#i'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop lol

[midnightsgetawaycar]

I'm so behind on my assignments. It's like I'm so ready to do them but my anxiety gets the best of me and then I freeze and just listen to random shit and online shop, except I don't buy anything.

[latenightdaydreams]

Can you please write part of roommate reader? I've hoped it could be a new series 🥺🥺 I'm obsessed with that story lol😩😩😩

yes!! ofc!! 💗

Roommates Part 2 (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 1 Part 3

Master List (✍🏽)

>cw: fem/afab, oral, p in v, squirting, dirty talk

2.3k word count

🏠

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Two weeks have passed since König moved in, since the incident happened. You still haven’t talked to him much other than an awkward “hello” here and there. König has been understanding of your behavior, but he honestly wishes you both could move past it. He was wondering if maybe he should just move out.

Today, as you walk out of your room, the aromatic smell of coffee hits you. You see, König leaning against the sink, wearing only gray sweatpants. In his hand he holds a mug of coffee and in the other his phone as he scrolled on it. His blue eyes look up and land on you. A smile forms on his lips, shoving his cell phone into his pocket.

“Guten Morgen. Would you like some coffee? It just finished brewing.” He smiles and shows off his sharp canines.

“Um, no thanks.” You say awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with him.

Trying to ignore him as you walk to the pantry and grab a box of cereal. Then you hear the cabinet open and you see König grabbing a bowl for you. He holds it out for you and you nod in thanks. As you place it all on the table, you see König opening the fridge to get you the milk.

“You don’t have to do everything for me.”

“I don’t mind.” He looks at you as he places the milk on the table and lingers for a while. “I just feel bad for making you feel uncomfortable in your own home.”

“It- you did nothing wrong. Honestly. I’m just, well, mortified.” You say as you fidget with the flap on the box of cereal.

“You don’t have to be. I understand how awkward it must be for you, but please know I don’t judge you for it. If we could just start over and pretend it never happened, I’d like that a lot.”

König looks at you, waiting to see if you’d accept his offer. His eyes drift to your breasts as you look away, trailing up along the curve of your neck and back to your eyes as you look back at him.

“I’d like that.”

A wide smile creeps across König’s lips. “I’m glad.”

That was the start of a slow developing relationship. Eating breakfast together and chatting before bed became somewhat of a ritual for the both of you. Slowly, you both opened up to each other about life goals and past challenges. Without realizing it, you both have revolved your routines around seeing one another. The last few months together have been the happiest he’s been in decades.

Today, when you got home from work, there was a different vibe in the apartment. You kicked off your shoes and placed your bag down by the door.

König’s blue eyes trail up your body, not caring to be discreet. An open beer sitting on the coffee table in front of him. You both look at each other for a moment before you walk forward to the couch and sit next to him.

“Are you okay?”

König doesn’t respond right away; he leans back into the throw pillows. “I’m getting deployed soon.” His blue eyes meet you again. Usually, he wouldn’t care, but he’s been slowly building a relationship with you and now he is being pulled away from you. You’ve felt like the home he’s wanted all of this time.

“Oh, for how long?” You try to mask the disappointment in your tone.

“Anywhere from six months to a year.”

“That’s a long time.”

“It is.” König’s eyes trail down from your eyes to your lips.

“When do you leave?”

“In three days.” He says, reaching forward for the beer and taking a swig.

Your jaw drops, looking surprised to hear how soon he will leave you. It’s his job, but right now you feel selfish because you want him to stay. You’ll miss his company, miss him.

“The apartment will feel empty without you.” The words flow from your lips with a hint of sorrow.

König forces a small smile. “I really like you.” It was time you both stopped acting like shy teenagers and just got your feelings out there for one another. “I have feelings for you.”

This isn’t recent news to you; you’ve always sort of known he likes you. The way he gazes at you, packs lunches for you, and smiles when he sees you- it’s all very obvious. You’re pretty sure he already knows that you like him, too.

“I have feelings for you, too.”

König’s eyes light up as you confess your feelings are mutual. A smirk comes across his lips. A wave of confidence comes over him as he leans towards you, his hand cupping your face as he places a tender kiss on your lips.

It’s as if sparks go off and travel throughout your whole body as your lips meet. You kiss back eagerly, your lips pressing harder into his as one of your hands moves to his thigh. The feeling of your warm hand makes him shiver.

He slowly pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you. In his mind, he is running through the different ways he can ask you for more. Ask you to wait for him to come back. Give him your body so he can have something to remember while away, other than the mental image you squirting. Months have been wasted because he doesn’t think he’s deserving of you.

You can see the look in his eyes, your hand lightly squeezes his thigh. “Talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

“I want you.” He finally says. You’ll either agree or reject him. It felt as if a lifetime passed before he felt you move your hand up his thigh more.

“I want you too.”

Words aren’t needed anymore. He grabs your waist and brings you on to his lap. His mouth pressing into yours, opening to lick your bottom lip. You accept him into your mouth as your tongues swirl together. His gigantic hands caress your body, one trailing down the curve of your hip and the other under your shirt, climbing up to your bra.

You can feel his erection press into you, small moans leaving both of your lips into each other’s mouths. His hand slips underneath your bra and cups your breast in his hand. Your skin is so warm and soft. A groan leaving his mouth as his fingers pinch your nipple.

König pulls his mouth away from yours and lifts your shirt off of your body. His lips find yours again as he tosses the shirt on the back of the couch. He reaches around your body to unhook your bra as your tongues flick over one another’s. 

He pulls back again and looks down at your glorious breasts. “Wow.” He looks at you, speechless, for a moment. His eyes meet yours as his mouth drifts to your chest. In one hand, he grips your heavy breast and brings it to his mouth. His tongue reaches out and flicks at your nipple. A small whimper leaves your lips before he wraps his lips around your nipple, latching on to it. Your fingers comb through his messy blonde hair as his mouth hungrily goes back and forth between both breasts.

His fingers fidget with the belt you're wearing, trying to pull your bottoms off of you as fast as he can. You assist him and unbutton your pants, lifting your ass so he can pull your pants off of you. Lips leaving your breasts, he lets his gaze roam over your body. He runs his fingers down your thighs. A little of prickly hair, but König couldn’t care less.

“You’re stunning.” He says, his voice lower than a whisper.

König stands with you in his arms, turning to place you on the couch. He lays you back, almost recreating when he walked in on you, masturbating. It’s all he’s been thinking about, fucking you in that position.

“It was a busy day at work.” You say bashfully, worried about your pussy maybe smelling.

“Perfect.” König says as he continues to kiss down your body.

A blush comes across your face as you look down at him kissing all over your belly, under your belly, your hips, and moving down… You let out a pleasured gasp as he kisses your pussy lips. His hands grasping your legs and spreading them apart, placing one over his arm and the other resting on the coffee table. He kisses up and down your pussy without kicking you. His eyes closed as if he was kissing a lover. Breathing in deeply and taking in your raw natural scent.

Finally, his eyes open and make eye contact with you. His fat tongue pressed down on to your pussy and swipes up quickly, parting your folds around his tongue. You taste fucking divine. He lets out a groan once your juices touch his taste buds.

Your hand reaches out to the back of his head, holding him against you. Moans flowing from your lips as he rapidly flicks his tongue over your clit. His free hand slides up your leg to your pussy. One finger circles around the entrance of your vagina. Slowly, he slips it in. His finger curved upwards as he slowly begins to move it in and out of it.

You close your eyes and drop your head back, letting your body fully appreciate the pleasure it’s receiving right now. Legs twitching as his tongue and arm moves faster. One of your hands moves to your nipple. You tug on it, catching König’s attention.

His cock is rock hard in his pants, absent-mindedly grinding his hips into the couch cushion. The moans you make match what he heard that day he walked in on you. A second finger slips in as his eyes watch you closely. Your hand moves from his head and squeezes the pillows behind your head.

“König, I’m going to cum.” Your voice is higher pitched.

“Are you going to squirt for your König?”

“Yes!” Your back arches as your body trembles. “Fuucckkk!”

König gets hit in the face by your squirting. He opens his mouth and drinks you in, finally being able to taste you. Removing his fingers from your pussy, he rubs them over your clit quickly. He shoves his face into your cunt and shakes his head back and forth.

“Fuck you’re amazing.” He growls.

His hands quickly pull down his pants. He pulls his shirt over his head to reveal his scarred body to you. Your eyes trace over his muscular but soft body as he stands and pulls down his boxes. You try to not act surprised seeing how hung he is when deep down inside you’re worried it will hurt.

König kneels on the couch in front of you, pulling your hips to him. He rubs his raw cock against your clit, getting himself covered in your cum. Since he is a big guy, this angle was a little awkward. One leg over his shoulder, the other one resting down, he lowers himself to kiss your lips.

“Beg for my pussy.” You look into his blue eyes.

König is absolutely shocked, but fuck was that hot.

“Please let me fuck your pussy.” He begs almost pathetically. Never has he been put in this position before. “Please I need to feel you.” He whispers, leaning down and kissing your neck softly. His hips rock against you, aching to thrust into you.

“Fuck me.”

König didn’t hesitate, he thrust into you. He watches your face as he does. Your face scrunches as you feel him bottom out inside of you. Shoving his 10-inch cock into you as much as you’ll take. Whimpers leave your lips and your eyes maintain contact with his.

“That’s it, Liebling. You can take me.” His voice is low and sensual. Slowly he pulls back and thrust into you again, harder this time.

“Oh my god! Please fuck me!” You’ve never felt a cock this good before, not even your toys can compare. His hips begin to slam into you.

Pathetic little mewls escape your mouth as your eyes flutter back. A cocky grin appears on his face as he sees you turn from that dominant woman to a cock hungry mess.

“You take my cock so well, meine Kleine Hure.”

Not speaking German, you’re unaware he just called you his little whore, but the tone in his voice excites you. Your eyes stay locked on his as his hips roll into you at a rapid pace. The feeling of your wet pussy wrapping tightly around him is pushing him to the edge.

“I’m going to cum Liebling…” He pants as he leans in to kiss on your neck. His cock begins to throb as he moans loudly, moaning out your name. You caress his body as he lays on you, catching his breath.

König sits up, wrapping his arms around your body to pull you up with him. Your body straddles his lap as you both kiss.

“I want you to be mine. I want to know that I have you to come home to. That your body and mind are mine.” He kisses your cheek softly, waiting for your response.

His words make you pause, you pull away to look into his eyes. You trace each scar that covers his handsome face, trying to memorize him and this moment, knowing he will be leaving soon.

“I’ll wait for you. I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours, Liebling.”

König leans in to kiss your lips again, addicted to the way you taste. Even the way your breath smells. He’s just in love with everything about you.

“What does Liebling mean?”

“Oh, it’s like calling you, my love.”

“That’s really cute.” You giggle and think back to sex. “What does Kleine Hure mean?” The German words come out pronounced terribly, but König understood.

König clears his throat and blushes, “Oh, uh-”

Part 3

[cherryheairt]

Dragon Dreamer pt. III

tags: @beebeechaos

Daenys avoiding her problems per usual

all feedback appreciated <3, I'm unsure how I want to write this longterm, bc the two will have to separate after the wall scene and idk if people would want chapters with just Daenys and no cregan lol

also appearently cregan's actor tom taylor has heterochromia and i think green/blue eyes but for the life of my i cannot find a clear pic of it </3

Daenys woke from her distant dreams only after the sun had risen. While still snowing and freezing outside, Morningstar had done well to warm the pair under her protective wing.

Cregan sat vigil all throughout the night, no complaints coming from the young lord as he did. Protecting the princess was simply a part of his many duties, he mused to himself sometime in the night while she whispered.

She blinked a few times, eyes heavy and body nearly numb. Though warm, she was still only clothed in house slippers and her night dress. A weight around her caught her attention, knowing that Morningstar couldn't wrap herself around Daenys like that.

"You awake, Princess?" A soft voice asked beside her.

Tilting her head up and squinting, "Cregan?" She whispered, voice horse from speaking all night.

"Good morrow, my lady," was all he said, that secret smile of his plastered on his face. She didn't know how to feel. A million things rushed to her mind; shame, humilation, frustration-

He interrupted her thoughts, shuffling to a crouch from his sitting position. Cregan offered her a hand, which she took without thinking. Leading them both out from under Morningstar, Cregan bowed his head respectfully to the she-dragon.

"She allowed you to come near us?" Daenys asked, in awe.

"Aye, I don't know why, exactly. I'm grateful for it, so I will not question a blessing." He told Daenys, reaching down to grab his sword that had been sitting on the snowbank for hours and shouldering it.

"Shall we break our fast, or would you like to sleep?" He turned to her, attentive grey eyes finding her violet ones.

Biting her cheek, she waited for the other shoe to drop. When would he demand answers from their night? Banish her from his house forever and ridding himself of the Velaryon girl.

"You should sleep, Lord Stark. I have kept you from it all night." She decided, looking at the tired expression pulling at his handsome face.

"Sleep often evades me with my duties, this is only another one. I would never sleep again if my Princess asked it of me." He told her, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "The day is new. Will you break fast with me?"

Daenys followed the lord into the dining hall. It was more active than the previous night, bustling with the activity of the Keep's servants. It only took a minute of sitting before their breakfast was in front of them, some light bread and oatmeal. Daenys greedily drank the cold water provided for her, the relief for her throat that had been burning the whole way to the Keep.

Cregan watched the display for a moment, smiling to himself before politely focusing on his food, not watching her pick at her breakfast like the previous night. "Do you want anything else? If you don't like the food, just tell me. No one will take offense, as long as you're fed."

"This is good." Daenys answered shortly. She took small bites of the oatmeal, pulling parts of the bread to slowly chew. She felt like her body was going through the motions completely on its own, her brain firing in a million different directions yet going nowhere at all.

"..Princess?" Cregan asked again, stirring her.

He had been talking for a while, she thought. Daenys hummed, gesturing for him to continue. His meal was done already, how much time had passed?

"I said I would like to take you to Castle Black, if you would allow me."

"The Wall?" Daenys furrowed her brow, placing her spoon into the half-full bowl.

"It would be a two week trip on horseback, and you can see what your predecessors witnessed all those years ago. A reminder of what the North protects the realm from."

In simple terms, he wanted to convince her to take the least amount of men to arms as possible. She was not dull. Perhaps he thought she was, just like the court men. He was talking like a Southerner, now. All hidden meanings and pretty half-truths. Disappointing, truly, Daenys liked the straightforward Stark better.

"I would not oppose a trip to see the Wall. It would be much faster on Morningstar, but I'm sure your council would oppose their lord doing such a thing." She said wryly. Daenys didn't want to become curt with the kind lord, but her displeasure with his words made itself clear in her tone

He grimaced slightly before straightening up, bowing his head politely. "I have some matters to attend to before we depart. I will have some things packed for you. For now, get some rest, we'll leave in the afternoon." He left quickly, and it was then that she noticed his fur coat was missing. She could make out his body shape now, no longer hidden and cloaked by the massive fur. When had he left them?

The weight on her own shoulders as she stood solved that question for her. The familiar brown furs surrounded her like a blanket, warm yet drowning. Was it bear? Or even wolf? Daenys wasn't sure, but her heart beated harder knowing that he had sat with her all night, keeping her safe and warm despite knowing her dragon was perfectly capable.

Daenys settled into her chambers, forgoing slipping under the furs already on her bed in exchange for the fur Cregan had provided her. It smelled like him, a deep wood and iron scent that might have been too strong and unfitting on anyone but the Warden himself. The comfort soothed her to sleep quicker than she had in many moons.

🗡

Strong hands guided Daenys through the courtyard of the Red Keep. Ser Harwin Strong, her mother's sworn protector, had become more of a protector for herself these past few moons.

When the nightmares started, the Red Keep was put ill at ease with the little girl, avoiding her like the plague. While most took after Queen Alicent, avoiding her and gossiping about how the girl must be a witch, condemning people to horrible fates with her predictions, the bolder ones like her uncle Aegon had done the opposite.

Harassments, taunts, planting some of Helena's bugs into her bed, even getting physical when no one was looking. Who would believe the mad girl besides her own mother? The prince, of course, never received any reprimanding or punishment. He always got away with everything, per usual. He had the Queen herself in his corner, who defended his vile behavior even when multiple servant girls came sobbing to the Queen's chambers.

Rhaenyra couldn't bare to watch her only daughter be so tormented, especially by her own family. She instructed Harwin to keep a close eye on her, as her escort and guardian around the keep. He had no qualms with this, of course. The girl was beloved by him and Rhaenyra deeply, though this coddling did not go unnoticed by the royal family.

Daenys' one credit as a child was her silver hair and purple hues, an image of her mother. Her brothers after her were not so lucky, born brown-eyed and brown-haired. Ser Harwin was said to be the sire of Rhaenyra's army of dragon-riding bastards, to the obliviousness of Daenys.

When she grew older, she realized that Alicent was right in that one thing. Harwin Strong undoubtedly fathered the boys. She was unclear about her own father, but Harwin's affections for her never differed from her brothers.

