#in reality I imagine his hair the length of the second photo

[ufofrommarss]

His hair gets longer every time I draw him…..

[trentaafcsblog]

Ménage À Trois

Mason Mount & Ben Chilwell

You’re smirking at yourself in the mirror as you stand and admire your body. A burgundy lace lingerie set just about covering the parts that you want it to, although there’s still enough skin poking through the gaps in the material to make it even more sexy than it already is. You’re turning to the side slightly to catch a glimpse of your ass, smirking at how good it looks thanks to the style of thong that you’re wearing, the waistband resting perfectly on the tops of your hips and simultaneously accentuating your curves in the most incredible way. Your boobs look fucking insane too. Both of them spilling out over the top of your bra and jiggling with each movement, yet there’s still enough held in cups to allow your nipples to poke through the lace and offer a glimpse of what’s hiding underneath to any prying eyes. 

You’re combing your fingers through your blow-dried curls once you’ve finished adjusting your underwear. Letting them be dragged down with the movement of your hands before they’re springing back up again, taking a more natural appearance the more you play around with them. Applying a thin layer of lip gloss to your pouted lips before you’re going in for several more coats, quickly realising that one isn’t going to be enough if your mouth will be working in the ways that you’d suggested in your little group chat of three, adding layer upon layer in the hope that your lips are still glossy by the end of tonight, although you’re still not convinced. You’re adding a couple more coats of waterproof mascara too, hoping that it stays on your lashes should any tears happen to escape, but your thoughts are quickly drawing to an end when the sound of tyres crunching on the gravel outside forces you out of your mind. Sprinting over to the window and clocking the familiar Range Rover pulling up on the drive - an indicator that your dream is only a few seconds away - before you’re fumbling around in the bottom draw in your wardrobe. Retrieving the tiniest little vibrator that you can find and slipping it into the crotch of your panties, hitting the ‘on’ button and letting it hum against your clit before you’re racing back across the room to grab your silk robe. Tying it around your body and taking a deep breath before making your way down the stairs, the knocks from your guests greeting you just as your foot hits the bottom step.

“Afternoon” you smile, a strand of hair being curled around your index finger as you lean against the door frame and look your guests up and down. “You okay, boys?” you ask as they both nod their heads in unison, their eyes fixated on your tits which suddenly become much more visible thanks to a gust of wind from outside, the thin material of your robe blowing up to reveal more of your skin.

“Did you just come to stare at me?” you’re questioning after a few seconds, your words snapping them both out of their trance and causing them to almost fight over who gets through the front door first as they barge their way in. Ben reaching you before Mason does as he crouches down in front of you and throws your body over his shoulder, leaving Mason to follow you both back up the stairs whilst you make a ‘grabby hands’ motion in his direction. Letting out a little giggle when he picks up on the faint buzzing feeling that’s penetrating the material of his t-shirt thanks to the way that your legs are crossed over him, pushing your vibrator down into his skin and giving him an insight into the kind of girl you are, not that he needs any hints.

You’re sitting yourself down on the edge of your bed once you’ve made it to your room. Watching the boys strip off as they throw their clothes around the room in an attempt to get undressed and ready for what’s to come as quickly as possible. Boxers, socks and joggers littering the carpet and revealing what was hidden underneath, their tanned bodies obviously sculpted by the gods and their cocks now standing to attention after a few harsh tugs, helped by the sight of you squeezing your tits before them. 

“What you gonna do to me then…daddies?” you giggle, emphasising the plural of the nickname as you shuffle backwards slightly and spread your legs. Pushing your thong to the side and letting your breath hitch at the slight icy sensation that your fingertips bring when they start tracing along your folds. Two of them threatening to dip into your hole as you look up at Mase and Ben with the most lust-filled eyes, begging them to talk dirty so that you can get an insight into their not-so-innocent minds.

And god, they’re not disappointing. Reeling off a whole list of filthy scenarios that elicit a bead of pre-cum to run out of the slit in their cocks each time they imagine their thoughts with the person sat before them. Your pussy on the verge of exploding as you sit and stroke your fingers up and down it in time with the boys’ voices, occasionally pumping two digits inside when they make reference to the box of sex toys that you’ve left out on your bedside table for them to use, whining and moaning as you watch them poke around and admire the extra additions to the bedroom. 

“I think that’s enough time wasted, don’t you, ya horny little slut” Mase growls as he takes a step towards you, clearly having enough of seeing you getting yourself off to his and Ben’s thoughts as he bats your hand away from your pussy and pulls your legs so that you slide closer to him. Letting go when you’re almost hanging off the bed and instructing you to get on all fours for him as he stands before you, his cock twitching in anticipation before you’re reaching out with one hand and gently cupping his balls. Looking up at him as he nudges Ben and encourages him to get behind you, a squeal escaping your mouth when your panties get ripped away from your body and a harsh slap hits your ass cheek.

“You’re not stopping ‘til I say so” Mason’s telling you as you just about manage to nod your head before Ben’s tongue starts licking a hot stripe along your core, the heat from his mouth eliciting a little whimper which Mase quickly puts an end to when he thrusts forward and completely fills your mouth with his cock. The tip hitting the back of your throat and causing tears to spring to your eyes as you start bobbing your head up and down in order to try and relieve the burning sensation in your throat. The stimulation at both ends of your body causing a series of moans to escape around Mason’s shaft, a feeling that just turns him on more than ever because he knows that he’s not the one making you feel that way, as he watches you slowly start to rock your hips back and forth against Ben’s face. His hands coming up to grip onto the sides of your body as he laps away at your arousal, making a series of slurping noises as he swallows your sweet juices, a contrast to the saltiness that’s coating your tongue as you swirl it around the head of Mason’s cock. His pre-cum seeping into your mouth and mixing with your saliva before you’re breaking the suction for a second to spit the little concoction back onto his swollen head, watching it dribble down the rest of his length before you’re going back in and making this the sloppiest blowjob of his life. Spit dribbling down your chin and making its way through the canal between your boobs, some of it travelling as far as your nipples as Mase stands and watches it drip off and soak into your bedsheets - a sight he could watch a million times over as he grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes you further and further down his length in an attempt to encourage the same sight. 

Mason’s practically fucking your face as you gag and splutter around him, tears trickling down your cheeks as he reaches out and captures the moment with the Polaroid camera that you’d also left out for them to use. The little photo printing itself out of the top and mirroring exactly what’s going on in front of him, letting the image replace reality as he holds it in front of you, giving himself a few seconds to admire it before your whines and whimpers cause the piece of card to slip from between his fingers and spiral onto the floor. Your orgasm approaching as you grip onto his hips to steady yourself and start grinding down against Ben’s face, desperate for a release since he’s been licking away at your core for what feels like an eternity. Pulling your mouth away from Mason’s cock to focus on what’s happening to your pussy as your eyes start rolling back into your head, a string of spit still attaching your bottom lip to the purple tip of his length, connecting the two of you in the most intimate way.

“Oh my fucking goddd” you’re whining as Ben’s lips form a suction around your clit, your orgasm building more and more with each sucking motion as you start begging him to give you what you’re dying for. The knot in your stomach on the verge of snapping just as he pulls away and denies you of that release. And you’re about to complain but he’s going back to edge you again, and then again, and then again, and fifth time lucky you’re finally cumming. Your clit palpitating against his tongue as he lays and feels you twitch against him, wanting to scream his name for the whole town to hear but Mason’s clearly got other ideas.

“Didn’t tell ya to stop, did I?” he’s saying harshly before entering your mouth again mid-orgasm. Thrusting into you and chasing his own release considering he’s now more horny than ever after seeing one of his best mates make you cum. Grunting with each thrust and getting Ben to come and watch as tears start soaking your cheeks again. Mase leaning forward to wipe them away with his thumb before he’s gripping the sides of your face and fucking your mouth at the most ridiculous speed. Your coughs and splutters egging him on as he halts against the back of your throat and releases his load, giving you no option other than to swallow as the salty fluid starts trickling down your already-stinging throat. Gulping it down with a small whimper before he’s muttering ‘good girl’ and letting you pull away to catch your breath.

“Think we should use one of these now, don’t you?” Ben’s smirking as he starts poking through the box of sex toys, pressing the buttons on a few of them to see which one looks like it will cause the most trouble once it’s in action. Settling for a pink rabbit vibrator that he then passes over to Mase for him to control with the remote, encouraging you to lay down in the middle of the bed as he gets comfy beside you. “You gonna tell her what to do, Mase?” he’s asking before attaching his lips to one of your nipples, obviously doing it on purpose because he knows you’ll hardly be able to concentrate when he’s busy sucking away at your skin.

“I’m gonna be in charge of his” he’s telling you, the tone of his voice dominating and assertive as he presses one of the buttons on the remote. Holding the vibrator up so that it’s in your line of sight and you can watch the little ears fluttering around whilst the shaft rotates in mid-air. And you’re almost cumming when you make direct eye contact with him and he pushes the tip into his mouth, soaking it with his spit before lining it up with your entrance. Holding it so that it’s just touching the outside of your hole and the vibrations are teasing you whilst he carries on giving you instructions. “And you’re gonna be wanking Ben off and telling us both all of those filthy things that go on in that dirty little mind of yours” he’s whispering, waiting for you to nod your head in response before he’s spreading your folds apart with his fingers and inserting the toy. Raising his eyebrows and signalling towards Ben as you move your hand away from your other boob and lick a stripe of saliva along your palm. Lowering it down until it’s firmly secured around Ben’s cock, and then you’re gently pumping your fist up and down. His mouth pulling away from your nipple as he moves to bury his head in the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin and littering it with tiny purple bruises. 

“Oh my god” you breathe when Mase starts fiddling around with the vibrator and attaches the bunny ears either side of your clit. Messing around with the speeds as they start pulsating against your sensitive nub, sending little waves of pleasure through your body and making your legs shake uncontrollably. You’re nearly seeing stars when he looks at you and aggressively starts pressing the ‘up’ arrow on the remote, the shaft now spiralling around inside you at the most incredible speed. The head brushing against your g-spot with each rotation and making your eyes water from the intense pleasure as you grip onto the bedsheets with your free hand. Ensuring that you keep pumping away at Ben’s cock, your hand slipping up and down his length whilst his pre-cum dribbles out of the tip and runs between your fingers. Occasionally rubbing your thumb over his swollen head, loving how he breaks away from your neck to let out a little sigh before groping your other tit even harder in response. 

“I’m not hearing your dirty thoughts” Mason’s growling as he threatens to increase the vibrations even more, his finger hovering above the set of buttons whilst he waits for you to open your mouth. 

“I wanna squirt all over your fat cock” you’re telling him as his teeth graze over his bottom lip, one hand now stroking his own dick as he lays at the end of the bed and encourages you to carry on. “Wanna see your cum dripping out of me for days after you’ve filled my little cunt up” you whimper as he quietly moans at the thought. “Such a little cum slut, aren’t ya?” he questions as you nod your head at him. “Want Ben to put a baby in me whilst I cream all over his huge cock” you’re saying as he hums against your neck, whispering ‘I’m sure I can do that, baby girl’ in your ear, just as Mase ups the speed of the toy. A combination of the pleasure to your core and Ben’s words causing you to let out the loudest moan before you start bucking your hips towards Mason who’s now nearing another orgasm after getting an insight into your filthy mind. Your hand still frantically pumping away at Ben’s length as he grunts and groans with each movement of your palm, knowing by the scrunching up of his face that he’s close as you blurt out ‘fill my mouth up’ and provide him with another insight into your ‘lady in the streets and a freak in the sheets’ demeanour. 

Sticking your tongue out for him as he gets on his knees and hovers above your mouth, tossing himself off for the last few seconds before he’s moaning at his release. Five spurts of seed landing on your tongue as you flick it over his tip to make sure that you’ve wiped away any remnants. Swirling his cum around in your mouth and humming at the saltiness before he’s leaning across you and grabbing the camera. “Open up” he’s saying as you stick your tongue out, a pool of white fluid laying on top of it as he captures the moment on a Polaroid, watching it print out of the top before he’s showing you the little photo. “Look at you, ya little whore” he’s whispering as you giggle at the photo and swirl his cum around one final time before swallowing it down and winking at him. 

Tilting your head to one side to get a glimpse at Mason as he lays there nearing his orgasm, a smirk on his face when he realises that you’re watching him. The bunny ears now fluttering against your clit at the highest speed as he tries to make the two of you reach your highs in unison. Your eyes beginning to water again when Ben pushes the end of the toy even further into your pussy, the head circling over your g-spot as you writhe around and beg for a release. “I’m gonna squirt” you squeal as Mason gets up and starts pumping himself over your pussy. His warm seed firing onto your clit with a groan of ‘fuck’, sending ripples through your body and pushing you closer to your own orgasm. A broken cry leaving your mouth as your face screws up and then relaxes again when your juices go splattering over both boys who are watching you from the end of the bed. Completely soaking their abs and upper thighs before you’re squeezing your pussy again, encouraging the same thing to happen once more. Both of them smirking at the sight as you grab the camera and take a photo from your viewpoint. The little Polaroid capturing your legs spread apart and the toy stuffed inside your pussy, with water droplets coating the cocks and torsos of the boys stood before you - a photo that immediately becomes your favourite.

Moaning when Mase pulls the toy out from in between your folds, admiring his seed on the little rabbit ears before he’s holding it in your direction and waiting for you to lick it clean. Your tongue flicking over the head as you hum at the taste of your juices, refusing to break the eye contact as you lick away at the ears and clean it of Mason’s cum. Both boys almost certain that their cocks are going to explode as they stand and watch you laying there with your legs spread apart, your entrance gaping slightly from where the toy has been buried inside of you as you suck the vibrator off. Your tongue completely ridding it of any remnants of Mason’s load before you’re sitting up and placing it back on your bedside table.

“I need you inside of me” you’re saying to Ben as you reach out towards him. “I’m empty...please” you pout as you give him your best puppy dog eyes. Although it hardly takes any begging for him to give you what you want. “Get on all fours then” he instructs as he helps you get into position, Mason coming around to the head of the bed and sitting opposite you as his palm starts stroking his cock once more. Cupping your face with his free hand and letting his tongue explore your mouth, fighting with yours whilst Ben gets to work at the other end. Letting out a small grunt when he spreads your ass cheeks apart to get a better view of your pussy, your arousal coating your inner thighs with a dampened glow as he begins to smirk at the sight. Biting down on Mason’s bottom lip when you feel Ben pushing himself into your tight little hole, whimpering as your walls begin to dilate around him and you can feel every single inch of his length. 

“Fuck” you’re breathing when he starts pounding into you, your ass bouncing against his abs with each thrust as he secures a firm grip on each cheek. Squeezing and slapping away at you and feeling a sense of pride when he sees a red outline of his hand starting to appear on your skin, knowing full well that you’re not going to be able to sit down for the next few days. Whimpering when Mase breaks the kiss to spit a bead of saliva onto the tip of his cock, trying to lean forward to continue exploring his mouth but he’s shuffling back to stop you. “Gotta tell daddy what you want him to do, it’s my turn next” he’s saying as you groan in desperation, dying to just have his lips pressed against yours for an extra second but instead he’s laying in front of you, tossing himself off and expecting you to talk dirty to him. 

“Just want you to coat my walls with your thick cum” you cry as Ben slaps your ass once more. “Want you to stuff me full of your cum and make my pussy all swollen” you tell him as Ben looks down and admires the ring of cream that’s forming at the base of his cock. Grunting at the sight of your pearlescent liquid as he scoops a bit up with his finger and makes Mason try it in front of you. “So fucking sweet for us, ain’t ya?” he hums as he moves the cream around his mouth with his tongue, spreading it around before swallowing and throwing his head back at the taste. Looking over your shoulder to see Ben with two fingers in his mouth, sucking your treat for him off his digits and winking at you when he sees you watching. “Fucking delicious” he’s saying before spanking you once again, his thumbs now digging into your hips as he grips onto you for dear life. Telling you to look back at Mason as he starts driving into you at the most ridiculous speed, your eyes disappearing into the back of your head and your tits swinging to and fro with each movement.

“Look at daddy” Mason’s whispering as you force yourself to stare into his eyes, whining when he leans forward and cups your boobs in his hands, gently squeezing and massaging them whilst his best mate fucks you from behind. “That nice?” he’s asking as you nod your head in response. “Need to use your words, baby, tell daddy how nice that feels” he’s saying as you do your best to string an audible sentence together. “I-I jus- uggghhh fuck, so fucking go- gooddd” you scream as he starts rolling your nipples between his thumb and index finger, smiling when they harden under his touch and your arms almost give way beneath you. 

“I’m gonna cum” Ben’s mumbling before drilling into you even faster, if that’s even possible. A small whimper escaping your mouth when you feel him still inside of you and the warmth of his seed shoots up your walls. Hardly giving you any chance to enjoy the feeling as he pulls out of you, the tip of his cock making a satisfying ‘pop’ noise as it’s forced out of your tight little entrance and your walls break the suction around it. “Your go, bro” he’s panting as he crawls up beside you to swap places with Mase, smirking at you before gripping onto your tits, his fingers moulding into the pink outline that Mason’s hands have left behind. Struggling to know where to focus your attention as Ben starts kneading away at your boobs, his cock standing proud before you with a little dribble of cum trailing down the shaft. 

And then Mason’s slamming into you from behind as well. Eliciting a squeal when his first thrust hits your g-spot and sends a ripple of pleasure through your whole body. Your eyes disappearing into the back of your head once again as he fucks you absolutely senseless, your lips parted and breathing heavy when he takes one hand away from your hip to draw figure-of-eights on your clit. Your core practically going numb from overstimulation but the warmth of his fingers is still somehow driving you on towards your third orgasm. Your walls clenching uncontrollably around him which of course edges him closer and closer to his own release. The wetness of your pussy mixing with the pool of Ben cum that’s stuffed deep inside your cunt sounding like music to his ears as he pounds into you, the thought of fucking you whilst you’re full of another man’s seed turning him on more than ever.

“Please Mase!” you’re screaming, lifting one hand off the mattress and almost collapsing beneath him from how hard he’s fucking you. Ben stepping in to support your upper body as his hands mould into the gap under your armpits, conveniently meaning that he’s now nose to nose with you and has no option other than to kiss your swollen lips. Your free hand reaching around for Mason’s as you hold his fingers in place, knowing that it would probably kill you if he was to stop playing with your pussy, especially since you can feel that all too familiar knot starting to tighten in your tummy. 

“I’m gonna cum” you’re crying, breaking Ben’s kiss as he removes one hand from under your arm and grips it around your throat instead, preventing you from moving. And fuck does he almost orgasm himself when you let out a gravelly moan into his mouth, tears threatening to escape your eyes as the pleasure in your core builds and builds. A rush of intense relief surging through your pussy when the knot inside of you eventually snaps, your walls spasming around Mason’s length as he continues frantically rubbing your clit, a second wave of pleasure hitting you when he brings you to another orgasm. “Oh my goddd” you’re screaming, your limbs turning to jelly as you fall face-down on the mattress, your body now in the speed bump position and giving Mase an even better run at chasing his own release.

“So fucking good” he’s grunting before emptying his third load inside of you, filling your pussy to the brim with his pearlescent fluid and ensuring that he holds himself still for a few seconds in order to allow his and Ben’s seeds to mix. And then he’s pulling out and it’s probably the hottest experience of all three of your lives. The Polaroid camera coming in handy once again as it captures the moment that the stream of cum starts making its way back out of your cunt, the photo printing out of the top and encouraging Ben to move from before you in order to watch this moment in the flesh. A series of whines and whimpers leaving your mouth when it runs over your clit, causing it to twitch in response to the warmth that’s spreading across your core and down either side of your thighs. 

“Look at ya” Ben’s whispering, his voice being eaten by the overwhelming sense of pride that washes over him when he looks at your collapsed body, your ass still in the air and him and his best mate’s cum-concoction pooling out of your pussy - a sight that he’ll never get bored of. “You alright?” Mason’s asking once you’ve finally found the strength to roll over onto your back, your thighs glued together with the boys’ seed and only adding to the difficulty of moving with the most tired muscles and swollen pussy. “Mhm” you’re breathing, your lust-clouded brain stopping the connection between your thoughts and what leaves your mouth, giving up on trying to string a sentence together and just leaving them with a quiet mumble, enough to confirm that you’re okay, even if your weakened physical state suggests otherwise.

“One last thing” Ben’s saying as Mason comes and lays beside you, his arm draped beneath your boobs and his free hand brushing the loose curls away from your face. “Gotta clean yourself up” he’s adding, gently scooping up the trails of cum from the insides of your thighs with two fingers before extending them in your direction. Your mouth involuntarily opening and your eyes fluttering shut as the overwhelming saltiness spreads across your tongue, carefully swiping it over his fingers before he’s going back down and coating his digits with even more. Careful not to touch your semi-numb pussy too harshly because your overstimulation is evident, but he’s ensuring that every last drop is cleaned from your cunt before he’s allowing himself to settle down on your free side. 

“You did so well” Ben’s complimenting, his eyes scanning over your tired body before he’s leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead, a gesture that you appreciate considering that you’re in absolute bits right now. “So did you” you’re breathing, although it hardly takes a genius to pick up on how incredible the boys were tonight going by your handprint-littered skin, tear-stained cheeks and slightly bruised lips. “Can’t believe we finally got round to doing it” Mason’s panting, the suggestion bobbing around in your group chat of three for what felt like an eternity before you finally caved and invited them over. “Good things come to those who wait” you’re smirking, your comment possibly being the biggest understatement of the year going by tonight’s activities, but it’s true, and you’re glad that you gave yourself the time to let the anticipation build up before today.

“We better head off cose we’ve got training at half eight tomorrow” Ben’s saying, eliciting a groan from Mason who genuinely can’t think of anything more anticlimactic after a night of pure bliss. “Sure you’ll be alright if we go?” he’s asking, getting his answer when you nod your head and let it fall to one side, the dark hue beneath your eyes letting them both know that you’ll be crashed out as soon as they’ve closed your front door behind them. “Thanks for tonight” you’re whispering, Ben sitting up beside you but you’re pulling him back down for a kiss, your lips lingering on his for a few seconds before you’re replacing them with Mason’s. Quietly humming at the warmth that they bring to your pink and slightly swollen lips, holding him there for a bit of added comfort before you’re reluctantly pulling away. 

“Text me when you’re back, yeah?” you’re saying, watching them both agree to your question before they’re leaving you spread out on the bed to get dressed. Giggling to yourself as they poke around each other’s discarded underwear in an attempt to find their own, re-dressing themselves with the outfits that left their bodies in just a matter of seconds a couple of hours ago, this time with the addition of a few extra creases from where they’ve been neglected on the floor.

And then the front door is closing behind them. The ring echoing in your ears for a few seconds before it’s being replaced with their footsteps crunching along the gravel as they make their way back to the blacked-out Range Rover parked in the corner of your driveway. Waiting until the engine starts rumbling and the headlights fade away into the darkness of the night until you’re deciding to move. Rolling over ready to turn the lights off but you’re spotting several pieces of card laying face-down on your carpet, and you know exactly what they are before you’ve even had chance to pick them up. A tiny whimper falling from your lips as you turn them over to reveal the photos that you’ve taken tonight - all of them managing to take you right back to the second that the camera clicked and you felt a rush of adrenaline at how risky you were being taking such explicit pictures. Your eyes studying them for a few seconds before you’re retrieving your phone from your beside table and taking a photo of the Polaroid with your cream-pied pussy on display. Hitting ‘send’ and watching it arrive back in the group chat that kick-started it all. Your fingers reaching up to flick the light switch which triggers your eyes to flutter shut, the memories of tonight flooding your mind as you drift off to sleep.

Until next time, boys ;) x

[feelin-woozy]

Title: Stoke The Fire

Word Count: 1984

Pairing: Bo Sinclair x female!reader

Warnings: Daddy kink, breeding, degradation, dumbification

Thanks @slasherrabbitmadness for the inspiration and the absolute brain rot that she has given me with the idea of dilf!Bo :) go check out her dilf Bo stuff because it's,,, chefs kiss.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to spend time over at Bo’s house; it became almost like a second home over the years. Your father and Bo have a relationship that bloomed from the moment they entered business together a few years back. It wasn’t easy to imagine what life was like before Bo became so close to your family.

