#i've pointed them out many times but i will point them out again: their little smiles own my fucking heart <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[omegaweiss01]

As I stare down my steel to-go cup, I see this itty bitty creature snoozing at the bottom with not a care in the world. Two questions come to mind:

One, how did it sneak in the house without the cats trying to kill it?

Two, how the fuck am I going to feed it with the animals I already have?

It opened its tiny, golden eyes and glanced up at me, its pupils round like a green anole's. It flicked its forked tongue at me. The scales on its back raised as it entered a defensive position, hissing as it did so. Its pupils retracted, becoming slit. Its back legs scrambled to gain traction against the metal interior of the cup; and that's when I saw it.

The poor thing was injured on its leg; likely by one of my aforementioned cats. I carefully dumped the tiny creature out in my hand, completely unafraid of its attempts at being big and threatening. All my life, I've lived in the country and spent my childhood catching bugs, frogs, and lizards for fun, so one itty bitty flying lizard wouldn't startle me any.

I carry the little dragon outside and carefully set it down on one of my plants. "I hope you like the smell of gardenias, buddy. This one is bound to bloom soon," I say. Not wanting to frighten it further, I turn to continue my morning routine; adding cleaning my to-go cup out on my list of things to do.

The next few days were...interesting. The little dragon suddenly became big, and became the protector of my small collection of potted plants. Any time the dogs approached, it would hiss at them, as if warning them not to approach further. It seemed to understand that the dogs were our pets, and eating them would only offend us. I gifted it the name, "Flower Child" ("Flower" or "Child" for short) and it seemed to accept the name gratefully.

Flower eventually grew too big for the yard, so we moved it to the fields toward the back of the family property. It loved its new home, and protected it the same way it protected my potted plants.

One day, we heard screaming and gunshots coming from the back of the property, and the telltale bellows of Flower protecting its home. I was the first on the scene, only to see two men laying flat on their asses pointing a gun at Flower, who towered over them menacingly. I quickly calm the scaly beast down, assuring him that everything will be okay. Then, I turn to the men. "Are you the dickheads who have been blasting music every now and then? What are you doing here?? You squatters?"

They both nodded hesitantly. I fold my arms. "Best get to skippin' back across the swamp. This is family property, and you're trespassing. If I or anyone who lives here sees you here again, no one will ever find your bodies, understand?" For added emphasis, I reach up and pat Flower on the snout. "Flower here will make sure of that."

Flower flicks its forked tongue at them. They nod urgently and scramble back into the woods. I turn to Flower. "They didn't hurt you, huh? How's your foot?"

Flower showed me its foot, which was completely healed by now. "Good. Hunt responsibly now, ya hear? Not too many deer; we like seeing them come in the fields at night."

I give Flower one last pat on its snout and go back to my house. I know, with Flower standing guard, no illegal hunting or squatting will ever occur again here.

I have my own personal guard dragon...a "Snap Dragon", if you will.

Early one morning, you start your normal routine of making coffee, but when you pull your favorite coffee mug from the cupboard, you find a very small dragon curled up in the bottom, sleeping contentedly.

[mythals-whore]

Some thoughts on fandom engagement

Post got long but TL;DR engagement is low, Never Ever Stop Creating! fandom is community and everyone needs to participate

extended thoughts and personal anecdote under the cut:

For writers:

I have turned off Kudos emails from ao3. I found myself checking my email and feeling discouraged when I didn't get them. So i turned the emails off so I wouldn't know I wasn't getting them. Even now when I go to my dashboard, I specifically do not look at the bottom of the work to see those numbers.

This is not me telling you to do the same thing. It is easier said than done, and I understand that. But that's what I had to do to have a good time.

Because for a little while, posting made it less fun. I felt like people didn't like it. I was being overly critical of myself, couldn't write more than three sentences without feeling like I was garbage and my work was garbage and I should just quit. I would post a chapter and then immediately want to take the whole thing down. But then I realized...

I have about four half-finished projects in my WIP folder. I have written like 500,000 words that no one has ever read. Because I had fun doing it! Because I enjoy writing!!

And the point of this isn't to say writers shouldn't want or expect engagement. That is not at all what I'm saying!

What I am saying is that if you enjoy writing and you find that posting your work is making you feel unmotivated, discouraged, and you're not having fun anymore it is okay to take it down. It’s okay to make your work private for a while. It's okay to turn off Kudos emails or even comments. Whatever you need to do to make it fun again, do that. If you enjoy creating, please do not let the lack of engagement stop you!

It's been really helpful for me to find a community of creators! Without the support of @thedissonantverses @flowersforthemachines and @basedonconjecture I may have deleted my work months ago!

And that said, if you want someone to read your work, there are so many people (including and especially me) who would love to read and promote you! Participate in WIP Wednesday and Writing Weekend! Promote your own work!! Promote other creators' work! This is how we build community!

For readers:

If you love fanfic, and fanart and fandom in general engage with it. The urge to take down your work is real! And not unique to me! If writers don't get kudos or comments or replies on tumblr, they will delete their work. If there's a fic you find, and you enjoy it but you don't engage with it do not be surprised if you log on one day and it isn't there anymore. Or if it gets orphaned. Or if they simply stop updating it.

Fandom is meant to be a community. The whole purpose of it is to enjoy the things you enjoy with other people. If you're consuming free work (be that fanfic, fan art or something else) and you're not liking or reblogging or commenting then those people will stop sharing it.

And my personal take, while we're here: I do not get it.

I do not understand why there are people out there who do not jump at the chance to directly engage with authors and artists who make things that you enjoy. You can tell them personally how much you like their work! You can ask them questions! You can send them your unhinged ramblings on The Character.

And before anyone comes to my replies and says: I never know what to say ))):

Here is a non-comprehensive list of 10 slightly unhinged things that I've actually commented on fics (some edited for brevity)

I am chewing on glass.

bye i’m putting my fist through the wall 😭

These two are consuming my every waking thought

That ruined me i fear. I have passed away

THIS IS LITERATURE. absolutely tore my heart out.

You are sick in the head my friend

Im gonna sip on this sentence a while.🤌🏻

how could you do this to them? writing about this in my burn book brb

A) You absolutely cooked here B) how fucking dare you?

 kicking my feet and giggling!!!!!

And this isn't just for ao3/fanfic writers. Fanartists deserve love too! Artists love feedback!! The more unhinged the better!! Tell us we're evil! Quote our work back to us! Tell us you're smashing through walls like the Kool-aid man! Tell us that our work is making you scream and cry and blush!

No one is expecting you to leave several long paragraphs with an actual annotated review (not that that wouldn't also be welcome). Comment! Engage! Community is the whole point!

This also goes for finding Tumblr mutuals, by the way. If you want to make friends with people on here engage with their content! Like their posts! Reply to them! Send asks and messages!

Stop being afraid to enjoy things! That is like...all we are doing here.

[blu3haw4]

Happy Clexaweek everyone! I bring to you today a new idea born from... such a random post. An anon sent me a prompt for introvert college gamer Clarke and Lexa and I couldn't resist. I build up their characters through asks and I've been having a lot of fun with it, So

Here's... (already on AO3)

The Sex Life Of Gamer Girls

Summary: Clarke and Lexa are introvert college student who unknowingly attend the same school. They both love gaming and they meet online, they love chatting with each other, and there's lots of flirting online as well. After learning they attend the same school -and a little awkward silence- they make plans to meet up.

“You’re still in your underwear!” Octavia groans, closing the bathroom door forcefully behind her.

Lexa turns to frown at her, despite knowing that attitude is more than justified. She’s changed too many times to count, and they don’t really have that much time until they must be at the theater for sound check with the rest of the orchestra.

It’s just… that she has a few options. Three pairs of pants and three blouses give her room to try them all a few times in different combinations, and that’s not even adding the jackets, which may change the outfit completely-

“Why are you so worried, I though Sky was just a friend”

“She is! And it’s Clarke-”

“Not the point” Octavia rolls her eyes; she knows Clarke and Sky are the same person.

“That she’s my friend doesn’t mean I don’t want to impress her” Lexa deadpans.

“Okay, and you don’t think the master solo you’re playing tonight will do the trick?” Lexa just huffs at her and turns to examine her clothes again.

Octavia groans again.

“Just tell me what’s up” She rolls her eyes falling into her bed. They both know what’s up, they’ve been best friends for too long and roommates for what feels like even longer to not know what is up.

Still, neither would say it.

“You’ve never cared about your looks other than the prize and brand of your clothes-“

“That’s not true”

“Yes, it is”

“No it’s not”

“And understatement then”

“Overstatement”

“Whatever!” Octavia growls and Lexa can’t help the triumphant smirk “If she’s really just a friend go black dress-pants, black shirt and the grey vest. You look cool, you dick”

Lexa’s smirk falls, she utters a response about the word sounding like dyke just to keep Octavia talking as she turns back to her clothes with a frown.

She knows she looks cool with the vest, profession even, some might say. The colors, or rather shades, are fitting for the play and she knows it’s going to be comfortable on her seat. And she knows Clarke is just her friend, her online friend that she’s going to meet in real life for the very first time. After a year of playing together and recently after an awkward couple of months since they found out they go to the same school, but ultimately, just her friend,

But she might be more, closer than expected, they flirt a lot, or at least Lexa thinks they do, sometimes, not that she has ever asked or acknowledge it with her, she doesn’t want to or would admit it -right now-…

“What if…” She sighs through her mouth, sitting down on Octavia’s bed and avoiding eye contact with her “cool… is not… what I’m going for”

A second goes by, then another. She counts to three before gazing over to Octavia. She’s narrowing her eyes and it’s clear she’s trying to tame the smirk raising, Lexa can’t help but join her.

“If… you would rather, let’s say, look… hot. Go with the leather pants and the green knitted sweater with the… big crunch turtleneck” Octavia hums “Your figure does “Woop!” She says, making an hourglass silhouette with her hands and winking at her.

“I don’t have an hourglass figure” Lexa rolls her eyes at Octavia’s defiant laugh. She stands to get the sweater regardless. It wasn’t within her first options, but it should work, she can envision the outfit in her head and… yeah, she does look hot in that.

“The tight ones?”

“No, the others. With the belt. You could also do heels.”

“I’m not doing heels” Lexa rolls her eyes, putting on an undershirt before grabbing the sweater.

“Your ass pops with heels. Sexy as fuck”

Lexa pauses, with the turtleneck half over her face, considers for a second and turns to look at Octavia. She’s already smirking, Lexa huffs as she pulls the sweater the rest of the way down revealing her own smirk.

“I’m just saying, Sky is going to love it, she would have to be blind to not want to kiss you”

“It’s Clarke” Lexa corrects as she slides the pants up and bounces to get them past her hips. She ignores most of the sentence and refuses to acknowledge the blush rising to her cheeks.

“It’s the same person! We both know who I mean”

“But I need us to get used to calling her Clarke”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been calling her Sky since we met, and she asked me to please call her Clarke when we see each other”

“Okay… but why?”

“Because it’s her name!” Lexa rolls her eyes. And okay, that is maybe a bullshit answer, but she doesn’t have to explain everything to Octavia.

---

There’s no need to, really, when Octavia has heard it all already. From the first time Lexa realized they never addressed each other by any names, through teasing when she heard ‘princess’ coming out of Lexa’s mouth for the first time, all the way to a few days ago when Clarke asked to "please, for the love of god, don't you dare call me Sky.”

It was a funny thing, a few memories that Lexa held dearly, close to her heart.

The first time they talked they greeted each other with ‘hi there’s and ‘hello’s and continued to talk directly about the game, they told each other coordinates and gave each other directions, they were the only two playing so there wasn’t any real need to clarify who they were talking to.

It went like that the first few times they played together, just greeting each other with ‘hi’s and ‘hey there’s while Lexa started to realize there were only two ways she could think of to call her new duo and one of them was ‘Princess’.

The first time she called her Sky wasn’t even talking to her, Lexa was telling Octavia all about her new online friend and she went with it and it just kinda… stuck. She still didn’t bring it up to Clarke for another while, Clarke hadn’t brought it up either, but they’ve talked once about potentially playing in teams of four which would inevitably force them to talk about it.

“We were just talking the other day that it would be fun to play squad but” Lexa tasked, she didn’t know why she felt so nervous “I mean, I would have to ask her a name or something, right? If we’re going to be talking with more people, I mean… But her username is SkyPrincess… and I’m not about to call her Princess”

Octavia eyed her suspiciously, because of course she noticed Lexa’s nervousness, she could’ve brought it up directly to this Sky, but instead she asked her best friend for advice.

So, it was her job… to tease her.

"I mean if you wanted to” she said suggestively.

"Octavia! No" Lexa blushed, because… maybe she did. A little. Secretly.

"Okay, but keep it in mind" Octavia winked at her before tasking and turning more serious “Just ask her. I mean it’s not like GaHeda gives any indication of your name. It translates to Girl Commander”

“She could think of calling me Heda”

“Didn’t you already tell her what it means? She would be having the same argument we’re having with her friends”

Which might as well be the case, she didn’t ask, but she got a better grip on her emotions by the time the subject of playing squads was brought up again.

“Should we play with open mic?” She asked.

“I mean… sure, it would be   fun. Does it matter?”

“Uhm not really I just… I would need to know... how to call you, so we can communicate better.” Lexa paused. “Cause I’m not gonna call you Princess"

“What if I am an actual princess?”

“I... you aren’t- are you?” Lexa stutters, not that she believed so, but… could it-

Clarke snorts, unable to keep up her own lie “no… but I could've been” she joked, oh so pleased with herself.

Lexa snorted and rolled her eyes “Can't imagine a princess using Fornite’s open mic”

“Are you a princess? How would you know?”

“I could be. And that's the reason I wouldn't call you a princess”

“…You just stepped on your own lies” Clarke giggled out after a second.

“Whatever!” Lexa rolled her eyes again, she was smiling though, Clarke always made her laugh whether she was trying or not “Can I call you Sky or are you going to tell me your name?” She tried, smiling through it, no longer nervous.

“Will you tell me yours? Because I don't want to call you "Heda" now that I know it means commander... even though you are bossy” Clarke started laughing,

“You are bossy!” Lexa laughed with her.

They calmed into a few giggles “Okay, okay. I must admit I do like sky…” Clarke chewed her lip and considered for a second before adding “but uhm, my name is Clarke”

“Klark” Lexa tried out, and it made her smile.

“Mmh, sure, click the K however you'd like” She couldn’t help but murmur, trying to tame her smile.

“I'll stick with Sky then” It’s the tasked respond she gets, making her laugh a full belly laugh. She could almost imagine the eyeroll that accompanied it, if only she knew how Lexa looked.

“I should make you call me Heda just for that” Lexa huffed while she was still laughing.

“I'll call you Gabe if you don't tell me your name” She shot back, still giggling when she answered, not missing a beat.

“Noo! Iugh, that's awful” Lexa sounded truly disgusted “It's G-AH not G-ei-b. You're not trying to say g-ei-m. It's like g-ah-m-ah” she clarified, it was a different language after all.

Before Clarke could come up with a joke she added “aaand! My name is Lexa”

It paused Clarke. It’s pretty, it fits her in a way that she can’t fully understand. She tested it in her head for a second, mouthing it as her eyes roamed her screen, dreaming of putting a face to the name.

“Lex-ah” She smiled, unable to be serious for too long “... not lex-ei?”

“I’m disconnecting” Lexa sighed immediately through what Clarke simply knew to be a tamed smile.

“No wait!” She called out anyways, giving the seriousness Lexa was surely looking for… only for a little bit “Lex-aH is fine, Lex-aH is perfect, beautiful even"

She said without thinking, not realizing she put no filter in her words. She didn’t take it back, not embarrassed, no regrets. She hoped Lexa liked it… or at least didn’t hate it.

“You done?” Lexa asked in a dry tone that was just so… her. So used to be serious but hiding laughter behind it.

Clarke couldn’t help but smile knowing that she had got to know Lexa enough at that point to be able to tell those little details.

“If you forgive me, yeah” She tried with her brightest smile, knowing that even if Lexa couldn’t see it, she could surely hear it.

“Let's play then Sky”

“You're really not going to say my name again?”

“Noup” and there was laughter, slipping through a single word and making Clarke smile and giggle.

Clarke didn’t argue, she did laugh the first twenty times Lexa called her Sky, not caring that their different teammates couldn’t understand what was so funny.

Lexa continued to call her Sky every time after that day, and Clarke did end up calling Lexa Heda sometimes, mostly as a way to mock her bossy-ness, laughing at her -and maybe flirting a little- after Lexa described exactly what she needed to do.

Lexa got her turn as well, when Clarke was feeling serious and she took it upon herself to boss her around about weapon load-out and heals and locations, she would just throw in a “yess, princess!” not only making her blush but immediately disarming her.

It was annoying that she liked it so much.

Annoying that she liked Sky just as much, because no one else called her that, it was their thing, Lexa’s names only for her. There was always a specific tone that came with it as well, a tone to shifted and morphed through the months, when there used to be a teasing tilt now there was a softness to it, an affectionate tilt to the word, maybe a flirtatious one as well… or maybe Clarke was projecting.

There have been other names recently, proposedly thrown in there to test the waters on what exactly their relationship was about. It was a constant state of doubt, of overthinking and questioning if what she was doing was okay, if Lexa liked it or was just been polite, of whether she was actually clueless, and Clarke wouldn’t -couldn’t- blame her, she didn’t know what exactly she was doing either.

She couldn’t say that it had started recently, but it definitely felt like there had been a pause when they found out they went to the same school, and then they were back to it even stronger after the holidays.

It was a little over a year since the first time they played together when they talked about it for real. They both knew the other was a college student, but they didn’t know much else about it. They hadn’t really talked about it in depth, just the classic ‘oh I need to study for a class’ or ‘I have this group assignment’ and then they were back to talking about the game.

The only reason Lexa started asking more questions that time was because Clarke had joined the game three hours later than they had agreed, she was three hours late because a group meeting for a class she didn’t even like had run that late because everyone was knee on arguing with each other and they couldn’t agree on anything. Clarke was so tired and so pissed, Raven was out at a party with Nyilah and Echo had a terrible headache and Clarke just needed to complain about it to someone.

That night was the first time she shared about her career choice -by complaining about the classes that didn’t fit with it anymore- how she had only truly realized what she wanted mid semester and now she was stressing with a pair of classes that she didn’t like or care for, and it felt good to share with Lexa this new part of herself one she was really and recently excited about.

In turn, Lexa shared a little about her life as well, she told Clarke about the classes she was learning were not what she wanted, those subjects she learned she only liked as extracurriculars, she told her about her extracurriculars, and that it was very likely that anytime she said she couldn’t make it after class it was probably due to them, much more probable than her needing to study.

They talked about the different courses their schools offered and were surprised to realized they offered pretty much the same ones, they got suspicious when Lexa mentioned a science fair she attended a few day prior and Clarke remembered there had been one at her school as well. Neither of them really wanted to ask because they were afraid to be right; Clarke had never pondered the idea of actually meeting Lexa in real life, but suddenly it became all too possible when Lexa cleared her throat and reluctantly asked.

“Hey uhm… Clarke?” and that was already a change, Lexa calling her by her name always meant serious, though until this point nothing had ever been truly serious “are you… attending *Polaris University*?”

“I… am. Are you as well?”

“…Yeah”

They were in the middle of a game, so it wasn’t hard to shift subject and ignore the awkwardness, one that was born from… very confusing feelings. Because they both knew that if this was anyone else, they would close the game and block the person to never have to worry about it again, instead, because they liked each other so much they were caught in this limbo of what the fuck to do.

When they ended second place in their game and the options’ screen loaded in, Lexa asked “Ready up?”

“Yep, let’s go” Clarke answered, and they played for another hour before saying goodnight like any other time, only difference been not asking when they would get on again.

It was around the end of November so it wasn’t hard to use Thanksgiving as a self-told excuse to not play much -Lexa lying more than Clarke about not having the time, she retired back to other, offline, games since she wasn’t spending it with her family, and there's only so much time you can spend talking with your best friend when only one of you has a social life and you live together-

After Thanksgiving is finals time so it’s the same thing, neither ask the other to play and they don’t really chat over discord, but it still feels like they are giving out excuses even when they’re only in their heads. It’s around this time that Clarke finally tells her roommate and college best friend, Raven, about Lexa. Over the past year Raven has heard her name a few times, she’s never bother asking more though since Clarke also played with other people including her childhood best friends.

Clarke has no filter that day, she sits on Raven’s bed and asks for her help on her dilemma, she explains how she met Lexa and how great she is and how much she likes playing with her and how good it felt to tell her about her life and feel like real friends -she didn’t mentioned the flirting- but how that had led to finding out they were in the same school which then led to the awkward thanksgiving break that made Clarke realize she didn’t want to lose her but didn’t know how to move forward. Ultimately the answer was giving it time and Raven promised not to tease her about it… in front of their roommates.

Finals roll out and then winter break and they finally calm down a bit, Lexa has been playing on her own since Clarke hasn’t even started the launcher, but then a day before Christmas she gets on.

They’re both in their hometowns, it’s late at night for both and it’s easy to send a group request and play together, blaming their quietness on tiredness and just chilling in every game. Just like that, they start playing regularly again, Lexa confesses to being practically free all break long and Clarke jokes -and means it- that she’s going to use her as an excuse to get aways from too much family time.