She found herself not minding. Ser Laenor claimed the children as his own and loved her mother as a dear companion. But Harwin's love for Rhaenyra was different than Laenor's. She saw the look in his eyes as he gazed upon the heir, filled with devotion and love unmatched by any other wed couple in the keep. Daenys had only seen such a love displayed by them. Even long after Harwin's death, when Rhaenyra remarried her uncle Daemon, Daenys never saw that look in another man's eyes.

Daemon's love was passionate but possessive. It scared Daenys slightly, but she was happy so long as her mother was safe.

This day, Daenys wished to watch her uncles and brothers training in the yard. Ser Criston Cole usually overlooked the boys' training, leaving much to be desired in terms of favoritism. Much like his Queen, Criston despised the bastard boys. Though the four trained together, Rhaenyra's sons usually only watched as Aegon and Aemond practiced with their wooden swords.

Harwin left Daenys at the steps after a gentle ruffle of her loose hair, where she quietly sat and observed. Glancing at a bench overseeing the yard, Daenys spotted King Viserys also overlooking the morning training.

Harwin spoke a few words to Ser Criston for a moment, inaudible to Daenys but clearly pissing the Dornish knight off. Cole intructed that the eldest boys be placed against each other, though it was unfair.

Harwin's protests were thus ignored by the kingsguard, Daenys perking in her seat to watch Aegon and Jace spar. Quite a poor match, seeing their age and skill difference.

Aegon easily beat Jace, knocking the sword from his hand but not giving his opponent any mercy, still stepping forward to attack the young boy.

Harwin grabbed Aegon in a firm hold, tossing him away from Jacaerys. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" Aegon screeched like a banshee, never being put in his place like that before. Spoiled brat.

Harwin scolded Cole, ignoring the eldest prince intentionally. After lifting Jace from the floor, Harwin glanced over the boy.

"Are you alright?"

Embarrassed, Jace only nodded with flushed cheeks and dusted himself off. "Thank you, Ser." He mumbled.

But Cole did not leave the matter, baiting the older knight. "You forget yourself, that is the prince." He said, a smirk on his tanned face.

"Is that what you teach, Cole? Cruelty." Harwin spat back, picking up the wooden swords from the dirt.

"Your interest in the princeling's training is quite unusual. Most men would only have that kind of devotion toward a cousin. Or a brother." He smiled brighter, "or a son."

Without skipping a beat, Harwin strong turned and swung at Cole's smug face. Again, and again until the man was on the floor and not fighting back.

Daenys stood and gasped, calling out towards her protector. "Ser Harwin!" she rushed forward, being stopped only by Jace and Luke, who could also only watch.

Harwin was dragged off of Cole, still spitting insults at the younger whilst the blood-covered man laughed as if he had won.

Aegon laughed loudly, now the loudest sound in the yard as both knights were escorted inside.

"Seems like the Strong bastards won't be so protected anymore." He snickered with Aemond at his side, loud enough for only the three to hear. Viserys took his leave, too, most likely to go settle the fight.

"We're not bastards!" Jacaerys yelled at him. Daenys and Lucerys were quiet behind him. Jace, though a year younger than Daenys, had taken the mantle of the protective one of the siblinge ever since Daenys had started getting shunned.

She was grateful for it, despite the nagging guilt she had for never defending herself or her little brothers.

"Just look at yourself, Lord Strong. Brown hair...pale skin..brown eyes. Perhaps Rhaenyra isn't your mother, either." Aegon said, earning a half-hearted laugh from Aemond beside him.

Ever the quiet of the two, Aemond faced his own bullying from Aegon and Daenys' brothers for being the only one of them to not claim a dragon. Typically, this made him stay out of any spats between Rhaenyra's children and Aegon, out of fear that he would be the next target.

Surprisingly, he even left Daenys alone. He spent much time with Helena, just as she did. They happened to spend a lot of time together in their youth because of their mutual bond, but they never gained a bond between themselves.

"You take that back!" Jace demanded, stepping foward and shoving at Aegon's chest. Being so much taller than Jacaerys, Aegon barely stepped back, only growing more amused.

"Jace.." Daenys urged behind him, tugging at his armor. "Let's go inside, I want to check on Ser Harwin."

Aegon turned to her now, "Its a mystery who your father might be. Ser Strong, Prince Daemon, Ser Laenor. I've even heard rumor of Rhaenyra having a tryst with Criston Cole at one time. Perhaps the cunt herself doesn't even know who your-" Aegon was abruptly cut off with a punch to his face so hard that he was sent to the floor. Shocked, he looked up expecting Jacaerys to have been the offender, but instead met the furious face of Daenys Velaryon. She didn't give him time to get up, punching and scratching at his pink face.

The other three stood stunned for a few moments, unsure if they wanted to let her continue or pry her off. Even Aemond stifled a laugh with a hand, turning away so Aegon couldn't notice.

Eventually Aegon grew out of his shock, easily throwing the younger girl off of him by her shoulders. Wiping his face, he stood and snarled down at Daenys, lifting a foot to kick at her while she was down, but was stopped and tackled by her two brothers. Now, Aemond choose to defend his older brother against the boys, albeit slightly reluctantly. The Pink Dread prank still heavily weighed on his mind every day.

Guards noticed at this point that the squabble of princes and the princess was no mere play fight, punches and kicks being thrown this way and that. The four of them seperated by forceful hands, given no time to walk themselves as they were dragged inside.

"Keep my mothers name out of your dirty mouth, līve!" She screamed behind her shoulder at the boy, who seemed shocked at the insult coming from her mouth. Jace and Luke, not versed in High Valyrion yet, didn't react, although she heard a snicker from Aemond as he was taken to Viserys with Aegon.

The other three were taken directly to Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra, quietly resting on her settee with little Joffrey coddled up in her arms, was surprised to see all three of her eldest children in such a state. She stood immediately, "what happened?" She asked the guards, handing Joff to the wet nurse and gingerly cradling her children's bruised faces.

"The princess and princes got into an altercation in the yard. Ser Harwin and Cole have also been sent to the King for their actions." One said, before being dismissed by Rhaenyra.

"I want the truth of it, now." She sternly told them, stress furrowing her brows.

"Ser Harwin beat up Cole." Luke said first, giving no context.

"Because Cole called us bastards." Jace continued, clearing it.

Rhaenyra sighed, putting a hand over her stomach, which Daenys noticed became a habit during her pregnancies as a way to calm herself.

"If Harwin is the one who fought Cole, why are you three all bruised up?"

Daenys avoided her eyes, earning a lifted brow from her mother. Jace stepped in to help, "Aegon started it! He called you.." He seemed to pause now too, not wanting to shame his mother with Aegon's vileness.

The three shared glanced between themselves, not guilty for fighting Aegon but guilty for not defending their mother's honor better. "He called you a cunt. And implied dishonorable actions." Daenys told her, biting her cheek hard after. Her face hurt.

Rhaenyra only sighed, bringing her children to her side to embrace them all. She breathed in to start a surely long speech, but Harwin entering the room disrupted that plan. Daenys was grateful for it.

He closed the chamber doors behind himself, gold Lord Commander's cloak was no longer wrapped over his shoulders. His armor was also off, as if he was taking a leisure day.

"Harwin?" Rhaenyra spoke, confused as to why he was visiting in such a state.

"I am being assigned back to Harrenhall with my father. The King has let me go from my time as Lord Commander." Was his answer. Pretty words for 'fired' from his duty. Just for defending the princes and their mother.

Rhaenyra gasped, hand bringing itself once again to hover over her stomach. "For what offence?" She demanded. Her eyes were glossy with tears, but she could not let herself cry. Princesses do not cry over losing their guards.

Daenys knew then, that they were not merely protector and princess. They were husband and wife, in all but name. Harwin looked down at Rhaenyra with all the softness in the realm. "It is my own fault, I lost my temper." The two stood to the side for a minute, whispering amonst themselves. Daenys respectfully looked away, finding Jace staring them down intensely.

Harwin held Rhaenyra's face for only a moment, tender and bittersweet as they couldn't do anything more to say their goodbyes.

He turned to the children, "Luke, Jace. Keep up with your training, do not let Cole or the princes bully you out from improving. You will be fine knights." He smiled at them proudly, petting each of their heads and turning to Daenys.

Tears welled in her eyes, falling down her cheeks freely. She was not as strong as her mother, unable to control her feelings. "Ser.." She sobbed, barreling into his chest and burying her face into the tunic's material. Gently he held her, soothing her hair down from the mess it had became in the yard. "Don't fret, my dear girl. I will not be gone forever."

The smell of fire invaded her senses as he said that, a suffocating feeling enveloping her as she continued to cry. "I don't want you to leave at all." She told him.

"He must, we cannot change the will of the king." Rhaenyra said from behind her, rubbing her back soothingly. Harwin and Rhaenyra shared another heavy look, both knowing how much Daenys relied on Harwin.

Harwin had to break the princess off of him eventually, pressing a tender kiss to her temple as he did. "I will be a stranger when we meet again.' He told Rhaenyra, who only nodded and smiled solemnly at him.

Harwin Strong took his leave from the Red Keep that day, and never returned to his family.

Jace watched the man walk away, down the hall. "Is Harwin Strong my father?" He asked Rhaenyra stiffly. "Are we bastards?"

Rhaenyra swiftly looked around for any onlookers, relieved to find none. "You are Targaryens. That's what matters," she whispered firmly.

Daenys only stared at the space Harwin had once been, wishing things could stay the same forever.

"I am going to bed," she told her mother.

She wished she had not.

🗡

"My Lady?" The maid from yesterday evening woke Daenys from her deep sleep. Groggily she sat up, stretching out her stiff muscles. The cold affected her more than she thought. "Lord Stark is ready to depart. We have packed all the things you will need for the trip, I just need to get you ready."

Daenys was too tired to talk, only nodding along and allowing the older maid to dress her and do her hair. Pulled in a simple half-up braid, Daenys groaned at the thought of having to do her own braids while in the wilderness. The dress she was put in was a light blue, lined with white fur, softer than any she had felt before.

"All done, princess. He's waiting in the hall for you." She patted Daenys' shoulder in a motherly way, sending the girl off to the dining hall.

Daenys grabbed his fur coat before leaving, finding him standing in front of the hearth silently. He perked up when he spotted her, smiling almost instinctively. "Princess," he nodded. "Ready to leave?"

It was only then that she noticed a giant wolf at his feet, staring at her with bright blue eyes, contasting its brown fur. A direwolf, it must be. Tamed by the Stark? Their sigil seemed to ring true, just like the Targaryen's.

"As I'll ever be." She answered evenly, slightly looking forward to the trip. She'd never been on such a journey, only ever riding horseback for short distances and never once staying outside for more than a night. It would be interesting. "And who's this?"

"Dusk. He mostly stays outside, but I figured we could use his protection on our travels." Cregan gestured to the wolf. He seemed wild in most ways, Daenys would guess that he was when he was on his own, but Cregan being bonded to him and accustoming the animal to human domestication. Quite like the Targaryens and their dragons.

"I'm happy to have him, as long as he can get along with Morningstar." She smiled.

Hopefully she can find common ground with Lord Stark, gaining more men for the Queen.

Cregan offers Daenys his arm, which she takes as he guides her to their readied horses. "I picked out this one for you. He's a young stud, but he reminded me of Morningstar." Daenys felt her heart skip a beat when he said that, the thoughtfulness of the aftion making her smile brightly. She released his arm to pet the horse's snow-white face, greeting it.

"Thank you, my lord. He's beautiful." She said.

"Of course, princess." He kept his eyes on her a moment longer, before offering his hand again to help her mount. After adjusting herself on the saddle, Cregan mounted his own horse, a pretty chestnut mare.

Winterfell gave the two a cheerful goodbye parting, Daenys had to resist rolling her eyes. The same commonfolk who had gossiped about her yesterday were eagerly waving hankerchiefs at her and wishing their beloved princess well.

Cregan seemed amused by her stiff jaw as they walked past the gates. "Do you know what the folk call you?" He asked.

"I could think of a hundred names I've been called. None of them pleasent." She replied, eyeing him.

Above them, Morningstar glided gleefully, happy to be traveling again although she didn't know the destination.

Chuckling, he shook his head. "The Dragon Dreamer."

Stunned, she turns to look straight at him, finding his attention fully on her still.

"I..don't see why." She blushed. Never before had her visions been painted in a positive light of any kind.

"Northerners aren't so out of tune with the magic of this realm, as other kingdoms are. Have you ever heard of wargs?"

"A few times, in fairytales." She sniffed.

He nodded, "do you not believe in them?"

"Anything could be true. In a world where I ride a dragon, who am I to deny other types of magic?" She offered.

"Aye. My ancestors have dealt with magic since the first men. Stuff you wouldn't believe, out beyond the wall."

"What's beyond the wall?"

"Death."

🗡

alicent hightower you ARE the father

Līve - whore

[thelovelylolly]

can i get number 26 “can you picture it? you and I together?” with eddie munson please?

Pictures

Summary: While going through your polaroid pictures, Eddie let's his real feelings slip Warnings: none (just not proofread lol) Word Count: 760 Notes: first eddie fic in a hot second, but thank u for the request !

Your box dedicated to polaroids was overflowing. You decided to clear some out, knowing that some of them were of people who weren't in your life anymore or they didn't develop right. You dumped all of them out on your bed and started to sift through them all.

That's when Eddie dropped by. Well, 'dropped by' meaning he crawled in through your window and almost gave you a heart attack even though you were used to him coming in your window at random times.

"Hey, Eds. What's up?" You asked, smiling as he fixed his jacket.

"Eh, nothing much. Thought I'd come see what you're up to," he answered, his gaze quickly falling to the giant pile of polaroids in front of you. "Woah, what are you up to?"

You giggled as he sat down next to you on your bed, making sure to take his shoes off before bringing his legs up.

"I'm clearing out my polaroids. My box was getting full," you replied.

"But they're all memories! You can't get rid of them!" He said, picking up a random polaroid. It wasn't well developed, but you could make out you and Eddie in cliche ghost-sheet costumes. You two wore those stupid sheets to sneak into a Halloween party neither of you were invited to, and it surprisingly worked.

You took the polaroid and put it back in the box with the rest you were keeping, the box nearly halfway full. "I gotta figure something out then."

You got back to work, ignoring the way Eddie's eyes stayed on you. You could feel his gaze on you, then quickly go away. You weren't bothered that he would look at you when you weren't looking at him, in fact, you wanted it. You liked it and how it left butterflies in your stomach and you face warm.

Eddie looked over the pile, a photo strip standing out to him. He picked it up and held it closer, quickly realizing where and when it was taken. It was late August and the state fair was in town. There was a photo booth with a huge line, but you wanted to get a picture with Eddie regardless of the wait time. You two stood in line with your greasy fried food and cotton candy, and when you finished it, it was your turn.

You and Eddie had to squeeze inside the tight booth, but you two made it work. You slipped the five dollars in and you both laughed as you tried to come up with different poses. The last picture on the strip had you smiling so wide, Eddie was sure your cheeks were hurting afterwards. In the picture, he saw himself looking at you with the most lovesick gaze he'd even seen.

Was he always that obvious?

"Can you picture it?" He asked out of the blue. "You and I together?"

You giggled. "We are together-"

"No, I mean like, together together."

You both set the pictures you had in your hands down and looked at each other. You could see the pink on his cheeks and you could feel your own cheeks heating up. You smiled at him, the same smile you had in that photo booth.

"Well, then I guess I'll have to get another box for polaroids of us," you answered.

Eddie reached out and cupped your cheeks, smashing his lips to yours. You were both giggling and the kiss was messy, but it was good. It was quick, too, the two of you pulling away with huge smiles on your faces.

"Oh, wait!" You quickly said, an idea popping into you head. You pushed yourself from you bed and hurried to your desk. You grabbed your polaroid camera, checking the film inside as you made your way back to Eddie on your bed.

You sat next to him and handed him your camera. "Here, hold it out and aim it at us."

"Whatever you say sweetheart," he replied, a smile still on his face as he did as you said.

You wrapped your arms around him and right before he hit the button to take the picture, you pressed your lips to his cheek. A quick flash happened, then you pulled away. Eddie handed the camera back to you and you both waited for the picture to print and develop.

When it did, it was perfect. Eddie's big, boyish smile and you giving you a smiling kiss on the cheek.

"I think this is my new favorite picture," you said.

"I think it's mine, too, sweetheart."

[libraryofgage]

PJO Steddie Seven

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six

PJO show is living rent free in my head everyone. I love that funky little fantasy show

Anyway, welcome to part 7, where we learn more about some of the kids' powers, get a peek into Steve's growing troubles with his powers, and Steddie get a fun little development too

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

Oh! And a meme, another meme for you at the end lol

---------

While the kids have no problem adjusting to Camp Half-Blood and making friends (several of the other campers have asked El to freeze them if only because they think it's funny), Steve runs into a few bumps. He's not used to relaxing. He's not used to letting his guard down and having the children out of sight for so long. And he's definitely not used to his powers feeling beyond his control whenever Eddie is around, which is...well, always.

Don't get Steve wrong. He likes being around Eddie. In fact, he looks forward to it. Steve hasn't smiled or laughed this much or been around someone his own age in a while. It's new and kind of weird and just a little scary.