A warm summer breeze blows past you, ruffling the soft saffron colored cotton of your dress against your thighs. Of course, you don’t miss the way Bo’s blue eyes dart to the newly exposed flesh of your thigh, but beyond that, he doesn’t make a move, just sips the beer in his hand and takes another easy drag off the cigarette.

Your dad is prattling on about this and that, talking about some jackoff who tried to rip him off the other day at work claiming that his rate was ludacris and that there were a dozen other mechanics that could do it for cheaper. And sure, that may have been true, but the quality wasn’t there. It wasn’t biased, perhaps a little, but it was still a well known fact that your dad and Bo ran the best mechanic shop in town; it’s why they got away with the rates they charged. And there was always a sense of taking care of the community, their community, that had the townsfolk whipped and willing to shell out the money.

The lively strumming of guitars swirled around you, and you bounced your leg to the steady beat of the Seether song that played over the speakers. It was heavier than the usual stuff that your dad played around the house, but then there were many things about Bo that were heavier. Perhaps that’s why they worked so well together.

Your attention is drawn away from the melodic beat and easy going conversation between Bo and your dad when a small hand tugs at the hem of your dress. You turn your head to look down at the young girl, blue eyes staring up at you with a smile that lacked a few teeth. You return the smile to her, waiting for her to speak and voice whatever thoughts swirled around in that head of hers.

You had nearly forgotten that Oliva was here with the three of you. Bo’s time with her split with his ex-girlfriend, who he had some choice words about every time she was brought up. The young girl was undeniably Bo’s child through unruly brown hair bouncing with every shift she made and blue eyes that were carbon copies of her father’s. You couldn’t help but wonder what she got from her mother; Bo didn’t have any photos of her around the house.

“Will you come play with me?” She reaches for your hands, her skin slightly sticky from God knows what, but you don’t pull away; you just give her hand a small squeeze in return.

“Olive, sweetie, don’t bug her. Go play by yourself okay?” Bo says softly, a sort of sternness shining through his words. You lift your gaze to look at Bo, and you catch a glimpse of fondness that softens the lines of his face. Olivia whines, eyebrows furrowing as if she’s about to pitch a fit at Bo’s words.

“It’s okay Bo,” You smile at him, wide and radiant as you get to your feet without letting go of Olivia’s hand. “I don’t mind.”

Bo just nods his head with a bit of a shrug before turning his attention to your dad again. However, you don’t miss the way his eyes surveil you as Olivia drags you to the small backyard park that Bo and your dad had built together the previous summer.

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

It’s almost two weeks later when you find yourself bent over the laminate countertop, hands scrambling for purchase as you’re pushed forward again and again. You hadn’t even been here for five minutes, coming by only to grab some tools for your dad to borrow, wearing that same saffron dyed dress you had worn last time that you were over here. Bo’s worn trucker hat lost to the linoleum, jeans pushed only half way down his thighs, leaving his belt to jangle incessantly with every movement. The edge of the countertop digs into your hip bones saved only for the dress that’s bunched up over the curve of your ass. It does little to pad and protect you against the vicious rocking of Bo’s hips, but it’s better than nothing.

“Been thinkin’ about this sweet pussy every fuckin’ day,” Bo groans, grimey fingers curling into your hips and dragging you back against himself. He stays put for a moment, keeping your bodies pressed flushed together. “Been thinkin’ about knocking you up.”

The way your pussy flutters around his length is indecorous, the whimper you let out even more so. But it can’t be helped; hearing the filth that dripped from Bo’s lips always had that effect on you, but there was something about the way he said it that made your insides churn. The serious edge to his words that wasn’t there the times you had fucked prior, the way his words turned from a pipe dream to something that could be a reality.

“Does my baby like that idea?” Bo titters, the noise breathless and broken. A testament to the effect that this was having on him as well. “Like the thought of me fuckin’ a baby into you?”

“Fuck, Bo.” Your head drops, cheeks pressing into the chilled countertop. You don’t even pretend like this wasn’t doing it for you, hips rocking back against his to tempt him into staying true to your word. “Yeah, yeah fuck.”

He leans over you, the thin cotton t-shirt dragging along your sweat-slicked back as he pressed his lips to your neck, teeth catching the rosy skin. For a moment, you think that he was about to leave a mark to bloom against your skin, a small sign over ownership that would have you avoiding your parents’ home till the skin healed, and you could look them in the eyes once more.

“Gunna have to get you off that birth control of yours,” Bo murmurs, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek before he pulls away again, looming over you and admiring the way he has you splayed out like a wrecked mess in his kitchen. The windows open, and the back sliding door cracked so neighbors would be able to hear every little indecent noise that passed your lips like a mantra. You were glad for the arborvitae that lined the fence. It gave you some privacy, even if it wasn’t much, and it did ease your nerves considerably. “After that, maybe I’ll just keep you on my cock day ‘n night till I know it took.”

Your hands curl into fists at the thought, knuckles blanching under the force. The idea has your mind melting; nothing has ever sounded so perfect to you. It was almost insane how easily Bo got you cockdrunk, how easily he bent you to every whim that crossed his mind. But there was something about his smile, his scent, the way he could play you as if the two of you were made for each other that left you a strung out fanatic.

“Tell me how badly you want it,” Bo growls, nails cutting crescent shaped moons into your hips. If he wasn’t dragging you so perfectly through the trenches of pleasures, the pain might have brought you from the lust addled fog, but instead, it only shoves you down further. It made you feel like you were drowning, drowning in his words, the scent of sex that hung headily around you, the obscene noises that sounded like your own but were so far away, the way skin slapped against each other and the wet noises of your pussy dripping around his thick cock. It was all too much, and you knew it would only be a matter of time before your orgasm swept you pitilessly under the current. “Come on baby, if you wanna cum you gotta tell Daddy how badly you want it.”

A sob tears through your chest, thighs shaking as you’re forced onto the points of your toes with each thrust. Bo laughs above you cruelly, not once slowing down and allowing you a moment of reprieve to find your words. There was a satisfaction in seeing the way he strung you along, bringing you so close to the edge, and you knew that if you didn’t give in, give him what he wanted, he would pull away.

It wouldn’t have been the first time. There had been many times he’d pull out only to jerk himself off to completion and paint your pussy, or your panties, only to force you to wear his cum as a reminder. So you try with a renewed desperation, to try and formulate anything of sense before Bo had the chance to pull out of you.

“I-I fuck,” You stutter, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Every time the words were cocked and loaded on your tongue, the way he brushed against that spot within you had them rolling off your tongue in the form of drool. If it didn’t feel so fucking good, it would’ve been beyond humiliating.

“You look fuckin’ pathetic like this,” Bo sneers, hips stuttering. You knew he was close, his words coming out a sharp rasp as each thrust was punctuated with a guttural growl. “Just an empty headed slut made to be knocked up. S’okay baby, Daddy will take care of you.”

That’s what sends you over the edge, cunt clenching down like a vice around the cock plowing into you. It must have been good because you’re distantly aware of the sound of Bo choking on a noise within his throat. And God, do you wish that you were more aware and not floating listlessly through the waves of pleasure so you could see just how wrecked Bo was. You wanted to acknowledge the way graying brown hair clung to his forehead, cheeks flushed as he gritted his teeth. It was always one of your favorite sights. A low moan tumbles from the two of you at the feeling of warmth filling you, the gentle pulsing of his cock as he empties himself within you.

The two of you remained like that for a moment, and you silently wished it would never end as you tried to quell your racing heart and the rapid movement of your chest. Then, when Bo begins to pull out, you whine, but he only snickers, fingers moving from your hips to dance along your folds, running through the slick and cum that dripped out.

“Ya mean it?” You whine softly, pressing back as he pushes cum back inside of you.

“Mean what, baby?” Bo muses, fingers moving at a taunting pace. You crane your neck a bit to stare up at Bo, catching the post sex bliss that overlays his face, the smug look that only makes your stomach twist, thighs clenching.

“Are you going to knock me up?” Your tongue flicks out over your lower lip, eyes fluttering at the feeling of his thick fingers stretching you open once more. Bo groans low in his throat at the thought, and you peek your eye open to catch sight of the twisted grin on his face and the dark intent that swirled within blue eyes.

“Course I am,” Bo says matter of factly as he pulls his fingers out of you, reaching down to grab the lace panties you wore and pull them back up over you. With a pat on your ass, he begins to tuck himself back into his pants, walking over to the fridge. “Would be a shame to let that pretty pussy a’ yours to go to waste.”

[littlefreya]

Penny Dreadful

Summary: Sherlock is cold, troubled and upset, his mind is fixed on cracking an unsolved murder. It’s the worst time to disturb him. But his hot-blooded little succubus wants to drag him into sin.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x OFC (First-person POV)

Word count: 2.5K

Warning: 18+, smut, teasing, bratty behaviour, ass-smacking with a cane, slight cane play, primal play, unprotected rough sex, biting, slight size kink, MaleDom, drug use. Lots of curly hair descriptions.

A/N: Not canon to books Sherlock, obviously, but seeing the photos and teaser Henry as Sherlock just sets up the vibe. So I had to. Many thanks to my beta @agniavateira​ !! Sorry for the ugly cover art :D.

Title: Penny Dreadful

Sherlock’s study was a bleak, musky chamber deprived of heat, notwithstanding the many candles that burnt at every corner. Perhaps it was the pristine heaps of snow that piled on the ledge of the window, or maybe it was his sullen mood that gave the room a sense of icy wilderness. 

Fumes rose from his mouth, vaping into the air. The tawny light kissed his thick mane of luscious, chocolate curls while he stood at the fore of his desk and leered at some parchments that troubled his brilliant mind for whatever reason. 

Fist seizing the golden tip of his cane, his thumb stroked the engravings that embellished the metal. Cases that he couldn’t crack often left him frustrated to the point of madness. Those wicked, sly obsessions made him even more irresistible.  

My nails bit into the wooden doorframe. Consumed by yearning, a blaze licked up my soul with its monstrous tongue. I often wondered how something so pure as love could be dangerous, to which Sherlock would reply, 

“Love is the greatest villain of them all.”

Unlike him, I didn’t care for evil. 

The detective unclipped the small chain he kept fastened to his vest and opened the silver locket, gathering a wisp of white powder on the tip of his pinky finger and pressed it to his nostrils. A small grunt escaped him, his eyes turning glassy. The “fairy dust” tended to sharpen his perception and elevate his stamina.  

I dropped to my knees at his sight, crawling on the floor. The black silks of my dress made a brushing noise as it dragged on the Persian carpet; my breasts peeked as my corset shifted with every move. Sherlock often said we must imagine ourselves as animals once we let desire play our strings. 

Accepting my inner wildness, tonight I was a cougar stalking her prey. 

By nature, his senses were sharp as blades, though the substance that streamed through his veins made a more heightened grip of the reality that surrounded him. He noticed and yet ignored me, letting his hot-blooded harlot crave for his attention.

If I was to be the feline predator, Sherlock was the hunter who pursued me for sport. An unfair game, yet nevertheless my favourite. 

Bathing in my own little fountain of mischief, I allowed my fingers to sneak toward his cane, brushing up and down the mahogany in slow, languid motion. My slender digits licked along the shaft and my bosom followed, pressing against the hardwood. I dragged myself up slightly to glimpse at my master from below: my Sherlock, always a sight for a famished girl; a colossus, intimidating, and breathtaking. Like a moth to a flame, I inched closer dazed by the light, wanting to bask in its radiance. 

The muscle in his cheek tensed, thick brows furrowing. A little squared wrinkle appeared above the bridge of his nose as he brushed through his dark locks with agitation.

“What ills that glorious mind of yours?” I hummed, playful fingertips climbing further up at the length of his cane.

“Something I can’t grasp,” he spat, not giving me the time of day. But I knew he noticed every detail of my wanton behaviour, it was evident by the way his breath swiftly became heavier. Sherlock might have solved crimes by profession, but all women were natural detectives; evolution granted us with a definite survival instinct, learning to read men between the shadows.  

“You can possess me,” I offered, fingers scraping over his thumb as it pressed onto the cane’s golden tip. My voice dropped to a whisper while my hand left the cane in favour of his thigh. The muscle flexed and twitched under my sinful touch, the fabric of his breeches stretched as his cock grew with its natural need to fulfil the wet, convulsing void in me.

“You’re distracting me,” he warned, voice low and stern. His lashes hardly even fluttered to my direction. 

Every delicate little hair stood up at the sound of alarm yet instead, I inhaled the soot of peril, allowing my hand to travel further and meet his hungry girth. It rose to my touch with gratitude, flinching even harder at the clutch of my claws. The flavour of desire was honey and salt on the tip of my tongue.

The low animalistic vibration of his voice wavered through his solid form. I felt it shudder all the way down to his swelling cock. A cautious man, Sherlock was measured and forbearing to a point that made me wonder if he even liked women at all before we fell into the vicious pit of decadence and violent delights. 

It was the contrary that was true: Sherlock loved women very much, his desires were simply… of a certain quality. 

His groin was warm and firm against my cheek. The crystalline-blue glare finally graced me with a sight so brooding my bones clattered.  

“Later, I need to work.” By the drop of his voice, I knew there won’t be a third warning. 

“Later, Later…” I taunted, rolling my chin over his aching need. “All work and no play…”

The gasp that pushed out of my lungs nearly whisked the candles off as Sherlock hauled me up by his hand and bent me over the desk.  

“Should I teach you how to respect my time?” He snarled, throwing the skirts of my dress over my head like a cape of the midnight sky. Stars collapsed under my skin at the sensation of his touch exploring the curve of my bare ass. Talons ruptured the tiny blood vessels, squeezing with the affirmation of his ownership. 

“No undergarments?” Sherlock growled dangerously while his thumb brushed over my silken entrance, toying with the rich elixir and smearing it further down my anticipating petals. I answered with a deep moan, stretching on this desk with a succumbing plea. 

“You came here aimed at disturbing me while I work.”

Settling onto the surface of the desk, I reached forth one arm lazily and chuckled. “You are a great detective, I… oh!” 

Something cold and solid caressed my dripping lips, driving between them in slow, calculated strokes. Throwing my head over my shoulder, I noticed Sherlock holding his cane against my sacred cove, staring at it as if I was yet another piece of evidence to be explored. The golden arched-tip pushed-slightly between my petals and entered just enough to make me hiss. For a mere second I wondered if he was going to fuck me using nothing but his cane.

“Look away; this is going to hurt.” 

I hardly had time to protest when the first smack hit the pillow of my cheek. A wheeze of disgrace shot from my throat, husky and embarrassing, but not as degrading as the sting the metal left at my burning backside.

“Bad girl,” Sherlock ticked his tongue and lifted the cane midway in the air, a flare of noxious desire bursting in his pale-blue orbs. This time I turned away and shut my eyes, gripping the edge of the desk until my knuckles turned dead-white. If only it did anything to dull the pain, the sting was even more prominent, shooting all the way up to my spine where it coiled and forced a strident yip from my clamped lips. 

Yet the throb in my cunt was unmissable.

Sherlock knew very well that the hurt allied with pleasure, enhancing it even, like his powdery magic dust. 

Another smack and my nails scratched at the wood. Like a sinner nun indulging her own beating, I rode the waves of pain as they broke onto shores abundant with pleasure. There were hidden cracks in our public figure, the place where I burnt and Sherlock ascended as we pried our claws into mortal deadly sins. My senses rose to conflict with every smack and Sherlock took joy in every involuntary squirm of my body. 

Tongue pressed between his lips, he hummed as he admired his handiwork, painting my ass in obscene hues of violence. “Had enough? Or want to see which will break first, the rod or your arrogance?” Sherlock chided and pinched my sore cheek to further increase the pain. 

Embers whispered beneath my flesh, my legs jolted from the intense beating and by god, the trickle of my juices rolling down the back of my thighs made even a sultry woman such as myself drown in white shame.

Sherlock’s breath was a heavy guttural waft. His cane dropped to the floor and I heard the sound of metal clicking as he fumbled with his belt. I would be damned if I let him fuck me from behind. To have those eyes look away as he entered me was a vice I wouldn’t stand. 

“No!” I yelled, bracing on my wobbly elbows as much as I could and turned to face him. 

Sherlock’s glare widened, a chill of ice blew through his eyes and his pupils dilated like a crazed feline. “You’re saying no to me?”

“Yes!” I heaved and reached my hands to cradle his skull, pushing myself against the hardness of his body and forcing my lips on his. My kiss was feral, bruising the plush skin on and around his mouth, nibbling and biting until we tasted iron on our tongues. It was not long before I was shoved against the wall, our mouths still united, sharing one breath.

Or rather stealing it from one another.

We were pleasingly unequal. Sherlock was all iron and stone; a bulky, tall man who could tear me apart with his bare hands. I was a little lush thing, so tender, so easily bruised. Despite his power, the desire to claim the tiny wet hole between my legs was unquenchable, reducing him to a savage thing that spoke in raw inarticulate sounds.

He tore his mouth from mine and swept me up from the ground, hiking the skirts of my dress urgently to expose what he coveted the most. I felt the supple velvety texture of his hardness grind against my thigh, smearing the pearly drops of his arousal onto my skin. We both moaned at the sensation and moved to the rhythm dictated by our most primal instincts.  

“You want my cock?” He growled and gnawed his teeth at my neck, biting deep enough to break through the skin. I whined in pain, my voice rising a pitch as I writhed against him to ignite the smallest of frictions and serve the demon of desire in me. 

“Fuck me!” I begged, sliding my fingers through the mass of soft curls and tugging them with need.

Answering my plea, Sherlock speared into my unruly cunt, brutally spreading me open like he would tear the petals from a flower. I yipped into his luscious hair, my nails tearing into his nape as his intrusion claimed everything my body had to offer. I always found it odd how my flesh would resist and beg for him at the same time, my succulent canal fighting to push him by instinct yet he only further rutted into me. He reached his hands to my sore ass to squeeze my cheeks apart.

“Such a tight little harlot,” he groaned, engulfed by my garden of mysteries. Moaning so loudly, our duet reverberated through the corridors of the house. His lashes fluttered with ecstasy as he pulled back only to force me down on his imposing cock, attempting to rip through my denial. Or it was to tame me as I clenched around his girth, accepting and resisting him at the same time. I was nothing but a vessel for him to fill, and he did so with a fiery passion, glaring straight to my eyes while thrusting deep and hard into me.  

Books fell from the shelves nearby as we battled against the wall, my legs sliding up and down his waist, spreading helplessly in the air until my boots pressed into his arse. One of his hands reached for my corset, tugging on the ludicrous outfit to expose my breast. Ravenous, he licked his bloodstained lips, giving me a stare that made my cunt clutch him harder before he sank his fangs to pierce cavities in my tit.

“No!!!” I cried out and gasped as he thrust deeper to punish me for my protest. His heavy cock hit a spot so deep inside me that tears instantly emerged and fell down my cheeks, the pang bringing through a spasm of odd relief. 

Blood and saliva smeared along my cleavage as he dragged his lips further, licking and then kissing every patch he bruised. I moaned breathlessly, throwing my head back against the wall as his nimble fingers surveyed my neck, laying small threats to show me how easy he could simply suspend my very basic need. 

But my survival instincts already flew out the window the moment he penetrated me.

His lips hovered above mine as he fucked deep into my body, our cries creating an obscure symphony as he continuously slammed into my hilt, harder and more urgent with every plunge. The tears that fell down my cheeks were tainted with the conflicting aphrodisiac that pain brought through. In that instant I was whole, gratified by the friction created of the collision of our wet organs.

“Do it!” I gasped and nodded through glossy stares, swallowing hard to gesture what he already knew. With a swift snap of his hands, his fingers were bruising on my neck and he slammed into me at a furious pace, giving no care for my broken screams. 

Euphoria tore through my soul, crashing like hot waves of eternal fire. I came apart around his thick rod crying for God and Satan at once. Sherlock never slowed down, not even as he felt the tightening of my ring around him. It only made him fuck me harder, burying his face at my collarbone, chasing his own rapture at a punishing speed, grunting like a beast. Finally, he shuddered and pumped me full of his thick, silky milk. The muscles of his behind flexed and he ground his hot load into my warm cavern, making sure I received every drop. My hands reached to squeeze his taut ass as my legs clutched him still, wanting to keep him inside me. 

As if he had any intentions of leaving as he moaned and spasmed inside me. 

Smoke filled the room as few of the candles died; the scent of ash and the musk of our sex seeped through our noses while we remained entwined, shaking in each other’s grasp. Breathless and damp with sweat, Sherlock lifted his face from my neck and glanced at me looking so vulnerable, almost appearing lost. I moved my trembling hands back to his face, my thumbs caressing his sharp cheeks. 

“I know I am harsh…” he murmured, his eyes digging into my heart with nothing but a gaze of despair, “but please don’t ever leave me.”

My face fell at the sound of his words, my lips parting with awe. My detective could solve the most outrageous crimes, and yet he couldn’t realise I was shackled to him for all eternity.  

[the-scandalorian]

Tempered Glass: Chapter 1

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader (no use of Y/N) Rating: M (will become explicit in later chapters) Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: slow burn, canon-typical violence, cursing, sexy thoughts, pining, non-graphic description of wounds Summary: With the ghosts of your own mysterious past close on your heels, you can’t afford to get in the middle of someone else’s fight; however, attraction drives you to make a reckless decision, and you end up swept up in the Mandalorian’s story. Notes: (1) Reader is bisexual. It will probably only come up peripherally, but I wanted to make a note of that. (2) I did my best to keep physical descriptions of the reader out of my writing, but please let me know if something slipped in that isn’t as inclusive as it could be!  

Masterlist | Next Chapter

Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian

You felt the weight of the Mandalorian’s gaze before you saw him.

Sitting in the cantina on Nevarro, you were alone in a corner booth—a seat close to the back exit that had a clear view of the front door.

You were halfway through your drink when the hairs on the back of your neck prickled, and you had the overwhelming feeling that you were being watched.

You scanned the cantina and, in your periphery, registered the Mandalorian’s head snap back from your direction to face the man sitting across from him. You hadn’t noticed him enter, but it must have been just moments ago because you surveyed your surroundings every few minutes.

The two men were seated a few tables away. You observed the Mandalorian for a moment, noting his stiff-backed posture and the tension in his shoulders under his battle-worn armor. He could tell you’d caught him staring and that you were watching him.

The man sitting across from the Mandalorian was gesticulating as he spoke. You’d been on Nevarro long enough to recognize him as Greef Karga, local leader of the Guild. You could only see his back, but he was boisterous—a stark contrast to the Mandalorian’s silent stillness—and his voice carried.

Karga was saying something about bounties and currency—no surprise there. Mandalorians were the most feared bounty hunters in the galaxy. You didn’t know much about them besides the legends you’d heard as a child, though it was very unclear what was true and what was myth. You’d only ever seen one in person before, and that Mandalorian had been terrifying, threatening.

This Mandalorian, however, was... intriguing? He was, of course, intimidating—in his head-to-toe armor with a long rifle leaned against the table, he was the very picture of a warrior. Any person with sense would be scared of him, and judging by the sidelong glances he was getting from the other patrons, most were.

The very relatable experience of having someone catch you in the act of watching them—as you’d just done to him—however, humanized this Mandalorian. Noting his broad shoulders, you couldn’t help wondering what he looked like under all that heavy metal. You’d heard rumors that some Mandalorians never took off their armor in front of another person. That would be a real shame.

Though you’d have preferred to continue thinking about the man under the armor (and the things you wanted to do with him), a small voice in your head reminded you of the potentially dangerous reality of your situation.

Why was he watching me? He can’t possibly recognize me.

No one had come after you in years. There was likely still a steep bounty on your head, but many of the people who wanted to find you were dead, imprisoned, or deep in hiding. Some were convinced you’d been taken out in a star cruiser explosion (because you almost had been). And, you no longer looked like the photo that was attached to your bounty puck. Your hair was a radically different shade and length. You wore contacts to obscure the real color of your eyes. You always chose high-necked clothing to conceal the identifying scar that slashed an angry line beneath your clavicle.  