They go back to school, and they go a few weeks playing without mentioning it, each pondering in their heads the chances of running into each other, of whether they would recognize the other and whether they would want that to happen.

It feels like they get to the same conclusion at the same time when they start tiptoeing around the subject. The flirting turns ON for real, silly still because that's who they are but oh so clearly there. It’s fun, and it’s easy to forget they were troubled by about a month with this when now it felt so easy.

Clarke starts very consciously saying "sorry, babe" and "babe, c'mon" during fights, Lexa leans much more into calling Clarke Princess, either while watching her clutch a 1v2, or when she's found her favorite gun and she’s bringing it over to her - Clarke misses snipers this season but will settle for the hunting rifle recently added- Lexa also sneaks a little "goodnight princess" every so often, that makes it impossible for Clarke to sleep those night, blushing and smiling like a fool while trying not to imagine other scenarios where Lexa could call her that.

The nagging feeling that it can all fall apart if she pushed too far is still there, and then Lexa brings up meeting up, very casually mentioning she’s going to be playing with the orchestra -because yes, she plays the piano- and she would like if Clarke could assists “I think you could like it, it’s quiet an epic set”

---

The doubts and questioning and overthinking only increased after they had agreed to meet up. And they are right there as Clarke changes outfits so many times, not deciding on color palette or style, and what she’s supposed to do for her make up, and her hair-

She tried to do all this freaking out during the week, preparing beforehand was a smart move, even though she wasn’t supposed to be stressing; Lexa was her friend… had to be, at least until they met for real and she figured out her feelings.

Hiding away from Raven … wasn’t her smarted decision. She Is, after all the only person who knows about Lexa, or how Clarke feels about her. She already knew her so well - sharing a dorm and a room together for a year and a half does that- of course she clocks Clarke’s internal struggle the minute she walks into their room, dressed and ready to be Clarke’s plus-one, and finds her in front of the mirror with three different tops on her hands, and none of them on her.

“Girl, really?”

Clarke turns straddled, wide eyes pressing the tops close to her body and blinks.

Raven closes her eyes and sighs, if she wants to laugh, she covers it perfectly, she drops her bags and massages her forehead before getting to work.

“Did you pick the bottoms?”

“Uhm-”

“Cargos, then, you look good, you’ll feel comfortable and they’re easy to match” Raven grabs one of the tops from her hands and throws it back to her bed “That one doesn’t. Are you going light or dark?”

“I… was thinking light” she swallows, she’s not intimidated… at all, it’s just that Raven is weirdly this serious and she’s unsure how to react. That’s all.

“Light blue one, I love those. These two don’t match though” Raven says as she grabs the remaining two tops and throws them as well. She finds Clarke’s cargos and throws them at her “Put them on” She says as she starts rummaging through Clarke’s closet.

“Ohhh look at you! you’re perfect” Raven gasps after a second “Listen I know you love cleavage” she says turning to face Clarke “but you don’t own this top for no reason” she smirks showing her a knitted, sleeveless crop-top color cream.

She doesn’t wait for an answer before she’s throwing it at her, she throws herself to her bed with a satisfied sigh and lets Clarke get dressed.

“I think you know you need to go with the combat boots, and for coats, just pick any of the high-end long-ass ones, I know you own a bunch but just don’t take forever. Actually, just go with the cappuccino one”

Clarke simply nods, going over her large selection of coats in her head as she finished dressing, confirming that, yeah, the cappuccino one is perfect. She’s a bit surprised at how… honest Raven’s help seems to be, she know Raven is a good friend and cares about her, it’s just that her help is usually accompanied by-

“I don’t know why you’re so worried about this- Scratch that I know why” Raven interrupts her thoughts, turning to her with a smirk.

Oh, there it comes.

The teasing.

“Obviously you’re like in love with this girl or something-

“I’m not!”

“-but I mean come on, you already know each other, she already likes you!”

“I’m not worried”

“And I’m not a genius, Griffin don’t lie to me!” She rolls her eyes “if you weren’t worried you wouldn’t have told me about her when you found out she was studying here” she raises her eyebrows, giving her time to say something even when they both know she won’t.

“You say she’s your friend, and you think she’s inviting you to this thing as a friend… but you don’t know if you want her to be more -Your words, not mine-”

“I know! Can you just… forget it, just today. Just be there, don’t mention it” Clarke pouts and then spins in place showing off her outfit to Raven.

“Hot” Raven nods and winks, and as Clarke walks to her closet to grab her coat and boots Raven sighs, long and tired “Fiiine, but only because I love you. And only today, I want all the details tomorrow. No gatekeeping!”

“Some gatekeeping”

“Only if you get lucky. I’ll forgive you wanting to keep the details of some gross love making”

“Raven!” Clarke scowls, blushing.

“Do we have a deal?”

“Ugh!” Clarke simply groans and walks out with her purse and phone.

It’s nerve wrecking, to stand backstage knowing Sk-Clarke!- is out there and will be able to tell who Lexa is immediately. It’s a little ridiculous that she’s not nervous about playing but about Octavia getting recognized by Clarke while popping her head out of the curtain to try and see if she finds her.

“How do you not know how she looks?” Octavia huffs as she closes the curtains for a third time.

“I told you, she just said she’s blonde” Lexa shrugs, she doesn’t want to stress out -more than she already is- trying to find Clarke in the audience, the chances of recognizing her were practically zero, she had no description, no picture, nothing.

“How will you meet up then?”

“I told her I play the piano, and that we can meet after at the… one of the exits, I don’t remember now” Lexa shook her head. Octavia rolled her eyes painfully and returned to her position between the curtains trying to see if she could spot Clarke.

She gets scowled at by their maestro and sent to her seat behind her drums a minute later and Lexa follows suit sitting behind the piano. She tries to focus on the sheets of music written in front of her, but her head is already running over any possible place Clarke could be sitting and how she might look from there.

‘So much for not stressing’ She scowls at herself, but it doesn’t stop her from spotting every blonde in the audience as soon as the curtains open. She closes her eyes a minute later as the greeting applauses quiet down and she takes a deep breath, focusing, tuning everything else out.

The music’s start with the piano and Clarke can’t comprehend how incredible Lexa looks leading the group. Raven asks which one is Lexa as soon as the curtains open and Clarke has to pause for a second, realizing she’s going to need a minute -or an hour- to process seen Lexa for the first time, so she lies, she tells Raven she doesn’t know. She’s honest when she tells her that they’ve never shared any social media or pictures of each other, but the reality is that there’s only one piano, and the pianist fits the description perfectly.

Lexa looks… majestic. The sweater is very feminine, the crunch turtleneck softens her broad shoulder, the light behind her accentuates her waist, as does the thick belt attached to the high wait of her pants that have no right making her legs look that good while sitting down. Clarke can’t tell from this far, but she wonders if the color of the blouse is a choice to accentuate that of her eyes. Her hair is tied back at the top by a few braids and the rest falls like a cascade over her back, her posture is pristine and relaxed, she moves with the music naturally and graciously.

Clarke can’t imagine how she’s supposed to stay friends with this girl.

The set ends with an explosive assembly, Lexa meets eyes with Octavia, both sighing heavily out before smiling brightly. As usual the standing ovation and exit of the stage is a blur, Lexa find Octavia out of the shared changing room, and they hug the rest of the adrenaline out.

And while still high on that feeling, on that excitement that is amplified by the thought of meeting Clarke, her stomach still crunches when she spots a blonde girl walking towards her with purpose at their agree exit. She’s looking at her, a smile growing bigger with each step, because of course she already knew who Lexa was, she had to have known from the moment the curtains opened and must’ve been watching her the entire set.

Lexa is breathless before Clarke can even reach her, because not even all the excitement in her body can make her heart cartwheel the way seen Clarke for the first time does.

Clarke is… gorgeous, she looks like a model striding towards her, the cappuccino coat gives her an air of confidence that matches her steps, the cargo jeans frame her hips perfectly, giving a teas of her tummy before the crop-top covers her from and reveals the slightest bit of cleavage. Her hair is loose, and her waves bounce with her steps. She’s wearing eyeliner, a simple strip of black line makes the blue of her eyes shine, or maybe that’s just the excitement.

When she’s finally withing reach, Clarke goes in for a hug; she lifts her arms before the distance is gone, shrugging a little as a warning to Lexa, barely missteps, cautions for only a fraction of a second, before she goes fully into it, deciding that it’s fine, because they’re friends, they have been for over a year now and it might be the first time they see each other in person, but this is how Clarke greets her friends, and she won’t apologize unless Lexa complains.

She doesn’t, she actually likes it, so much that it feels unreal. Lexa’s not a hugger, she only ever hugs Octavia but other than that she keeps physical contact to a minimum, and yet, she melts into the feeling of Clarke’s body fitting into hers. Clarke pulls her close and Lexa wraps her arms around her waist over the coat, she closes her eyes against Clarke’s shoulder and squeezes back when Clarke pulls her even tighter against her and sighs into her neck.

It's definitely a little too long before they pull apart and Lexa spares a thought to Octavia before she’s looking at Clarke again and all thoughts evaporate.

“Hey there!” Clarke breathes out as her eyes jump all over Lexa’s face, trying to take it all in at the same time.

They haven’t let go at all when Lexa laughs a little nervous “Hi”

---

It takes them both right back to the first few times playing together, all the excitement and nervousness to get to hang out again, the comfort of having fun with someone new, the insecurity of sounding cool that faded through time as they learned to be goofy with each other.

The very first time they played together was in the early morning of November first, Lexa had dropped Octavia off at the custom party of one of their soccer teammates before getting back home to play fornite -with her spookiest skins- She decided to play duos a few hours in and opened her microphone.

Meanwhile, Clarke came back from a frat party she went to with her friends -who all remained there or migrated to other parties- a little tipsy and knee on continuing to have fun she immediately opens the voice chat and starts playing duos.

Lexa is the first person to join the voice chat since Clarke started.

Clarke is the first match since Lexa opened her microphone.

They greet each other and Clarke is very excited to talk to someone, Lexa isn’t sure if she finds it endearing yet, but she plays along. At first all they say are technical stuff; where the other likes to land, with what strategies the other plays, which are you chosen weapons and such, better at shooting or building and such.

They communicate well during fights, and they actually win their first game. From then Lexa gets more friendly, she asks more specific questions about the game and preference whiting it, she laughs and tags along to Clarke’s idea of switching skins anytime they lose, Clarke asks her which are her favorite and they spend an entire game discussing old ones and new ones, Lexa can’t believe she agrees to put on the Christmas ones nor can she understand how Clarke convinced her to ‘go festive’ to ‘call for the Christmas spirit’

They learn through games and games what better strategies fit them better, Lexa is less coy -and maybe a little flirty, Clarke has a pretty voice- when admitting to feeling like a pro at building and editing them. In turn, Clarke’s confidence turns up as well going over the top to prove that her aim is unmatched.

They win countless games, and they go on for hours until the sun rises and they’re both shocked that they’ve been up so long. Joking and laughing they promise to get on another time and try playing ranked since “Clearly we’ve found ourselves the wining duo”. They disconnect with quiet goodbyes and go to sleep with untamed smiles.

For months to come they play together often, they get each other’s discords to be able to invite each other more often and the audio is often better as well.  They keep playing for months and months, through winter, spring and summer all the way back to fall.

---

Octavia, who has known about Clarke all along, and is casually standing behind Lexa, can’t help but think “Friends’ my ass” as she tries not to react at Lexa’s very unusual response to a hug. She stands there for even longer than she expects after they part from the hug and just hold each other.

Eventually they seem to remember they’re not the only people in the world and Lexa turns to look at her, finally -and maybe reluctantly- letting go of Clarke.

“Uhm, Sk-Clarke” Lexa slips for a second and Clarke’s eyes widen even while her smile seem to grow “This is Octavia, my best friend” she finishes, turning to Octavia with a blush raising from her chest up to her cheeks.

“Hey, I’ve heard a lot about you… and heard you a lot” Octavia winks as she extends a hand.

“Sorry about that” Clarke breath a laugh while Lexa frowns at her. Before they can fall into some awkward argument or silence Clarke continues “Well, I would love to introduce you to my roommate, who so kindly joined me” she give Lexa a look, a smirk is there and Lexa’s eyes shine with hers “But she has abandoned me as soon as we stepped out”

“Oh no, were we that bad?” Lexa jokes, still smiling, unable to stop. She can’t explain it and doesn’t want to think about how Clarke’s mare presence makes her so happy.

“Oh no, god, you guys were amazing! It was honestly so enchanting, it felt magical”

“Thank you” Lexa and Octavia answered automatically, they could both hear the genuine tilt of happiness in Lexa’s voice though.

“Raven’s probably off trying to find a party” Clarke added after a beat of smiling at Lexa.

She just couldn’t help it, Lexa was… so pretty. Beautiful, and hot and just- so attractive, but specifically pretty, her gaze had a softness that complimented the sharp angles of her jaw, and her smile? The way her eyes lit up with it and her nose seemed to crunch a bit as if she was used to taming it down, she was just so pretty, and Clarke didn’t even want to pretend. She was sure that after a few more conversations she would say it to her, just like she told her she liked listening to her voice after only a few times playing together.

“I’m uhm-” Lexa turned only for a second to look at Octavia “I’m pretty sure some of the boys are from a frat house, they surely have a party or something planned”

Lexa finds herself saying, unsure why and not really bothered by the implication that she would go to something like that. She doesn’t get the chance to clarify anything or for Clarke to ask her because Raven joins them, all cheerful jumping into Clarke’s back and shouting a ‘hey-yoo’ as a greeting.

Lexa’s eyebrows raise up to her hairline, her smile is too bright to fully fall, but there’s definitely a different feeling in her gut now.

“I landed us an invite to the celebration with the musicians! I already texted the girls. Did you find your chick?”

And now she is blushing -she’s not sure which is responsible, the implication that ‘your chick’ is more, is different, not necessarily a friend or that ‘your chick’ is said with familiarity, like Clarke talks about her like she’s… hers.

“Raven!” Clarke hisses, blushing as she pushes her off her “Don’t jump on me” she says trying to cover up for the phrasing. Because she’s not ready to process any part of that sentence, even when it’s only two words “Be nice This is Lexa, and her best friend Octavia. This is my roommate Raven”

“I’ve been denigrated to ‘roommate’!? You’re repaying me with extra shots tonight. Hi! It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you. Great play back there, by the way, gave me chills, for real!”

Clarke sighs, she tries her best at not closing her eyes -or rolling them- at Raven’s extra extrovert greeting. Lexa remains still, smile frozen and eyebrows still raised. She looks like a deer caught in headlights.

Clarke moves to try and say something, salvage the situation, but it seems to be all Lexa needs to recover.

“Hi. All good thing I hope and… thanks, we’ve been practicing a lot, it was very exciting. The crowd’s reaction was great” she says fluidly. Strongly, confident.

Clarke swallows, she sounds different than she’s even heard her, natural but also monotone like she’s used to it, like she knows how to handle it, she sounds… very sexy. And her smile is still there, her eyes don’t shine as much until she glances at her briefly, and maybe Clarke is protecting, but she smiles again, even if Lexa isn’t looking at her anymore.

Lexa sees her smile in the corner of her eye as Octavia greets Raven and they start talking about the party, sure that she’s no longer needed in the conversation she turns back to Clarke. She’s smiling, wide like she can’t be bothered to tone it down and it makes Lexa feel validated, because she’s so happy, she’s so excited to get to be with Clarke in person and she’s still too stunned to know what to do with herself.

“Y’know…” Clake stars, needing to stop the racing thought in her head “when you told me you played the piano, I didn’t imagine you would pull a solo like that, it was truly incredible”

“Thanks…” Lexa blushes, it’s not that she doesn’t know she’s amazing in her solo, it’s just that Clarke… noticed- “I mean you’ve seen my skill building and editing…” She adds, smirking a little, leaning closer “Did you really think I don’t explode this talent”

She doesn’t mean to flirt -or so she tells herself- but the implication of how far her talent extended wasn’t lost to her once the sentence left her mouth, and she won’t bother with clarifications.

Before they can gather their thoughts, their friends tell them to start moving. There’s a slight pause after Clarke asks where they’re going, and Raven rolls her eyes “Obviously to the party I just mentioned”

Octavia looks at Lexa and she doesn’t know what to say or do so, she looks at Clarke instead, who’s already looking at her with a questioning gaze. She doesn’t look hopeful nor disappointed, a little worried maybe but Lexa doesn’t even question it when the next sentence out of her mouth is “Sure, let’s go”

Her hopes of not making it a big deal go out the window when Octavia jumps on her back, letting out a strangled “Really?” before she’s squeezing her tight and vibrating with excitement.

“Okay, people this is not a drill! Let’s get going before she changes her mind!” Octavia says as soon as she jumps off her, she grabs her hand in the process and pulls at her while Lexa blushes furiously.

Raven turns to Clarke with raised eyebrows and all Clarke can do is shake her head with a shrug. She laughs when Raven grabs her hand with a shrug of her own and pulls at her in a similar manner.

She doesn’t let her anxiety take over, it starts pushing her to wonder if Lexa doesn’t actually want to go to this party, instead, Clarke takes a deep breath and waits until she’s alone with Lexa again -it happens fairly quickly, they catch up and Raven replaces her with Octavia, before they resume their own conversation.

“I take it frat parties aren’t your usual?” She asks even while Lexa still isn’t looking at her, she does smile at the question though.

“Not really” Lexa concedes and braves a look at Clarke “Parties in general are not… my usual- but hey! Neither is making friends online and yet here we are” She smiles bright, renew excitement over the topic.

Clarke smiles with her, likes the way Lexa shrugs and lifts a conspiratory eyebrow, still she can’t help but worry “We don’t…” she swallows “We don’t have to go, if you don’t want to- we can do something else or… go somewhere else” it’s Clarke’s time to shrug.

Lexa’s smile softens, and she has to look away from Clarke because really, quit it with the blushing! “It’s fine, really” she reassures “It’s not that I’m not a fan of parties per se” she smirks just thinking about it “I just… don’t particularly like people” she grimaces but her smile is too bright for it to look genuine.

Clarke snorts, like she doesn’t mean to laugh but can’t help it “You and me both” she hushes leaning closer as they giggle “I’ve heard… that alcohol helps a lot with it though” she says after a bit and it’s Lexa’s turn to snort.

“Oh I know” she nods her head, leaning into Clarke as well, because she can, and it feels good and Clarke isn’t complaining “I do know it tends to... become a problem later on as well”

“Touché” Clarke nods “Good thing we can leave whenever we want” she winks, reassuringly, she thinks, she wants Lexa to know that she can be honest anytime she’s not comfortable. And so what if it’s also a little flirty? It’s harmless.

They make good use of that statement in the end.

When they arrive at the party, the frat house is packed, there isn’t a line yet, but a couple of boys are out talking, planning a head of that moment. One of them is the guy Raven talked to, he shamelessly flirts with her and looks shocked to realize Octavia and Lexa are coming with her, he invites them in and promises to find Raven later.

All throughout Lexa eyes Clarke with a slight frown, she just keeps shrugging and shaking her head lightly, it’s a normal thing, typical Raven behavior.

Octavia grabs Lexa’s arm inside and they make it to the bar. Her best friend is giddy she gladly takes two shots from Raven, Lexa doesn’t even look at Clarke as she dedicates the first of whatever is in the tiny plastic cup to Octavia.

Lexa turns to Clarke when Raven places a second round and Clarke smiles, she leans in to be heard over the music and tells Lexa that she’ll take hers if she doesn’t want it. Lexa in turn raises a challenging eyebrow clinks it with Raven’s before taking it.

Octavia hugs her again once their grimaces are gone and Raven offers to pour them a mixed drink to last them a while, Clarke wants vodka and Octavia asks for rum for her and Lexa, she winks at her discreetly and then hugs her again.

“You’re not even drunk, stop being so clingy”

“I’m just excited that you’re here!”

“And I’m excited that you’re both here!” Raven cheers downing her drink quickly and pouring another “Which one of you is going to introduce me to the rest of the music bros?”

Clarke tries not to laugh as Lexa turns to her alarmed, she shrugs just for the sake of it and then Octavia is speaking, Clarke can’t hear it very well over the music, but she assumes she’s offering because a minute later they’re both gone.

The butterflies come swinging back to her stomach and a smile rises without her consent when Lexa turns to her again.

“Do you wanna go somewhere quieter?” Lexa leans in, a smile of her own adorning her face.

It takes them a minute to move around the packed house and then some to find a pocket of air with less noise. They end up sitting in the nook of a window by the corner of the huge lounge room, they’re farther from the dance floor than they were in the kitchen, and they both sigh a sigh of relief followed by giggles as they lean back.

They sip their drinks, suddenly a little awkward, not sure how to start a conversation and afraid to keep on just looking at each other. Clarke is the brave one at first, asking about Lexa’s drink choice and how Octavia answered for her.

“I’m don’t usually drink so… I tend to not care what I am drinking” Lexa shrugs, she takes another sip and braves a look at Clarke “Is Vodka your usual?”

“Yeah” Clarke smiles “It’s… tasteless enough, I think it makes it easier to mix. I’ve learned to drink tequila in mixed drinks with Raven, though, and there’s just… nothing like it”

“In a good way?”

