#which is just me starting multiple books at the same time and not really wanting to carry a separate backpack full of them

[ghouljams]

I really appreciate you reblogging that post about how difficult it is to quit an addiction. I myself am currently struggling with a sugar/caffeine addiction, and I drink way too much coke cola (and if I can't get my hands on some, energy drinks). It's nice to be reminded that it's not just me who is constantly thinking about how good it would feel to have juuust a little more, even if I said I would stop. I've tried to quit it multiple times, and each failed attempt disheartens me greatly and makes me feel weak willed, even if I rationally know everyone battling an addiction has those moments.

Sugar addictions often aren't treated as seriously as the "scary" drugs or smoking, but it's just as damaging to your health and difficult to quit, especially when the human brain is hardwired to want sugary, fatty foods. I hope one day to be strong enough to resist those cravings and get my health back on track.

You can become addicted to anything that makes you feel good. People are getting addicted to AI chat bots for god's sake, it doesn't even have to be quality stuff as long as it gives you that rush of dopamine it can reel you in. Now, some things are better designed to addict you, drugs and alcohol, sugar and caffeine, but that doesn't mean you aren't still getting that good feeling. Even if you don't get it every time, even if you only get that hit the first time, humans will chase that first high for the rest of their lives. It's the reason people stay in abusive relationships, things will never be as good as they were at the start but there's this silent promise that they might be.

Anyone can become addicted to anything. And I'm not saying that to scare anyone, but more to make the point that no one is above addiction. Addiction is not a moral failing, or a weakness, it's a human survival tactic. We want the thing that makes us feel good, that keeps the loneliness at bay, that stops us from feeling bad things even if they do that by keeping us from feeling anything at all. Our brains want that dopamine shot, even when reasonably we know whatever is giving us that shot is bad for us.

Getting past an addiction is hard no matter what that addiction is. I try to tell people that they need to find something to redirect that craving towards. For one of my loved ones we're working on finding a painting class and a book club because they've realized that a lot of their relapsing comes from feeling lonely. For you, maybe having a chew fidget would help, or keeping fruit on hand, or (if you're like me) purging your house of all sugary snacks. I can't keep sugar in my house or I'll eat it, so I don't buy it. It sucks, I want it, but I know myself and I know that the best way to keep myself from doing something is to try and remove as much temptation as possible.

It's much harder for me to justify leaving my house to go get candy than it is for me to get up and get a chocolate from the pantry. Or if I really want a sweetie, I have to figure out making it myself. Which means I can try and figure out a healthier option to make. Idk it's a long road, and something like sugar/caffeine/alcohol is so ingrained in our society that it feels impossible to avoid.

I have a friend who used heroin (now clean, I'm so proud of her) and she always said the hardest part of recovery was giving a shit about herself. She said there was always going to be part of her that wanted to use, so she had to make the rest of her louder, had to find reasons to care enough not to go back to her old habits. She got a lot of tattoos during her recovery, reconnected with her mom.

Not to say that addicts don't care about themselves, or that you don't care about yourself, I always thought she meant it more in the way of a parent caring for a child. You know, you don't let kids do something just because they want to because you care about keeping them safe. In the same way you sort of have to parent yourself. Say you've got sugar at home even though you don't, promise you'll make yourself donuts and then quit as soon as you get home because you don't want to boil oil. Learn to make croissants and then never make them again because they're such a fucking hassle. idk

You're not weak because you have trouble telling yourself no, people generally have trouble with that. You're just a person trying to listen to your body. It's just too bad your body isn't always a great judge of what's good for it.

[nausikaaa]

Stats Saturday (and Six Sentence Sunday)

hello! i'm kicking things off a day early because i cannot contain my excitement, I JUST BROKE 100K WORDS!!

i know to some writers this won't seem like a lot, i've certainly read many fics over 100K, but to me this is massive. a huge milestone. i keep whispering "one hundred thousand" to myself and grinning like an idiot. and the novel is about... halfway written, so far? hahah. i'm afraid.

so yeah, i'm posting early to share the excitement! today i offer more Helenus POV, a flashback in fact! here's his first meeting with Apollo, which is... well it's not great. Helenus is fourteen, for a start, and not too long ago Apollo cursed his twin sister Cassandra for refusing his advances, so he knows he can't exactly say no without suffering a similar fate. it's not too graphic a scene, all of this book will be strictly fade-to-black, but i'll put it under a cut all the same in case it's triggering to anyone.

psst- there are also lambs under the cut, feel free to scroll past the snippet if you're just here for them!

I learned from Cassandra's mistakes. I did not flinch or object as Apollo put his hands on me. His mouth was hot, his tongue insistant, but I went boneless in his arms. I wanted my mind to wander, to go somewhere else, but I could not. I was intimately aware of every sensation, his hands trailing paths of fire down my spine, bunched in my hair, slipping beneath my tunic. How any hands did he have? I felt overwhelmed, like I was about to tip over some vast precipice, but I dared not pull away.

i really try to make every character i write understandable on some level, but also not perfect. they are all flawed and complicated, because people are like that. even the gods, as reflections of humans, have their flaws.

so, for all Helenus is really put through the wringer in this novel, he's not without sin. he knows Apollo hurt Cassandra, but he still falls in love with him anyway and she rightly feels extremely betrayed. he later fucks over Andromache almost unforgivably because Apollo tells him to.

was he groomed? yeah. but did he also benefit massively for a while at the expense of others from being a god's favourite? absolutely. and he will ultimately have to make peace with the decisions he made and the ones that were made for him.

meanwhile Apollo is incredibly shady and abusive, but also, i hope, understandable. he's a god, what do a few years difference matter to him? yes, he manipulates Helenus, but he knows that it's to eventually get him in a good position. he does a hell of a lot better than most Trojan men. nobody can deny that Apollo saves his life multiple times.

and he's not just setting Helenus up, he's setting up an entire dynasty, Helenus' descendants include Alexander the Great and Pyrrhus of Epirus, who gave us the term "pyrrhic victory" today. as the god of prophecy and drinking buddy of the Fates, it's not only his job but his cosmic purpose to make sure the pieces fall into place, and he figures soft power is better than simply ordering Helenus about.

also! two more lambs have been born! their mama is black, their dad is white, and they... are one of each! as always, you can see more of them over on my instagram.

i tag @forabeatofadrum @cutestkilla @run-for-chamo-miles @roomwithanopenfire @prettygoododds @bookish-bogwitch @youarenevertooold @that-disabled-princess @noblecorgi @orange-peony @larkral @confused-bi-queer @aristocratic-otter @artsyunderstudy @thewholelemon @alexalexinii @hushed-chorus @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @martsonmars @meanjeansjeans @leithillustration @j-trow-95 and @blackberrysummerblog

[caenith]

But Túrin, deeming himself now an outlaw and fearing to be held captive, refused Mablung’s bidding, and turned swiftly away;

Every time I reread this chapter of the Silm/the CoH I am violently reminded how bizarre this whole scene is and how extra Turin is.

Mablung: Dude, let's just talk to the king, there are multiple witnesses, I'm sure he will just say it was a terrible accident.

Turin: NO I AM NOW AN OUTLAW

Mablung: No, just listen...

Turin: I MUST GO INTO EXILE

Mablung: 😐

[mythology-void]

okay so I was doing a Research™️ about ancient Greek etymology as one does and I found some Things that made me want to Violently Claw My Arms Off please allow me to force feed you my discoveries

So there are 2 words for "not" in ancient Greek, depending on the context: ou and mē. Having introduced himself in the Cyclops episode as " ou tis", or No-man, he then stabs Polyphemus in the eye. When Polyphemus' brothers come to check on him, they say this:

"... surely no man [mē tis] is carrying off your sheep? Surely no man [mē tis] is trying to kill you either by fraud or by force?"

Right after this, after the other cyclopes ditch Polyphemus, Odysseus's inner monologue goes something like this:

"Then they went away, and I laughed inwardly at the success of my clever strategem [metis]." (pronounced mEH-Tis)

Now, there's a difference between mē tis and metis. [mē tis] (pronounced mEH-Tis with a space between the syllables) is the literal translation for "no man". Metis is a word for extreme intelligence/cunning, which is something Odysseus is famous for.

Now, there are several examples of abuse of metis/intelligence in the Odyssey, but I think the juxtaposition between [mē tis], or the concept of anonymity, and metis, or extreme intelligence, is REALLY interesting. Odysseus's adoption of the title "No-man" was characteristic of metis--it was a really smart move that simultaneously hid him from the cyclops and avoided any future consequences. It was a highly effective strategy all wrapped up in a nest little package with a bow on it.

But when he revealed himself as Odysseus of Ithaca, effectively throwing off No-man (anonymity and [mē tis]), that was characterized as idiocy--he's essentially doxxed himself, and now he's doing to (spoiler alert) get tossed around the Mediterranean by Poseidon for the next 10 years.

This is really interesting because it lets you see the parallels/codependency between metis(intelligence) and humility. When Odysseus refused to allow himself to go unnoticed (hubris) he suffered for it. BUT when he declined instant glory/satisfaction (kleos) in order to achieve the long term goal of survival, he was rewarded with Athena's favor (pay attention. This part is important).

And this situation repeats itself MULTIPLE TIMES in the Odyssey--the EXACT SAME THING happens near the end of the book, with the suitors. When. Odysseus is dressed as a beggar and the suitors/Antinious are abusing him, he ACTIVELY CHOOSES not to react--he doesn't stand up and rip off his disguise and start hollering "TIS I, ODYSSEUS OF ITHACA! FEAR MY WRATH"

No. He sits there patiently and waits. He plans and schemes and quietly orchestrates their downfall without alerting them of it. Why? Because he learned his lesson the first time this happened. He buried his rage and adopted what was, according to Grace LA Franz, a more feminine form of metis, weaving a web of destruction for his enemies that ultimately resulted in their total annihilation (see Weaving a Way to Nostos: Odysseus and Feminine Metis in the Odyssey by Grace LaFranz). His patience allowed him to win the whole prize--no questions asked, no 10-year-long-business-trip strings attached--just the sweetness of a full victory. And he is, once again, rewarded with Athena's favor--both in the battle with the suitors and in the aftermath (cleanup/reuniting with Penelope).

This really reinforces the idea in the Odyssey that Odysseus's defining characteristic is not just his intelligence--it's his ability to learn from his mistakes. He used what he learned at the Lotus Eaters Island against Polyphemus--the Lotus Eaters drugged his men, so he drugged Polyphemus. He used what he learned from Circe and Polyphemus against the suitors--Circe used false sweetness and honeyed words to lure his men into a trap, so that's exactly what he did to the suitors. His hubris on Polyphemus' island cost his whole crew their lives, so he intentionally left well enough alone until the right time. He didn't just learn from his failures--he turned them into BATTLE STRATEGY.

i don't care what anyone says that is completely totally and objectively awesome

[fatecantstopme]

Spell Bound

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: It's sex pollen...I couldn't help myself.

Warnings: cursing, use of pet names. An excessive amount of heavy SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), rough sex, oral (F receiving), multiple cream pies

"I freaking hate witches," Dean mumbled as he picked the lock on the apartment door.

You chuckled softly, very used to hearing him grumble every time you were hunting a witch.

He slowly walked into the apartment and you followed in after him.

"So what exactly are we looking for?" you asked quietly.

"Big scary magic book. Sam said it's probably on or near some kind of altar."

"Big scary magic book," you muttered under your breath. "Makes perfect sense."

You sighed as you walked into the living room and noticed several bookcases lined with large books. "You've gotta be kidding me."

Dean shot you a weary smile. "Guess it might take a little longer than I thought."

"You think?"

You took one side of the room and Dean took the other. Sam had described the look of the book to the both of you, but there was really no way to be 100% certain if you found it.

About 15 minutes into your perusal, you spotted a large leather-bound book tucked under what appeared to be an altar cloth. You slowly removed the cloth, wary of what you might uncover. The book was almost exactly as Sam had described, so you had a feeling it was the right one.

"I think I found it," you said aloud.

At almost the same exact moment, a crash sounded from behind you and Dean let out a string of curses.

You spun around to see the hunter brushing off some sort of florescent pink dust from his face. "What the hell did you do?"

"I was moving some of the books and this box fell out and some powder just kinda...sprayed my face."

"Seriously?"

He looked sheepish. "I didn't even see it."

You sighed. "Great. God only knows what the hell that was."

He looked at the box carefully, but there was nothing written on it to identify the powdery substance he had inhaled. He gave you another sheepish look and shrugged. "Maybe it's not harmful."

You shot him a stony look. "Dean...it's a witch. It's not gonna be fairy dust."

He sighed, knowing you were right. He started shifting his shoulders a bit as if he was uncomfortable.

"Let's get out of here. I'll call Sam on the way back to the motel and see if he has any idea what it could be."

Dean nodded and followed you out the door. By the time you got outside the building and to the car, he was twitching like an addict in need of a fix.

"Dean?" you asked tentatively.

"My skin feels like it's on fire and--and it's like--itchy. And there's a weird feeling inside that I can't describe, but it doesn't feel nice."

"Okay...how 'bout I drive?"

He looked up at you with concerned eyes, but he handed you the keys and got into the passenger seat. You knew he must really be feeling terrible if he was letting you drive Baby.

You started the car up and pulled out of the parking spot while simultaneously calling Sam on your cell. He answered on the third ring.

"Dean got some sort of witchy powder on his face and now he's...itchy?" you said quickly in lieu of a greeting.

Sam sighed. "What are his symptoms?"

You put the phone on speaker. "Dean, what are your symptoms?"

Dean couldn't look at you and when he spoke, his voice was barely above a growl. "I feel like crawling out of my own skin, everything aches, and I'm having a hard time breathing right. Oh and I can literally smell (Y/N)'s skin, which is totally not normal!"

"You can smell my skin?"

He grumbled under his breath. "I can smell your skin and your shampoo and your goddamn body wash, and I want--fuck. What the hell is wrong with me, Sam?"

"Uh, I honestly don't know. Let me call Bobby and see if he has any ideas."

You set the phone down on the seat beside you. "Maybe you're turning into some kind of animal?"

"What?"

"Well, I mean...you can smell me...which is weird and kind of--animalistic."

"I don't think that's it," he said harshly. "My body is aching in a way I can't even begin to describe to you, but I don't think I'm morphing into anything."

You eyed him carefully, worry etched into your face. He was your closest friend and trusted hunting partner, and you hated seeing him like this. Witches scared the shit out of you...you knew what they were capable of.

"Maybe drive a little faster," he hissed.

You pressed harder on the gas and the Impala shot down the road. When your phone rang, you answered it immediately.

"So I think I might know what it is, but I have something I need to ask Dean first," Sam said.

"Okay." You looked at Dean. "Can you hold the phone? Sam wants to ask you something."

Dean took the phone from your hand, hissing as his skin made contact with yours. "What?" he grumbled.

"This is gonna be awkward, but I need to know, okay? Do you feel--umm--aroused at all?"

Dean was silent for a moment as he let his brother's question sink in. Ohhh fuuuuck, he thought to himself. He glanced down at his jeans and noticed the bulge straining against them. With the intense pain he was experiencing, he hadn't really noticed. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled. "Yeah."

"Okay, well the good news is, I know what it is. It's called sex pollen."

"It's called what?"

"Sex pollen. The name doesn't really matter, but you have all the symptoms. They're only going to get worse until--well until you die."

"Die? Is there a cure?"

You looked over at Dean in terror, your foot pressing down even further on the pedal. Dean's hand was shaking slightly as he put the phone on speaker so you could hear.

"You have to--uhh--well--shit. You have to umm...fuck it out."

"I have to what?"

"Dude, I know, okay? But you don't have a choice. If you don't you'll die a rather painful death."

"Son of a bitch," Dean said again. "Can I, umm, take care of it myself?"

"According to what Bobby read, the only option is actual intercourse with another person."

"How long do I have?"

You were acutely aware of Dean's close proximity to you, and now you understood the nature of his pain. Your own breathing was more labored, but you desperately tried to maintain control of yourself. Don't make it weird, (Y/N), you thought to yourself.

"30 minutes from the time of contact until...until death," Sam answered.

"30 minutes?" you gasped. You started doing the math in your head as Dean continued talking to his brother. "We have maybe 10 more minutes until we get back to the motel and that leaves about 10 until..."

Dean looked over at you, his normally green eyes dark with need. "I'm so fucked," he muttered.

"That doesn't really leave us time to find someone for you to--you know," you said worriedly.

"Shit."