But it doesn't at all help with his growing nervous energy. He keeps waiting for a shoe to drop, quickly followed by another. It never does, and Steve fully realizes what a problem this is when Eddie is in his room one day and casually says, "Your clouds are different."

Steve blinks, looking over at Eddie in one of the chairs. He has a guitar in his lap, idly strumming as Steve's phone plays music for them. Steve had just been nodding off, feeling relaxed and sleepy when Eddie spoke. "What do you mean?" he asks.

"They changed again." Eddie says, frowning slightly as he points at the clouds drifting along the ceiling. They're a slate color now, not exactly brewing up a storm but looking ready to start pouring down on them. They aren't gloomy, though. It's more like...like the tension you feel when a natural disaster is about to strike and the clouds are the only warning you'll get of its arrival. "They were starting to turn white, but they're grey again."

"Oh," Steve says, flopping back on the bed with a sigh. "They're supposed to reflect my mood."

He hears the chair shift and steps coming closer to the bed before Eddie sprawls across the mattress next to him. "What's got you so grey, sweetheart?" he asks. Their hands aren't touching, but Steve can feel that now-familiar buzz at his fingertips, the little arches of lightning begging to reach out if he'd only let them.

Steve curls his fingers into a fist, refusing to succumb to the urge. He considers lying, just brushing off the question, but then he makes the mistake of looking at Eddie. He looks right into Eddie's brown eyes, and his resolve crumbles. His fist uncurls, their fingertips brush, and he allows a harmless spark to pass between them. "I'm just on edge," he says, looking back at the ceiling and watching the clouds. "Restless, I guess."

"You're used to fighting monsters and moving across the country, Stevie," Eddie says, sliding his hand closer to Steve's so their fingers are tangled together and a current begins to pass between them. "Being all...still is getting to you."

"Yeah, no shit," Steve says with a quiet snort. "Can't do anything about it."

"Well...there is Capture the Flag next week," Eddie points out, shifting closer, like their hands aren't enough. Now their arms and shoulders are pressed together, and Steve inexplicably feels some of that nervous energy disappear, like Eddie is taking it from him. "It can be an all-out bloodbath, you know."

Steve huffs softly, getting a wry smile. "I'm not sure anyone's gonna want to be on my team," he says. The other campers avoid him. Despite his best efforts, his attack on the patrol campers spread fast and mean, and everyone is a little wary. "So, unless I can be on a team by myself, it probably isn't gonna happen."

A few beats of silence pass, and Steve is about to assume he's somehow fucked up the conversation when Eddie says, "You wouldn't be alone. There's me. And the kids. And I could get the Hermes Cabin to partner with you. Plus, you know, you're a Zeus kid, Stevie. You ask to be in charge and nobody's gonna argue."

He...hadn't thought of that. Steve frowns slightly, letting the idea turn in his mind. It would be a challenge, of course, especially if all the other cabins decide to team up. But...a challenge means pushing himself, reaching limits he's never come close to, letting go completely and losing himself in the battle, whether he wins or not.

The clouds above them start to roll, broiling with the energy of a storm that's all thunder and lightning, and excitement surges through Steve. He doesn't even realize he's letting it get the better of him until Eddie yelps and jerks his hand away.

Steve blinks, jerking up and reaching out to Eddie but stopping halfway. "I'm sorry," he says, frowning slightly as he watches Eddie look at his hand. "I'm really sorry. Are you hurt?"

"No, no, it was more...," Eddie trails off, and then he gets an obnoxious grin and looks up at Steve. "It was more the shock of it."

A beat passes before Steve groans, grabs his pillow, and whacks Eddie in the face with it. Eddie dramatically falls back on the bed, lamenting Steve's cruelty and superior fighting skills as Steve laughs. When Eddie finally stops hamming it up, he pushes the pillow away and says, "So, I'd guess you're excited?"

Steve rolls his eyes, his cheeks hurting from smiling. "I...have an idea already, yeah," he says, looking at Eddie and leaning closer. "Wanna hear it?"

"Hell yeah," Eddie says, his eyes lighting up as Steve lays it all out.

And so begins a week of planning.

It's a week (most of which was spent convincing the Hermes Cabin to join his team and agree to just sit back and guard the flag) that leaves Steve buzzing with energy on the day of Capture the Flag. Eagerness makes his limbs tingle and his body beg to pace as he looks over the demigods in front of him. It's just the Hermes Cabin, Eddie, and the kids, meaning they're facing off against the rest of the camp.

He can't blame the Hermes kids for looking like they've already been defeated. The only reason they're still hanging around, Steve is sure, is because he and the kids promised to do all of their chores for two months if they lose.

Steve takes a deep breath, rolls his shoulders back, and consciously lets go of the Mist around him. He's used to holding it close, using it to cover himself and make him look, well, weaker, that he has to purposefully send it off. He knows the moment it's completely abandoned him; the demigods all stand straighter, only the kids and Eddie dare to meet his eyes, and the snakes poking through the hole in El's beanie start tasting the air with interest.

"You've put your faith in me," Steve says, his volume normal but his voice still booming in the otherwise silent clearing. "You probably think we're fucked, but you'd be wrong. So, listen up. I will be offense. Eddie, Will, and El will be extraction. And you, with the strength of numbers, will be defense. Guard this flag with your life, and we will win. If any of the enemy manages to slip past me, hold steady. You are the final line of defense. Your job is the most important, and I expect you to give it your all."

The hesitant expressions have become impassioned, if not a bit confused by the fact. Steve grins at them, feeling the air crackle between his teeth as his excitement grows. He exhales sparks, his fingers buzzing and his skin close to bursting.

Steve doesn't often pray to Zeus. He's never felt a need to, and several goddesses have made themselves better known to him. But now, as excited for the fight as he is, Steve thinks to Zeus, If you've never watched me before, then watch me now.

He puts on his Blue-Team helmet, the distant horn ringing in his ears as the lightning floods through him, and heads into battle.

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

Eddie's role is simple: keep El and Will from getting hurt. He'd be offended at the simplicity if he weren't already plenty aware of his inability to fight well. He's built for defense and retreat, which is why he's got his shield at the ready and is preparing himself to jerk the kids back at the slightest hint of danger.

They're crouching behind some dense bushes, Will and El peeking through the gaps at some Red-Team campers, the first line of defense for the red flag. "So, what's the plan?" Eddie whispers, shifting slightly as he looks between the two kids. Thunder rumbles, and it takes every shred of Eddie's self-control to not look at the gathering storm clouds above them.

"Will makes them daydream," El whispers back, her beanie squirming as though the snakes can feel their imminent freedom. "If that does not work, I will turn them to stone."

Eddie slowly nods, glancing at Will as he cups his hands to his mouth and whispers unintelligible words into them. "And, uh, how is making them daydream supposed to help with distractions?" he asks.

"They are very strong daydreams," El replies.

Will finishes whispering, and a purple dust-like swirling mist is nestled in his palms. He nods to El, waiting for her to carefully make a larger opening in the leaves before gently blowing the mist from his hands. Eddie watches as it twists and curls around the Red-Team campers, slipping under their sleeves and floating to their ears and eyes. The mist settles there, a thin and nearly imperceptible film that Eddie wouldn't know to see if he hadn't watched Will make it.

A few seconds pass as the campers slowly relax, their grips on their weapons loosening until a few swords fall to the ground. El waits a few more seconds before picking up a sizeable pebble and throwing it at a tree across from them. Despite making a loud thud when it hits and falls to the ground, none of the campers blink or move an inch. The only movement Eddie can see is a slight sway and the occasional twitch of fingers, like their body is trying to follow through on movements they make in their daydreams.

"Metal," Eddie whispers, keeping pace with El and Will as they move out from behind the bush. If everything is this easy, they'll get back in time to see Steve fighting. Eddie would love if he could see Steve fighting again. "How did you do that?"

Will flushes slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's not a lot, really," he says, his voice quiet and a little embarrassed. "I mean, I just use dream-speak to give the daydreams specific emotions and then send it over."

"Dream-speak?"

"You know how you can't read in dreams? And if you try to remember exact conversations, you can only get snippets or a word or two? That's dream-speak," Will explains. He thinks for a few seconds before adding, "It's, um, supposed to feel intangible."

"How long does it last?"

"Usually," El says, her voice soft as she pauses and gestures for Eddie and Will to follow, "around twenty minutes. But it depends on the person." She leads them to large boulder, all of them ducking behind it in time for some Red-Team campers to walk by.

"Holy shit," one of them says, looking in the distance at the gathering storm clouds as she slows down. "Man, I am fucking glad we're not fighting that Zeus kid."

"No kidding," the other mumbles. "He's a monster."

Eddie has heard plenty of people call Steve a monster in the past week. Most of them say it with awe in their voices, unable to find any other word to describe the sheer power they saw from Steve. But others, like the one here, say it like Steve is a monster for them to defeat for the glory of it.

He clenches his jaw, grip on his shield straps tightening some. Before he can do anything, El reaches up to her beanie, and Will slaps a hand over Eddie's eyes. He hears the hiss of a writhing mass of snakes, aborted shouts, and then nothing. When Will takes his hand away, the two campers are statues, shock and terror contorting their expressions. El, with her beanie back in place, considers them for a moment before turning. "We should keep moving."

Eddie doesn't argue, but he does hold up a fist to El, grinning when she slowly bumps it with her own. She then turns to Will, her expression expectant, and she flashes her own tiny smile that matches Will's when their fists gently bump together.

Of every game Eddie has participated in, this game of Capture the Flag is by far his most relaxed. Will and El seem to have plenty of experience sneaking around and launching sneak-attacks. The closest Eddie gets to seeing any kind of action is when a Red-Team camper happens to stumble across them on their way back from the bathroom. Even then, before Eddie can raise his shield to block their sword, El slides in front of him and rips off her beanie.

"Thanks," he says, keeping his gaze away until the beanie is back on.

"You are welcome," El replies, staying quiet for a few seconds before adding, "Steve would be sad if you got hurt."

With that statement dropped on him, she continues leading the way to the Red-Team base. By the time they reach it, several Red-Team campers have been deployed to support the other campers fighting Steve. Between those, the ones stationed on the other side of the forest, and the campers they've disposed of, only twenty remain to guard the flag.

"I'm surprised the Athena kids aren't more prepared for you," Eddie whispers, glancing at El. She's the kind of secret weapon everyone knows about and prepares for, but he hasn't seen any of that so far.

El glances at Eddie, considering her response for a few moments before looking at Will. When he nods, she says, "I have not told Steve, but the Head Camper for Athena approached me two days ago. She offered me a personally-designed weapon if I did not use my powers during the game."

"El agreed," Will says, picking up the explanation with ease, "and promised not to use her powers to steal the flag."

"I am not stealing the flag," El finishes, a proud smile tugging at her lips, "I am capturing it."

"You're a little devil, you know that?" Eddie asks, grinning brightly.

"No. I am a little gorgon."

-----

They leave a garden of statues in their wake, and El takes a few moments to sigh and say it's not as good as her mother's before they leave with the Red-Team flag carefully hidden under Will's shirt. As they approach the border between the team territories, the sounds of battle grow. Swords clash, fighters shout, and lightning cracks between them all.

"We can take the long way," Eddie offers, his tone reluctant as he glances in the direction of the fight. They're close enough that a few trees are singed on the edges from lightning strikes, and Eddie holds his shield tighter. Letting the kids get anywhere near that fight isn't protecting them, and he should direct them in a wide circle around it.

But something is calling him, urging him closer to the fight in a way he's never felt before. He's not an Ares kid---Eddie has no desire to enter a blood bath---but he gets the feeling that Steve is going to need him soon.

"El and I can make it by ourselves," Will offers. "It's only a few feet away, and the game ends once we cross, right?"

Eddie nods, frowning before taking a deep breath. "No, it's okay," he says, waving for the kids to keep moving. "We'll try to head straight through and end the game sooner."

It's a choice he was expecting to regret, but doesn't get the chance. Nobody notices them, even when they get close enough to see a swarm of Red-Team campers surrounding Steve. None of them glance in their direction, too distracted by the fight to spare any attention to three insignificant campers sneaking by. Thunder rumbles endlessly above them, a deafening soundtrack that's only broken by cracks of lightning striking the ground and knocking campers back a few feet.

"Steve is having fun," El observes, sounding happy for him as they approach the Blue-Team border.

"He's never really let go, huh?" Eddie asks, getting a quick peek at Steve through the swarm. He lost his helmet at some point, leaving his feral expression and static-raised hair in full view, and arches of lightning jump across his body, occasionally reaching out to strike any Red-Team campers that get too close.

"No," Will says, his voice soft as they approach the border. The moment Will steps over, the horn sounds in the distance, and Eddie waits for the fighting to stop.

But it doesn't. Nobody in the swarm seems to realize the game is over. They continue to attack Steve, and Steve continues to fight against them, the air churning and sparking and ready to burst. A few seconds pass before Eddie realizes they won't stop until only one side is left standing. He gets it. Kind of. Steve carries the air of royalty; a challenge. If you can beat the son of Zeus, a literal Prince of Olympus, the glory of that achievement is untold. And it seems his fellow campers have fallen prey to that glory, utterly lost to it

Eddie feels that urge to join Steve surge through him again. He swallows around a sudden lump of nerves in his throat, searching for any other peek at Steve he can get as he says, "You guys go ahead. I'll help Steve. We'll catch up."

He doesn't bother waiting for El or Will to answer. He just rushes into the battle, something he never expected himself to do. Somehow, he doesn't meet any resistance. Lightning strikes the ground around him, pushing Red-Team campers back and urging him on, and Eddie wonders if Steve knows he's coming.

When he finally reaches the center of the battle, he sees Steve swing his bat against someone's side, the nails dragging painfully before he kicks the person back. Steve has lost his chest plate as well, and the only armor he has left are the wrist guards. There are slashes in his clothes and the edges are burnt. Eddie is almost distracted by the sight until he sees a daughter of Ares rush Steve from behind, her sword raised to bring down on his back.

In a move of unprecedented grace (seriously, Eddie will look back on that moment and never understand how he managed to not trip over himself), Eddie springs into the battle. He rushes at Steve, sliding behind him, twisting, and raising his shield in one smooth movement. The sword comes down on his shield, sending vibrations down his arm but otherwise causing no harm to him or Steve. Eddie pushes back as hard as he can, sending the daughter of Ares sprawling before pressing his back to Steve's.

"Thanks," Steve says, his words crackling and sparking against Eddie's ear. He thinks it's just a phantom sensation at first, but Eddie soon realizes lightning is literally arching between them, jumping across their shoulders and through their hair and buzzing down Eddie's chest.

He licks his lips, electric ozone lingering on his tongue, and Eddie is fascinated by the taste. "No problem," he says, his body following Steve without thinking. It's easy when he can feel the bolts of lightning between them start to shift, telling him which way Steve is going so he can keep up. "You know the game is over, right?"

"This is the most fun I've had in years," Steve replies, his tone implying that should explain everything.

And, yeah, it kind of does. He sounds genuinely happy and thrilled, his voice teeming with eagerness that's punctuated by the sound of his bat hitting a Red-Team camper in the head hard enough to make their helmet ring.

Eddie knows Steve would stop if he asked. Eddie knows he could talk Steve down from this lightning-fueled battle high. Eddie decides that wouldn't be nearly as fun.

"Okay," he says, pressing closer to Steve's back and blocking an arrow headed straight for Steve's shoulder. "Have fun, sweetheart."

Eddie didn't know it was possible, but Steve's power surges again, like it was just simmering under his skin, waiting for permission. And Eddie gave it. Bolts strike from the clouds above while arches jump across Steve and Eddie, running down their arms and leaping at Red-Team campers who get too close. They don't stop; the lightning continues to jump from camper to camper, electrocuting whoever it touches, and Eddie realizes he should have been electrocuted, too.

He blocks another sword, lightning crackling along the edges of his shield and shooting off sparks when its hit, and looks at the white-blue arches running along his arm. Without thinking, Eddie touches one, a gentle buzzing spreading through his hand as the arch transfers and jumps around his palm. It tickles more than anything else, and Eddie would think it's harmless if a Red-Team spear didn't get close enough for the lightning to jump and shock the camper unconscious.

It's not that the lightning jumping between him and Steve is harmless, Eddie realizes, it's just that it won't hurt him. He feels like some of the lightning has settled in his chest, crackling and warm and soothing. Eddie glances over his shoulder, taking in Steve's breathless smile and the way light splashes across his face with each bolt that hits the ground and the sparks that jump from his bat.

That feeling he got when he first saw Steve, the breathlessness and awestruck realization that the whole prophecy was just him, hits Eddie all over again. He lingers in it for a few seconds, letting it wash over him and settle in his limbs, before getting yanked out by a particularly close lightning bolt that makes his ears ring.

Right. A fight. That he's part of.

Eddie forces himself to focus on defending Steve's back. He blocks arrows and swords and shields and, once, a battle axe that makes his shield groan. That one pisses him off some. This shield was a gift from Hermes, a gift that showed surprising knowledge of Eddie's interests, and he'll be damned if it breaks. As though fueled by his anger, the lightning on his shield crackles and shoots down the battle axe, converging on the camper until she drops the axe with a yelp.