“Yeah, it’s so much better. Specially with sweet drinks… but it’s more expensive and it’s quick to give a hangover”

Lexa laughs “Oh yeah, I’ve had my fair share of tequila hung overs”

It’s easy to move the conversation around, it feels nice to ask the questions they avoided before, those that felt too person for two friends that only talked about the game they were playing. Lexa shared about her friendship with Octavia going all the way back to sophomore year of high school, Clarke tells her how Raven quickly scaled from roommate to best friend and how her childhood friend met her the summer before, and they were so jealous.

They talk about all their classes and possible majors, Clarke just about figured out before break that she’s really interested in biochemistry, and she’s excited to see where it might lead her, Lexa joins in excitedly to talk about science since one of her many extracurricular is focused on chemical experimentation, she explains to Clarke that she has a lot of extracurriculars, always has had, from sports to chess, to science and music, all her passions have led her to a variety of classes, but she’s mostly find them boring or overly specific.

They talk a little bit about high school and how each of them moved around the bizarre social hierarchy of it, they maybe throw in a little hint about their dating game and maybe it’s a little flirty, maybe it’s a bit of a joke but so easily not.

Throughout their conversation Raven comes over a few times to check in on them and Octavia comes over to hug Lexa anytime she sees her, Lexa accidentally calls Clarke Sky a couple of times and it may become a little less intentional once she realizes Clarke blushes every time.

They’re constantly leaning on each other and talking closely, and giggling all the time.

They refill their drinks and ‘babe’ enters Clarke’s vocabulary full force, she ignores Raven’s looks from across the room and can’t help but blush any time she catches Octavia winking at Lexa, for her part Lexa downs her drinking faster than Clarke, too happy and too comfortable to care about any of it.

Their friends drag them into a game of beer-pong with shots -warm beer is gross and it’s not like most people here aren’t rich- appealing to their competitiveness to lure them. Octavia and Raven team up against them, swearing that they’re the sober ones and thus will win. Clarke and Lexa are content to stay glued to each other, leaning into the other as they wait for their friends to shoot, holding the other as they drink their shots and calling out sweet encouragements before every shot.

They end up winning against their friends, barely, and as celebration the crowd makes them down the remaining of their shots. They chose to grab some water next and return to their little nook. With liquid courage they get even more comfortable in each other’s personal space, they flirt a lot, smirking every other sentence and talking about anything that comes to mind.

Clarke calls Lexa Heda jokingly making her drop a few Princess’ in between, they’re not blushing as much anymore, just enjoying it and leaning into it, so much that they don’t mind Octavia’s side eyes and Raven’s raised eyebrows, they just keep trying to find ways to make the other call them pretty names.

They start talking about fornite at some point, they recall Winterfest and how they sped through levels to get every reward possible, they agreed, now that it was over, that it was kinda… ‘meh’, the year before had been better and it mostly had to do with the addition of the OG maps and all the hype about that taking away the attention of the holidays.

“The collaborations were insane though!” Lexa rolled her head back and the sideways to rest on Clarke’s shoulder.

“Right?!” Clarke turns to her even when she knows she won’t be able to see her, it’s nice to have their faces so close together “Like what do you mean Snoop Dog, The Shack and Marya fucking Carey all have matching Santa skins?”

They both break into laughs and Lexa leans heavily into her. They sigh in unison with smiles on their faces, content to watch the party for a minute- that is until a group of frat boys not too far from them start… barking?

Lexa quickly lifts her head off Clarke’s shoulder and turns to frown at her, Clarke shrugs with a shake of her head and it’s not long until they start laughing again. They giggle the remnants of their cringe out while looking at each other and then Clarke smirks a mischievous little smirk.

Lexa tilts her head, and Clarke does the same in the direction of the exit, she doesn’t take her eyes off Lexa and her smirk grows when Lexa imitates her, they continued tilting their heads and nodding them until they can’t keep from laughing anymore.

The frat boys are still barking when they stand up and start looking for their friends, they tell them they’re heading out and make a quick job of leaving, they both take deep breaths a block down the house and sigh out giggles.

“Where should we go?” Lexa asks, and she doesn’t care that she still hasn’t let go of Clarke’s hand.

“Don’t call me crazy-” Clarke uses their joined hands to pull Lexa closer and whisper conspiratorially “but… we could… go… play”

“Oh, this is why we get along!” Lexa throws her head back and Clarke reigns her back in when she loses her balance for a second.

“Let’s go then Heda”

“Lead the way Princess”

They agree to go to Clarke’s place first, Octavia will be staying with a friend so they can have the room to themselves, thus they’re going to pick up Clarke’s laptop and go. The walk is full of talking and laughing and flirting, it’s silly, so unserious but so… them.

“This’ me” Clarke nods to their right as they approach the dorms wing of campus.

“Really?” Lexa huffs “I’m right over there!” she points to their left, two buildings down from Clarke’s.

“For real? That is so crazy!” they laugh and decide to ignore that before today -okay maybe form a month ago- that information would’ve been scary as fuck.

They enter Clarke’s dorm quietly, not remembering that her roommates were all at the party they just left, Clarke hesitates before letting Lexa into her room, but it’s hard to think when she turns her head and Lexa is right there, practically glued to her and so giddy.

They’re a little drunk, so Clarke is stumbling a little, throwing her coat over her bed and trying to get her laptop, she’s also trying to make sure her -half- of the room is presentable or close enough to Raven's to pretend. And Lexa is all excited for apparently no reason other than being in Clarke's room, and the flirting hasn’t stopped and it’s making them both a little dizzier.

So when Clarke stands up and Lexa is standing too close, neither of them move.

They're breathing unevenly and they stare at each other for a long moment, trying to decipher what's going on, looking for the answer in each other’s eyes.

Lexa is all too happy to stay right where she is, she knows in a few minutes or less she’s going to want to touch Clarke in some way, grab her hand or her wait, kiss her or worse, lean her forehead to hers, but she can’t be bothered right now, because Clarke is really pretty and she’s really happy that she was brave enough to invite Clarke to her orchestra, because she’s really happy to be there with her.

Clarke is a bit more antsy; she’s looking up because Lexa us wearing a bit of heel, and she was already a bit taller than her and her lips are right. There. So Clarke has enough. She leans up and touches her lips to Lexa’s softly. She doesn’t mean to capture her lower lip in hers, she’s just a little clumsy, at the moment, and Lexa-

Lexa is kissing her back.

Lexa’s hands move quickly to hold her -uncovered- waist, and sighs into Clarke’s mouth at the contact, she doesn’t question anything, doesn’t even think about it when she stars leaning into her, chasing her lips and that tongue that ever so softly teases her bottom lip.

Clarke sneaks a hand up to Lexa’s jaw and holds onto her -very… vert strong- bicep with the other, she takes half a step back and her ass meets the side of her bed, she has to sort of sit on it when Lexa keeps leaning because the bed is a little lofted for storage. She doesn’t move her hands from Lexa, which makes it so she can feel her bicep flexing when Lexa takes a larger step closer and pulls at her waist lifting her so she’s sitting fully on the bed.

The kiss is teasing and tight, but the moment Lexa wiggles her way between Clarke’s legs, parting them just enough to fit and pull her close, the kiss turns deep, Clarke doesn’t think twice when the new angle and closeness allows her to comfortably slide her arm around Lexa’s neck and swipe her tongue confidently into Lexa’s mouth.

Lexa moans in turn, chases her tongue and sucks on her bottom lip, she’s still leaning on Clarke, pushing her onto the bed. She extends a hand for leverage and snakes the other one around Clarke’s waits, leaning more fully into her. Clarke’s hand on her bicep flies back to hold herself as well when Lexa keeps on leaning until she’s practically on top of Clarke even with her feet still on the ground.

It’s outrageously long before they break for air, and when they do, they don’t part if anything they hold each other closer as if to make sure the other won’t leave. They press their foreheads together, but neither is brave enough to open their eyes, they breath heavily, drunkenly.

Lexa moves slightly, bumping her nose with Clarke and huffing a giggle at Clarke’s answering bump, she opens her eyes just in time to see Clarke open hers and the smirk adorning her lips reaches up to her eyes.

Over all the noise in Clarke’s head, questions and desires and also just mush, she can’t help but high-five herself in her head, she was right Lexa’s sweater do compliment her eyes, it’s a deeper shade of green than her grey-ish green eyes, but green all-the-same.

“Hi” Clarke’s giggle drunkenly.

Lexa smiles dopily “Hey there”

“You didn’t tell me you were such good kisser”

“I’m good at a lot of things” Lexa giggles, and she really doesn’t mean it flirty this time, but then Clarke’s pupils dilate and she’s thankful to her subconscious.

“Yeah?” Clarke bites her lip “Will you show me?”

Oh hell! She’s got game!

Lexa kisses her, she kisses her deeply and dirty because that was really hot, and oh so smooth and she doesn’t know what to say, she’s always been better with actions anyways-

She can’t help the smirk that gets kissed off by Clarke at her next idea; Lexa sneaks a hand under Clarke’s top and feels around the clap of her bra, she pulls away from the kiss with a wet sound and smirks at Clarke’s frown before she’s snapping the claps open with a simple twist of her wrist.

“Example number one” She giggles again and Clarke gasps at her with a smile.

“You should get my top off next” Clarke winks, recovering quickly.

It takes Lexa a second to swallow down before nodding her head “yep, great idea”

They make quick work with the crop top, and Clarke throws her bra to the side enjoying the way Lexa completely stops at the sight of her boobs.

“Like what you see” she bites her lips, one hand back behind Lexa’s neck and the other planted back on her bed, her back arches in such way and she knows she’s an spectacular view.

Lexa gapes, blinks once and then not for a long while which makes Clarke chuckle, she pulls slightly at Lexa’s neck, urging her to lean on her again and Lexa can only brace herself on the bed, still transfixed.

“Can I-” She clears her throat, her voice is hoarse, eyes dark with want as she looks up to her eyes. Clarke shudders a breath as Lexa swallows and tries again “Can I touch you?” she breath out.

Clarke could moan at the sound of Lexa’s desire, she bites her lip harder instead, takes a shuddering breath and nods her head.

Lexa’s eyes are back down to Clarke’s breaths, it’s not that she hadn’t realized Clarka had… such voluminous rack, she just thought she wasn’t supposed to care. And there’s a very big difference between clothed and enclosure boobs and… this.

She moves her hands to Clarke’s hips, enjoys the way her breath catches when she moves them to her waist and they make contact with her bare skin. Lexa licks her lips as her hands travel up Clarke’s ribs and move accordingly to fit the underside of Clarke’s breast in the cup of her hand.

They both sigh when Lexa presses up and squeezes the full weight of Clarke’s boobs.

“Fuck”

Clarke smirks, and Lexa can’t be bothered to recognize that she said that out loud, she plays with Clarke’s nipples for only a second before Clarke is pulling her forward into a kiss. She pauses her ministration, if only to moan into Clarke’s mouth as their tongues meet.

A hand snakes down her neck groping her tits over the sweater on its way down to her waist when Clarke pushes the sweater up to pull her closer still. She quickly pushes it higher util Lexa has to lift her arms to take it off, she does so reluctantly, not happy to let go of Clarke’s breast.

Clarke laughs at her when they kiss again, having regained her balance she kisses Lexa more comfortably, now sitting up, while making a quick job of Lexa’s belt, and consequently, her pants.

Lexa steps back to step off them and Clarke takes the chance to slide off the bed, ready to comfortably kiss all over Lexa’s body when she freezes. Lexa’s is wearing a matching set of linger. A dark shade of green, it’s not see-through but the artist in Clarke can recognize the work of the beautiful design over the lace.

She blinks when Lexa huffs a smirk at her, her gaze breaks the patter of bra-abs-panties to look at Lexa in the eye; she gives her a smirk of her own and pulls her closer by the hips, bending down to drop a kiss under Lexa’s sternum and dropping down to her abs.

While Lexa shudders at Clarke’s lips on her skin she can’t help the smile on her lips, it feel good to have this effect on Clarke, it makes her feel sexy and desired and she likes it. Clarke moves up her body grabbing a handful of Lexa’s ass to drag her closer and kisses her again, she’s still leaning on her bed and Lexa happily steps into her again, holding Clarke’s shoulder as they kiss and taking the chance to kick off her heel.

The first step down leaves her eye level with Clarke and their lips part at the change angle. Lexa moves her hands down to Clarke’s knees consciously through the holes in Clarke’s cargos, and Clarke wraps her arms around Lexa’s waist. She kicks her second heel off while they look at each other smiling.

“Come here” Clarke breaths into her leaning forward for a kiss and then back to pull Lexa on the bed.

They giggle and adjust so Lexa can climb on the bed, they kiss and tickle each other trying to get Clarke’s shoes and pants off. Clarke lays flat on her back and encourages Lexa to straddle her.

The sight of Lexa fluidly sliding down to kiss her is one Clarke’s sure she’ll never forget, she moans into the kiss and holds Lexa’s waits, she arches her back at the feeling of the linger gracing her nipples and she suddenly can’t wait to her Lexa’s bra off.

She’s a little distracted though, Lexa moves to kiss her jaw and down her neck, and Clarke’s hands travel up to Lexa’s ribs and then down to her hips and back to grab a handful of her butt.

They moan and sigh and they pull at each other for kisses while molding their bodies together. Lexa sits back to flick her hair, and Clarke follows her halfway up, chasing her lips, but stopping at the gorgeous view of Lexa straddling her. Clarke absently traces her hand up Lexa’s tight and while leaning on her elbows she sneaks her hand to cup Lexa’s cover core.

Lexa bites her lip to contain a groan as she rocks her hips into Clarke’s hand. She keeps going like that rolling her hips sensually, her hand holding her hair as she watches Clarke watch her.

“Fuck… I want to touch you”

“You are touching me, Clarke” Lexa smirks, enjoying the effect she’s having on Clarke.

Clarke pushes herself up and ghosts a kiss over Lexa’s lips “I’ll be more specific. I want to be inside you” her voice huskier than a second ago “Can I do that?”

The little whimper that crawls out of Lexa’s throat is not something she’s proud of, but she can’t ignore the glow of pure want the fill Clarke’s eyes after hearing it. She bites her lip, nodding her head and moves her hands into Clarke’s hair to draw her into a kiss that is all tongue and teeth.

Clarke wastes no time moving her underwear aside and making room for her fingers to explore. Lexa resists the urge to roll her hips into every touch while smirking at every one of Clarke’s gasps.

Clarke teases her entrance repeatedly, rubbing around her clit but never truly touching it, she bites Lexa’s bottom lip and licks into her mouth while using her free hand to encourage her rolling hips.

It’s not long before they both know Lexa is ready and Clarke enters her with a singular digit. They moan into each other’s mouths as Lexa stills and gasps, adjusting to the feeling, she moans again when she starts moving and Clarke follows suit, calmly going in and curling out. A second finger is added, and Lexa turns her head to hide in the hollow between Clarke’s neck and shoulder, she nibs and kisses the skin available as her arms go around Clarke’s shoulders, giving her more leverage to rock into her fingers.

Clarke sucks her neck and bites her earlobe as they move in sink and she gasps every so often, adjusting her hand to give Lexa a better angle to rub her clit over Clarke’s palm. It’s only the third time Lexa’s open mouth kiss turns into a shuffled moan that Clarke speaks to her.

“Lexa… you know we’re completely alone right? You don’t… need to keep quiet” she says, blushing. Because they concept of wanting to hear Lexa feels way more intimate than the position, they’re in, specifically since it’s an addition to it.

Lexa grunts lifting her head, she doesn’t stop the rolling of her hips and Clarke doesn’t stop the movement of her hand “These are paper-thin walls Clarke!” She scowls, heaving the words out, her face is flushed, and the crown of her head is damp from forming sweat -Clarke didn’t know she could get even more beautiful- “of course I have to keep quiet!” She groans.

Clarke kisses her instead of arguing, because she can, and she looks so pretty, and she can feel the moan she heaves into her mouth and it’s good enough for now. They continue kissing and huffing and moaning into each other until a particularly perfect moan from Lexa cuts off by her biting her own lip.

“Hey. Listen” Clarke huffs “quick floor plan description, behind me is the common room, currently empty. Behind you there’s a laundry room that is obviously closed right now, past my closet is the hallway, also empty, and out the window… you saw it was also quite empty”

Lexa closed her eyes hallway through the sentence, frowning and she kept moving and conflicted as to how Clarke could form such an elaborate sentence when all Lexa could think was-

“Fuck!”

She feels the smirk Clarke presses onto her neck, she bites her lip again and assumes her brain understood beyond her consciousness.

“That’s it, let me hear you, Heda”

She moans a filthy moan, Clarke smirks is wider, she bites Lexa’s neck, and she huffs in mild annoyance.

“Make me, Princess” she shoots between hoarse breaths.

She smirks when she opens her eyes to a gapping Clarke staring at her with lust, she closes her eyes quickly after when Clarke moves to lean one hand back fuck her harder with the other.

“Sky!” Lexa moans and immediately blushes.

It was loud, very loud. And the wrong name-

“Say that again” Clarke hushes, nibbing her jaw, thrusting up to meet her rocking hips.

“Sky…” Lexa… whimpers, she wishes she could call it something else, but it is what it is.

Clarke kisses her and they rock against each other in sync, Lexa moans and Clarke gasps and they’re both panting. Lexa closes her eyes, throws her head back, Clarke can’t keep staring. Their rhythm is thrown off for a second when they hear a creaking sound, they both blink and quickly realize it’s the bed protesting from the motion.

They smirk at each other.

They kiss messily while still smiling and pick up the pace, Lexa throws her head back again, moaning freely and Clarke latches her mouth to her neck. She moves her arm from behind her all the way around Lexa’s torso and pulls her close.

Lexa adjusts in Clarke lap, making her lean on her hand again and she takes the chance to push her by the shoulders back to the bed. Clarke lands with a huff and her hand flies to pull pillows behind her head when Lexa presses her hand over Clarke’s ribs, almost cupping the underside of her boob and starts rocking her hips firmly into Clarke’s hand.

Her moans grow louder, her eyes close and her breath heaves even more, her hips eventually start stuttering, moving erratically and Clarke holds her hip while thrusting up, helping her hand reach deeper.

“Fuck! Sk-mmhh, Clarke!”

They both know she’s close, she’s riding Clarke’s fingers with purpose, sighing and moaning and huffing heavily, all it takes is Clarke moving her free hand to press her thumb to Lexa’s clit and one singular undulating thrust for Lexa to frees in pleasure, strangled moan caught in her thought before she comes undone, shaking screaming out the end of her moan.

She leans heavily on her hand over Clarke’s ribs through her orgasm and eventually flops forward, laying half on top of Clarke with both pairs of hand trapped between them.

As Lexa lays there, completely spent, Clarke can't help but smile and move to kiss the side of her forehead. Her fingers are still wrapped around Lexa's warm walls and her hand is folded with her release. She leans to kiss her shoulder as well as she moves her hand out of Lexa and from between their bodies, she grabs Lexa's hand to move out from between them as well and can't resist the chance to kiss the back of it.

Lexa huffs a laugh and what feels like an audible eye roll. She lifts her head slowly and deliberately leans in to kiss Clarke. The kiss is soft and so deep, Lexa is fully leaning on her now and her weight make the kiss harder.

Lexa moves her kisses to Clarke's jaw, she bites her earlobe and sucks on her pulse point, she moves down to kiss her collarbone as Clarke huffs a shig, her breaths fastening. It is with only one slurry look, that Clarke arches her back, and Lexa starst devouring Clarke’s nipples expertly.

“Can I go down on you?”

“You, uhm- you don’t have to” Clarke breaths, heavily.

“I-" Lexa bites her lip, looks down and they slowly sensually up "I want to”

"Mh-mhh?" Clarke hums, high pitched affected not only by Lexa's work on her tits but also the look of pure desire on Lexa's face.

At Lexa's nod, Clarke nods as well and Lexa smirks as she starts making her way down to her core.

Lexa takes only a short moment to admire the glistening heat of Clarke's heat before diving in. Clarke moans loudly at the first swipe of Lexa's tongue, throwing her head back and grabbing onto her sheets. It spurs Lexa on, each new movement, new swipe or kiss to Clarke's can't grants her a series of different sounds and reaction out of Clarke that are simply too hot.

A thought of where and with how may people Lexa might've learn to be that good crosses Clarke's mind, but before she can get jealous of upset she remembers she's no one to judge. She doesn't dwell on it for too long either, Lexa is far too talented with her tongue for Clarke to be able to hold any thought for longer that two swipes of Lexa's tongue.

Eventually Lexa enters her with one finger and then quickly a second one when it goes in too easily. She looks up as she attaches her mouth to Clarke's clit a second later, smirking as Clarke whimpers a shudders below her.

"Fuck! God Lexa yes!" Clarke throws her head back, a hand jumping to Lexa's hair when she starts moving; both her fingers inside her and her tongue over her clit, circling it expertly..

It doesn't take too long before Clarke is coming apart, shaking and shouting out Lexa's name, shuddering away and up into Lexa's mouth, overwhelmed with pleasure.

She taps Lexa's head tiredly to signal her that she can't take anymore and still whispers when Lexa removes her mouth from her. Lexa smirks and moved to kissing her tight, pulling her fingers in and out slowly to draw out the last of her orgasm.