"Might wanna make it fast," Sam said.

"Obviously," Dean snapped. "How long will it take to...get out of my system?"

"That depends," Sam began. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."

"Another story?"

"It could take a lot longer."

"Great," you mumbled.

"Sam, don't be there when we get there," Dean growled at his brother before hanging up the phone.

"Dean?" you questioned softly.

"Just drive, (Y/N)."

You continued driving, but your focus was most definitely not on the road. You could hear the heavy breathing and the soft pained sounds coming from the man beside you and it made it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else. It certainly didn't help that you had wanted him for years and seeing him like this was making you feel things you absolutely shouldn't be feeling.

Dean flirted with you regularly, but he flirted with almost every person he came into contact with. It's just a part of his personality, so you never read into it. While Dean quite obviously adored you (and you him), you were not his type. You were a good fighter, sure, but where you really excelled was research. You were brilliant--almost as knowledgable as Bobby, though you still had plenty to learn. You were also significantly more--voluptuous than the women Dean gravitated to. Soft, chubby, more to love--whatever you wanna call it. As such, you'd never made any sort of move to announce your feelings for him. You didn't want to face his rejection.

"Sweetheart, if you don't speed up, I'm liable to die before we make it there," Dean hissed.

You shot him a look. "We're less than two minutes away, so don't die on me yet, Winchester."

He exhaled sharply and nodded. "I'm not gonna make it either way, (Y/N). Like you said, we don't have enough time to find a, uh--partner."

You took a deep breath. "I can't let you die."

He looked over at you and you felt his gaze boring right into your soul. "I can't do that to you."

"I really don't see how we have much of a choice here."

You pulled into the motel parking lot before he could respond.

"Let's go," you said quickly as you got out of the car and made your way to your room.

Dean was right behind you, so close you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. As soon as the door was unlocked, Dean was pushing you through it and locking it behind you.

"Shit," he muttered. "I don't wanna hurt you."

"It's okay, Dean," you said softly. "I'm not afraid."

His eyes widened and he grabbed your chin. "You should be...I'm going to lose control."

"It's alright...use me."

He let out a low growl and squeezed your chin tighter. "I--I won't be able to make this good for you."

You pressed yourself against his body, feeling the hard ridges against you. "It's not about me. You need this."

That was all it took for Dean to let go. His lips attacked yours with a hunger you were not expecting despite the intensity of the situation. He was not at all gentle as he tore your clothes from your body, ripping his own off with equal force.

He tossed you down on the bed with shocking ease. He had absolutely no difficulty manhandling you. You weren't sure if it was the sex pollen or just him.

His lips and hands were everywhere, touching every inch of your soft skin he could possibly reach. He needed to be inside of you so badly it was almost impossible to breathe. His skin burned with each touch and his instincts screamed at him to just break you.

He moves his way down your body and you're surprised as he stops just above your core. "Dean, what are you doing?" You knew he needed a release--and soon--or he wasn't gonna make it.

A voice in the back of his mind kept reminding him this was (Y/N), his (Y/N). Even in his current state, he wanted to avoid hurting you if he could. "Need to get you ready," he grunted.

The words were barely out of his mouth before he was devouring your pussy. The sounds he made were incredible, the feeling almost electrifying. He slid two fingers in and moved them in a scissoring motion to help loosen you up.

He was only down there for a 30 seconds before he came up and locked eyes with you. "I can't hold off anymore."

You nodded. "Just let go. I'll be okay."

He knew the moment he slid inside you, he'd be a goner. Whatever tiny amount of self control he'd managed to hang onto would disappear in an instant. But he could also feel the roaring agony inside him and he needed to feed it before it devoured him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against your ear a split second before he sheathed himself fully inside you.

You cried out--pain mixing with pleasure as his large member stretched you in ways you'd never before experienced.

Dean couldn't give you time to adjust--he was too far gone. His hips began to move and his sole focus was on his own pleasure--his own release.

His thrusts were powerful and fast, so much so that your body started to scoot farther up the bed. He grabbed your hips and held you in place, pace never faltering. The sensations were almost painful given his size, but you wouldn't have stopped him even if you could have.

"Fuck, baby--you feel so good," he grunted.

You were more than a little surprised when he spoke--you hadn't pegged him as a dirty talker. Then again, it could very well have been the pollen. The same could be said of the sounds coming from his mouth. You'd never heard such sinful noises and you loved them.

"So tight--squeezing me so good. Feels like heaven."

You squeezed his cock purposefully, making him groan each time you clenched down. He needed his release and you were gonna make sure he got it. Your own enjoyment was far from your mind--this was essentially a transaction--a lifesaving measure. You had to view it that way to protect your heart...at least that's what you told yourself.

"Baby," he moaned. "Imma fill you up--so close."

Despite the voice in your head telling you this wasn't real--that you shouldn't have any emotional attachments--you reached up and touched his face, caressing it lovingly. "Cum for me, Dean," you whispered.

His eyes locked on yours and he bit his lip--hearing you say his name in the heat of the moment was a bigger turn on than he'd ever imagined. It pushed him right over the edge and he spilled inside of you with a grunt.

You lay beneath him, panting despite the minimal exertion on your part. He'd had his orgasm, but he was still moving, much to your surprise. "You're not done--?"

He shook his head. "Need more."

He pulled out and quickly flipped you over with no warning. You instinctively lifted your hips to allow him access, which he took without hesitation. His cock was still throbbing and the need still burned in his veins. His mind remained singularly focused on his relief--his pleasure.

He slammed into your pussy and set a brutal pace, earning a cry of pain from your lips. This new angle allowed him better access, sending his cock deeper inside of you. His head brushed against your cervix with each thrust, a stinging pain accompanying the pleasure.

Dean's large palm came down on your ass with a hard smack, eliciting a gasp of surprise from your lips. Your pussy clamped down on his cock as he landed another slap to your round cheek.

"Fuck baby, you like that don't you?" Smack. "You like it when I slap this sexy ass?" Smack. "Fuck--squeezing me so tight, sweetheart." Smack.

He was right though, you loved it. You always had, but there was something extra enjoyable about having your ass smacked by Dean Fucking Winchester. Even if you couldn't verbally express your pleasure to him, your pussy made it well-known.

Dean's right hand gripped your hips tightly, pulling you flush against him as he continued pumping. His left hand trailed up your back until he grabbed a fist full of hair at the base of your neck and pulled. Your head snapped back and you cried out, but you didn't fight him.

"Do you know how badly I've wanted to pull this hair, pretty girl? Fuck--I think about it all the time." His pace was relentless and his hand remained entangled in your hair.

You'd never really noticed him looking at your hair in any particular way, so you assumed once again the pollen was making him say such dirty little things.

After several more thrusts, Dean let go of your hair and pushed down on your upper back, forcing you to press your upper body into the mattress. Dean gripped your hips with both of his hands and slammed into you with an intensity that was unmatched by any of his previous actions.

You had a feeling he was close to another orgasm, at least if his grunts and curses were anything to go by. You clenched down around him again, intent on pushing him past the brink.

It worked like a charm. Dean came with a cry of your name, thrusts continuing as he emptied inside of you once again.

You were exhausted and you hadn't had a single orgasm. Part of you really hoped Dean had gotten it all out of his system, but another part of you didn't want this to end. Even if it wasn't real--even if he didn't actually want to be having sex with you, you liked pretending, if only for a little while.

Dean pulled out of you slowly and rolled you over with a surprising gentleness. You assumed that meant he was satiated and the pollen was out of his system.

When you met his eyes, you were surprised by how brilliantly green they were. You'd almost gotten used to the dark forest color that had taken over as a result of the pollen. He was looking at you with an odd expression you couldn't quite place, but for some reason it made you want to scurry away and hide.

"Better?" you whispered.

He cocked his head to the side and a small smirk played on his lips. "Not even close," he murmured.

His lips met yours in a fiery kiss before you had time to respond. Unlike the previous kisses, this one was more passionate, more intense. It made your body tingle all over and a warmth spread through your veins.

Dean's brain fog had finally cleared enough that he could actually slow down and focus on what was happening--on what he was doing, or rather who. He hated that he'd cum twice without even thinking about you, let alone making you orgasm. Dean prided himself on being an excellent lover and he wasn't about to let you leave this bed unsatisfied.

His cock brushed against your pussy as he shifted to hold you closer. You both inhaled sharply, enjoying the sensation. Dean's lips began to travel down your neck, leaving soft, wet kisses in his wake. He nipped at your pulse point, earning an excited moan from you. He liked hearing that sound, so he sucked on that spot until you were panting heavily beneath him.

His hands traveled over your soft curves, touching and squeezing all the parts of your body you were self-conscious about. Dean didn't seem to give a damn that your stomach wasn't flat, that your hips weren't narrow and your thighs weren't skinny--in fact, he seemed to be reveling in the feeling of softness.

His lips were so gentle as he continued his downward movements. He kissed and licked and sucked on each of your breasts, spending several minutes focusing on each one. "You have such perfect breasts," he murmured.

You were too surprised, and perhaps too lost in pleasure, to formulate any kind of response to his words. Luckily, he didn't seem to need one, and he refocused his attention on you.

Once he was satisfied your breasts had received enough love, he continued moving down your stomach, stopping to place soft kisses to every mark and scar he saw.

When he reached your sweet pussy, he spread your legs as wide as he could and settled down between them. You were surprised at his actions, especially since you knew he was still hard--that he still needed another release.

Dean was now singularly focused on one thing--and that was you. Now that his damn brain was working properly, he wanted to make sure you enjoyed this--even if it was a one time thing because you didn't want him to die, he wasn't about to walk away from this without making you scream his name at least once.

He breathed in deeply, smelling your arousal mixed with his own spend, and he smirked. His eyes flicked up to yours and his mouth latched onto your clit, unleashing an overwhelming assault on your swollen mound.

You gasped as the sudden pleasure washed over you. You couldn't take your eyes off the man between your legs--nor did he take his eyes off you. Every time your hips bucked or you tried to move, his strong arms held you in place so he could continue to watch you.

You were writhing against the sheets in what felt like seconds--it was probably longer, but either way you felt embarrassed at how quickly you fell apart under his touch. Your orgasm tore through you like a hurricane, broken moans dripping from your lips.

To your shock, and perhaps concern, Dean didn't stop his assault on your pussy. Even as you tried to squirm away, he held you in place, desperate to give you another orgasm. You whimpered that it was too much, begged him to give you a break, but all of those words quickly morphed into pleas to keep going--don't stop.

"Dean," you gasped as your fingers slipped into his hair, grabbing hold of the short locks by the roots. Your nails scrapped lightly against his scalp and he let out a soft groan.

His tongue seemed to dance across your clit, creating beautiful designs and languages only he seemed to know. He paid attention to what motions made you quiver, which ones made you moan, and which ones had you tugging on his hair with an iron grip.

"Dean, please--I--so close," you moaned.

He smiled, enjoying the immense pleasure he was giving you just as much as you seemed to enjoy it. A few moments later, you were once again coming apart against his mouth and he eagerly lapped up everything you had to give him.

This time as you tugged on his hair and squirmed away, he obliged, lifting himself up from between your thighs. He licked his lips as he looked down at your blissed out face.

"You taste like heaven, baby," he murmured. "Wanna taste?"

Your pretty (y/e/c) eyes widened and you nodded hesitantly. He smiled wolfishly as he leaned down to kiss you, tongue invading your mouth almost instantly, allowing you to taste yourself.

You moaned into the kiss and he held you even more tightly, lips sealed to yours like he needed your air to breathe.

He wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed to control his urges long enough to coax two orgasms from you, but he could feel that control waning. "I need you, baby," he whispered against your lips. "I need you so badly."

You looked up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. You lifted your hips to brush against his cock and he groaned at the contact. You nipped at his jaw and pulled him back down to you. "Fuck me, Dean. Please."

He groaned. "Yes ma'am."

He didn't hesitate as he gripped his cock firmly and lined it up with your entrance. He slipped inside easily, having plenty of lubrication to assist him. Despite having been inside of you multiple times at this point, he was still taken aback by how fucking incredible you felt.

"God, I love this pussy," he murmured. "She was made for me."

You moaned softly at his words and the feeling of him inside you once again. As he started to move, he was much more gentle and you found yourself enjoying the sensations--perhaps more than you should.

"You're so good for me, (Y/N)," Dean mumbled, already lost in the feeling of you.

You would have given anything to hear him say that, but the words broke your heart a little. Had he had any other choice, he likely wouldn't be here right now--you wouldn't be the one he was fucking.

"Hey," he whispered, a rough, calloused hand running along your cheek as he looked at you. "Where's that pretty little head at?"

You smiled at him. "Right here, Dean."

Somewhere inside of him, he knew you were lying, but the damn pollen was still affecting his senses. He accepted your response and went back to his actions, focusing on the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock like a vise.

He wanted to feel you cum one more time...wanted to feel the way you'd squeeze his cock as you came. He wanted to watch you come undone beneath him, lost in pleasure he gave you.

He grabbed a pillow and gently lifted your hips, sliding the pillow under them. This provided him a new, improved angle, allowing him to cage you beneath him and hit that sweet spot inside you.

"Dean!" you gasped as the first thrust hit your g-spot.

He grinned and picked up his pace, slamming into it repeatedly. Each thrust sent you closer to the edge of an orgasm you knew would ruin you. Dean Winchester already made you feel things no other man ever had and his ability in bed was no exception. Damn him.

His thrusts were firm and measured, each one sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through your body. The familiar tightening in your gut was so intense you thought you might actually explode.

Dean's strong arms were on either side of your head and he was looking down at you with that same strange expression from earlier. "You're so damn beautiful, baby. I wanna watch this pretty face as you cum for me."

You gasped, unprepared for the way his words made you feel. You felt emboldened, so you asked for what you needed. "I need more, Dean."

His hand slipped between your bodies, a single finger gently massaging your clit as he continued to fuck you. "That better, baby?"

You nodded rapidly, earning a soft chuckle from his sweet lips.

"You gonna cum for me beautiful?"

You nodded again.

"Yeah? I want you to keep those pretty eyes open when you cum, okay? Wanna see you fall apart."

"Dean..." you whispered.

"I know, sweet girl. I've got you."

Your brain seemed to short-circuit in that moment. All you could feel was a blinding hot pressure immediately followed by an intense euphoria. You heard someone scream "Dean!" and you belatedly realized it had been your voice.

The intensity of your orgasm sent Dean spiraling over the edge of his own. He hadn't even been prepared for it--the mixture of you screaming his name and the sensations of you squeezing him so tightly and the gorgeous way your face contorted as you came was all he needed.

He emptied into you a third and final time, his cock finally beginning to soften as he helped you ride out your high.

He pulled out and flopped down beside you on the bed, his body aching from what had to be some of the best sex of his life--sex pollen or not.

You were just as sore as Dean--probably more so given you literally couldn't move. The two of you laid there in silence, slowly coming down from the electrical highs you'd experienced, both trying to catch your breath for the first time in what felt like hours.

Dean was the first to recover. "Did I hurt you?" he asked so softly you almost didn't hear him.

You turned your head to look at him and your heart clenched at the expression on his face. He was genuinely worried, brows furrowed in concern. You contemplated lying to him, but you knew he'd see right through you.

"A little," you said honestly.

He winced and his beautiful eyes closed. "I'm so sorry, (Y/N)--I would never hurt you on purpose--ever."

You offered him a small smile he couldn't see, until your hand touched his cheek and he opened his eyes again. "I know."

There were a thousand other things you wanted to say--a thousand words you wanted to string together into just the right sentences, but you couldn't. You wouldn't put yourself through it.

"Shower?" he asked softly.

"I honestly don't think I can stand."

A smirk played on his lips. "That should not make me feel so damn good."

You laughed lightly, glad to hear the teasing tone in his voice that you loved so much.

He managed to pull himself into a sitting position. "It's not ideal, but there is a bathtub..." he trailed off.

"I wouldn't mind a bath," you admitted.

He nodded and got to his feet. He was a little unsteady at first, but managed to make his way to the bathroom. You heard the water running as he filled up the tub.

You laid there thinking about everything that had just happened. This was a position you'd never imagined you'd be in--with anyone, let alone Dean Winchester.

You knew this wasn't something you were going to be able to forget about, but you hoped things would go back to normal between the two of you and eventually this would just be a funny story.

Suddenly, Sam's words from earlier snapped into your mind. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."

One and done...one and done. This most definitely had not been a 'one and done' scenario. But didn't that mean...? No. No way. Impossible. Dean Winchester does NOT have feelings for you.

