faster, and for longer, and about a thousand times better than humans. They're ridiculously in tune with the person they're having sex with, and they're usually a lot older too, so they don't forget the skills, and they pick up way more than us humans ever will simply because they're lived longer," I reply, Vic nodding.

"Sounds interesting, but they scare me too much to ever try it out for myself! Those teeth, yikes," he begins, before asking me just how old Angel is.

"One hundred and thirty-six.” There's a few seconds of silence, and I turn to see him nodding before my eyes move to find Sadie towing along a big old fallen branch back in our direction, suddenly hearing a hissing noise. Oh lord, what's tickled him now?

"What's with you now?" I exclaim, trying not to laugh too. He has one of those really high-pitched laughs that automatically has me in hysterics. The noise doesn't sound like it's coming from a big guy like him.

"Your boyfriend is a hundred and eight years older than you. Ewww," he taunts, before really whooping with laughter.

"Shut up!" I protest.

"Does he smell mouldy?" I'm then asked through the hysterics.

"Vic! Stop it!" I cry, throwing him an elbow. I know he's only kidding, but I also know he won't quit teasing me now. It's the start of what promises to be a great night. If only it could remain that way all the way through, though.

[helianskies]

@pirates-and-posies it would be my absolute pleasure! happy holidays! 💙

Invitation

Portugal is surprised when, on Christmas Eve Eve Eve, the knocking on his front door turns out to not be a delivery driver, but, in fact, Spain. His neighbour. His friend. His sometimes-something-more. 

Why he is there, João has absolutely no idea. Antonio had not told him he would be coming by—he hadn’t even so much as hinted at a visit this month—so when João opens the door to him, he has no words, he has no thoughts. He simply stares at him, astonished, and inadvertently starts to let the cold into his Baixo Alentejo home.

And then, at last, the ability to speak returns to him. 

"What the heck are you doing here?" he asks the other, though, before Antonio can give him an answer, he skips over that entirely, slams a hand down on his shoulder, and encourages him inside: "You should come in before you catch a cold. Why aren't you wearing a jacket?"

Antonio fumbles and defends himself. "I'm only parked around the corner, I-I didn't see a need!" 

João isn't convinced that's wise, all the same, but then… he supposes that Antonio is not always the most logical person he knows. Especially if he is following an impulse; then, all reason and sense cease to exist. Today, it seems, that is very much the case.

As João closes his front door, he reiterates his earlier question: "What are you doing here, Antonio? And I mean in, what are you doing here, in Portugal, let alone standing outside my door?"

The other blinks. "Aren't I allowed to see you…?"

"Well—" He's stunned. "Well, yes," João replies, "but generally people tend to let someone know if they're planning a visit. They don't just pounce."

"Sorry, I just… I guess it was urgent," Antonio says sheepishly.

But that in itself is not really an answer, and João is just as confused as he was ten seconds ago. 

As far as recent memory goes, this is the first time in a long time that Antonio has wandered (meaning, driven several hours) to see him in person. It isn’t that he isn’t touched or flattered by the unusual gesture—he actually really is, underneath his stone-faced bewilderment—it’s just that… he’s still absolutely, totally, completely lost as to what Antonio is doing in his house so soon before Chr—

“Can I ask you something?” Antonio blurts—a question in itself, João wants to quip, but he decides to bite his tongue for once.

“Sure, go ahead,” he invites instead.

Antonio, rejuvenated, smiles at him. It’s almost enough to fight off the cold, fight off winter, fight off all of the negativity in their shared corner of the continent (though, that’s just a normal Thursday for Antonio, he's sure). It’s like a golden glow is emanating from his very being. And, on cue, the other says, “Spend Christmas with me this year.”

The golden glow dissipates. 

“That… isn’t really a question,” João remarks. “Are you asking me, or telling me?”

The other’s smile turns nervous. “Asking,” he replies. And before João can even consider his answer, Antonio continues, a rolling wave: “I just… I remember you said the other week on the phone that you had no plans for the holidays, and I thought back then that maybe that would change, but, I, uhh— I called around, and when even Arthur said he wasn’t seeing you, I… Well, it got to a point this morning where I just didn’t like the thought of you being on your own!”

João pauses. He reflects, for a moment. And then, his face softens, and he says, “You came all this way… to ask me to spend Christmas with you?”

“Yeah…?”

“And you couldn’t have called me to ask me something like that?”

Antonio gives him The Look, stern, serious. “Some things are too important to ask over the phone.”

“But you drove all this way,” the other presses, still puzzled by his behaviour—his persistence. “You… You didn’t have to do that, Anto. You really didn’t.”

“I did. I did, though,” Antonio says, shaking his head in defiance. “Because if you did want to spend Christmas with me, then I wanted to give you a lift. I was going to drive us both back to Granada.”

João, incredulous, can’t help but smile feebly at the thought. Antonio’s place in Granada so happens to be João’s favourite of his neighbour’s quaint properties—rural, quiet, homely—but it also happens to be some six hours away, and the night is already creeping up on them. He couldn’t expect Antonio to drive that far again so soon, and, in the same breath, João himself is on the verge of a tiredness that means he should avoid sitting behind a wheel.

He realises, though, that… that he isn’t actually opposed to this idea of a Christmas spent with Antonio. It surprises him for all of a few seconds, before his eyes drift back to a waiting and seemingly anxious Spaniard, who, upon meeting his gaze, brings only warmth back to the room—to João.

“How about,” he begins slowly, cautiously, “rather than you driving all the way back to Granada tonight, like a madman, you stay here for the night instead.”

“But—”

“No, no ‘but’s. I’d feel a lot better if you got some rest before getting back in a car,” João urges, however, silencing the other with both words and a finger. "You can always borrow some clothes if you need to. Just… Stay. For now."

Antonio yields. "Alright," he says, "if that's what you want…"

"Perfe—"

"But you still haven't given me an answer," the Spaniard insists, his hand having stopped João from wandering off and changing the conversation (a hobby of his). "So, will you?" Antonio repeats. "Will you spend Christmas with me this year?"

João turns back to face Antonio—his neighbour, his friend, his sometimes-something-more—and he gives him that smile. That smile that holds his answer is a gentle curve, a fleeting gaze, a rushed heartbeat.

"You know, Anto," he responds all the while, "you do ask me some really stupid questions, sometimes."

Because the truth of the matter is that there is no one else João would rather spend this Christmas with. And he can only hope that the lengths Antonio has gone to mean that Antonio feels the same way about him. Now that… That would be perfect…

[ final wordcount, 1060 words! ]

[casspurrjoybell-25]

Cold as Ice - Chapter 1 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Landon Reilly

My morning had been going like the rest of my life had been, inconvenient, painful and annoying.

The side of my leg throbbed from where I fell after that stupid asshole knocked me down.

The pain in my leg slowed me down and now I was running behind schedule.

I made it back to my dorm later than I would have liked and still had to get ready for class.

As I was gathering my things, my cell-phone rang from my pocket and I let out a heavy sigh when I saw the caller ID before answering it.

"Yes Micah?" I answered, not even bothering to keep the annoyance out of my tone.

"Just checking up on you," he said in a light tone like he always did.

Sometimes I felt bad for Micah always having to put up with my shitty attitude.

He and his family had taken me in when I needed them most but I still wasn't used to people genuinely caring about me.

That was why I was agitated every time Micah or one of his parents called me with their sickly sweet voices just to check up on me.

"I'm doing pretty much the same since we talked last night," I told him, this time trying to calm my voice as I held my cell-phone between my shoulder and my ear and gathered my things.

"You just seemed kinda off last night," Micah commented.

I was always off by Micah's standards because to him, if I wasn't happy and polite, I was 'off.'

"I'm fine," I assured him, putting him on speaker so I could change my clothes.

"Did you still want to take the train up to Boston this weekend?" he asked me.

I had to hold in my sigh.

Micah and I had just spoken about this the night before.

I had already told him my plans hadn't changed and that I would be going up to his school for the weekend.

He was just worried that I would lock myself in my room all weekend if I stayed in Providence.

"You remember you have to get off at Back Bay and then get on the Green line at Copley?" Micah reminded me.

"Yes, Micah, I know," I replied.

"It's not that hard to figure out."

"I just don't want you getting lost," he said.

"I'm not going to get lost."