You kept a low profile, moved often, and assumed a fake identity, but you felt safe enough in your anonymity to come to a planet like Nevarro, a place that was swarming with hunters.

Plus, you reasoned that if the Mandalorian was looking for you for a job, this is probably not how it would have happened. It would have been stealthy and quick, potentially bloody and violent.

No, you didn’t think he was looking for you, which meant he had been looking at you. Out of interest. And that was so, so much better.

You turned your body towards him pointedly to make it more obvious that you were watching him. The slight forward lean of his shoulders told you he registered your movement in his periphery. His helmet stayed trained on Karga, but it was impossible to know exactly where he was looking through the black t-shape of his visor. You would have bet he was looking back at you.

The Mandalorian responded to Karga, pushing some credits back across the table. You could hear the low undercurrent of his modulated voice, but you couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. It looked like they were arguing about the currency of the credits on the table.

As Karga dug in his pocket for something, the Mandalorian turned his helmet slowly back towards you. Throwing caution to the wind, you smiled at him and winked, and he dipped his head in acknowledgement. You watched him expectantly, figuring this was when he’d walk over to your table.

Instead, he turned his head back to Karga, responded to something he said, and grabbed the credits off the table. They were clearly finishing up their deal. The Mandalorian slid out of the booth and strapped the long rifle to his back. He started toward the front door.

Maybe you’d read the whole situation wrong. Like you, he was trained to be aware of everyone, everything around him. Perhaps, he’d just been surveying the cantina, not necessarily you.

Feeling slightly disappointed, you finished your drink, dropped some credits on the table, and got up to leave. You were pulling on your jacket when a familiar feeling made you flick your head up. The Mandalorian was standing at the front of the cantina, his dark silhouette framed in the light of the open doorway, visor trained on you.

From where he was standing, he looked you up and down, lowering and raising his helmet to survey your body from top to bottom and back up again—a gesture that could have easily been achieved without moving his entire head in such an obvious way. His penetrating gaze and brazen attention made you shiver. 

He waited to see what you would do.

You were tempted to go to him, to see what would happen, but the stubborn part of you wanted him to come to you—and, more importantly, the sensible part of you was worried this was somehow a trap. You made an impulsive choice and decided to prolong the chase...whether that chase would prove to be literal or figurative, you weren’t totally sure.

You smiled slyly at him and turned, slipping out the back door.

***

The second time you crossed paths with the Mandalorian, you saw him before he saw you.

You were walking down Nevarro’s main thoroughfare, a busy street lined with vendors, pushing through the crowd, when you spotted the back of his reflective helmet. A couple weeks had passed since you had seen him in the cantina, and you’d been hoping to see him again, always keeping an eye out for his distinctive profile.

These past two weeks, you’d found your thoughts straying to his image—strong, mysterious, intimidating. He was sexy. There was no getting around it. You’d spent enough time around people in masks and full-body armor to know that it wasn’t just the mystery of the helmet that attracted you to him. There was something about him you couldn’t shake.

It didn’t help that you were bored and lonely here on Nevarro. It was not your favorite planet. It was dry and hot, the surface a mosaic of cracked flows of hardened lava and loose tephra—unwelcoming terrain. It was volcanically active, too, steam pouring from fractures in the hard, black ground. A river of molten lava ran under the city itself. Who would choose to live here?

For you, Nevarro was no more than a stopover—a place to stay for a few months before moving on to the next planet. You could leave any time, easily book passage to a bigger city on a prettier planet, but that shameless part of you that imagined the Mandalorian fucking you in his full armor was bold enough to convince yourself to stick around for a little longer and see if you could run into him again. Why not?

You’d been running for years, denying yourself comfort, companionship, consistency. Couldn’t you indulge just this once?

You had no reason to think the Mandalorian had thought of you for one second after seeing you in the cantina, but you let yourself hope. He didn’t hide the way he looked at you, and he hadn’t pursued you as a quarry when you left the cantina (and what a relief that was), so that meant...he’d flirted with you...right? That was probably how a Mandalorian flirted? Maybe you were stuck in his head the way he was stuck in yours? A girl could dream.

You watched his helmet disappear and reappear as you both weaved through the throngs of people. The Mandalorian had a purposeful gait and an immediate effect on everyone around him: the crowd parted for him as people avoided his path and his gaze. No one wanted to be noticed by a Mandalorian. 

Well, almost no one.

The Mandalorian clearly relied on his menacing appearance and the notorious lore associated with his armor to ensure that he was left alone. You, on the other hand, depended on stealth and the ability to disappear in a swarm of people to stay hidden. This meant that while the crowd parted easily for him, you struggled to wend your way through it.

He turned down a side street. 

The fact that he’d hounded your thoughts since you first saw him spurred you into recklessness, and you followed. As you turned down the same side street, you saw the edge of his cape disappear into an alley. The further away you moved from the main street, the more you began to question yourself.

This is potentially a bad idea.

This is definitely a bad idea.

Your existence hinged on your ability to stay lost, to be anonymous, to change your appearance, to never be sought out. And here you were, seeking out a bounty hunter.

You’d been slipping into a dangerous false sense of security these past few months—spending more time in each place, neglecting to change your chaincode as often as you should. Just because no one had come for you in a couple years, didn’t mean you were safe. You needed to snap yourself out of this delusional thinking. 

But maybe... not yet?

You picked up your pace.

It was just the two of you in a long alleyway, and you were sure he could sense you behind him by the slight turn of his head, but he didn’t stop or turn around. You weren’t being stealthy, only a few long strides behind him. He had to know you were there.

He walked surprisingly quietly, considering his heavy armor and determined stride. The loudest sound he made was his cape whipping around his calves. His long rifle was strapped to his back, and he was carrying a camtono in his left hand.

He quickly slipped down another shadowy passageway that you hadn’t noticed. You turned to follow, about to say something, but the passage was deserted. You walked to the end and back, checking to see if he’d turned again, but there was no trace of him. No doorways led off the passage. The only things in the alley were a stack of abandoned wooden pallets and a grate that emitted hot steam. He must have given you the slip on purpose, taken some secret route to evade the stranger on his tail.

Understandable. It’s what you would have done too. I probably should have come up with a better plan than just pursuing him.

Well, fuck.

You were more disappointed than you cared to admit, but you turned and headed back to the apartment you were renting a few blocks away. You were slightly embarrassed by how impulsive you’d just been. You wouldn’t have felt so abashed if it had paid off, but it hadn’t. 

You’d overstayed your time on Nevarro. Your self-imposed limit was two months per location, and you’d been here two and a half. You couldn’t push it any more, especially for such a ridiculous reason. It was time to go.

***

The third time you encountered the Mandalorian, neither of you saw the other coming.

You packed up your things, fitting everything you needed in one backpack. You purchased more food and let the hours of the afternoon drag on, waiting for the sun to sink low in the sky before heading out. 

When it was evening, you slipped your blaster into the holster at the small of your back. You slid a vibroblade into the sheath at your hip and strapped a much smaller one to your calf where it was concealed under your pants. As you slung your bag over your shoulder and scanned your small space to make sure you hadn’t forgotten anything, noise erupted outside—an explosion, not far away.

There were enough ex-Imperials and bounty hunters on Nevarro that street fights and loud commotions were commonplace. You slipped out your front door, figuring you could avoid the action by slinking through the alleyways. You knew the layout of the city fairly well by now.

You crept through the dim streets. You guessed that the fighting was a couple blocks to your left based on the muffled sounds of intermittent blaster fire. You made your way toward the cantina where you knew a few regulars who would have transpo connections, but you only made it a couple blocks from your apartment before you ran into trouble.

Suddenly, shouts echoed down the street behind you. You made a hasty left turn, looking back to see if anyone was following as you broke into a run. With your head turned, you didn’t see the Mandalorian backing his way down the street toward you. You collided painfully with his back and crumpled to the ground next to him. He, mostly unfazed, made a grunting sound and snapped his head to the side to see who’d hit him. He kept his body and his blaster trained forward at two shadowy figures that were stalking towards him, but he pointed his left vambrace down at you, prepared to neutralize you if needed.

He cocked his head at you as if trying to assess whether or not you were a threat. Before you could think of anything to say, blaster fire screamed down the alley toward both of you. You grabbed your own blaster and sprang to your feet.

Noting the way you trained your blaster away from him, the Mandalorian redirected his attention back to the oncoming assailants. As more blaster fire streaked toward you, he jumped in front of you to shield your body with his and fired back down the alley.

I guess he decided I’m not a threat.

The figures drew nearer—one, a hulking man, and the other, a wiry woman with blue hair... both bounty hunters. They slunk around stray crates and garbage bins, making it difficult for either of you to land a direct hit.

The Mandalorian’s beskar armor lived up to the crazy stories you’d heard. Blaster fire pinged off of it without leaving a mark. Standing so close behind him, you noticed that his armor was different than what he’d worn just earlier that day. His old armor, painted a rusty reddish-brown, had been mismatched and battered. This was new, pristine, unpainted—a stunning reflective silver.

It was the same Mandalorian though. That you were sure of.

You kept most of your body behind his protective stance, just peaking your head and arm out periodically to take a shot. You leaned around him again to fire, and you hit the woman in the thigh while she was momentarily exposed. She grunted in pain and paused her advance.

You ducked back behind the Mandalorian. You were surprised and confused by the way the he was treating you like a partner, protecting you instinctually. You hadn’t exchanged so much as a word yet.

Weren’t Mandalorians supposed to be merciless, violent bounty hunters? Why was he trusting you? For that matter, why were you trusting him? It sounded absurd to think that he just felt trustworthy.

The next time you poked your head out, you noticed that the man had stopped shooting and was watching you intently from where he was hiding behind a stack of boxes. He made eye contact with you and held it, and you saw recognition dawn on his face. He pointed at you, turning to the woman to yell something in a language you didn’t recognize, and then charged forward, blaster drawn. His mouth formed your name, your real name, as he thundered towards you. You froze where you stood, partially exposed.

Fuck. He recognized me so easily. How?

Hot blaster fire zinged past your ear. The Mandalorian lurched forward and fell to one knee in a controlled movement as fire erupted from his vambrace. His quick thinking snapped you out of your panic, but your heart thundered as you processed how close you’d come to getting shot.

As the man’s clothes caught fire and he began to flail in panic, you came back to your senses and shot him in the chest.

The female bounty hunter, who was still several paces behind the man, disappeared down an alley behind her, just as you resumed shooting in her direction.

It won’t be long before word spreads that I’m alive on Nevarro. FUCK.

The footfalls of the woman faded quickly, and you knew she was too far ahead to catch.

You and the Mandalorian were left alone in the alley. Things were quiet for a moment. 

You turned to look at each other. It was then that you noticed the bundle tucked tightly in the crook of his right arm, the same arm that held his blaster. He shuffled the bundle to his left arm carefully... tenderly?

He tilted his helmet slightly, starting to say something just as you did the same. Before either of you could form a sentence, several more figures rounded the corner behind you.

“Come on,” you yelled, grabbing his arm to drag him forward. For the moment, the two of you were in this together. It was better than being caught in this fray alone. You figured you’d be able to slip away from the action soon enough.

As you ran through the streets, you both noted the echoing footsteps picking up behind you at each juncture. More and more people—bounty hunters—were joining the pursuit. It seemed like every bounty hunter in Nevarro was being drawn to the Mandalorian.

What did he do to bring this much heat down on himself? I need to lose him.

You considered turning down every street or alley you passed, but at least one hunter blocked each one. Every doorway was shut tight. The hunters were right on your heels. You kept running, the Mandalorian pounding along behind you, until you reached the main street, emerging near the archway that marked the entrance to town. Beyond the archway, the flat expanse of Nevarro stretched out before you; a silver ship, not far ahead, was the only thing that broke up the uniform landscape.

You both stopped abruptly in the middle of the street, as at least twenty bounty hunters closed in around you, each with a blinking fob in their hand. You were trapped. The pinging chorus of the fobs was enough to rip you back to a not-so-distant time when that sound was a constant refrain in your nightmares. But even at the height of the Empire’s search for you, you’d never had this many people on your tail.

Up until this moment, you hadn’t been too worried about making a getaway. You knew you would get out of this. You’d been in worse situations. But now? Blood rushed in your ears, and your adrenaline spiked. You were cornered, outnumbered, and somehow in the middle of a fight that had nothing to do with you. You were surrounded by bounty hunters, and one had already recognized you. You’d spent years disappearing and here you were, back in the thick of it because you turned down the wrong alley at the wrong time.

You glanced at the Mandalorian and tried to formulate an escape plan—or at least a way put some distance between you and him.

He surveyed the scene, seemingly calm in his blank mask of beskar, and began to walk towards the archway, as even more bounty hunters appeared. Not having come up with any better alternatives yet, you followed him.

The Mandalorian stopped short when Greef Karga sauntered out from the shadows to block your path forward through the archway.

“Welcome back, Mando!” Karga’s voice, the voice that had seemed jovial in the cantina weeks ago, sounded threatening as it rang through the street. “Now, put the package down.” He rested a hand on his hip, pushing back his cape to expose his blaster.

The bundle must be valuable. You wondered briefly what the Mandalorian had wrapped so carefully under his arm. A rare material like kyber? Something unstable like rhydonium? A set of holodisks with important intel?

The Mandalorian mirrored Karga’s movement, hovering his hand over his own blaster. “Step aside. I’m going to my ship,” he replied calmly. He sounded awfully certain considering the circumstances. Your eyes flicked back to the silver ship, an old Razor Crest, that sat just beyond the archway.

Karga chuckled. “You put the bounty down and perhaps I’ll let you pass.”

“The kid’s coming with me.”

KID?

“If you truly care about the kid, then you’ll put it on the speeder,” Karga said, pointing to a speeder parked in front of the building on your right, where a droid sat in the pilot’s seat. The droid let out a series of cheerful beeps, indicating its readiness.

“How do I know I can trust you?” asked the Mandalorian.

How did he know he could trust me? This guy seems to play fast and loose with trust.

Karga scoffed, “Because I’m your only hope.”

Shit.

Any second, this fight was going to turn into an every-person-for-themself situation. You and the Mandalorian had helped each other thus far because it had been convenient, but now that you were trapped, you knew this precarious alliance you’d formed out of necessity was about to fracture. You hadn’t missed the way he said I and me, not we and us. You weren’t part of his equation, and you couldn’t blame him—of course, you were also going to prioritize your own safety over that of a literal stranger.

You surveyed the street, looking for the least obstructed escape route. You hoped you could run fast enough once this tense moment passed and the fight started in earnest.

The Mandalorian stepped back into you suddenly, taking the opportunity to whisper urgently, “Jump in when I say go.”

You were stunned—so stunned that you followed him without thinking as he walked over to the speeder.

For the first time, the Mandalorian looked down at the bundle in his arms. You gasped when you saw that it was in fact a sleeping child—a tiny green infant. He took a moment to watch the baby before glancing at you briefly. He looked back down at the child and without any warning, he breathed, “NOW.”

You dove head first onto the speeder as he raised his blaster and shot a hunter who was right behind where you had just been standing. From the outside, you imagined that it looked like the two of you were partners—the way you moved together, coordinated and seamless.

You scrambled back and pushed crates out of the way, staying down on your stomach, as the Mandalorian flung himself over the side of the speeder and landed next to you. Blaster fire screeched all around you as the hunters reacted in unison.

You both stayed prone on the floor of the speeder, reaching only your blasters up to return the fire that was raining down on you. The Mandalorian rolled over to carefully place the kid down before yelling at the droid at the front of the speeder.

“DRIVE!”

When the droid shook its head in refusal, the Mandalorian demanded again, holding up his blaster threateningly. The droid acquiesced, and the speeder lurched forward. You grabbed the child and hugged them to your chest as the crates shifted around you.

You made it almost all the way to the archway—you and the Mandalorian taking out several of the bounty hunters as you went—before someone had the sense to shoot the pilot droid. The speeder crashed to a halt in a rain of sparks. Fire ceased and a tense quiet fell.

The Mandalorian edged toward you on his elbows. You could hear the bounty hunters closing in around you, the crunch of their boots ominous. You curled your body protectively over the child.

“Fuck,” you whispered. “What now?” You looked into the black t of his visor, wishing you could see his eyes.

He nodded as if that was a sufficient answer to your question and worked his way toward the edge of the speeder. Slowly, silently, he pulled his long rifle from his side and eased it between two crates, pointing it at a hunter on the roof of the closest building. You heard the sound of the rifle powering up and its screeching discharge as it vaporized the hunter. And then another. And another. The Mandalorian’s reload was lightening fast. You took the chance during the ensuing chaos to scoot to the edge of the speeder and take aim at a hunter with your blaster. The remaining hunters scurried away, taking shelter behind walls, doorways, whatever they could find.

The Mandalorian paused, and for a tense moment, nothing happened. The threat of the Amban Rifle was enough to create another temporary ceasefire.

“That’s one impressive weapon,” bellowed Karga. You couldn’t see him from where you lay.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna walk to my ship with the kid, and you’re gonna let that happen,” the Mandalorian stated authoritatively.

We.

“No, how about this? We take the kid, and if you try and stop us, we kill you both and then strip your body for parts,” Karga spat back.

You could feel the hunters starting to come out of hiding all around you. The subtle rasp of tephra under foot gave them away again. You looked behind you and saw that one hooded hunter was edging closer to the speeder. The Mandalorian had his back to the hunter, as he faced Karga. You trained your blaster on the approaching hunter, ready to fire. Before you could pull the trigger, the Mandalorian kicked the canister at his feet, knocking the hunter over, and sat up to stun him with the rifle.

Apparently, he had been aware of the man the whole time. His peripheral vision must be largely obstructed in his helmet. How is he so acutely aware of everything around him?

Everyone opened fire once again.

Over the sound of blaster fire, you heard Karga yell, “Don’t hit the target!”

The Mandalorian rose to his knees, leaned over some crates, and activated his vambrace so a sudden burst of flames cleared out the hunters that were closest to the speeder. You took out two more with your blaster while they were distracted by the flames.

The Mandalorian grunted in frustration as the fire streaming from his wrist sputtered out. Then, he grunted and doubled over in pain when blaster fire hit him in the side, where he wasn’t protected by his armor.

He clutched his side and ducked back down to crawl his way over to you, gently pulling on your arm until you released the child, so he could look at their face. The child cooed and opened two huge, watery eyes.

You looked away, feeling like you were encroaching on a private moment.

Is this his kid? Who is after a child? What is the story here?

You leaned away and fired several more shots, injuring another hunter.

Then you heard it. A streaming projectile took out one of the hunters on a nearby roof. As the hunter screamed and fell to the ground, several figures in Mandalorian armor, powered by jetpacks with blasters in hand, rose up from behind the row of buildings lining the street. There had to be at least a dozen of them—maybe more. It was hard to tell in the chaos. They seemed to be everywhere. They took out hunter after hunter as they slowly lowered themselves to the ground and sparks rained down around you.

You both sat up to watch.

A particularly huge Mandalorian in blue armor with a large repeating blaster touched down next to the speeder and bellowed, “Get out of here! We’ll hold them off!”

“You’re going to have to relocate the covert,” responded the Mandalorian, raising his voice to be heard over the din.

“This is the way,” replied the huge blue Mandalorian, as he continued to fire at the bounty hunters.

“This is the way,” agreed the Mandalorian next to you. 

In one fluid movement, he strapped his rifle to his back. You sheathed your blaster as he thrust the kid back into your arms, and he grabbed your free hand, hauling you to your feet as he stood. You jumped from the speeder together. He pulled you along behind him, continuing to shield your body with his as much as possible. The juxtaposition of the way he held your hand and how he was brutally taking out hunter after hunter with his blaster was jarring.

A blaster shot grazed your thigh as you ran, and you swore at the stinging pain, doubling over slightly without loosening your grip on the child. The Mandalorian turned his head but didn’t stop pulling you forward. You faltered for a moment but gritted your teeth and sped up to sprint behind him, leaving the chaos in your wake as you crossed under the archway. You made it the short distance to his ship, where the ramp was already lowered.

You followed him up the ramp. He shoved his blaster into the holster on his belt and started forward into the ship.

The idea of being trapped with this strange Mandalorian was absurd, but you didn’t have much of a choice. If you stayed on Nevarro, the remaining bounty hunters would tear the city apart to find you. This was the fastest way to get off world: a calculated risk.

You sensed movement behind you before you heard Karga’s voice.

“Hold it, Mando.”

You both spun around to face him. Karga had a blaster trained on you and the kid in your arms.

“I didn’t want it to come to this. But then you broke the code,” he spat.

The Mandalorian was silent as he assessed his options. Silent was clearly his default state. He was used to hiding behind the intimidating mask of his armor.

You were trying to guess how good Karga’s reflexes were and if you could grab your blaster from where you’d resheathed it at your back fast enough. As you thought it out, the Mandalorian tipped his head subtly to his left at what looked like a carbonite chamber. Before you or Karga could register his plan, he shot a metal cord from his vambrace, hitting the button to activate the chamber and filling the hull with freezing mist.

In the gloom, the Mandalorian grabbed you roughly and pushed you out of the way. Karga shot blindly. You whipped out your blaster and fired back, knowing exactly where he had been standing. You heard him grunt and fall backwards off the ship with a thud.

The Mandalorian made quick work of shutting the ramp, deactivating the hissing carbonite chamber, and initiating the takeoff protocol from a control panel on the wall.

You slumped onto a nearby crate, exhausted, as the ship lifted off the ground. You let your backpack slide off your shoulders onto the floor next to you. Still holding the baby to your chest protectively, you loosened your arms to study their sweet sleeping face.

His face? Her face? Who is this child?

Wordlessly, the Mandalorian stomped forward and snatched the kid from your arms. You looked up in surprise as he disappeared up the ladder next to you. He was gone for a few moments before the ship jolted as it left Nevarro’s atmosphere and jumped into hyperspace.

You rested your head on the cool wall behind you, trying to catch your breath. You let your eyelids slip shut for a minute—until you opened your eyes at the loud thud of the Mandalorian jumping back down into the hull, ignoring the ladder all together. He walked purposefully towards what looked like a storage bay, set the sleeping child down inside, and closed the door with a snap. He turned slowly to face you.

***

Chapter 2

[it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream]

Opposites Attract (Paul Lahote x Reader) Chapter 3

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Warnings: Swearing

Word Count” 2.1k

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-Your POV-

They were running at a speed that seemed impossible, their size alone, impossible. The shear beauty of the animal, breath taking. This wasn’t the first time you’d dreamt of giant wolves. They visited your dreams frequently, leaving you with all sorts of un answered questions, leaving you the next day, searching “What does seeing giant wolves in your dreams mean?” Yup, you were that kinda girl. You thought there was an answer for everything, and there probably was, but you weren’t going to find the answer on google search. 

You don’t know how long you’d been in the car for. All you knew was you were in pain, then it seemed to ease and a sense of comfort washed over you. Your head felt as if it were floating, snuggled into something warm and soft. A pillow perhaps? You didn’t open your eyes to check, the pain in your abdomen and now across your whole body blinding, you’d woken a few times with a jolt, and then you passed out again. 

The next time you woke up you weren’t moving at all, which you were grateful for, the pain mixed with the motion of a moving vehicle didn’t do anything for your stomach, travel sickness was the bane of your life. Instead you found yourself in a room, the blinds drawn closed, the door shut, your body, in different clothes. A mens t-shirt? When did you get changed? Where were you? You looked around in a daze, sitting up slightly from the comfort of the pale yellow duvet set. Wooden log walls, photo frames scattered on every surface, subtle lighting and a wall lined with books, the smell of home cooking wafting through from the kitchen. You were in Emily and Sam’s guest room, how did you know this? Well for one all of the frames had pictures of the happy couple in, two, you’d stayed over once before, back when you’d been caught in a freak storm with Leah while on the beach. You vaguely remembered the place. You didn’t come over often, what with Leah and Sams history, that and as much as you liked Paul, sometimes you’d be nervous to bump into him. Paul! Speaking of Paul, you groaned and flopped back into the fluffy bed sheets. Paul was at the hotel when the pain started… where was he now? Did he drive with you back home? 