Lexa kisses her hip next, leaving a mark as her fingers continue moving and Clarke jerks and moan with the aftershoks, she moves to the other hip and pulls out slowly when Clarke taps her head again, she takes a long deliberate path up Clarke's body, kissing any skin aviable and diving right into a kiss to her lips once she reaches them.

Clarke moans at the taste of herself on Lexa's tongue and enjoys the way Lexa deepens the kiss and rolls her hips on top of her as a response. They make out for a bit, smiling and huffing at each other, bumping noses and rolling into each other as their hands roam mindlessly.

That is until Clarke slides a thigh between Lexa's and feels her wetness rub on her. She presses up, moaning as Lexa bites her lips and cants her hips mote firmly into her. Clarke leans up to kiss Lexa and in a swift and impressive move turns them around in the small bed to lay on top of Lexa.

"Fucking me turned you on, didn't it?" Clarke whispers against Lexa's ear, snaking a hand down her abdomen and bitting her earlobe.

Lexa breaths out, swallowing a whimper as Clarke grazes her fingers over her folds finding her freshly wet.

"You're very vocal" she eventually breaths out, her eyes are closed and Clarke is sucking a bruise into her neck as she toys with her can't lazily.

Clarke smiles into her neck, hums in agreement and bites her lightly. She moves her fingers as though she's going to enter her and lifts her head.

"Do you like that? That I'm vocal?"

Lexa opens her eyes while blushing, she bites her lip and nods slightly, she then throws her head back with a moan as Clarke enters her with two fingers easily.

"Good... because i want to talk you through this one okay?" She huffs a chuckle into her lips, and Lexa moans as Clarke pulls out hooking her finger on the way.

"Skyy!"

Clarke thrust into her with the help of her thigh and starts a rhythm, one that Lexa matches with her huffs and moans and curses and calls of her name, all the while Clarke prises her, and tells her how good she feels, how good she sounds, how beautiful she looks and how she can't wait to see her come undone again.

"Fu-fuck! Like that-SKY!"

"I love it when you call me that, fuck"

"Yeah...? Fuck-" Lexa bites her lip.

The bed is creaking again, knocking against the wall as Clarke pounds her fingers into her cunt.

"Yeah, but... fuck. I want you tl say my name when you come. I want to hear you clicking that K like you always do-

"Fuck- ah! you" Lexa huffs a laughs and Clarke laughs with her, kissing her cheek and making her blush.

Becasue of course something like a kiss to the cheek after a joke would make her laugh, never mind that she's but naked, legs spread open and Clarke fingering her into an orgasm.

A kiss to the cheek is too much.

"Fuck Lex, you're so tight" Clarke hushes against her collarbone.

Lexa moans, because she likes the nickname, it's nothing special, but she likes it. And Clarke is doing ungodly things to her pussy, caressing her sides, saying all the right things and sucking on that specific spot right on top of her collarbone that drives her crazy, because she has her all figured out already.

And she is tight, she can feel it, she's so close, she can feel that familiar feeling in her lower belly, tugging at her, making her moan-

"Cla-ahrke!"

She comes so hard, for so long and Clarke keeps taking to her, she can't tell what she's saying because her brain is mush, but it's dragging her climax on and on until she can't take it anymore.

Still shaking she grabs at Clarke's bicep, squezing and whimpering, moving her hips away.

"No more?" Clarke whispers soflty. Lexa can't only shake her head "Okay baby" she kisses her jaw and if Lexa's face wasn't already red from coming, she sure as well would be blushing.

Clarke kisses Lexa's shoulders soflty, trying to keep her weight off her as she still breaths heavily. Lexa's eyes are closed and Clarke takes the chance to look at her. Her faced flushed a pretty fading shade of red, her lips parted sightly as she huffs her breaths out, her hair is a mess, sprawled around the pillow under her. Her collar bones and chest are red as well, adorned with a couple hickeys she can't help but to be proud of.

And then Lexa blinks her eyes open, heavy eyelids drop a couple of time before she can keep her eyes fully open. And then a smile raises slowly, and Clarke realizes as she tries to smile, that she was already smiling brightly.

"Hi" Lexa chuckles.

"Hey there" Clarke leans in to kiss her and Lexa moves her hands to hold her close.

They move a little messily, laughing as Lexa refuses to separate their lips, Clarke lays on her side and Lexa turns with her.

The kiss turns lazy when Lexa has no strengths to even coordinate her lips, her eyes close permanently. Clarke smiles and pulls back, kissing Lexa's nose just because and watching a smile rise slowly with a slow huffed laugh.

"Sweet dreams, Heda"

"Mmhh, g'night Princess"

-

...To be continued 😉😌

[jaijeijayjei]

To be fair, I'm pretty sure he was always cool with experimenting with the Hexcore and as far as they knew- there were no true negative consequences to messing with it (sure Heimer warned them but we've seen that Jayce thinks he's out of date and overly restrictive in general, so I doubt he believed the Hexcore is dangerous)

We can hypothesize on the details but I think it's safe to say that Jayce's highest priority was saving the world. Jayce is very selfless, and I don't think he's the type of guy to jeopardize billions of lives out of sentimentality. "and runs to him instead" - I don't really have a comment on that, cause I think the visuals are a little ambiguous as to what's happening, but if you enjoy interpreting it that way I can vibe with that. "I sincerely hoped to avoid this" indicates to me that he was willing to kill Jayce. Also, at this point Viktor truly believes his plan will eliminate suffering so it's his highest priority for now.

I think we're pretty much on the same page here. He chooses to stay out of love and duty. My main thought is that if they had to choose between love and duty they would go for the latter.

4a. Based on the events we see in Arcane (which were different circumstances, albeit) I mainly say that because they can and do operate independently of each other. Although Jayce ultimately decides to resign and be a scientist, I'd argue he was primarily motivated by realizing that he can accomplish more good in the lab than as a councilor.

4b. For Jayce's part, I will still say that while mage Viktor was a huge inspiration I'd argue he always wanted to do something to help and empower people (based on what he said about being inspired by his dad) and would've had that drive whether he became interested

4c. "knows that Jayce and him creating Hextech will lead to the world's destruction" I think that the whole time travel stuff was very vaguely explained. Was Hextech always going to be created regardless, and Jayce is simply being set on the path to destroy it? Why not just warn his past self? There's lots for room for speculation. Also, as we saw in the AU, Hextech is not necessarily invented because of his intervention, so it stands to reason that the way Arcane's multiverse works is more complex than single events determining if an apocalypse happens or not. We do know that Viktor's current self has been living with the guilt of destroying humanity for who knows how long, so I don't think it's in character for Viktor to unnecessarily risk causing it again.

In any case, thanks for sharing your thoughts. As I've said before, there are many ways to interpret the events of the show and if you prefer to see it in another light I think that's cool.

TLDR; “A hero will sacrifice the person they love to save the world, but a villain will sacrifice the world for the person they love.” - Jayce and Viktor are both “heroes.”

I’ve seen many posts claiming Jayce and Viktor “can’t live without the other,” or “will always choose each other over the world.”

This is a huge mischaracterization IMO.

1. Their morals and sense of duty are more important to them than each other

- and that’s healthy! In fact, the foundation of their relationship is their shared values, goals, and convictions.

We see from their first interactions that both Jayce and Viktor want to use science to change the world for the better.

When Viktor realized that shared vision was gone their partnership ended. This rift was exacerbated when Viktor was set on the Glorious Evolution.

But they always had the same underlying goal- to do good for the world. They just disagreed on how.

Their bond was fully rekindled when they had the shared determination to sacrifice themselves to protect the future.

2. Jayce and Viktor are willing to sacrifice anything, even each other, for (what they think is) the greater good

2a. Jayce was willing to kill Viktor to prevent the glorious evolution.

After witnessing the horrific future, Jayce was already determined to do everything in his power to prevent it. His promise to mage Viktor strengthened that conviction even more. When Viktor refused to listen, he murdered him (and he would’ve been gone for good without Singed)

2b. Viktor was willing to kill Jayce for standing in the way of the Glorious Evolution

Viktor genuinely believed his plan will save humanity from suffering and imperfection. When Jayce refused to join him, he would’ve choked him to death (if it weren’t for Mel)

Watering down their ending to just “choosing each other” devalues their sacrifice. They are both incredibly principled and driven by a sense of duty toward humanity.

4. Exaggerating a relationship to be obsessive and codependent doesn’t make it better.

Jayce and Viktor are well adjusted adults; they have their own lives outside of each other. True, their stories are intertwined, but they don’t rely other person for their whole sense of self.

Devotion and commitment are great! Obsession to the point of “this person is the single most important thing my whole life revolves around” is toxic.

Jayce and Viktor already have a well written relationship in canon- why take it to the extreme to the point of being unhealthy?

I think of this especially when people say “Jayce would’ve committed suicide if he survived” but that’s another conversation.

Thanks to @event0horizon for inspiring some of these points

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Sorry I'm a bit late on this, but I just wanted to say congrats on finishing season 1 !! 🥳

LOSING MY MIND AT HOW PERFECT THIS IS!!!!!! THANK YOU PIO!!!!! B'*)

[dcsiderivm]

Hearing Tanner, of all people, giving her a bit of grace, at least for her character overall, was..surprising, yet awfully desired after all this time. Sure, Daniela had done something horrendous and hurt the one person she'd never dreamed of hurting, but it didn't erase every other good thing about her. It overshadowed the good times she'd had with her ex, but it didn't quite change the fact that before that incident, their time together had been relatively amazing, and she just needed to be reminded of that. Trying not to relish in that small victory too much right now, she mindlessly studied Tanner's facial features as she let the woman continue speaking. Even while dealing with a range of emotions stemming from this encounter, her ex was still breathtaking, and damn if those dimples weren't still one of her favorite things about her.

Snapping back to reality at the mention of their poor choice in handling their problems, Dani sighed as she nodded in agreement. "I guess us not having any real relationship experience beforehand kind of left us scrambling to figure things out, and we just made the wrong decision." She'd replayed the crumbling of their relationship so many times now that she could recall all of the little things, the ways they ran from their problems or simply pushed things aside and only focused on work instead, and how they'd let other people try to push them into taking the next steps before they were even ready to sit down and talk about them. That had certainly been one of the main problems for them, and she hated how much it spooked them and gave them a reason to start avoiding one another. When Tanner pointed out the obvious, what had really broke her, Dani felt that guilt rising up yet again. "I was very aware, and hearing you say it out loud makes me feel even shittier, but I deserve that. And I'm sorry. Truly." If she could take it all back, Dani wouldn't hesitate to do just that, but since she couldn't, all she could do was keep apologizing. Though for now, it was starting to get a bit redundant, probably because they'd gone from somewhat fighting to now being more civilized, and this had been a lot to process so she knew they had to give each other some time.

Revealing that her and the lover who had come between her and Tanner was no longer in the picture hadn't been planned, but for some reason, Dani had felt like clearing the air there might help them...move forward? Remain civil? She didn't quite know, but it was out there now, and maybe it would provide a little comfort for Tanner to know that she wouldn't have to worry about seeing the pair around town together. As her ex seemed to change her stance on how to handle them running into each other in town again following this encounter, she smiled softly. Avoiding Tanner cost far too much energy, so Dani wasn't keen on having to do it forever. She wasn't expecting the offer to reach out to her ex should she need something though, and she was sure that the stunned expression on her face proved that. "Oh, uh..okay." She nodded her head slowly, letting her brain fully process it before she pulled her shit back together.

"I promise I'll handle myself better if we run into one another again. And if you feel the need to snap at me, I'll refrain from biting back and let you get it out of your system." She promised. It would be hard, sure, but she'd swallow her pride and deal with it. "Tell your parents I said hello...and that I'm really sorry for hurting their daughter." She stated before giving the woman a gentle smile. "You look beautiful, by the way. Not that you don't always look beautiful, but even under today's circumstances, you're still the most beautiful woman I've ever met." She shrugged. "And the phone thing works both ways, so if you need anything, or just want to chew me out, my number is still the same." And with that, Dani spun around and finally walked out of the alley, feeling a bit more relieved now that she'd gotten to formally apologize and give her ex the explanation she'd deserved since day one.

Something Tanner understood was that sometimes people felt such immense guilt that they wanted the offended party to hate them, to wish evil upon them, maybe even bestow some form of punishment on them. "I hate what you did—your actions, your selfishness, your cowardice," she volleyed back, a flat look on her face that eventually softened, "but—" That but was the big problem in Tanner's life. "One horrific thing doesn't change all the good that was once between us." And that string of truth was likely the answer to why this encounter had been so emotionally charged. Nostalgia was often called a dirty liar for looking back with rose colored glasses, yet Tanner had known one thing for certain—she'd never loved anyone the way she did Daniela.

Today was a red flag for Tanner. It was a display of just how much she hadn't go and moved on despite it having been a year since their breakup. Regardless of how it had gone down and the specifics of it, never minding all the comments over how much she'd changed in the last year, she'd hidden herself in her heartbreak. When her ex shook her head and wouldn't allow her to apologize a smile slightly curved her lips. It was more like a ghost—something you weren't quite sure of seeing. "It's all just hitting me right now. Different waves of emotions." That time she didn't refute Dani's sincerity. "Getting answers, or an explanation, helps. My mind went wild the last year and," turned Tanner into hating the world.

Hurt people hurt people. Her own guilt couldn't be assuaged over how once she'd been broken she'd become calloused to other's feelings. Often burdening them with a wrath they hadn't earned. The humorless chuckle pulled Tanner astray from the path her rumination was headed down. "It's crazy how we couldn't see a big picture then. How it was easier to avoid and let a divide grow between us." Maybe it had something to do with the fact that her family, even Dani's had been well-meaning in their encouragements and their excitement for what they saw in a future between the two women. Everything her ex had said landed somewhere and there was much to think about. "It's hard to know, I think." Her booted foot toed a crack in the alley asphalt as her hands rested lazily in her pockets. "I get it. Sometimes we don't know what we're doing and the ripple effect of those actions when we're in the thick of it." A sigh released and Tanner held a hand up between them. "Look, I'm not blaming the downfall of our relationship and everything that went wrong with it all on you. I'm aware it takes two. It's the break up. It's the someone else." After looking away for a moment her eyes found Dani's once again. "I just need you to know that—if you were unaware."

All the explanations, reasons, and apologies a year later left Tanner feeling unmoved by it all. Perhaps she was numb. It was much to process. Through the thick of it there had been a big word shared between them: love. And once uttered they both avoided it like a poisonous snake. Maybe what they had genuinely needed was time and space from the situation, because now that Tanner had shoved her anger aside to have as much of a conversation as possible she was chewing over and digesting every bit of information. "Thank you for acknowledging that," she said calmly and sincerely despite a flash of heat that surfaced on her neck and cheeks at the allusion of this other person that had come between them. Part of her wanted to ask if this person was here with Dani, or if they would follow. If they'd broken up—why? These questions rolled through her thoughts despite how much the answers could hurt and anger her. It felt sick to even wonder these sorts of things. Some part of Tanner's heart still held a silent claim on her ex, that had to be the reason.

Then unasked questions were answered and a swell of relief washed through Tanner. Given the state of things it felt like a best case scenario outcome of this encounter. Tanner listened and nodded, stoic on the outside, acknowledging that Dani was no longer with the person she'd left with. That being around Tanner was just as hard for Dani, that she wasn't moved on either. Hope didn't spring in her chest, at least things weren't as bad as they could be. "No, I get why you came back—this is your hometown, too. And, well, your family," she swallowed and the pause was a moment of respect for her ex's loss. "I just don't want us to be childish. I don't want to be at war with you or pulling immature moves if we see each other around. We're not teenagers." If they happened at the same place, same time in the future it likely wouldn't be easy but they could each be mature about it, right? A bit of conversation gave Tanner some comforts and made things a little less intense in comparison to when she first saw Dani. "Yeah, I think we need some time to think. I'm not going to lay some ground rules on you or play games, I don't have the patience for it. I think we can be mindful in the least, though." Then, it was out before she could stop it, "my number hasn't changed if you need or want to talk about things."

[icewindandboringhorror]

Pictures and things

[anonyanonymouse]

🙈

[sysig]

Some further TMPs (Patreon)

[eyivibyemi]

✧ I won’t really write descriptions for these, but see original post tags for explanation/commentary on the song snippet ✧

[makereadgrow]

RIP Joann, now what?

I wanted to make a post I could copy and paste and or link when I see folks asking where to buy fabrics when Joann is gone. I sew a lot, generally between 100-200 items a year and I don't do it on a big budget. Stores are not in a particular order.

Notions:

Wawak.com - start here, mostly stay here. Wawak is a supplier for professional sewing businesses and have the prices that show it. I will not pay for gutermann Mara 100 anywhere else. I buy buttons, tools, thread, and most elastic here.

Stitch Love Studio - this is where I buy lingerie supplies https://www.etsy.com/shop/StitchLoveStudio?ref=yr_purchases

Fabric:

Fabric Mart - this is one where you want to sign up for emails and never buy unless its on sale. They run different sales every day and they rotate. Mostly deadstock fabrics but I buy more from here than anywhere else. Fantastic customer service and if you watch you can get things like $6 wool suiting or $4 cotton jersey. https://fabricmartfabrics.com/

Fabrics-Store - again, buy the sales not the full price. Sign up for the emails but redirect them to a folder because it is TOO MANY. They stock linen or good but not amazing quality. https://www.fabrics-store.com/

Purple Seamstress - This is where I buy my solid cotton lycra jersey. They have other things, but the jersey is what I'm here for. Inexpensive and very good quality. If you ask she will mail you a swatch card for the solids. https://purpleseamstressfabric.com/

LA Finch - deadstock fabrics with a fantastic remnant selection https://lafinchfabrics.myshopify.com/

Califabrics - mix of deadstock and big brands, easy to navigate and always seem to have good denim in stock. https://califabrics.com/

Boho Fabrics - good variety, nice bundles. I have also gotten some really great trims from here. https://www.bohofabrics.com/

Firecracker Fabrics - garment and quilting fabrics, really nice selection and great sale section. I've bought $5 yard quilting cottons here several times. https://www.firecrackerfabrics.com/

Hancock's of Paducah - Quilting fabric and some limited garment fabric. AMAZING sale section. Do not sleep on the sale section. This is my first stop when buying quilting fabrics. Usually the last stop too. Not particularly speedy shipping. https://www.hancocks-paducah.com/

Itokri - This is something a little different. Itokri is an Indian business with incredible traditional fabrics. Shipping to the US is expensive, but the fabric is so inexpensive it evens out. I generally end up paying like $30 for shipping. Beautiful ikat and block prints. https://itokri.com/

Miss Matatabi - this is a little treat. This isn't where you go to save money, but there are so many beautiful things in this shop. Ships from Japan incredibly quickly. https://shop.missmatatabi.com/

Lucky Deluxe - Craft thrift store, always has an incredible selection and fantastic customer service. I need to close the tab fast because I never go to this website without finding something I need. https://www.luckydeluxefabrics.com/

Swanson's - the OG of online craft thrift stores, but I find their website harder to navigate. https://www.swansonsfabrics.com

Honorary Mentions: I haven't shopped at these places yet but I have had them recommended and likely will at some point.

A Thrifty Notion - https://athriftynotion.com/

Creative Closeouts - https://creativecloseoutsfabric.com/ being rebranded to sewsnip.com on March 1 - quilting deadstock

Hawthorne Supply Co. - I just got this rec and I think I need to not look too closely or I'm going to slip with my debit card. https://www.hawthornesupplyco.com/

This is not an exhaustive list of everywhere you can buy fabric, or even a full list of where I shop. There are SO many options out there in the world. You also need to think outside the fabric store box. I thrift men's shirt fabrics for quilts and sheets for backing fabric. I don't do a ton of in person thrifting and my local stores don't get a lot of craft materials but every thrift store is its own universe and reflects the community it is in. Go out and find something cool.

Oh and final note: Don't shop at Hobby Lobby.

[malusokay]

Little things that improved my life 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Accepting my sleep schedule. I'm a night owl; I focus at night, I'm calm at night, I'm motivated at night. For a long time, I tried to fight this since everyone always preaches getting up early, but since I started accepting my natural sleep schedule, I've been feeling a lot better and have become way more productive.

"drink more water". TEA. Tea is the secret here. I will be honest, I hate drinking water; it doesn't matter if I have a cute water bottle or a cute glass, I still hate it. TEA.

Replying quickly. I used to be one of those people who get a text message and think, "Oh, I'll reply to that later", and then just forget about it entirely. Now, I text back as soon as I see the message. This has not only improved my texting anxiety (which I cause on my own by now replying and then feeling bad) but also deepened my connection to my friends. <3

Keeping my circle small and being okay with that. Over the past months, I've had this sudden urge to expand my social circle and get to know more and more people, especially after I moved in August. However, this quickly ended in what I like to call my "social burnout". I was tired, annoyed, and overwhelmed. It took a few weeks for it to settle, but I've come to the conclusion that I would much rather have a smaller circle of people who I trust and love deeply than a huge group of friends, and that's totally okay.

Wearing what I like. Even though I live in a big city, I'd still say that my style can sometimes be a bit more extravagant than what most people wear, another point is that I'm very uncomfortable with pants so I only wear skirts, which is also considered a bit odd where I live. But over the past years, I've come to accept that and have become so sure of myself and found such comfort in my style that I now just wear whatever I like, and it makes every day a little bit nicer.