I had finished getting dressed and gathered my things for class, then quickly left my room with my phone to my ear.

"Is that all you wanted?" I asked him as I left the building and headed toward my first class.

"I just wanted to check in," he reminded me.

"You know, you can call me sometimes. Instead of me always calling you."

I rolled my eyes.

"Maybe I would if you waited more than twelve hours between phone calls."

"Fine, I'll just not call you and wait for you to call me," Micah said, though his tone wasn't angry like his words seemed and I knew he was bluffing as soon as he said it.

If I didn't call Micah by tomorrow night, he'd be calling me the next day.

"I'm running late to class, Micah. I gotta go," I said in a rushed tone as I ran up the stone steps toward the academic building.

"Okay," he replied.

"Call me whenever."

I hung up the phone and slid it back into my pocket as I entered the academic building behind a group of girls.

By the time I made it to the classroom, the only seats that were left were toward the front of the room.

I desperately looked around to find one toward the back but I had no luck.

I dragged my feet to the front of the room, taking a seat at the end of the aisle next to a girl with a giant binder taking up most of the space between us on the table.

The people here had no manners, that was something I quickly learned on my first week of college.

It was almost like a continuation of high school only with a bunch of unsupervised kids posing as adults.

That was what it felt like in the dorms with people making a mess of the halls and being loud at all hours of the night.

Luckily, my roommate and I largely ignored each other.

I opted not to room with anyone from the hockey team and instead chose to go random, it was better that way.

I didn't know if being with the hockey team 24/7 would be good for me and I didn't want to socialize that much anyway.

Here it was easier for be to fall into the background and I couldn't tell if I preferred it that way.

I was used to being the leader on my team and now I was some freshman that probably won't even get ice time but there was no one looking to me to follow my lead, no one to fuel me in my brash actions.

No one that knew anything about me and I preferred it that way.

I wanted to melt into the background and go as unnoticed as possible.

That was the only way I'd make it through the year.

[masontalo]

«Roof»

Friday of next week, finally.

Vayt sat in Lavrin's apartment, completely smoky, like a smoke machine, with this shit. The purple light made his eyes ache, and he wanted to just fall asleep and not wake up.

"I'm going to suffocate here sooner or later." - Vayt thought, hugging his knees and sitting near the wall.

The atmosphere was pressurizing to him: a bunch of drunk people who hated Vayt and in case of an idea for a mockery some of them had, he was sure to be the object. At least they had one mutual feeling: hate. A feeling that made Vayt so sick, so sick that he just wanted to stop experiencing anything, just stop feeling anything, just stop.

 A stoned Lavrin was lying beside him, talking gibberish that couldn't even be made out, while Vayt was just trying to wait for the right time to get out.

At one moment, Lavrin took a deep breath and began to speak more clearly, as if inspiration had come over him.

- We went out there. The stars were shining in the sky, everything was so magical, just like in the movie. And she said my lips were a lavender, - he said the last word with an almost satisfied moan.

Vayt frowned and lowered his gaze to Lavrin's face. His eyes were half-closed, and a drunken smile was playing on his lips. One could see such a state in a sober man, but only if he was happy. Perhaps Lavrin was like that now, too, but it was mostly the marijuana and probably the alcohol in his system that played its part.

- What the fuck is a lavender? - Vayt asked in bewilderment.

He was used to listening to Lavrin's drunken ramblings. A couple of days ago they'd gone out, where did drug addicts usually hang out? Apparently, Lavrin had found some girl who was also under the influence, otherwise how could anyone sober let someone like him kiss them.

There was no answer to the question. Lavrin just continued to stare at the ceiling. Vayt sighed and checked the time on his phone. 8:56 pm, time to go out. He stood up and put his backpack on his shoulders.

- Hey Vayt, where are you going? - Lavrin said in a pitiful tone, tilting his head back to see Vayt's indifferent eyes.

- I'm on the night shift tonight, and I won't be back until tomorrow night, bye, - he answered as he left the apartment.

Only half of that sentence was true. Sometimes Vayt didn't understand why he reported to him. Probably so that when he got dry, he wouldn't get a hundred messages and calls, so that he wouldn't have a reason to be in a bad mood again, if it ever became good at all.

Farz was sitting on a bench in the entryway. He had a cup of coffee next to him, and was holding a second cup in his hand. The guy was staring at the pavement, thinking. Surely Vayt is all right? Farz looked up at the window with a purple light. Had his eyesight fallen, or could he really see nothing but the frame?

A moment later there was the sound of a metal door opening. Vayt stepped out of the entryway. Taking a breath, he coughed a little. It was clear from the expression on his face that he wasn't happy. Of course he wasn't, sitting in an apartment with the windows closed like a hedgehog in the fog was no pleasure. But as soon as Vayt saw Farz, his eyes softened. He sat down on the bench next to him. It was the same bench where Vayt had burst into tears over nothing. That memory made him wince a little, ashamed of his condition then, so weak and pathetic. There was the smell of the weed that hadn't left his clothes completely for almost half a year now, but Farz chose to ignore it.

- I bought you a coffee, - he said without greeting, moving the almost cold latte cup closer to Vayt.

He took the cup and squeezed it in both hands. He felt the barely warm cardboard and took a sip, indeed cold, but his mood improved.

- Should I refund the money? - Vayt asked, looking at Farz, who was hunched over, resting his elbows on his knees.

- No, consider it a thanks. - he replied, stirring the rest of the coffee, then took a sip. Farz noticed Vayt's gaze and looked at him. - Why are you looking like that?

- Nothing, - he looked down at the floor and said in an almost whisper before taking another sip. - Thanks for the coffee.

They sat in silence for about five minutes more. Vayt continued to look at the floor, while Farz looked at the purple window, then at the guy next to him. Did he feel sorry for him? Maybe. It wasn't cool to live in a place where everyone hated, despised, and bullied you, he'd felt it himself.

Eventually Farz stood up and stretched, his spine not thanking him for sitting with a hunched back. He looked at Vayt, who was also paying attention to him.

- Shall we go? - Farz asked.

Vayt nodded and stood up quietly.

Farz went, the second took one last look at the smoke-filled apartment he would surely return to later, and followed the first.

It wasn't late enough yet, but there were only a couple people on the street. Perhaps the reason was that they were just in a bedroom community rather than downtown. It was dark enough as they walked. They walked in silence, either no one wanted to talk or they wanted to talk already on the place. For some reason Farz didn't feel much discomfort, maybe he was just tired from work, and being in the same house with a chaotic person wasn't much of a rest. The smell of Vayt's clothes was dissipating, and the chance of smoky residue was becoming less and less, which was good.

After a while, they did talk. At first it was just work talk, as usual. But Black suddenly wanted to talk about the incident with Lavrin.

- What the fuck is a lavender? - Farz asked, confused.

- You won't believe I said the same thing, - Vayt replied, laughing lightly.

They reached a tall building, taller than the apartment building Farz lives in. They walked into the building and stepped into the elevator. Vayt was still holding that cup in his hands. Both stood in silence, but Farz noticed something was wrong with his companion. Not feeling well?

- Hey, Vayt, - Farz said to him. - Are you okay?

He nodded and rubbed his eyes.

- Yeah, it's just unusual.

- You haven't been on any elevators, have you? - Farz asked, turning his head toward Vayt.

- Yeah, I can get to HIS apartment on my own two, and I lived in a private house when I was a kid, so there was no reason to use the elevator. - Vayt looked at Farz, who was listening intently. - I look stupid, don't I?

He squeezed his head into his shoulders and looked away with an awkward expression.

- No, it's all right. Just… - Farz couldn't finish the sentence because he didn't know how.

Vayt straightened, but didn't look at him. There was awkward silence again.

A minute later the elevator arrived at the top floor, they stepped out of it, and then onto the roof.

It was already finally dark, a cold wind was blowing faintly, and a dew of stars had long ago appeared in the sky. Besides them, fortunately, there was no one else.

They came to the parapet and leaned on it, it was almost a synchronized movement. Vayt put his cup down and looked out at the city, decorated with lots of different lights. The slight noise of cars came to them, creating a sort of atmosphere. A calm atmosphere, as if all the things they were living with were just not there.

They stood in silence for a while, until Vayt began to speak:

- Now I see why you like this place.