You were about to get up when Leah came bounding through the door. “Oh good I thought I could hear you awake in here.” She grinned at you. “You look like you’re feeling much better!” You pat the space beside you and Leah climbed in snuggling up to your side. 

“So, on a scale of one to ten how bad was it.” The big ‘It’ being how bad was the show in front of your long term crush. Leah shrugged as she looked at you. 

“Nothing was baddd… everyone was just worried about you, you seemed to be in some serious pain, hence why we thought it best to cut the trip short, it’s probably better that were home, it was early hours when we got here so Sam said we could just crash at his.” You raised your eye at you best friend. She was being awfully calm about the whole situation. She said Sams name in a sentence and didn’t get herself worked up. You looked down at yourself. 

“And the clothes? Or lack there of….” That’s when Leah grinned. You didn’t like the way she was looking at you. You inhaled the scent that was on the shirt. Sandel wood and aftershave, a hint of sea salt probably from the misty air outside. 

“That’s Pauls t-shirt Y/N” Your eyes went wide and you knew you were blushing.. did that mean he had undressed you. Leah noticed the panic in your eyes.

“Before you get worked up he just leant the t-shirt knowing you’d be uncomfortable in your dress, I changed you.” You audibly gave a sigh of relief, not knowing how you’d react if the guy you’d been in love with since second grade had finally seen you in your underwear. “He stayed in here with you last night you know, to make sure you were okay. He wouldn’t leave.” Leah was now proper up on one arm looking at you. You didn’t know what to make of it. You didn’t think Paul had even known you existed… You were taken from your train of thought when something started dinging. The mobile on the bedside table started beeping as texts came through one by one. Oh god, you hoped Leah hadn’t told your parents about your episode at the hotel, the last thing you needed was for them to worry. However, you realised when you picked it up, it wasn’t your phone. 

The screensaver was a picture of the guys from the res, all goofing around, it looked like it had actually been taken in Emilys kitchen. It had to be one of the guys. You realised it was Paul’s after remembering what Leah had said about him staying for some of the night. He must have forgotten it when he left. You didn’t mean to see the message but it automatically came up on screen when you tilted the Iphone in your hand.

“Such a shame we had to cancel our date last night handsome, still on for tonight?” There were a bunch of emojis next to the text, the purple devil, aubergine, water droplets. You didn’t have to be a genius to figure out whoever this girl was motives were. At first you were embarrassed, to the point where your mouth was kinda slack and Leah was asking you what was wrong. Then you were pissed. 

“He’s such a dick, honestly. I don’t know why this makes him a dick, i’m just so mad. I know I’m not the prettiest, or the funniest, or most talented or anything but jesus christ I wish he would just notice me for once instead of these girls who will put out at the drop of a freakin hat!” Leah had taken the phone from you to see what you were talking about. She groaned and then noticed your whole body was shaking, in a flash she was at the door calling for Sam and the others. All you could see was red. Your vision totally blank, the covers under your hands balled up in your fists tight, your body shaking, heating up. Somewhere in the background you could hear someone shouting at you to calm down, but this time you couldn’t. You heard the sound of ripping and then all of a sudden the world around you changed. For one, everything in the room seemed to get smaller, or maybe you got bigger? You were still angry and started lashing out, only to be tackled by something from the side, leading you to smash through the wall of the wooden house. You still didn’t understand what was happening, until you heard them in your head. 

“Y/N CALM DOWN! We know this is scary but you need to calm down.” It was Sams voice. In your head. Or maybe, the voice was coming from the 8ft black wolf hovering over you. You didn’t scream, you didn’t even seem scared, and it’s because you realised, you were a wolf too. 

-Paul’s POV-

Y/N was safe, sleeping soundly in the room next door, or so Paul thought. It wasn’t until he heard the shouting that he knew something was wrong. Leah called for help and before he knew what had happened there was a bang and Sam was tackling a wolf on the ground outside the house. 

A white wolf. Small, slim, bright, with a single grey patch of fur around an eye. Paul shifted instantly, realising the unknown wolf in front of him was in fact his imprint. He let out a low growl to Sam, even though he was the Alpha, Paul didn’t like the fact he’d just tackled his girl. He looked her over, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth almost comically, all the while Y/N stood staring and the grey wolf now in front of her, he could hear through the bond that she’d just imprinted, feel it too. Now she knew. 

-Your POV-

“Hold the fuck up.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Part of you couldn’t tell if you were in a dream or had just gone plain crazy. The other part of you knew that everything was real but you just couldn’t process the information quick enough. “So you’re telling me, that our ancestors were these shapeshifters and the gene was passed down to us to allow us to shift into giant wolves and hunt down vampires. You know, Vampires, ‘I want to suck you blood’, creepy pale strong immortal beings with no soul? And werewolves, I mean, Shifters..” It was insane. 

“Anddd to top it off, the man i’ve had a crush on since 2nd grade is my imprint, the person I’m supposed to be with for the rest of my life?” You glared at Paul who had the audacity to wink in your direction. Looking around you noticed the other faces, all amused at your outburst. Okay, so this wasn’t a joke, it was some sick reality you were now a part of. You hadn’t looked in Leah’s direction yet, pissed that your best friend had kept such a massive secret from you. Obviously you knew it wasn’t her fault, she wasn’t aloud to tell you the tribes secret, they didn’t know that you would be another female shifter, apparently your kind were rare. It still stung a little. 

“What really sucks thought Y/N, is that you’re gonna have to cut you beautiful hair short, our human hair mimics the length of our wolf hair, hence why each of us one by one cut it all off.” Quil sat back and shrugged and Paul growled lowly, not lowly enough for heightened hearing. 

“Why now. Why. I-I have school and I have things I want to do with my life.. I can’t be a shifter..” Reality had started to sink in and you found it difficult to breath. It felt like everyone in the room was staring at you and it didn’t help that you could also hear what everyone was basically saying. Your chair was pushed back with a screech, falling over and hitting the wooden floor. 

“I-I need to get out of here, I need a minute..” You were out the door in a flash, Leah and the boys running after you. Somewhere in the distance you could make out Sam telling Paul to calm down and then heard what sounded like wolves shifting but you’d already made it to the tree line, being able to run faster than you’d imagined still in your human form. 

The air was colder the higher up you got. You didn’t know how long you’d been running for but it had been a couple of hours before you finally stopped. In the middle of nowhere, high up in the mountains you let out a scream, one that sent flocks of birds fleeing from trees, the notes of your anguish scattering in the breeze. Everything would be changing now, life as you once knew it was gone. Part of yourself would never be yours again, having to follow a pack system. Another part of you was giddy at the thought that the man you’d been in love with your whole life turned out to be the one destined for you all along, it only took shifting into a wolf for you both to realise just how compatible you were.

You’d been alone with your thoughts long enough when you heard a twig snap in the distance. The hairs on your arms stood up and your heart started beating rapidly, turning, you calmed when you noticed a familiar figure walk out into the open. 

“Paul.” You could feel the bond running through your veins, seeing him helped you breath better and the physical need and urge to be in his arms was too strong. Like he sensed it too, he was over to you in a flash, taking you in his arms, your body pressed against his, his nose buried in your hair breathing in your scent, like he was saving it to memory. 

“Y/N, it’s all going to be okay, I promise, nothing bad will ever happen to you while i’m around, I know it seems scary now, but it won’t be like this forever. You’re already so strong, and I’m lucky that fate paired me with you.”

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Yoooo. I hope you liked this chapter, I’ve had some writers block recently, just trying to keep going. I’m still not sure what direction I’m taking this fic, I do know however that this is set at the beginning of eclipse! So watch out for some vampire action!

TagList:

@mariasblogsworld

@rosella26

@punkfrogz

@jjpogueprincess

If you want to be added to this tag list please let me know, sorry if I missed anyone off! <3 Please re-blog/like/follow <3

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Quarantine Lovers (Part 3) | Charlie Gillespie

A/N: Happy Halloween, you guys! I hope you’ve had an amazing day so far, whether you go all out for the holiday or not! Hope you enjoy this little imagine-fic-thing of celebrating Halloween in quarantine with Charlie :) Love you guys! xxx

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Warnings: fluff

Words: 2, 827

Happy Halloween, Witches

Ah, 2020. The year that canceled everything thus far. No traveling, no real summer. You couldn’t even get back to work and neither could Charlie. You had spent your time writing up ideas for new shows and pitching some ideas over Zoom to the rest of the Outer Banks writing team. It sucked. Mostly because you couldn’t see any family or friends in real life. And now that October has come around, it seems nothing has changed much. In fact, it’s gotten even worse. 

There was a second lockdown looming and you could just about see  your perfect Halloween night shattering right before your eyes. Sure, you were just planning on inviting some friends over and watching horror movies, eating pizza and snacks, but it still sucked that wouldn’t happen now after all. 

Charlie had noticed on Monday how bummed you were when you realized things were getting worse. He knew how much you loved the holiday and how excited you were to see friends and spend some time with them. So, he set his plan in motion. 

On Saturday morning, you wake up to a cold, empty bed and the sound of clanging pans and cutlery coming from the kitchen. Confused, and still a little sleep-drunk, you get out of bed and slip on Charlie’s sweater to keep you at least a little warm since you were just wearing a shirt of his. (You’d almost think you don’t ever wear your own clothes anymore). From the little corridor that connects the bedrooms to the living and kitchen area, you can already spot him at the stove. Curious and a little endeared that he’d be cooking this early in the morning, you make your way towards him, only to be surprised by the living room being coated in full Halloween gear. Spiders in spider webs everywhere, pumpkins, skeletons, ghosts in every nook and cranny. 

“Char… Wha--?” he turns to you, eyes widening first before his smile appears instead. 

“Get back to bed, I was gonna wake you up with a song.” You walk over to him, peeking over his shoulder to what he’s making. Pumpkin pancakes. He’s actually making pancakes in the form of little pumpkins. Could he be any cuter? 

“You’ve missed your true calling, baby,” you tell him and kiss his bare shoulder. A light chuckle arises from his body, making his shoulders shake slightly. You then turn around to eye the feast he had already spread out on the table. 

Everything is in theme. Halloween doughnuts, a giant fake pumpkin with fruit seeping out of its mouth. You assume he just went on Pinterest to inspire him and then, when walking down the aisles in the shops, just grabbed everything that seemed even slightly Halloweeny. “Can I help you with anything?” you ask, looking around for a job to do. Charlie turns around to place the plate with a pile of pumpkin pancakes on the table, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back as he leaned past  you. 

“No, I got it covered,” he presses a kiss to your hair before turning to go to the fridge. “Sit down, baby.” Slightly disgruntled, you sigh and sit down on the chair closest to you. 

“Why are we doing this, Gillespie? Got something to make up for?” you ask teasingly after taking another glance at the breakfast spread in front of you. 

“Can’t I just surprise my girlfriend with the breakfast of dreams?” He asks and places a hand on the back of your neck while leaning forward to pour some orange juice into a glass. His fingers softly scratch your scalp, and you can’t help but lean into his touch. “Besides, I noticed how bummed you were about our plans with our friends falling apart, so I came up with a plan to make it the best Halloween I could, despite being stuck inside with me.” You nearly melt at this idea of his. He did all of this. For you. Just because you were bummed about cancelled plans. How did you ever earn a beautiful, good soul like him? 

“I would’ve enjoyed just watching movies tonight with you, too, you goof,” you say, which sends a smile right up to his lips. “But thank you.” He leans down to press his lips on yours quickly before turning to grab a few more things and then joining you at the table. 

“So, I have an entire day of fun things planned for us,” he starts when you take your first bite of pumpkin pancake, a delightful moan escaping  your lips at the amazing taste tingling your taste buds. Charlie shoots you an amused look with risen eyebrows and a smirk. 

“These are good!” you exclaim, “But go on, what are the fun things you planned?” Charlie is seemingly brought back into reality by that question as he slightly shakes his head and blinks his eyes a few times quickly. 

“So, remember when you kinda joked we should go as each other for Halloween?” You nod your head slowly, that was something you did suggest as a Halloween costume last month when you were planning the whole night. All your friends would’ve come dressed up. It was mandatory to do so on Halloween, you thought. “I think we should do it. We should dress as each other and then we’re going to the shops to get us some tools and pumpkins…” Your eyes widen at this, already know what the rest of his plan is. 

“We’re gonna carve pumpkins?!” you nearly scream. This makes him laugh, shaking his head at how freaking adorable you are with your little bounds of excitement. It’s the same way he gets excited about the things he’s passionate about. 

“Yes, we are! And then we’re gonna bake some Halloween cookies, order pizza and watch movies all night long!” You shriek with exhilaration, and get up to run around the table towards your boyfriend, attacking him with your lips on his. He chuckles against your lips, pulling you down to his lap. You deepen the kiss while your hands tangle up in his hair. This makes him stop giggling as he melts right into you, his hands roaming from your waist down your thigh and back up. 

“You are the greatest boyfriend, you know that?” you tell him when you pull back, resting your forehead against his and staring in his eyes. He pecks your lips once more before leaning over to grab a piece of fruit and feeding it to you. 

“You deserve it, baby,” he tells you with a shrug whilst you grab another piece of fruit and hold it out to him to eat. “We both love Halloween, so it seemed a little lame to just watch movies together,  you know? That’s a regular Thursday in this household.” You giggle at that. He’s not wrong. During lockdown, you’ve watched so many movies, you’ve lost count. 

“I love you,” you whisper and kiss him again. The taste of strawberry still faintly on his lips. 

“I love you too, like so much.” He plants another kiss on your lips before you both turn back to your breakfast, but staying where you are; on his lap. You feed each other fruit and pancakes and doughnuts whilst chatting about how excited you were about the entire day. 

After breakfast, he let you get dressed first whilst he cleaned up the kitchen. You’d suggested to help, but he insisted on you getting dressed and ready instead. So, you do. You shower, dry your hair and curl it, then put on very minimal makeup, just to hide those bags and blemishes. As an outfit, you picked out some dungarees (because, let’s be honest, Charlie looked cutest in his dungarees), steal his Sunset Curve Summer Tour ‘95 shirt to go underneath it and your white Adidas on your feet. You also steal one of his snapbacks since his lockdown-hair has needed some support to keep it out of his eyes. 

Once ready, you check yourself in the full-length mirror, then nod, satisfied with the ensemble. You can’t wait to see Charlie’s reaction to this costume of yours or what he has planned for his costume. 

“Cover your eyes!” you yell into the direction of the living room. 

“Covered!” he yells back, and you make your way cautiously into the living room where you find Charlie on the couch with his phone in his lap and his hands over his eyes. He looks like an actual toddler like this. It’s the most endearing thing you’d ever seen, so you quickly snap a picture before stepping in front of him. 

“Okay, open.” He slowly takes his hands away from his eyes, and lets them wander over your entire body. His lips part as some excess air needs to leave his lungs from that breath-taking view in front of him. “You like it?” you ask, twirling around, so he can see the entire thing. He quickly places his phone on the couch and stands up, placing his hands on your waist. 

“You look better in this outfit than I ever would, Gorgeous,” he mumbles before leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “You make me crazy, Y/L/N.” You comb your fingers through the front of his hair, making his gorgeous eyes more visible to you. 

“Ditto, Gillespie,” you whisper and kiss him once again. “Now, you get dressed. I’m curious to see what you come up with.” After having kissed your nose quickly, he dashes past you and into the bedroom, leaving you all by yourself. It takes him about fifteen minutes before his voice chimes through the apartment. 

“I’m ready! Close your eyes!” You place your hands over your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips in excitement. “Okay, open.” His voice sounds closer, a little teasing, even. You slowly remove your hands, your eyes widening and your mouth dropping at the sight in front of you. He’s wearing a loose, black boiler suit, complete with red-and-white belt, exactly how you’d wear it. On his feet, he’s wearing Dr. Martin’s ankle boots. 

“This is the best thing I ever did see!” you exclaim excitedly as he makes a little twirl. “We need to take a photo!” You grab your phone from the pocket of your dungarees and get it set up on a self-timer and so that it takes multiple pictures in one take before placing it on the tv stand. Once you press the button, you hurry to Charlie, who has his arms open. 

“Jump!” he says, and you quickly do so, wrapping  your legs around his waist at the same moment your phone starts taking the pictures. For the next few, you keep your feet on the floor, leaning against your boyfriend. The first ones, you’re looking at the camera, but Charlie’s looking at you. Then you’re looking at him but he’s not. And on the last one, you’re staring in each other’s eyes with wide smiles on your faces. For the last group of shots, you squat down and cross your arms, Charlie following your example. In the second shot, you both hold your hand up in a rock sign, sticking out your tongues. The last one of that group of pictures is of both of you falling on your butts due to the lack of balance. 

“Those last ones are hilarious,” he says, pointing at the ones where you’re both on your ass, throwing your head back with laughter. “Let’s go get our pumpkins now first!” 

Back home with the two biggest pumpkins you could find, -- there weren’t very many left -- the two of you start by covering the floor with an old sheet before getting your new utensils out and starting the carving process. While you’re spooning out pumpkin seeds, there’s music playing in the background, and the two of you are talking about what you’re about to do to the pumpkins. Charlie’s going to go for a Pennywise face whilst you’re cutting out three ghosts. He couldn’t help but smile at that idea of yours. You really were the cutest when you’re in your element about this holiday. 

“I think I’m done,” you say, leaning back to take a last look at the entire finished product. Charlie rests his head on your shoulder, peeking over to see your piece of art. “The guitars were really hard to do.” You point to Ghost Reggie’s bass and Ghost Luke’s guitar. “But the drumsticks were easy.” Charlie chuckles and plants a kiss underneath your ear, tasting a bit of pumpkin. This makes him scrunch his nose in disgust. Raw pumpkin does not taste that great.

“How in the holy hell did you get a little pumpkin behind your ear?” he asks and takes his finger to wipe any residue away. 

“I’ve got no clue,” you say and turn your head to face him, only to find a pumpkin seed stuck in his long hair. A laugh erupts from your body, shaking you from head to toe. “You’ve got some in your hair.” He tries to pluck it out, but keeps missing, so you help him out instead. “I shouldn’t have showered this morning,” you laugh, shaking your head at your own stupid desicion. Charlie laughs too before getting up with his pumpkin in hands. 

“Let’s put them on the kitchen island,” he suggests and makes his way there. “I’ll grab some tealights.” While he does that, you get up too and place  your Julie and The Phantoms one next to his Pennywise one. They don’t look too bad in your opinion. 

Charlie returns with two little tealights and places one in each pumpkin whilst you grab the matches, but Charlie stops you before you can light them. “It’s still light out, babe. That’s not gonna have much effect,” he chuckles. “We’ll light them later. Let’s bake now!” You nod your head vigorously and skip into the kitchen. 

That afternoon is spent baking cookies and cupcakes, and ends in a food fight with flour everywhere. To say this is the best Halloween you ever had would be the biggest understatement of the year. Even though it’s not exactly how you planned it, it’s still the most perfect day ever, thanks to Charlie. And that’s not even all he’d planned. 

By nightfall, the two of you had lit your pumpkins, placed the treats on the coffee table and had a movie ready to play on the tv when Charlie’s phone started to ring. A little confused and disgruntled about the interruption, you peer over his shoulder to see who’s calling him. Owen Joyner wants to facetime Julie and the Phantoms

Charlie glances at you with a smirk on his face before picking up the phone. The blonde guy you’ve come to love appears on the small screen, along with Jeremy and Carolynn, and Madison.

“Hey guys!” Charlie greets excited while you offer an excited wave. 

“Happy Halloween, Witches!” Owen yells. That’s when  you realize they, too, are dressed up. Owen has fake blood run from his lip and has a black cape draped over his shoulders. Carolynn and Jeremy are dressed as angel and devil whilst Madison is a witch. 

“What are you dressed as?” Owen asks, peering at his screen to try and figure it out. 

“Each other!” you reply, which sends all of them into a fit of laughter. 

“That’s very original!” Carolynn compliments. “You rock those dungarees, Y/N!”

“Thanks, angel,” you retort, a little flustered at the compliment. 

The FaceTime call lasts for about an hour and a half until Charlie decides to call it quits and start watching movies instead. You bid your goodbyes to your friends before cuddling up to Charlie as he puts his phone away. 

“This has really been the greatest Halloween, Char. Thank you,” you whisper and lean up to meet his lips for a sweet, long kiss. 

“Anything for you, Gorgeous.” You lie down on his chest again, getting kissed on the head as  you do so. You can’t help but sigh happily. Charlie really went all out with the surprises. From the breakfast spread to carving pumpkins and baking Halloween cookies to the surprise phone call from the guys and even the costume. 

That night, you post a bunch of pictures to Instagram. The first is one of the posed one of your outfits, then follows the one of Charlie covering his eyes on the sofa, your carved pumpkins and the one picture where you’ve both fallen on your ass after losing balance. 

“Wanna thank this little goofball for going all out on my favorite day of the year. Guess I should be more bummed about little things from now on if it means getting pumpkin pancakes, dressing up as each other and all the other amazing surprises. Thank you, baby. You really are the greatest of all time. @charles_gillespie 💗 Happy Halloween, Witches! 🎃”

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @thequirkybookaholic​ @bookdealer5​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​ @hemmingsness​ @iainttakingshitfromnobody​ @ifilwtmfc​ @angryknightstatesmantrash​ @kiss-themoongoodbye​ @rudysbay​ @thedarkqueenofavalon​​ @caitsymichelle13​​ @calamitykaty​  @parkeret​​ @lukeys-giggle​ @gingerxarmy​ @lovesanimals​ @lolychu​ @perfectlywrongformend3s​ @luckylouiebug​ @camiladelrio98​ @myfriendscallmebeans​

[echo-three-one]

Filthy, filthy reunion smut with Soap- After months of pent up sexual frustration and being away from one another, Soap is finally home and gets to have the time he’s needed with reader ❤️

Hello anon. Wow. This is a wonderful request and I hope my answer is as wonderful than you have ever imagined.

⚠️ NSFW WARNING WITH UNSPEAKABLE ACTIONS ⚠️

Here it goes. I hope you have fun?

No longer frustrated

It has been a year and a half since you last saw your boyfriend. You turned to the photos that hung on your apartment wall showing pictures of the both of you on different places, smiling about how each photo still brought vivid unforgettable memories etched in your brain. You've been with him long enough that you yearned for him everyday he was away. But this was a different case, he usually updates you about stuff on a weekly basis, and the last time you heard from him was about a month ago.

You worried, but you trust him enough that it's just his job not allowing him to communicate to you for the time being. You were proud of the idea that he's out there fighting for the world, fighting for you but sometimes his absence leaves an empty unfilled void in you heart that was always full and fluttering when he's around.

You passed by the sashes labeled King and Queen of Prom, smiling at the idea that he actually dressed well because you told him it was once your childhood dream to become one. He wasn't the kind of guy to actually show off and be the center of attention but he did his best for the both of you to win it. You don't know how he won up against the campus heartthrob but he had his own ways.

You laid down in bed and slowly closed your eyes, remembering the events of that fateful night. How you face lit up when you got crowned along with him, how his hands locked against yours as he clumsily danced around the hall, laughing at how he's bad at it, and that kiss you shared on his father's pick up truck, which was different from the other kisses you shared. It was long, it was filled with passion, and your tongues didn't know what they were doing but they did it anyway.

Then you started to slip your hands through your bra, fingers circled around your slowly hardening nipples as you visualize a memory of the nearby lake. John brought you there to tell you that you were as beautiful as the moon tonight and the rest of the nights to follow. He wasn't a really expressive person, but you know he wrote a lot about you on his notebooks. And maybe that was one of its contents.

You squirmed a little as you set free your left breast, gripping it like how he gripped it from behind you as you held on to that huge tree by the lake. You were trying hard not to make a sound even though you want to scream all your feelings out. It was both your first time back there, you remember the sharp pain when he first slid inside you, you remembered the look on his face which assured you that everything will be fine. You remembered his whole being inside you, a symbol of his love for you.