Reading and writing for pleasure. Reading books outside of my studies and spending time researching topics that simply interest me is such a great way to calm your mind. Same for writing, I always like to say that to write is to think; putting your thoughts on paper in cohesive and well-crafted sentences that you can then reread and think over again is such a liberating thing to do.

Reaching out more. fuck the whole "double texting" and "no contact" thing. If you want to speak to someone because they mean something to you, then just do it. Unless they specifically asked for space, you shouldn't feel bad about wanting to be in touch with them. Many even really appreciate it when you show that you truly care. Let's stop the nonchalant act, and instead, let's face deep emotions and true vulnerability. <3

As always, please feel free to share your own little insights and things that helped you improve comments! <3

my insta: @ malusokay

love ya ･:*₊‧✩

[joelsgoldrush]

“give me all of that ultraviolence” | 2k

logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: You give Logan head for the first time.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ implied age gap. dirty talk. kind of inexperienced reader. oral sex (m receiving). face fucking. dom!logan. a tiny bit of degradation. he guides you through the whole experience (shocking!!! i know)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HI PALS!!! yes i'm alive and kicking. yes university is killing me. so recently i’ve been OBSESSED with this man and i needed to write something for him. english is not my first language and i may have made some mistakes (if you encounter any you can tell me, i won't mind it). comments/likes/reblogs would be highly appreciated. i've got sooooo many ideas to write and i'm finally getting my hands on them. i missed you all so fucking much. hope you enjoy this!!!

It’s common knowledge that all humans have needs. Try as you may, there’s a primitive side that you can’t spare yourself from. You, as everybody else, have urges.

“Logan,” you basically mewl his name, five letters that roll off your tongue with little effort. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge you, his kisses growing harsher on the delicate skin of your neck. Threading your fingers through his hair, you decide to try again, speaking a bit louder this time. “Logan, please.”

“What is it, honey?” he says, bitten lips still pressed to your pulse point. As you remain silent, he looks up at you, those big, brown eyes that you love so dearly almost completely dark now. “Do you want to call it a day?”

His question catches you off-guard. You cup his face, thumbs caressing his cheekbones, suddenly afraid that he might pull away from you. “No! Not at all. That’s- that’s not what I want at all, actually.”

“What do you want, then? You can tell me,” he kisses you on the lips, softly at first. What starts as nothing more than a sweet kiss turns into a needier one, his hard on poking you through your shorts. “Come on. Tell me, baby. What does my sweet girl want?”

“I want to suck you off, Logan,” you whisper as you latch your mouth onto his, and you can feel how he visibly tenses beneath you. His breath hitches in his throat when you grind your hips. “I really need it.”

From the very beginning of your relationship, you had made things crystal clear: you didn’t have much experience on this territory. For a man his age, he was totally understanding. He knew you had your own times, that for him to take you to bed would take longer. Truth be told, Logan was willing to go to the ends of the world for you. There was no use in forcing anything.

At present, the bulge amid his legs becomes even more noticeable as you get off his lap, playing with his belt. “Can I?” you ask him, amazed at how straightforward you’re being.

Logan stares at you, so far panting, lust glowing in his eyes. “Shit, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters as he helps you undress him. His worn out jeans end up pooling around his ankles, and you locate yourself in between his legs. 

You’re on your knees, hands folded in front of you. Suddenly, it hits you, the shame of it all. How badly you want him, how desperate you are to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue. How many nights you’ve dreamt of this moment, unable to stop that unbearable need of touching yourself every time you thought about pleasuring him.

That’s what you truly want. For him to use you.

“What’s wrong, princess? We’ve talked about this a lot of times. You know what to do,” you can’t help but stare at his crotch as you listen to him, and then he raises your chin with his finger, your lips parting unconsciously. You blink slowly at him, eyelashes fluttering together. At last, he seems to understand what you’re trying to tell him, and he raises his eyebrows, that cocky grin of his taking place where it belongs. “You want me to guide you, don’t you? Want me to tell you what to do? Know you like it when I go a bit off the rails.”

You moan at his words, squeezing your eyes shut and nuzzling your cheek up against his palm. Slick gathers in your panties as you push your thighs together. “Please. Tell me what to do.”

“Take it out,” he instructs you, and you do as you’re told. Grabbing him by the base, you pull his cock out of his briefs. He twitches in your hand, and he’s so, so incredibly big. 

You stroke him once, testing the feeling. This you know how to do. You’ve given him hand jobs millions of times, although this one feels particularly different from the others.

He takes hold of your fist, applying a bit of pressure. “I’m sorry, baby. I think you got it all wrong. I’m the one who makes the calls here, okay?” he grunts, his brows knitted, and you only nod, salivating at the sight of his cock already leaking precum at the tip. Logan licks his lips, curling his hand around yours. “You do as I say. Now, stroke me. Nice. And. Slow,” he punctuates each of his words by moving both your hand and his in unison around his length. “That’s it, darling. You just need someone to boss you around from time to time, ain’t I right?”

One thing to know about Logan: he’s so full of himself on a daily basis, but he just gets worse in bed.

“My mouth,” you hover your lips over the head of his cock, all shiny and soft. He has let you go, both of his arms now flexed behind his head, as if he were appreciating how pathetic you must look on your knees, begging for him to allow you to taste him. “Let me.”

“Not yet,” his hips follow your tormenting pace, seeking the warmth that your skin radiates. He grits his teeth, biting his lower lip. You’ve no idea how a man so strong can become putty in your hands like this. “Greedy girl. I’m beginning to think you’ve set me up. Only a slut would get so worked up about having a cock in her mouth. What happened to my innocent girl? Gone with the wind, huh?”

“Please, Lo. I need it so bad,” you are whining, peppering his thighs with kisses. You inhale his musky scent, getting dizzy. “Give it to me. I’ll be good.”

Out of nowhere, Logan grabs a handful of your hair, forcing you to arch your back. He scrutinizes your face, studying your blissed out demeanor. “I don’t doubt that. I’m sure you’ll be good. Otherwise, we’ll keep on trying. We have all night, and you have a good memory, just need to put it to use,” as he taps your lower lip with his tip, you catch him smirking. He repeats that same motion until he has you shivering from the excitement of being stuffed. ”Show me how much you need it. Go easy on it at first, okay? Don’t want you choking beforehand.”

You’re more than happy to comply.

Your tongue darts out to lick at his head, enveloping it between your lips. The salty taste of his precum invades your tastebuds, and you moan as you trace the veins of his cock with the pad of your thumb. “Tastes so good, Lo,” your voice sounds distant, almost unrecognizable to your own ears.

“I know, bub. Such a nice fucking mouth, can’t believe you’ve never done this before. I guess you’re a natural,” shaky fingers place a strand of hair behind your ears, patting your head as if you were a dog in heat. “Do you feel like bobbing your head a little?” he asks you, and you prepare yourself, attaching your mouth to his head once again. “Good. That’s good.”

With that being said, Logan fists your hair once again and shoves your face down, his hard cock tickling your throat. Your whines and his rapid breaths are the only sounds to be heard in your bedroom. He grins as he takes in the sight of you. “Oh, sweetheart. You look so beautiful with your mouth stretched around me,” his index finger taps your cheek and he feels the outline of his own cock. “You know I can smell you, right? You’re fucking soaked, baby. Think you’ll leave a stain on the carpet? You’d clean it off with your tongue, wouldn’t you?”

You have no idea how he’s coming up with these things, but you’re far from annoyed. In fact, you’ve never been this wet. Your underwear must be ruined at this point, and you wish Logan would tell you to touch yourself.

After some minutes of bobbing your head up and down, he pulls you off his cock and you breathe through your mouth for the first time in a while. As you gasp for air, Logan kisses you, tasting himself. He massages the back of your neck, his cock throbbing between the two of you. “You tired?”

Your glossy eyes widen. Shaking your head, you go for his balls this time, sucking one of them while toying with the other. Logan buries his hands in your hair for what must be the hundredth time in the night, unable to stop himself. “F-fuck, that’s it. A pretty girl like you just gets what she needs,” he praises you, and you return to his length, taking as many inches as you can without hurting yourself. Tears shimmer in your eyes, yet you can’t bring yourself to care about that detail. You’re far too focused on Logan’s grunts and growls. “Keep that up and I’ll come. You heard me? You’re gonna make me fucking come, bub.”

His words ignite a fire inside you. You use your hands, your mouth, everything that you have to pleasure him. He’s getting closer and closer, thighs shaking when you pay special attention to his tip. Logan responds to each of your movements, and as you feel every coherent thought fly out the window, you try to take him all the way down your throat, breathing through your nose and swallowing around him. He cants his hips up, brutally fucking your mouth. Like a dog without a leash, Logan seems to get lost in the warmth that envelopes his cock, chasing his own release. “You’re such a good girl. My good girl. Nobody will fuck this mouth ever again. I’ll ruin you for any pathetic guy that tries to get in your pants. You’re fucking mine, darling. Oh, f-fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck-”

You’re met with his happy trail once he spills his hot load inside your mouth. He keeps you trapped there, his cock twitching and spamming through the aftershocks of his orgasm. You don’t think twice and swallow what he’s giving you. Some of his cum slips from your lips, falling directly onto the carpet. Even Logan seems surprised when he doesn’t stop coming.

He helps you stand up after a moment, kissing you as soon as he gets the chance. He licks into your mouth, squeezing the flesh of your hips. Logan lifts his eyebrows, relishing how cock-drunk you must look. “I think you nearly killed me. And that’s a lot to say coming from someone who cannot fucking die.”

You plaster a smile on your face, hugging his wide frame. “So, was I okay?”

His jaw goes slack, and he lowers his head to capture your lips in another kiss. “You were fantastic. I could easily get hard again just from thinking about it,” his fingers trace the buttons of your shirt, tugging at the fabric of it. “What if you let me focus on yourself for a while? You’ve already done enough, baby. Let me take care of you,” he rubs his hands on your thighs, reaching for your drenched panties. “Perhaps we could try something else today. That pussy’s begging to be fucked.” 

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 24: The Last First Time

Summary: You and Simon both get what you want.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 15,019 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, p in v sex, rough sex (it's like straight animalistic y'all), grinding, mutual masturbation, fingering, slightly violent imagery, scratching, biting, hair pulling, dry humping, blood (only a little), slight BDSM vibes, licking, squirting, praise, fluids (so many fluids), choking (only for a second), Simon's oral fixation, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, slight fluff, language, Simon being Simon, excessive use of the word "fuck", it's basically porn with very little plot.

A/N: This...this thing is a beast. It beat me up and stole my lunch money. I may have been a bit ambitious with it, but I've denied the Ghosties long enough and so I'm making up for that. Anyway...this might be one of the most depraved things I've ever written (not really, but you get the point). He'd the warnings, and I don't recommend reading this in public. Or standing. Or in underwear you care about. It's a good thing today is Sunday because y'all are gonna need Jesus after this.

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*This is the gif*

Your teeth sink into your lip as you slowly draw your gaze back to his face. He’s still looking at the bear, and once again, you wish you could see his face so you could guess what was going through his head. 

“I missed you.” You say quickly, ready to explain away the shirt and why you put it on that bear specifically. “A lot.” 

His eyes turn back to you, the intensity in them almost forcing you to take a step back. Any words trying to explain your actions die on your tongue as you hold his dark gaze, your heart thumping in your chest so loud you’re surprised he can’t hear it. A quiet sound rumbles in his chest as he looks at you, his eyes darkening just slightly. He takes a step closer, your head tilting up so you can hold his gaze. 

“Then I best make up for it.” He says, his hand moving to your side. His fingers bunch the fabric of the dress at your hip, lifting the hem a couple of inches. “Yellow sundress?” He asks. 

“Johnny bought it for me.” You say, your voice wavering from the anticipation of his touch. “I-It was nice out today, so I wanted to wear it.” 

“Fucking hell.” He breathes, releasing the fabric to drag his hand up your side, stopping just under your breast. 

You want him to continue, to push his hand higher, to finally touch you. You feel electric, every nerve fiber in your body alive as you stare up at him. Yet, you can see the hesitation, the conflict in his eyes. 

“We don’t have to.” You say, leaving that option open for him. Sure, it might be a little difficult after being so worked up, but the last thing you want is to push him too far. You can always get one of the other members of your pack to help ease that ache. “You just got back. There’s...there’s no need to rush it.” 

His fingers tighten around your side for a moment before he releases you, turning his back to you. You begin to panic, wondering if you pushed too far, made too many assumptions, made him too uncomfortable as he walks to the door. You’ve done it, you’ve messed things up and now it’s all crumbling down around you. 

His hand wraps around the knob, slowly pushing the door closed until it clicks. He stands there with his back to you for a moment before he turns back around. You let out the breath you had been holding, trying to calm the panic. Of course he’d want the door closed. This is just between you and him right now. 

You hold a hand out to him, trying to fight the tremble of your fingers. Your emotions are swirling and you need his reassurance. You need his grounding presence. 

He approaches you again, each step slow and calculated as he reaches out, his fingers brushing your palm before he wraps them around your hand. You close your hand around his as best you can with how big it is. You lift your gaze to his, the temptation to fold under the intensity strong, but you refuse. You need to be strong for him, for both of you. Your gaze doesn’t leave his as you slowly turn, walking backwards towards your bed, leading him by the hand with you. 

Your gaze finally leaves his as you turn to face your bed, stopping dead in your tracks. Simon’s chest brushes your back, obviously not expecting you to stop so suddenly. Something tickles in the back of your mind as you stare at the mess that’s become of your bed. The blankets and pillows are still a bit rumpled and misplaced from your lounging earlier, but something’s wrong. Something’s off, something’s not right. 

“Wait.” You say, dropping Simon’s hand before taking the two steps to the edge of your mattress. 

You move the giant bear to the floor next to the bed before you fix the blankets, smoothing them out and making sure they’re just right. You rearrange your stuffed animals and pillows, the need for them to be perfect taking over your mind. You can’t control it, can’t stop it until everything is perfect. 

You take a step back, staring at the nest you’ve made. 

Nest. 

You’re nesting again. 

You turn to face Simon, blinking up at him as the haze clears. He’s staring at you intensely, hands curled into fists at his side. “Sorry.” You murmur, hands closing around the fabric of your dress nervously. “I-I don’t know what-” 

“Don’t.” He says, the word sharp and biting. “Stop apologizing for your instincts.” 

“Sorry.” You say again, wincing at the instinct to immediately apologize. 

He rolls his eyes, closing the distance between you. You take half a step back, your legs hitting the mattress and you’re ready to sit on it when he grabs your hand, flipping your positions so fast it nearly makes you dizzy. He seats himself on the mattress instead, staring up at you. The look in his eyes takes your breath away as he tugs you to stand between his parted thighs. 

He tugs the bottom of his mask up and you don’t even have to be told, your head immediately lowering to kiss him. You rest your hands on his broad shoulders, feeling the muscle beneath them. His hands close around the back of your thighs, calloused skin biting at the softness of your own. Goosebumps rise on your skin, covering your body from the sensation. It’s nothing new to you, but he’s new to you. You’ve never been in this position before with him, never under these circumstances. 

His kiss is searing, just as the first one had been. He kisses you like a man starved, like he wants to devour you. It’s sloppy and wet, his hands squeezing around your thighs until your lips part in a gasp, and he takes advantage of it, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You press closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands begin to crawl up the backs of your thighs, warmth blossoming in your stomach again as they slip under the hem of your dress, continuing higher and higher. 

His fingers brush the skin where your thighs and ass meet, before continuing upwards until they brush the fabric underneath your dress. He groans into your mouth, pulling away from your lips. “Turn around and show me.”  

You shiver at the growl in his voice, turning slowly between his knees until your back is to him. You slowly lift the hem of your dress until it’s bunched around your waist, the cool air in the room brushing your exposed skin. You hear the sharp inhale as he stares at you, his fingers twitching against the sides of your thighs. 

“Fucking hell.” He breathes, his hands gripping the sides of your thighs as you bend over just slightly, causing the fabric to ride up slightly higher. 

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stand there under his critical gaze. You had planned this after Johnny’s hint that you should wear the dress since the weather was going to be nice. You knew there was more to it than that, the subtle hint that Simon would enjoy seeing you in it. The panties had been a deliberate choice just on the off chance that something like this would happen. You’re glad you made that decision now, half bent over with your ass in Simon’s face, showing off the black, skull print fabric adorning your skin. 

Simon curses again, his hands gripping your waist to tug you back into his lap. Your back collides with his chest, but he offers no complaint as he wraps his arms tightly around your middle. You can feel him, the bulge in his pants as you press back against him, the knowledge that he’s turned on by just the sight of your ass in skull print panties sending heat rushing between your own thighs. 

You tilt your head to the side, meeting his lips as you press back against him, his hands hot against your stomach. You need him to lower his hand, press it between your thighs, relieve some of the ache. 

His arms release around you and you turn in his lap, straddling his thick thighs. His hands settle on your own thighs, rocking your body against the prominent bulge in his pants. You continue to kiss him, gasping into his mouth as your clothed slit drags against the rough fabric of his jeans. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers brushing the sensitive skin below his mask. You can feel the hair at the nape of his neck, the short strands prickling your fingers. 

Simon pulls away from your lips, releasing his hold on your thighs. You freeze, holding your breath as you wait for what’s going to happen next. You’re worried perhaps you went too far, or perhaps he’s having second thoughts. He drops his head to your chest, pressing his face against your clothed breasts. He holds himself there, taking a shaky breath in. 

“We don’t have to.” The words come spilling out. “We can stop any time.” You rub his upper back, trying to release some of the tension in his shoulders. 

“‘S not fair to you.” He murmurs, his breath hot through the thin fabric of the dress. 

“I’ll be fine.” You say, moving off his lap. 

He lets you, releasing his hold around you. He doesn’t lift his head, still bowed almost in shame. You sit next to him, close enough your arm is pressed against his. 

“Like I said, there’s no rush.” You say, trying to reassure him. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, closing his hands into fists. There’s more emotion in his voice than you’ve ever heard before, the sound almost startling compared to the usual gruffness and bite to his words. 

“You won’t.” You shrug. “I can handle Johnny just fine, and John.” You put your hand over one of his. “I would tell you, if you hurt me, or if I got uncomfortable. I’m not as breakable as you think. You’ve thrown me around in training and I’ve been fine.” 

A low sound rumbles in his chest at your words. It sends a shiver down your spine, half of your brain telling you to run, and the other half sending heat between your thighs. He sits up straight, pulling his mask down as he turns to look at you. “Touch yourself.” 

“W-What?” You ask, taken aback.

“Touch yourself for me.” He repeats himself. 

You hesitate for half a second, before you nod. “O-Okay.” You reply, thrilled and nervous at the idea. 

You push yourself up further onto the bed as Simon adjusts himself so he’s against the headboard, lounging in your bed. You ignore the feelings rushing through you at the sight of the big alpha in your nest. It’s almost comical, seeing him in his dark clothes, an imposing figure surrounded by soft blankets and stuffed animals and colorful pillows. You lean against the footboard at the end of your bed, adjusting yourself so your thighs are spread, giving him a perfect view of your fabric covered pussy. You slip your hands under the waistband of your panties, but he stops you. 

“Leave them on.” He growls, eyes glued at the slightly darker patch of fabric between your legs. 

You slowly release your panties, tugging the hem of your dress up higher before you slip your hand into your underwear. You’re soaked, your fingers slipping along the slick skin. You stare at Simon’s face, his eyes glued to the movement of your hand under your panties as you begin to tease your clit. There’s an obvious tent in his pants, a painful looking bulge in his jeans. 

A quiet sigh leaves your lips as you circle your clit slowly, spreading your legs even further, draping one over his. His hands settle on his stomach as he watches, his breathing slow and even. 

Your breathing has picked up as you continue to tease your clit. Between the moment shared with him and the intensity of his gaze on your clothed pussy, it’s almost too much. You could cum just like this, barely touched, shivering under the gaze of your pack’s second alpha. It’s the most intimate you’ve ever been with him, and you’re not even naked. 

You slip your fingers lower, gathering slick on them before pressing two into your throbbing pussy. You moan softly at the slight stretch, your eyes focusing on his hands and where they rest on his stomach. How full you’d be on his fingers. Yours are nothing compared to his. The depths he could reach, the delicious stretch of them. You sink your teeth into your lip, biting back a moan as you begin to thrust your fingers in and out of you. 

His scent is intensifying, growing muskier in his arousal as he watches you. For once he doesn’t complain about the sweetness of your scent, the two mixing in the air, the perfect blend of alpha and omega. 

“A mixture someone could get drunk off of.” 

That’s what John had said. You want to, let it flow straight into your brain and numb your senses until there’s nothing but the two of you. Until you’re full of giddy happiness and warmth as your limbs go lax and all tension and stress leaves your body. Until you forget where you are, lost in some far away land where there’s nothing but you and the overwhelming scent of alpha, of Simon. 

A shudder wracks through your body, your scent intensifying as pleasure begins to sear through your veins. Simon’s nose twitches beneath his mask, his pupils dilating as your scent goes straight to his brain. You wonder what kind of iron grip he’s keeping on himself, how he’s managing to hold himself back. You’d jump his bones right now if he hadn’t set this boundary between you. Perhaps it’s that boundary keeping him still on the bed. There certainly wouldn’t be any complains from you if he crossed that boundary, ripped your hand from your panties and fucked you until you couldn’t move. 