You began to rationalize your thought process. Maybe "care about" included a friendly relationship. Yeah...yeah that made the most sense. Of course Dean cares about you. You're his best friend. There couldn't possibly be anything more to it...right?

As if on cue, Dean stepped back into the room. "Bath's ready."

"Okay." You tried to pull yourself up, but you immediately fell back against the mattress, body too worn out to sustain any kind of movement.

Dean chuckled lightly and came up to the side of the bed. He pulled the pillow out from under your hips and slipped his arms under your body, hoisting you up bridal style.

"Jesus!" you yelled. "Put me down! I'm too heavy--you'll throw out your back."

Dean laughed. "Calm down, (Y/N). I just threw you around this bed repeatedly with zero issues. I promise I can carry you to the bathroom without dying."

"But--"

He glared at you and tightened his grip on you as if to prove his point. "Ain't a damn thing wrong with your body, so shut it."

Your mouth closed immediately. His words sent a jolt directly to your core and you were almost annoyed by it. As if three orgasms wasn't enough...

Dean very gently set you on your feet in the bathroom and slowly helped you into the tub. As soon as he got you into a seated position, he got into the tub as well, slipping in behind you.

"Umm...whatcha doing?"

"Taking a bath."

"Isn't the tub a bit small for both of us?"

You could feel him shrug behind you. "I think it's perfect size. Now come here." He grabbed your shoulders and gently pulled you back so you were laying against his chest. "That's better," he muttered.

Your mind began to race once again as you laid there, body tense and uncomfortable.

"Okay, (Y/N), I know you better than anyone, so don't you dare lie to me. Where's your head at?"

"I--" you sighed. "I'm not really sure how to feel."

He nodded. "I know you didn't want this--I feel like I had to literally force myself onto you and I hate that. I know you only agreed so I wouldn't die, but--"

"Woah--stop." You sat up and turned your head to face him. "That's not true at all. You didn't force me to do anything."

"Okay, maybe 'force' is the wrong word...but you did have sex with me to save my life. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

"I'm painfully aware," you muttered.

He ran his hand over his face. "I'm not saying any of this right."

"Then what are you trying to say?"

He bit his lip. "Remember what Sammy said? About...how long the effects would last?"

You nodded.

"Well in case you didn't notice, I had three orgasms."

"Both me and my very sore vagina noticed," you said lightly.

He sighed. "Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, (Y/N)?"

You turned a little more so you could see his face better. He had that same look he'd had when he was making you feel incredible. "I need to hear you say it..." you whispered.

He nodded and leaned forward so his face was mere inches from yours. "He didn't mean 'care' as in 'we're friends, so I care about you'...he meant 'care' as in 'love'."

Your lips parted and you inhaled sharply.

"So you see, I don't just care about you as a friend...and I don't just love you as a friend...I'm in love with you."

"You--you love me?"

"In love," he repeated. "For as long as I can remember."

"You're in love--with me?"

He chuckled softly. "Who else would I be talking to, baby? Yes, I'm in love with you."

"I--I don't know--" you stuttered.

"The only thing you need to know is how you feel. Do you know how you feel about me, (Y/N)?" he whispered.

You nodded slowly.

"And?"

"I'm in love with you too."

He grinned widely. "Yeah?"

You nodded, cheeks turning red.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back against him. He looked down at you with that expression he'd been wearing and you suddenly realized what it was...it was love--real, true, beautiful, heart aching love.

He leaned down and placed a soft kiss to your lips, which you returned in kind. He held you tightly, loving the feeling of your body in his arms.

"We better get cleaned up before this water gets cold," he said softly, lips pressing to your hair.

"Mhmm," you hummed.

He chuckled. "Don't you dare fall asleep on me, babe."

"But I'm comfortable," you whined.

He smiled against your cheek. "Give me five minutes to clean you up and then we can sleep, okay?"

You looked over at him and smiled. "Deal."

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[reiderwriter]

🫂 Transference 🫂

Pairing: Spencer Reid x virgin!Fem Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Summary: He saves your life, and he keeps saving it every day, but Spencer won't let you love him until you finally beg him to. Is transference really that much of an issue?

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Mentions of Case details - reader is the unsub victim, mentions of rape and attempted rape, gunshot, death, kidnapping, imprisonment, parental neglect, abandonment, loss of virginity (positive), semi-public sex, bathroom sex, fingering, penetrative sex (p in v), missionary, praise kink (good girl), moaning kink (?), safe sex, slight cum play/ oral, aftercare.

A/N: I wrote a virgin reader fic for kinktober that people loved a lot (thank you all!), and I had a lot of requests for something similar, so please - enjoy!

Masterlist || Bingo Board

You'd met him at the library, as if the world wanted you to forever associate the comfort you found in between the pages of a worn book with the man that tried to end your life. At first, you'd thought it a coincidence, then he'd flashed a smile at you, and you'd believed it to be fate, drawn in by the charm he wore as a disguise. 

Your first date was sweet, flowers and dinner. Your second date was sweeter, and they kept on that way. Sugar dropped into your ears until you were floating on cloud nine, right as he turned his charm off. 

“Really?” He started one day, his tone accusing from the get-go. 

“What?” 

“You're really going to eye fuck that man in front of me?” His voice was loud enough to catch notice in the small café you'd joined him in for the morning, and all the life drained out of your face. 

“I'm not- what?”

“No, forget it,” he chuffed, taking another sip of his drink and turning away from you. 

You noticed it more and more from then on, how he would accuse you of small things like looking at other men, like you had the choice to ignore them when they were shop clerks, bus drivers and just fucking people living their lives. 

Your friends were even weirded out when you joked with them about it, telling them all about your silly boyfriend who ripped a poster off your wall because it had some actor or singer or something on it. It wasn't even that important to you, but as you laughed, you were greeted with silence, with sideways glances and concerning questions. 

It was all starting to crumble, and there was nothing you could do to stop it but cling on. 

The next thing was his pushiness. You'd been up front with him at the beginning of the relationship that you were a virgin, something that he was more than happy about. 

He'd said it was because he was a man of God, and he understood your commitment, which confused you as you weren't a virgin for religious reasons. But you brushed it off as everything else about him was so… gentlemanly? 

Until he started pushing his hands up your thighs when he kissed you. He tried multiple times to push his fingers into your underwear as you tried to pull back, each time apologizing immediately when you displayed more panicked displeasure. 

“I'm sorry, something must have… The devil got to me for a second there, Y/N, but I won't let him win.” He kissed the top of your head, and he walked you to your door before giving you another chaste kiss and leaving. 

They found the first body the next morning.

She was young, maybe 16 or 17. Beaten, raped, mutilated, and asphyxiated. They said he'd kept raping her body long after she'd taken her last breath. It took them two weeks to notify her parents because of the way he'd left her. 

You'd watched the news report the same week with your boyfriend, shocked and horrified at the news and cuddling closer to him for comfort. 

Each step you came closer to him, each time you allowed him to touch you, he took it as a sign of his ownership, his claim on you. Not a single other person could get in between him and his prize. Each time you rejected him, he killed another girl. 

By body five, they'd called in the BAU. 

“Did you hear they're bringing in the FBI to solve that Cathy Renaud case? It's all over the news. Apparently, the team is super special.” 

You'd brought up the words while cooking him breakfast. He didn't live with you, but any good girlfriend would feed their man, so he woke you up every day on his way to work to let you prepare him something. 

His whole attention was on his phone, though, as he nodded through your conversation, grunting and moaning at each word. 

It was only when you brought him his plate of pancakes that you realized that he was just as interested in the subject as you were. Because he was staring at the photos of the girl he mutilated the night before. 

You didn't want to think about everything that happened after that. After the plate fell to the floor and cracked, splintering into your foot and causing you your first injury in a long line. 

You didn't want to think about the things he showed you, the way he touched you, or at least tried to. You heaved and wretched and emptied your stomach every single time you thought about the restraints on your wrists, how he'd tried to rape you but couldn't bring himself to do it because you weren't young enough anymore. You weren't dead enough.  

Instead, every time you thought back to that week, you found yourself back at the end. You replayed the bullet lodging into his brain as a comfort, which told you more than you needed to know about your mental state. It was Spencer Reid who'd shot him. He'd been quick enough to realize that the man would never have been talked down, and he'd fired the shot as a mercy to you. He may have killed your boyfriend, putting him down like he was a sick animal, but you were the one put out of your misery. 

He didn't stop to watch the body hit the floor before falling to your side, the other agents clearing the room and checking the corpse. He'd helped you to your feet, drawn an arm around your waist and pushed your head into his chest so you didn't have to see the carnage on the way out, didn't have to deal with the camera flashes as the press scrambled for pictures of the monster's willing victim. 

“One step at a time, this isn't your fault. Just stick with me,” he said, moving you from the house to a waiting van as you clasped his vest desperately, needing the lifeline he'd thrown you. 

“Ma'am, ma'am. I'm a paramedic, I won't hurt you, I just need to take your vitals, make sure you're okay.” 

The voice was vague and in the distance, and you were so sure it wasn't directed at you that you simply let yourself wrap around the man who'd saved you when you got to the ambulance. Nothing else was around but his chest, his hand on your back, your legs wrapped around him as they finally gave out. 

“Ma'am… Please, you're injured-” 

“Y/N,” he spoke finally, and you grabbed him tighter, nails digging into the skin at his neck. 

“You're Y/N, right? We've been looking for you for a long time. I'm not going anywhere, I won't let anyone hurt you.” 

The words were enough to reassure you, pulling back slightly as the paramedics began working on you, but not enough for you to embrace their touch. You clambered away from the paramedic the moment you saw he was a man, close in build and coloring to the corpse in the building behind you. 

You screamed, you cried, you pounded at the doors as Spencer held to you him, letting the paramedics sedate you, rocking you to sleep on the step of the emergency vehicle.

He was by your bedside every time you woke up, too. It was funny seeing him there when you still didn't know his name. Your parents hadn't visited, too ashamed to be associated with the entire thing to even check in on you. 

He had himself assigned your emergency contact after six days of your parents not showing up. In all that time, he'd sat patiently by your side as you wailed and raged and went numb, and the cycle repeated itself in perpetuity. 

He was there, too, with a bag of clothes and a fresh start waiting for you when you were ready to be discharged. 

His team had since moved on to another criminal of the week, putting the lives lost behind them as they traipsed through more cases and corpses and killers. He was still there, though. Somehow. 

You were old enough to be able to discharge yourself from a hospital, old enough to not need a guardian to take care of you. Spencer stayed anyway, and you didn't bother asking why. 

“I don't want to leave the hospital,” you said, climbing back into the bed you'd forced yourself into for the last week. The same bed where the nurse had ran your rape kit even after you'd told her he'd never touched you like that, after you'd explained and denied and shouted to high hell that no-one had touched you like that and she sure as hell wasn't going to be the first. 

Spencer had put a stop to the traumatic experience when he'd returned with your coffee, always picking up something for you when he went out. 

The nurse had gripped and moaned and murmured an apology, and you knew you'd not been an easy patient, but you couldn't bring yourself to feel bad about it. 

That didn't mean you wanted to leave yet, though. 

“I can't leave, I have nowhere to live.”

“Y/N, you can't stay here forever.”

“Spencer, I can't go home. My apartment is a crime scene, I almost died there, and there are reporters posted there 247 waiting for me to come back. They think I'm evil, they-” 

“They think you're a victim,” he said calmly but firmly, cutting you off before you could spiral again. “Which you are. And you'll be a victim forever if you don't get out of that hospital bed and start moving on.” 

He dumped a bag on your bed, a bag you recognised as one of your own overnight bags from your apartment. He looked at you again, the question in his silence. 

Are you going to keep being his victim?

You huffed as you got out of your bed, throwing off the covers and standing in front of him. He didn't budge. 

“Well?” You asked, looking at him as he stood still, not moving even an inch. 

“Well, what?” He replied, eyebrows knitting. 

Instead of replying, you rolled your eyes and reached behind you to the ties in your hospital gown, opening it until you could pull it off your body before pulling out the clothes he'd left in the bag. 

You didn't glance at him again until you were fully naked, readying your underwear so you could pull it on. When you turned back to him, his gaze knocked the wind out of you. 

You'd stopped feeling like a woman the minute he'd carried out of that room. You were a child, a fragile doll, a specimen to be studied. For some of the nurses, you were an infection they could catch. 

Spencer Reid, against his better judgment, was looking at you like you were a woman. Like you were the object of his every desire. 

“S-Spencer…” you said suddenly feeling the shame and embarrassment of being naked suddenly in front of another person. You pulled the sweatshirt he'd packed you over your torso, covering all of your intimate areas as you stammered out your apology. 

“I- shit, I'm sorry-”

“I'll wait - I’ll wait outside. If you need anything you can… you can do whatever.” He said, dragging his eyes off of your body and letting them fall anywhere that you weren't. His eyes darted from the floor to the wall, to the air next to your head and finally to the door where he took himself out. 

You dressed in a hurry and followed him. 

“Spencer? Spencer, I'm ready,” you said, running down the hall to him and grabbing his arm, holding it for support and comfort, but mostly just to be close. 

Since waking up from that first sedation of many in those first few days, you hadn't been more than a few hours without having him hold you. 

His team had sent many warning looks watching you wrapped around him like a scared child, hiding behind him like a small, shaking dog. You hadn't seen a problem in it, truly clinging to him like a lifeline. 

After whatever the hell had just happened in your hospital room, though? Now you felt each solid ridge of him. You hadn't felt like a woman, sure  but you equally hadn't acknowledged Spencer as a man until then. A very attractive man. 

The stubble on his jaw only made it sharper. His gentle, curving eyes, cut at the corners by the start of laugh lines, his mouth straight and… and kissable. For the first time in months, definitely for the first time since you'd met your monster, maybe even for the first time ever, desire heated the depths of your stomach. 

Your breath hitched, and you held him tighter as he led you out of the ward and ushered you into your new life. 

“We're not going to your apartment. Your landlord released you from the lease for…obvious reasons after some persuading. Your parents-” 

“My parents?” You asked in disgusting, halting in the hall. For the first time since you'd left the room, he had to turn and look you in the eyes. He'd done his best to dampen the desire, but some part of you still recognised it, even as your logical brain fought to be heard. 

“Your parents agreed to fund three months in a new apartment. After which time, you will have a job and some stability, so you'll be able to pay for it yourself.”

You tried to argue and tried to talk back, but your tongue was thick. 

A new apartment. Living alone, being alone, for any amount of time, felt daunting. 

But Spencer took one more step towards the door and then another, and you had no choice but to walk with him, hand slipping down and grasping his like it was your lifeline. 

The drive to whatever new apartment your parents had leased for you was silent, and the storms in your head grew until they'd taken up so much space they erupted forth, darkening the actual skies. A crash of thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance just as he pulled into the building. Luckily for you, there was underground parking, so you didn't even need to contemplate letting the lightning hit you. 

There was one space left, and Spencer pulled his car in, flipping the engine off and getting out without another word. 

He led you up the stairs, then he led you to your floor, then he led you to your door and handed you the keys. 

You felt cold as you opened the doors, knowing you were about to confront items of boxes that had watched you be burned, cut, slapped, beaten.

There were no boxes behind the door. Everything had, to your shock, been unboxed and staged already. 

You recognised magnets on the fridge, stuffed animals on the bed when you made your way to your bedroom. Your toiletries were neatly tidied into your medicine cabinet, hell, even your bookshelves had your own dog-eared copies of books well past their prime. 

You had every comfort and joy without having to push yourself through the pain of thinking about where these items had last been kept. 

There were new things too. The couch was definitely second-hand, but it wasn't the one you'd brought at Goodwill the week after your college graduation. That one was stained red, no doubt, somewhere in a tip. There was bedding and sheets and blankets and plates and forks and knives - a whole household of items that someone had chosen. 

You turned back to Spencer and cried. You buried your face in his chest and wrapped yourself around him again as he held you. 

And then, realizing he'd been the one to orchestrate this, if not the one who had arranged everything himself, you pushed up on the balls of your feet, and you kissed him. 

For the few seconds it lasted, it was brilliance. The pressure on your lips after a second had your heart singing as he kissed you back, your hands balling into his shirt as you stepped closer and closer, needing to be wrapped around him, buried in safety and warmth. 

He pulled back and stepped out of your reach too quickly, the back of his hand reaching up to his mouth as if checking that it was still there, that he'd actually just been kissing you back. 