His voice was quiet, and he himself didn't sound like the aggressive and angry guy he'd first seen the cafe then.

- This is where I can always think or cool my head. Nobody usually comes here either, I don't even know why.

- Afraid of heights?

Farz laughed with his mouth closed.

- Maybe, - he said, looking at Vayt with a faint smile.

That look didn't last long, as Farz looked up at the sky, which his companion was also looking at.

To Vayt, the stars seemed brighter and brighter. It was so peaceful and there was no reason to worry about his safety. And there are no other annoying people who make you want to stop feeling anything. Vayt took a deep breath and looked down at the road and the passing cars that had been the background all along. It was amazing how new things could bring pleasure.

Once again, they lost track of time discussing more open topics.

- And after that, they think I'm unbalanced! - shouted Vayt, waving his hand and pushing the cup off the roof. - Oh fuck.

He bent over the railing, pressing his chest against it. Farz leaned in sync with Vayt as the cup flew along the building toward the crossroads.

- Now he's free and can have a wife and kids, - Farz said, looking at Vayt, hoping he'd enjoy the joke.

Vayt chuckled softly in turn, covering his eyes with his hand, leaving only a smile on his face, exposing the top row of teeth. He smiled softly, seeing that the joke, which was rather primitive, was still liked by his companion.

When the laughter stopped, they fell silent again. Once again, they stood in complete silence, once again the cars were the only background. Occasionally faint moans could be heard from the apartments below. It looked like someone was giving themselves and their partner a romantic evening.

Farz's smile slowly crept away, replaced by a slightly concerned expression, remembering their conversation before the cup fell.

- Hey, Vayt, - he said quietly, when the second one turned to him without a smile, just curiosity. - You really have shitty roommates.

Murphy took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his head, formulating the next sentence in his head. It was hard to say things like that to anyone without feeling embarrassed.

- If you want, - he continued. - you can come to my place for a sleepover sometimes. You'll be more comfortable with me than with THEM.

Farz emphasized THEM with the same intonation as White usually does. He himself smiled softly.

- Okay, I… - Black spoke, interrupting halfway through the sentence. He took a deep breath while Farz looked at him, smiling softly again. - Thank you very much, I'll keep that in mind.

Vayt looked at him with deep gray eyes that glinted in spite of the sun's absence.

After a moment, the skyline began to lighten. They'd been up on the roof all night?

- Wow, it's dawn already, - Farz said, taking his elbows off the railing and straightening up.

- We've been up here all night, haven't slept in twenty-four hours? - Vayt asked, looking at his friend.

- I guess so, - he replied. - I should probably go back to my apartment and get at least two hours of sleep, because I'm working today. You should take a nap, too, I think.

Vayt straightened up and stretched too. Being hunched over wasn't much of a pleasure.

- I don't think so, - he replied. - The apartment must be full of smoke. If you'd asked, I'd rather sleep here.

Farz shifted his awkward gaze. He had completely forgotten what condition the apartment of the guy he was staying with was in, but he turned back.

- Shall we walk together, then?

- Yeah, sure, let's go, - Vayt answered, stretching his shoulders.

They walked down from the roof as the city slowly woke up, the air warmed, and the dog owners came out into the street.

[dorefasolsido]

8.

***credits to the original creator***

FOOD

What is your favorite salad dressing?

Idk, not a big salad person. I like when my family adds shredded cheese on my salad, and then I only eat shredded cheese lol

Favorite sit-down restaurant?

Moon sushi.

Favorite pizza topping?

Just standard ingredients for capricciosa.

What food could you eat for two weeks straight and not get sick of it?

If chocolate counts, then chocolate, I do that anyway.

What do you put on your toast?

Cheese spread, normally.

What food do you eat the most?

Chicken?

Do you like food?

Sure.

Do you LOVE food?

I’m not that passionate about it, but when it’s good nothing’s better.

Do you even eat at all?

No, I photosynthesize in the sun.

What do you put on your ice cream?

Usually nothing, but sometimes chocolate syrup or sprinkles.

Do you like steak?

Yeaah, but not like too much.

Or are you a vegetarian?

Nope.

How about a vegan?

Nope nope.

What food do you hate the most?

Tomatoes!

TECHNOLOGY

How many TVs are in your house?

Just one here.

Do they all work?

Yup.

Do you have Comcast digital cable?

I don’t know but I don’t think so.

AT&T Uverse?

No?

Dish Network?

Nope.

Something else?

Yup.

What’s your favorite show?

Hmm, Squid Game, The Haunting series, AoT though that’s technically an anime, but it’s so so good.

What’s the worst show?

Lol I don’t know. Besides, I love bad shows sometimes, they relax me.

What color cell phone do you have?

It’s this really cool blue. Sadly, I broke its back glass very early on, so now I hide it with a phone case.

What kind?

Huawei P20 Lite.

What does the first text message in your inbox say and who sent it?

Ah, not gonna check now.

What was the last text you sent and who did you send it to?

Something to my best friend, probably asking her how her work’s going.

Who was the last person to call you?

My parents, I think.

Who was the last person you called?

Probably same, I hate calling people.

CURRENTLY

Are you missing someone?

Hm, I don’t think so.

What are you listening to?

Just outside noise, kids screaming, usual stuff.

Watching?

My computer screen where I’m tying this lol

Worrying about?

If I’ll be able to balance my freelancing gigs with a full-time job or if it’s better to just stick with freelancing because I like that more.

Where are you?

On my living room floor.

What’s it like there?

Pretty nice.

How are you feeling?

Not bad, actually, last night I felt kinda eeeh so I thought that mood would continue today, but I slept really well (and really long because I didn’t feel like doing anything at all) and today I feel much better.

Is anyone with you? Who?

My sister is on the balcony a few feet away.

Are you hungry?

Not really, but I could eat.

What do you want to eat?

Idk, I’m feeling Mexican food today, but that’s not gonna happen.

Thirsty?

Nope.

What do you want to drink?

Orange juice would be nice though.

What time is it?

3 PM on the dot.

LASTS

Thing you ate?

Spicy chips.

Thing you drank?

Pretty sure it’s water.

Thing you said?

No idea lol

Movie you watched?

Princess Mononoke in open-air cinema, such a cool experience!

Store you went to? What did you buy?

A supermarket, I bought some sandwiches, the aforementioned chips, some chocolates.

Person you talked to?

My sister.

Person you hugged?

No clue, not much of a hugger.

Kissed?

Not much of a kisser either lol

Yelled at?

Also not much of a yeller, so it must have been a very long time ago.

Book you read?

Anxious People by Fredrik Backman.

Thing you touched?

My laptop.

Person you became friends with on Facebook/Myspace/whatever other site?

Oh idk.

RANDOM

Are you a righty or a lefty?

Righty.

Have you ever had anything removed from your body?

A wisdom tooth only.

What is the last heavy object you lifted?

I bought some 5 kg weights for my sister and had to carry them in my backpack.

Have any scars?

Sure.

How did you get them? Any interesting stories?

Hmm, a pretty recent one is from rollerblading, my wheels got stuck on a little stone and I fell almost headfirst into some construction debris. Luckily, since I have plenty of rollerblading experience, I know how to fall, so I didn’t get seriously hurt -- just got scrapes all over. My elbow was in a particularly bad shape and now I got a nice scar to forever remind me of my adventures.

if it were possible, would you want to know the day you’re going to die?

Nope. Not how, not when, nothing.

If you could change your name, what would you change it to?

I actually wouldn’t. I never thought my name suited me, but then one day it hit me that it’s such a short, convenient, easily pronounceable name that all my foreign friends can use too, so now I like it.

Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000?

Uhhh well no, but I’d probably try for $1000. That’s good money for my country.

How about 10 bottles of ketchup?

Again, I’d try. Maybe if I had enough time, I could.

10 bottles of maple syrup?

I’ve never tried maple syrup so it’s hard to say.

A bottle of vinegar?

Okay, I draw the line there.

10 jars of peanutbutter?

With enough time, sure.

How many pairs of flip flops do you own?

None, I don’t find them comfortable.

Favorite month?

November.

Do you always answer your phone?

Lol no. I mean, I do to my family and sometimes friends, but if an unknown number is calling, well... sorry.

It’s four AM and you get a text message, who is it?