He doesn't get to linger on that too long; another arrow comes straight at Steve again, and Eddie is far more occupied by blocking it. And so it continues. Steve fights, lightning strikes, and Eddie defends him the entire time, giving Steve the space and security to just let go and release all the energy that had been building since he arrived at camp.

It's over sooner than he expects. One moment, Eddie's arm is buzzing from a particularly strong hit to his shield, and the next, the field is silent. Thunder still rumbles above them, lightning still crackles around them, and Eddie's heartbeat is pounding in his ears. Campers are scattered around them, all breathing but most knocked out for a while. Eddie takes a deep breath, feeling the air spark harmlessly in his lungs, and slowly lets it out.

He rolls his shoulder and retracts his shield, placing it around his neck again before turning around. "You good?" he asks, looking Steve over for any obvious injuries. His clothes are even more singed, the hem of his shirt blackened, and his hair is sticking up wildly but still somehow perfect. Steve's tense, his muscles strained as he pants, looking around them before his gaze finally lands on Eddie. He's still gripping his bat tightly, his knuckles white, and Eddie is about to gently pull it away when Steve just drops it.

Eddie blinks, frowning slightly as he starts to ask Steve if he's okay. And then he can't speak at all, because Steve's hands are cupping his cheeks and Steve's chest is pressed against his own, and Steve's lips are thoroughly occupying his. Lightning shoots through Eddie, jumping down his throat as Steve's tongue licks past his lips.

It doesn't hurt, though. Nothing from Steve could actually hurt him; instead, it makes his fingers tingle and his lips buzz and his heart jackrabbit against his ribs. Eddie is filled with an inescapable energy, and there's only one way to expel it.

So, he kisses Steve back. Eddie wraps an arm around Steve's waist to tug him closer and pushes a hand into Steve's hair, finally feeling the soft strands tangling between his fingers. He tilts his head and lets Steve have the quiet groan that slips from him when tiny bolts jump from Steve's molars to Eddie's tongue.

Eddie is breathless and floating and completely under Steve's spell and...and...and he's confused. Because Steve yanks himself away, a panicked noise in the back of his throat as he takes a step back. His chest is still heaving, but Eddie knows it's for a different reason now. Steve starts to say something, his lips swollen and red and begging Eddie to kiss him again, but no words come out.

And then he does something Eddie never expected Steve to do. He runs. He panics so badly that he runs back toward the Blue-Team base, leaving Eddie in the middle of the Red-Team carnage with a floaty brain and a stupid smile.

Maybe, if it had been anyone else, Eddie would be panicking, too. He'd be worried about the person actually liking him, worried about what the kiss meant, worried about any number of things, really. But it's Steve. Eddie knows Steve. He knows Steve's laugh and his walk and his lightning and now his kiss.

There are only two possible reasons for Steve running away: either he panicked because the kiss was too sudden, too heat-of-the-moment, or he panicked because of the literal lightning he sent through Eddie. Both are easily addressed, easy to soothe Steve down from freaking out about so they can get to kissing again.

Eddie's smile widens some, and he takes one last look at the campers around him before carefully making his way past them, figuring he should tell Chiron they'll be needing ambrosia and nectar.

-------

Tag List

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For those who made it this far, a meme:

[blues824]

ASDFGHJLLCNDLWMSNSCJJDLWKEMAMAMXNCBCJDJAOWIRJDKDK IM SO EXCITED FOR FLUFF-CEMBER OMGGGGGG!!!!!

(also, Lowkey so flattered that you consider me a ✨mutual✨ because you are an INCREDIBLE fanfic writer~)

Okay, so, Hear 👏 Me 👏 Out 👏! The Scarabia Boys and maybe Ruggie (or one of the other boys from the savannah) for prompt 28..... But what if it was reversed???? Because I'm someone that's from an area that has really cold and long winters, so I'm pretty good at spotting or catching myself on black ice..... But these guys from hot desert areas??? I just /know/ they haven't gotten used to the ice and snow yet-

But I'm just spit balling! Feel free to stick to the original, cuz it's still pretty cute!! Can't wait to read all the beautiful, adorable, amazing fics that come from this event!!!! Make sure not to overwhelm yourself or get burnt out. Take plenty of breaks and remember we can always wait an extra day or two lol 💋✨💋💕💖💘❤️🥰😍🥳🌹🫶🫰🌹🥴

I HOPE YOU HAVE FUN WRITING AND I CANT WAIT TO SEE WHAT YOU DOOOOOOOOOO~~

Of course!!! You’ve commented on a few of my works, so I figured you might like to be included in the event lol. Also, I would be in their shoes, because I am from a hot desert area lol.

You requested: Being Caught Slipping on Ice [Reversed]

Ruggie Bucchi

He had absolutely no idea what he was thinking, being on the ice. This man has a vice grip on your arms as you both go to Sam’s Shop. The sidewalk and grass have become icy because it has been raining for the past few days, and the temperature has dropped significantly. Savanaclaw isn’t this cold, and he’s bundled up pretty well.

There was one spot that was a tad wet, still frozen in ice, and he wasn’t paying attention. You felt him let go of your arm, and you turned to see that he was falling backwards. Worried about him hitting his head, you quickly slid on your knees so that his head would land in your lap.

“Is it just me, or did an angel come down and save me?”

Real smooth, bro. You rolled your eyes and smiled, making sure that he was alright and helping him back up, going to place a kiss on his cheek which made him smile. He reciprocates by moving just in time for you to accidentally land it on his lips, and he snickered as you rolled your eyes once again.

Kalim Al-Asim

His homeland is literally the Scalding Sands. If you think he knows how to handle snow, you would be mistaken. However, he has a very positive outlook on it. It’s a free Slip-n’-Slide, or he gets to be a penguin sliding on his stomach. When it comes to having to walk, however, he is at a loss. One step and he’s already fallen. He needs one of those walkers that people use when skating.

Watching you walk across the black ice so easily made him feel so amazed, and he thought that if he copied you exactly, he would be fine. He was wrong, and he fell back almost immediately. Before he hit the ground, however, he felt an arm wrap around his waist. He looked up to find you, with a worried look on your face.

“Thank you, Y/N! You saved me!”

The smile on his face made any memory of scolding him dissipate as you made sure that he was steady. You then taught him how to properly walk on the black ice, as there was a particular method to it. Making sure your body was straight and stepping down so that the sole of your foot was flat against the ground, and it was weird to get used to, but at least he didn’t fall more than he did.

Jamil Viper

His homeland is the Scalding Sands as well. However, he knows how to handle snow more than Kalim does. He was prepared when he got accepted into NRC. But, nothing could prepare him for the ice that forms on the grass and on the sidewalks. After all, his sports training takes place in a gymnasium, so the temperature is warm and controlled by a thermostat. 

So, when he invited you to come play on an outside basketball court, you laughed when he realized that it had a bit of ice on the ground. Because you used to live somewhere with a cold climate, you were familiar with playing a certain way so that you wouldn’t slip and fall. He was not, and after a few moments, he slipped. Luckily, you slid behind him so that you could hold him up.

“Thank you, Y/N. I guess I have not acclimated quite yet to the ice…” He said, a bit embarrassed.

You shrugged and said it was all alright, and that you could do it because you lived somewhere cold. You taught him how to walk and run on the ice, and that he needed to have his hands out of his pockets at all times so he could catch himself. It was good advice even if it wasn’t freezing outside, as you never knew when you would fall.

[barbiecrocs]

I'm home

Miguel O'hara

tags! hair pulling, praise, use of princess and my love, begging, lowkey highkey phone sex, cumming inside, reader is prolly cheating because they didn't break up, but we won't talk about it, dirty talk

WC. 1649

Barbie's note... This is prolly out of character for Miguel and I actually thought of just subbing Miguel for Gojo bc this is some Gojo ass shit, but I could already see Miguel in the story so I didn't change it lol. Anyway, enjoy!!

He told you, promised you, that he’d contact you every day. If not every day, then every week. If not every week, then every month. If not every month, then he would find a way to give you at least one call a year. 

 The entire three years, there wasn’t one letter, call, text, not even a messenger pigeon knocking at your window. 

 You sat by the phone every day, clutching your pillow, sitting crisscross applesauce, bouncing your knees up and down with joy, waiting for the phone to ring, and the second it would, you’d pick it up, and talk his head off about your day, his day, just everything. Except, the phone call never came. You even took it upon yourself to call him, but he still didn’t pick up. Was he that busy? Did he forget about you? Had he met someone else? Did he change his phone number? Terrifying thoughts circle your head, every one of them scaring you to death. A year of your life wastes away from worrying and grieving his absence until you suffer from burnout. In the third year, you ultimately decide to enter the dating world again to find your other half. Many failed attempts, and this date was one of them.

 You come home exhausted because the date that you’ve been anticipating all week turned out so poorly. He looked nothing like the pictures, he was nothing like his bio, and he was just downright rude to the waiter which was a big ick for you. Now, here he is walking you to your door, thinking that he’s doing his due diligence as a date or hoping to get something extra from you. You make sure to take the stairs up to your fourth-level apartment just to get back at him. When you finally reach your level, it’s another long walk to the end of the hall. You squint your eyes when you see a silhouette in front of your door. As you get closer, the figure looks more and more distinct. “Y/n…” Your posture becomes guarded before your body is propelling itself into the arms of a stranger. Your memory catches up with your body and all of a sudden the scent is familiar, the build is familiar, and tears are running down your cheeks. “Miguel!” You whisper over and over, your voice gradually getting louder, arms tightening around his neck, and the date you were with fading into the background. 

 Beyond your realization, Miguel gives the man a death glare. Looking him up and down, noticing all of his flaws and rough edges. His untamed hair and beard, his wrinkled clothes, and his scuffed shoes. Did you find him on the street? Then he looked down at you. Your big eyes, now closed with tears flooding them, your hair done in an updo and displaying your gorgeous neck, and your beautiful body wrapped in a silverish blue party dress. 

“My love, you look stunning.” His arms squeeze your waist possessively. His eyes darken as he has yet to break eye contact with the opposing male. Your date almost reminds you that he’s still there by clearing his throat, but Miguel grabs your attention, shuffling his hand onto the back of your head and leading you into a kiss. He groans into your mouth, practically feeling the jealousy and anger radiating off your date. Before he knows it, there’s a hand flying to your shoulder with a death grip only for him to catch it. Without any explanation he crushes the man's hand backward, “Don’t you ever lay your dirty fingers on my woman.” He drops the man's hand as he screams in agony. Fishing through your purse, he finds your keys and drags you inside before the neighbors catch wind of what happened.

 There are a ton of questions riding the tip of your tongue that all get shut down by another kiss which you ultimately push away. "Where were you?! You filed my head with hopes then burried them without even touching the shovel! You couldn't even send me one text? Not even and letter by mail? My penpal from 6th grade still writes me from time to time but you couldn't even dedicate one minute out of the day to me. I thought you died, Miguel..." He pushes your back flat against the front door, arms caging you in at your waist and head. "I know, mami... I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry." He wipes the tears from your cheeks and kisses jawline, "Please let me make it up to you."

---

His kisses become quicker and rougher when they begin trailing down to your neck. Moans probing your lips. His breath is heated and his cologne melts all of your senses so much that you don't notice him hooking you by your legs and slinging you over his shoulder. He speed walks into your once-alone, now shared bedroom, tossing you on the center of the bed. Even after years, you still remember what to do and start to strip with him. Despite the burning anticipation on both sides, you both undress slowly, taking your time when scrunching your dress to your upper thighs as he takes forever just to show you a sliver of his abdomen. His shirt is finally off and tossed somewhere in the room. He joins you on the bed, immediately going for your hips and mashing your panty-clad ass onto his covered erection. You moan in unison from the friction, “Miguel, please!” He licks a stripe up from your collar to your jawbone, “Those are the exact words I wanted to hear tonight.” 

 He flips you on your stomach, “Ass up, pretty girl.” You obey his orders, trying not to get on his bad side and anxious to have him again. You begin to beg, but he pulls your panties to the side and prods your entrance with his hot tip. You moan, rolling your hips onto his and feeling him inside you for a split second before he pulls your hair. “Needy girl, aren’t cha?” He hunches over the length of your body, his mouth meeting your ear. He tries to get a teasing word out, but you continue to grind back onto him. “Fuck! Alright, I’ll give the princess what she wants.” He slides into you slowly before you slam back onto him. “Harder! Faster!” You begin to cry until he finally gives you what you need. 

Just then, your phone pings with a notification. Miguel, disapproving of the interruption, picks up your device and reads the message, “Hey, we need to talk about what happened tonight with that guy. Give me a call as soon as you can.” Miguel almost stops thrusting, but then an idea pops into his head. You were so in your own pleasure that you almost didn’t notice the dial tone on speaker in the background. “Huh, Mi-Miguel…? What’s that?” Your question is cut off by a third voice that makes your eyes go wide.

 “So, what is it that you wanted to talk about so badly?” Miguel teases, only to be met with the annoying voice of your bad date. “Huh? Who is this?” His frantic voice makes you cover your mouth in a desperate attempt to mask your moans. “If you want to know who ‘that guy’ is, you’re talking to him right now.” Miguel chuckles, looking down at you covering your mouth, and puts the phone right in front of your face. You move to press the end call button, but he quickly grabs your hands and puts them behind your back, his other hand nesting itself into your hair. “Where is Y/n?” Miguel smirks adjusting you until you’re comfortable, hands behind your back and all. “Oh, she’s right here. And I think she has something to say too.” He starts his thrusts back up, not caring to go slow or even be gentle, just pounding you into the mattress relentlessly. Pleasureful moans and cries of Miguel's name squeezing out of you. “Oh, princess. It’s been years and you still take me so well. Have you been letting other men stretch this pussy out?” His grip on your hair tightens and you can tell that he’s starting to get possessive again. “No! Never!” His eyebrow cocks up without notice, “Oh, so you’ve been using your fingers?” You nod and turn back to look at him with teary eyes that only make him pound into your G-spot harder. You both failed to realize, but your date had hung up the phone, most likely fuming while typing out the interaction on Reddit.

 Miguel’s eye line travels down to your ass then a bit lower, watching the mesmerizing sight of you swallowing him up. “If you could see what I see. You’re needy little cunt is doing such a good job of taking me. She feels so good too.” His hand unravels in your hair, gliding down to your hips only to grip them with a deadly clutch. He starts jackhammering into you, your head moving up and down the sheets like crazy and ruining your hair. “Miguel, I… I’m gonna agh!” 

“You gonna cum for me?” He whispers, leaning down to your ear. You nod, “Together. Cum with me.” You choke out your words when your orgasm hits you like a train, your eyes rolling back with your jaw slacked open. “You feel so good, princess.” He helps you ride out your orgasm before pulling out to shoot on your back. “Mhm nhm. Inside.” With the little strength you have left, you bring your hands to your backside and spread yourself open for him. Miguel looks at you with stars in your eyes from you being your normal, shameless, self. He plants a kiss on one of your cheeks before sliding himself back into your sopping hole. You moan from the sensitivity as he releases inside of you, filling you to the brim with his cum. He leans down to your ear once more, catching a glimpse of your knocked-out and satisfied face. “I’m home, my love.” 

[talesoftheesun]

I um... tripped! [O.G.]

pairing: ominis gaunt x slytherin!reader (gender neutral)

genre: fluff, slight angst, idk??

warnings: mention of blood. ominis might spontaneously go gray. can be read platonically, kind of. also english is not my first language and i wrote this while high on sleep deprivation lol

word count: 862

a/n: hi!! this is my first hogwarts legacy fic. i've written before here and there but it's been a long time lol. i hope you guys enjoy!

prompt: "they do a poor job of hiding the damage"

summary: you're out doing keeper stuff, ominis is concerned.

Stumbling through the common room doors, you cling to the wall like a lifeline. The winding of the stairs makes you feel even worse. As you near the bottom of the stairs, you strain your ears trying to figure out if anyone was still awake. Silence. You relax a bit as you continue to limp down the stairs. 

You should've known better. 

As soon as you make it all the way down, that ever-concerned voice speaks up, "And where in Merlin's name have you been?" 

“Bloody hell Ominis, how many times do I have to ask you to stop doing that?!” You clutch your heart. He turns his head in your direction, deadpan look on his face. “I wouldn’t have to if you’d stop coming back so late every bloody day.” 

You grumble, “You know I have keeper stuff to do.” Ominis can’t stop the sigh from escaping. “Yes, I’m aware of that, but do you have to keep doing it in the middle of the night?” 

Unbeknownst to him, you’re swaying on your feet, “Can we not do this right now, please, I just want to go to bed.” You don't wait for a response. Knowing full well he’d pop a vein if he knew of your current condition, you try to make as little noise as possible as you move in the direction of your room. 

Ominis scoffs and jumps up from where he was sitting on the chesterfield so fast, you’d think someone just slapped him. “No, we are doing this now!” He makes his way over to you in just a few strides, “You’re never around long enough during the day for us to have this conversation then! Do you have any id—” He freezes up at the sound of a loud thud.