“Y/N, you don't…we can't do that.” 

“Do what?” You said, creeping forward, needing to feel him beside you again. 

“You're not… you don't feel about me the way you think you feel about me,” he said, pushing your hair behind your ear as you wrapped your arms around his waist again. 

“How do I feel?” 

“Grateful. Y/N, this is gratitude. I saved you, and so you think you are in love with me. It's called transference, and you will deeply, deeply regret this one day.” 

The urgency in his tone had you flinching, even if he was trying to talk to you as softly as possible. For a moment, you'd done as he'd asked and forgotten you were a victim. It was apparently something he himself would not forget anytime soon.

You stood around awkwardly for another minute or two. 

“What…what now?” You asked, avoiding the kiss and whatever lay in that direction.

“I'll walk you through the emergency contact numbers. The apartment building is pretty old, so there's a wall phone in the kitchen, but there are some modern amenities, too. The laundry room is on the first floor, next to the porters office. I'm in apartment 23 on the second floor, and-” 

“What?” Your entire body buzzed, hearing him speak, and you almost forgot to breathe, rushing to stand straight again.

“I… I live on the floor below,” he said, almost cautiously now that you'd thrown yourself at him. “I thought you might enjoy the company.”

He gave you a weak smile and you wanted to kiss him all over again, to press your lips again and again into the soft flesh of his skin, his lips, his nose, his cheeks, his neck, his chest. 

You wanted him to hold you. You stood by the sofa and let your grip on a cushion tighten to stop from throwing yourself at him again. One rejection was enough for the day. 

Not that you stopped in the weeks to come. 

Spencer had himself relegated to office work for the first month as you rode out the waves of your grief, sticking by his side for comfort.

Your friends came and went, but they wore the stench of ‘I told you so’ and ‘I saw that coming,’ and you suffocated on it after so long. 

Every day after he returned home, you arrived at him door and threw yourself into his open arms, sitting with him for hours. Most days, you read together, ignoring that the man flipped pages three times as fast as you did. Some nights, you watched shows or movies, making your way through three companions worth of “New Who” in a week.

Each time you came, he took care of your food, ordering or cooking simple pasta dishes for you. 

He told you about the time his coworker had taught him how to make the perfect pasta, berating him for putting oil in his pasta water, and damn near drawing his weapon while he made sure he salted it. 

You laughed together and ate together, and you forgot together. 

Your life was back to normal when you got your first job interview. It's nothing spectacular, but it was enough that it would pay the bills to the apartment whose lease is a ticking bomb counting down to 0. It was a normal office, where you would be doing normal work that you had absolutely done before. 

The interview was normal, the female employee that meets you first reassuring you that the company is safe, their employees vetted and supported. 

And the company makes feminine hygiene products anyway, so they don't attract too many men, or at least none like the monster you'd known. 

All in all, the interview went well. 

It went well all the way until you reached the bus stop. You felt eyes on you, watching your movements, but you couldn't see anyone else focusing on you particularly.

You felt the stares on the bus, and the stares when you got off the bus two stops early. You felt the stares walking around the block three times to throw whatever was following you around off your track. You felt the stares as you sat outside Spencer's apartment until 6:45pm, when he came home and found you there. Your interview had been at 1pm.

“Y/N, what's wrong?” He said, immediately holding you and guiding you into the apartment. 

Your anxiety and fear had settled into self-loathing and disappointment. You let him hold you quietly, rejecting food and conversation. 

You sat quietly with him on his sofa as he held a book in one hand, stroking your hair with another as you laid on his chest. 

The emotions of the day were overwhelming, consuming the part of your brain that had started being happy again for the first time. You grew angry at the sadness for seeping back in, and in an act of rebellion, you pushed back up and kissed Spencer once more. 

His brain was slower to react this time, even if his body wasn't. 

You straddled his hips as your lips joined his, melting together in a hot embrace. He dropped his book quickly, hand resting on your hip as the one that had been stroking your hair angled your jaw up so he could set the pace. 

All your emotions were swept away in a wave of desire as you slowly rubbed against him, butt shifting as you clumsily followed your arousal past your worldly knowledge. 

You couldn't even think about what was next because your tongue was clashing with Spencer's, and your brain was short circuiting. 

The second you let out your first whimper of pleasure, he pushed you away and stood up, crossing the room to put distance between you, just as he had a month beforr. 

“Y/N, you had a bad day, but this isn't… This isn't how you should make yourself feel better.” 

“Spencer-” 

“I told you about transference before, Y/N, you need to listen to me. I'm not… I'm not the one for you.” His voice shook as he ran his hands through his hair in stress, body tense in a way that informed you he was holding himself back. 

“Transference. Transference…” You sat upright on his couch and let all the logic rush back into your brain at once. 

“Y/N?” He asked, voice shaking as he watched you zone out of the conversation, almost afraid that he'd damaged you again. 

“Is there… Is there something wrong with transference?” You asked, voice impossibly calm as you still stared straight forward. 

He moved towards you again and knelt at the floor in front of you, clutching your hands in his. 

“Y/N, you don't really want me like that, you don't, you can't-”

“Love you?” You asked, your voice finally breaking, eyes finally meeting his.

It was as if you knocked the wind out of him. He sat there completely dumbstruck. 

“It might not be love, okay, I'll admit that. But you're… you're strong and smart, and you take care of me. And you're attractive, and you make me happy, which is something I didn't think I'd ever be again-” 

“Y/N, something happened to you today, and you threw yourself at me. You threw yourself at me when you moved into your apartment. You felt stressed, and you reacted, Y/N. You don't love me.”

You sat calmly listening to his words again, your body still aching for his touch, your heart still pounding in your chest. 

“Okay. Okay. So if I do…this when I'm not feeling vulnerable, then what? Then you'll believe me?” 

“Y/N…” he sighed in defeat, hand again raking through his hair. 

You grabbed your things and stood up off the couch, bending to press another kiss to his lips before you parted. 

He was shocked silent, but that didn't stop him from chasing your lips as you rose, rising to his knees and then his feet as you walked away from him.

“I'll see you tomorrow, Spencer. Get some sleep,” you said, letting yourself out or the apartment and carrying yourself, heavy and dejected, upstairs. 

If Spencer was anticipating seeing you again the next morning, he wasn't anticipating seeing you in his office.

“Spencer,” you called out as you walked into the bullpen, clipping your visitors badge into place again, making sure it wasn't crooked.

Immediately, he stood from his desk and rose to meet you, ignoring the looks from his coworkers as his hands landed on your arms, immediately checking on you. 

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” He whispered, checking for tears, or injuries, or something to show him your motive for seeking him out. 

You just smiled at him, brushing a hair behind your ear when you saw him hesitate making that same gesture. 

“I was summoned. They need my statement to corroborate your weapon discharge paperwork, and Agent Hotchner called earlier.” 

His hands dropped as he breathed a steady sigh of relief, trying to make his reaction smaller than he knew it was. He was afraid something had happened to you again, and he was so caught up in his relief, that he didn't notice you moving closer until your lips were on his cheek and you were waving him off as you ascended the stairs to Hotch's office with your escort. 

“Spencer,” Morgan's voice called from behind him, and he turned hesitantly. 

“What was that?” 

He felt the eyes on him, and he pushed all thoughts of you to the side in place of total rationality. 

“I explained transference to her but… she doesn't seem to - she doesn't care.” 

“Spencer the last time I saw that girl, she was practically the walking dead. She just smiled.” Morgan said, shaking his head. But Spencer was watching you, and not his friend, and really, he wasn't even listening.

“Spencer? Spencer?” Morgan said again, rising to get in the man's face some more until he finally looked at him again. 

“She thinks she's in love with me.” 

“How do you know she isn't?” 

You kept working on him, little by little, day by day, until Spencer's field work started again. 

A little part of you was sad that he wouldn't always be around every day anymore. But you'd got that job and got over yourself as you started going out more. You made friends at your office, and you went out and laughed and joked with old college roommates. You felt like a human being again, and to no one's surprise, you still wanted Spencer Reid. 

He left every Monday on a case, and by the time Wednesday rolled around, you missed him. Going out to drinks with some coworkers after clocking off certainly didn't sate your appetite for him. 

“Spencer,” you said, breathily into the phone when he picked up, throwing yourself onto your bed. 

“Y/N, what happened? Is everything alright? Do you need me to come back?”

“No, Spencer, I just-” you hiccupped and giggled before continuing. “I just missed you so much.” 

The silence on the line was suddenly so funny to you, and you giggled again. Feeling hot, you stripped down to your underwear and started talking again. 

“I miss cuddling up to you and crawling all over you. You're really soft, you know?” You sighed, hands trailing up and down your stomach lightly. 

“Y/N,” he said in a warning tone. 

“I miss your face. I'm switching to video call,” you announced and fumbled with your phone. 

“No, Y/N, wait-” he said, but pulling the phone away from his ears, he realized his protests were too late to matter as he took in your half-naked form. 

Though your face took up the majority of the view on the camera, he could see the soft trim of your lace bra poking into the camera, and the generous push of cleavage your angle facilitated to boot. 

Checking around him for people looking, he tucked himself into a corner and scowled back at you. 

“Y/N, this isn't a game. Turn the call off and go to bed.” 

“But I miss you,” you whined. 

“Y/N,” he hissed, eyes falling to your hands where you'd begun massaging your heavy breasts. 

“When are you coming home?” You asked, whining again like a petulant child as the alcohol flushed through your system, bringing all of your desires to the forefront. 

“Soon,” he said, not trusting himself to say more than a word. 

“Good. Because I miss you. Spencer, I- I think I want to have sex with you.” 

His eyes shut as he tried to remain calm even as your words rang in his ears from 1000 miles away.

“We'll talk soon, Y/N. Good night,” he closed, finally hanging up and covering his face in his hands. He made his way quickly to his motel room, threw his phone down on his bed, and ignored as best he could his throbbing cock in his pants and the three pictures you'd sent him since he hung up. 

He didn't resist for long. 

Three nights later, you found yourself at a bar, living life to the fullest. You'd taken back to society like a swan to water, and you weren't letting the stern words of Spencer Reid keep you down. Knocking back another shot, you smiled and cheered with your friends until you felt the eyes on you again. It was different this time, though, hotter, and closer. You turned to look at the door and saw Spencer Reid and the other people who'd saved your life walking to a booth. It was Spencer's eyes on you. 

You definitely did not believe in a higher power - how could you, after all - but you did believe that this was fate. 

You blew him a kiss as he watched you walk back to your table with another cocktail in hand, letting a man who'd been trying to flirt with you earlier follow you to your friends. 

When you went for your next drink, you found him at your side in a heartbeat. 

“I'm not checking up on you,” he said, even though he was. “I'm ordering a drink.” 

“Two drinks,” you said, shooting him a flirty smile as you pressed yourself against him again, chest to chest. 

“You're ordering two drinks, Spencer,” you whispered into his ears as his head dropped down to within an inch of your own. The air felt changed, but you refused to move to close the gap. You'd put in the work the last few times. You needed Spencer to be the one to take the chance this time. 

He ordered your drinks, and still you didn't move apart, huddled together as if you were whispering conspiracies to one another. 

When your drink was firmly in your hand, he grabbed your wrist and led you to a dark corner of the bar. You sipped your drink quickly, managing two swigs before he took it and placed both drinks down - right beside Penelope Garcia - and dragged you out into the hall. 

The bathrooms were empty when he pushed you inside, and your heart throbbed as his hands pushed you into a stall, lifted your legs to wrap around him, and then his lips finally crashed into yours. 

Transference or whatever else it was supposed to be, you didn't give one shit in that moment as his tongue coaxed your lips apart.

His hands didn't stay in place for long as he dragged them up and down your body, exploring every part he'd memorized from the pictures. Every curve or inch he'd previously held tenderly, gently, he now raked over with the hunger of arousal, pushing your short skirt up until it was past your hips and his fingers could sink into you instead. 

You were soaked before he even had one digit inside you, his thumb rubbing roughly against your clit as you turned to jelly in his hands. 

You'd masturbated before, sure, you were a grown woman. But the feeling of someone else's hands, someone else's hest, the knowledge that someone else desired you so badly that they'd drag you into a bar bathroom just to sate their lust? That was new, and it was exciting. 

His lips covered yours as your legs shook, silencing every moan, every whimper with his tongue. It was wild, messy, your tongues clashing wildly and messily as your hips rocked violently, trying to reach that high, but also trying to make this last past his fingers. 

It wasn't to be though as you shuddered around his three digits, your orgasm ripping through you silently, leaving you wide-eyed and wide mouthed. 

“We're done,” he said, gently kissing your cheek as be stood you up, letting you stretch out the soreness in your muscles. 

“For now?” 

“Forever, Y/N. This was a mistake.”

Your heart hit the ground, and he stomped on it, but the anger filling your gut pushed up and out before he could completely bow out. 

“No,” you ground out through gritted teeth. 

“Y/N, you aren't in love with me. You feel grateful that I saved you, you feel attracted to me because I'm older and you think I can protect you, and a little part of it is that you've always been attracted to men who are dangerous. You're not in love with me, so-” 

“You sound like him.”

Shocked, he paused, and his grip on your hips tightened until his nails were biting into your skin. 

“What?” 

“You're telling me how to feel, you're telling me what to do. You sound like him.” 

“Y/N, that is unfair-” 

“Unfair is denying that I'd know how I'm fucking feeling to let you wallow in self sacrifice, Spencer. Unfair is playing the martyr when we can both see that you want this as fucking badly as I do.” 

You didn't give him a second longer to react, but grabbed him by the wrist and, making sure your skirt was once again in place, pulled him back out of the bathroom and into the club. 

Stopping by Penelope, you put his drink in his hand and grabbed yours, downing it quickly. He followed your actions, taking a sip until you were done and slamming your drink back on the table. 

Then you kept him moving, pushing doors open, hailing a cab, and climbing in with him hot on your heels.

You kept your grip on him tight until you'd marched him to his apartment. Releasing him, you flattened your back against his door, letting him slowly unlock the door as you spoke to him again finally.

“Do it, Spencer. Be my first.” 

It was like he was a different man walking over that threshold. His hand were on your face, his tongue again fighting yours as you stumbled back into the apartment, crashing into the wall, then the coffee table, and then the couch. 

You cursed in anger hitting his closed bedroom door and pushed him away to open it yourself, but his arms wrapped around you from the back and he sucked bruises against your neck as his hands grabbed your breasts and squeezed them.

His cock was rigid in his pants, and your body ached for the unknown, the soon to come pleasure that he was to deliver. 

He pushed you down onto the bed quickly, and you rolled yourself over, pulling your own dress off as quickly as possible. 

“That's my job,” he moaned, meeting your lips again as his hands fell to your underwear once again. 

“You have a long to-do list, Spencer, I'm just helping,” you smirked as he kissed you again, your hands shakily working down each button of his shirt as you acted to tear it off of him. 

“We have all night,” he replied, fingers once again rubbing at your bundle of nerves, hips pushing up and into his hands. 

“No, Spencer. No, we don't. I need you now.” 

His mouth covered yours again as you finally, finally got his shirt off, letting him throw it to the floor as you started working on his belt. Your legs spread as he inched closer, sitting between your thighs comfortably as he waited with bated breath for you to finally touch his cock.  

You knew what dicks looked like, you knew what they were supposed to feel like, but you never realised you'd want to touch one so fucking badly until his sprung from his pants. 

He took your hand and spit in it before you wrapped your fingers around him and felt the heat of his cock pulsing against you. 

He was big, long more than girthy, and you wondered how thousands of years of women had managed to survive coupling if this was the weapon meant to numb them into horny submission. 

One stroke, and you were a mess, his fingers hooking into you as you flicked your wrist up and down. 

You watched his precum rise and swiped it up in one finger, tasting it as he groaned and started thrusting up, fucking your hand as he scissored his fingers inside of you. 

He stretched you out, readying you for his thick cock, and you gladly sat there, letting him use you and ready you all at once. 

When you were ready, he wrapped his arms around you again, lifting you onto the bed properly and laying you down softly in the sheets. Kneeling to roll on the condom he'd grabbed from his bedside table, you watched in curiosity as you tried to memorize every movement, every second of him sinking into you. 

The tears in your eyes were emotion just as much as pain, your heart hammering in your ears as he whispered praise into your ear, dropping confessions like bombs. 

“You're taking me so well, Y/N, that's good…” he moaned, pushing in one inch. 

“That's it, Y/N, just a little more. I love you, you can do it,” he said, sinking in two more. 