Actually, I’m the one who’s most likely to answer messages at 4 am because I often work at night. Plus, I know everyone’s sleeping then so they won’t answer right away. Sometimes I feel so pressured when I answer a message and a person writes back immediately, the exception being when it’s something urgent or arranging plans or so.

If you could change your eye color what would it be?

Probably blue. I’m cool with my boring brown eyes now tho

Do you own a digital camera?

Nope.

Do you take lots of pictures of yourself?

Not a lot, but more now than I did before.

Do you take them in front of the mirror in the bathroom?

Rarely, but it happens.

Have you ever had a pet fish?

Nope.

Pet hamster?

Nope.

Bird?

Nope.

Favorite Christmas movie?

I guess I’ll go with Home Alone.

Favorite Christmas song?

Christmas Love by Jimin.

Can you do push ups?

Loool absolutely not.

Can you do a chin up?

Nope.

Does the future make you nervous or excited?

Right now it doesn’t make me feel anything particular. I’m usually of the excited kind, though.

Ever been in a car accident?

Yes, but everyone involved was okay somehow, even though a motorcycle scraped my family car at high speed. Luckily, the guy riding it had a helmet and all that, so he only sustained very minor injuries.

Do you have an accent?

I mean, everyone does? But yeah, English is not my native language, so I probably do have a vaguely East European accent.

What song always makes you cry?

Always? Well, none, but H. by Tool usually makes me feel that particular tightness in my chest.

Have any plans for tonight?

Just German lesson.

What were you doing at 12 AM last night?

I just arrived home from cinema then, so eating.

What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up?

Why are there so many notifications on my phone

[sirdindjarin]

Sierra Six x Analyst!Reader

In response to an Anon ask, I give you this little one-shot. 🥰

Summary: As a CIA analyst, you've been assigned to help Sierra Six twice. This second time proves a little smutty for you.

Random Notes: Long-haired female reader, usage of words I feel weird writing, Six slighty OOC (hard to write that man as a lover sometimes) but I based him on how he is in Ballistic (Book 3).

TAGS: Smut, explicit sexual content, porn no plot, fluff(y), Six's uncontrollable angst, unprotected sex, bathroom sex, fluff, happy ending, ambiguous ending.

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

ANON ASK

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Six sits on a stone bench inside a cacophonous mall. His target is a mid-level trafficker: forties, American, good-looking. The kind of man who could successfully sell anything. The criminal sits at a table across the cavernous room, waiting for a buyer who will never show. 

In D.C. for an op, Six is pleasantly surprised to hear a long-awaited voice over his comms.

"Good afternoon, oh-Six. It's very nice to see you again." He can hear your big smile. 

"Considering I can't see you, I'll settle for saying that it's nice to hear you," though he wants to, Six doesn't smile for operational security.

He gets back to business, "I have eyes." 

"I’m sure you've done your homework, Six, but I still have to tell you that there's an alley twenty meters behind the service doors, and Tally One will be using it to exit."

Six doesn't respond. He did do his homework. This was a run-of-the-mill mission. This man would be dead in that alley within ten minutes, and the world would be better off because of it. Six needed to exert no brain power over it. His thoughts instead drifted to taking advantage of being on the same continent as you. 

Six months ago, he'd been in Peru for a week on an assignment. You'd been his analyst. However, your involvement had been remote - providing Six with data via phone calls. The sweetness in your voice couldn't be mistaken for anything other than a good soul. He'd enjoyed the warmhearted, personal way you'd spoken to him. He'd seen your file in the mission documents and noted your staff photo. Six was surprised to find himself looking forward to your phone calls. He'd thought about you often since Peru, hoping you’d be assigned together again. 

         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ten minutes later, Six stands above the body of the trafficker. It was as cut and dry as he had planned, and the man never even saw it coming. Six wipes the knife and tosses it next to the body. Typically, other members of the CIA would come clean house, but they were content to leave this guy for the locals.

You pop your head from around the corner of the alley, your hair swinging out like a pendulum. Six notices the movement and his head snaps up to address the threat, but a jolt shoots through him at the sight of you. Bizarrely, he wants to shield you from the sight of the body, so he steps in front of it. 

You round the corner and smile gratefully at his chivalrous gesture. 

"It is so strange. I’ve been involved in the deaths of targets, but seeing their bodies in person is something else.” You're contemplative, staring at the man’s motionless form.

He doesn't reply, too distracted by you being physically present. You had been in a CIA polo and your hair had been pulled back in your employee photo, but now that you were blending in in civilian clothes, he could finally, properly see you. His heart beats faster.

You hold out your hand, wanting to introduce yourself officially. 

"This is my first time out in the field. I’m glad they set me up with a legend like you, Six." You beam at him, then your tone softens, “I enjoyed talking to you last time.”  

"Being a legend isn’t very fun, let me assure you."

He takes your hand. You can't help another grin. His hand is much larger than yours, and he holds onto it a second longer than he should. 

He continues inelegantly, “I’m also glad it’s you here today.”

"Our ride is in five blocks. Are you okay to go?" You ask in case he had been injured. 

The genuine concern on your face makes him want to smile. No one ever cared unless he was visibly bleeding. 

He motions for you to lead the way, and it's one of the least altruistic acts he's ever committed. Six shamelessly let his eyes rove. The knee-length sundress you have on hugs your waist perfectly, your hair swings as you stroll, and when you turn to look back at him, Six feels his heartbeat speed up again. His characteristic near-smile appears on his face, which causes butterflies to take flight in you. 

He’s so intimidating, you think. What is he smiling at? 

Two blocks after leaving the alleyway, you spot a group of cops standing around eating lunch. Six eyes them as they lean down to listen to their radios, and he knows the body’s been found. They collectively trash their food and begin to jog in your direction.

Thinking quickly, you grab Six’s hand and turn into him, placing your other hand on his chest. He instinctively puts his arm around your waist, and you tilt your head up, pretending to be deep in loving conversation. 

The cops run by you both without a second glance. You take a steadying breath, peeking around Six to make sure they’re gone. Once certain, you look back up at him. His arms haven’t released you, and his face looks like you’ve struck him. 

Six knows what you’ve done was purely tactical, but he feels like he’s just short-circuited. All thoughts of avoiding detection have left his mind, replaced by the feeling of you. He could smell the buttercream scent of your nude lipstick. He could feel your chest rising and falling against his own. 

“We’re clear,” you whisper. 

He nods and lets go of you unwillingly. 

You notice his hesitation and your body tightens at the thrill. Sierra Six does not think of me that way. Be professional, you tell yourself. 

Wandering through downtown D.C., you navigate the busy streets until the two of you reach a black SUV. Six gallantly opens the front passenger door for you, which he’s satisfied to see makes you blush. Six gets in the driver’s seat and pulls away from the curb. He’s navigating as deftly as he can, but this city is one of the busiest in the world, and Six is well-known for his poor driving skills. The CIA’s best asset is no match for metropolitan traffic. You decide to pass the time.

“Have you been enjoying being back in the States?” You ask timidly. 

You’re fiddling with the hem of your dress, which does not escape Six’s notice.

“I am now,” he says. 

What does that mean? “I hope you’re able to see family, or friends, or whoever while you’re back. I’m sure it’s difficult being away all the time.” 

He doesn’t answer, which makes you nervous that you’ve touched a raw subject. You can’t know that he’s trying to work up the courage to let you in. To connect with you.

“I’m sorry,” you almost whisper, “I don’t mean to be too forward.” 

Your hands twist in your lap. Six’s close proximity is making your heart thump wildly, and you feel self-conscious.

Six is fascinated by your incongruous personality. You are sweet and kind. How did you wind up in such a cutthroat, gritty workplace? So, he asks. In Six’s straightforward way.

“How do you work for the CIA?” 

“Oh, I have a few degrees in communications, languages, and finance.” 

He raises his eyebrows at you, so you add, “I couldn’t decide what I wanted to study, so I tried them all. And then my aunt - she works in Operations - said I should try for a position as an analyst.”

Six laughs, “I never finished high school.” 

Because you hear the bitterness masked in his words, you kindly lay a hand on his arm. You feel the hard muscles tense beneath your touch, which was the opposite of your intention, but you aren’t aware of how touch-starved he is. His knuckles tighten on the steering wheel. 