You blindly reached out for your bedside drawer, looking for the thing you hold on to when he's away for too long. It was what kept you from looking for him, but it only works temporarily, as you stilk craved for his touch.

You quickly took off everything you wore, panting aggressively as the memory still played in your mind. You felt excited, as if you were inside the memory and you couldn't pass on this realistic opportunity.

Sliding the round tip against your opening, you slowly flicked the switch open as it whirred gently across your skin. You gasped in surprise and giggled guiding the device around the space between your legs.

You heard his soft groans and felt his fingers sink around your breasts as he slammed his hips toward you. On that moment, it didnt matter how your dress was on the floor or if people are going to notice what the two of you have been doing. You let all your emotions out as soon as he was deep inside you.

"John..." you whimpered. It was the only word you could remember, you turned back to him and saw him wearing only the sash and his crown under the moonlight, the view of the lake just beside him. His face was barely visible but you knew he looked gorgeous, his body was beautifully sculpted, as he told you that he wanted to join the military someday. A few more thrusts and he quickly ejects himself and shot his load on your back, the warm liquid slid down to your ass.

Then you snapped back to reality as you heard a loud thud by the door, dropping your toy on the ground and quickly grabbing the covers to wrap around your naked body.

Standing by the door was none other that John MacTavish, your boyfriend, he looked buffer than the last time you saw him and noticed some new scars on his face.

"John..." was all you could say. Your voice was barely audible as tears started to well from your eyes.

"Y/N..." he ran across the room, his boots loudly thumped on the wooden flooring. No other words were spoken, but your bodies tried to communicate everything with one long and passionate kiss. Tongues wrapped each other as they reunited after all those times, re-exploring every region like it was their first time. Your hands didn't know which part to hold first, his face whom you missed to see everyday, his strong arms which reminded you that he's going to protect you from everything, or his body that was there when you needed someone to feel comfortable with. You had a lot of choices but your hand went to something that you were yearning for at the moment. You cupped his already hard cock from his combat jeans and teasingly rubbed it's length, it grew sideways across his other leg and he grunted inside your mouth as you did it. He immediately broke the kiss as both of your lust-filled eyes stared at each other. You threw the covers that once wrapped you as you enjoy the feel of his eyes appreciating your body. He slowly reached out for his shoelaces and pulled each one of them while you unbutton his shirt excitedly. The boots flew along with his socks followed by his shirt. There was still on undershirt beneath it which was too tight that it hugged his whole body perfectly. You wanted to rip it apart but hesitated and slowly lifted it up instead. He raised his hands to help you out and you admired his hairy chest down to his six pack abs with a little trail of hair peeking right below his navel.

"See something ya like?" his thick accent entered your ears and sent shivers down your spine. He had a beautiful voice along with that accent and you always fall for it.

You remained quiet but your eyes say it all. You loved him ever since you two played as a kid, you loved him even when he told you he was going away for a while, and you will love him until the day you die.

John felt impatient at the pace you were undressing him. He respected that he wanted to enjoy every single second you two bonded but he had needs to attend to himself. Unbuckling his belt, he stripped off his pants along with his boxers letting his huge erect penis to spring out.

You giggled at his actions, ever since you lived together he always wanted the slow passionate style so you opted for that kind of welcome, now he was eager to do things fast maybe it was because of the time. You wanted to do it fast the moment you saw him again, but you also wanted to do what he liked. Now, you finally found the answer you were looking for.

Your eyes sparkled in delight as you looked up at him while your mouth sucked on his cock. He released a grunt of relief as his sexual frustration was finally satisfied, his hands held on to your head and guided you as you consume his entirety. You felt him push you more and you gagged and choked, making him chuckle in delight. You found it surprising but you liked the feeling nonetheless. Your mouth felt his warm cock and you circled it around your cheek like a toothbrush, momentarily taking it out of your mouth and pushing it back in.

After a few more entries he then pushed you to the bed, his cold blue eyes gazed at you, like he was a predator ready to consume you whole. You smiled at him, telling him you were ready to become prey as he aggressively spread your legs and let his mouth in.

You felt his excitement as his tongue circled around your pussy almost randomly. He didn't know which to lick first but as soon as you noticed it, he was already over the place. Soft moans escaped your lips as he teasingly bit off your other lips down there, his tongue easing the pain of the bite. You gripped the sheets as his tongue worked unfathomable acts on your pussy, and it felt even better when his fingers joined in.

You were panting hard and dripping wet, and MacTavish was there to witness it all. A sneaky smirk filled his face as he pulled your whole body effortlessly to the edge of the bed, locked his arms on your thick ass cheeks and lifted you up. He positioned his tip just above your opening, sliding it slowly to your entrance and slid it in. 

"Haaaaah" you gasped as you slowly felt his manhood inside you. He was standing up and carrying your whole body, but you see no signs of excessive effort in his face. This was all easy for him. Then his hips started thrusting, and each thrust sent you on a mind bending adventure as you locked your hands on his neck, tilted your head upward and let him fuck you senseless.

Your groans were like a porn acrtress', which was music to John's ears. A few more thrusts and he found himself on the edge, pushing it deep one last time before catching his breath. Your foreheads met and your lips found each other once again, you could feel your walls clench his thickness as he slowly ejects himself inside you, turning you around 180 degrees, making your cheeks slap his still erect cock. You were upside down and all you could see was his cock hanging between his legs. You giggled as his mouth already consumed your juices, and you started to suck on him upside down. You hands slowly massaged his balls, while you struggled to suck his cock on that position. It felt good but the rush of blood going to your head was distracting you. As soon as he's done, he flipped you back on his face and slowly set you back on the bed, spreading your legs and letting your feet rest on his shoulders.

John knelt on the bed and pointed his cock on your opening, rubbing it just atop your entrance, teasing you while laughing as he did it.

You opened your mouth to complain but before words could exit them, he immediately pushed himself in, making you moan in pleasure. The bed squeaked along with his movements, his hand reached for your breats which were bouncing along with his thrusts, he stopped them with a grip of a hand and continued to lower himself to your mouth. He once again kisses you passionately, to which you respond as you lock your legs on his back as he adjusts to slam your pussy downward. You felt him groan from inside your mouth as he picked up his pace sending you to pleasuretown once again. Your moans and gasps varied from excited to pleasure to this-actually-hurts but it was all worth it nonetheless.

"I missed you so much babe. You think you could reserve the whole day off for me. I still want to do more things to you." he whispered. You nodded in between his hard thrusts, which made you think of calling it sick tomorrow.

"Shit. I can't take it anymore. I'm almost there." he whispered worriedly. He didn't wanted this feeling to end yet. 

"John, let me taste all that pent up feeling.." you whimpered, words started to stutter as his thrusting grew faster.

Almost on the edge of release, John pulled his cock out and you immediately squeezed your breasts in between, signaling him to tit fuck you while you open your mouth and wait for release. John looked excited at your gesture and he positioned himself to do so, his hand helped his cock stay in between your breasts while the other one rested behind his head, flexing his muscles as he thrusts.

A few more thrusts and hot cum was ejected from his tip to your cheek, as he immediately grabbed it and pointed it in your mouth. The view of him groaning in release was another perfect addition to your memories with him.

He panted and laid down beside you leaving words of endearment, telling you how he missed you and how he will love you no matter what.

You smiled and told him what you have been feeling whispering to him that they still have more to catch up to. And that meant you two still have the rest of the day to get rid of that frustration.

[hurricanery]

If the Sun Comes Up - pt. 3

A/N: Sorry for the delay- here’s part 3 of If the Sun Comes Up! (AU - interns fic). It’s been a while since i’ve updated this so if you need a refresher, previous parts here: part 1 // part 2

If you’ve sent me a prompt recently, or even a while back, I promise I am starting to get to them. I’m on a break from school so I’m trying to write as much as I can <3 Also, I’m starting to switch around the POV for this story (this one is Link’s), and it’s very :) difficult :) to do :)

_______

It comes apart

The way it does in bad films

Except in parts

When the moral kicks in

_______

Link knows a few things.

The first is that Amelia Shepherd makes him nervous.

That’s something he knows. The reason behind it though, is a little less clear to him. She’s unpredictable. And he thinks that that’s part of it. Part of the reason his pulse quickens when she walks into the room. Sometimes, he’ll bump into her in the apartment, and she’ll be all darting eyes and nervous hands wrapped around a mug of tea. But most of the time, it’s the opposite. It’s shameless, the way she’ll walk into a room and say something completely audacious. Unexpected. Is the way he wants to label it. And the anticipation of it, the anticipation of which Amelia he’s going to get, is what makes him the most nervous.

This morning there’s an edge to her smile. One that feels measured and purposeful. Link watches her as she enters the kitchen. He finishes pouring himself a cup of coffee and witnesses, just in time, for Amelia to survey Maggie and Winston as they innocently eat their breakfast at the counter.

The smirk that grows on her face causes Link to instinctively brace himself. Because it’s the same look she gives before she’s about to say something completely untamed. Untamed, yet at the same time, Link knows whatever she’s about to say, she’ll say it so unashamedly. But when the words finally drop from her mouth, Link still doesn’t feel prepared.

“I miss sex,” she announces, as her eyes dart amusedly between the couple at the counter. “And you guys are doing a great job of reminding me of that.”

Link has to stifle the coughing fit that threatens to overcome his body as he struggles through his first sip of coffee. And the startled look on Maggie’s face just adds fuel to the fire. Like Amelia somehow gains something from this type of reaction.

“What’s with the faces?” she adds, nonchalantly, as she reaches for a mug and turns back to Maggie and Winston. “I’m saying I feel inspired by you.”

“Okay…” Maggie gives a warning stare. “But we’re not-”

“No, I get it,” Amelia interrupts. Link shuffles out of her way as she reaches for the coffee pot, but he doesn’t miss the sideways glance she gives him. “You guys aren’t together together, you’re just…” She trails off as she focuses on not overflowing her mug with the hot liquid. Then she turns back around to face the pair at the counter. “Having fun?”

Winston shrugs at this, and Maggie refocuses all of her attention on the food in front of her.

“Like I said,” Amelia’s expression falters only slightly to incorporate some sympathy towards Maggie. “Inspiring.”

And with that she turns on her heels, ready to leave. Like she always does. After dropping a bomb of awkwardness amongst the group, she immediately fleas. And Link feels his heart rate slow at her absence.

His eyes shift to Maggie and Winston, eyebrows raised.

“She’s pleasant in the morning.”

There’s hums of agreement, and Maggie stands up, beginning to clear their dishes.

“We carpooling today?” Link inquires, as he starts to help Maggie clean the kitchen.

“Well, there’s that intern mixer tonight,” Maggie reminds him. “That thing Dr. Webber is hosting?”

“Right,” Link sighs.

“I was going to go straight there after my shift,” she adds. “So, we’d all have to sort of plan our timing with that.”

Link nods, stepping forward to set his empty coffee mug in the sink.

“Will you ask Amelia what she’s doing? If she’s planning on going?”

Link nods again at Maggie’s request, and begins moving slowly down the hallway towards Amelia’s room. It dawns on him that he’s never stepped foot in Amelia’s room, or even properly had a glance inside. So, it feels foreign to him that his fist is knocking against the wood of her door.

“Yeah?”

There’s music playing on the other side and Link clears his throat to compensate for that.

“Hey! Maggie wanted me to ask you-”

“I can’t really hear you, just come in!”

Link hesitates. And he doesn’t know why. But then he’s annoyed with himself for not knowing why, so he pushes forward. His hand wraps around the door knob and then it’s twisting and suddenly he’s standing in her bedroom.

“Hey.”

His head turns to follow the sound of her voice and his eyes settle on her, to where she sits cross-legged on the floor in front of a full-length mirror. She raises her eyebrows at him, through the reflection in the mirror. And when Link doesn’t speak right away, she reaches forward to turn off her music.

“Can I help you with something?” She sounds smug as she resumes her mascara application.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry. Maggie wanted me to ask what your plans are for the intern mixer tonight?”

“Shit. I totally forgot that was tonight,” she mutters, concentrating on what she’s doing in the mirror.

Link sighs, and he feels the inexplicable need to shove his hands in his pockets. He takes a moment to let his eyes wander around the room. He can’t help it. The new territory makes him curious.

The room is a mess, and that’s putting it lightly. It almost looks like she hasn’t unpacked all the way. There are clothes scattered on almost every surface, and nothing seems to be put away. He’d like to assume that it’s because she’s not moved all the way in yet, but the pictures hanging on the wall say otherwise.

It feels self-indulgent, as he lets his eyes scan the framed photos around the room. They mostly consist of what Link gathers to be college friends and travels. But, there’s also a significant presence of people that look extraordinarily similar to Amelia. Her siblings, he presumes. There are two photos in particular, that stand out to Link. One consists of a young girl, no older than 6 or 7. In the photo, she’s riding a bike, and there’s a dark-haired teenage boy gently pushing the bike forward from behind. Derek, Link imagines. And it makes him smile to imagine Amelia learning to ride a bike.

The second photo that catches Link’s eye is just a solo shot of a middle-aged man. He’s standing on the edge of a dock, holding up a fishing pole. The man in the photo has a striking resemblance to Amelia and Derek, and Link is inclined to conclude that it’s their father.

Link snaps back to reality when he hears Amelia clear her throat. His eyes meet hers in the reflection of the mirror and she’s sneering at him incredulously.

“Get a good look?”

“Sorry,” Link mumbles, shaking his head at himself. He struggles for a moment to arrive back to his reasoning for being here in the first place. “Uh, yeah. Party tonight, or….‘intern mixer,’ or whatever you want to call it….do you need a ride?”

“Ugh,” she groans, starting to stand up from her spot on the floor. “Derek requested Lexie and I on his service, again, so. If we’re not too late I’ll probably grab a ride with him.”

Link nods. He tries to suppress the sudden disappointment he feels. Because it makes no sense to him, that he should feel anything based upon whether or not Amelia would be in attendance.

“Okay,” he turns on his heels, deciding he doesn’t need anything more than that answer from her.

“Link?”

He turns around in the doorway, looking at her expectantly.

“Maybe I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, but he forces an element of nonchalance to his response. She’s staring at him with an expression of bewilderment and it only makes him want to rush his exit more.

He rips his gaze away from hers as he steps into the hallway, and when he pulls the door shut, he feels relief.

_______

Links knows a few things.

The first is that Amelia Shepherd makes him nervous.

The second is that this party is lame.

“This sucks,” Jo huffs out a sigh, from where she’s standing next to him.

They’re stationed at one of those tall cocktail tables, in the middle of a decently packed banquet room. Link’s eyes scan the room, for what feels like the thousandth time that night.

“Who are you looking for?” Jo ridicules him. She smirks at him knowingly as she sips her drink and Link tries not to roll his eyes at her.

“I’m not looking for anyone….” He trails off, as his eyes roam the room again. Because although he dismisses the accusation of looking for anyone, he does find her.

She’s standing near the entryway with Derek. And they must have just arrived, because there’s a leather jacket still covering her frame.

He thinks for a moment that he should cross the room. Walk towards them and casually point out where the coat check area is, perhaps. But he doesn’t do that. Because the closer he looks, the more it becomes obvious that the two are arguing.

Amelia’s back is to him, but her body language, and the sharpness to Derek’s expression, are all the evidence he needs.

“You’re staring.” Jo’s voice breaks through his concentration, and Link glances sideways at her.

“Am not.”

“Are too,” she bites back. “And you’re boring me. I’m going to get another drink. Do you want one?”

Link shakes his head at the offer, his eyes returning to his current preoccupation. He barely notices Jo’s dramatic sigh, as she walks away. Barely notices, because now Amelia is crossing the room, her eyes narrowing in on his as she visibly tries to shake off her anger.

“You made it.” It’s all Link can come up with as she approaches the table.

Amelia huffs out an exasperated breath as she settles across from him at the table. She shrugs, her eyes dancing around the room as she takes in the atmosphere of the event.

“Of course I did,” she mutters. “I’m a blast at parties.”

Link frowns. Unsure of how to lighten the mood.

“There’s a coat check, you know?” He glances down at her, surveying the black form-fitting dress and leather jacket. He suddenly feels unimpressive in the dull grey of his suit jacket.

“Nah,” Amelia shakes her head, still preoccupied by the room around them. “I’m fine like this.”

Her eyes finally rest on his. And she breathes out again, but this time Link thinks it sounds more relieved.

“I really am a blast at parties,” she bites her lip, grinning slightly. “Or, I used to be.”

“I believe you,” Link offers a smile in return.

And suddenly there’s a sense of ease between them. One that Link wasn’t expecting.

There’s something about her, or rather about her demeanor, that makes him feel nostalgic. He takes in her energy and it makes him feel at home, but not necessarily in a yearning way. Because there’s an edge to it. Like the feeling he’s nostalgic for triggers an almost anxious familiarity in the pit of his stomach. Like home is broken.

“So, what is it?”

He hasn’t even realized he’s voiced the question out loud. It’s when her defensive tone kicks in, that he realizes what he’s done.

“What?”

Link groans internally. Because he hadn’t necessarily intended to speak on behalf of his revelation.

“You….remind me of….me, Amelia,” he mutters the confession, shaking his head at himself as he tries to make sense of the direction his thoughts are taking. “Like a sixth sense almost….”

She quirks an eyebrow at him, but doesn’t offer any words. The silence urges Link to continue.

“Okay, no. I mean, you don’t remind me of me, totally. I just mean….”

“We are very different people,” she interrupts him. And it causes Link to look up from the pattern of the tablecloth he’d forced himself to analyze while he stumbled through his words. But he locks eyes with her, and there’s a smug smile on her face. It basically grants him permission to move forward.

“Yeah,” he chuckles in agreement. “But there’s some common ground here. I can feel it.”

Link tries to match her smirk, but he knows he’s not doing it any justice.

“So, what is it?” He repeats his question from earlier, his tone playful. “That makes you this way?”

There’s a fraction of a second where her face falls, in reaction to the additional question. It’s so subtle Link thinks he’s imagined it. Because he’s looking at her now, and the smirk is still there. So he continues.

“Doesn’t seem like you get along with your family,” he nods towards Derek across the room, to where he’s now stood chatting with Mark Sloan. “And from my experience, that kind of thing usually happens for a reason.”

Amelia shrugs dismissively, and reaches forward for a handful of pretzels from the array of snacks on the table.

Link watches her, notes her form of deflection, and he takes it upon himself to start lighthearted. Because that’s where they are right now. That’s the stage they always seem to be stuck in. “You….what? Scratched your brother's car up? Forgot to feed the family’s pet fish? And everyone still holds it against you? What is it, huh?”

Amelia stifles a laugh around a mouthful of pretzels, and it urges Link on.

“I’m getting closer, aren’t I? Should I dive deeper?”

Link tries not to laugh at her, as she struggles to chew the pretzels in her mouth. He lets himself be relentless, continuing with the interrogation.

“Okay, so….some sort of chronic diagnosis tear your family apart?” Link glances across the room as he speaks, and his eyes settle on Derek. There’s a snide expression on Derek’s face as he talks to Mark, and all Link sees is Amelia in it. His eyes dart back to hers as potential realization hits. “Children of divorce?”

Amelia immediately stops chewing her pretzels. And this time around it’s not as subtle when her face falls.

“Children of divorce! I knew it! I told you I could sense that kind of thing.”

Link is proud of himself for a moment. Until he watches her harshly swallow. It’s the kind of action that makes him instantly retreat. Instantly regret his exclamation.

Amelia finally finds her voice. And when she does, it’s laced with irony. “I wish it had been a divorce.”

And now it was Link’s turn for the silence. For the lack of response that would hopefully urge her to continue.

“Your parents are divorced?” There’s something cunning about her tone, and Link can’t quite place why it’s there. It surely doesn’t sound like a question, when she asks it. It sounds like she already knows the answer, and she’s choosing to be sly as she witholds whatever she’s about to throw his way next.

But Link nods at her anyway, disregarding the non-question.

“Wanna trade childhood traumas?” She eventually mutters, a slight smile on her lips as she looks down at the bowl of pretzels. Link can see it in her face, the way she’s determining whether to abandon the conversation and reach for another handful. But she doesn’t do that.

He continues to stare at her, in a desperate attempt to decipher which version of Amelia this is.

“My Dad died when I was five,” her gaze shifts from the pretzels to his face and Link’s heart drops to his stomach. “So, he kind of missed out on the divorce stage....” She laughs under her breath, almost in disbelief. “Not that there would have been one,” she adds the after-thought.

“Amelia,” he murmurs. And he thinks he steps forward, but there’s a table in front of him, blocking him, so there’s really no point. “I’m so sorry, I-”

It’s her laughter that cuts him off mid-apology. Link doesn’t know if he can categorize it as authentic laughter. The bizarre reaction would probably be more accurately described as harsh exhales and another out of place smile.

“Amelia.”

She swallows her laughter a bit at the seriousness of his tone.

“God, I feel like an asshole,” he mutters.

“Okay, but don’t,” Amelia shrugs. “Believe me I’ve had years to process it.”

Link feels his eyes narrow at this.

“And honestly I’m pretty impressed you could sense the childhood trauma in the first place,” she adds. “Maybe we’re more alike than I thought….” She trails off, and there’s a softness to her next words. “And I don’t at all mean to downplay yours….I just….have a dark sense of humor. Sometimes I forget that it can put people off.”

“No, I get it.”

Link watches as a subtle grin take over her expression, and he sighs in relief. But he can’t help but to notice how distracted she is. How her eyes keep shifting around the room.

“This party is kinda lame, huh?” Link muses. “I was going to head home soon. Want a ride?”

For a moment her wandering eyes stop, and Link thinks her smile looks polite. It doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Yeah,” she murmurs, distracted again. “I feel like I should make the rounds first though, right? Say hello to a few people?”

Link nods. Because this makes sense.

“Give me like 20 minutes, okay? And then we can leave?”

“Okay,” Link agrees, but she’s already walking away by the time he says it.

_______

Link knows a few things.

But there’s one fact at the forefront of his mind.

This party is lame and he wants to leave. He’s promised a ride home to Amelia, but it’s been over an hour and since then, he’s completely lost track of her.

He gives up. Assumes she’s gotten a ride home with either Derek or Lexie.

He makes his way to the parking lot and he hears her voice first. It’s low and it’s gravelly and it’s certainly Amelia.

But it’s perplexing, because the first person he sees is Mark, and not Amelia.

But then Mark steps to the side, and there she is.

He watches, and he hasn't realized that his feet have stopped moving. But his eyes are glued the same way his shoes apparently are to the pavement below.

She’s smiling at Mark, but the look she’s giving him makes Link feel gross. Because it’s almost performative, the way she gets into his car. And suddenly there's another thing that Link knows.

That being, that for some reason, this hurts.

_______

It’s more accurate to say that Link has learned a few things. Especially since moving in with 3 strangers.

He’s learned the separate soundtracks of each of his roommate’s arrivals home.

He can tell when Maggie is home, because she usually mutters to herself as she walks about, hanging her purse and coat up.

He can tell when Lexie is home, because the first thing she does is walk to the kitchen. Link will hear the distinct sound of the fridge door opening just after someone comes home, and immediately he knows that it’s Lexie.

He can tell when Amelia is home, because of the clacking sound her boots make across the tiled floor of the entryway. He doesn’t know why she always seems to be wearing the heeled boots, but he finds comfort in the association.

Another thing he’s learned is that he’s usually the first to wake up in the apartment. Especially on Saturdays.

He likes waking up early on the weekends, but this morning feels a little different. Definitely due to the lack of sleep the night prior. He wants to blame the restless night on anything else, besides the fact that he’s yet to hear a pair of heeled boots cross the tiled floor.

Link seeks distractions on this Saturday morning. He thinks he’ll make breakfast. But, the relative emptiness of the fridge causes a change of plans.

And so he distracts himself by going to the store.

_______

When Link returns home, he’s not expecting to see Amelia right away.

He walks towards their front door, arms full of grocery bags, and there she is. Leaning against the wall outside and watching him carefully as he approaches.

She’s wearing the same dress she wore last night, her leather jacket slung over her arm.

“Well, good morning,” he tries to mask the sharpness in his tone.

She looks at him tiredly.