“You feel so good, Y/N, made just for me,” he said as he finally hit your limit. 

You knew the stretch wasn't the end, and he rested there for a second, letting you get used to him before you lost patience with him. 

“Spencer just, just push through,” you grit out, and he did, snapping his hips up just that.inch or two more and sending that spark of pain through you. 

In an instant, his lips were on yours, his fingers on your clit, flooding your nerves with pleasure as all you could think of was the pain. 

But when the pain faded, there was still him, and his cock neatly sheathed inside of you. 

His hips moved languidly at first, his entire body weight pushing down on you, lazily twisting and writhing as of this were just one of your cuddles on the couch. 

You whimpered, and he moved faster, and you learnt quickly that your noises and sighs to him were what his praise was to you - motivation.

You moaned, and he picked up his pace, moving faster as you whimpered a lustful ‘yes’ into his ear. 

“Good girl, good girl, Y/N, that's it. Good girl,” he repeated, unable to say more as you whimpered and cried under him, speech lost as he split you in half with his dick.

You grew louder, and his cock buried itself deeper, your moans dragged on longer and he picked up speed. 

He whispered that you were his perfect little slut, and you jolted in his arms, cumming on his cock and screaming his name. 

He kept pumping into you, careful to make sure the condom stayed in place as he finally bottomed out and let pleasure roll through him again.

Coming down from his high, your tongue pushed into his mouth, and you rolled him over, sitting yp on his dick as he watched. 

You rose off his cock, letting him stare in wonder as your own arousal dripped off of your skin, his cock coated in arousal, and spit from his fingers and, yes, a little bit of blood. 

You crawled back and peeled off the condom, tying It quickly and discarding it before you tasted his cum quickly. 

It was just a soft lick, but it had him declaring his love for you again, and you decided that there were very few things you wouldn't do to hear those words. 

As delightful as your lips felt, though, he quickly bundled you up and forced you to the bathroom, turning on the taps in the bath and placing you on the toilet before leaving. 

Even now, after everything, he was still taking care of you. Maybe especially now. 

You finished, and he came back. More stolen kisses and moans and a bath that turned into more later, and you found yourself bundled into his spare clothes and wrapped in his arms on his couch again. 

He clicked play on another episode of Doctor Who (you'd finally reached Donna, and he was excitedly introducing you to the new character), and you finally looked up at him again.

“I love you,” you said again, loudly this time, with no fear. 

Though his training told him the response he should give, Spencer just looked down at you again and gave in to his heart. 

“I love you, too.” 

You fell asleep quickly after that, head resting over his heart, the sound of the steady beats lulling you to sleep. 

[flowersdiceandlove]

hi @allpiesforourown I just saw your Winx Club fandom Binghe post and it made me think of an au. So, modern au, both Shen Yuan and Binghe are involved in multiple fandoms and are both legendary posters in each of them. The thing is...they hate each other. Their online fights go down in fandom history. The Epic Battles of Peerless Cucumber and the Heavenly Pillar. There are fan accounts and Youtube videos dedicated to explaining their messy fights. There's a whole wiki page about it. Binghe has the most unhinged takes and Shen Yuan drives himself mad trying to reasonably dismantle those takes and why they are stupid and what is wrong with you?!?! But, Binghe comes back with somehow solid sounding arguments? That are somehow so crazy and make you lose all sense of right and wrong and turn everything on their head that you actually are like "wait, this guy might be onto something" until you actually remember the context and go "this guy is batshit insane! lock him up!"

So, they go head to head. A lot. Across many fandoms because they actually have the same taste in media to the point that they feel they can't escape each other. Every time they enter a new fandom, they see the comments and posts in the online communities and are like "you got to be effing kidding me!! That guy is HERE too?!?!?!!" Binghe also posts the same type of scathing reviews that Peerless Cucumber is infamous for, which are good, except for the unhinged takes sprinkled in with the logical. And that's what drives Shen Yuan so crazy. Because this "Heavenly Pillar" is actually a good critic and able to comprehend complex themes that so many others miss or misunderstand. He also completely misconstrues stuff with his unhinged takes.

And Binghe, he's just gonna fight to the death to defend his blorbos and ships.

The thing is, Shen Yuan is Binghe's tutor or something irl and Bingbing's got the biggest crush on him. Obviously. And, they talk about shows and books sometimes, and have good, deep discussions about them, finding they have a lot of the same tastes. Shen Yuan will lend Binghe a book or recommend a show and vice versa. They have fun. They do not share their online handles. Shen Yuan does not want this sweet little white sheep he's been tutoring since middle school knowing about some of the stuff he reads and messing up his image (he has an irl reputation to uphold!), and Binghe doesn't want his crush to know exactly how crazy he is and about all the teacher/tutor x student stuff he posts about, thinking it will dash his chances with his precious, sweet Yuan-gege. He's in college now, he might finally have his chance! So, they keep their online lives separate from their irl ones, not just with each other, but with everyone in their lives. Best not to mix them.

And so, things continue until one day, Peerless Cucumber suddenly becomes the Heavenly Pillar's number one supporter. He's going back and ripping apart everyone who's calling the heavenly pillar a lunatic and to lock him up saying "you don't know what's been through! there could be reasons he's like this! and are those takes really that bad!?!?" (yes. they are) People are reeling at the 180 seeming overnight that came out of nowhere after years of rivalry and hate thrown between them. He's also backing the Heavenly Pillar's takes and headcanons up by saying "yeah, I can see how it could be viewed that way. Totally valid." and then presenting a bunch of canon moments and bts and creator interviews to support it. (It's still all totally insane. But now there's two of them) It makes people actually start to question their sanity because Peerless Cucumber is normally the voice of reason, so if he's agreeing with the Heavenly Pillar, then are they the ones that are actually crazy??

Meanwhile, Shen Yuan is in his apartment, reading webnovels on his phone with his new boyfriend's head resting in his lap, idly petting his fluffy hair. Binghe's never been happier.

And, in case you were wondering, Binghe's Heavenly Pillar account has basically turned into a Peerless Cucumber Fan Account. He gushes in his replies to Peerless Cucumber, praising him, and saying how amazing his analysis' are. He'll also, in his own comments and posts, reference Peerless Cucumber posts constantly.

Yes, people are shipping them (they have for a long time, but now it's becoming a more widespread thing). Yes, they have wiki ship page. Yes, their ship name is PillarCum.

[candy-rat]

☀️ˏˋ°•*⁀➷✧Puppy Love✧

♡ Percy Jackson x Fem!Apollo Reader

♥︎ Summary: you attempt to teach the cute boy you may or may not have some feelings for how to better work a bow and arrow. || Percy blurb!

☆ Warnings: None!

(ofc i know the relations between Apollo, Zeus, And Poseidon but the readers relation w Percy and the reader is the same w him and annabeth so use that info as u must) 

★ A/N:  I’ve only ever read the first and a bit of the second book + the two movies so this is based off the new series(Walker Scobell) + plus I have the BIGGEST crush on Walker Scobell.

♪ Credits: Ty Bunny’s RPH for the divider<3

+Barely Proof read

It was another sunny day at Camp Half-Blood, kids either chasing each other around or actually putting effort to train and what nots.

Surprisingly the archery field was as empty as ever, which is why you find yourself here.

As the daughter of Apollo you tend to neglect your gift of archery rather finding yourself in simple socialization, but today you thought differently.

Your dad would be proud, wouldn’t he?

As you were in the middle of your archery session you swore you heard the sound of bushes rustling.

The sudden noise caused you to turn around, trying to identify where the noise was coming from.

You were met with the sight of a boy.

Not just any boy.

Percy Jackson.

With earlier memory you can recollect, the boy was definitely not the best with a bow and arrow, so why would he be here?

“Uh, hi” the boy spoke up.

“Oh uh, hi?” You responded in a confused yet optimistic tone.

There was an awkward silence for a moment.

You’ve seen the boy on multiple other occasions, you never really talked to him before.

To be honest with yourself, you probably had the slightest crush on the boy.

The tiniest one of course, you barely knew him.

“So, do you need something? Or?” you spoke, breaking the silence.

“Oh! Uh yeah I did, yeah.” He replied with a slight crack in his voice.

Another moment of silence.

“Uhm, what do you need, uh Percy was it?” You questioned.

You didn’t need to ask, of course you knew his name.

It’s not creepy, word just gets around you know?

“Yeah uh that- that’s my name, you’re (Name) right? Daughter of Apollo?” He asked.

“Oh yeah, that’s me.” You replied.

“You’re like really good at archery right?” He asked once more.

“You could say that, being the daughter of Apollo kinda you know comes with it, but my older siblings are definitely better.” You confirmed.

“Well I was uh wondering-“ he responded.

“Mhm?” You simply hummed in reply.

“If you could, i don’t know uh teach me how to get better at archery?” He finally let out.

You looked at your bow and back at Percy.

You wonder exactly why he asked you.

Maybe he just came here in hopes to ask the first person he sees, or maybe he was looking for you specifically.

That’s a nice thought.

“Really?! Okay, I don’t mind!”you replied.

“You don’t?!” He replied.

“Of course not! I don’t have much to do anyway.” You giggled.

Before anything you told him the basics, how to stand, how to correct your breathing, and how to aim better.

The day went on.

Percy missed the target completely most times.

But once he finally got remotely close, you had to say you were proud of the blonde.

You were happy to even spend time with him.

“There you go Percy! That was great, you’re getting better!” You chuckled, swinging you arm over his shoulder squeezing him a bit.

He froze at the sudden contact for a moment.

“Thanks! I really c-couldn’t have done it without you, you know!” He went on blushing.

“Awe don’t sweat it, it comes naturally so I never need to put much in to it, but thanks!” You thanked the boy, feeling your face heat up.

Percy handed you the bow back queuing the end of your lesson.

“You know if you ever want me to teach you again I’d be happy to, just swing by cabin 7 I’m usually there.” You mentioned.

“Yeah sure, but about that-“ he started.

“About what?”

“Well uh, seeing each other again you know? Like not during training” He blushed.

“O-oh! Yeah i wouldn’t mind at all, I enjoy your company!” You responded.

“Really?!” Percy added.

“Yeah really.” You confirmed.

“I uh- like being around you too.” Percy smiled.

The two of you got along perfectly.

Like a puzzle piece.

You definitely had a crush on him.

He might like you back.

Percy definitely is too scared to confess anytime soon.

And maybe that’s good.

Love takes time.

Especially puppy love.

A/n: innocent puppy love is deff the vibe I’ll always go for with my Percy fics so hopefully I’ll have time to do more      (Miles 42 fic in the making!!!!)<3

[lizthewriter]

billy loomis, stu macher, and poly! headcanons with reader s/o

billy loomis headcanons with reader s/o

• first of all, billy is actually a pretty intelligent guy - cunning, strategic

• it's why he's always so good at chess (not that he's the biggest fan)

• reads lots of books - obviously horrors and thrillers are his favorite

• a bit obnoxious pissy about horror movies

• he will force you to watch horror movies with him - movie night ftw

• he's also a big trivia fan! loves trivia games, especially horror

• he says he doesn't like music, but secretly he listens to pop and motown - you will catch him singing along to marvin gaye and he will never admit that it happened

• has mediocre grades, despite his intellect - school bores him and he doesn't like to listen to what people tell him to do

• speaking of school, people paint him out to be some kind of "bad boy" but really all he is is quiet and reserved

• the only real reason he became friends with tatum, sid, and randy was because they became friends with his childhood best friend, stu

• he and stu are inseparable and they do everything together

• you'll probably end up spending more time at stu's then at billy's because billy doesn't like people coming over to his house

• mostly because of the fact that it's on the poorer side of town, and that everyone thinks that he has the picture-perfect family

• speaking of this so-called "family," he has major abandonment issues because his mother abandoned him and trust issues because his father had an affair and would barely pay him any attention

• both of these also contribute to his protectiveness/possessiveness

• it's not so much that he doesn't trust you around certain people (he does have intrusive thoughts a lot), he doesn't trust other people around you

• but when he does get insecure and starts to think that you'll leave him, it's more from his fear that he's unlovable and a bad s/o

• that's why he would love an s/o that would take care of him and do all those lovey-dovey things, even if he likes to pretend that he's not that fond of it

• holding hands, going on walks together, date/movie nights, staying in together, sleeping in the same bed, he wants ALL OF IT

• once he gets more comfortable around you and trusts you, he'll open up a lot more - you'll find he's really sweet on the inside, and REALLY funny

• no i swear, he has the best sense of humor - dark and dry, the perfect mix

• he's not really into PDA unless someone's trying to get in your pants, in which case all social conventions are dropped and he WILL shove his tounge down your throat

• this man is a great kisser *chef's kiss*

• his sex drive is at a medium, I'd say

• but damn if this mf isn't kinky as shit

• lovesss degrading you, being dominant, definitely has a size kink, knife kink, predator/prey, edging, he eats that shit up

• he barely ever gets subby - like ever, but once in a blue moon he just wants some slow, soft sex (this usually happens when he's feeling insecure)

• he's a boob guy 1000%

• he's not too into foreplay - don't get me wrong, he likes to make out for a little while and he knows you need time to get ready, but as soon as your wet he's already inside you pounding away

• loves missionary 🤭🤭 he likes to watch your reactions and dies every time he elicits a sound from your mouth

• dirty talks the entire time

• he's a multiple rounds kind of guy too - he may not want sex that often, but when he does, he WANTS IT

• not the best at aftercare, but he does pretty well - he'll clean you up, bring you a glass of water, but he really just likes to cuddle and fall asleep right after all that

• watches you while you sleep - he finds that it calms him, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest

• the biggest morning person ever - the definition of a morning person

• by the time you get up, he's already ready for school and prepared you breakfast

• has a nice car - loves to drive you around

• oh and he LOVESSSSS making you flustered, but in more of a conspicuous, secretive way

• will send you those FUCKING EYES in the middle of biology

• oh and if you sit next to each other in class, he'll place a hand on your thigh and rub circles into it

• he just loves to rile you up and watch you get angry at him (it turns him on a lil' bit)

• requires a kiss hi and a kiss goodbye - it doesn't matter where, as long as it's a kiss

stu macher headcanons with reader s/o

• this man is the legal textbook definition of ADHD, if not autism

• he has trouble paying attention, especially in school - somehow gets amazing grades anyways

• class clown - main goal in life is to make everyone laugh

• he likes books but finds it hard to pay attention to the words on the page - he much prefers audio books! the main way he consumes media

• he loves all kind of music, but especially alternative rock and hard rock (alice in chains' biggest fan for sure; loves to sing "them bones" out of nowhere - "man in a box" is his favorite)

• he also loves horror movies but he doesn't get as technical about it as billy - he'll watch all kinds, but he does have favorites

• also a big trivia fan - loves playing trivial pursuit

• remembers random facts (he watched jeopardy chronically as a child)

• he was babied by his parents a lot as a kid, which is why he's so extroverted and wild (*coughcough* rebellious *coughcough*)

• he's bisexual

• he lovesss doing makeup and also he wears crop tops all the time and he looks MAGNIFICENT in them

• he's very creative - loves to come up with stories and draw, but he's not really an artist per say, more like he likes scribbling random things

• his stomach is a black hole - no literally, this man devours the entire kitchen

• DO NOT LET HIM IN THE KITCHEN IF YOU ARE BAKING - he will eat whatever dough you're preparing behind your back

• loves to tease you and make you flustered, but in a very obvious way

• is VERY into PDA and flirting in public; constantly has an arm either slung around your shoulders or waist and will make out with you in front of his locker if you let him

• man has no boundaries

• also he will shower you with affection and treat you like a queen; worships the ground you walk upon

• he. loves. matching. clothes. will cry if you don't wear matching pj's with him

• you will chronically be at his house - he has beautiful puppy eyes, so it's easy to convince you to come over every day

• he loves having you sit in his lap or lay across his chest

• he also lovessss playing with your hair and is actually really good at braiding and all that (he has two older sisters)

• foreplay is his favorite thing in the whole world

• ass, boob, thighs? how about ALL

• absolutely a switch!