“I know enough about the Sierra program to know why you didn’t. I don’t know what happened, but I’m sure the justice system failed you given your age.”

The vehicle lurches to a stop at another red light. Six looks over at you, amazed at your desire to soothe him. No one had ever tried to cheer him up over his own crime - except maybe Fitzroy. His jaw is clenched as he sorts out his thoughts. Six does not want to drop you off at the Langley headquarters right now, so he finally emboldens himself.

“Have you eaten?” His face is unreadable. He grimaces internally, wishing he could’ve worded that more clearly.

Not getting the hint, and hoping your admission about his past didn’t offend him, your words stumble over each other, “Oh, uh, no. I haven’t. But, if you don’t mind - I hate to even tell you this - but analysts don’t get paid all that much, so I never eat out,” you explain. “My sandwich is back at the office.” 

The light changes, and he’s forced to turn away, but he tries to clarify, “I’m- asking you out for dinner.” 

Oh.

“You- what?” 

Your heart feels like it’s going to pound through your chest. The blood rushes in your ears. No one had asked you on a date since you’d started at the agency, and the first person to do so was Sierra Six? 

He tosses you a minuscule smile before returning his eyes to the road. Six should’ve known your diffident nature wouldn’t allow you to flirt, but he wasn’t any good at it, either. He chuckles under his breath at the comedy routine this was becoming.

A small, disbelieving giggle leaves your lips. “Okay, yeah! I’d love to, Six.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re seated at a nice restaurant. Nice enough that they had a coat check, and the bathrooms had antechambers with chaise lounges. Six wasn’t trying to impress you; he just liked the steak here. It never crossed his mind that you might think he was trying to show off his means. Despite his humble beginnings, Six hadn’t thought about money in nearly thirty years - thanks to prison and the CIA. 

“This place is so fancy,” you laugh. “Am I going to get kicked out for my dress?” It has spaghetti straps, and you’re worried.

“Do they do that?” Six had no idea if this restaurant had a dress code. He was always in a suit, anyway. Six frowns at his own lack of knowledge and chides himself for getting lazy in the U.S. His words don't assuage your worry, but you figure they probably wouldn’t have let you in to begin with. 

“I don’t see how anyone could have a problem with it.” He reasons, “I like it. It's very s-” He cuts himself off at the way you're squirming.

 “Thank you,” you feel hot again. You shyly duck your head.

You are nervous. Six didn’t need his extensive training in body language to tell him that. Six wonders if a non-physical compliment might make you feel more at ease.

“You were kind to me in Peru. That’s uncommon in this business.” 

You meet his attentive gaze, shake your head at his words, and sigh, “That makes me sad. I guess when you see the worst of humanity day after day, it does one of two things to people. It hardens or softens them.” 

“What do you think it does to me?” He asks.

You hesitate, wondering if you should be honest. “I think you’re one of the rare exceptions where it does both.”

Six sits back in his chair. “Soft is a dirty word in my line of work.”

You smile, your confidence growing. You shift forward onto your elbows, “That’s the beauty of you. You’re the only operative I’ve ever heard of who is so -” You remember you’re in public, “So good at your job but selective about your targets. You’re like Batman.” You raise an eyebrow in mock conspiracy.

Six laughs, loudly, which surprises both of you. “Batman? Jesus, that’s a first.”

“You’re better, actually,” you continue. “The things you do can be terrible - certainly the ones you go after think so,” you laugh awkwardly. “But the reality is that those terrible things do more harm to you. And you do them anyway because it’s what’s necessary. You’re a good man. You put everyone else above you.” 

It’s the most passionately he’s heard you speak, and he forces down the lump in his throat. Six did not agree with you. He was inside his own head, and he knew exactly how little the acts he committed affected him. He didn’t understand that that was exactly what you meant. That the coldness in which he insulated himself also froze him out from the warmth.

“There are things the CIA does not know about me,” he says carefully. He clasps his hands on the table. “And you would not think they were good.” 

“You’re human, Six.” You soothe, placing one hand over his. “You aren’t perfect, and you shouldn’t hold yourself to a standard that no one else does.” 

Six falls into your eyes for a moment, stunned by the grace and sincerity. His eyes start to tour around your face, appreciating your features, before stumbling over your parted lips. His own part involuntarily, and you feel a twist of tension in your gut. 

His eyes don’t leave their target as he asks, “You really think I’m a good man?” 

“I mean - I don’t know you personally, I guess, but… yes. Given what I do know and how I feel about you having met you.” You blush at your choice of words, but it was honest. 

“Would a good man want to do the things I want to do to you?” It’s said in a thick voice. 

He feels guilty for his lustful thoughts, but they just won’t stop. He's drawn to your goodness like a moth to a flame.

Your mouth goes dry, and you answer in a whisper, “I - I don’t know.” 

He smirks in a self-deprecating manner. His eyes flick back up to yours. “I think the answer’s ‘no.’” 

“Six -” you start, but the waiter comes by to bring your food. 

You’re no longer hungry given the look in the eyes of the man across from you. All you want to do now is take him back to your apartment and show him what you really think of him.

You thank the waiter - twice while he refills your water - and he leaves the two of you alone again. You’re speechless now, feeling awkward, wondering how to suggest it.

Six feels more awkward. He was trying not to scare you away, but instead, all he seems to do was put his foot in his mouth. He decides to change the subject abruptly.

“Do you have family?” 

“Oh, uh, yes.” You’ve got whiplash from the differences in subject matter, but you tell him about your family. You mention that you’re alone in D.C. “It gets lonely on the holidays. I try to bring in some cheerfulness to the office since there are others like me, but I feel like I don’t really make a dent.” You admit.

“I’m sure you do. I already told you that you made a dent for me six months ago.” Six tries to argue. He finds it hard to believe that you couldn’t lift anyone’s mood, but he also knows the kind of assholes that work at the CIA.

You don’t make eye contact, still feeling unsteady and surprised at the turn your day has taken. Six can read your body language, but his translation is off. He believes he’s offended you, and he’s already trying to manage his anger at himself. Six had waited half of a year to be assigned together again, and now he was blowing it because he had the social graces of a monkey. 

“Excuse me. I’ll be right back,” he pushes back from his chair and buttons his jacket. 

You notice the look on his face as he gets up and turns away. While your training isn’t as thorough as his, your translation is spot on. You watch as he opens the men’s room door and vanishes.

You make a split-second decision. 

Standing, you walk the fifty paces toward the bathroom doors. They’re rather far from the tables, you note happily. You swivel your head from side to side trying to see if anyone is watching as you pull open the men’s room instead of the women’s.

Inside, the antechamber is a deep red with artwork adorning every inch of space on the walls. You turn and see that the door locks with a deadbolt, so you throw it in place. Classical music is piped in, and a violin cries as you turn the corner to see Six standing at the sink, adjusting his jacket sleeves. 

Six is visibly shocked to see you. He whirls around, pulls his gun, and races over to you. 

“What’s wrong?” He’s immediately on alert.

You smile but it falters, your bravado beginning to disappear now that you’re face-to-face with him and he misunderstood your entrance. 

No turning back now, you decide.

You grab his jacket’s lapel and pull him down into a kiss. His face remains impassive for several seconds as he tries to wrap his mind around what’s taking place. You part your lips, kissing him a second time, then a third time, before he finally starts to relax his own lips. 

Once he reciprocates, you grab his biceps, pushing him backward in the direction you hope the furniture is. He lets you push him, which oddly makes the tension in your stomach coil faster. Six’s knees fold partially when they connect with the edge of the chaise; he sits down, grabbing your thighs in the process. His gun is discarded beside him. 

Your hands frantically unbutton his jacket. He shrugs out of it. His white t-shirt leaves his scarred, tattooed arms bare to you. You rake your nails tenderly down his skin and he shudders. His lips move with yours. His tongue enters your mouth just enough to drive you wild. You lecherously note when his dick twitches underneath you.

Six’s hands come up to cradle your face, wanting to be delicate at first, but he’s ashamed to have initially thought this was a ruse. It makes him overcompensate. His hands drop to skate up your dress, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, your ass. He pulls your body down against him roughly. Six smirks at the desperate noise you make. He wants to hear everything he can make you say. 

You’re wearing the worst possible underwear, of course, as there was no thought in your mind that this would be happening. They’re old, thin cotton with holes in them. They were comfortable, but they were ugly. 