It’s then that he decides to give her the benefit of the doubt. He’d had a feeling in the pit of his stomach all night. He’d lost sleep over it. But he looks at her now, and everything he’s been feeling is replaced with one thing: concern.

So he re-routes his attitude.

“You waiting out here just so you could hold the door open for me?” He jokes, gesturing towards the bags in his arms.

“I lost my keys,” she admits.

Link notices the way she can’t seem to hold eye contact, and he decides to drop the joking manner.

“Ah,” he hums. “Here.”

He unceremoniously shoves a grocery bag into her arms, so that he can free up a hand to reach for his own keys.

He unlocks the door and Amelia basically darts past him, setting the bag on the counter and heading towards her room.

Link tries not to feed into his concern, and he busies himself by putting groceries away.

But, a moment later, he hears the familiar sound of her heels against the floor. The sound amplifies until she rounds the corner into the kitchen again, and Link looks up just in time.

She looks at him sheepishly.

“I, uh. I have so much stuff all over my bed….you don’t mind if I take the couch for a bit, do you?”

It takes Link a moment to process this information. He glances past the kitchen counter, to the living room area. It’s all pretty much one big room, an open floor plan.

“Be my guest,” he murmurs. “I was about to make breakfast though, so, hopefully I don’t bother you too much over here?”

Amelia shakes her head, as if to say she won’t be bothered, and she continues over to the living area.

“You should really….unpack all your stuff. Put things away,” Link jokes, recalling just how messy her room was as of yesterday morning.

“‘M too tired right now,” she slurs, as she collapses against the couch on the opposite wall.

Link attempts to carry on making breakfast. But he’s admittedly distracted by her presence.

She doesn’t look comfortable. She’s still wearing her dress from last night. And she’s sitting upright, her head tilted back against the cushions.

“I could help you, you know?” Link offers. “Put away your things and clear off your bed?”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“Amelia, it’s 9am.”

This makes her laugh.

Her eyes are still closed but she’s laughing under her breath.

“Oh!” Suddenly Link remembers. “I saw this loose tea variety at the store and it made me think of you and I bought it.”

Even with the length of the room, Link can tell she’s slightly opened her eyes, peering at him.

“How about I attempt to make some? And we do some unpacking?”

There’s brief silence. But then her head is lifting from the cushions.

“Okay, but make your breakfast first.”

Link breaks out into a toothy grin, nodding at her suggestion. He watches curiously as her head drops back against the couch.

_______

It’s about 20 minutes later when he’s eaten and decides he’s happy with his attempt at tea. He walks over to the couch, proudly balancing two mugs, but it’s obvious that Amelia is drifting off to sleep.

He places a mug on the coffee table in front of her and the sound of it causes her to stir.

“Oh,” she sits up. “This looks….decent. Thank you.”

Link sits on the armchair across from her and watches as she takes her first sip.

“You’re allowed to say if it’s shit.”

Amelia exhales a laugh before setting the mug back down.

“It’s not bad, honestly. I’ll have to teach you my ways, though.”

She rests back against the cushions, and this time she shifts her body so that she’s more comfortably laying across the entire couch.

Link sighs.

And it’s like she hears what he’s thinking.

“Just a few minutes, then we’ll start unpacking,” but her voice is laced with sleep. She turns to him, her mouth twisting up in a familiar movement, and her eyebrows raising almost provocatively. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Ugh,” Link groans. “I do not need to hear about you and Mark-”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she laughs a breath. “I had to.”

Link just shakes his head at her, not sure when he went from worried about her, to amused.

“I promise,” she adds, and the element of exhaustion is back in her tone. “Just 10 more minutes then I’ll be good to go.”

“Sure,” Link laughs.

Amelia still holds his gaze, and there’s an expression on her face that feels brand new to him.

There’s a hint of a smile. It’s barely there. But it’s different this time. It’s not the smirk he’s used to seeing, and it’s not in any way laced with mockery or self-doubt.

Link knows a few things.

But he learns a final thing by the end of the conversation. He learns that he’s going to do everything he can, to see the version of her smile that’s the most genuine.

//

[skzafterdusk]

kim seungmin + “I Love It”

This was requested from the Dean Title Track Prompt List I posted where you can pick an SKZ member and a song for a drabble fic

Word Count: 2.9k (idk if that’s considered drabble length)

Tag: kitchen sex, college!au, photographer!Seungmin

Summary: You and Seungmin rent a high-rise apartment for his birthday weekend. And, well, birthday sex...’nuff said.

You and your boyfriend checked into the apartment earlier this morning, wanting to spend some time together before he headed to the one class he had on Fridays. It was no burden to him, of course; an intermediate portrait photography course that he’s been so engrossed in.

But that only meant, shortly after you guys settled into your home for the weekend, Seungmin was pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before leaving you there alone.

You had taken painstaking care looking for the best apartment to rent, wanting something with tons of natural light that you and Seungmin got drunk on, but also a view of your fabulous city, Seoul. This was the gift you settled on for his 20th birthday which, unfortunately, fell on a weekday where both of you would be too busy with classes. 

The view, as you hoped, was incredibly lovely. From the wall of windows in the living room, you were able to see the sun as it continued to rise over the city. It was so calming, in fact, that you decided a nap would be in order after you took the time to unpack Seungmin’s and your stuff. The close you brought, the fruits and vegetables you washed, your favourite ground coffee sat next to the coffee machine.

It’s almost as if you guys actually lived there. Having a dream be a reality for so short of time could definitely be the spark to motivate you once you had to go back to the real world. 

And so, a couple hours later, you finally went to the bedroom, laying on top of the covers so as not to disturb anything too much, and allow the unfamiliar serenity of the new place lull you to much needed rest…

Maybe you’ve been slowly coming to for some time now, the room just as silent as it had been when you fell asleep. But even with your eyes closed, the presence of another life redistributes the quiet, makes an empty space feel more full.

And it’s the familiar sound of a light shutter that makes you blink until your eyes flutter open.

The room is much warmer than it had when you initially fell asleep. Even in the shadows of the bed frame, Seungmin seems to radiate the glow like the sun that is clearly setting from the windows behind you.

And, much like you had expected, Seungmin’s white camera is in his hands, a soft smile on his lips as he inspects the photo before looking up again.

He’s crouched down so your faces almost entirely leveled, close so he doesn’t have to raise his voice.

“You just looked so peaceful and beautiful,” he explains. “Wanna see it?”

You lift yourself onto your elbow so you can lean forward as he shows you the camera screen. And there’s a grin on your lips before you even notice.

Despite the subject, it’s still a wonderful composition, the sun a vibrant and warm orange spilling rays through the floor to ceiling walls behind the bed. The burst floats above your darker silhouette, but your relaxed features are still distinguishable.

“I love it,” you say. Your hand is already reaching for his face, wanting to kiss him while the serenity of the moment is still present.

You both drink in the moment, both are slow to press your lips to eachother’s and even slower to pull away.

“Happy Early Birthday, Minie.”

“What do you have planned for me this weekend?”

With that question, you readjust yourself, sitting up. Seungmin follows suit, coming to sit next to you on the bed while you explain the plan for the night.

“I figured we would cook our meal for tonight. So we’ll need to go to the market to buy meat. And we can get you a cake, as well.”

With the plan set, you both went about freshening up, Seungmin wanting to rid himself of the simple clothes he’d worn to university for the day, and you adding the smallest of makeup just to make yourself more put together.

Going to the market together reminded you of when you’d first started dating, Seungmin insisting on cooking for you because you were both young college students that didn’t have the means to always eat out. When you got back to his dorm, that was when you discovered that maybe his cooking skills relied more on ambition than technique. 

Even though it’s been a year and a half, it feels like so much has gone down since then. From sharing classes to being on opposite sides of campus, from late night study dates or photography adventures, you’ve grown to know Seungmin to a point where imagining him not in your life is kind of impossible.

“I’ll start prepping the vegetables,” he states matter-of-factly once you guys are back at the apartment. By now, the sun is further behind the city. You need to turn on the ceiling lights for proper illumination, and you’re seeing this space in a (literally) new light.

“Hey,” Seungmin calls to you, putting a hand on your elbow. You realize, then, that your mind had begun to wander, staring at your reflection in the window across the room. “What are you thinking about?”

It was a commonplace question for the two of you. Similar in the way that both of you tended to stay in your own heads, you both understood that all it took was a simple question to bring you back and converse with each other. You’d be lying if you hadn’t spent some nights just appreciating that aspect alone.

When you look at him, you smile wide, quickly popping up to kiss him on the jaw.

“I’m just really happy we met.” There is no other way to put it, even if it comes out bluntly. Even though the confessions of being in love with eachother have come and gone, it wasn’t common for you to just say those words. It was said in different ways; in the way he told you to worry about an assignment late and focus on yourself now, the way you asked him about whatever project he was working on in his photography class. Sometimes, like now, though, the words just need to be said as plainly and complex as they are.

“I love you.”

With his hand still on your arm, he pulls you into his chest. “I love you,” he repeats.

The moment passes easily and smoothly, and soon the kitchen is filled with a cacophony of sounds: meat sizzling in a pan, the overhead fan whirring to combat all the steam and smoke wafting the air. A jazz playlist blares from his phone on the island. Everything is so picture perfect, you think absently.

Seongmin must think this, as well, as he holds his camera up to his eye. You don’t even know when he retrieved it, but now he’s having a shoot of his own, taking shots that you can’t fathom look all that nice, but they’re endearing.

You turn the stove off as the meat finishes cooking, impatiently grabbing a piece to taste.

“Hey! Already starting without me?” teases Seungmin as he puts his camera down.

You scoff. “Head chef always gets to taste first.” At the playful pout on your boyfriend’s lips, concede easily. “But siux chef gets to taste, too.” And you feed him a piece he eagerly takes.

You don’t even bother taking the food over to the dining table, nor do you bother with using plates and dishes. Possibly you didn’t realize how hungry you both were, but there’s something so nice about just standing there, talking in between bites, laughing about random anecdotes.

“Is it time for birthday cake?” Despite phrasing it as a question, you’re already rounding towards the refrigerator where you’d put it once you got back from the store.

There’s arms suddenly wrapping around your waist, his chin hooking on your shoulder from behind.

“We have all weekend for cake. Kinda want you for dessert.”

Despite his words, you scrunch your nose up, looking at him awkwardly from where his face is. “Your reasoning is flawed, sir. You can have me all weekend, too.”

And, really, he shouldn’t look as adorable as he does when he raises his brows and widens his eyes. “Really? All weekend? It really must be my birthday.”

Your elbow is light to jab him from behind at his cheesy words. But he only gives enough room for you to turn in his hold. Your hands slide to rest on the back of his neck, your fingers having a mind of their own as they start to play with the hair there.

“And you ‘kinda’ want me? You’re gonna have to know for sure, Min,” you playfully reprimand. 

His eyes darken, smile falling from his lips. It’s an expression that commands attention, and you obey effortlessly.

“I’m still hungry, (Y/N),” he starts, his voice low. “How about I eat you, instead?”

You hum. “Cannibalism. Sexy.”

Luckily, he doesn’t pay much attention to your words, only swoops down to pull you into a heated kiss that leaves you breathless. He’s quick to lick his tongue along your bottom lip, dives in when given the slightest entry. Even though this is nowhere near your first time, your body always ignites with desire at how strong his passion drives him forward.

You lock your arms around his neck when his grip on your waist grows stronger, begging your body to be flushed against his. Pesky clothing aside, you can feel the heat of his body, the way his chest heaves with yearning for oxygen that comes as second priority to just consuming you.

But when he does break away, it’s to switch your positions, the island digging into your lower back as he goes back in. He tilts your head, licking into your mouth behind your teeth. He swallows the moan his actions illicit. They taste sweet going down, if it wasn’t obvious by the way he does it again and again.

You beg him softly. “Do something, please.” Sometimes he makes you impatient, makes you need him now. And just as you obey him, he never denies you what you want.

A normally gentle man turns quite wild, his hands heavy as they work to rid you of your shirt and bra. Your chin tucks into your shoulder while his lips trail down the other side, biting and kissing at your exposed skin. Your half-lidded eyes catch that reflection you admired earlier. The night now almost completely blackened with a sunless sky. Even though a world lives outside that window, all you can see is the scene it showcases.

You with your man buried in your neck, his fist clenched to the edge of the counter beside you.

Just as quickly, he brings you back to this moment in your own skin when he brings his lips back to yours. Now it’s your turn to work on his shirt, immediately going for his pants next. Without much fanfare, you wrap your hand around his hardening length, feeling a chill run down your spine at the harsh gruff it sparks from his throat.

“Later,” he says after some time of you languidly squeezing him up and down. “Worry about that later. Hop on the counter.”

You listen wordlessly, pulling yourself up until you’re sat on the edge of the surface. You start with your pants as Seungmin goes to a bag sitting on the floor next to you, where he pulls out a bottle of lube.

The moments slow, or maybe you’re just so focused on your boyfriend, but every move he takes, you register it in anticipation. Even as he fills your space, somehow crowds around you, you can hear the click of the bottle cap, 

What doesn’t cross your mind is how closely he’s watching you, as well. Surely, some of it is making sure that he takes care of you, but it’s also just because you can be much more expressive than you are verbal. And it’s so delicious to watch the way your brows twitch when he slides the first finger in, quickly following with the second. 

On some other nights, he’d take his time. Maybe you can save that for tomorrow, or when you make it to the bedroom for the night. Right now, however, his thumb is already on your clit, pleasure shooting through your nerves in the best way possible. It’s the type of pleasure that brews underneath the surface, and you can feel the way it bubbles up in your core.

He opens you nice, spreading his fingers inside you while rubbing circles on your bundle of nerves. When he curls his fingers inside, you jerk forward, arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers carding into his strands and fisting there.

He groans at the way you clench around him, the way you feel so wound up. Should he let you cum now, with his fingers alone? 

“Cum, baby. Cum for me,” he whispers into your ear. You nod senselessly, feeling your walls fight to suck him in so you can never let him go.

When your orgasm finally comes, soft whimpers tremble from your open mouth. He removes his fingers slowly, knowing you’re still sensitive.

Slowly, you come to, sensing the world around you. The jazz music still lulls on, quiet sounds of brass and string instruments. 

But you don’t want to come down so soon. So you lift your head from where it rests on his shoulder. His gaze is still lustfilled, and your muscles jump, still wanting more.

“Fuck me, please?” It comes out as a question, though you both know it’s a given. One of your hands slither between your bodies, going back to your earlier action of stroking him. He’s already hard, and your mind drifts to the thought of him fucking you. 

In that moment you take over, mind still foggy from your orgasm. You fumble for the bottle of lube, unceremoniously putting some on your hand and wrapping it around his cock to slick him up.

With his eyes clenched shut, he rests his forehead against yours, taking a second to breathe before letting you guide him inside, taking him in entirely.

And your body never gets used to him, never gets used to how he seems to encompass you, makes you forget where your body ends and his begins. He must be magical to make you incoherent in this manner.

His thrusts start off slow and hard, almost like he’s savouring the feeling of you around him. And it’s tantalizing, the way his cock feels. Your body just wants to inhale him in any way possible. So you wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him even closer so he can just grind into you. The moan you let out is long and sweet to his ears, makes him want to hear more, taste more.

You kiss as best you can, one hand digging into your waist to keep you steady, while the other makes its way between your bodies. 

“Fuck, fuck-” you moan out at the feeling of his fingers rubbing at your clit. It’s painful the way the pleasure gets dragged through you again. But you love it, love the way it confuses your senses to the point that you can’t help but breathe out an airy laugh.

“(Y/N),” groans out Seungmin into your ear. “Shit you feel so good.”

His thrusts become irregular, and soon you find yourself trying to hold off, counting down the breaths until he finally cums, fucking into you so hard that you know you’ll be able to feel him.

And when that happens, your orgasm cums out through the trembles of your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. He kisses you breathlessly as you both come down, still connected and basking in the moment of you intertwined.

When you pull back, you grin. “Happy Early Birthday,” you say again. You’re sure he’ll hear it a few times this weekend.

He smirks, finally pulling away. It always feels weird at first, to be empty. But he still remains close, and it’s enough.

“Happy, indeed.” His gaze stays on you, searching. 

It’s your turn to inquire, “What are you thinking about?”

He gives a heavy sigh, and you ready yourself for some heartfelt words that will sound incredibly cheesy.

“I think I want cake now.”

You shove his chest automatically, giggling just as he does. 

“How about we shower first. You never like the feeling of bodily fluids drying on you.”

He turns his nose up. “Why do you have to call them ‘bodily fluids’? That just sounds nasty.”

“Should I just say you need to clean your dick, then?”

Your legs feel like jelly when you slide down from the counter top, but you regain your strength quickly, walking back to the bathroom down the hall. Seungmin follows close behind, complaining about your phrasings.

When he grabs you from behind, your peripheral catches the reflection coming from the window in the bedroom. To feel so free in this way, you know this kind of life you could easily acclimate to. And just as you suspected, this is the plan for the future: to love him as he loves you, to be in your own world with him as everything around you keeps going.

Val’s Note:

Somehow this ended up being perfect timing since our Seungmin’s birthday is coming soon! It seems like the Seungmin smut tag is lacking, and I understand why. He’s normally just this adorable guy, even when he’s not meaning to be. But we’re not about to just fly by him during this era in particular??? Hello????

If you’d like to make a request for the Dean Title Track fic, you can do so, here!

[joshslater]

Foreign Exchange

This is a re-release since the previous version got blocked for unknown reasons. I’m not going to bother to find yet another photo that doesn’t break the content rule, so you’ll have to imagine the lower part of a slim, white guy wearing red trunks with the outline of a massive penis. Or read the original story and more on my Patreon.

It all started in what was supposed to be a one week stay in Cape Town. I don't know what the airline had smoked, but a round trip from Europe sold for almost nothing during a few hours. Probably some clerical error in the pricing department. Whatever the reason, I shuffled some tasks around and manage to arrange myself a one week spring vacation. I had no idea of what to expect. Only thing I knew about South Africa was the Kruger Park, the worlds first heart transplant, excellent red wines, Apartheid and Mandela.

It started out amazing. I found a cheap place in Green Point, close to lots of the tourist places, and started to drink my way through South African wine bottles. It was on the third evening I made the wrong move. No, life altering move.

I was heading back to the hotel after some late evening sea side action. I had emptied a particularly good bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, rich with those mineral tones so prevalent in most South African wines. I was slightly sun burned, possibly lost and decidedly round footed when I walked up to two well dressed white men beating the shit out of black kid.

- Hey, stop that!

I said before my brain had fully reengaged. They did stop. One of the men stared right at me, eyes filled with disdain.

- What you say?

I didn't have time to answer him when something hard hit the back of my head with a thud and everything lost focus and disappeared.

When I came to everything was black and my head hurt like hell. I was lying awkwardly, hands bound behind my back, feet tied together, and some sort of bag tied around my head. The sound made me think I was in someones trunk, but I guess it could have been a van or a covered pick up flat bed just as well. In any event, the vehicle was running fast on what I assumed to be a highway. After a bit of struggle I concluded that I was not just bound up, but also tied down and couldn't move much at all. After a boring hour or so still drunk me slipped back into sleep.

Next time I woke up the vehicle was standing still. I was still as tied up as before, but I could hear someone speaking Afrikaan a few steps away. He came close, shuffled some things around, and then I felt a small prick on my arm. I barely had time to realize it was some sort of injection when I lost consciousness again.

Regaining consciousness was quite different third time around. I still couldn't see anything, but I could feel some swim style goggles around my head, probably blacked out. Now I was lying more properly on a firm bed or padded table. I tried to move, but like before I was tightly restrained. This time it felt more professional, like cuffs around arms and legs, and some kind of material pushing against the chest. And I was naked, I think. It was hard to determine, as the temperature was nice and I couldn't move, but I couldn't feel any clothes on my body. I tried to say "hello", but nothing came out.

This quickly became incredibly boring. I couldn't see or feel much. The smell was basically just some generic clean smell of faint detergent. With sounds there were a bit more variation. I could hear some HVAC rumbling once every 5 minutes, or so I guessed. In addition there was a constant low humming in the room. I could hear some faint sounds from outside the room. Perhaps infrequent cars coming and leaving outside the building.

By my estimate I was at least into the third wake hour when suddenly a door opened and I could hear a conversation between the two men who entered the room. They sounded quite far away, so the room was probably large.

"...so many in the database?"

"We use five key measurements combined into one value as sorting key. The circumference and length, both on flaccid and erect, are approximated into two cylinders. Balls are approximated as spheres. Then we just multiply the three volumes together to make the sorting key. First selection priority is of course bio-compatibility, but this size metric allows for fast selection within that set. It only brings candidates though. The final decision is more complex, of course."

"Complex how?"

"Well, let's ask the doctor himself. His coming here."

A third person entered the room.

"You talking about me?"

"Yes, we were just discussing the selection criteria"

"Ah. Well, since this is a demonstration we want to be bold, while being mindful of proportions and aesthetics. In addition to appearance we want to maximize as many of the secondary factors as possible from the paper. For this one we landed in using the Congo supply."

They were standing right next to me now. The "doctor" continued.

"So this is the subject. The first agent is being administered right now, as you can see. Any questions?"

I tried to say something. Anything. But only wheezing air came out.

"Is he trying to speak?", asked the first voice.

"No, he isn't. Come, let's look at the model", replied the doctor, and they left the room as quickly as they entered it.

6-8 HVAC cycles later I heard the door open again and several people walking into the room. I heard a women's voice close to me saying "Everything is green. Go ahead." and I again lost consciousness.

The room was barely furnished, completely white and bathed in light when I opened my eyes.

"Oh, how good. You are awake."

I heard a female voice in a strong South African accent. I turned my head and saw a fat, black South African lady smiling at me. I was super confused. I was in a hospital bed, but this didn't really look like a hospital, and she didn't look like a nurse.

"Wheh...", was as far as I managed on "Where am I" before my voice gave out.

"You need to drink a lot. Here, let me help", said the lady and gave me something that looked like a hospital version of a gym bottle. As I drank she continued.

"You had a traffic accident. Nothing serious. Just a concussion, so you were dismissed from the hospital to make room. This is a recovery home."

I was gulping water. Man, was I was thirsty. "Where are we?" I asked.

"Just outside the city, so still close to Johannesburg."

That's like at least 10 hours away from Cape Town. What the fuck had happened?

"What day is it?"

"It's Thursday today, dear. I'll go and get something for you to eat", the fat lady answered, and started to move towards the door.

Something just didn't feel right. It was Wednesday evening when I was kidnapped. "No, what date?"

"Thursday the 28th", she said from the door.

A whole fucking week.

I felt a sucking black hole in my gut. The lady seemed nice, but there was no way I would trust her right now. Perhaps she believed everything she had just told me, but clearly some things were not true. My head felt fine, as opposed to the last time I was conscious, but what about the rest? I didn't feel any restraints, just my body in a hospital gown, under some white sheets. In fact, nothing hurt anywhere. Just thirsty, still, hungry and a need to piss.

I could see a different door in another wall than the nurse had just left through. Presumably a private toilet for this small recovery room. A pair of slippers stood next to the bed, so I threw off the blankets began to sit up and swing out my legs. That's when I first felt it. It was weird feeling, familiar, but yet very different.

I quickly kicked my feet into the slippers and carefully, still a bit woozy, shuffled into the bath room. It was surprisingly roomy. Well, perhaps not surprisingly, given the number of people with casts, wheelchairs and whatnot passing through. But it had plenty of room around the toilet seat and sink, and a full length mirror next to the sink, presumably for wheel chair bound people.

I raised the gown from my knees to expose my front, and just stared for a several seconds to fully understand what I saw. My dick and balls were gone. In its place was the largest, most aggressively male genitalia I had ever seen, even in pictures. The massive dick went almost down to my knees, and thick as a can of red bull. And even though it was completely flaccid it was veiny as cabbage and the outlines of a massive head was clearly visible through the uncut foreskin.

Behind the dick were two softball sized testicles hanging low, but unevenly so. It was all topped off with a large bush of coarse hair. And all of it, the hair, the balls and the dong, where dark chocolate black.