Frantically waving his wand around, he finally finds you, on the floor. “Wha— Are you okay?” 

Any other day, in any other situation, you’d have laughed at how big his eyes have gotten since the start of your… conversation. Right now however, you were too preoccupied with keeping your pain hidden from him. You cough, “Yeah, I’m fine, I um… tripped! Over uh… Violet’s shoe..?” Mentally beating yourself up over how bad of an excuse that was.

“Right…” He holds his left hand out for you to grab, “Come on then.” 

Too preoccupied with keeping your labored breaths down, you don't notice his hand until he hisses your name. “Oh. Sorry,” you gingerly grab his hand. 

Now, Ominis wouldn’t describe himself as strong, he can’t exactly participate in sports given his lack of sight. But the blood-curdling scream you let out as he pulled you up, would make anyone think he just ripped your body apart.

Feeling your weight drop back down, he quickly wraps his arms around you to catch you. “What’s wrong?! Did I hurt you? Wait— Did someone hurt you out there?!” Eyes darting around, as if trying to find the damage.

Still trying to catch your breath, you can only groan in response. He strokes your hair as he carefully walks you back towards the couch. Repeating apologies like a prayer. He pulls you onto his lap, not sure whether he should be careful and hold you like a porcelain doll, or to pull you closer and hold on for dear life. When he feels you lean into him, he settles on the latter. 

"I'm sorry," by now he's realized that the iron smell of blood he got a waft of earlier wasn't the blood of your enemies, it was yours. "I'm so, so sorry."

Finally able to breathe easier now, you wrap your arms around his torso. "It's not your fault. Please don't beat yourself up about it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He frowns, tears brimming his eyes. "And why didn't you take a wiggenweld potion?"

You sigh, "Well, I knew you'd be upset with me and... I ran out at some point." Looking down in shame.

"You're damn right I'd be upset," he huffs, "But I'd at least wait until after you're okay to lecture you." Realizing how silly you’d been acting, you mumble an apology into his neck.

"What? I didn't quite catch that." He fails to fight the smirk threatening to break out. You roll your eyes, but give in anyway, "I said, you're right and I'm sorry."

"Hmm no, still didn't catch that."

Exasperated now, you huff, "You're right and I'm wrong.” Finally satisfied, he allows the smile on his face to grow even more. "Now will you help patch me up?"

He winces, "Not sure how you could forget darling, but I'm horrible at potions, I don't have any wiggenweld potions for you." You groan, "Ugh right. Then can you just hold me until you can get Sebastian to get some for me?" 

“Of course,” Shifting your bodies so you’re both laying down on the couch, you on top of his chest, he summons the blanket resting on the other couch to drape over you. "Now, get some rest."

As you settle into the warmth of his body, you drift off to sleep. The last thing you feel is his lips on your forehead.

[sam-keeper]

hilariously, I tried months ago to switch my patreon to a subscription model and they wouldn't let me because they switched that functionality off. now, magically, it's back, because Apple is twisting their arm about it. lots of "fuck apple" takes going around but... if this is what forces patreon to actually do their job uhhhhhh I'm not complaining lol

they've essentially been letting all infrastructure not attuned to the subscription model rot for MONTHS, they WANTED to force people onto this model before. it feels like Tumblr whining about how they can't have porn even though twitter can "for reasons idk", when it's become SO fucking obvious that they just wanted to ban porn and apple makes for a convenient scapegoat.

I firmly believe that the reason they turned off the ability to just switch from per-creation to subscription because they wanted to force all of us with grandfathered in lower fee rates because we signed up in the first few years of their business to just remake our patreons from scratch. if this forces them to just let us switch normally that's a good thing, though part of me still is waiting for the other shoe to drop.

also, lol, remember when the ENTIRE PITCH for Patreon was "we can keep service fees down because we charge cards ONCE in a big lump sum then distribute the earnings"? it's funny how that fell by the wayside over time...

anyway fuck this company, they're doing a great job of making it look like apple is responsible for what for the most part is their own infrastructural incompetence and fecklessness.

[holidaywishes]

a hard loss

Requested: 👍

Summary/Request: uhm i don’t know if your requests are open i’m sorry if they’re not but i would love a fic where auston has like a really shitty loss and he’s pissed and you just get absolutely railed 🙏🏼🙏🏼

Warning: smut, really basic dirty talk, pretty self-explanatory I think 😊

Author's Note: This one was from an anon WAYYYYY back, so hopefully they find it and are still interested lol. I'm sorry it's taken so long but life gets in the way of things sometimes. Anyway! Here is this little fic. Enjoy! Also, part four of Hate Sex is finally up so find that and enjoy it, if you want 😜 <- you can tell how long it's been since I wrote this because Hate Sex part four has been up for a while now 😂

Fun Fact: I started writing this in the back of an Uber almost a year ago now and only had time to follow through with it now 😅, so I apologize for the long wait but hey! we got something lol.

masterlist

the other masterlist

xx

They made it to the playoffs again. But you were always waiting for the other shoe to drop because, well, it’s Toronto. It didn’t take long and Auston came over to your house in a fuming rage

“Okay, let’s take a breath before we break something” you said calmly when he flung open your door to let himself in

“Take a breath? Did you see what the fuck happened?” He shouted

“Honestly?” you winced, “no.”

“Seriously?!”

“I was working! I couldn’t watch the game,” you admitted, “I’m sorry. I heard it was rough though”

“Gee, thanks for the update”

“Auston, sit down,” you shook your head, gesturing to the sectional beside him. You understood why he was so worked up, they would always get so close before ultimately coming up short; you felt bad for him but you didn’t know what to say to make him feel better. “What do you need?” was all you could think to ask

“What?” he questioned, leaning his elbows on his knees and dropping his head to hands briefly

“I don’t know what to say to make you feel better so,” you continued, “is there something I can do?” He smirked as he corrected his posture, bringing you between his legs silently

“Oh there’s definitely something you can do” his smirk grew to a grin while his hands gripped your ass and his face buried in your chest. Of course, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes when his head was down.

Sex. It’s always that simple.

You placed your forefinger under his chin to lift it, catching his lustful stare once his eyes found yours. The moment was charged but you decided to take it slow, taking your time removing his shirt and kissing his neck as you undid the button of his pants, unzipping the zipper almost tauntingly. Auston had other plans. He tore off your shirt and nearly ripped off your fleece shorts before pushing you onto the couch; your eyes grew wide as his narrowed. He kissed you harshly as his hand pushed down your underwear and your body jerked toward him. He let his hand slowly move up your thigh while your breathing increased, your chest moving up and down at the sensation he was giving you. When you finally caught his eye again, you could tell from his smirk that this wasn't going to be a "romantic" night, it's not what he needed - this was all about letting off steam - so you grabbed his shoulders to pull yourself up onto his lap and took at least one small moment of sweetness before you were bent over the back of the couch. Your back arched as he pulled your hair and thrust into you quickly, his moans louder with each intense push while you gripped the couch to steady yourself.

“Fu-uck” you screamed out, voice catching as his thrusts grew harder and his hands moved from your hair to grab your hips. You felt his nails digging into your skin as you pushed back into him,

“You like that?” Auston said breathlessly as your moans turned to whines as you took all of him in, “take it, my little slut.” You weren’t one for dirty talk and neither was Auston, so his words took you a bit by surprise, leading you to attempt to turn your head to face him before he slapped your ass harshly; you let out a yelp coated in pleasure and his pace increased again once more. The sound of spanking echoed through your living room and Auston would continue his dirty talk, “fuck yeah, take my big cock you dirty slut”

“Fuck me,” was all your mind could come up with to say in return but it led Auston to grab your hair again and pulled your back to his chest, his hand then moved to your neck as the two of you moved in tandem, breathing harshly, before you looked into his eyes, hand lightly against his that was resting on your neck, “harder, daddy,” you finally said as you allowed his hand to tighten around your throat. You kept your eyes trained on him as best you could while he choked and fucked you from behind.

“That’s it, baby, keep looking at me,” he said with a smirk, his voice rough like a growl, “I want you to look at me as I make you cum.” His grip never got too tight around your neck which allowed your head to lob back onto his shoulder and your hands to reach back to his waist, keeping your bodies close so that the sensations of him inside of you could be intense for the both of you. Your eyes drifted away from his for a second and he tightened his grip around your neck and increased his thrusts just enough to grab your attention one last time, “I said keep looking at me.” Your pleasure grew more with each tug at your throat and each movement of your hips into his.

“Fuck,” you breathed, eyes still locked on his, “cum with me. Fuck, baby I’m coming.” Your eyebrows moved together as you struggled to keep your eyes on Auston as he requested and your moans took over as his grip around your throat tightened for a moment while he came inside you. He kissed your neck gently before kissing down your back and turning you around to face him, picking up his shirt along the way to wrap it around you as if to return to the gentle man you knew him to be

“Was that okay?” He blushed, holding your hands in his and you smiled shyly

“What do you mean?” you giggled, “of course it was okay, was it not okay for you?”

“I mean the words,” he clarified, “you know I don’t think of you that way right? Like a.. slut” his hesitation led you to place your hand on his cheek and kiss his lips softly

“I know, baby,” you smiled, “it was in the moment”

“I love you” he added, bringing you to sit on the couch as he kissed your shoulders and your cheeks

“I love you, too” you smiled, bringing his face to yours to kiss him slowly before thinking to yourself ‘maybe this was how losses should always be handled…’

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Cooking Up Love, Chapter 7

Pairing: Chef!Matt Murdock x F!Journalist!Reader

Rating: T

Story Summary: Here 

Warnings/Tags: Hallmark levels of fluffy, cheesy goodness (and speed that their relationship develops, lol), no use of Y/N, Matt is not a vigilante, idiots in love, pining... so much pining

Word Count: ~3800

A/N: As promised, here's the 2nd half of Chef Matt & Reader's Sunday afternoon together! Enjoy!

And thank you as always to @theradioactivespidergwen for the super cute divider she made for me!

Tag List: @yarrystyleeza @hailey-murdock @mattkinsella @bellaxgiornata @danzer8705 @chezagnes @shouldbestudying41 @thepunisherfrankcastle @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment

Where the hell are we going? you wondered as you and Matt headed away from Clinton Church. 

It wasn't like you weren't afraid he was taking you off somewhere to murder you -- you truly did feel safe with Matt and hadn't been lying when you had said that you trusted him. "Any hint as to where we're going?"

Matt shook his head. "I know it sounds weird, but I'd rather just show you, if that's okay?"

You nodded. It seemed important to Matt that your destination remain a mystery, so you decided not to push. "Okay."

You continued walking past various shops and storefronts until finally Matt stopped. "Okay, we're here."

You peered at the faded letters on the door. 

Fogwell's Gym

You remembered Matt saying that he frequently worked out after service, but couldn't quite understand what was so special about the location that required the need for secrecy. Well, at least that explains the gym bag.

Matt pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door before stepping inside. "Come on in."

You followed him into the darkened gym and waited as he turned the lights on before looking around.

Cubbyholes lined the wall to the left of the door while several punching bags hung to the right. A large boxing ring was situated in the middle of the room, with wooden steps leading up to it. 

Matt gestured towards what you assumed was the locker room. "I'm going to go get changed into my workout clothes. Be right back."

You nodded. "Okay."

While Matt was in the locker room, you took the opportunity to look at the flyers advertising various past boxing matches tacked to the wall. Johnson vs Lewis, Conway vs Roberts, Creel vs Murdock…

You sucked in a breath, reaching out to touch the poster. Creel vs Murdock. Now it makes sense.

You heard Matt come out of the locker room and set his bag down. 

"This is where your dad trained, isn't it?" you asked, your eyes still on the poster.

You heard Matt sigh. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

You turned towards him and froze. As handsome as he was while wearing his chef's coat and black slacks or a t-shirt and jeans, he was even more gorgeous in a black tank top, gray sweatpants, and tennis shoes.

Your gaze drifted up to his face. His glasses were gone, revealing beautiful hazel eyes that were fixed in your direction. 

Matt must've felt you staring at him, because he ducked his head and began rummaging through his gym bag. "I, uh, I started coming here back when I was in culinary school," he explained. "I was struggling during my first semester and thinking about dropping out, so I came to the one place I knew where I would feel close to my dad to see if I could figure out what he would say."

He took out a small bundle of what looked like Ace bandages and began to wrap his hands. "I was having a particularly bad day that day -- there was this one professor who had been giving me a hard time about my need for certain accommodations -- so I began to take my frustration out on a punching bag."

You had found when people started to open up it was better to just let them keep talking rather than interrupt with questions, so you remained silent.

"With each punch I could hear my dad telling me that he was proud of me," Matt continued as he finished wrapping one hand and started on the other. "And that Murdocks never give up no matter how hard things get. So I decided to stay in culinary school and work my ass off to prove that I have what it takes to be a great chef and make my dad proud of me."

Before you could second-guess yourself, you walked over to Matt and wrapped your arms around him in a hug.

You thought for a split second that you might have crossed a line, but before you could let go and apologize Matt relaxed into your embrace, circling his arms around you and tucking his face into your neck.

You held him briefly, then let go and stepped back. 

Matt began to redo the wrap that he had begun, keeping his face turned downward. "I've, uh, I've never actually told anybody about that before. Not even Foggy."

Your heart constricted. You couldn't even begin to imagine the hardship that Matt must have had to go through in order to prove himself as a chef. "Thank you for sharing it with me."

Matt paused. "I don't suppose I can ask you to keep that off the record, can I?"

You nodded. "I will, if that's what you want. It'll stay just between us."

Matt huffed out a breath. "Thank you."

You sat on the bench as Matt moved in front of the punching bag. "So, I suppose you're going to show me some moves, huh?"

Matt chuckled. "If you'd like."

You watched as Matt did a few stretches, appreciating the way his biceps flexed as he moved. And if your eyes drifted southward, well… you were only human. Cake, indeed. One could bounce a quarter off of that ass.

Your eyes snapped back to Matt's face, which bore a small smirk. 

He reached out and touched the punching bag, found the center, then adjusted his stance, raising his fists in front of his face.

You watched in fascination as he skillfully maneuvered his way around the bag, landing punches as if he was squaring off against one of the greatest fighters of all time. He certainly doesn't fight like a blind man.

Finally he paused, chest heaving.

He steadied the punching bag. "Would you mind handing me that towel, please?"

You resisted the urge to lick the sweat off of his neck. "Oh, uh, yeah, sure."

You handed the towel to him. "So are you sure you haven't had professional training?"

Matt grinned as he wiped his face and neck down with the towel. "Yeah, I'm sure."

He draped the towel around his neck and picked up his gym bag. "I'm going to go take a quick shower and change, but I'll be back in a minute, if that's okay?"

You nodded. "Yeah, of course."

While you waited for him to return you checked your phone for messages, replying to an email from an artist you had featured a few weeks prior thanking you for your article.

You put your phone away and stood, glancing briefly over at the entrance to the locker room before walking in front of the punching bag.

You closed your eyes, curled your right hand into a fist, and swung, missing the bag completely. 

You opened your eyes, frowning. Maybe I wasn't close enough.

You moved a bit closer, then closed your eyes again.

You swung at the bag, this time barely connecting.

"...Your stance is off."

You gasped and whirled around, a hand flying over your chest. "Jesus, Matt, you scared me."

Matt stood next to the boxing ring, this time dressed in a dark blue t-shirt that clearly showed off his muscles and dark blue sweatpants.

He smiled softly at you. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

You shook your head, trying to calm your racing heart. "It's alright. I was just… um… just…"

"Trying to figure out how a blind man can hit a punching bag so easily?" Matt nodded in understanding. "I probably should have told you, but I'm not actually completely blind."

"Oh," you replied, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I'm so sorry, I just assumed…"

Matt shook his head. "It's okay. The chemicals that got into my eyes basically fried my synapses, so whatever is directly in front of me looks like a black mass and the rest of my line of vision is what I can best describe as a 'world on fire'."

He tapped the side of his glasses, which you had belatedly realized were back on his face. "The red lenses help neutralize that part."

You huffed out a light laugh. "And here I thought you just wore them because they made you look cool."

Matt grinned. "You think they make me look cool?"

More like slightly mysterious and incredibly hot. Your face heated slightly. "Eh, maybe a little."

Matt shook his head with a chuckle. "Ready to head out?"

You nodded. "Mmhmm."

Matt gestured towards the door. "After you."

"So, where to next?" you asked as the two of you headed outside.

Matt shook his head. "Actually, that was my last errand." 

"Oh." You couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed that you had to go your separate ways. "Okay, so I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yeah, tomorrow." Matt bit his lip. "Um, that is… unless you'd like to have dinner with me tonight? My place? My apartment's not too far from here."

You nodded, unable to keep a smile off of your face. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd actually really like that."

Matt unfolded his cane. "Great!  I mean, it's the least I could do after you helped me out this afternoon at the soup kitchen."

Your heart sank slightly. Of course he meant it as a thank-you, how else would he have meant it? "Oh. Um, it was no problem. I was happy to help."

Matt turned the opposite of the way you were facing. "This way, then."