Feeling frumpy, you pull out of the kiss to breathlessly tell him, “Wish I’d worn something nicer,”

You feel a jerk and hear a ripping sound as Six hooks his fingers in the elastic waistband and pulls them apart easily, his arms flexing underneath your hands.

He leans forward to taste your lips again, and mumbles, “Now I don’t have to replace them.” 

Your fingers move to unzip his pants, and he groans when they graze his swelling bulge. You slide his pants down to his knees - you don’t need them all the way off, you just need him - before settling onto your knees. Your hips buck of their own volition, all-but riding his naked thigh. He clamps a hand over your mouth to muffle the cry you let out at the relief. 

“Fuck,” he laughs softly, entranced by the blissful satisfaction on your face. 

His laugh makes his cock jump, which reminds you of something you’d thought of often when regarding Six. 

You stand, then drop to the tile floor on your knees. You quickly twist your hair into a bun, using your scrunchie to keep it out of your way. You trail your fingers down his muscular thighs, pulling his boxers down now as well. You pull his pants further (now you really do need them gone). You look up at him, wondering if this is okay.

Six is not breathing. His blonde hair is mussed from your hands. His white t-shirt is his only article of clothing. He’s looking down at the sight before him like it’s a cosmic event. His heart pounding, Six watches as your lips, the very same lips he felt depraved over earlier, wrap around his aching cock. He groans as your cheeks hollow and you start an agonizingly slow drag. His eyes close in bliss but he forces them back open. He does not want to miss a moment of this. 

You cup one hand underneath his testicles as your other hand strokes along his velvety shaft, working in tandem with your mouth. Your tongue teases along a vein and Six’s hips jerk slightly. You hum, gratified. You wiggle around, your heels pressing into your clit to relieve yourself somewhat. 

You relax your muscles, taking him until his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag quietly. Tears spring to your eyes as you make eye contact with him, and he almost cums right there. 

“Fuck,” he says again, a strained whisper this time. He grasps your chin and eases himself from your mouth, explaining, “You come first.”

The back of your hand comes up to wipe your mouth, before you’re straddling his lap once more. His lips and teeth and tongue work at your neck, your chest, while his hands push down the straps of your dress to give him more access. 

You can feel him, heavy and straining beneath you, and you can’t stop yourself from sliding your hands along his shaft. You tease the head of his cock against your folds, causing both of you to groan. 

Suddenly, you’re on your back. The chaise scrapes the floor in protest. You almost lose your breath with the speed he’d tucked you underneath him. But you’re not complaining. He sheds his shirt, and now Six is completely nude. 

He’s so beautiful. You feel so pleasantly small underneath him and his intensely warm gaze. Six is making you feel protected and admired. It’s an overwhelming feeling. Your fingers press against the pinup tattoo on his left pectoral as if to feel the ink impression. 

I’m still dressed, it flashes in your mind. As you complete that thought, however, he rucks up your skirt and pulls the bodice down, leaving you exposed to him.

Six wastes no time palming your breasts, unabashedly enjoying them. He shifts closer to kiss you, while the movement edges his cock along your entrance. 

Six barely leaves your lips, you can still feel his breath, but he locks eyes with you as he tilts his hips and pushes the tip of his heated cock inside you. 

Your gasp breaks into a moan, your eyes wide. You grasp at his neck with one hand while the other flutters to his hip. 

Six throbs at your reaction. He leans back more, settling his hands on your breasts again, and uses the motion to push himself deeper. You keen at the fullness and watch as his eyes close with a groan. They fly open, black in lust, when he bottoms out. You shiver in your own desire, and he bends down over you, thinking you’re cold. He pushes a lock of hair behind your ear, and you wonder how in the world he could think he’s a bad man.

His hand grabs your left hip, holding you still, while the other hand covers your mouth. His thumb caresses your chin. Six drags his cock along your walls, reveling in the hot grip around him. He pulls out completely before easing back in, just as slow. Six is absorbing every little expression, every ridge inside you, every little sound you make. 

Your chest lifts, wanting to be as close to him as possible. He’s almost fully seated inside you again when he suddenly thrusts hard, letting out a grunt as he does so. A small scream is muffled by his hand. He does it again, and it sends a shockwave up your body. He continues, rocking his hips into you faster, hitting some spot inside you that’s beginning to make you feel lightheaded. You’re making sounds without a care, knowing he’s got you there, too. 

He withdraws from you with a strangled sound and rolls you onto your stomach. He pulls your hips toward him, raising you onto your hands and knees. You giggle, arching your back for him. A deep groan rolls in Six's chest at the sight of you so willing and pliant for him. 

You feel his hands grip your hips, his fingers curling into your thighs, as he slowly re-enters your body. The invasion feels even better this time. He pushes himself inside again, his body rigid at first, savoring the way your walls let him in. His balls swing against your clit sinfully. You feel like you're being split in two, and you bite your forearm to soften your cry. Six does no such thing. His broken moan is not loud, but it reverberates in the room, setting fire to your body.

Six rolls his hips dramatically, wanting you to feel every inch of him. He sluggishly builds his speed, mesmerized by the way your body moves with his. You throw an arm out in front of you, bracing against the arm of the lounge. Six reaches forward to masturbate you, and you press your face into the cushion to whine, your face rubbing on the fabric with his rhythm.

Six leans over you, his thrusts never stopping, and carefully rips the scrunchie from its place. He grasps your hair again, wrapping it around his fist, and gently pulls you back until your head is on his shoulder. You can feel him grunting and panting on your damp skin. 

Your hands reach behind you for some purchase and you find it in his hair. His fingers continue to work your nerves perfectly. You feel the cliff approaching, and you open your mouth to tell him, but he hits a particularly sensitive spot and you splinter. Sheer, white-hot pleasure rips through you. Your toes curl viciously. Your knees buckle and Six falls with you. You clamp one hand over your own mouth to dampen the torrent of cries. Your walls clench around Six as he continues to plunge himself into you, though faltering slightly. He’s breathing heavily in your ear, and you finally recognize that he’s murmuring. 

“So good. Fuck, you’re so good.” 

It’s as if he’s not even talking to you; Six is just telling the universe. You’re pretty sure he’s not aware he’s voicing his thoughts. You tilt your head back in search of his praising mouth, and he understands, surging forward to kiss you from behind. He drops your hair, letting it fan out along your back. 

His movements begin to stutter and his hands massage your breasts. Into your shoulder, he grunts with each laborious thrust. You feel lightheaded with bliss. You look back at him again and he notices the mascara running from your lust filled eyes. Six could not be more aroused than this and it finally breaks him. He groans as he buries himself inside your tight heat, coming hard in a burst of final thrusts.

You both sit in this position for several moments, trying to catch your breath and hoping you've not been heard. He kisses your temple as he carefully leaves your body. You miss him already.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Six was gone. It had been nearly two months since your tryst in the fancy bathroom. Immediately after dressing that day, he had been called and sent off to some far reach of the world, and you'd heard nothing from him.

It was terrible. You had no closure, no explanation on what that was or if it meant anything. You went about your job as usual. Despite working for the self-proclaimed intelligence agency, you learned nothing of Six. You knew he was okay - he was too strong, too lucky for anything serious to have happened. No, what you worried about was whether or not you'd ever see him again. And why the thought of never seeing him again made your heart break. You eventually pushed every thought of Six away, trying to block out the memory of him. 

One quiet evening, you sit munching on crackers at your desk. Only one track of fluorescent lighting illuminates your office, and the other desks are empty. Everyone else has gone home, but you sit hoping for some news of Six. Normally, you don’t sit here after hours, but it's Friday - the only day you allow yourself to think about him - and you'll have to spend the whole weekend in the metaphorical dark. 

He's the Gray Man, you dumbass. You need to get over him. You feel like crying over your inability to let go of Sierra Six, but crying makes you feel worse, so only a few tears make it down your cheeks. 

You gather your things and sling your bag over your shoulder. Stepping out into the brightly-lit hallway, you see a figure walking toward you from the far end. 

You swipe at your tears, but you're sure the person saw your motion which was just as obvious. Your eyes are blurred, but you realize it's a tall, blonde man in a gray suit. His steps are quick, determined.