“Fuck.” He growls, almost as if he could read your thoughts, as if there was some sort of telepathic link between the two of you giving him a glimpse into your mind. It would explain how in tune he is with you, how he always seems to know, how easily he can read you. 

Your movements falter as he slides his hand down his stomach, tugging at the button on his jeans. You watch, enraptured as he slips his own hand into his pants, palming at his bulge. Your mouth waters at the thought of finally seeing him, of getting a glimpse of what lies beneath. He’s big, you know he has to be. Alphas generally are, thick and long to match their build.

Your pussy clenches at the thought of the stretch, how he’ll have to open you up with his fingers first so it doesn’t hurt. He’ll take good care of you, making sure you’re nice and slick and ready for him before he sinks into you, still stretching you with his cock. 

A needy moan falls from your lips as slick gushes around your fingers, increasing the wet squelch of them with every thrust. Simon’s hand slips under his briefs, wrapping around his cock. You keep your gaze on the movement of his hand beneath the fabric as he pumps his length in time with the movements of your hand. 

Your free hand grips the sheets under you as you adjust the position of your fingers, pressing your palm against your throbbing clit. The coil in your stomach is tightening, your thighs beginning to shake as you get closer and closer to the edge. 

“Gonna cum?” He rasps, his hand pumping his cock faster as he chases his own high. “Gonna cum for me?” 

“Yes!” You gasp out, curling your fingers against that spongy spot inside you. “Yes!” 

He curses, the word a drawn out rumble in his chest as your thighs close, squeezing around your hand as you cum around your fingers. Your back arches as you nearly spasm from the pleasure, working yourself through the orgasm as he grunts in pleasure from his own approaching orgasm. 

Your body settles, still shaking slightly as you withdraw your fingers from your underwear. They’re shiny with slick and your cum and you lift them to your mouth, letting your tongue dart out to lick at your own juices. 

The sound Simon lets out is nearly animalistic, the pace of his hand frantic as his head tilts back, his hips jerking. You watch him cum, the muscles in his arms flexing as he spills into his underwear. It’s beautiful, the sight of him lost in pleasure. You wish you could see his face, see the way he looks in this moment, but you can’t. Instead you focus on the way his eyes flutter, those long blonde lashes golden in the light from your lamp. 

His breaths are heavy, chest heaving as he comes down from his own high. Your own breathing has settled as you lay there lax at the end of your bed. It’s quiet between you for a moment, his gaze locked on yours. How far things have come just from a couple weeks of distance from each other. It’s impossible not to wonder if something happened, if there was a close call that caused him to think of all the things he’d regret not doing. Or perhaps it was just the distance, the realization that holding himself back was foolish and pointless. You’d welcome him with open arms, just as you had when he walked down the ramp and onto the tarmac. 

He had been the one to make that first move, kissing you when you least expected it. What had gone through his head to cause such a reaction? Had he panicked just as much as you would have, overthinking it until he convinced himself you wouldn't want it? Did the emotions of the moment take over and he couldn’t stop himself from giving in to those desires? Or had he simply faced those fears head on and did it because he wanted to? 

He knows how you feel. The kiss in the car had confirmed that, and you inviting him into your space was the gavel strike that sealed your fates. You don’t want to turn back, you wouldn’t turn back, not after everything. 

Simon moves first, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of your bed. You desperately want to know what he’s thinking, what’s going on in his head. He doesn’t regret this decision, does he? You’ve leaped over the boundaries he’d once set, sharing such an intimate, vulnerable moment with each other. You’d let him go if he wanted to leave, no matter how desperately you’d want to cling to him and beg him to stay. 

He pushes himself up to stand, jeans still unbuttoned as he turns to face you. “Be right back.” He says, leaning down to press a kiss to your head through the mask before he heads into your bathroom, closing the door. 

You let out a quiet breath, sitting there for a moment before you get up, tugging your sundress off. It’s late, the others likely in bed already, or heading that way. You wonder if he’ll be permitted a day off tomorrow, or if he’ll even want to take one. You know how strictly he likes to keep to his schedule, even when he has to be utterly exhausted. 

You’re tempted to pull his shirt off the bear and wear it as you stand there in nothing but your panties, but you’re not sure if that will be pushing too much at once. You decide against it, instead digging out a baggy shirt from your dresser, pulling it over your head. 

You rearrange your nest as water runs in the bathroom, pushing most of the pillows and stuffed animals to the end of the bed before you turn down the blankets, climbing in. Simon’s scent wafts up around you as you lay down, unable to stop yourself as you press your face into your pillow and inhale deeply. Your tongue darts out, pressing against the fabric before you can stop it. It’s musky and slightly tangy, making your mouth water. You want to lick it from the source, wrap your teeth around Simon’s scent gland and devour him. 

Your mind is hazy as you push yourself away from the pillow, blinking away the animalistic thoughts seeping to the front of your brain as the bathroom door opens. Simon steps out, taking a couple slow steps to the middle of your room. He stands there like he’s unsure of what to do next. Should he offer to leave, or ask to join you in bed? You can see the hesitation, the conflict as he tries to decide which is okay, which one might be the best decision. 

“You could join me, if you want.” You say, giving him an offer, a chance at a decision. You wouldn’t be upset if he left, well, not entirely. He’s shown a lot of vulnerability tonight, and you wouldn’t blame him if he wanted space to think over things. You don’t want him to leave, but you’d understand if he did. 

“Is that what you want?” He asks, shifting on his feet. 

“I did offer.” You shrug. “It’s up to you. I can always cuddle the bear.” 

His gaze drops to the bear seated on the floor next to the bed, still wearing his black t-shirt. His hands curl into fists before he looks back up at you. “Move over.” 

You try to hide your grin as you press yourself back against the wall, watching as he unbuttons his jeans again. He pulls them off, folding them in half before draping them over your footboard. This is the most exposed he’s been in front of you, the most skin you’ve seen at one time. You can’t help but stare at his legs, thick thighs dusted with dark blonde hair and covered in scars. They’re not surprising to you, not after seeing the others, though he has the most by far. Small lines, pink and white speckling the skin. There’s a puckered scar on one calf, a bullet wound you now know. There’s a long, thick scar on the other thigh cutting from the side of his knee, up his thigh until it disappears under his briefs. 

You quickly avert your gaze as you realize he’s standing there, watching you. He quickly crawls under the blankets, a nervous sweat starting to form across your back. You don’t mean to make him uncomfortable, but it’s hard not to stare. You want to know, you want every story that explains every scar. You can’t even begin to imagine the horror of the big one on his leg. So far John has been the only one to tell you about all of his scars, as much as he could at least. Johnny had relayed a couple dramatic stories about his, and Kyle has told you about a couple when you’ve asked. You’re not even sure you could ask Simon, much less how you would go about it. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you’re suddenly yanked down against Simon’s chest, his arm wrapped around your back. 

“You’re thinking too much.” He says, shifting just slightly to get comfortable on the small bed. It’s a tight squeeze with the two of you, forcing you to nearly lay half on top of him. You’ve never wanted that dream of a bigger bed to be more true than in this moment. 

“Sorry.” You say, wincing at your instinct to apologize again. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“Not uncomfortable.” He says, his voice rumbling in his chest. “Just not used to it yet.” 

“Is that why you keep yourself covered as much as possible? The scars?” You ask, biting your lip as soon as the question comes out. You hadn’t meant to ask it out loud, but you can’t stop your curiosity. 

“Partly.” He says, his thumb stroking your back. “People like to stare, they like to talk.” 

“I don’t care about the scars.” You say quietly. “You all have them. Just...makes me worried thinking about the things that caused them.” 

He hums quietly, the sound vibrating in your ear. “Some scars are symbols of survival. Things that almost killed us, that should have. Some are old wounds the body won’t let go of.” 

“That’s very poetic.” You murmur. 

His hand squeezes your side. “Don’t tell Johnny. He’ll never let me live it down.” 

A sleepy smile tugs at your lips, the exhaustion of the day and the bliss from the events of the last hour begin to drag your mind into the realm of sleep. Simon reaches for your lamp, shutting it off, bathing the room in near darkness.The dark doesn’t scare you anymore, not with Simon here. His violence and brutality should scare you, but instead, it only makes you feel safe. He’d make anyone who dared to try and hurt you pay. 

“Sweet dreams, Simon.” You murmur, a quiet purr rumbling in your chest, content as you drift off to sleep. 

It’s light out, the first rays of sunlight streaming through your window. You rub your eyes from the offending light, reaching for your sheets to tug them over your head but they’re caught around something. Your elbow knocks against something solid as you try and pull them up, a quiet grunt sounding beside you. 

Arms wrap around you, pinning you against a solid warmth. “Stop movin’.” Simon grumbles, tossing a leg over you to keep you still. 

You’ve traded places with him in the night, his back against the wall as you lay stretched out on your back. A quiet purr starts rumbling in your chest as the memories from last night begin to seep through your half-awake brain. He stayed the whole night with you. You had half expected him to get up, to leave, to wake up early, stick to his normal routine. Instead he’d stayed, even far later than he usually would. 

You turn your attention to the arm wrapped around you, your eyes trailing his tattoos. You’ve never seen them this close, able to make out the details of them now. Your fingers begin to trace his tattoos, working your way up his arm until you reach his sleeve, pushing it up as you continue to follow the tattoos all the way up to his shoulder. It’s when you get there you see something familiar. You hold his sleeve out of the way as you trace over the three images. 

“You got a tattoo for each member of the pack.” You say quietly. 

“Almost.” He says, tightening his hold around you. “Missing one.” 

You turn as best you can to look up at him, the meaning of his words not lost on you. His eyes are still closed, and had you not known better, you might have guessed he was still sleeping. His breaths are slow and even, his body still and relaxed. 

“What are you going to get?” You ask. 

“Haven’t decided yet.” He says simply. 

You turn in his grasp, managing to free one of your legs so you can toss it over his hip as you snuggle in close to him. “You could get a kitten, since that’s what Johnny calls me.” 

He snorts. “Absolutely not.” 

“Why not?” You say. “A fluffy little kitten would be cute!” 

“It would throw off the aesthetic.” He says, squishing you up against his chest. 

“Can I go with you when you get it?” You ask. 

“We’ll see.” He sighs, adjusting his leg between yours. 

You bite your lip as it presses against your mound. How easy it would be to press your hips down, grind against him. There’s still a warm electric current thrumming through you from the events of last night. Things have moved fast between you. You’ve gone from thinking he hates you to masturbating in front of each other in a matter of weeks. The leaps you’ve made between the two weeks he was gone almost seem surreal. Does he regret last night? Will he change his mind, retreat back into himself once the reality sets in? You had thought there was no going back once he stepped into your room, but in reality, he could decide to pull back, he could decide this isn’t what he wants after all. 

You’d let him. You’d watch him revert back into himself, face the pain of rejection and acknowledge that what you wanted turned out to be nothing but a dream. His comfort matters more than your needs. You’d fight to cling to the fraying bonds for nothing else besides the sanity and stability of your pack. His rejection would slice clean through those supposedly indestructible bonds, disrupting the dynamic of the pack. It would fracture, crumbling like a building with a structural failure. The bonds that they built with each other, the bonds they’ve built with you will snap leaving decaying waste with you and Johnny caught right in the middle of it all. 

You’ll do everything in your power to cling to those decaying edges, frantically gluing them back together like omegas are supposed to. Fight to hold the pack together while the betas desperately try to resolve the tension and keep everyone sane. It will be the end of the pack, the initiative will be a failure. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have pushed so much. It’s all going to go down in flames because of you. 

“You’re thinking too much again.” 

The quiet rumble of Simon’s voice pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. It drags you back to reality, back into your body from the quickly deepening hole of worry and fear in your mind. Your eyelids flutter as you take a deep breath, the musky scent of alpha clearing away the haze that had come over your mind. You’re still laying in Simon’s arms, pressed up against his chest, his thigh pressed between your legs. 

“How do you always know?” You murmur, snaking your arm around his side. 

“You have tells. You freeze, staying so still even the best snipers in the world would be impressed. You get this glazed over look in your eyes, and your scent changes depending on what you’re thinking about.” He says, tightening his hold around you. 

“You notice all of that?” You ask in amazement and embarrassment that he can read you so easily. You’re still not used to it, his uncanny ability to just know things when it comes to you. 

“‘S part of my job,” He says, shifting slightly closer to you. “What makes me so good at it.” His face presses against the top of your head as his thigh shifts between your legs, putting even more pressure against your clothed pussy. “You’re overthinking this, aren't you.” 

“I just...” You let out a shuddering breath, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs. “I need to know if you regret last night.” 

A low grumble vibrates through his chest before you find yourself suddenly on your back under him. It happened so fast your brain can’t even register it completely, his hand is gripping your thigh, the one you had thrown over his waist, keeping it hooked over his hip. He’s pressed between your legs, body slotted against yours like he was made to fit there perfectly. Hard edges pressed against your soft curves. 

“Does this feel like regret to you?” He says, voice rumbling deep in his chest as he presses his hips into yours. 

You can feel him...all of him through his briefs as he presses against you, nothing but thin fabric separating you. He’s just as big as you imagined, long and thick and throbbing. He drags his hips along your covered slit, closer than he’s ever been to you. The electrifying moment during training is almost nothing compared to the feeling of him pressed against you. 

“No.” You squeak out, wrapping your arms around his back as he continues to grid against you. You can feel every inch of him against your quickly dampening underwear, the fabric sticking to you and providing delicious friction with every roll of his hips. 

Your hands slip under his shirt, your palms pressing against the warm skin of his lower back. A shudder runs through him, dragging a low growl from his lips. He releases you just long enough to tug his mask up over his mouth before he descends on your neck, your head tilting to the side to give him room. 

The front of his briefs are quickly getting wet from the slick coating your thighs and his precum. Your nails sink into his skin as his teeth scrape across your throat, his tongue following to ease the sensitive, stinging skin. 

“Simon,” You whimper, pressing your hips up against him, desperately seeking relief from the ache building in your core. 

He lifts his face from your throat, your lips clashing against his in a mix of teeth and tongue. His hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. He uses his hold on you for leverage as the drag of his hips becomes almost violent. You can imagine it, the feeling of his cock thrusting into you, reaching so deep you can feel him in your stomach, the way you’ll ache for days after he’s done with you. 

“Simon, fuck...” You whine against his lips, your legs shaking as you get closer and closer to the edge. “Please!” 

His grunts and moans have turned into growls, low and deep in his chest. It sends a shiver up your spine, your omega rolling in your mind, scratching to be free. You sink your teeth into his lower lip until you taste blood, the air between you quickly becoming primal. His hand tugs on your hair, pulling your head back until your throat is bared to him. He sinks his teeth into the skin, biting until you yelp. He eases back, dragging his tongue over the sore spot. 

Your moans get louder as you get closer and closer to the edge, every sharp bite of his teeth into your neck sending a shockwave of pleasure straight to where his cock drags against your clit. You feel alive, your vision getting sharper as you get closer and closer to your orgasm. 

“Simon....Simon please.” You whine, clutching him to you so tightly it almost hurts. “I need you. Need you to rearrange my guts, fuck me until I can’t stand. Make me hurt, remind me that I’m yours.” 

A low growl reverberates in his chest, vibrating through your entire body. Your thighs squeeze around his hips, hanging onto him for dear life as he ruts against you like an animal. “Say it again.” He growls, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin of your ear. 

“I’m yours.” You gasp, your back arching. “Have been since the first day.”

“Fucking hell.” He grunts, grinding his hips against yours with so much force the headboard bangs against the wall. 

You cum almost instantly, soaking your underwear and his briefs. He shoves his face into your throat, inhaling deeply against your scent gland. His hand grips the pillow next to your head, his body tensing as his hips jerk against yours. Warmth coats his briefs as he spills into them for a second time in the last day, a deep growl rumbling in his chest as he nearly goes limp on top of you. 

Both of you lay there, shaking and twitching in the aftershocks of your orgasms. It’s hot and stuffy in the room, the heat from Simon’s body not helping any. For a moment you wonder if he’s fallen asleep again from how still and relaxed he is, but the twitch of his body as you soothe your hands over the marks you’ve left on his back says otherwise. 

“Simon?” You speak his name quietly in the sudden stillness of the room. 

“Soon.” He says, slowly beginning to untangle himself from you. “I’ll give you what you need soon.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, shockingly soft compared to what had just transpired. 

He slips a hand around your back, flipping the two of you again as he flops on his back on your bed. You fall against his chest, resting your head over his heart. Despite the exertion, it’s thumping steadily and evenly. Your pussy clenches at the thought of his stamina, how long he’ll be able to go. You’ll tire before him, nothing but a boneless, babbling omega as he fucks you blind and unconscious. 

The moment is ruined by the knock at the door, both of you tensing for a moment. 

“If you don’t hurry, you’ll miss breakfast.” John’s voice sounds from the other side. 

Your cheeks warm at the idea of him hearing what had just transpired. How long has he been standing out there, waiting for you to finish? Does he think Simon was just fucking you, or does he somehow know you had just been rutting away like two eager pups? You can picture the tent in his pants, the way he adjusts the painful bulge at the thought of you being taken by his second alpha. He’s been waiting for this, for the walls to finally come down, for you and Simon to finally release that pent up energy and remove the weight that has been hovering over everyone’s heads. 

“Come on,” Simon says, sitting up with you in his arms. “Need to get some food in you.” He stands, still holding you like it’s nothing to him. It probably isn’t, but the thought has your face nearly bursting into flames. 

He sets you back on your feet, his hands lingering on your sides. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in the beautiful brown irises. He holds your gaze for a moment before delivering a sharp swat to your ass. 

“Get yourself cleaned up, then we’ll go.” He pulls away from you, grabbing his jeans off the end of your bed. 

You stare at his ass as he bends over to pull them on, an idea popping in your head. “Wait,” You say before he can leave, pulling off your panties. You tuck them into his back pocket, giving it a firm pat. “Keep them.” You stand up on your toes, kissing his cheek before scurrying off to the bathroom before you get distracted again. 

You’re still shaking as you tug your shirt over your head. You look like you’ve been mauled by an animal as you stare at yourself in the mirror. There’s marks across your neck from Simon’s teeth, and your hair is a tangled mess from his hands. Your thighs are trembling a bit as you stand there, your slick drying uncomfortably on your thighs. Your lips feel bruised as you quickly brush your teeth before stepping into the shower. 

The excited tremble of your hands makes holding the body wash a struggle. You still feel electric, your mind rushing from not one but two very intimate moments between you and Simon. If this is how you feel now, you can only imagine how you’ll feel after actually having sex.

You feel a bit sore as you get dressed, doing your best to hide the scattering of marks across your skin. You don’t really have to hide them. Everyone knows you fuck the members of the 141. The images that must flash through their minds when you walk around with them. Do they think you take all of them at once? On your knees as they stand around you, being a good omega for them like in some cheesy porn video? Or bent over, presented for them as they make a mess of your pussy, fucking each other’s cum into you until you can’t hold anymore and it seeps out, leaving you laying in a puddle of it?

Your pussy clenches at the thought, warmth starting to pool in your stomach again. 

“Down girl.” You say, talking to yourself as you slip on your shoes. “We’re not there,” You straighten back up, smoothing your hands over your shirt. “Yet.” 

You take a deep breath, trying to steady the excited thrumming between your legs as you step out into the hallway. Simon is waiting for you, having changed clothes, or at least you think so. He’s in a black t-shirt and jeans still, his most common uniform when he’s not in training. 

“Come on, let’s go.” He says, motioning towards the door with his head. 

He didn’t change his shirt. 

The overwhelming scent of alpha and sex and you is wafting off of him. He might as well be wearing a bright neon sign declaring what you were up to this morning. Your omega purrs at the idea of him being coated in your scent, staking your claim over him. Maybe you shouldn’t have showered after all, wanting to wear a matching scent projecting his own claim over you. 

The mess is sparsely occupied this late in the morning, something you’re silently grateful for. Had you walked in during the peak breakfast time, you might have died on the spot. Most don’t pass a glance your way, only those you pass by directly giving you both a second look. 

Simon yanks your tray from your hands as you grab one, setting it down on the counter next to his. He begins spooning food onto it, adding the things you like. You stare at your tray wide-eyed as he fills it, your omega practically preening. 

He doesn’t even let you carry it to the table, setting it down next to his. You beam up at him as he stares down at you, unable to hide your smile. 

“What?” He asks, his eyes scanning your face. 

Your smile widens. “Thanks for making my tray.” 

He glances down at your full tray before looking back at you. “Sit down and start eating.” 

You can’t stop smiling as you sit on the bench, Simon going to get you something to drink. The activities this morning have left you hungry, hungry enough that the mess food looks appetizing. Simon returns quickly, setting a cup of tea down in front of you. 

“Tea?” You ask, staring at it.

“Yeah. ‘S good for you.” He says, starting in on his own breakfast. “Better than that sugary milk you call coffee.” 

“But you put sugar and milk in your tea.” You say, looking up at him. 

He turns to you, giving you an exasperated look. “Anyone ever tell you you’re annoying?” 

“Yeah. All the time.” You say, taking a bite out of the sausage on your fork. 

“Little shit.” He murmurs under his breath, turning back to his own tray. 