As you headed down the street, you couldn't help but entertain the thought of Matt having invited you over for dinner not because he felt obligated to as a thank-you, but because he hadn't been ready for your time together to end either.

You mentally shook your head. It's just as a thank-you for helping him out at the church, that's it.

…You just wished it hadn't been.

Why the hell did I say that? Matt thought to himself as the two of you walked towards his apartment. He'd had every intention of asking you to have dinner with him as a (sort-of) date, but the second you had said yes he had second-guessed himself and blurted out the bit about it being as a thank-you for helping him out at Clinton Church. 

He mentally shook his head as the two of you stopped at a crosswalk. Maybe I can fix this.

Before he could say anything, you cleared your throat. "You know, I'm sure you're tired and I don't want to be an inconvenience, so I actually think I'll just head ho--"

"No!" Matt shook his head. "I mean, no, it's not an inconvenience. I was going to make something to eat when I got home anyway, so it's not a problem to make an extra serving."

He inwardly cringed. Way to make things worse. "Actually, what I meant was that I've really enjoyed your company today and would like to have dinner with you."

He could feel you relax. "I've enjoyed your company today too," you admitted softly. "If you're sure it's not a big deal…"

Matt nodded. "I'm sure."

"Then okay. I'd love to have dinner with you."

Matt smiled in relief. "Great. And actually now that I think about it, I do have one more stop before we get back to my apartment. I need to harvest some herbs from my plot at the community garden, but it'll only take a minute."

"Okay."

The two of you continued on as the crosswalk signal beeped and changed to walk .

"So what kind of herbs do you grow?" you asked.

"All sorts of culinary varieties," Matt replied. "Rosemary, thyme, basil, lavender, and mint."

"Oh, cool."

Matt nodded. "Unfortunately I have to outsource my herbs for the restaurant since I don't have the space to grow the amount that we would need, but this works for my own personal use."

He slowed as you reached the garden. "Welcome to the Hell's Kitchen Community Garden."

"Oh wow," you said. "I never even knew this was here."

Matt led you down the center path then to the right, following along the fence line to his plot in the back corner. "It hasn't been here too terribly long, maybe six months or so."

"And you said Claire from the farmer's market runs it?"

Matt nodded. "Yeah. She petitioned the council to turn the property into a community space and keeps track of who has which plot and everything."

You hummed. "I might have to talk to my boss about covering the community garden for the paper too. This is really neat."

"That would be great. It definitely would raise more awareness and hopefully bring more funding for upkeep." Matt stopped in front of his plot. "This is mine."

He knelt down and felt his basil plants before picking a few leaves and placing them into a small storage container he kept in the side pocket of his gym bag. "All set."

He led you back out of the garden and down the street towards his apartment building, frowning at the distant rumble of thunder. Well, there goes my plan to have dinner on the roof. "Sounds like it's about to rain."

"Yeah, it does seem like it's getting a bit cloudy," you replied. "Is your place much farther?"

Matt shook his head. "No, it's just up ahead."

"Oh, okay."

You walked the rest of the way in comfortable silence.

"Okay, here we are," Matt said as you reached his apartment building.

He led you to the elevator and pressed the button for his floor, the sound of rain beginning to fall as the elevator began to ascend. "Sounds like we made it just in time." 

"Yeah, thank goodness," you replied. "I wasn't expecting it to rain so I didn't bring my umbrella with me."

You can always just stay the night… Matt shook his head. "I have one you can borrow if you need to, or I can call you a cab if it's still raining hard when you leave later."

He took his keys out of his pocket as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. "This way."

He led you down the hall to his apartment and unlocked the door, then opened it and ushered you inside as another roll of thunder rumbled overhead.

He closed the door and dropped his keys into the bowl on the side table in the entryway before folding up his cane and setting it next to the bowl. "Come on in."

He tried to ignore his sudden nervousness. It had been a long time since he'd had someone who wasn't Foggy or Karen in his personal space and hoped you wouldn't judge how barren his apartment was.

He turned on the lights then headed to his refrigerator. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Oh, um, sure," you replied. "Whatever you're having is fine."

He heard you walk over to the large window in his living area as he pulled out 2 bottles of beer along with a block of pecorino cheese and some pancetta. He had gotten an incredible deal on his apartment because of the gigantic neon sign that was situated on the roof of the neighboring building, so he was sure that was what you were looking at.

He quickly washed the fresh basil he had picked and patted it dry, then set the cheese and pancetta down on the kitchen island before popping the tops off of the bottles and walking over to you. "Here you go."

Your fingers brushed his as he handed you the bottle, a now-familiar tingle coursing through Matt's veins. "Thank you."

Matt swallowed and took a sip of his beer. "Quite the view, huh?" he said, gesturing out the window.

You huffed out a laugh. "It's very, um… picturesque."

Matt shook his head with a grin. "Funny, that's exactly how the real estate agent that sold me this place described it." He leaned in conspiratorially. "I have a feeling she might not've been telling me the truth though." 

You laughed again. "Okay, it is a bit obnoxious."

Matt chuckled. "I really do keep meaning to get some blackout curtains, but since it's just me it's never really been a bother."

You hummed. "I honestly don't mind it. It gives your apartment an interesting glow."

Matt could imagine the two of you together on his sofa, the glow of the billboard the only light in the darkened room as he gently caressed your cheek, your lips inches from his own--

He mentally shook his head and gestured to his kitchen island. "Have a seat and I'll get started on dinner."

He heard you sit as he began to gather the rest of the ingredients, placing the eggs he had taken out of his refrigerator that morning into a bowl and setting it on the island before washing his hands and filling a pot about halfway with water.

He set the pot on the stove and seasoned it with some salt, then turned the burner on high to let the water boil.

He crossed back to the island and roughly chopped the fresh basil he had picked, then quickly whisked together 3 egg yolks and an entire egg before grating a generous amount of cheese into the mixture, giving it an additional stir before setting it aside.

He could feel you quietly watching him as he unwrapped the pancetta and began cutting it into small cubes, unable to help but wonder what you were thinking. You'd had the same focus the day before when he had made your crepes, but you had been recording your conversation then and had asked questions about his culinary process. This felt… different. More personal, like you were deep in thought.

He cleared his throat. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"What?" You startled slightly. "Oh, sorry, it's nothing. Just trying to figure out what we're having for dinner."

You were lying to him, but Matt couldn't figure out exactly why or what about. "Oh, I'm making spaghetti carbonara. It's traditionally made with guanciale, but my supplier was out, so pancetta will have to suffice for today."

"Your supplier… Oh, right, Frank, wasn't it?"

Matt shook his head then moved back to the stove, dropping the spaghetti into the pot of boiling water before moving the pancetta to the pan. "He doesn't do cured meats. I get those and other specialty items from Nelson's Meats."

You made a curious sound. "Nelson… as in Chef Nelson?"

Matt nodded as he stirred the pancetta around. "Foggy's family owns it. Best capicola in the tri-state area."

He finished cooking the pancetta and turned the skillet off, then scooped some of the pasta water into a measuring cup before draining the pasta and adding it to the pancetta. "Dinner's almost ready if you want to move to the table."

"Okay."

As you moved to Matt's dining table, he gave the egg mixture another stir before pouring it into the pan, adding a bit of the pasta water and using tongs to mix it all together.

Once it was a perfectly smooth consistency, he added some freshly-ground black pepper and separated it into two bowls before adding an extra sprinkle of cheese and some chopped basil on top of each serving. 

He placed a fork in each bowl, then brought them over to you, setting yours in front of you and his in front of his spot across from you. "Dinner is served."

You gave a slight gasp. "Oh my goodness, Matt, this looks amazing."

"Thanks." Matt quickly grabbed two wine glasses and gave them a quick rinse before taking a bottle of Pinot Gris out of his refrigerator and pouring you each a glass. 

He set your glass down before sitting across from you. "The beer we were drinking doesn't really go with carbonara so I've selected a wine pairing, if that's alright?"

You gave a hum of affirmation. "Of course it's alright."

Matt nodded. "Okay, well, enjoy."

He waited nervously as you took a bite.

You let out a pleased sound. "Oh my goodness, this is so good."

Matt grinned in relief. "Yeah?"

"Yes, absolutely. Everything you've made for me so far has been amazing." 

"I'm glad." Matt took a bite of his own carbonara, the silky smoothness of the sauce pairing perfectly with the crispy pancetta and al dente noodles. "It's not quite traditional carbonara but it's very close."

"Right, you said it's traditionally made with guanciale."

Matt nodded. "And no herbs are usually added, but I like the flavor a bit of fresh basil adds to the dish."

"Mmm. Mmhmm. Yeah, I like it too."

You both continued eating and once you were done, Matt stood. "Here, I'll get this for you."

"Thanks."

"I'm afraid I don't have any dessert prepared, but would you like another glass of wine?"

"Yeah, I'd love one."

Matt grabbed the bottle of Pinot Gris and refilled your glasses. "Care to go sit on the couch?"

"Sure."

You took a sip of wine as the two of you sat together on Matt's sofa. "I really like your apartment, by the way. It suits you."

Matt shook his head with a small smile. "It's not much, but it's home."

You huffed out a laugh. "It's not what I originally expected, but to be honest, neither were you."

"Oh?" Matt turned towards you. "And what did you expect?"

"About you or your apartment?"

"Mmm, both, I suppose."

"Well, had I based my idea of what your apartment would be like on my first impression of you it would've been cold and industrial with no heart."

Matt winced. "Ouch."

"However, having gotten to know you over the past few days I would say warm and inviting with a certain charm."

A smile spread across Matt's face. "You think I'm charming?"

"Your apartment? Very. You? Maybe a tiny bit."

Matt smirked at the teasing tone in your voice. "A tiny bit? I guess I'll just have to work harder on charming you then."

You let out a light laugh. "No need, I'll send you a copy of my article before publication anyway."

"Okay, thanks." Although that's not the reason I want to charm you.

You finished your glass of wine. "And speaking of my article, I should probably get going -- I have to be at the Bulletin early tomorrow for our weekly staff meeting."

Matt nodded and stood. "Here, I'll walk you out."

"Thanks for inviting me along today," you said softly as you reached the door. "I had a really great time." 

Matt nodded, unable to keep a smile off of his face. "I did too."

"I'll see you tomorrow evening?"

Matt nodded again. "Six o'clock?"

"Yeah, that sounds perfect."

"Okay, great."

The two of you stood there for a moment longer. Finally you reached out and gave Matt a brief hug. "Goodnight, Matt."

Matt hugged you back, committing what he could of you to memory. "Goodnight."

He waited as you let yourself out, an idea forming in his mind.

…He just hoped he was able to pull it off.

[mycomfortblanket]

Publicist Set Up

Chapter One

Sokka is lying in bed scrolling through Instagram when a message request notification bar appears at the top of his screen. Not thinking too much of it, he hits the bar and it immediately takes him to the message.

From: KateLoftinFireStudios 9:46 pm Hi, my name is Kate, I am Zuko Sozin's Social Media Publicist and Manager. I noticed that you've commented a few times on his posts and was wondering if you would be interested in a Zoom Meet and Greet with him..

Sokka rolls his eyes. Another spam message, although this one seems more realistic, is probably an actual person messaging him and then will somehow manage to get his social secruity number from some special encryption bullshit. But still, it's always fun to mess with these people and see how far they are willing to sell their lies.

From: Sokkas_B00merang 9:48 pm Oh, Zuko's publicist, huh?

From: KateLoftinFireStudios 9:48 pm Yeah, I know, there are a lot of scammers out there, but this is a legitimate offer. It's completely free, you would just have to log onto a Zoom meeting after I set up the times between you two.

Sokka furrows his brow. He's never had a scammer openly admit to there being other scammers on the internet, nor them saying 'completely free'. Usually, they'll throw in a 'small payment' or something along those lines.

From: Sokkas_B00merang 9:50 pm Is there any way for me to know you're real?

From: KateLoftinFireStudios 9:51 pm Oh, I'm so sorry about that. I usually lead with that. Yes, here is my card, I blacked out my phone number for obvious reasons. If you would like, you can request to follow me on Instagram and you can see some personal photos I have with him.

The picture that comes in is crystal clear and it's what she says it is: a business card. Sokka clicks on the photo so that it comes up bigger and he inspects the card. There's her name, and underneath it says Social Media Specialist and Publicist, the scribble of what looks like a Snapchat coloring over the phone number and email.

Okay, this shit is weird and actually kind of real looking. Before he actually starts to get his hopes up, Sokka goes to Kate's profile and hits the Request to Follow button, and within thirty seconds, his request is approved and he is able to go to her page.

The majority of the pictures are of her and several of her at the pool drinking some frozen alcoholic drink. But, every so often, there's a picture with someone famous. There's that girl from that K-Pop group he hears so much about, or that actor from the newest James Bond movie, and a little further down, is Zuko. The caption reads Great night with great company. He clicks the photo and the top comment is from Zuko's official account. It's just a heart, but still, this shit is weirdly realistic.

He goes back to the messages,

From: Sokkas_B00merang 10:02 pm Okay, I'll give you this, your stuff looks legit. Just waiting for the other shoe to drop and for you to ask me to input my credit card number.