I just stared in disbelief. Then tentatively I touched the penis. Yep, it was real and it was now apparently mine. Standing straight my hands couldn't even reach halfway down to the tip. My mind caught up with reality and was filling with questions. Who did this? Why did they do this? How did they do this? Isn't there organ rejection? Aren't you supposed to eat some sort of pills forever after receiving a transplant? Are there even any pants I can wear anymore? Did baller shorts just become underwear?

I went to the toilet and emptied my bladder. It worked fine. Better than fine even, as aiming just became a lot easier with such a hose, although using paper involved lifting. Lifting! I could feel that it was much more sensitive than what I was used to, and felt it starting to come alive. I quickly dropped it and went back to bed. Just as I did lunch arrived.

Once fed, and having checked with the care taker, Amahle, that she wouldn't be back for two hours, I decided to try out my new dong. Tissues were already on the side table. I sat up in bed, kicked off the sheet and had another look under the gown. I was again taken aback with the sight. It wan't just massive, but somehow everything, length, girth, balls, looked to be in proportion. I must admit that I haven't spent much time thinking about, looking at or describing cocks, but the first words that came to mind were aggressive, intimidating and virile. The black skin made it even more so, as the light from the window created contrasting highlights on the veins.

Carefully I looked at the border, where the black skin met my pasty, white body. Rather than a sharp line, as I had expected, there was a narrow gradient where one color blended over to the other. How on earth was this done? It looked like perhaps a decades old surgery where the scar had long since gone soft.

I resumed where we left off in the bathroom, slowly stroking it. It reacted right away, and apparently was a grower as well as a shower. Holy fuck was it massive. I just lied in bed and over perhaps 20 minutes had the best wank in my life. I have no idea whose dick I was giving a handjob, but this was clearly his loss and my gain. It was filled to the brim with nerve endings, making every stroke amazing. Or perhaps it was designed and grown in a lab somewhere? In that case, props to the cocksmith.

The head was leaking precum like crazy, sending small droplets of man lube for every noisy slosh of foreskin riding up and down the head. I was probably suffering from some sort of auto-erotic asphyxiation with so much blood displaced, but I managed to be amazed over how long I lasted, in the fog of pleasure.

When I finally couldn't keep it contained anymore, I erupted in rope after rope of cum going everywhere. On my chest, in my face, and some overshooting me all together. As I was catching my breath, sweaty and sticky, I was thinking about what to tell Amahle. Or if I should get up and do some attempts to clean up the mess first. I realized I had plenty of problems ahead of me. Cleaning up, getting home, ever wearing pants again, figuring out how to use toilets. But at least there and then I could not care less.

[solasignora]

He Walks in Starlight

Tags: bong jaehyun x reader, vaguely Star Trek inspired, mostly just a sci-fi au

Length: 2.1k words

First time writing a scenario/imagine so excuse my amateur writing. I really just wrote this for fun lol

Your eyes felt blurry as they struggle to open while you hear the tone of your alarm go off. It felt cold and all you wanted to do was lay under your blanket where it was warm and cozy. You sighed as you turned off your alarm. You looked at the calendar displayed on a screen. Star date 21499.2. You flattened down your disheveled hair before getting up to get ready.

The Compass was business as usual. The ship's bustling crew members were all at work. You went down to the records department to start your day of organizing files and data logs when you saw a rather tense figure standing at the door. It was a young man your age. He stood rather agonizingly. Once he got a glimpse of you he looked like a deer in headlights. Confused, you walked over to unlock the records lab. “Excuse me,” he said with a surprisingly deep voice. “Are you in the department of records?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.” you said after swiping your card. The door automatically slid open and both of you walked in. You sat and turned on the computer. He only stood in front of the desk where you were stationed.

“These are my files, I’m new.. just transferred from the Miracle.” he explained while handing over some rectangular discs. You took the discs from his slender hands and put them into your computer for analyzing.

[ Bong Jaehyun

Age: 22 Earth Years

Birth Place: Seoul, SK, Earth

Specialty: Geography and Cartography

*** ]

You looked at his photo and then looked up at him. Spitting image, no doubt he was legit. He’s quite handsome in your opinion. His eyes looked like shiny glass. They were pretty, almost like tiny galaxies were hidden in them. You looked away to finish the processing. You took his discs and filed it under Crew Members subsection ‘B’. “Alright, welcome to our ship, you’re officially part of the Compass now.” you gave him a slight smile. Jaehyun’s lips also curled into a smile.

“Thank you.” he said. He made his way to the door and promptly left.

***

Records were extremely flooded that particular day. Your fingers moved quickly as you processed files and organized discs. Dwarf Planet ZETA110 was being explored. Many records of the flora and fauna were piling in. Not only that but information the planet's makeup and natural climate came in as well. You felt exhausted as you moved back and forth between your computer and the filing wall. Thankfully, it was almost break time. You could almost taste that roasted chicken breast. The thought of food alone made you salivate. You stretched as you got up from your chair. Just then your shift relief came in and you grabbed your keycard and walked out. You tiredly rubbed the back of your neck as you made your way to the elevator.

The dining room was half full. You groaned and weaved through the amount of people sitting. You entered your card into the ordering machine and tapped your choice. It was only a moment's notice until the food came out. You looked around for an empty seat and saw Jaehyun again. He was sitting alone, still with that anxious body language from before. He looked like he was spacing out to a far off world. You hesitated, you weren’t really one to make acquaintances. Yet, you sympathized. Space was lonely and cold. It felt empty and void. When you didn’t have someone to really confide in, it felt even worse. Almost as if you’ve been exiled to a blackhole of self-pity and bitterness.

You walked over and sat across diagonally from him. You glanced at his plate to make conversation. “Spicy pork belly stew, nice choice,” you commented rather nervously. He looked over at you and perked up a bit.

“Hi.” he said, smiling a bit. His eyes glimmer and twinkle. You feel breathless for a moment.

“Hi,” you repeated back. “Are you settled in yet?” it had only been a few hours since you last saw him but you figured to ask anyway.

“No,” he sighed. You watched as he moved the handle of his spoon. “Had to beam down and take a look at the planet’s landscape.”

“How is it?” you asked out of sheer curiosity. You never really got the chance to go to other planets. Most of your companions were people who work on the ship and had no business being on the ground.

“Humid,” Jaehyun replies. “It’s so humid, like a jungle, but there’s not that many trees. Everything just feels heavy...”

You started to eat your food. After eating you got up to put back your tray and utensils. Jaehyun got up as well. You felt shy as you walked beside him. You wondered if it’s okay to open up more. “Hey, when will you be done for the day?” you asked.

“Not sure,” he replied. “Why?”

“Well, if you’re up for it, I’ll be in the break room. We can play a game of 3D chess if you’re interested. Or maybe a friendly 1-on-1 on the arcade machine if that’s more your style.” You suggested. Jaehyun blinked before smiling. He shyly looked away from you. You only took a moment to appreciate his side profile.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” He said.

“Well, duty calls, I’ll see you later.” You excused yourself from him.

***

Jaehyun’s presence was almost intoxicating. You wondered if it’s an effect due to the planet’s troposphere. Nonetheless, as the two of you stood together hovering the arcade machine, you felt warm. The both of you were focused on the game quietly. At one point you felt your hand accidentally brushed up against his.

Afterwards the two of you moved on to 3D chess. You tried to make conversation asking things about him. You found out that he’s a picky eater, he likes music, and fantasy movies. Much like yourself you enjoyed a good movie. The conversation then spiraled into the best movies made in the 21st century.

“Check,” you said while moving your piece to the second level.

“I’m not good at games, huh?” He joked.

“I mean, you’re not awful.” you assured him. Jaehyun held his chin thinking for a moment before making a move.

“Checkmate,” you laughed as you captured his king. He lets out a disappointed sigh before sitting back in his chair. You look over at the clock at the time you usually go to bed. “Well, it’s quite late isn’t it? I’m sure you’re tired.”

“I guess so...” he said before getting up from his chair. Almost immediately he loses his balance. You stood up quickly to hold him.

You put his arm around your neck. “Hey, Jaehyun, are you okay? Jaehyun?” You looked over to see his face had grown pale. His eyes looked dull, it no longer had that shine.

“Head...hurts… so bad…” he groaned.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you to the medical bay.” you comforted him.

In the medical bay Doctor Lee was busy taking care of two others. You were instructed to help Jaehyun onto one of the beds. You wondered if you should stay with Jaehyun. You obviously worried for him but maybe this was too much. You turned away from him but before you could move you felt a hand grab your wrist. Jaehyun’s fingers were wrapped around your wrist weakly. You looked at him softly. “Stay, please,” he croaked. His cheeks blushed red and he looked anxious. You only stood by him unsure of your ability to comfort him.

Thankfully it wasn’t dire. It turned out that several of the crewmen were affected by the planet’s air quality causing them to have hypertension. Jaehyun was fine. He’ll be back to normal by the next date. You let out a big sigh of relief as you lied in bed.

During your break you decided to visit him. When you entered the medical bay you saw Jaehyun sitting upright. His eyes were looking sparkly again. He almost resembled a puppy who was happy to see its owner. “Hi.” you greeted.

“Hi, good to see you again.” he smiled. He seemed to be in better condition.

“Status report?” you asked.

“All good, blood pressure back to normal, should be able to retreat to my quarters within the next hour or so,” Jaehyun reported. The two of you laughed as you looked into each other's eyes. “Once I’m out of here there’s something I’d like to show you,” he said. You lifted an eyebrow at him. “Meet me in the botanical lab when you’re free.”

The rest of your shift felt painfully slow. You were too curious about what was going to occur later. While your relationship with Jaehyun wasn’t extremely close yet it often felt intimate at times. You sighed as you organized the incoming discs. Everything felt like walking on thin ice. You never knew what exactly to feel other than attraction.

You promptly met Jaehyun in the botanical lab. He was sitting among the countless native flora of different planets. “Hi, again.” you greeted. Jaehyun stood up and signaled with his hand. You walked over to where he stood. You looked in the same direction as him and saw the most stunningly vibrant red plant. It was crimson red and it’s leaves were olive green. You stared for a moment then looked at Jaehyun.

“They call it a Carmesí Florera,” Jaehyun plucked a petal and sniffed it. “It smells like fruit punch,” he held it to your nose and you took a whiff. It really did smell like a fruit punch. It made you feel a little nostalgic. “And they say,” Jaehyun grabbed your hand and put the petal in the palm of your hand. “If you give a petal to someone, they’ll be with you for a long time...” you looked up at him as he gently closed your fingers into a fist. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him. His ears were as red as the flower petals.

“What are you trying to say?” You questioned.

Jaehyun only shrugged. “You’re a great companion,” he said. You frowned a little. Part of you wished this could be a fairytale where next he’ll sweep you off your feet. But this wasn’t a fairytale, this is a science fiction that somehow became reality. However, this gesture was too strange. It didn’t make sense. Jaehyun was staring softly. He worried that he might have said something wrong. You clutch your flower petal and sighed. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

You shook your head. “I don’t understand,” you said honestly. “What do you mean with this? We may be miles and miles away from Earth but this sentiment can be seen as a romantic gesture from any planet, I’m confused...”

Jaehyun looked scared for a moment. As if you said something awful to him. He seemed appalled but then something changed. He straightens out his back and looks you in the eyes. “Okay then, I’ll be honest, I like you, I have a fondness for you, I… want us to be closer, and maybe in the near future we can be more than that.” he admitted.

You blinked a few times. It was a romantic gesture. Jaehyun made a romantic declaration. Your relationship was, in part, intimate. Your face was red at that point and your heart was beating quickly. It happened too fast and you’ve never really felt like this before. You were smiling without noticing.

“I like you too.”

***

Bong Jaehyun walked in starlight. He was as bright as the sun but can feel cold as the moon. Behind his eyes was the universe’s tiniest galaxy. It twinkled and shined for the world to see yet it was tucked away for only the brave to explore. Just when he felt unreachable, he held out his hand just enough for you to reach. He was almost undetectable yet his gravitational pull left you no choice but to adore him. There may be thousands of galaxies out there to discover but you were glad to have discovered him.

Even though the two of you laid flat on the cold observatory room floor staring at the endless void that was space, he was still more breathtaking than the billions of stars littered around them. You stared at him wondering what he was thinking about as he looked up at the vast sky. Was he also comparing you to a star?

Slowly you inched your hand close to his. You wondered if it was okay. Your pinky finger shyly bumped into his. You felt his hand touch yours almost as if it were asking for an embrace. Your fingers interlocked with his and you couldn’t help but smile. Jaehyun turned to look at you. He looked with a certain tenderness that makes your stomach flip. In that moment, you concluded that out of all the stars in the universe he was the brightest.

[amydancepants-peralta]

Ok, I have a prompt for you. Can you do a one-shot of Jake and Amy's first morning together (preceded by the shot of them in bed in 3×01). Things like breakfast in bed, cuddling etc, even sexy talk of the previous night's events is all requested. Thanks♥️

HI @obsessiveperaltiagofangirl!  I had every intention of finishing this in time for their anniversary but time ran away from me a little 😅 Anyways, I hope you enjoy!  💖

(G rated, for anyone who may be wondering! 😇)

in the light of day 

There’s barely any light creeping across the floorboards when an only slightly hungover Amy Santiago opens her eyes, the dull lighting working in her favour as the effects of last night’s shots rush straight to her head.  Despite the miniature hammers that seem to be tap, tap, tapping along the inside of her skull, a tiny part of her mind (the part that isn’t still trying to piece together exactly what happened last night) knows it’s a Thursday; and on Thursdays the routine is an early wakeup, followed by a seven mile run before work.  She forces her eyes close for a second, cursing the efficiency of her body clock, and as her nose burrows into an unfamiliar pillow her eyes flutter open again.  

She takes a deep breath as her blurry eyes take in her surroundings, recognising the exposed brick walls and proximity of the kitchen to the bedroom as the familiar trappings of Jake Peralta’s apartment.  To her right she makes out the draped red fabric of a dress thrown onto an armchair - her dress, the one that she may or may not have purchased only yesterday afternoon - and as she stretches ever so slightly the sensation of cotton sheets rubbing against her skin confirms her suspicion that she is, in fact, completely naked.  

There is one other detail that Amy picks up on (something so important that, once registered, does in fact outweigh all the others), and that is the proximity of said Jake Peralta’s warm arm against her skin.  An arm connected to a body that, if their tangled legs are anything to go by, is just as naked as hers.  

Naked, because despite both of their best intentions, stuff had definitely happened last night.  

Jake’s arm feels surprisingly light as it lays stretched along the edge of her ribcage, his elbow bending faintly to bring his hand to rest on her chest.  It’s an embrace that keeps their bodies close, but in no way feels possessive, and as her brain begins to catch up to the events of the night before Amy realises that not once, in their ten months together, did waking up with Teddy ever feel like this.  

From his position behind her, Jake stretches - most likely a reaction to Amy’s own elongation mere seconds ago - fingertips scraping against her skin and remaining splayed across her upper chest as the bridge of his nose presses against her shoulder blade.  She listens as his breathing returns to a regular rate, smiling at the feeling of his breath against her skin, and hovers her free hand ever so slightly above his.

She’s dying to touch him.  To run her fingertips along the raised edges of his knuckles, the tiny bumps that can hold such power when aimed at those who dare to harm others.  Circle the lopsided scar down by his thumb, the one he insisted was from an undercover gang initiation for years until Gina finally rolled her eyes and told everyone it was from her oven when he cooked her pizza once.  

Trace the length of his fingers, and remember how they made her feel last night.  

These were the hands that had occupied her thoughts frequently - admittedly a lot more in the past six months or so - and the reality of them pressing against her very bare skin this morning was turning out to be even better than anything Amy could have imagined. 

She keeps her breath even, denying her heart the chance to race despite the memories that have begun playing in her mind.  Tries not to think about all the times she’s watched these same hands cuff a criminal, or type furiously at the keyboard across from hers … run through his hair when the frustrations of the day began to be too much.  

Speeding hearts wake up sleeping partners after all, and right now, Amy wants the uninhibited chance to explore.  

Slowly, her fingertips skim against the soft, barely distinguishable hairs that run along his hands; movements growing bolder as Jake’s breath remains steady on her skin.  

They were larger than she realised (a discovery that was not specific to just his hands), slightly calloused and entirely welcoming.  She runs the pad of her fingertips against his, his fingers flexing instinctively to her touch, and with a blink Amy remembers it all.  

The feel of him; the tentative brush of the outside of his hand grazing hers as they left the restaurant, remembers how right it felt when he finally took the plunge and pressed his palm against hers.  The smile stretched across her face that had been ridiculously big - only one glance out of the corner of her eye had shown her that Jake’s was exactly the same - and then she was pulling him in the direction of her favourite frozen yoghurt store: a building they never got a chance to enter because suddenly, she was being pressed against a brick wall and suddenly, Jake’s lips were crushed against her own.

He towers over her in almost every way, and even now as she lay bare in his bed and carefully links their fingers together, Amy notices just how tiny her hand is compared to his - a curse of her tiny stature that she’s ignored most of her life.  But with Jake, Amy realises, she’s never felt small or drowned out.  With Jake, she was equal - even if she did stand a few inches shorter than him at the best of times.  

Jake’s grip around her tightens, the steady breath in her ear changing rhythm as he slowly begins to wake.  She feels his arms stop midway into a squeeze around her middle, frozen in place as the recognition of who they’re wrapped around begins to flood his mind, and already Amy knows that he doesn’t want to be seen as some kind of gross, regrettable one night stand that cannot keep his hands to himself the morning after.  But she wants him to touch her - her suddenly fluttering heartbeat was proof of that if nothing else - needs to feel the warmth that only seems to come from being around him.  And maybe (okay, definitely) they’re barreling towards that gooey can’t-get-enough-of-you stage, but there’s nobody that she’d rather be in that stage with; and so she strengthens her grip on his fingers, pulling his arms close to her body as she turns her head towards his.  

His voice is gruff, but his breath feels warm against her skin.  “Mmmf.  Early.”

Amy nods, hoping that he can pick up her response from his position behind her.  “I know, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to wake you.”  Taking in a deep breath, she wills the ache in her head to go away.  “Body clock.”

“S’okay.”  The room falls silent, save for the soft breaths between them, and gently Jake’s fingers stroke a circular pattern along her chest.  “How are you feeling?”

It’s a loaded question, one that Amy knows he’s chosen out of the several options she’s certain are running through his head, purely for its ability to be answered in multiple ways.  And honestly, she could take his lead and give him a polite but vague answer, find a way to excuse herself and head home … get dressed for another normal day at work while they continued to dance around their feelings for each other.  

But she was tired of hiding - tired of pretending to be nothing when they were clearly something.  Last night had been a culmination of months of yearning - all of the furtive glances across desks and tension filled silences bubbling together into a table for two at a restaurant that really did make an excellent Kamikaze - and she’s never been one to break the rules (especially the ones that she herself had created), but sometimes you just have to let go of the responsibility and just enjoy the ride.  And she didn’t regret it for a second.  

Letting go of Jake’s hand, Amy turns slowly on the mattress, brow furrowing slightly as an unfamiliar lump in the mattress digs into her thigh.  From beside her Jake shuffles slightly back, obviously already preparing for the worst, and before he can say anything she wriggles her body closer to his, gripping the top of the sheet as she closes the gap between them.  “I’m feeling good.  Pretty great, actually.”

HIs smile is so sweet in response, one hand bashfully sneaking out of the sheet to scratch the stubble on his cheek in what Amy guesses is an attempt to hide the blush creeping up his neck.  Briefly, she thinks of the selfie they took last night on her phone - the same steady arm wrapped around her waist as he pulled his chest close to her back, the same smile on his face enticingly bright as he rests his chin against her shoulder.  It was a great photo, even if the intended purpose of having her phone out was actually to order them an Uber, and she wonders if it’s too soon to make it his contact photo.  

“Yeah?”

She nods.  “Yeah.”

(Frankly, she could use some coffee … perhaps a little breakfast.  A paracetamol or two wouldn’t hurt, either.  But none of that held a candle to the sheer joy that was bubbling under her surface - the mixture of elation and trepidation that had joined forces to release a kaleidoscope of butterflies in her stomach the very second Jake smiled at her.  So yeah, she was feeling pretty great.)

As one warm hand tentatively wraps itself around her waist again Amy moves just that little bit closer, watching as his eyes soften at her proximity.  His hair is messy, poking up in various directions, and even though Amy knows it’s entirely her fault from running her fingers through it multiple times the night before, she’s itching to do it all over again.  “Me, too.  I mean, I did wake up to a naked Amy Santiago in my bed, so that’s naturally going to make anybody feel pretty great, but …” he laughs as her fist pushes against his chest in mock annoyance, grabbing her wrist before she can pull away and leaving a kiss against her palm.   “Best reason to break a rule, ever.”

The free hand around her waist tugs her forwards, and as she feels the rush of blood hit the tip of her ears Amy leans into her partner, revelling in the still-new sensation of Jake’s lips pressed against hers, morning breath be damned.  

They linger together for a moment, the lazy morning kiss of two people who are both still in a little bit of awe that this is actually happening, and the look of pure contentment on Jake’s face when Amy finally pulls away makes her heart skip just a little.  He tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear - last night’s perfect blow wave long gone - and blinks a few times as though finally taking in the rest of his apartment.  “Wait.  Just how early is it?”

Wincing, Amy chews the bottom of her lip slightly before pulling the sheet up until only her eyes are showing.  “I mean, I haven’t checked my phone yet but .. I’m pretty sure it’s about five.”

“Five?  As in A.M?!”

“I told you, body clock!”

“Honestly, Santiago.  You are the only person I know whose body clock would wake them up at five.”

His clear indignation was adorable (and surprisingly - a little bit sexy), and Amy drops the sheet and shuffles herself closer to Jake, just as intent on seeking his warmth as she is on fulfilling her growing urge for more.  “It’s not so bad, you know …” she whispers, wrapping her left leg around his waist and pushing him towards the mattress, a silent request that Jake follows willingly.  Pressing her knees down into the sheets on either side of him, Amy straddles his lower abdomen, smiling as Jake’s breath hitches obviously in his chest.  “After all, being awake early means extra time for … other stuff.”  

She plants her hands on his chest, grinning in satisfaction as a visible line of shivers begin to run over his skin.  Jake’s hands slide over her legs, moving up to cup her butt before sliding up her waist reverently, and this time it’s her turn to tremble.  Truthfully, if someone had told her three days ago that something like this would be happening so soon, she would have laughed in their faces (before immediately disappearing somewhere private to fantasise about such an impossible moment, naturally).  Things were moving quickly, and she should probably feel way more exposed, resting the weight of her naked body on her partner’s waist, but his touch on her skin felt more right than anything Amy can remember.  

Jake’s upper body lifts slightly off the mattress, craning his neck to meet her lips in another kiss; and she knows why it took them so long, and why they were both so hesitant to take that first leap, but oh, this feels like coming home.  She grinds her hips into the new angle their bodies are making, sighing into Jake’s mouth as she feels him begin to respond, and as Amy wraps her arms around his neck Jake flips them gently, covering her body with his own as his lips press harder against hers.  

“I’m a big fan of the other stuff,” he mumbles into her neck, peppering the statement with kisses and gentle nips as Amy chuckles softly, carding her fingers into the short hairs on the back of his head and holding him close.  His hands roam the dips and curves of her carefully - the practised gentleness of a man who knows how easily great things can slip away from him - and with a satisfied sigh Amy closes her eyes to take it all in.  

It had only taken them one night to grow from a jumble of nerves to something far greater (okay - one night, months of pining and a couple of years pretending it was all nothing), and even in the light of day, it was turning out to be better than she could have ever imagined.   

It takes another few hours, lightly burnt toast in bed and a quick stop past Amy’s apartment before they’re both sitting in the respective desks, doing their absolute best to keep up the illusion that everything is exactly the same as the day before.  It’s an appearance than barely lasts more than half a day - because clearly, everything has changed, and only for the better - and despite her tiny and slightly disruptive meltdown, Amy has the strongest instinct that this time she and Jake just might have managed to capture lighting in a bottle.  