• prefers to eat you out and loves to overstimulate you mmmmm

• he has a very high sex drive - oh yeah, he's at it every night

• also prefers missionary, but likes you on your stomach, ass up, fave shoved into the pillows (his only purpose: to fuck you into subspace)

• he's pretty kinky too, but with slight differences from billy - instead of edging he loves overstimulation, rimming, marking, praising

• will make up any excuses to get in your pants and will also ask at the most random times - also, if you have a period doesn't care about it whatsoever, will still have sex with you

• aftercare KING!! he has everything prepared for when your done - he'll clean you up, he'll put the sheets out to be washed, he'll grab water and snacks, cuddle with you, and lay up for hours just talking

• he loves one on one conversations between the two of you, especially at more romantic spots like on the roof and under the stars

• will romance you - coincidentally (not at all) loves valentine's day

• you must give him your upmost attention - he loves ranting to you since you're the only person who listens to him and laughs at his jokes

• you will catch him staring at you with lovesick puppy eyes and he doesn't even care if you notice him, he just has an infinite love for you

poly!billy loomis and stu macher headcanons with reader s/o

• together they are certainly a duo - their personalities really balance them out perfectly

• stu is loud and hyperactive, billy is quiet and reserved

• but stu does bring billy out of his shell and billy reigns stu in when he goes too far - all in all, they make each other better

• you all bang out at stu's house - most of the time, just to chill, but bill insists on weekly movie nights and stu insists on weekly board game nights

• if you're not on good terms with your family, stu's welcomes you in like you're their own kid (billy had basically been their son for years)

• billy loves halloween and while stu loves halloween, he's also a big christmas person as well

• stu really just loves holidays and anything that gets them off of school

• whatever shenanigans stu is up to, billy pretends to dislike it but he goes along for a reason, doesn't he? he kind of likes indulging in stu

• they love taking you on car rides around town

• stu buys you all matching shirts and pj's, much to billy's horror

• stu is just constantly buying the two of you random shit

• "i saw this and it reminded me of you guys!"

• usually the way sleeping together works is stu is on the left, you're laying across half of his ches, and billy is on your right with his arm slung around your waist

• stu is constantly warm (why he has his shirt off half the time) and billy had cold hands (will place them unprovoked on the back of your neck)

• if you bake, they work together to steal your dough and eat it

• oh my god, if you go somewhere to get clothes, they will be trailing right behind you and wait for you outside the dressing room to out their two cents in

• billy was kind of dragged along - he truly thinks you look good in anything no matter what, but stu actually offers you good fashion advice

• "hmm . . . no, that red really isn't your color - they have that dress in a blue you look good in, why don't I go grab it for you?"

• billy and stu make sure your birthday is really special

• their goal is just to make you feel loved, accepted, and respected in general

• together, they are both VERY possessive over you, however - so PDA is a must

• they will make it plainly clear to everyone that you are THEIRS and not to be touched

• constant sex - no seriously, be prepared

• I've already made it clear what they both like individually

• but, yes, they both love to tease you - foreplay is a must, and they'll draw it on for a while to get you desperate

• most of the time, they're both dominant in the bedroom, but I can see you and billy turning the table on a subby stu (or in the case of billy being a sub, soft sex with all three of you)

• they are both brat-tamers, but stu's the nicer one

• however, billy is a bit of a brat sometimes (will never admit it but he would die to be punished by you and stu)

• they're both into bondage . . . I think that was a given

• hours and hours and HOURS

• also everywhere. in the kitchen, on the couch, in the bedroom, hell, in the bathroom, they will take you EVERYWHERE

• like I said, they're both pretty good at aftercare

• they love to spend time with you and cuddle - billy likes to trace your skin with his finger, especially your back, while stu likes to play with your hair

• you will fall asleep together like this

• stu would probably be the first person to say "I love you"

• it might take a while, but billy will too eventually

• they just want all of you to be happy and that's all that matters :)

[lily-onher-grave]

okay okay okay thoughts/excited ramblings about the wicked movie under the cut bc i've seen it and now i'm insane about it again

let's be real it's kinda hard to fumble the opening number of a musical especially when that opening number is no one mourns the wicked and yet i was still absolutely blown away it was SO GOOD

the lil munchkins running, the singing in the streets, the posters of the witch (side note all the artwork was insanely good and just added so much to the style of oz i feel like) it was all so awesome

NOMTW becomes so sinister and they nailed it

obligatory emotional babbling about glinda standing alone in the crowd as everyone sings 'the wicked's lives are lonely'

before i left for the theater i was like 'take your bets on if i'll cry' and my roommate and i agreed that yeah obviously i would. but what i didn't expect is for ariana's sad face to knock me out in five minutes flat. i was done for

the effigy. holy shit. and handing the torch to glinda. i want to go see the whole thing again just so i can rewatch that scene. my heart still hurts

(also nanny! sort of not really. but i liked the childhood scenes i liked that elphaba had one (1) good thing in her life before shiz)

SHIZ okay shiz honestly shiz was the thing i was most excited for bc c'mon, we don't write about our gothic magic school all the time in fic for nothing. and honestly it was so good. the shots of the whole castle! the library design! the balcony moments and the stairways and just like the layers of architecture and the way morrible could kind of be anywhere at any time. the way it felt so grand and yet so small at the same time. idk man the vibes were good and the set was beautiful

glinda arriving by boat was magical that's all

the way everything dillamond had was tailored to him was fantastic it was so good

actually i want to shout out the library set design again and how it tied into the clockwork theme that never gets fully called out even in the musical but it's still so good

where's my time dragon clock tho

also back up the scene where elphaba loses her temper in the courtyard--when she breaks the relief of the wizard, there's old artwork of Animals behind it and i gasped out loud when i saw it

and that was the first moment i thought 'this is brilliant but i still want an hbo dark fantasy political drama tv show based on the book'

speaking of the dark fantasy political drama tv shows, the Animal meeting!! i'm so glad they put more stuff like that in there

actually as a whole the movie felt more grounded and less comedic than the musical. i think they did a fantastic job of keeping the magic and silliness and charm and wonder of the show while still adding those extra bits of drama and dire circumstances

anyway gelphie fic prank wars trope is officially canon great work everybody handshakes all around. i was cackling (silently. i promise i'm a respectful moviegoer)

the ozdust ballroom being illegal makes so much sense. it being underwater was fucking cool. boq and nessa were actually really great and i usually don't care about them at all during this scene

also i love love love nessa and i cannot wait to see more of her. but showing her multiple times on the sidelines when elphie was being humiliated was such a good choice. the tension between nessa obviously caring for her sister yet always caring for herself more is so delicious and i always want to see it fleshed out more, and i think they did such a good job with her? her and elphaba have sweet moments which i love, and her wanting to be independent and only elphaba really understanding that is so so good. and having her just watching elphaba for so long before finally saying she can't watch. god i can't wait to see her be desperate and selfish and cold in act 2, it's gonna be so good

side note boq also looking upset by elphie being bullied. i miss my brotp man

but let's talk about what's most important: the gelphie dance. because oh my god i started crying all over again. so did elphaba. and glinda wiping her tears i'm dying i've died oh my god

i always get a little bit surprised when glinda seems more head over heels than elphaba. idk why. but ariana's glinda is absolutely more head over heels than cynthia's elphaba and i loved it

(they just. freaking LEFT the party. just zipped out of there as soon as they hugged. glinda was like hmmm i just realized some things and grabbed elphaba's hand and ran off while the night was young. and fiyero stared after them knowing that he stood no chance whatsoever)

also i'm like 72% sure the guys sitting next to me were a couple? and they both cried during the gelphie dance too and it was a very unexpected but very funny moment of solidarity

i say ariana's glinda is more head over heels and i stand by it but elphaba's fond little smile when glinda was pouting about sharing secrets almost made me start sobbing again they're so GOOD they're so CUTE and she is SO heart eyes for glinda immediately!!!

i need to be sedated i swear

popular was adorable 10/10 no notes absolutely nailed it i loved every second

also glinda sitting next to elphaba in class now. my heart <3

after dillamond gets hauled away (again with this being more violent and dark and those moments of drama coming through more in the movie i loveeee) glinda doesn't sit down until elphaba does

also they had several little moments of elphaba looking to glinda and glinda either shaking her head or nodding. they've been friends for 2 days and they're already having silent conversations i love them <3

the poppy spell? was sick as hell????

another seeing of wicked, another complete sense of bafflement as to why fiyero is there

i say this jokingly but the fiyero and elphaba romance really does feel like a product of the early 2000s especially now that it's on screen rather than on stage. idk maybe that's just the lesbian in me talking though

the train design is also sick but we knew that from the trailers

okay look logically yes i knew idina and kristin would have cameos. but i'd been crying on and off and one short day's magic had already taken hold so they caught me completely off guard. it was great

the wizard stuff was really sweet. and while i was hoping for more time put toward shiz and stuff, i do think those moments did a great job of 1) showing how much elphaba just wants to be loved 2) foreshadowing the wizard being her father and 3) laying the groundwork for her briefly considering working with the wizard in act 2, which is a decision that never quiteee feels right in the show

i love that they put more lore into the grimmerie btw. very cool

the hot air balloon was random but fun. i wonder if it'll come up again in act 2

every time. every damn time glinda starts singing in defying gravity i just want someone to end it right there. glinda grabs the broom, it fades to black, and they both lived happily ever after

fuck

defying gravity taking place at sunset because it's at the end of their one short day of happiness

also UM morrible coming up and hugging glinda when she's crying. exquisite emotional manipulation i'm screaming

elphie! seeing! her! inner! child! i loved the baby elphie scenes even though i prefer creepy 'horrors' elphaba always. but seeing her come back was sooooo fucking good

elphaba only ever relying on herself, in the end

glinda's final 'i hope you're happy' took me out, as it always does, as it always should. and reaching out from the balcony? i'm sobbing again

morrible dragging glinda into the darkness while elphaba flies into the sun! someone fucking help me i'm already wrecked by these two

honestly my biggest complaint is that now i have to wait for part two, i want to see the rest nowwwww

[littlestarlightseverywhere]

This Love

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel would set the world on fire if it that’s what it took for his mate believe she deserves his love

Warnings: None

Notes: Hiii! This is my first ACOTAR fic on tumblr! Az is my man my man my mannnn and I just love thinking about him. Here’s a little something that came to mind when I was listening to “This Love” by Taylor Swift

Image Credit: “This Love” Taylor’s Version lyric video

Azriel sat hunched over in the plush velvet chair in Rhysand’s office. His elbows dug into his strong thighs as he clasped his hands together, focusing on the slow, mindless movement of his thumb over the ball of his knuckle.

“I think the Cauldron got it wrong.”

“Bullshit,” Cassian asserted eloquently.

“The Cauldron doesn’t simply ‘get things wrong’,” Rhysand said softly from where he leaned against the front of his desk, arms crossed contemplatively over his chest. Cassian, lounging in the chair across from Azriel, threw his hands in the air.

“It takes longer for some people than others, you know.”

“I knew far before Feyre did,” Rhysand supplemented.

“Anyone with eyes can tell how she feels about you. It’s beyond me you don’t see the way she looks at you, brother.”

Azriel was at a loss. Pining after the same woman for decades proved brutal on the heart. Downright treacherous, really, considering he felt the mating bond snap a long time ago and she had given almost no indication she felt anything of the like.

He knew she liked him in the way a person “likes” their best friend who knows them inside out, has been with them through every insignificant or life-altering moment, and embraces every part of them– even the messy bits. No, Azriel had no doubt in his mind that she loved him. She’d said as much multiple times, which left him feeling even more confused.

He didn’t want to push her for fear of ruining what they already had. Things were good, he’d even go so far as to say things were perfect between the two of them. He knew he wasn’t a knight in shining armor, the picture of good, and there were many things he’d done wrong to get to where he is today. Still, she was the one thing he did right. The best part about his life. Whether she knew it or not, it was his truth and he swore if it came down to it, he’d stand to do right by her before Prythian.

“She just has everything together. I don’t want to take up space in a life where she has everything figured out. We are in good places in each other's lives. I would hate to pressure her to change any of it for me.”

“You say that as if you'd be ruining her life,” Cassian’s anger simmered to a sadness. “She’d never think that.”

“And what about you?” Rhysand interjected. “You’re breaking your own heart waiting for her to feel the bond snap. Maybe you need to help her on.”

“I would never put her on the spot like that.”

“I wasn’t suggesting–”

“What if she’d rejected the bond somehow?” Azriel stood up, legs suddenly overcome with the sensation of a thousand little fire ants devouring his skin.

“Now you’re just making shit up.” Cassian huffed, returning to anger.

“How else can any of this be possible? How can she be so oblivious?”

“There is one way,” Rhys offered, suddenly solemn.

Azriel and Cassian looked to their brother expectantly. Azriel felt his heart hammer against his chest in anticipation. A reason was good. A reason was a start. A reason meant that there was a way out of this purgatory he found himself in.

“I read it in one of Amren’s books a long time ago,” Rhys locked eyes with Azriel. “When the mating bond has snapped into place for one of the fae in the pair and the other has absolutely no indication of it, usually it is a sign that they are not looking for a mating bond at all.”

“A lot of people don’t go looking for it,” Cassian reasoned. “I myself was more of the let-it-happen-when-it-will type.”

“Not looking for it in the sense that they don’t believe they deserve it. In the way that perhaps it's simply not meant for them.”

Silence fell over the three males. Azriel felt his heart shatter, pieces of it falling deep into his gut, turning it over and making him uneasy.

“If anyone doesn’t deserve this it’s me.” Azriel whispered.

“Don’t,” Cassian warned.

Rhys continued softly. “When they believe that, they inadvertently shield themselves from feeling anything… including a bond even if it does exist. A defense mechanism of sorts.”

The body protecting itself from heartbreak so painful that it registered it as a physical ailment. Azriel was going to be sick.

He couldn’t believe the love of his life felt that way. He wondered for how long she’d lived with such a belief, how long she’d been giving him her love while accepting none of his. He wanted to tear down the mountains around Velaris, move them, raise them, turn them to dust, anything he could manage to get her to believe him when he told her he loved her.

He barely felt he deserved her at all. It made him queasy with devotion and grief that she loved him enough to ever think she was the undeserving one.

Azriel was so far past worrying that she did not feel the mating bond anymore. All he cared about was making sure she knew she was loved by him in a way that brought him to his knees.

Her second favorite part of the year after Winter Solstice: Starfall.

Elaine spent most of the day in the kitchen with Nuala and Cerridwen. Mor, Feyre, Nesta sat on her bed, lounging on the expansive mattress before it was time to get ready for the party.

While everyone else had their dresses picked out, she was still between options.

“Okay, option one.” She stepped out from behind the dressing screen, twirling dramatically in a golden trumpet dress that shimmered like woven sunlight.

Mor howled and Nesta smirked in satisfaction.

She turned to look into the mirror and study her body. She felt her heart palpitate as her mind immediately dared to wonder what Azriel would think. Would he like it? She shook my head quickly to clear the thoughts. It didn’t matter what he thought anyway.

Feyre sat back, tilting her head with a look in her eyes she couldn’t quite place. “It’s not bad. I caught a glimpse of the other gown earlier…” The ends of her mouth curled upwards.

The second dress was her personal favorite too. A silk, dark navy sheath that hung from her curves elegantly. It shimmered of silver and lavender under the light like the stars had been gathered from the sky and threaded into the material, one by one.

“Yes.” All three chanted at the same time as soon as she walked out again, clad in the dress that looked like it had been made only for her. There was no room for theatrics as her best friends gazed approvingly.

She did not need to look in the mirror to know this is the dress she wanted to wear. After all, she loved the color blue.

The rest of the girls got ready before she did. She went back and forth on hairstyles and makeup multiple times. Nuala and Cerridwen were more than patient, as were her friends who all waited downstairs for her before they’d leave for the House of Wind together.

“This is as good as it will get, I suppose,” She looked in the mirror one final time before descending the stairs that led to the living room below.

As soon as she neared the middle of the stairs, a shadow slipped around her ankle and up her bare arm, sending goosebumps in its wake. It slipped back down her arms gently, like a lover’s admiring touch, and down the stairs again.

Azriel was the first to turn. His senses were always tuned to her without his knowledge or deliberate effort. Her presence was like a beacon in his darkness. A lighthouse to his boat on treacherous waters. He could sense her in a crowded room in a heartbeat just by the way his heart would pound and his skin would warm.

Their eyes locked and he felt a pull in his chest. Almost with a start, he realized it wasn’t even the mating bond, though it also hummed within him. Even despite the mating bond, tender yearning filled his chest at the sight of her standing at the bottom of the stairs now. Pure love. The Cauldron blessed him this one time, perhaps the only time it ever would, giving him the mate it did. Yet he knew, especially in that moment as he drank in the sight of her glowing skin, shy smile, and deep eyes, he would love her even if they were not bound together in this way. He knew he’d choose her over and over and over again. He’d give anything to have her look at him the way she was right now, forever.