Your stomach seizes up in nervousness. Is it him? Surely not, there's no reason for him to be here now. 

But as you blink away the blurriness, you recognize the strikingly blue eyes, the reserved smile. You lift a hand up in a timid wave, unsure how this is going to go. 

You're not left waiting long as he closes the distance within seconds. He doesn't exactly feel comfortable making the first move, but he knows from your body language that you're taking his lead. So, as he reaches you, his hand comes up to cup your damp cheek. 

"Hi." Your voice breaks on the short word. Was the gentle touch him trying to get back in your pants? Or did it mean something more? 

"You were crying?" His eyebrows furrow.

"I- It was a rough day." You answer lamely. Then you ask curiously, "What are you doing here?"

"Is it not obvious?" Six drops his hand, confused. He thought he had a flashing neon light above him: Six is In Love. 

"Everyone's gone home." You tell him, meaning the upper echelon who ran the Sierra program. 

"I don't care about them. I'm- I'm here to see you." Six says it cautiously, now concerned about what you'll say. 

Your voice is little more than a squeak, "For some company?" 

Six's eyebrows furrow again, deeper this time. He frowns.  "Not that kind. You think higher of me than that, don't you?"

"I did. I do. But I haven't heard from you in two months, Six. I'm not sure what happened that day. I don't know what you want and I can't stop wondering what you want." Tears well in your eyes again.

Relieved now, Six's laugh is more of a sigh. He cradles your face in his rough hands. 

His blue eyes burn into yours as he spells it out, "I want you. You and your soft kindness. I spent two months away because I had to. But I also had to come back." It's clear he means for you. "As for what happened, well… you came on to me in that bathroom." He smirks.

You smile up at him, joy sparking in your heart, your hands holding onto his arms. You had tried to forget Six, but he's the kind of man you can't forget - despite his Gray Man reputation.

"You're glowing," Six says reverently.

[florencepughswhore]

Inspection

Warning: smut!

**************************************************

Though it had only been about a week since you had seen her last and the two of you had went months before without seeing one another this trip was different. It was torture knowing that she somewhere in Costa Rica traversing through the dangerous jungle and not even being able to speak to her. It was driving you insane, you were worried about her, you knew that she would be okay and make it back to you however the fear that something, anything could go wrong had you on edge. The entire week of her adventure had you nervously pacing around your home or working to distract yourself from pacing around your home.

When she had finished the adventure and got back to her phone the first thing Florence did was call you. She knew how stressed you were about her trip before she left and she wanted nothing more then to reassure you of her safety.

“Hello Darling!” Flo yelled excitedly into the phone

“Flo? hi baby how are you? Are you okay? Are you safe? Where are you? When are you-“ Your worried questioning were interrupted promptly

“Darling Darling Darling I am okay I promise that I am fine absolutely fine, nothing happened to me. I loved every moment even those parts that I was a bit nervous about! All went well and I even got to jump out of an airplane in the end!” She spoke so happily about the adventure

“What did you say? You jumped out of an airplane? That is so dangerous oh my god, fuck, I am happy you are okay. When will you be home?”You asked biting your lip

“I have a plane out tomorrow morning darling, I will be back before evening, I cannot wait to see you! I love you hon!” Florence smiled at the thought while ending the call

***************************************************

You don’t know what came over you when she walked through the door but you sprang from your place on the couch and to her at the door. She looked tired but otherwise externally okay as she dropped her bags to the ground and smiled happily at you as you reached her.

Your hands went immediately to her face holding it between your hands as you looked into her beautiful eyes and sighed happily.

“Welcome home floss, I missed you and worried about you the whole time.” You spoke with a frown

“I know y/n, I missed you too baby but I promised I’d come back to you and here I am.” She spoke sweetly placing her hands on top of yours and leant in to kiss you

The kiss was passionate instantly from the time and distance apart, or the tension of fear none may ever know but neither cared much as sighs of contentment escaped your mouths. Tongues not battling as they sometimes did but caressing one another in a worshiping way. Your bodies as close as they could get and your hands roaming to hold each other.

Flo pulled away and smiled at you stating that she should at least put her bags away before ravishing you however she did not know that that was not what you wished for.

You followed her to the bedroom and as soon as she placed the suitcases down you grabbed her shoulders turning her around to face you.

“Baby is eager today hmmm?” Flo grinned as she spoke

“ Just stand still for me Flo will you please?” You ask sweetly

Florence is intrigued, confused, but incredibly excited for whatever is about to happen. As her breath quickens she nods her head signaling for you to continue with your plans whatever they were.

You stood there for a moment just staring at her taking her him the short brown hair that she held back with her little gem stone clips, her beautiful makeup-less face, the hoodie and jeans that she had worn from he airport. She was beautiful, perfect, and seemingly untouched from the dangerous Costa Rican Volcanic rainforest.

You started with the clips taking them out and letting her hair fall around her face. when they were all out of the hair you ran your fingers through her hair massaging her head as you leaned in to share yet another long caressing kiss that left you both breathless and Florence reaching for your clothes which caused you to pull away with a giggle.

“Y/n what is this game you are playing?” Flo said eyebrows knitted and desperate for you

“Stay still and you will see baby” you responded moving your hands down to her chest

She released a breath as your hands slightly squeezed her breasts. Too quickly however your hands had continued their journey away from her breasts to the hem of the hoodie helping her pulling it off to see that the only garment beneath it was her black sports bra. You ran your hands over her shoulders and down her arms. Circled her body to kiss the tips of her shoulders and her back, checking as you did so for any injuries that could have been left from the dangerous adventure. You brought each of her palms to you lips kissing the blisters that she had received from using ropes to climb down waterfalls and other such activities. You sighed agitated that even though thus far this was the extent of any injury to your beloved girlfriend they were still injuries to her beautiful hands.

Flo at this point understood fully what was happening her girlfriend who had anxiously awaited her return for a week was inspecting her body for any injuries or differences. It was adorable the way that you cared for her the ways that you showed that love even more adorable your lips landing on each and every mole that she had and she had no doubt that you had memorized them with the amount of times that you spent kissing them and gazing at her body after the two of you lay spent and tired from and eventful night of pleasing one another. She loved you like this possessive, protective, loving she’d have you no other way.

Her thoughts slipped away with her breath as you mouthed her breast through her sports bra. The unexpectedness of it caused Florence to release a breathy moan but the moans continued as you lifted your gaze to hers and continued to suck on her breast slightly. Her hands reached out and grabbed your waist needing something to hold on to or she knew she would go mad.

You pulled away finally and lifted her arms to then help her dispose of the sports bra allowing her breasts to be freed making you whimper as they bounced slightly. You finally grabbed Flo’s hand and led her to the bed, now that her back had need inspected there was no need to keep her vertical. She laid down gladly smiling a cocky little grin at you as yo straddled her and placed your hands around her boobs. One on each groping them and letting your thumbs rub against her nipples, those pretty little nipples that hardened so easily at your touch. You were making almost as much noise as Florence was, loving having her home, and thus far unscathed (besides her hands which would need attention at a later time). As you groped her boobs your body thrust slightly absentmindedly against her loving her noises and the sight of her before you. Finally you couldn’t take it anymore and leaned forward wrapping your lips around one of her nipples sucking hard and swirling your tongue around it as well as the rest of her breast.

Her breasts were sensitive, they always were, her moans were deep and she couldn’t help but grip your head against her. She loved the way you were excited just to please her, the way you knew perfectly how to make her moan no one else. You were her little genius. Your mouth had now moved on to the other nipple which had been only serviced by your fingers until this point. After a few moments and a few sucks that made Florences hips buck on their own accord you popped off of her breast. Mouth slick with your saliva and smiling at her you leaned down and kissed her deeply, she had the urge to flip you over, pin you down and fuck the shit out of you but she knew you’d be sad to not finish your “inspections.”

You lifted yourself from the kiss and slid off of your lovers body back to the floor she lay propped up on her elbows legs dangling off the bed as you stood between them fingering the hem and watching the way Flo’s skin got goosebumps and she whimpered slightly at the too-little-attention. With a smile you unbuttoned her Jeans, unzipped them, and pulled them all the way off of her. Every action had Florence’s breath coming out in shorter breaths there was no way she was going to survive this. So there she lay clad in only her underwear propped on her elbows mouth slightly ajar, eyes dilated, and hair messy. You wished you were an artist so that you could paint this, have it hung up and stare at it forever. She was glorious.