*

(And six years later, when Amy wakes up on their third wedding anniversary to the sound of her husband singing off-key to their son through the monitor on her nightstand, she cannot help but think that while that first morning together was pretty great, this one just might be her most favourite yet.)

[girlobsessed21]

My thoughts on The 100 7x05

Hey, guys,

Sorry for not doing any comments on the last two episodes. I’ve been a little busy and I struggled to connect to the show, so it hindered my enjoyment, but it’s all better now. Liked episode 4 and 5 was even better, jampacked with info and it answered a lot of questions.

Welcome to Bardo

Badass Octavia is da bomb (people don’t say that anymore, right?). When she was captured in episode two, I thought she had lost her fighting spirit, but it’s back, bitches. Well, until she runs into an invisible wall trying to escape. She’s captured and transported to M-cap (whatever that means). Then we get a welcome little flashback to Lincoln but it’s obvious that Bellamy would be the hand reaching out. He’s her rock, like she’s expressed many times.

Unlike John Murphy who is not quite a friend, or family and definitely not a lover. Introducing so many new characters in the final season of a show is never a good idea, because this is the time to wrap up all the stories of the existing ones, but come on, who cannot love Levitt. Even when he first meets Octavia, he doesn’t want to hurt her. Jason, you better not harm one hair on this precious little puppy’s head!

As he binges The 100 through Octavia’s eyes, he starts rooting for her, and he actually gives a damn, unlike most people on this show. He understands her strengths and weaknesses and he makes her see it too. “You’re a warrior to be sure, but your heart is pure.” Wow, what an honest and beautiful line. (Scroll down for my shipping comments.)

So is O and Hope’s fleeting little reunion. It’s amazing to experience this deep loving side of Octavia after her darkness. She’s truly one of the most diverse and developed characters on the series. Now Hope and her resilience is quickly making it to the top as well.

While Hope is trying to send her back home, we learn that memory loss is due to the time dilation. One quick note on this, it’s not linear, there’s no easy equation to calculate it unless you’re Stephen Hawking or Einstein. I don’t think it’s constant either. 10 years on Skyring = 11 days on Bardo = a few minutes on Sanctum. In the current time, 5 years on Skyring = 1 day on Sanctum = 7 days on Bardo. So, it’s clear that the planets are moving, and other factors are playing into the phenomenon. It’s more important to understand the time relative to each planet.

Levitt was the one who tattooed Hope’s code onto O’s back, also the one who planted the note into Hope’s arm. Indeed the kind of man you want on the inside, he even accepts a blow to the face as thank you.

Sheep-ish?

Thirty minutes on the clock and the trio gets led to a congregation to praise the shepherd. I never thought it was Anders, I do, however think it might be Cadogan. The Bordoan’s built the underground forest because they destroyed their planet. Ugh, what’s new? The shepherd herded his sheep from earth to Bardo via the stone. Cadogan and his second dawn cult?

Back to Clarke. So, after last episode I thought ‘the key to winning the last war’ line was an artifice for luring Clarke to disciples, but now it’s clearly true. They’ve located the key and they will win the last war. Levitt was interested in Clarke surviving the City of Light with the flame in her head, they probably assume she still has it. Cadogan burned Becca alive. Could it be because of the flame? Is this all because of that damn little chip that can’t seem to die?

Bellamy is not dead, I repeat, Bellamy is not dead! I believe that memory could be staged or implanted for a reason. Also, there’s no body, he jumped through the bridge. In the promo photos, he wears a ring but his actions towards Octavia seem a little cold and generic. On first watch, I thought it was bad acting but if he was programmed to do this, it makes sense.

Note the sequence of events. Octavia returned 7 days ago and was asked to talk her brother down, but we don’t see the actual scene. Instead we’re shown a memory. They could have implanted it to make her vulnerable and perhaps more susceptible to the procedure. I don’t know, but this theory could lead to Robot-sheep!Bellamy on Nakara, where he’ll encounter Clarke and the gang.

I have to be honest, I really don’t like this character arc for Bellamy. It’s unoriginal and a mime of Peeta’s storyline in Mockingjay. Sorry, but so far it feels like the writers were so over the show, they just wanted to get it done. And that attitude really bleeds into one’s creative concepts. I could be completely wrong, in fact, I hope I am.

Echo spins a Finn

My word, I lost the love of my life once, but I sure didn’t kill anyone. When Echo received that vision of Roan, I was hoping for some progression on her individual arc, they’ve made me care about her, and now we get the opposite. Why? One thing I have to admit, a killer performance from Tasya Teles! No pun intended.

Look, this show hasn’t explored Bellamy and Echo’s relationship enough to make her murder believable. It was the exact same thing with Finn. I wasn’t invested in Finn and Clarke’s connection, so his actions of killing a grounder tribe was more repulsive than understandable. Sure, Echo loves Bellamy and her sole purpose is to save him, but I’ve never truly witnessed their love for each other. They had one or two intimate scenes which cannot compel a deed like this. And in the process, she screwed Hope and Diyoza.

Anyway, I don’t think there’s any coming back from it. She murdered an innocent person in cold blood. That’s sure to open a door to the dark side.  Just look at Octavia after killing Pike and her actions were justified by jus drein jus daun.

Say Sanctum three times slowly and it sounds like… Sanctum

Blind faith

Look, I’m just gonna come out and say this song is getting old. Every episode featuring Sanctum is the exact same thing with different lines. Can we please move on from it, already? Yes, we know the COG want Russel dead, and the adjusters will go to extreme lengths to free Russel and the prisoners are background noise.

I did appreciate Nelson stepping in to try and save the girl, though. Still doesn’t save the fact that it’s repetitive. The Sanctum plotline is really struggling to take shape and I hope it happens soon. Dramatic eyeroll.

At least in the drought of a desert, you can always count on Murphy. “…I say we live and let die.” Typical cockroach line, right, but it’s ironic when he’s the one to step up, even if it is for Emori. Under the magnifying glass it’s the exact same plot as episode 1 and 3. He hesitates to take action, and eventually becomes the hero.

I mean, he saved that poor kid from being burned alive. Can you imagine sacrificing your own child in such a horrific away? Cults are beyond whacked, and, unfortunately, it’s reality that cult members are so blinded by their faith that they do not see rhyme or reason.

How did Murphy fail that test? I didn’t. When Trey named the four pillars, I thought, isn’t rejoice one of them? Surely, a cockroach would have smelled that trap a mile away.

Indra the great

Can we just give a massive round of applause to Adina Porter!!! That powerhouse walk vibrates strength and majesty, damn, she should be a false god, I wouldn’t dare threaten her with or without an army.

Three little words was all it took for her to recognize evil. “There’s a spider on your shoulder.” Smooth. Too bad she can’t kill him. Why not, how many of the faithful are left to cause an uproar? Wonkru doesn’t know it’s Sheidheda, they won’t care, the COG will fall in line and the prisoners will be happy as long as they get their compound. Sorry, I don’t get it and I don’t understand why she doesn’t tell anyone.  Someone please explain?

Granted, JR Bourne as Russel is way better, but I still don’t understand his actions. I hope they explore and explain him more, because he still feels flat unless he knows something of this final war. I’m hoping these two storylines align soon since it’s really driving a wedge between me and my love for the show.

Shipwreck

I’ll start with the easy stuff, Murphy, Emori and the perfect dress gets a heart eye emoji from me. They are so damn cute this season, can they please live happily ever after in the palace?

Octabriel vs Levittavia

Now, I enjoy Levitt fangirling over Octavia. I feel like he has a deep sense of her through her memories. If I have to root for an underdeveloped relationship, it will have to be one where the characters share thoughts and experiences even if it is through a sick, sci-fi procedure.

On the other hand, Gabriel and Octavia have immense chemistry, two seconds of them together bends my mouth into an “Aah, cute” pout. This will also add some approval and representation for mixed racial relationships.

I really don’t mind either way as long as they make me care through showing and not telling.

Bellarke

So, if my theory is correct, and Bellamy does end up on Nakara, Bellarke will encounter each other quite soon. Bellamy won’t be himself though, but he might pretend to be Bellamy to win Clarke’s co-operation. Is there hope for Bellarke yet?

Echo is now trotting a dangerous path and Bellamy might be pledged to a cause, so I doubt there will be a happy ending for Becho. Since 7x01 I’ve been thinking that the writers might want to develop something between Clarke and Gaia but if they are separated, is there enough time? Guess we’ll see.

This monster of a review is finally done… If you read through everything, you deserve a gold star! Let me know what you think, till we meet again…

[diorthesuperior]

When Tour Ends (Day6 Wonpil fluff–>smut)

You stare at the black and white keys, a little exhausted but determined. It's been 5 months and Wonpil is still on tour with his group. You have so much free time which ideally you'd like to spend with him but you can't. The little vintage flower shop you worked at had shorter hours now since it was the winter months so there'd be less customers.

You decorated your shared flat with the leftover flower clippings from work, creating a calm ambient along with candles you had lit.

Since he's been away you took it upon yourself to learn piano because when he played it so effortlessly it intrigued you. You wanted to play a song for him to show your love. So that's what you did while he was gone, and though your fingers were cramped from constant errors and repetition it was worth it.

°°°

Your dreaded alarm echoed from your phone in the empty room. You swung your arm over on the other side of the empty bed, but he wasn't there. You hugged into the corner of your duvet and yawned turning your alarm off. Well you set it to snooze. Before pushing the button off on the side of your phone you caught glimpse of your lockscreen and smiled at the photo of wonpil smiling captioned “I miss you”. He set it before he went to remind you of him. Not that you'd forget a guy like him, but he wanted to be there with you, somehow.

°°°

Bzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

You jump up in shock from the noise coming from your phone again. You slept in for longer than you imagined. You check the time and it reads 8am. Shit is all you could think. Wonpil was due home any minute. You were really excited to finally meet with him again but you were supposed to wake up early to get ready and dressed for him. You had a cute little black dress just for him since he saw it on a mannequin once and said how it was so cute. So ofcourse you being you, bought it when he wasn't there.

But you hadn't time for this. You were dressed in a silk nightgown that was quite revealing. You got up and went to the door and reached for your dressing gown from the hook to cover you. You caught glimpse of your reflection in the mirror and sighed. Your messy bun was somewhat okay but your face was puffy from the long sleep.

A knock came from the front door of the flat and you panicked. You ran out and turned the knob as quick as possible .

Although you know you looked a mess you couldn't wait to see him.

You were taken by surprise when you were grasped into a big hug only seeing his smile 1 second previous. The hug felt so nice, after weeks of not seeing eachother it was awarding to be back to the reality you loved most and with the guy you loved most, Kim Wonpil.

After that long hug, he pulled back and stared at you for what felt like a minute. You looked up at the slightly taller figure and felt your cheeks flush a tint of rose from warmth. His eyes studied all your features, his stare wandering from your smile to your freckled rosy cheeks, then back to your eyes.

“You look so cute, you slept well didn't you? ” he spoke bringing his hand up to put a stray curl from your face behind your ear.

“I overslept I wanted to look all nice for you but..”

“You hit snooze like always right?”

“Yes”

You let out a sigh and tighten the belt on your robe.

“Don't worry princess we can both get ready later. I like you looking all cozy and cute like this it reminds me of how lucky I am to wake and see you like this everyday from now on.”

“Wonpil I really missed you, the bed was so empty I know I complained about your snoring but a night without your cuddles isn't a goodnight”

“I know I missed you too, c'mere”

Wonpil shuffled his feet slowly bringing you into a hug, his hands lightly on your waist as you put you head on his shoulder.

“I really am the luckiest to have you back here”

You stare into Wonpils eyes that's gleamed with happiness at your words. A rumble of your stomach broke the wholesome moment.

“Lets eat something before anything else maybe"

He flashes you a goofy smile but all you can do is nod. He made his special scrambled eggs and put on some bread to toast. You made the coffee since you made it best, which wonpil admits. You carry the mugs over to the coffee table beside the couch and plop down beside wonpil who had served the two dishes.

“Thank you babe”

“No thank you for the coffee princess”

You missed him calling you that.

You sipped on the coffee as the steam hit your face and the sweet aroma. It was one of your favorite scents after your boyfriends cologne 'chanel de bleu'.

“So what have you been up to”

“Not too much but I have a surprise for you”

“Oh? Really?”

“Yes actually I can show you now I was going to wait a little later but now would be nice since you're having coffee”

“Okay”

You got off the sofa and made your way over to the keyboard propped up infront of the window.

“Did you really-”

“yes now shh”you joke putting a finger on your lip.

You breathe in and exhale placing your hand on the common keys. You start to play the melody which you had tried so hard to learn and it finally paid off. The first few notes filled the room leaving goosebumps. It was the special song you both claimed as 'your song'.

When you love someone.

Although you were trying to focus on the keys you felt his eyes on you and once you came to the end you couldn't help but lift your gaze to him. You ended up hitting the wrong last note but his face was worth the mistake. He looked with such admiration and pride.

“That was beautiful Y/N, really beautiful. Thank you”

“When you love someone I guess you really do things you wouldn't have ever imagined.” you giggle lifting the hair from your face with a bright smile.

“When you love someone you can't help but feel bliss when the one you love goes out of their way to do something like that” he sighs with amazement.

“Just for you Pillie”

He stands up and grabs you by the hips placing a soft kiss on your lips. You could taste the coffee from his lips.

“I missed your lips during tour”

You blush pushing him onto the sofa playfully. He's laying there with his elbows back while you stare at him with a smirk.

“I bet you did”

Although it was just a simple position he was in and a simple remark it didn't hide the heat it created. He just had a long flight so his appearance was not far from yours. He had his blonde locks going all directions and outfit wise just a simple black long slieved shirt and black shorts.

The eye contact was intense but you couldn't help but look at his slightly parted lips from his shocked expression. In fact you missed his lips too. He sees you eyeing him and smirks.

“How's my slut”

Fuck.

He hadn't called you that for 5 months.

“Wonpil sorry for pushing yo-”

“Down”

“What”

“Get on your knees”

You gulp but kneel down infront of him staring up with alert eyes. You put your phone aside and ask what's wrong, knowing exactly where this was going, but you weren't complaining.

“My needy slut missed me so bad huh, I've only been back an hour and you're already teasing and craving my cock”

“I didn't I just pushed you Wonpil sor-”

“Wonpil?slut say my name”

“-Sir”

“you pushed me into this position and I saw you eyeing me, such a slut”

You couldn't help but swoon over his tone of voice. His words turned you on so much and you struggled to hide it.

“You love this don't you? You love it when you're so desperate infront of me you love it it when I call you my slut?”

You could feel you face flush at his statement as thoughts of what he'd do to you entered your head.

Before you knew it he forcefully grabbed you by the jaw and unzipped his pants, his lengthy cock standing against his stomach leaking with precum. He pumped himself two or three times before jerking your jaw bringing your lips towards his tip.

“Open up Princess”

You straddled his hips and swiped your tongue up his shaft tasting his leaking precum.

Frustrated he pulled you by the hair and pushed you down on his length making you take him whole. You let out a loud moan from the forceful but pleasurable hair pulling but was quickly muffled by his cock. He was big so you felt like gagging but held out, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. You hollowed out you cheeks increasing the pace of your bobbing head, your hands pleasing any of his length that you couldn't take.

“fuckkk” he groaned under his breath

“Such a gorgeous slut taking every inch, princess I missed your lips on my cock. If only you could imagine what I'd do to you later. Ugh slut keep going”

His praise and dirty talk got you so riled up, you're drenched just from his words yet he hasn't even touched your body.

Bzzzzzzt bzzzzzzzt

You look up at him with lustful eyes, his length half way down your throat, shifting your glance to your phone which you forgot to put on silent.

Your lockscreen lit up beside him catching his attention. He pinned in your pass code and entered your phone.

“Keep going don't mind me”

You continue.

Before you knew it he was recording you taking him whole. He pulled at your hair causing a moan to escape your lips, vibrating against his cock which caused him to groan again but even louder which caught you by surprise. You don't know what switched in you but the idea of being recorded turned you on so much and made you want to preform better. You hallowed your lips and rapidly sucked up and down bobbing your head while squeezing his thighs. You hummed on his dick the vibrations flowing through his length.

“shit I'm close"

Without warning he snapped his hips up and down his cock destroying your throat as you cry around it. It's hurts but youre willing to take it for him.

Curses and dirty praises leave his lips as he reaches his point.

“Fuck it open up"

A long groan of broken syllables leaves his mouth, his jaw hanging open with his eyes rolling back. White strings of cum hit your face but you take most of it in your mouth, swallowing every last bit. His eyebrows are furrowed as his lips are parted, his chest heaving up and down as he breaths loudly.

“Fuck when you love someone you really give them a show” he chokes out, sweat dripping from his forehead, his hands behind his head staring at you kneeling infront of him with his cum on your face.

“When you love someone you have to make them feel as good as they make you.”

°°°

You slipped on you silver heals and sat up from the corner of the bed. You went over to the mirror and adjusted your revealing sapphire dress that hugged all your curves perfectly. You reached for the diamond choker on your dresser and adjusted it around your neck.

Wonpil was in the bedroom bathroom fixing his collar and his tie. He'd been in there the past 20 minutes doing his hair but you didn't mind too much. You were going on a dinner date in a fancy restaurant that Wonpils bestfriend Dowoon recommended. It took one look at you for praises to fall from his lips.

“You're really gorgeous tell me again why you're not a model? ”

“Because you told me you'd be jealous of others getting to see what you see”

Wonpil smirks.

“Ah, correct”

Your eyes caught glimpse of the bulge in those tight fitted pants making you feel hot again. You had to contain yourself, though he was making it hard. He rolled up the slieves of his dress shirt to his elbows which made him look like he was preparing to destroy you. You blinked twice and got out of your thoughts and thought of a way to get your mind off your desire.

“Wonpil where's my phone? I want to see how long the restaurant stays open till tonight ” you question looking over at the well dressed figure.

“Princess it's on the counter” he smiles.

You walk over to the marble counter top, lifting your dress as you walk just incase it would rip. You already had a daring enough split you couldn't have two. You breath out having escaped the situation in the bedroom. You reach for you phone and turn the power button on.

You look at your lockscreen and moan, unaware of your doing whimpering his name out and yes'.

Your lockscreen was no longer a photo of him smiling with the caption "I miss you"

Far from it.

During his blowjob when he was on your phone, he didn't only record you but also took photos of himself and set one as your lockscreen captioned

“I need you. Now”

The photo was taken right as he reached his climax his eyes rolling back, furrowed brows and parted lips, sweat on his forehead on which his blonde curls stuck to.

The moan was so loud and needy and was heard throughout the whole flat for sure.

Wonpil adjusted his tie in the mirror again smirking at his reflection.

“Guess she saw huh”

You lean against the counter staring at your phone speechless, still in your own world.

The clicks of his footsteps came from the bedroom to the kitchen over to your vulnerable state.

“Whats the matter princess?”

“Oh and by the way, the resuarant is open till 3am my bad! I forgot to tell you i could have prevented your feet from hurting walking over here in those highheels” he sighs in a fake pitiful tone, crossing his arms on his chest.

“Here princess” he softly speaks kneeling down infront of you, undoing the strap on your heels.

“Keep them off for now we wouldn't want you crying in pain would we? ” he says gripping your thigh for balance when he removes one heal, emphasizing his last words.

He puts the heel on the floor and tightens the grip on your thigh teasingly.

“O sorry princess I was loosing my balance there”

“Wonpil”

“Yes princess what's the matter? ”

“It's opened till 3 right? ”

“Yes and it's currently 8pm princess? What are you asking”

“It's too early. I need you”

“Use your words princess”

“mmmm fuck it I need you to fill me up and make me cry in pain fuck me here and now”

“your wish is my command princess, but whats the magic word? ”

“Please Wonpil I beg I need to feel you”

“Tut tut princess.. just because I've been gone months doesn't mean I won't punish you, now address me by my name”

“Please s-sir”

He takes your last heel off quickly and lifts his hand up to your face, his index finger pushing softly against your lips.

“Say no more, princess”

[moonssugar]

🔎 bet you weren't expecting me to say kaid (also chelsie)

KAID

I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE because Kaid is my favorite boy lets goooooo!

When you think about Kaid you have to imagine golden. And also soft. Kaid is about your average sized coyote, he looks bigger next to Sam than he does other people but in reality he's not that large at all! Just small enough for Sam to carry with a little effort but also big enough to drag Sam out of bed. Most of Kaid has sandy gold or tan and rust colored reddish brown fur, his markings are from medium to dark brown and cream white along his back and except for the base and tip of his tail which are darker brown and then coal black. His ears are big ol' reddish brown isosceles triangles and they have soft, white lining inner lining. He's not the least bit straggly, in fact he likes being just a little fluffy and somewhat chonky looking all the time even though the climate would say otherwise. He has a round black nose and short pale whiskers. Kaid also has a cream chest and a cream colored soft underbelly. His face is less narrow than most coyotes, still kind of narrow but also friendly and inviting (friend shaped); he has round-ish eyes that become narrower at the sides. They almost close when he smiles and when he smiles he lolls out his tongue. He has long legs but his fluffiness makes them look shorter, his paws are the right size to fit in Sam's hands and have black nails.

Photo reference! His fur is close to this level of being varied but where this coyote has more dark/black undertones imagine rich golden and tan undertones instead with fewer dark brown hairs. The rust brown on the forelegs and hind legs is a really accurate color though and so is the tip of this boy's tail although Kaid's is more full.

But so is the color in this coyote (the gold and tan coloring, left) is really true to Kaid also! The only difference is that Kaid's gold fur is a shade or two darker. He also completely lacks grey fur.

Lastly, Kaid is mostly shaped like this boy right here (right)! Chonk, somft, round. Its so Sam can use him as a pillow, other times he's less fluffy and more slender.

Fun fact! Kaid has the exact same eye color as Sam, they're both dark brown, I remember describing it somewhere as taking in and consuming light. Second fun fact! There's a mark on his back that is mostly white and brown that makes a crescent moon shape around his shoulders that points forward.

CHELSIE

Alright so my girl Chelsie! I think her appearance is so cool, honestly. Chelsie is South Asian, her mom is white, her dad is Indian and she is transfem. She has dark brown chin length loose hair, slightly wavy, not completely straight and the ends always have some sort of highlights because it pisses her mom off and she loves it (go her!). For the current times, they're dyed lilac purple. She has a light brown/warm beige complexion, sometimes she tans and sometimes she ends up with sunburn if she's not careful, it's a toss up. She has moles instead of freckles, not that many of them, just dotting her face, ears, arms and shoulders. Her face is more narrow, she has an aquiline nose, light brown eyes and small little moles beneath them. Chelse is on the skinnier side, she has sort of lanky limbs. Chelsie is taller than Sam and she will never let him forget it, he's her elbow rest first and friend second (kidding but she does love to lean on him a lot because he's softer than the wall).

This isn't physical but she radiates Fun and Adventurous energy with her appearance.

Chells likes to experiment with her appearance a lot, its really her finding a balance between things that feel nice to wear and make her feel happy but also clothes that express her interests. She wears graphic tees all the time, a lot of them are thrifted or handed down from friends. She tends to dabble in a lot of chaotic fashion choices making her pretty hard to pin down but these mostly include: merchandise, shirts with slogans that don't make sense and have mildly threatening auras (she might have a shirt that says 'bepis' on it too) jorts, pleated skirts, patches on jean vests and jackets, the occasional pony bead bracelet, ankle bracelets, thrasher sweatshirts and oversized hoodies. Accessories she likes to wear often are little UFO and mothman earrings, the two gold bangle bracelets her paternal grandmother gave her (both different colors but I haven't decided which) and her pink feather boa necklace she wears around the house whenever she's feeling bad. It helps cheer her up!

I don't have official faceclaims for my characters because its incredibly hard to find people that look like them so while I don't have a face claim for Chelsie or the others I do have approximations! This woman's face reminds me a lot of Chelsie's, mostly her nose and smile. And the radiance is accurate to to be honest LOOK AT THIS GAZE UPON IT

She's listening to Lifetime Achievement Award here for sure lmao