Still, Azriel’s heart wrenched as he recalled why she couldn’t feel the mating bond– this thing that crooned and moaned, twisted and sung, wrenched and wrested to be felt by the only other person in the world who it belonged to, not understanding why it hit a wall everytime it tried to reach out to its other half. His other half.

Something like pride came over Azriel as he noticed everyone else stop and stare. Their friends welcomed her with hugs and kisses and compliments and he watched her be loved and by all of their friends. He wanted to say something as their eyes met again. What would he say first? Azriel had a waterfall of words teetering at the tip of his tongue, flowing straight from the pits of his heart, but supposed telling her she was beautiful was a good start.

But before he could say anything, Mor gathered her and Elaine into her arms before winnowing them to the House. Feyre, Nesta, and Amren followed them a second later.

Cassian clapped Azriel on the shoulder, a rare, soft smile on his lips. “Don’t waste another day, brother.”

With Varian uncomfortably nestled in Cassian arms, they were off to the House too.

The celebration was grand as usual. Food and drink flowed from every corner of the room and everyone danced without a second to rest.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She danced with her friends for the longest time; Mor swirled her around the room and Nesta challenged her to keep up.

He stayed within the chattering crowd that boxed in the dance floor, sipping mulled wine and adjusting a fine thread on his jacket every now and again.

She excused herself from Nesta’s ceaseless dancing for some air. Her face was flushed, body warm, but she was happy. Once she reached the doors to the balcony and closed them behind her, she reveled in the immediate silence that followed.

The night air was cool on her flushed skin, the wind a caressing and most welcome touch.

A few minutes later, she heard the balcony door open behind her. Of course she didn’t need to turn around to see who it was. It was the only person that would follow her anywhere, no questions asked.

“Are you quite parched, yet?”

She turned around to find Azriel standing there, tall, broad, and beautiful, with two glasses of mulled wine.

“Quite.” She affirmed with a smile. He walked toward her until they were elbow to elbow, as close as he dared, before handing her the glass. She proposed they toasted to the spirits, who would begin their migration soon, for a safe journey. He obliged.

They sipped their wine in a comfortable silence. Any minute now the show would begin and everyone would move to the main balcony to watch and continue their dancing. This smaller balcony was perfect for just the two of them.

“You look beautiful tonight.” Azriel said as he did not bother to observe the first few stars that crossed the sky in glittery streaks of silver and gold. Next to her, everything else paled in comparison.

Her heart trembled at the compliment. It wasn’t the first compliment he’d given her, far from it, but coming from him they always meant so much.

With the wine in her system, accompanied with whatever was in Cassian’s flask when it was offered to her an hour ago, she said. “I wore this dress for you.”

The choice of color was not lost on him. The next few stars that soared across the sky caused his inky blue siphons to glisten in their glittery light. A perfect match to her silk.

“It suits you.” Azriel hated that his heart was hammering like this. He felt the love in his chest hum like a magnet, the bond snap like a rubber band against his lungs, stealing their air.

She didn’t say anything, only turned to look at him and he did not back away from her eye contact. Only returned it with such intensity that they now spoke with their eyes, a conversation that could never be expressed with mere words, an exchange between soulmates that remained only between them, not even the sky and stars privy to those thoughts.

Before his mind could refuse or reason with him, he closed the gap between the two of them, taking her elbow in his large hands. She allowed him to guide her to his strong body, eager to follow his lead.

His hands dropped to her waist, a respectable distance above her hips, though she would be pleased if he dared to go lower.

“I think about you all the time.” He spoke softly as he drew her as close as she could get. Their bodies were touching, and she was sure he could feel her heart hammering like a bird trying to take flight in a locked cage.

“You don’t,” She whispered as the stars began to rain across the sky in glimmering streams of light. Her mind screamed at her to pull away, to stop before she made a fool of herself. But her body forced her to stay put, to soak in his warmth, the feeling of him against her, to allow herself to indulge in this.

“I do.” His voice was strong, tone resolute. He held her gaze. “I would never lie. Not to you. You are the one thing in my life I would spend the rest of my immortality living for. You’ve captivated me since the moment I met you and if it takes the rest of my life to prove it, I would gladly call it my life’s work. I can’t keep this from you any longer. If that makes me selfish…”

She reached her hand out to cup his jaw. He leaned into it immediately. Her touch was soft against his face and he thought about how nice it would be to stay like this forever.

Starfall was in full effect. Music and laughter from the other balcony was but a distant, muffled, chorus to him and he watched the shine of the raining stars reflect off of her eyes and skin. Like a work of art, he observed. My mate, my mate, my mate, his insides thrummed.

He couldn’t take it any longer. He understood the look in her eyes, the silent permission, the mutual yearning. In an act of mercy, blessing, and loss of control, he slanted his lips over hers, dropping his hands lower on her waist, shifting one to her lower back to support how flush to his body he held her.

She wrapped his arms around his neck, damning the voices in her head telling her none of this was real, that he’d regret it and take it all back in the morning. Deep down she knew even if other men would, Azriel would never. She gave into him, leaned into him, let him in everywhere he demanded it.

She didn’t think about how long she spent in his arms, connected to him like this. Her breath hitched as he felt her squeeze her waist and use the hand that was at the small of her back to travel upward caressingly, taking his time to feel her skin, the dips and planes of her body through the silk, to rest at the back of her neck.

Azriel was so wholly in love he didn’t even have to think about his next move or any kind of thought. Being with her was natural, like second nature.

She pulled away just long enough to breathe, caressing his swollen bottom lip with her thumb as she moved to hold his jaw. He smiled drunkenly at her, watching as she blushed and indulged herself in the feel of his face.

As the stars rained over Velaris in glittering dashes across the perfect canvas of the night sky, she stood with Azriel, holding him as he held her, suddenly keenly aware of what it felt like to be loved by him.

Azriel’s eyes softened in realization, relief, as he felt the hum of the bond break through his chest for the first time in decades. It extended outward freely, like a bird let loose, soaring like the stars in the sky to meet its other half.

She gasped softly as she felt a snap in her chest. A snap that realigned worlds, parted clouds, mended something broken, that marked a shift in time.

She understood.

“Az…” she whispered, almost wanting to not believe it.

He nodded, letting her feel his touch as she worked through the new emotions.

“How long have you known?” She brought her arms down from his neck to hold his hands. His bigger palms enveloped hers easily, warm and strong. Sure.

“Decades.” He shook his head slightly as if it was common sense he’d been in love with her for so long, refusing to break eye contact with her.

“And all this time… you waited? You never– I never thought…”

“I can’t think of anything else I’d want to spend my entire life loving.” He swept a lock of her hair behind her ear to see her better. To remind himself this wasn’t a dream, not this time.

She allowed Azriel to pull her in again, savoring the way his lips tasted, how soft they felt, the way he held her like she’d vanish if he even lifted a finger. It was a grasp that made her want for nothing anymore. Everything she wanted was right here.

“It seems,” she breathed, slightly out of breath after they pulled away again. “I’ve kept you waiting for quite some time.”

“I’d wait any amount of time for you.” He murmured, running his thumb back and forth over the nape of her neck. “I’d do anything.”

[blackgirlsloveburrow]

NSFW 18+

this is kind of a part two to my joe burrow x uc student!reader fic. you can read it here:

joe and you have been secretly hanging out for a good few months now, and no one has caught on. after that crazy night, you did call him, and he was very adamant about seeing you all of the time.

“joe i can’t come to your house i have homework to do. philosophy is kicking my butt right now,” you sighed.

“baby you can just do it here, i’ll pick you up myself,” he begged.

you laughed. “there’s no way you are bringing that expensive ass car around this run down neighborhood. also you know you’re gonna try to distract me from doing homework the whole time i’m there,” you replied.

“okay you win. but i wanna see you tonight for sure,” he said trying to compromise.

“i was gonna pick up a shift at work later. im trying to save up to buy some new headphones”.

“fuck work. i’ll literally buy you anything you want,” he said aggravated.

“ugh joe you know how i feel about th-“

he cut you off. “i’m picking you up now, and don’t worry i’ll bring one of my more inconspicuous cars. i’ll see you in a bit!”.

he hung up. you flopped in your pillow and groaned. your life has totally changed with him in it. you’re both grateful, but slightly peeved about his generosity towards you. i mean you’re not a person who is used to being spoiled by others. he’s always buying you nice things way out of the price range for a college student.

how do you explain to your friends you have multiple telfar tote bags all of a sudden? lululemon sets? etcetera.

you’re also basically always at his house. his cook makes meals for you, his driver takes you to class, things you would have never imagined for yourself.

let’s not get started on the college life of it all. he doesn’t like you going to frats because he hates all college guys (you can’t say you blame him), every time you mention going to a uc football game he’ll buy you guys box seats to go, and your friends are practically begging you to show your “sneaky link”. it’s very exhausting sometimes.

you definitely are in love with him though.

he’s so sweet and protective of you. he makes sures you’re always eating and not stressing about school. he’s even introduced you to his family and teammates after his games which makes you think maybe you could call him your boyf-

there’s a knock on the door.

you go answer it. it’s joe. all in his 6’4 glory.

“hey,” he smiles. bending down to kiss you.

“hi,” you blush.

“are you ready to go?” he asks.

“yeah let me just pack my book bag and some clothes”.

“you have clothes at the house,” he reminds you.

“oh well i get nervous wearing those. they’re just so nice i don’t want to stand out too much,” you laugh awkwardly.

“well you gotta get used to standing out if you’re with me,” he replied.

“well no one really knows about us,” you say walking to your room. he shuts the front door and follows you.

“well. i want more people to know because…,” he trails off.

“because?” you echo him.

“because i want you to officially be my girlfriend”.

you started at him silently.

“i was going to take you to dinner and properly ask but i couldn’t wait,” he said rubbing the back of his head.

in response you stand on the tips of your toes, wrap you arms around his neck, and pull him into a deep and passionate kiss. he reciprocates it, putting his hands on your sides.

when you guys finished, you responded.

“yes. i’ll be your girlfriend,” you say smiling widely.

he picks you up and spins you around, smiling too.

"alright get your stuff together and change so i can go feed you,” he says.

fast forward a little later in the night, you guys are at a really nice restaurant. you just finished your food and had a couple of drinks, and decided to sit on the same side of the booth as joe. he has his hand on your thigh feeling the material of your dress. you’re kissing his jaw and face.

“let’s go to the car baby,” he says. both amused by your affection and a little hard. he gets the check and leads you to the parking garage.

he pushes you up against his car and starts making out with you. his hands gripping your hips as he rubs his bulge against you.

“you have no idea what you do to me,” he breathes.

before you guys can go any farther he opens the car door for you. you get in and he gets in on his side. he speeds home, breaking a few traffic laws on the way.

you guys make it to the bedroom. he takes off your dress and undergarments. you take off his dress shirt and slide off his underwear and pants.

he’s standing and you get down on your knees in front of him.

you start jerking him off while sucking his tip. he throws his head back in pleasure.

“fuck you suck daddy’s dick so well baby,” he moans. he puts his hand on the back of your head and you start to go deeper, feeling him in the back of your throat.

he pulls you off of him after a while, looking at your watery eyes and saliva around your mouth. he makes you stand up. his hands go down to mess with your aching pussy.

“you’re sopping wet and i haven’t even done anything yet,” he says. you whine, embarrassed.

he continues. “daddy’s gonna fuck you so good baby”.

he backs you into the wall and picks you up by your thighs. you can feel his breath on your face as he lines his tip with your pussy. he pulls your body down on him in one swift motion. he instantly bottoms out in you. you moan loudly.

he starts picking up the pace. basically pulling your body down onto his girth. he’s so big.

then, with your legs around him, he carries your body and puts your back onto the bed, barely having a second before he starts thrusting into you again.

he’s hitting your g-spot so aggressively you start getting ready to unfold. the bed is shaking.

“i-i’m gonna cum. i’m gonna cum joey” you moan.

he starts to go faster, chasing his own high. you come undone, and he starts to get close too.

“i’m gonna cum in you baby fuck,” he grabs your throat and kisses your mouth as pumps his load deep inside of you.

as soon as you guys calm down he pulls out of you. you’re tired afterwards. he gets you one of his shirts to throw on and you guys cuddle in bed. he turns on the tv only to be met with a picture on the news of you guys kissing in the parking garage.

people sure are quick.

you guys just look at eachother and sigh. he kisses your forehead. you guys will just have to figure it out tomorrow.

[dalishious]

Starting 24-Aug-2024, I will be providing live reading commentary on Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights on my Twitch channel. (My gaming streams will move to Mondays, same time.) The hope is to help raise funds for my girlfriend’s sister and her family in Gaza. The funds will go towards necessities—all of which is extremely expensive there right now.

Donations = motivation to do more! But even if you have no interest in listening, please consider sharing so others know about this fundraiser, and/or still donating yourself; anything helps.

(More Info on the GFM)

Q: “Will you be covering the whole book?” A: Depends on how much money is raised. If you donate, please let me know (contact methods listed below). I’m hoping to raise at the bare minimum €50 per story, but that can come from multiple sources, and hopefully will build up more than that!

Q: “Can I request a specific story?” A: If you donate at least €50 yourself and send proof to me, I will cover a story of your choosing ahead of the regular order. Otherwise, I will be reading them in the order they appear in the book, starting with Three Trees to Midnight on the 24th.

Q: “How many stories will be you doing per stream?” A: Just one; it will take between 2 and 2.5 hours I expect. Perhaps longer, if we get really into a deep discussion!

Q: “Will you be uploading the streams to YouTube after for later viewing?” A: Yes! I hope to reach as many people as possible, and I know I live in a very awkward time zone. So if you can’t attend the livestream, you can view later on Twitch or on YouTube.

Q: “I want to contact you, how do I do that?” A: The best way to reach me would be to either send a direct message via Tumblr, OR send me an email: tepkunset @ yahoo.com.

My girlfriend has also offered to help with questions specifically about her family, so you should direct those questions to @justanothergaymess.

[nkjemisin]

Hello! I’ve been seeing a lot about your work on social media lately and would love to read your books. What series do you recommend I start with?

Thanks ☺️

That depends on your taste/interest. I don't really write the same kind of thing from series to series, because I get bored easily and often want to try new subgenres/styles/etc. So I'll just briefly list my series and you can pick the one that appeals the most.

There's the Inheritance Trilogy, (link goes to the first book) my first published novels. A secondary world that has enslaved its own gods deals with the repercussions of that, from the POVs of three mortals. There's an overarching plot arc for all three books -- and there are some side-stories for this trilogy, too -- but each has a different narrator and takes place at different times. First person past tense, if you care about that sort of thing. (I don't, but some people seem weirdly attached to/repulsed by particular persons/tenses, so I'm including that info here.)

Then there's the Dreamblood Duology, which were actually written before the Inheritance books but I couldn't get them published at first because publishing in the 2000s was hella racist, basically. (I know, it hasn't changed much... but that little bit of change was enough for me to break in.) These books are as close to traditional fantasy as I'm probably ever going to get, except that they take place in faux ancient Egypt instead of faux medieval Europe. The story follows priests of the dream goddess as they're forced to deal with a conspiracy that threatens to inflict horrors on their society. Third person past tense for both books.

Next up is the Broken Earth trilogy. That's my experimental one, with first, second, and third-person POVs, present tense, a completely non-Earth world, and some heavy themes. All three books form a single story spanning, oh, forty thousand years or so, but mostly they're centered on one incredibly angry middle-aged mother who is on a roaring rampage of revenge/revolution. Features earthbenders, anti-magic groomers, magic statue people, and the apocalypse (again). Lots of "dark" themes and horror moments (harm to children, systemic bigotry, people-eating bugs, more).

My most recent books are the Great Cities duology. Urban fantasy set in modern-day New York, third person multiple POV ensemble cast. Turns out cities come to life once they hit a certain point, and then they claim a human avatar to represent and protect them. New York turns out to have six. It's also got some very unwanted tourists in the form of Lovecraftian entities that are trying to destroy it, along with reality as we know it. I meant for these to be lighthearted and silly and I think they kind of are, but there are still some notable political elements in them. (I mean, it's set in modern-day New York, and I started them the year Trump got elected, so...) It's lighthearted for me, anyway.

So, pick your poison!