From: KateLoftinFireStudios 10:03 pm Lol no, nothing of that sort. I just need to know when you are free within the next two weeks so I can get a meeting set up between you two.

~~~

Even though Sokka still has a sliver of a doubt about this whole thing, he is also having that rush of excitement at possibly meeting a celebrity. But not just any celebrity, the hottest model that Sokka has ever had the privilege of masterbating to. He started appearing in magazines a little bit before the pandemic, and once everyone was confinded indoors, his image seemed to be everywhere.

Sokka has a few magazines that Zuko is featured in scattered about in his apartment, and even though the majority of the time, he is fully clothed, there is that random picture of him in underwear or swimsuit. His lean body has the perfect amount of wiry muscles and his abs are defined but not overly in your face. His scar, although Sokka is sure was incredibly painful, gives the man a sense of mystery and ruggedness.

When it's finally time for the meeting, Sokka pulls out his old laptop from the back of his closet and powers it on. He'd rather be safe than sorry just in case it is actually spam and they give his computer some sort of virus. He has it set up on his coffee table and with him on the floor, his back pressed against the couch.

He's still waiting in the Zoom calls 'lobby' waiting for the host- or Zuko- to start the meeting. Sokka checks his reflection in the little square that shows his picture and he quickly reaches up and adjusts his hair and checks for eye boogies one more time.

The computer makes a sound, letting him know that someone has started the chat and his heart freezes for about .5 seconds as the screen changes. The person he's supposed to be chatting with still doesn't have their camera on so he can't see if it's actually going to be The Zuko or some ramdom guy from a different country trying to steal his identity.

"Bloody hell, you would think I would know how to do this by now," a woman with a British accent says. "Sokka- am I pronouncing your name right?"

"Uh..." he hesitates, but nods his head. "Yeah. You pronounced it right."

"Great, this is Kate," the British woman says. "Zuko is in the other room, said something about his shirt. I can't seem to understand why- Ah!" the camera finally comes on, "There we go!" and a beautiful woman comes into view. She's sitting in what appears to be a kitchen; there's a stove and the edge of a stainless steel fridge behind her. The breath is actually sucked out of him. That's the lady that was in the Instagram posts... which means...

"Is that him?" a raspy voice sounds from off-camera and Sokka's eyes widen. He would recognize that voice anywhere. From all the interviews that Sokka has watched, he would be able to pick this man's voice out of a lineup any day. Kate glances to the right of the screen and gives a small nod and a smile.

"Okay, Sokka. So the way this works, you and Zuko get to chat for about thirty minutes before it automatically kicks both of you out. For legal reasons, Zuko won't disclose any personal information like where he is, phone number, or things of that sort and you also don't have to disclose any information that you don't want to. Sound good?"

Sokka can't even really bring himself to say anything, but just nods, his eyes still as big as dinner plates.

"Great, well here he is." Kate turns to Zuko who is still offscreen, "I'm going to be down the hall in the office, I'll come back a few minutes before the time is u p to give you a warning, okay?" She turns back to Sokka, "Bye, Sokka. It was great chatting with you!" She walks off the screen and a tall figure takes her place.

If it's even possible, the breath is sucked out of Sokka again at the fact that Zuko fucking Sozin, the most beautiful model his eyes have ever laid upon, drops down into the chair in front of the camera.

"Oh my god," Sokka whispers.

"What?" Zuko asks, his brow furrowing.

"I didn't actually think- I mean... you're real!" Sokka says, his voice cracking slightly.

Zuko huffs out an awkward laugh, "Yeah, and you're real, I mean, of course, you'd be real. I just didn't believe Kate when she told me about the Zoom meeting because, I mean, who does this sort of thing? I- I don't mean that I don't want to talk with you, I just- I'm totally new to all of this-" he cuts himself off, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

Sokka cant' help the smile that comes onto his face. God, this guy is cute. In the magazines, he just radiates confidence and sex appeal, but in real life, he is so painfully awkward that it's cute. "You don't talk to fans often?" Sokka asks, deciding to help him out a little.

"I wouldn't necessarily say I have fans..." Zuko mumbles, running a hand through his shaggy hair. "I mean, sure, there are people who like me, but fans- I think that's being a little generous."

"Nah, man. I'm definitely a fan," Sokka gives him a charming smile and Zuko gives him a small one back. "You say you're new to this, but I've been seeing you in magazines and stuff for years now, since before the pandemic."

"Oh, yeah, no. I didn't mean new to the modeling thing, I meant new to the talking to people who... like me?" he finishes awkwardly with a shrug.

Sokka can't help but snort a laugh out through his nose, "I'm finding that a little hard to believe that you- mister beautiful famous model man- is nervous talking to me, a guy who ids barely surviving working at his dad's mechanic shop."

"I don't know about the beautiful part," Zuko grumbles and looks down, his blush deepening just a little and starting to spread down his neck. Sokka can just barely see his fingers picking at something on the table he is at. This is the second time he has been self-deprecating and Sokka can tell he's not doing it in a way of fishing for compliments, but rather, he genuinely believes what he is saying. He also notices how Zuko didn't deny the fact that he is nervous talking to him, but rather, denied that he is pretty.

"Well, what made your publicist choose me for you to talk to?" he asks curiously. Sokka does not expect the full-on bright red blush that overtakes Zuko's cheeks even more and goes down his neck, disappearing into his shirt. His eyes go wide and he quickly looks off-screen and then back at Sokka, trying to stammer out a response. There's something about making Zuko blush with every other question that is really getting to Sokka. "What?" he asks, his mouth quirking up into a smile as he tries fighting off his own blush.

"It was random, Kate just pulled someone from the comments and- set it up," he doesn't look at Sokka when he says this so he knows that Zuko is partially lying, but he won't call him out on it... yet.

"Ah, well, what comment did I leave that made her click on me?" Sokka thought this was an innocent enough question, but the way Zuko's blush deepens, he can only guess. Actually... he doesn't even need to guess, he knows what comment it was. "Oh... yeah, I know which one, don't say that out loud, uh..." Sokka starts. In his defense, he was incredibly stoned when he posted that comment to Zuko's Instagram account.

The picture in question was of Zuko lying on the edge of a pool, his drenched white shirt pulled up to expose his stomach. There were artfully placed droplets of water scattered about on his face and the way the sunlight- or artificial light, whatever- brought out his light brown eyes, making them look like dripping honey.

The comment that Sokka had left isn't exactly something he is proud of and to be honest, he completely forgot about until now. What I would do to have this man underneath me isn't exactly something that screams 'strike up a conversation with me'.

His ex, Suki, had beat manners into him and how awful it is to degrade women by talking like that, and of course, the sentiment extended to men. But, Sokka was never very good at keeping his mouth in check while under the influence, so he knows what he said wasn't exactly 'chivalrous'.

Zuko finally looks back up at the camera and gives a small laugh at Sokka's sudden awkwardness, "Now who is the one that's nervous?"

Sokka snorts, not expecting the joke to come from him, "Oh, he's got jokes?" he asks through his laughter. It's weird how easy it is talking to Zuko, they're talking like they're both normal people instead of half the party being incredibly famous and the other half being incredibly not famous.

Zuko's smile brightens just a little and he visibly seems to loosen up the longer they talk. They start poking fun at one another as if they've been friends for years. It's only when he hears the familiar British accent off-camera that he knows their thirty minutes are coming to a close.

"it was really great talking with you, Sokka," Zuko says, his voice lowering slightly and making a warmth settle in Sokka's belly. God, the way his name sounds on this man's lips.

He gulps at the same time he tries to say, "Yeah-" he coughs a little, clearing his throat, "Yeah, I can't believe I actually got to meet you, it's unreal. You're unreal."

Zuko laughs a little, "I'm really glad we met, hopefully we'll talk again soon."

Sokka's eyes widen, "Wait, what do you mean-" but the Zoom call ends before he can even ask what Zuko means by Hopefully we'll talk again soon. How would they talk soon? There's no chance of them meeting in public, mostly because he doesn't even know where Zuko lives, but also because, what is the fucking chance that he would meet a celebrity when the only places he go4es to are the coffee house down the street, work, and the community college a town over?

He stares at the Zoom home page for a few minutes longer, trying to process the whole encounter. At one point, he thinks they were flirting, but he couldn't be sure, because, like, why the fuck would a fine-ass model flirt with him?

Shaking his head slightly, sure that he will wake up in a few minutes from some coma that he's been in, he stands up from the coffee table, scooping his phone into his hand, and starts down the hallway towards his bedroom.

He flicks on the light when he gets two notifications, one after the other, from Instagram. Opening his phone and navigating to the app, a smile breaks across his face.

Zuko.Sozin followed you

A new message from Zuko.Sozin 7:48 pm And yeah, I'd like to be underneath you, too.

Read the rest of the series on ArchiveofOurOwn.com

[3cremepie3]

Saw you were asking for twst requests…

Can I request the dorm leaders + Rook and Floyd reaction when mc/Yuu turns into a goose? I was thinking something like mc/Yuu turned into a goose from a potion class accident, and they act like the goose from Untitled Goose Game, but cuddlier. Like they are still a little menace, but also want to be pet and cuddled. Idk just have had this idea for a while but don’t really write fics or headcannons.

If you don’t want to do this request I completely understand as it is a bit odd. I hope you have a great day/night!

P.S.

here’s a turtle for u 🐢

Would you still love me if I was a goose? 🪿

Sypnopsis - how the Twst dorm leaders + Rook and Floyd would act if Y/n became a goose.

Warnings - destruction of property, miscommunication, swan favoritism, not fully edited (I'm writing this late at night)

A/n - this was so adorable poor Twst boys having to deal with y/n lol!

Leona

Would not stop making fun of you. How could you be so stupid as to mistake that potion for your water? Now you're a goose for 24 hours. He can not stop cracking up as Crewel removes him from class. He’s given the assignment to take care of you. Animals other than beastmen aren’t normal around campus someone like Ruggie might just try to cook you up.

After he tells you this you honk in fear trailing behind him. “Let’s go to your dorm some beastmen might smell you and try to dig in,” he laughs. You bite his tail in retaliation and he slaps you with it knocking your small body on the ground. “Sorry, I didn’t realize how fragile geese are.” He picked you up by the wing to examine you.

Your hair was still the same color and despite having no human features he could still see your scowl. “Cute as always he chuckled.

Riddle

Was awe-struck as Ace and Deuce told him the story. But he was even more awestruck at your behavior. Dating him meant following the rules but your new form brought out a new you. One that terrorized anyone in the rose garden. Your behavior of biting, honking, and chasing members away caught his attention.

“What is the meaning of this behavior,” he yelled. You honked back running away from him. He followed you as you shifted through bushes to your usual hangout spot. “Oh I see you just wanted to lead me here,” he grinned.

“Even in goose form, you’re the same.”

Vil

Would come home to find his dorm room a mess. Most of his makeup was half opened and he almost died in that spot seeing his flower knows collection spattered about. “Who would do something like this,” he gasped.

He turned to see you hiding in a corner of his bed behind his weight. He picked you up by your legs dangling you upside down. You honked at him so loudly that the hair blew away from his face.

“What’s the problem spudling you keep wailing about?” You honked turning your head to his nightstand. Vil looked dropping you on his bed. “I do makeup,” he stuttered. “Oh, you want to do my makeup?”

“You still have your priorities straight even in goose form I see.”

Azul

“You’re staying in here until you can stop harassing my customers.” Azul slammed the door to his office locking you in. The mostro lounge was an absolute mess and as much as he loved your presence normally you oh were now bad for business.

Jade and Floyd had to chase you and you were an expert at hopping over tables and into customers food. Such a wide variety was in your hands you ate squid and caviar. It was yummy until they finally caught you. “You’re lucky we don’t cook you up geese meat is hard to come by,” Azul smirked.

You wailed around trying to escape his grasp but he ultimately caught you. Now you waited in his office hopping and flying off his desk. “I’m back.” He came in his office kicking off his shoes and sitting in his office chair exhausted as usual.

You honked as quietly as possible trying to get his attention before you flew into his lap. Your head settled on your body as you relaxed.

“You still want to sit in my lap even in goose form? God you helpless,” he huffed.

Kalim

Would be understanding. Animals and him just clicked he shared no blood with beastmen yet they were always friendly to him. People side-eyed the both of you running along Scarabia’s open architecture.

You played the iconic game of duck duck goose. This new form wasn’t anywhere as limiting as you thought. Your boyfriend took good care of you bringing you were ever you requested and feeding you bird food they already had on hand.

At the end of the day, you honked happily snuggling with him. “Aww was that a I love you,” he asked.

Rook

The day with him would be a content one. He kept you in his room hidden away from Vil and others that may be upset with you there. Geese aren’t exactly a form of beauty they aren’t white and pure like swan. But Rook didn’t care to him you were the most beautiful bird to grace the planet.

That's why he watched you like the huntsman he was. He noted how your mannerisms stayed the same. Your head moved although you were rolling your eyes as he whispered sweet nothings to you. And you plopped down on his chest like normal.

“I’m sure you’d be beautiful even as a frog darling. But I don’t think that can compare to this form.”

Floyd

This would be the best day of his life. He just couldn’t stay bored while dating you. Now instead of his lil Shrimpy you’re a goose. One that looked dangerously small in his large hands.

He was tasked with watching you meaning you had to go with practice and work with him. You tried your best to sit on the sidelines but people were quick to almost trample over you. So you bit their legs. Eventually, the others protested over your presence and agreed to kick you out.

You honked them out and flipped them off with your imaginary hand. “Y’all heard them,” Floyd chuckles. Obviously, he wouldn’t be able to bring you to work. That was boring anyway he had better ideas.

“How about we test your swimming skills, lil ducky?” You honked instantly trying to escape his arms.

Idia

Would be in full-on panic mode. You an animal near his thousand-dollar equipment. You could kiss that dream goodbye. Ramshackle would be your habitat. He dropped you off there saying he had a 1v1 to handle with a sweat. He rushed back quickly not noticing you wailing behind him.

Soon he was in Ignihyde preparing for his match. “Ortho prepare your applause,” he snickered. He turned to look at his doorway expecting his brother but no you were there tiny in fracture but bold enough to disturb his peace.

“Ahhh how are you even more annoying as a peaceful animal troublemaker,” he sighed.

(I had no idea what I could’ve done for malleus sorry 😶)

[megamindsecretlair]

It Started With a Whisper - Chapter 4

Chapter 3 Chapter 5

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Some sentences are intentional AAVE. Cursing, SMUT. Unprotected PIV (wrap it!), oral fem receiving, fingering fem receiving, dirty talk, pet names, possession kink. Mentions of emotionally abusive family, family trauma, and caregiving. I'm fudging the timeline a bit. Dom Sam, some fluff. Sorry if I missed some!

Summary: You are the front desk clerk who started a few months ago and you have a major crush on Sam Wilson, the handsome and sweet trauma counselor. Sam took you on another sweet date, but you had other plans.

Word Count: 4,029k

Masterlist

A/N: Yeah...just yeah. I don't understand it myself, but WHEW! I've never been to DC, so don't shoot me. Don't forget to take breaks and hydrate! Bit long again, forgive me! Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! If yall understand the gif system on here, please let me know LOL

Taglist: @multiversefanfics @wanniiieeee @hidden-treasures21 @targaryenvampireslayer @chaos-4baby @leahnicole1219

Sam invited you out for a picnic. You hadn’t thought he was serious. So far, he had taken you on a few more dates, each more romantic than the last. Every time you arrived home, you had to pinch yourself. You couldn’t help waiting for the other shoe to drop, but maybe there wasn’t a shoe.

Maybe that was just who Sam was. He was thoughtful, kind, hilarious as hell, and you wanted to be around him more and more. The coffee dates at work weren't enough. Staying up with him on the phone wasn’t enough. Falling asleep to the deep tenor of his voice wasn’t enough. You saw him all day at work, talked to him all night, and went on a handful of dates.

So, on a crisp Saturday afternoon, Sam took you on an honest to God picnic in Gravelly Point Park. It was a stretch of flat, grassy land with a spattering of trees in the distance. It overlooked the Potomac and on such a clear day, the Washington memorial was like a beacon. 

Overhead, planes flew by intermittently as they landed. You had mentioned that you loved watching planes once. And here you were, watching planes with Sam. He had spread a large red and black plaid blanket on the ground and packed you a few sandwiches, juice, water, fruit, and chocolate.

“Who helped you plan this one?” You asked.

“Smart ass. I did this myself. I need some credit,” he said. He looked absolutely delicious in a crimson sweater with the sleeves rolled up, dark jeans, and boots. He braced his arm on his leg and faced towards you.

You wore short pants and a breezy top. The weather was exceptionally nice. You brought a jacket just in case, but you loved to feel the sun on your skin. You turned your face towards the sun a little, your sandwich abandoned for the time being.

“Do you always eat so slow?” Sam asked.

“Shut up!” You said and laughed. You picked a piece of bread off of your sandwich and threw it at him. He caught it and laughed, chucking it into his mouth. You watched him lick his lips. 

You casted your eyes towards your sandwich while your mind went to all sorts of dirty places. “I got used to making sure my family ate before I did,” you said. 

It still wasn’t easy talking about your family. You promised to do so, but you kept waiting for Sam to get frustrated like Ariel did. For him to cut you off or reprimand you for catering to them before you catered to yourself. You looked at him. He looked at you patiently, no hint of judgment or recrimination. 

You sighed. Sam didn’t do anything to you. And in your mind, he was America’s most wanted. It soured the delicious taste of the sandwich on your tongue. Your emotions were all over the place. And it wasn’t fair to him.

“Somewhere, somehow, my mom just…stopped being my mom. The dynamics shifted. I became the parent and she became my child. By extension, so did my siblings. And it’s not their fault. It’s no one’s fault. But it’s not easy breaking those habits,” you explained.

“What have you tried to do to break it?” He asked.

You shrugged and ate a bite of the sandwich, letting the rich flavors give you an excuse not to answer right away. A plane flew overhead and you watched the underbelly, trying to guess which airline it was.

When you finished, you looked at him. “Little things. Making my siblings do more of their share. Not running like a hound whenever my mom needs something.” 

Sam nodded. “People don’t always like to change when they’ve gotten used to someone taking care of them.” 

“My mom is the worst. She expects it like…like I need to serve her before anyone else. And God forbid I make dinner and put my plate down first. You’d think I slapped her. So of course, I feel guilty and try to make it better. Then my food is cold and now I’m pissed.” 

Sam nodded. “Have you talked to her about it?” 

You chewed on another bite of sandwich, mulling your answer over. “How do you get a brick wall to understand that they’re hurting you? I tell her things, like hey, this is bothering me. She says sorry but keeps doing it.” You shrug. You avoided his gaze. You hated talking about your mom.

Somehow, it always made you feel crappy. As if you were a horrible person talking about the woman who birthed and raised you. Pathetically, you clung to the memories of when your mom was full of life. When she would swing you around and dance with you in the kitchen during Thanksgiving. It was hard to look at her now when she needed so much attention and care. 

“Hey, tell me about what you would be doing if you weren’t at the VA,” he said with a smile. He was giving you an out. Try as you might, it was difficult to guard your heart against him. 