You both eat in comfortable silence, no awkward or tentative energy between you like you had worried there would be after the events that transpired over the last few hours. There’s no dancing around each other anymore, the forced distance dispersed between you. It makes you happy, your omega satisfied as your pack now feels complete. 

You almost feel like skipping as Simon leads you back to the barracks. You slip your hand into his, swinging your arms back and forth. He doesn’t pull away or even complain at your actions, letting you have your moment. Who knew he was such a big softie underneath all that armor? 

Well, you sort of knew the whole time. He could have been mean. He could have been nasty towards you, forcing you into a corner made up of only you, John, and Kyle. He could have kept Johnny from you, drawing that line in the pack and keeping you on one side. He could have let you face the consequences of punching that alpha on your own. So many times he could have left you on your own, been rough with you, let things escalate until he was violent, let his anger win and use it against you as many alphas do. 

But he didn’t. 

Even in his early avoidance of you, he was never a bad alpha towards you. He might not have liked you at first, or approved of your presence, but he never took it out on you. He put up with you because he had to, until his hesitant tolerance grew into more. You had wiggled your way in without even knowing it, long before you started trying, long before you became determined to win his approval for your sake, as well as the rest of the pack’s. 

Look at you now, holding his hand after he made you orgasm an hour ago. You would have never thought you’d get to this place with him back then. You’ve surpassed the point you wanted to get to, but you’re certainly not going to complain. You’ve gotten what you wanted, and from the sounds of it, so has he. 

It’s been two days since Simon’s return, and he has yet to fuck you. The marks on your neck have begun to fade, and you wonder if he’s waiting until they’re gone so he can make new ones. He certainly hasn’t been ignoring you, no he’s been quite clingy. He sits close to you, holds your hand every chance he can. He’s been filling your trays at meals when he takes you to the mess, something John is content to let him do. 

Your omega is satisfied, still preening at the idea of him courting you. You certainly won’t complain, nor will you try to stop him. He could claim you too, if he wanted. He could have claimed you from the start and you would have let him. Back then it would have been because it was your duty to do what your pack wanted. Now it would be because you want him to. You want to be his, just as much as you’re John’s. 

You won’t tell him that, though. Not yet. You don’t want to push him, to seem like you’re trying to move too quickly. You don’t want to scare him off now after making so much progress. That can be a conversation for later, once the two of you have adjusted to this new development in your relationship. 

An excited shiver trails down your spine as you stand outside the door. It’s early, but the world outside is grey with the coming dawn. Your heart jumps as the door in front of you opens, Simon pausing as he exits his room. He blinks down at you as you grin up at him, obviously not expecting you to be up and ready before him. 

“Ready to go?” You say, bouncing excitedly on your toes. 

He rolls his eyes at you, pulling his door closed behind him. “You’re in far too good a mood for 4:30 in the morning.” 

“I’m excited.” You say, taking his arm as you walk down the hallway. 

“And far too happy.” He says as you step out into the cool morning air. 

“I am happy.” You say, leaning your head against his arm. “You make me happy.” 

He lets out a sigh, and you can almost hear him rolling his eyes at you. “Don’t make me regret this.” 

You pause outside the door to the gym, looking up at him. “You don’t, do you?” 

He stares down at you for a long moment, your heart beating in your ears. You don’t want to scare him off with your happiness, the glee you can’t control at the relief of finally being accepted by him, of finally feeling like your pack is complete. 

“No.” He says, opening the door for you. “Now get your ass inside.” 

Relief floods through you, a smile tugging at your lips as you step into the gym. It’s quiet inside, quieter than normal even for 4 AM. 

“Most of them are out running drills today.” Simon says as he leads you down the hallway to the training room. “Base will be quiet.” 

“Won’t catch me complaining.” You say as you step into the training room. 

Simon locks the door behind you, setting his things on the bench and kicking off his shoes. You stare at him shamelessly as you follow him onto the mat, unsure whether you should thank or curse the grey sweatpants hugging his ass. 

He turns to face you and you decide to curse them, warmth flooding through you. Your mind flashes back to the morning after his return, the feeling of his cock grinding against you, his teeth sinking into your skin, leaving marks all over you. 

Fuck this is going to be a long training session. 

You’re half distracted as he runs you through combinations, most of your punches missing, your kicks almost half-hearted as most of your energy is pulsing between your legs. You keep messing up, punching at the wrong time, the order getting messed up in your mind. Agreeing to train today was probably a bad idea, given the uncontrollable lust that’s been plaguing you. Being so close to Simon and his scent isn’t helping either. 

You mess up another combo, half distracted, half dazed as you throw a punch, missing the mitt entirely. Simon lets out a frustrated growl, moving before you can even think to block yourself as he drives his shoulder into the center of your chest. You fall flat on your back, the air leaving your lungs with a sharp gasp. 

You lay there, coughing and gasping as he comes to stand over you, staring down at you disappointedly. “You’re distracted.” 

“Yeah,” You cough out, trying to catch your breath. “You keep fucking with my head.” 

“Half of fighting an alpha is a mind game. They’re going to fuck with you, because it will work.” He says, lowering himself to his knees over you. 

“Yeah, but this is different.” You say, your breathing finally returning back to normal. 

Or it was. Your inhale catches in your throat as he leans over you, his hands settling on either side of your head. “How?” He asks, his voice rougher than it had been. 

You take a deep breath as you stare up at him, feeling very small in this position, but you know he’s doing it on purpose. “I don’t want you to fuck with my head,” You say, trying to gain the upper hand. “I want you to fuck me.” 

Your words stun him for a moment, and you take the opportunity to try and reverse your positions. You swing your fist towards his side, aiming for the spot below his ribs. He recovers faster than you thought he might, catching your hand before you can make contact. He pins it to the mat beside your head, pinning your other hand on the other side. You try to use your knees to hit him, but he settles his weight over you, effectively pinning you to the mat. 

The position is reminiscent of the morning after he returned, his body pressed into yours, clinging to you as you both chased your orgasms. It sends a shiver down your spine, your body shuddering under him. His grip around your wrists shifts, pulling your hands over your head. He holds them with one of his own hands, keeping them pinned to the mat. A thrill shoots through you as you stare up at him, his body shifting to the side. 

“You want me to fuck you?” He growls, lifting his mask up to his nose. “Want me to take you right here where anyone walking by could hear you screaming my name? Where they could stand at the door jerking themselves off like needy pups, hoping to get just a whiff of your scent?” 

You would let him. He could take you right now on this mat and you wouldn’t care. Heat is pulsing between your legs, slick soaking your underwear and quickly beginning to seep through to your leggings. 

“Yes!” You whine, clenching your thighs together, seeking out any kind of friction you can get. “Please!” 

His free hand grips your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks to force your mouth open. He leans over you, holding your gaze as he spits into your mouth. Your whine is cut off as two of his fingers follow, pressing against your tongue. They taste salty from the sweat on his hands, yet you don’t care, licking the sweat from his skin. The pulsing of your pussy is starting to get to be too much, your thighs rubbing together in a desperate attempt to ease the ache. 

You moan around his fingers, laving your tongue over them as he shifts his gaze to your legs, watching you squirm and writhe. You can hardly stand it, his scent getting thicker and thicker in the air as he begins to get aroused as well. You nip at his fingers, trying to get him to pull them from your mouth. 

“Please!” You gasp as soon as your mouth is free. “Fucking touch me, Simon!” 

It’s like he had been waiting for your permission as his hand slips between your clenched thighs, cupping you over your leggings. You press your hips into his hand, grinding against him in desperate need for release. 

“What, you want this?” He says, rubbing his hand along your clothed slit. 

“Yes!” You almost sob, squeezing your thighs around his hand. “Please, Simon! Please!”

You lift your head as he slides his hand up your pelvis until it’s resting right at the waistband of your leggings. His eyes are on your face as he slowly pushes his fingers under the fabric, trailing lower and lower until he reaches the top of your mound. Your breath hitches in anticipation, lips parted as your chest heaves with every breath. So close. You’re so close to finally being touched by him. So close to getting relief. 

Your head falls back against the mat, a loud moan slipping from your lips as he finally slides his fingers lower, the rough pads brushing over your clit. “Fuck...” You whine, letting your legs fall open as he begins to circle the sensitive bud. 

It’s more than you could have imagined, better than you would have ever thought, and all he’s done is rub a few circles over your clit. His touch is electric, lighting a fire in you again, sending shocks straight through your nervous system and into your brain. You push against the hand holding your wrists but he doesn’t relent, not letting you touch him like you so desperately want to. 

His fingers leave your clit, sliding lower until they’re pressed against your hole. You shift your hips against his hand, trying to get even some relief from the ache that’s been throbbing between your legs for two days. You’ve avoided even touching yourself, wanting to make sure you were still sensitive and ready for when Simon decided he was ready. You’re glad for that now as Simon presses two of his fingers into you, your walls clamping down around them tightly. 

“C’mon,” He groans in your ear, his tongue darting out to lick at the sweat dampening your face. “Relax for me.” 

You breathe deeply, trying to get yourself to relax as he pushes his fingers further into you. His fingers are so long and thick, his knuckles catching at your entrance. 

“This tight around my fingers, how are you gonna take my cock?” He groans, thrusting his fingers gently to try and open you up for him. 

“I can take it.” You pant, bucking your hips against his hand to take his fingers deeper into you. 

“Been a while since someone fucked you, huh?” He says, beginning to thrust his fingers in and out of you. 

“Weeks.” You whine, your pussy fluttering around his fingers in relief. “Not since before you left.” 

“Oh?” His brows raise in surprise. 

“Missed you too much.” You gasp as he speeds up the movements of his fingers. “Didn’t want to.” 

“You were hoping I’d fuck you when I got back, huh.” He says, curling his fingers inside you. “Give this poor neglected cunt some attention.” 

You let out a moan that’s almost a sob as he finds that spongy spot inside you, directing the movements of his fingers directly against it. Your hands close into fists, pushing against his but he doesn’t let you go, starting to nearly pound his fingers against that spot. 

It’s too much and not enough all at once, your body starting to shake almost violently as pressure builds in your stomach. You’re being loud but you don’t care, unable to hold anything back as pleasure ripples through you, nearly blacking out your vision. You writhe on the mat, legs shaking as your feet plant on the floor, lifting your hips up against his hand. 

“That’s it.” He groans, the wet squelch of his fingers obscene in the quiet training room. 

Your body writhes from the intensity of your pleasure, tears leaking from your eyes uncontrollably. You can’t tell if you’re moaning or sobbing or both as pleasure cuts like a knife through you, toes curling and uncurling in your shoes. It’s like you’ve lost all control, your body given over to the pleasure as his fingers are pushed out of you from the force of your orgasm, fluid soaking your underwear.

You’re shuddering and shaking under him as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing it harshly. It’s almost too much, your pussy contracting almost painfully. A second orgasm is forced out of you, your thighs clamping together, your leggings soaked with fluid between your thighs. 

Simon finally relents, pulling his fingers from your pants. They’re soaked, shiny and slick with your release. You’re gasping for air, body still shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Good girl.” Simon praises you, wiping his hand on his sweatpants as he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It’s strange, the tenderness after what he had just done to your body. 

And that was only with his fingers. 

He eases you up to sit, your legs trembling uncontrollably. You’re not sure how you’re even supposed to stand on them, much less walk. There’s an uncomfortable wetness between your legs, your panties and leggings sticking to your skin. 

“Easy.” He says, supporting your body as you try to rise to your feet. 

There’s a small puddle where you were laying, the outline of your body in sweat on the mat and then more fluid beneath where your ass had been. Simon lifts you into his arms, carrying you over to the bench before sitting you down. He wipes down the mat, cleaning up the mess you left before he approaches you again. 

“What was that?” You ask, shifting uncomfortably in your wet underwear. 

Simon smirks, slipping his phone and keys as well as your phone into his pockets. “Made you squirt, love.” 

Your mouth falls open, your thighs subconsciously clenching together. “You-what?” You blink in surprise. “Didn’t know I could do that.” 

He chuckles, lifting you into his arms again. “Gotta know what you’re doing to make it happen.” 

Warmth floods your cheeks as the double meaning of his words aren’t lost on you. You’re glad for the cool air outside as he carries you back towards the barracks, your legs still trembling a bit from the intense orgasm he had just given you. You’re glad the base is mostly empty, the thought of others knowing what he had just done to you is almost too much. 

“What happened?” Johnny asks as soon as Simon enters the door of the barracks, his eyes flickering back and forth between you. “Didnae hurt her, did ye?” He asks, getting defensive. 

“Quite the opposite.” Simon says, walking past him towards your door. “Taught her a little party trick.” 

Johnny’s nostrils flare as your scent finally hits him, his eyes going wide. “Fucking christ, Simon.” 

He starts towards your door as Simon sets you on your feet, but the alpha pushes him back, keeping him from entering your room. “Easy, mutt. She’s had enough this morning. Let’s get some food and liquids into her first.” 

Your pussy clenches in anticipation at his words and you quickly close the door before you, or they, change their minds. 

You’re not quite sure what to do as you stand in front of the open door, peering into a space you’ve never been in before. It almost feels wrong to take the step, to enter into sacred ground you’ve been kept out of until now. The space is plain and laid out not entirely unlike your own. There’s books lining the back of the desk, a box with what looks like records sitting on the floor next to it, and what looks like a painting hanging on the wall. The wardrobe is exactly where yours is, and you can assume there’s a dresser behind the door. 

“You going to come in or do I have to drag you?” 

You startle at the voice, lifting your gaze to Simon’s. He’s standing in the middle of the room, staring at you as you hesitate in the doorway. You swallow the lump in your throat, taking a step into the room, and then another. 

All feelings of plainness go out the window as you step further in. His bed is the same as yours, sheets blue instead of black like you might have assumed. There’s a nightstand next to the bed with a lamp and his phone, but that’s not what’s surprising to you. 

Across the wall behind his bed is a black and white mural of skulls stretching wall to wall, ceiling to floor. You stare at it in awe, taking in all the details, the shading, the realism. 

“Johnny did it for me.” Simon says, stepping up next to you. “Not long after I claimed him.” 

“It’s incredible.” You say. “Very fitting.” 

“Might need to commission him for another piece, one of the ones he’s done of you.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, very aware of Johnny’s stash of drawings of you from pictures he’s snapped while you weren’t looking, and some while you were. You’d flipped through his sketchbook, just happening upon a rather detailed drawing of your tits when he’d grabbed it and quickly shoved it on top of his wardrobe. 

It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what filled the rest of the pages in that book. 

“I’m sure he’d be happy to do one for you.” You say, turning to face him. “Maybe if you ask nicely, I could be convinced to do a custom reference for him.” 

His eyes darken as he stares at you, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Your teeth sink into your lip as you stare up at him, refusing to look away despite the strong musky scent rolling off of him. You stand your ground, pushing back against his attempts to make you yield, to make you submit. 

A shiver runs down your spine as he takes a step closer, and then another. You can feel the warmth of his body as he looms over you, his hand lifting to settle on your waist. His thumb brushes your side through your shirt, the heat of his palm radiating through the fabric. 

“You want me to fuck you?” He asks, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. 

“Yes, sir.” You respond. 

His hand tightens around your waist, his scent intensifying at your words. “Fuck,” He hisses, the front of his pants suddenly getting tighter. “Brazen little shit.” 

A smile tugs at your lips. “You love it.” 

“Mmm, you seem so sure of that.” He says, tugging the bottom of his mask up. 

“Because I am.” You say, lifting yourself up onto your toes. 

He bends down, meeting you halfway. Your lips clash in a fiery kiss, your hands lifting to grip his shoulders. His own slide down your sides to grip your thighs, lifting you into his arms. He walks backwards, kicking his door closed before pressing you up against it. 

You moan as your back hits the door, Simon’s tongue sliding into your mouth as soon as your lips part. The kiss is messy and rough, his fingers digging into your thighs as he pins you against his door. It’s finally happening, what you’ve been waiting for. Two long days you’ve been waiting and wishing for this moment. Simon’s bruising grip on your thighs, and the low rumbling growl echoing in his chest speak volumes of his own desire. 

His grip tightens on you, almost becoming painful as his teeth sink into your lip. You let out a surprised yelp as he breaks the skin, the coppery tang of blood filling your mouth. 

You nearly hit the floor as Simon wrenches himself away from you, stumbling back a couple of steps. He wipes the blood from his lip and you quickly purse your own lips to try and hide the blood. He turns his back to you, his shoulders tensed and slightly hunched. 

“Simon?” You take half a step forward, but he lifts his hand, making you pause. 

You stay where you are, staring at his back. You don’t want this to ruin things, to push him away from you. A little blood hasn’t stopped you so far, nor has a little pain. You can tell he’s nervous, though, on edge, and you know exactly why. 

“Simon?” You say quietly, approaching him slowly. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, repeating the words he’s said over and over the last few weeks. It’s almost like a mantra now, and you can imagine it echoing over and over in his head. He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder as you reach him. 

“You won’t.” You say, putting your hands on his back, turning him slowly. “You haven’t so far. His eyes flicker between the healing marks on your neck, and your bleeding lip. “I trust you, Simon.” 

“You shouldn’t.” He says, his hands closing into fists. 

“Don’t be stupid.” You say, rolling your eyes. “We both want this. Denying it isn’t going to make anything better. I trust your ability to control yourself, and you have to trust that I’ll tell you if you go too far.” 

“What if I can’t stop?” 

“Johnny’s next door, and John is across the hall.” You say simply. “If nothing else, I’ll scream. They’ll know the difference.” You take his face in your hands, pulling him down slightly so you can look him in the eyes easier. “Let me be in control if you’re so worried.” 

A rumble vibrates deep in his chest at your words, his eyes flashing. Your thumbs stroke his cheeks, ghosting over his five-o’clock shadow. 

“The mask can stay on, hell all of your clothes can stay on.” You shrug. “I’ll take good care of you, I promise.” 

He stares down into your eyes for a moment before leaning forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. It’s softer this time, less heated and animalistic than before. 

Simon releases you, taking a step back. He unbuttons his pants, letting them drop to the floor, leaving him in just his briefs. He picks them up, folding them like he did two nights ago, draping them over the back of his desk chair. He hesitates for a moment so you take the lead, pulling your shirt up over your head. You drop your shorts as well, leaving you in just your bra and underwear. 

Simon’s eyes scan your body and you fight the urge to cover yourself under his intense gaze. He steps forward, his fingers reaching for you. They’re surprisingly soft as they trail up your arm, goosebumps forming on your skin. His eyes follow the path of his fingers before they reach the strap of your bra. He slips his fingers underneath, pulling it up before he releases it, letting it snap against your skin. 

“Take it off.” He says, a subtle growl underneath his voice. 

It sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps forming all over your skin. “Thought I was in charge, Mr. Big Alpha Man.” 

“Little shit.” He breathes, letting out a long sigh. 

You reach behind you anyway, undoing your bra and letting it fall to the floor. 

“Christ.” He breathes, his eyes glued right on your tits. 

“Understanding all the hype now?” You smirk. “You can touch them if you’d like.” 

He curses under his breath but lifts his hands anyway, cupping your breasts. You bite your lip as he squeezes them gently, his eyes glued to your chest. 

“Didn’t take you for a tits guy.” You say, biting back a moan as his thumb brushes over your nipple. 

“I'm just full of surprises.” He says, earning a surprised yelp as he tugs harshly on your nipple. 

He leans down, dragging his tongue over the sensitive skin to soothe it. You let out a soft moan at the sensation, your hands lifting to grip his biceps. 

“Fuck,” He groans against your skin, straightening back up. “On the bed.” He says, motioning with his head. 

“Thought I was in charge.” You sass. 

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you.” He retorts. 

You open your mouth to argue but you can't. You know he's right, so instead you make your way to the bed, crawling onto the mattress, making sure he can see the damp spot on your underwear as you do. 

You pause when you hear crinkling, running your hand over the sheet. “A heat liner?” 

“Gotta protect the mattress.” He shrugs, approaching the bed. 

Your eyes widen as your face warms, the implications not lost on you. You think back to earlier in the gym, your face only warming even more. “Oh.”

He grips the back of your knees, tugging you to the edge of the bed, pushing your knees up. You're spread open in front of him, the damp spot on your panties only getting bigger as he stares down at the only barrier left between you. 

“You could take a picture.” You say as he stands there, frozen. “Something to remember me by.”

“Little shit.” He says under his breath, his hands sliding up your inner thighs until they reach your hips. 

His fingers curl under the waistband of the lacy black fabric, slowly dragging them down over your ass and then down your legs. He tosses the fabric behind him before parting your legs again. He's shamelessly staring at your glistening pussy, bare and spread open for him. 

A moment passes as he stands there frozen, and for a second you wonder if he's ever seen a pussy before, much less a naked woman. Obviously he has, based on what happened earlier. He’s experienced, and you try not to let the thought bother you, jealousy rising at the thought of his hands on another woman. Did she get to see his face? How vulnerable was he with her. 

You bring your attention back to Simon as he stands there frozen. “You okay?” You ask, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. 

He nods, eyes still glued to your pussy. 

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stare up at his mask-covered face. “Why don't you show me what you did in the gym earlier.” You suggest, finally getting him to react.

His eyes flash up to your face, his grip on your legs loosening. He stares at you for a second before letting them go completely. “Wait here.” He disappears into the bathroom for a moment before he comes out carrying a towel. 