You began kissing her starting below her breast and going down stopping briefly at her belly button and small piercing that she must have put back in as soon as she was done with the adventure. Your tongue played with the piercing a little making flo go a little crazier as she flung herself back onto the bed. Then you continued again kissing to the hem of her underwear then down her thighs all the way to her feet and back up the next seeing again no injury or change from the last time you saw her you were satisfied that now you had only one more inspection to do and it was one of pleasure more than anything else.

Florence gritted her teeth as you slowly pulled her underwear off of her the wet spot on them being very large and telling you that she was throughly enjoying this inspection. Her pussy lay bare before you, untouched by injury, and wetter then anything you’d ever seen. You let out a groan just looking at her. You leaned forward and kissed her licking up the slit and flicking her engorged clit just once. Then you stood back up as she groaned in protest.

“Hold on Flo, one more thing to do before you can cum.” You say as you swiftly stick two fingers into her.

This was completely unnecessary for the injury check but it was a very fun add on in your opinion and Flo seemed to enjoy it as she moaned and thrust against your fingers. You began thrusting them in in out of her watching her fall apart before you when you knew what you wanted and pulled out your fingers.

“Y/N! Why did you do that?” Florence growled sitting up and threatening to pin you down and take what she wants from you.

“Can you lay back against the headboard Flo? I promise no more games.” You said smiling at her before sticking your wet fingers into your mouth causing her to groan as she sat back against the headboard.

You promptly striped and climbed up the bed and to her smiling brightly.

“What are you up to ?” Flo asked breathlessly

“I want us to rub against each other flo, please?” You whispered to her though there was no one else in your home

Her eyes widened and she exclaimed a great “God yes baby”

You positioned yourselves so you were straddled over her and as you looked into her eyes you lowered yourself onto her. The first touch alone was delicious from there it was all thrusting, pulling, and pushing. At first flo laid back and watched as you worked to not only please yourself but also her. At a certain point it got too much for her and she sat up wrapping her arms around your naked form and thrusting with you. Your bodies sliding perfectly against each other causing the most amazing feeling as the too of you left open mouthed kissed and hickies all over each other. When your moans got to that high pitched area and turned only into whimpers Florence knew you were close and she wasn’t far behind. She began thrusting harder the wetness from the two of you was all over the place and the noises it created only added to the effect of the thrusts. Then she felt you bite down on her shoulder hard and your hips stuttered against her. She let out a grunt at the bite and continued thrusting to her own release finally coming to a stop a few minutes later while praising you.

“Y/n, yes y/n, good girl good girl god you are the best girl!” She said her face stuffed into your hair with you moaning at the overstimulation of her continued thrusts

After a few minutes of slowly ending your thrusts the two of you repositioned yourselves so you laid facing each other, legs and arms wrapped around each other.

“Fuck I should go on dangerous adventures more often if this is what I get when I come home.” She said with a smile as she moved your hair from your face and kissed the blush rising to your cheeks and nose

“I am sorry for being a bit over protective flo I had to make sure you didn’t just say you weren’t injured to make me not worry.” You said sheepishly kissing her palms where the blisters lie

She smiled at you “ I know y/n, I know.”

God you were adorable.

[yisony07]

From Zero to hero: Part 1

This story was proposed by @supermaletransformation.

The bell rang signaling the end of class.  Matthew took the things from him and was thinking of leaving. He was a Phd student in History just turned 30 and was already in his last semester; he only had to take two subjects, and even so the stress was constant.

As he was about to leave, the teacher caught his attention.

"Mister Brown" said the teacher looking at him with some interest. Matthew was surprised when, just starting the term, that he observed a handsome professor his age, and he couldn't help but feel a little nervous in his presence.

"Y-yes, sir?" he asked almost stammering, the firm grip of the professor's strong arms making his heart beat faster and he was already breaking out in a sweat.

"When we started the class you were one of the first, I saw in you that passion for learning; but now we are almost finished and your last reports have failed and you have not done well in the last exams"explained the teacher releasing his grip. He turned to his suitcase and pulled out a few papers. "That's why I've taken the trouble to prepare this recovery agenda for you to turn in in two weeks" he added, handing him the sheets.

"T-thanks, Professor Williams" he said as he put it in his backpack. "Lately I haven't been focused on anything, I'm sorry if there have been problems because of that."

"You know you can call me Jacobi; if you want to talk about it, we could go out, maybe have a coffee, I'm free now" the professor proposed.

Matthew couldn't help but blush, for a moment his breathing increased and his legs trembled a little.

"I... I would be delighted..." Before he could continue, his phone rang signaling his alarm to go to the gym "but I have to go" he added clearly sorrowful.

"Okay, it will be another time"

"Yes, see you soon, Mr. Wi...Jacobi"

Matthew left the room with a grimace, leaving the professor alone. Even though the sun was still shining overhead (although it was half past six in the evening), it was cold and I was going to the gym at the time.

"Dammit!" he mumbled kicking a stone on the road. "I had my chance and…" he thought gritting his teeth a bit. He looked up and, suppressing his annoyance, went to the gym. He changed clothes and proceeded to do the exercises. "Maybe that will clear my mind a bit...and finally put on some muscle mass." he thought. He was a slim, fit young man, yes, but his muscles weren't as big or ripped as he would like.

He was very focused performing his usual routine. However, when he was about to give his last set before leaving, a deep, annoyed, stale voice was heard.

"But look who we have here, Skinny Matty lights us up with his presence" yelled Will, a blond, muscular and notoriously arrogant jock. His comment upset Matthew and caught the attention of some people.

"Leave me alone, Will, don't you have anything better to do?"

"Aww, the weakling tries to play the man, doesn't he?" he exclaimed and kissed his bicep. "You will never be as sexy and strong as me, Skinny Matty" he added grabbing it very easily and took it out of the machine. Matt could hear small giggles, so when Will released him, he took the stuff from him. "Yes, be a good boy and stay where you belong, with the pathetic!" It was the last he heard from Will.

Matt felt humiliated, teary-eyed, but he wouldn't shed tears in public. He walked the streets trying to get that moment out of his mind.

"Why am I so weak?!" he thought frustrated kicking a pebble. "If only I was stronger, I could be recognized, and people like Will would never walk all over me."

He watched to the right of him as a policeman arrested a thief and the fellow policeman handed the wallet to a lady, who thanked him very much.

He arrived at his house and didn't bother to take a shower to wash off the sweat; on the contrary, he began to do the task that his crush had left him. When taking out the papers and reading the first topic, he couldn't help but sigh at how strict Jacobi used to be sometimes. He started studying and doing his homework, but his inner feelings were blooming so much that he couldn't concentrate. He remembered his missed opportunity with Jacobi, Will's humiliation, and the cop situation.

"If he was someone everyone admired, with incredible abilities, he could be adored by everyone" he thought throwing his hands to his head. "If only he could be someone important... Someone like a hero..."

Like a hero.

Suddenly, the lights in the room went out and a strange green glow illuminated everything for a few moments. Then the light bulbs were on again and where before there were only leaves and school supplies, there was now a mask.

"What the hell just happened?!" Matthew questioned looking everywhere, realizing that the only strange thing was the mask on his desk. "And where did you come from?" he asked as he stood up with the mask in his hands. He was quite curious to it. Turning it over, he instantly noticed a green glow, similar to the one that had occurred seconds ago.

His mind was mesmerized, amazed, as if a light, succulent voice were inviting him to put it on. His desires came to his mind: his love interest, his desire to be someone... he couldn't help but smile. He brought the glowing mask close to his face and felt as if it sucked his face, so he quickly pushed it away.

"What?" He wondered slowly, not taking his eyes off that tempting glow. He seemed to hear a seductive and mischievous whisper that said:

Put me on... put me on...

His breathing was beginning to increase little by little; his tremulous lips parted, as if they wanted to fit the width of the mouth hole. Little beads of sweat ran down his face and, as the distance between the mask and hisface shortened, the bulge between his legs began to harden. His black glasses, which rested on the desk, disappeared for an instant.

Put me on... the voice repeated.

He brought the mask onto his face once more...

And this time he couldn't pull it away.

To be continued.