You smiled. “I actually don’t know. I wanted to do a lot of things while I was in college. I studied a lot of different things. I thought I wanted to be a teacher, or psychologist, or criminologist. I volunteered once at a homeless shelter, got to talking to some of the vets. Reminded me of my dad, since he served. I switched to a social degree, so VA there I went,” you said. 

Sam nodded. “I love that. You work really well with people.”

“You’re just trying to butter me up,” you said. You finished off your sandwich. Sam chuckled and took a sip of water. You watched him drink it, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. You looked over the expanse of his neck, his wide shoulders, and the forearms visible because of his rolled sleeves.

Another plane flew overhead and you snapped out of it. You shouldn’t be openly ogling him. But how could you not? He was so damn hot. 

“Come here,” Sam said.

You looked at him, confused, but scooted closer. You sat at an angle so that your shoulder was pressing into his chest. He ran his thumb over the corner of your mouth.

“You had some mustard there,” he said. He pushed his thumb into your mouth and you licked away the mustard. A tingle spread from your thighs outward. Sam pulled his thumb away, his brown eyes darkening as he looked at your mouth. You looked at his.

He kissed you slowly with all of the time in the world. He licked your lips and you made a noise in the back of your throat. You scooted closer to him, though there was nowhere to go. He sucked on your bottom lip, drawing it into his mouth like he wanted to devour you.

Sounds receded. There was only his breath fanning over your and the slide of his fingers around the back of your head, drawing you closer. Your hand was on his thigh, feeling the muscles bunch.

You could have sat there for a minute or an hour. It was you and him and the soft breeze. The tingle worked its way up one side of your body and down the other. Your panties grew damp as he kissed you. He nibbled on your bottom lip before swooping back in for another pass. 

Painfully, he leaned back and you chased him before he pressed his forehead against yours. “Been hurtin’ for your kisses lately,” he whispered against your lips.

“It’s all I can think about,” you confessed. Whenever he spoke, whenever he laughed, you were drawn to the way his mouth moved. To his wide lips and the way he smiled. He either smiled like he knew a secret you didn’t or like the whole world was his for the taking. 

“Come back to my place,” he said.

He hadn’t phrased it as a question, more of a quiet demand. Without hesitation, you smiled. “Race you to the car.” 

He chuckled as you leaned away and started helping him pack away the picnic. A thrill raced through you. Anticipation made your movements jerky, out of control. Both of you were giggling and out of breath as you shoved the remaining food and fruit into the basket. 

You stood up and Sam picked up the blanket and shook it out. He didn’t bother folding it neatly. He rolled it into a messy ball and grabbed your hand. He dragged you to the car and giggles escaped you.

At the car, he gave you a quick peck. He opened the door for you and took the basket out of your hands. He threw it into the backseat with the blanket. You got into the car, out of breath and a little sweaty. He closed the door behind you and jogged to his side of the car.

He got in and looked at you, reaching over and grabbing your chin to pull you in for another kiss. “Start the damn car, Sam,” you said. He chuckled.

You ran your hands over your thighs to dry them. You were wound tight, full of raw need. Desire pooled low in your belly. 

Sam chuckled and started up the car, peeling out of the parking lot and headed towards his place. Once there, Sam let you out of the car but couldn’t resist pulling you close. You wrapped your arms around his waist as he kissed you again. 

You both giggled as he pulled away. Barriers had fled out of the window. There was no time for thinking. You felt like a teenager again, making out for the first time. Everything was new and vibrant.

You wanted to keep touching him. To rub the soft fibers of his sweater in between your fingers. To feel the rough denim of his jeans. The smoothness of his skin. He nuzzled your temple and took a deep breath.

He grabbed the food and blanket from his car before taking your hand and walking up to his place. It was lovely on the outside. A small townhome suitable for a bachelor. He let you walk in first and you braced yourself for the worst.

There was no need. The place had an inviting, colorful feel to it. You immediately stepped into his living room, with a small couch and table. There were pictures and paintings on the wall. He had a lamp with a wooden base over by the window. His living room walls were green but it didn’t look like it carried all over the house.

He had a surprisingly large dinner table for just one man and you peeked at his small kitchen with oak cabinets. Sam dumped the blanket on his couch and the basket on his table. Then he grabbed your hand and tugged you upstairs to his room.

You didn’t notice a thing as he pulled you into his bedroom. The walls were a deep, deep ocean blue. His bed was neatly made, military corners. 

Words were unnecessary. You undressed each other. You took off his sweater to reveal the black tank underneath. He lifted your shirt and his eyes narrowed at your dusty rose bra. He licked his lips as he stared at your chest. 

He smiled as you reached for each other’s pants, unbuckling it. He wasn’t super tall, but you did have to look up at him. Into his beautiful eyes. He kissed you as you worked the jeans off of his hips. In your haste, you both forgot to kick off your shoes. You laughed as you undid your sandal straps and he kicked off his boots. 

Then, the jeans blessedly came off. He wore black briefs and you stared openly at his strong, muscular body. Where the hell was he hiding all of that? You stared at his ass plenty of times over the months, but you had no idea he was packing all of that. 

His dick tented his briefs and twitched the more you stared at it. “Pants,” he said, snapping you out of your trance.

You huffed playfully and finished removing your own jeans and showing off your matching underwear. He whistled, low, and his eyes roamed over your body. “You are so damn gorgeous,” he whispered. It was so quiet in the room, it was like he shouted it.

You grinned at him and he approached you. The feverish desperation you had at the park and car came back tenfold. You ripped at his shirt, shoving it over his head. Your hands roamed over his chest and stomach. He didn’t have a traditional six pack. He was packed with muscle but it was sturdier, healthier, with some weight to him. You salivated over his body.

He grabbed both of your wrists in one hand and used his other to snatch the thin cover off of his bed. He shoved it to the side and prodded you to get onto the bed. His bed didn’t sit that high off of the ground, it was the perfect height for his waist.

He followed after you, laying his weight on you and kissing you deeply and passionately. His hands wandered all over your body as if he didn’t know where to grab first. He squeezed your boobs, caressed your belly, and grabbed your fleshy thighs. He settled in between your legs and fit like a perfect puzzle piece.

You relaxed into him the more his hands moved. Your arousal leaked out of you. His dick rubbed against you over your panties and you gasped and sighed, needing more. You were so turned on, you grabbed at his bare back. You ran your nails over it and he trembled on top of you.

He broke the kiss and looked at you. “You’re so fucking sexy, my God,” he said. You laughed. “Me? You should have told me how fuckin’ hot you were under those old man clothes,” you said.

“Old man clothes?” He gasped. He started to tickle you and you squirmed. You pleaded with him to stop. He didn’t. He went for any available area of skin he could tickle and you scooted up the bed, trying to get away from you.

He made a disapproving noise and leaned back. He grabbed your ankles and pulled you back down the bed. Your mouth dropped in a perfect ‘O’ and he nodded. “Thought I was gonna let your sexy ass get away?” 

Mistakes were made. You giggled nervously at the ravenous look in his eye. “I’ll never do anything you don’t want me to, okay? Just say stop, and I will,” he said.

You nodded. “I want this,” you told him. He grinned. That was all the invitation he needed. He grabbed your panties and pulled them slowly over your hips and thighs. He kissed the length of them as he dragged them off. 

He tossed your panties to the floor and pried your legs open. He panted as he got his first look at the core of you. There was no way to mistake the glistening wet center of you. He took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes.

You worried something was wrong before he got off of the bed and yanked you closer. Your ass half hung off of the bed and he was the only reason your legs hadn’t hit the floor. He knelt, keeping his eyes on you. 

He kept them trained on you until he couldn’t anymore. His tongue darted out, teasing your pussy lips before he truly dived in. Your back arched off of the bed as his warm tongue lapped up everything you had leaked out.

“Fuck,” he whispered against your pussy. He consumed you. His tongue played dirty, filthy tricks on your clit. His wet sucking and licking filled his bedroom and you held on to his arms. 

Your thighs shook and the heels of your feet dug into his back. You moaned loudly and breathlessly. Desire gutted you and made you move and squirm. Sam held on to you tightly, not giving you much room to wriggle. 

He looked up at you, pausing what he was doing. Your juices dripped down his chin and there was a long spit chain from his mouth to your pussy. He placed a sloppy kiss to your thigh and then bit it. You cried out.

“I’m gonna get you there,” he promised. He licked your clit once, twice, and then went back to sucking. 

He sped up, as if he could feel your pussy convulsing around nothing. “Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam…” you chanted over and over, gripping his arms. He moved his hands up until he clasped yours, your hands gripping each other's’. You exploded all over his face. You wailed through your orgasm. And he kept sucking throughout it all. 

You calmed down but your heart was beating a million miles a second. Sam stood up and wiped his mouth with his discarded shirt. He smirked at you. You were sure you were a mess.

“Got damn, woman. You’re gonna be the death of me,” he said. He swiped his fingers through your folds. You were still sensitive and jerked under his grasp. He helped you scoot up the bed. He grabbed your hands and pulled you into a sitting position so that he  could free your titties.

He licked the remnants of your orgasm on his lips before climbing on top of you once more. He kissed you and you tasted yourself on his tongue. You crushed him into your body. He wasn’t nearly close enough. 

He chuckled as he kissed down your jaw, to your neck, to your chest. He licked one titty while his hand toyed with the other one. His free hand went back to your slick folds. He rolled his finger around your clit until slipping a finger inside you. 

“I need one more,” he said. He looked at you while he switched his attention on your titties. One hand held himself up in the bed while he suckled your other boob. His hand continued to pump in and out of you. 

“Sam…” you said. You weren’t used to cumming that many times. Your max was about two. He lifted his head from your chest and smirked at you. 

“Give me one more, little one,” he said. 

You clenched around his fingers and he smirked. “Oh, you like when I call you ‘little one’.” You shamelessly clenched again. He grinned evilly and got a mischievous glint in his eye. You got the feeling that you just handed a lit match to a firestarter.

He leaned back onto his knees and pulled his finger out, licking his finger. He grabbed your hand and trailed it down his body until he made you cup him. He was big. Bigger than you had ever encountered and your eyes widened slightly.

“I want to give you all of this. But I also want you to be comfortable,” he said. You nodded. 

“Words, little one,” he said. 

“Yes, Sam,” you said and rolled your eyes. 

He released your hand and sat back on his legs as he spread your legs wider. “You made such a mess for me,” he said as he surveyed your pussy. You giggled breathlessly. He returned his fingers to your pussy, moving it back and forth. You made little stuttering moans that made him grin wider.

He added a finger and then a third one. Then he rubbed his thumb along your clit. Soon, you were shaking and convulsing until you were slapping pathetically at his hand on your thigh.

He only chuckled and tilted his head at you. “Aww, you can’t handle it?” He asked.

You shook your head back and forth until he pressed his thumb harder and you came again. “Fuuuck,” you moaned.

You panted as Sam stood up and pulled down his briefs. His thick cock bobbled as he freed himself, precum already dripping out of him. He stroked himself and you licked your lips, watching every glide of his fingers on himself. 

“I’m clean, I haven’t been with anyone in about a year. My last check up was last month,” he said.

“Pill,” you said absently, still watching. You came twice and still you wanted more. You wanted more from him. Sunlight poked through his blinds and slanted over his beautiful naked body. He was like some god, standing over you, ready to corrupt you. 

He climbed back onto the bed, kissing the daylights out of you. Your tongues meshed together, sloppy, wet, and your harsh breaths mingled. 

Sam slotted himself in between your thighs and rubbed his cock up and down your folds, collecting as much of your arousal as he could get. Then he entered you on a vicious growl. His forehead dropped to the crook of your neck.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned. 

You gasped around the fullness of him inside of you and he wasn’t even fully seated. You bit at his shoulder and he twitched inside of you. He moved, nearly out of instinct. He felt too good. “Don’t stop, please,” you pleaded. 

You wanted what he offered. You wanted him deep inside of you. You never felt more connected than you did right then and there. You never wanted him to leave this spot. This right here. Him above you, framed by the setting sun, licking your neck. In his eyes, you felt like the most beautiful person in the entire world. 

Sam had a bubble and if you were lucky enough to get inside of it, he made you feel like you were soaring. Flying. He began to stroke and move his hips, speeding up with every slide. You held on to him desperately, communicating without words that you were there. You were there to greedily take everything. 

Your hands cradled his head as pistoned inside of you, groaning. “So fucking good, so fucking good,” he murmured against your skin. 

You were probably loud as hell in his ear but you didn’t care. You couldn’t contain this one. Your orgasm built and clawed its way to the surface. Your nails dug into Sam’s back and he nodded.

“Just like that, little one. Let it go for me, baby. You take me so well, little one. So fucking well,” he said.

“Sam…I’m so…cl-” You muttered in between strokes. Your voice was small, thin, and more like a tinny wail. 

He sped up even more, driving into you and driving you into the bed. He lifted your legs some and drove in deeper. “Oh shit,” you squeaked before you were cumming on his dick. 

“That’s my little one,” he praised. He moved his head and gave you a sharp kiss. He bit your lip and you continued to moan through your orgasm.

He came with a deeply satisfied moan. He pushed into you as far as he could go. Making sure that you took every last, single drop. You were both slick with sweat. You ran your hands up and down his back as he huffed.

He dropped on top of you, his full weight crushing you to the bed. You welcomed it all. He twitched inside of you and you squeezed his hips with your thighs. You didn’t want him to leave just yet.

You wanted to take a picture of him right here and now. Freeze this moment forever. There was no drama, no family, no worries. There was just you and him connected. 

He kissed your cheek, jaw, and forehead. You both groaned. The mind was willing to keep going, to make this moment stretch for eternity. But the flesh was weak. You did not have a fourth one in you right now. There was no way.

Sam leaned up so he wasn’t still crushing you. You smiled at him. You were both a sweaty mess. And he never looked sexier. 

“Can you stay with me?” 

You caressed his face, his cheeks, and played with his short goatee. You nodded. “I’ll stay,” you said. 

Masterlist | Chapter 3

[bonjas]

season 2 predictions:

I feel like I saw way more behind the scenes stuff that I never saw in the actual show, leading me to believe that either A. they already knew they would get a season 2 and filmed it at the same time or B. what was originally filmed was split up, hence why it feels so choppy. BUT probably neither of these things are true I'm just projecting 😩 cuz I still can't wrap my head around this season

I predict season 2 will bring us back to the original plot of Armando and Betty dating on the down-low and sneaking around behind everyone's back and that's how they reignite their relationship, and it's gonna end in another wedding for them.

there's sooooo much to talk about from the last two episodes but I'm too tired to really dive in, I can only think in bullet points lmao:

did I miss something? why did all of a sudden Hugo end the union/strike? that made no sense 😩

how did Mila and them even know about the papero and how to get there.....again did I miss something lol (edit: I forgot they're the original Ecomoda bodegas, but still they were acting like they knew exactly who he was, how lol)

the timeline was so fucked up. so you're telling me they ended the strike, Mila finds out that night about her mom and dads past, the next day Betty goes on the trip to cartagena and they're doing the fashion show at the same time? how did it get done so fast?! no one bothered to ask their president if they could do it, had the funds for it, bothered to ask her to come? HUH????? 💀 showing random shots of sewing and fabric doesn't do shit to show the passage of time 😭😭

the ADR by the beach sucked so bad it looked AI generated lmao. I'd rather have shitty ocean wave audio like in the original lol

Armando's lawyer continues to make no fucking sense as to why she even wants to be with him, it's a useless storyline with no context other than "of course she'd want to be with Armando Mendoza" and just serves as a "see, he's changed he's not hitting on other women" plot device

Betty's lawyer at least got to be cute and have actual interactions with her that help us make sense as to why she'd wanna make out with him 🤪 do yo thang girl

mila and nacho practically living together - huh?????? this novela is HORRIBLE at timelines, sense of time moving, days passing, literally without them saying that we would assume that was their second time sleeping together. bad bad bad.

mila going through the same betrayal as her mom - sorry I rolled my eyes at that one 😭 trying to wrap everything up in a bow having Mila discover the truth by somehow magically guessing his password, finding everything, spilling the beans during the meeting, all in one episode trying to have us connect to her heartbreak, girl we never fucking liked him lmao!!!!!!!! he was always ick as fuck u have horrible judgement 😭

glad her and Betty have essentially mended things but lmfao still have no idea why she was sent off for 5 years like that's not an insignificant time frame, 15 to 20ish is a HUGE stage of life and to have missed that??? like what?? but they depicted Mila so terribly I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop every time there was a "sweet" moment between them because they didn't give me any reason to think she was being genuine, I think that's a huge failing on their part cuz they never showed the love between them only Mila hating her, right to shopping and hanging out, there was a huge disconnect for me.

Mario you were fired, armando "rejected" your firing but what are you even doing here bro

Jeff and his relationship and their drama with Mila is so blah why is it even in this. Mila you suck for kissing him knowing he has a gf wtf? Also her hairstyle at the fashion show was giving Troll doll what did they do to you girl!!!

not letting Betty have a moment with her dad to actually talk about the diary is such a cop out, it could have been a beautiful moment in him confessing that he still failed her after trying so hard to protect her and she married the man that caused her the most pain and she couldve been like yeah it's pretty fucked up it's why I'm getting a divorce, after all that I feel like he still didn't accept us as his family~ or SOMETHING. crumbs, it's all I'm asking.

Ignacio being a sibling instead of a nephew is sooooooooo duuuuuuuumb lmfao literally serves no other purpose than to make people go GASP!!!! no purpose.

I FORGOT TO BRING IT UP BEFORE, WHY DID THEY MAKE BETTY FALL DOWN THE FUCKING STAIRS AT ECOMODA LIKE THAT A WHILE AGO LMFAOOAAO WE ALREADY KNOW SHE'S CLUMSY YOU MAKE HER DROP OR CRASH INTO SHIT EVERY EPISODE

[mrsbsmooth]

Hey girl! Just saw your post and I'm sorry if I ever made you feel that way. 💕 I totally respect your decision to keep playing and while I have stopped doesn't mean I ever expected one of my fave blogs to do so! The new guy is super hot and I was definitely looking forward to living vicariously through the lovely blogs I still follow on Tumblr ☺️.

I'm currently nervously waiting for the other shoe to drop with Jirayu on THTH3 🥺. I'm kicking myself for not picking Taz or literally anyone else 🤭. I'm too far in to give up though!

I hope your week gets better and the community as a whole does too. ☺️

Oh my god absolutely not under no circumstances!!!!! If I got any that were rude or dismissive I mostly just deleted them lol. I don’t post every ask as it is but those ones were easy to delete 😂 believe me I’ve LOVED your asks 🩷🩷🩷🩷 the asks I get screaming about the game or telling me your theories keep me going I stg 🥰🥰🥰

I still can’t believe fb didn’t restore your account and I’m so mad about it on your behalf.

Re: jirayu he’s GOTTA have a backstory, otherwise what was that convo with carmen???????? And nooooo from what I’ve heard, his spicy scenes are the best so 👀👀👀 plus best part is you can replay for free and change his hairstyle to an ugly one so you’re not tempted 💀

Love you