He lays it on the floor beside the bed, looking between you and the towel for a moment before nodding in approval. You watch him as he grabs a pillow, slipping it behind you to prop you up before sinking onto the mattress next to you. He pulls one of your legs over his lap, and you hook an arm around the other one, getting the idea. 

Your eyes are glued to his hand as he drags it across your stomach, letting his blunt nails scrape across your skin. You shiver in response, goosebumps covering your skin again. His hand slips through your folds, gathering some of your slick on his fingers before he returns to your clit, circling it like he had earlier. You let out a sigh, relaxing back against the pillow as he teases the sensitive bud. 

Simon leans closer to you, pressing gentle kisses to your jaw. “Fucking beautiful omega.” He praises you, his teeth scraping your skin gently. “Been working me up for weeks, laying in here listening to you fuck the others, those sweet little sounds coming from you.” He groans into your skin, his fingers applying more pressure to your clit. “Had me in here wanking like some needy teenager, imagining it was me making you scream like that, like it was your hand on my cock.” 

His words make you shiver. You know he’s heard you, it was impossible not to, but you had always pictured him with ear plugs in or headphones on, trying to drown out the noise. Or maybe he always chose those moments to shower, trying to drown you out with the water. 

You hadn't considered that he'd be in here masturbating to the sound of you being fucked by the others. You certainly wouldn’t have guessed it was you he was jerking off to. You would have assumed his focus was on the others and the sounds of their pleasure. Your pussy clenches at the mental image of him in bed, fisting his cock, trying not to cum until you do. He knows what you sound like when you cum, he'd have figured that out quickly. He'd use that knowledge, edging himself until you came so he could cum with you. 

“Fuck...” You moan, slick dribbling out of you at the thoughts flashing through your mind. 

“Nearly blacked out when you let Johnny fuck you from behind the first time.” He groans, circling your clit faster. “Imagining you bent over his bed, split open around his cock,” He shakes his head. “Wanted to be in there, bend him over you and fuck him into you, get both of you desperate and needy, begging me for release.”

Your head tilts back, your legs shaking as his words nearly send you over the edge. The mental images are almost too much, the possibilities now that you've opened this door. 

You whine as his hand leaves your clit, his fingers closing around your jaw and pulling your head back up. “Keep your head up.” He says. “Want you to watch.”

You whimper as he returns to your pussy, dragging his fingers down your slit before pressing two into your slick hole. They slide in easier than they did this morning, your body opening to him in anticipation. He thrusts his fingers slowly, teasing you as he continues to work you up. 

“Wanna fuck you so full of cum you're almost bursting then let Kyle eat it out of you. Might let him fuck you after just to see the two prettiest members of the pack together.” He continues. 

You squeeze around his fingers, a loud moan leaving your lips. You could cum from his words alone and the mental images flashing through your mind. All the possibilities, all the opportunities that are now in front of you. 

He curls his fingers, finding that spongy spot again. You know what's coming, the anticipation building in your stomach as he begins to thrust his fingers against that spot. 

“Want Price to bend you over my desk, watch as he fucks you until you're a crying mess, and then it will be my turn.” He growls, pounding his fingers against that spot. “Make you forget your name, forget how to do anything but whine in pleasure.

You desperately keep your eyes on his hand as that overwhelming pressure begins in your stomach again, your moans getting sharper and sharper the more it builds. Your hips jerk uncontrollably as you nearly black out again, fluid squirting from you and into the air. Simon's fingers are forced out of you from the intensity of the orgasm, but he's not done as he begins frantically rubbing at your clit. Another orgasm is forced out of you from the hypersensitivity as you squirt again, soaking your pussy and the side of the bed. 

You let your head fall back as you gasp for air, your body shuddering uncontrollably in the aftershocks of such an intense orgasm. Simon leans down, kissing you like he wants to devour you as he slips his fingers back inside your spasming pussy. It’s almost painful, the sensations too much as he stretches you open again. 

“One more.” He groans against your lips as he starts bullying that spot inside you with his fingers again. “Give me one more.”

“Simon,” you grip the front of his shirt, the feeling almost too much as it builds faster this time. “Simon!” You let out a high pitched shriek, squirting again all over his hand and the floor. 

“That's it.” He groans, finally relenting as his wet hand comes to rest on your clenching stomach. 

Tears blur your vision as you lay there shaking, nearly having an out of body experience from the pleasure. It's painful, but not in a bad way. 

His hand slides up your body until he's gripping your jaw, turning your face to his. He kisses you roughly, forcing his tongue past your lips as he holds you there, your release dripping from your pussy onto the sheets. His kiss is all tongue and teeth, bordering on the animalistic violence that had almost taken over you both two days ago. It had thrilled and terrified you, how easily both of you got lost in the moment. 

You hadn't even been naked then. 

You don't ponder on it long as he pulls away from you delivering a slap to your pussy before he stands, watching the way you jerk from the sharp sting on the sensitive skin. You nearly cum from it, pussy clenching from how sensitive you are. 

He reaches into the top drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a bottle. He moves to stand between your legs again, letting them fall to the sides for a moment. You're limp as you stare up at him, not sure you could move your body at all if you had to. You're beginning to understand why he was so worried.

He palms at the very prominent bulge in his briefs, an excited thrill running through you as he slips his hands under the waistband, slowly sliding it lower and lower. You lick your lips as more skin is revealed to you, a trail of light hair leading to the thick shaft of his cock. It keeps going and going as he lowers his briefs, thick and long and an angry red color as the fabric finally drops out of sight. 

“Fuck...” You breathe as you stare at it, looking big even in his large hand. 

He moves closer, lifting your legs from where they're hanging over the side of the bed, pushing them up as close to your chest as they can get, essentially folding you in half. His cock drags through your folds, the head catching on your clit. It makes you twitch with every pass of his hips, your lips parting in anticipation. You could cum like this, your pussy still oversensitive from your three orgasms already. Four, if you count the one in the gym earlier. 

“You said you could take it.” He teases, his hands keeping your legs pressed back. 

You nod. “Uh huh.”

“Having second thoughts?” He smirks. 

You're not sure if it's your ego or your pride or just sheer determination that has you shaking your head. “Nope.” 

His smirk widens as he reaches for the bottle, popping the cap before squirting some lube on his cock and onto your hole. He tosses the bottle back onto the bed before rubbing the lube on his cock, dragging the head through your slick folds, spreading the cold lube against the heated skin. “Good girl.”

You shiver from the praise, your breath catching in your throat as he begins to press into you. The burning stretch is almost too much for your oversensitive walls despite the preparation he had given you. His fingers were nothing compared to his cock, and for a moment you regret not fucking one of the others in the two weeks he was gone. 

Your breaths are coming in high pitched gasps, broken by moans as he sinks into you, your legs shaking and he hasn't even fucked you yet. You could cum just like this, just from the stretch. You can feel all of him, every inch of his length, every inch of his circumference as your pussy gapes around him. 

“Wait,” You grip his wrists, his movements pausing. “Fuck, gimme a second.” 

His eyes are on you as you lay there, trying to relax around him, fighting desperately not to cum like this. He might as well be in your guts, and you're beginning to think you had been right in asking him to rearrange them for you. You lift your head, staring down between your legs. A low groan of astonishment leaves your lips. He's only halfway in. 

You let out a keening moan before you nod. “Okay, okay. Keep going.” 

If his cock is this big, you can't even imagine taking his knot. 

He sinks even deeper, moving slowly as he watches your face. Your eyes are on the ceiling, the stretch seeming almost endless as it keeps going and going. 

Finally he's seated inside you, practically snuggled up against your cervix, or at least that's what it feels like. You could cum just like this, laying here with your knees by your ears, stuffed full of Simon's cock. He wouldn’t even have to move, just stand there as you flutter around him, soaking his cock with your release. 

“Fucking hell.” He groans as you squeeze around him, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath in. 

“Can't help it,” You moan, squeezing around him again. “So big.” 

He lets out a low groan, his hips twitching. “Tell me I can move. Let me fuck you.”

You're half tempted to stay silent, to lay here and see how long he lasts, how long he'll let you hold control before he takes over. A battle of wills, just as everything seems to become between you. Alpha versus omega, instinct versus instinct, willpower versus willpower. Just like every battle, though, you find yourself bowing, giving in, unable to fight the power he holds over you. It’s for a different reason this time, though, your desperation and neediness is just as strong as his. You’ve both been waiting for this, neglecting yourselves for far too long. 

“Fuck me, Simon.” You breathe, fingers gripping the sheets for dear life. “Fuck me till I can't remember anything but your name.” 

He lets out a low growl as he pulls back, drawing his cock out halfway before snapping his hips forward until they slap against yours. You yelp as your body rocks from the force of his thrust, not expecting it. He pulls his hips back slowly again before he repeats the motion, practically slamming into you. It hurts, stealing your breath away, but it leaves you feeling almost electric, pleasure bubbling under your skin.  

Slowly his thrusts get shorter, but they lose none of their force as he fucks into you roughly. You're creating quite the cacophony of sounds from skin slapping skin and the obscene squelch of your pussy to your high pitched keening moans and his deep growls. His eyes are glued to your face, watching the pleasure glaze over your eyes as you stare at the bulge in your stomach from his cock. 

He moves the pillow out from behind you, pushing you flat on your back as he folds his body over yours. He releases your legs, letting them drape over his shoulders as he continues to pound into you. There's a wild look in his eyes, your omega beginning to stir as your brain registers the shifting scents, the heavy musk in the room. 

Sweat has slicked your skin and Simon's, mixing where your skin is pressed together. He turns his head, licking the skin of your thigh, tasting the salty sweat. Your mouth feels dry as you stare up at him, wanting to sink your teeth into him and chew on him. You want to make him bleed, have him howling in pain as he stuffs you so full you'll be leaking for a week. 

You grip his forearms, your nails digging into his skin, making him hiss out a curse. A wild look flashes behind his eyes as he sinks his teeth into your thigh, clamping down as you continue to dig your nails into his arms, neither of you relenting. He shifts his hips just slightly, hitting a different angle that has you releasing his arms as pleasure wracks through you. He releases your thigh with a satisfied grin, fucking into at the new angle like a wild animal. 

Your body shudders, your moans muffling as he presses two of his fingers into your mouth again, pushing on your tongue. You choke around them, fighting every urge to sink your teeth into his skin until he releases you or you taste blood. 

“That’s it.” He grunts as you whimper desperately around his fingers. “You can take it.” 

Drool seeps out from around his fingers as he fucks you until you’re almost cross-eyed, your pussy spasming around him as every thrust brings you closer and closer to the edge. 

You can’t stop it as you sink your teeth into his fingers, your legs squeezing together as your body seizes, your release gushing around his cock as you cum. Your eyes roll back, blood on your tongue as he wrenches his fingers from your mouth. Your head tilts back, back arching as he doesn’t stop, undeterred by your orgasm. 

“Fucking hell.” He grunts, the clenching of your pussy almost painful as he continues to fuck you. “Fucking tight around me.” 

“Please, please, Simon!” You whine, the only two words you can pull from your brain, and even they begin to mesh together into mindless babble as you grip his sheets, nearly pulling them off the edges of the mattress. 

Tears leak from your eyes as he fucks into you so hard the frame shakes, knocking into the wall. He leans his head down, his teeth sinking into the skin over your collarbone until you bleed. Droplets of blood mix with the sweat dripping down your chest, Simon’s eyes following them as they disappear between your breasts. 

“Gonna cum for me again?” He growls, blood staining his lips red. He looks like a ghoul, wild eyed and bloody mouthed, feasting on your flesh. An incubus sucking the life out of you as he brings you endless pleasure. 

“Simon!” You squeal, eyes squeezing closed as you’re thrown into another orgasm, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you clench around him, almost as if your body is trying to suck his cock in deeper. 

He continues to fuck you, every curse word known to man spilling from his lips as you tighten around him, dragging his own orgasm from him. He slams his hips into yours, letting out a feral growl as he spills into you. Warmth fills your belly as he spurts his hot cum into you, filling you up. Your legs are shaking where they’re tossed over his shoulders, clenching around his neck. His skin is flushed red from the bottom of his mask to the collar of his shirt. 

You can’t move as you lay there, shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm. You want to take a break, tap out, ask for five minutes and a glass of water, but from the look in Simon’s eyes you know it’s not over yet. There’s no taking a break, not that he’s gotten a taste of your pussy. 

He releases your legs, letting them drop off the side of the bed. He pulls away long enough to flip you over, bending you over the side of the bed. You whine as he presses his cock back into you, ignoring the squeeze of your sensitive walls as he splits you open around him again. He bends over you, pressing his chest to your back as his hips press flush to your ass. 

“Simon.” You whine, your hands gripping the sheets as his hand snakes around you, wrapping around your throat.

He growls low and dangerous, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your back. You squeeze around him, a chill running through you, your instincts telling you to run or roll over in submission to him. Your omega claws at your mind, desperate to meet him toe to toe, one for one. You begin to push your hips back into him, fucking yourself on his cock as his teeth sink into the skin on the back of your shoulder. The tables have turned, the control has shifted. 

He’s not Simon anymore. 

Your lips part in a gasp as he thrusts into you, meeting your own movements on his cock, reminding you who’s in charge, who holds the reigns in this position. The word comes tumbling from your lips, brainlessly and unconsciously, no thoughts there to stop it, your hands too busy clinging to the sheets for dear life to even prevent it from slipping out. 

“Alpha!” 

NEXT ->

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[terrestrialnoob]

Harley crawled into the apartment. It was organized, but it looked like the occupant didn't have a lot of time for cleaning. She walked softly through it, taking it in. There were photos of her target and what had to be her family, but no friends or romantic partners. Some had a pair of older adults, matching traits meant bio-parents. More of the photos were of the target and a younger boy - a little brother, the highest likelihood of becoming another target if things go bad.

Harley continued forward, following the light to where her target was. She stood in the doorway, looking in.

Dr. Jasmine Fenton, Arkham Asylum's newest psychologist, just got her degree and everything. She did what most newbies do, actually thinking she could get through to the Joker. Harley didn't want to say it was impossible, but everyone who tried ended up in a new job or dead. Harley would try and make sure it was the former and not the later.

Harley watched as the redhead read over a file as she ate from a takeout box. She didn't want to scare the girl, yet. The scaring her away from Joker came later. So, she had to wait for the perfect moment to-

"I know you're there." Jasmine didn't look up from her file, but held out the last box of Chinese food in Harley's direction. "There's plenty if you want some."

"Awe, you ruined the surprise." Harley walked out of the shadows of the hallway into the girl's home office. She snatched the offered box of food and took a few bites as she jumped to sit on the desk.

"I'm hard to sneak up on." Jasmine said, closing her file and finally looking at Harley. "So, Dr. Quinzel, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this evening?"

"Oh, call me Harley!" She laughed, she wasn't called Dr. all that often any more. She tapped her chop sticks on the file Jasmine just closed. "I thought you'd like a consult on your new patient, Dr. Fenton. I've got a lot of experience with him."

"I prefer to go by Jazz." She said with a smile, "While I appreciate the offer, I'd like to see how far I can get on my own. And, sorry, but I'm pretty sure your license was revoked."

Harley nodded as she swallowed to get the noodles out of her mouth. "I get it! You're new, fresh outta school, gotta prove yourself. But Joker ain't the guy to do that with. He eats people like us for breakfast, and in all the years he's been in Arkham, no one's been able to get anywhere with him."

Jazz sighed, "I don't like to believe people are lost causes. There's always something we can do to help."

"You can't help everyone, especially when they don't want it. And it's not just a question if whether or not he can be saved or whatever." Harley set down the now empty box, Jazz pointed to another one that still had food in it, but Harley declined. "If you keep it up, he'll think you're worth his time to torment. There's no telling what he'll do when he inevitably gets himself out again."

"I'll be fine." Jazz said, but Harley had to cut her off before she said something stupid.

"It's not just you! You've got family out there he can target, your parents. Your Brother! Anyone you date will become a target! He'll do everything in his power to make your life miserable!"

Jazz chuckled. "If he wants to target my family, his funeral. My parents are - were supervillains. They've really only become less- well, hyper-focused on eradicating an entire race of being- in the past few years. And my brother - I'm pretty sure he's conditionally immortal. So that's nothing to worry about."

"If it's conditional, Joker will find a way around it." Harley said, but she had to admit, this might have been an unnecessary trip. "You sure y'ain't got nothing to worry about? What about you? How conditional is your mortality?"

Jazz smiled. Her mouth seemed too wide and with too many teeth. "Oh, I am nowhere near immortal. But..."

She stood up and the room was suddenly a black void. Toxic green eyes and mouths filled with glowing white teeth opened around them. "I doubt anyone could get close enough to test it."

The room was suddenly back to normal, but whatever that thing was was still there. Harley could see its eyes watching her with amusement from inside Jazz's oversized cardigan.

"Well, I guess this really was a wasted trip. You've clearly got it covered."

"Not entirely." Jazz said, her hand wend up to her neck to rub nervously, "Well, you see... I don't really have a lot of friends. People tend to get - uh, creeped out, you know? Or chased off by my parents or brother or whatever..."

"You wanna be friends?" Harley laughed so hard she almost fell over.

Jazz's face turned bright red and the shadow eyes looked way less amused. "Yeah, stupid question. You've clearly got your own things going on."

"No! No, no." Harley had to take several deep breaths before she could look Jazz in the face again. "I 100% wanna hang out with you!"

"Really?"

"Oh yeah." She took another deep breath, "I mean, I really should have made a support system before trying to take on the Joker back when I worked for Arkham. This" she pointed between them "can only end well."

Jazz's face turned brighter than the sun. "Oh my gosh! This is amazing! We should - I have Thursday's and weekends off - What - what kind of things should we-"

Oh man, Jazz was like an excited kid. She must have had a really lonely childhood... they can psychoanalyze each other later. "Come over for girl's night next week. I'll tell my gf and bff to expect an extra person... Does the-" she motioned to the cardigan creature "-go everywhere you go? Does it need food?"

"Oh, don't worry about Jet, they only eat who I tell them to."

Harley barked out more laughter. "You're going to fit right in!"

---

Now featuring a Part 2

[loycos]

this season we got to see a whole new side to caitlyn's fighting: close counters. something that she used to be so, SO terrible at.

This season, not only did we see her physically fighting twice, but she also went against the 2 most badass fucking terrifying butches on the show: Sevika and Ambessa. and in both times, she WON.

how does that make any sense? is she now an amazing crazy brawler who can kick anyone's ass??? hardly. of course there are factors at play that helped her achieve this other than raw strength (the hextech malfunction and mel's magic, respectively). but just how the hell did she even hold on her own in physical fights with these beasts of women without them literally flattening her in less that 5 seconds?

that's where a whole side of Caitlyn that i don't see discussed often comes in: respect. or at least, lack thereof. Caitlyn is one of the least respected characters in the show, by other characters. i've addressed it in a post before with Jinx, who doesn't want to acknowledge Caitlyn as a human, for many reasons, but it can definitely come across as disrespect. we saw it with Salo on 2 different occasions. Singed did not give a fuck about Caitlyn's threats and basically called her an impatient baby. she is referred to as a "child" or a "girl" more than fucking Isha. if we go back to season 1, seems like her own parents struggled seeing her as an adult that can make her own choices. her coworkers make fun of her dedication. Marcus thought she was an entitled brat. when they first met, VI didn't respect Caitlyn at ALL.

the 3 characters who know Caitlyn and respect her are: Vi, Jayce, and Mel. that's so fucking sad. Caitlyn wants to be acknowledged for who she is and her capabilities, yet she has to fight harder for it than anyone else around, despite her privilege. or maybe because of it. notice how it's something Maddie preys on: "Piltover looks up to you. i look up to you". she knows Caitlyn desperately wants be taken seriously.

back to fighting: if you notice, Sevika and Ambessa are doing the exact same thing here.

during their fight, Sevika looked like she was mostly just pushing Caitlyn around, trying to hold her off, while Cailtyn was fighting for her life.

we know how ruthless Sevika can be when she actually puts effort into fighting, but in this case it looks like she was playing with her food for just a little too long, and then the hextech weapons started freaking out. and that cost her the fight.

with Ambessa it's even clearer. yes, in a way she sees Caitlyn almost like a surrogate daughter, but does she? notice how she calls Mel by her name. she addresses Caitlyn as "child", and she's not even HER child. it's belittling. Ambessa mostly tries to mold her, and she clearly did not expect Caitlyn to be intelligent enough to pick up on it.

the whole fight in episode 9. Ambessa letting the mole she planted in Caitlyn's bed to execute her? not even doing it herself? disrespect. mocking her for being desperate? disrespect.

when they actually fight, Ambessa shows the exact same symptoms Sevika did. maybe its a Noxian ritual or something, to torture your victim before u publicly execute them, but in certain points in the fight she couldve had Caitlyn killed and just chose not to. it's especially noticeable after she gauges Caitlyn's eye, and Caitlyn rests defenseless on the floor, bleeding on 2 fronts. what does Ambessa say? "you fought well, child." if that's not the disrespect of the century i don't know what is. and AGAIN, this cost Ambessa the fight. and her life, in this case.

the saddest part of it all is that Caitlyn is the character that shows respect the most, to almost everyone she meets. regardless of how they treat her.