[semicolonsspace]

Dark! Bodyguard! Mitch Rapp

Warnings: Bodyguard! Mitch, Bratty reader, Diagnosis(Autism, ADHD, anxiety, and depression) Talk of Spiders, Somoniphilia, bondage, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, nicknames(little one, darling, princess, Angel, dollface)

Disclaimer: I'm autistic and this character represents me :>

Yet again, Y/n was trying to escape. She was currently on her balcony trying to climb over her railing. Mitch heard the shuffling and ran into her room searching for her. It was past her assigned bedtime. Her parents repeatedly told him that she needed to stay in her room and NOT go outside and search for Spiders.

His hands find her hips lifting her effortlessly. He walks through the doors, shuts them, and throws her on her bed, reminding her of the numerous smut books she's read. She screams with a smile on her face. Mitch loved it when she smiled like that. She looked angelic. So happy, the girl made her.

He gave her a stern look before it broke into an amused one. "It's passed your bedtime, Little One." She wanted his voice to be innocent, but it didn't sound like it to her. Maybe to others but it was just them, so, was it really innocent?

"Your spiders are sleeping, you can search tomorrow," he scolds her, his hand on his hip. "During the day," Mitch adds.

Y/n pouts and crosses her arms. She moves and sits on her bottom, her knees bent, her legs resting by her sides. "I don't have a bedtime! And my spiders are Nocturnal! I want to see the night spiders! Not the Day spiders!"

Now she was just acting childish. Spoiled even. But she couldn't just get everything she wanted. Mitch should teach her that... Even if it was very tempting to do so. Even tempting to spank her bottom for being such a brat and escaping the previous night. He was infuriated when he heard her successfully escape through the hallway bathroom window. She used that one because the bathroom in her room had no windows.

Her parents, The Hales were smart for that one. He silently thanked them in his mind when he first had a tour of their house. He also thanked him mentally for receiving all her information in a file on a given work phone. He was surprised at her background, to say the least. She had extreme PTSD when it came to being alone, the last time being when her ex-family member broke in and used her as a punching bag because he resented her. Resent her and ruining the family picture with her diagnosis. But really he did that by doing that.

Aside from that, he didn't really wasn't bothered about the other diagnosis that she had. Autism- She would sometimes become upset with certain clothing and tear them off, so he made a mental note to ask if she was comfortable with the clothing before starting the day. Anxiety- he understood and would help if he saw anything that gave him signs of it. Depression- he would make sure she's happy. Lastly, Insomnia- She had a set schedule she liked to abide to- aside from her bedtime. She despised sleeping during the night because that was when she was most vulnerable. So, he reassured her that during the night he would be in her room to keep watch. So she can sleep.

Y/n stumbles to her walk-in closet. He gets the hint so he turns around to give her privacy. Once she saw it was safe she instantly grabbed a sleep shirt which was an oversized shirt that framed her curvy hips.

Y/n thought to him scolding her. She loved it. He looked so hot, the reason why she was so bratty at times... From the constant scolding of Mitch, she still didn't hate him. She knew he was just doing his job. She thought about it logically. She would do the same if she were him.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts she sat on her bed. She shoved her legs under her sheets and sighed with contentment. She spread her legs repeatedly under the covers to feel the nice satin on her skin. She loved her satin sheets. She grabbed her laptop, placed it in her lap, and began typing away on the book she had been working on for a bit.

Mitch stalked toward her and took a peek at her screen. She situated it so he couldn't see. "Privacy! You would not like to know what I'm writing."

It only intrigued Mitch more but he left it that. He took out his phone and checked the time. "It's 11: 47..." He puts his phone into his pocket once more. "Past your bedtime- wrap it up, darling," He gestured to her laptop. She blushed hard at the new nickname and typed a bit more, probably summarizing what she wanted to happen for her future self to write. She snapped it shut and handed it to him. He gracefully took it and put it on her desk across the room and put it on charge for her.

She watched him do so, smiling to herself as he bent don't to grab the cable cord. "You have a nice bottom," Y/n whispers bluntly. Oh, but he heard her. He quickly turned and stared at her with an open mouth.

It took a second to recover. "Go to sleep, Princess," he said as his brows raised emphasizing she needed to sleep. If only she could crawl out of her covers to grab that laptop to write what she just thought of... Then he was standing in front of her, swiping a strand of hair out of her face. It fell back into her face and she blew it out of her face completely. Ironically, it looked like she was from a cartoon. His hand stays in her hair, falling to her face to cup her chin with his thumb, and then he repeats himself.

She leans into his touch, Contrary to popular belief, autistics hate physical contact but she adored it. She loved simple actions like finger-holding, arm clinging, hugging, and cuddling. Kissing freaked her out a bit but she was sure with the right person she would love it just as much.

Then he walked away like nothing happened. Like he hadn't just cupped her face so tenderly. Like he hadn't stared into her doe eyes so lovingly. Like he hadn't glanced at her lips while holding her pretty face.

Then she flips over on her bed, stripping herself from her shirt under the covers, and throws it. She didn't know where. Nor did she care. Mitch watched her and practically choked on his spit when it landed at his feet. "I guess she didn't like the texture," He thought to himself. He grabbed a book from her shelf and began reading. He became shocked when the first page was a full warning page of triggers. He quickly put it back.

"Yeah, don't grab from that shelf. It's filled with smut. Go for the other, it's more educational," She laughed as her eyes found him with a red face in her corner. He nodded and grabbed another book, a book on night crawlers. She smiled at the book choice.

Mitch stares at her sleeping form. He was in the lovesac like he had been for an hour. She's been asleep for about 20 minutes. She was now whimpering in her sleep, she normally did this. But tonight? It sounded a little needier. Her hips proved that by grinding against her body pillow she was cuddling. Her light grey sheets were lower than they were when she started to sleep. They rested on her bottom, only covering her bottom half. His eyes trailed her back, examining the scars he could make out. From what he could make out was a lightning bolt tattoo that littered her back covering joining the scars.

He stayed on the lovesac, his legs manspreading as his hands rested on his knees. He found her resting form so peaceful looking. Like she wasn't scared of anything. But he knew she wasn't that peaceful because even in her sleep she was prone to attempt to escape. She tried on his first night of being her bodyguard. He took immediate action and comforted her on the floor, holding her while she calmed down from a panic attack. Ever since that night, she was benign to him, going easy on him compared to testing him like she had done on the first day.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when she kicked the covers off of her body. Her body snuggled into the pillow, appreciating the cool air against her legs. After a few seconds, her hips wiggled against the pillow, perfectly grinding against her mound.

To him, that sight was impure. Everything he wanted to see and not see. He pulled himself up, going against his urges to not touch her body. And he doesn't. Yet.

He gulps, and covers her back up, silently wishing to himself that she wouldn't kick it back off. And she does, instantly when the sheets touched her arms. He leaned in to look at her, checking if she was awake or not. His hand touched her forehead, then cupped her face and slowly moved to her shoulder. He takes a deep breath, trying his best to control himself over his sleeping client. She looked so sexy lying there... The image of her body grinding against her pillow popped up in my mind. Replaying it over and over. Was she having a wet dream?

Before he could answer himself he was pulled down by her holding his arms. She gruntles in her sleep and tugs on his arm, he falls into her bed but he catches himself. As he falls her legs wrap around his waist, locking him in place. This is wrong. So wrong. But her body against his felt so good. He could feel her breast against his chest, her breath on his neck, her delicate hands on his waist, holding him.

He sighs giving in and wraps his arms around her curvy form. He covers the both of them up, only with the sheets not wanting her to get too warm. "There," he whispers, mostly for himself. This was not what he expected when he took this job- But, at the moment, he was not going to complain. His warm calloused hands roamed her back, his fingertips trailing the scars along her back. Gosh, he could kill that bitch that harmed his little Angel...Did he just say that? His angel? He didn't care- she was his.

She moans in her sleep, breathy and husky with sleep. Her hands tighten around his shirt, grasping it like she wanted him closer. Her hips now ground into his hips and he stilled. He stiffened, his body and his cock. He could feel the blood rushing to it, hardening under her warmth need rubbing against his dick. "Mitchie... Please," she moans, her breathy moan tickling his neck. The hair on the back of his neck raised, goosebumps littering his whole body.

He bit back a satisfied moan and looked down over her shoulder at her hips moving under the sheet. He shouldn't be allowing this. He shouldn't- He didn't care. He wanted this.

His hands fall to her hips, helping her grind against him. His pants were so tight, that every movement caused painful pleasure to strike through him. Like it was intruding every nerve of his body. His mind was blank besides the pleasure and her sinful-looking body.

His lips planted a kiss on her shoulder, testing the waters. She breathily moaned. So, he kissed again, this time on her neck. This time it emits a loud satisfied moan. So loud he thought it woke her up. But it didn't. He was glad that it didn't, he wanted to enjoy this moment more.

Her body shakes as she orgasms against him. He doesn't let her hips stop, forcing them to continue against his clothed-hardened dick. As she finishes, he holds her up by the back of her neck, slowly leaning her back to get a better view. Her mouth was open and her eyes were closed. Her breasts were perky, and resting in front of his face. He leans in, giving one a kiss, his eyes watching her face so he would know if she was about to wake up. His tongue swirls around her hardened nipple, sucking softly as his lips closed around the areolae. His hands now massaged her hip softly, still going along with her movements. He was about to cum in his pants- He hasn't done that since he was a horny teenager. That was a full generation ago.

"Oh my gosh, angel- You feel so good," He moans softly. He couldn't help but praise her, even when she was unconscious. Her body seemed to react to the praise, her hips grinding harder. That was when he realized she was awake. He stammers, attempting to explain himself. But she cuts him off as she kisses his neck, licking and sucking the heated flesh.

"Tell me later," She moans, biting the area she just kissed. He groans hard at her teeth, never expecting her to be so harsh. He loved it.

"Fuck, Princess. You're going to give me a heart attack." He could hear his heart in his head, it was thumping, racing so loud. It almost vibrated his skull.

"You should have thought about earlier," She retorted with a click of her tongue. The click was loud like it was pulled off from the suction.

Y/n palmed his dick under her hips, grabbing it and massaging his length. He doubled over, his head resting on her shoulder. His left hand rested on the small of her back. "Do you want to continue you this, Mr. Rapp?" She asks sheepily. He nods into her shoulder, his right hand stopping hers. He lifts her with ease, placing her down once he stands.

"Since all you do is write... You should write this." He swiftly removed his belt with one hand, quickly maneuvering it around her hands as makeshift handcuffs. He tugged on it, checking if it was secure around her wrist. "Not too tight?" She asks, his eyes landing on her blown-out eyes. She nods, biting her lip with a small smirk.

That smirk was wiped off when he pulled her legs to the edge of the bed. His face was right in front of her mound. "Say you don't want this and I'll stop..." He leaves a few kisses on her inner thigh, slowly trailing to her covered pussy. Once he gets close he goes to the other thigh. "I swear I will." He looks into her eyes, giving her the most mind-numbing sight of the night. "Please let me have a taste, angel," He begged. He fucking need to. He wants to taste her juices. Even tasting her after they've finished. He hasn't eaten since dinner and that was almost 7 hours ago. He's starving for some desert.

She swore her heart stopped when he asked that. This was like straight out of a book... Gosh, when did Mitch get so hot? Her bonded hands attempt to pull her panties down but he smacks her hands lightly. "Let me," He growls, then begins pulling them down with his teeth. Once they were down at her thighs his hands removed them swiftly. Then they spread her apart, the flat of his tongue taking a long slow lick at her cunt. His tongue wiggles into her folds, collecting all of her release from earlier. He groans at it, the vibrations traveling to her clit. "I'm going to need more of this, angel," He murmurs before he continues lapping against her clit. "Taste' like honey." He then rises and pulls her into their first kiss. She groans, not expecting it to be like this. She did taste sweet, his tongue played with hers before he moved back down to play with her little button.

His hands rubbed up and down her thighs, as he ate her out. Her bound hands playing with his hair. The restriction of her hands pulled her breasts together, giving him the best sight ever. He was so hard it was begging to break free, already passed dripping precum.

"Mitch, please," she tried to breathe but her lungs were moving too fast. He got the hint, knowing well enough she was about to release on his face. And she does, she squirted all over his face; The liquid dripped from his face as he continues to tongue fuck her hole as his thumb rubbed her clit. She screams, letting her pleasure take over her form. Her body shakes, her thighs closing on his head like earmuffs.

After a bit, he pulls up and hungrily kisses her. But the kiss was slow somehow, wanting her to feel everything. Wanted her to taste her release more. He didn't want this quick. He wanted to drag it out as long as possible. He wanted a book, not a flimsy page.

His hands roamed her naked body, feeling all the imperfections that were viewed as perfections. It was like she was created by the gods. Hell, she was a goddess to him. He wanted to get on his knees in all different forms when he saw her file. He immediately asked to be her bodyguard. He wanted her to be his. He wanted to take her. And now, after just a few weeks he was able to.

"I need you, angel, I need you to say you're mine." Her hands fumbled with his pants, wanting to free his member. "Say it," he growled.

"I'm yours, Mr. Rapp!" she screams. He then flips her, her ass in the air. She didn't see him when she looked over her shoulder. But he felt her. He was lapping at her pussy again. Just when she thought he was going to eat her out again, she heard shuffling. He stripped himself of his boots first, the thumb being heard when he threw it near the lovesac he sat at earlier. Then quickly removing his clothes, he left his boxers on and pressed his hips against her. His clothed dick rested perfectly between her slit. "Do you feel that," He groans as he grabs her hips and pulls them to his. "Do you feel what you do to me?"

She wiggles her hips. "It's hard not to when your cock is pressed against my minge," She made sure she sounded sarcastic with her tone, wanting to make sure she was talking back.

He gave a dark chuckle as he kicked his boxers off. "I love it when you're bratty." His body leaned, pressing against her as he unbuckled his belt. He rubs her wrists, kissing them before separating them on each side. He held her hands down on the bed as his dick pressed against her entrance. "Do you want this? Do you want my cock to stretch you out?" She nods a yes, whimpering and pushing her hips back.

When it enters, it enters completely. He slowly moved inside her, not caring that the stretch was too much for her. It felt too good. For both of them. His thrust slowly became faster, fucking her with a medium rhythm.

Y/n's moans were all over the place, screaming then needy. Once he angles his cock to hit that delectable spot she was back to screaming. "That's right, dollface; Scream for me," he growls into her ear. He then plants a small kiss under her ear, telling her she is so good for him. "S'good; Taking your bodyguard's cock so well."

His trust get harder, now his hips were slapping her clit with each thrust. Her head shakes from side to side as the pleasure is too much. She wanted more.

Her body from her previous orgasms made her so sensitive. Especially her most recent one. But yet all she wanted was more. More pleasure against her craved sensitive body.

She could do was take his dick repeatedly. Her arms were pinned with one of his hands and the other held her hip to force it down and to stop it from squirming.

"My pretty angel, so pretty," he groans. He kisses her wet cheek. Somewhere along the way she had started crying from the amount of pleasure. This didn't stop him, only turned him on even more.

"Mitch," she gasps loudly. Her back arches due to the upcoming climax and she forcefully belches her orgasm around him. He chuckled darkly and slowed down her thrust to tease her and her eyes rolled back because it felt better for her.

He could sense his release appearing soon. "You want me to cum inside?" He wanted to go inside but her knew better to do that. Y/n shakes her head in a panic. He hums I'm response and kisses her cheek to reassure her. The rubber in his stomach then lets go in his stomach as he pulls out and cums all over her stomach. Some of his elixirs landed on her tits and he just doubles over and licks it off.

"Instead of spiders I think I might want to study this," she hums appreciatively pointing to his semi-hard length. He smirks. "Come here," she purrs. He obeys and leans down. Her hand grasps his cock and starts rubbing it as he hovered over her. She teases the tip, her finger gliding back and forth over the red needy bump. From time to time her finger would play along the slit and he would shudder as he tried to keep his eyes open to stare into her alluring eyes. "Doing s'good for me," she mocks playfully. "My Mr. Rapp is so handsome," she whispers. He shudders again and nods as his dick starts to twitch in her hand. "Love my bodyguard's cock, so fucking big," she moans before he cums again. He cums with a loud primal growl as his cum close and covers hers body once more.

[5aaliyah5]

Never Ever Getting Rid of Me (Hange Zoë x Reader)

Just a simple one shot I decided to write 😭

Based on the song: "Never Ever Getting Rid of Me" From Waitress the musical (I love that musical sm and this song reminded me of Hange).

Hange is a very persistent suitor.

(thats it- they just wanna date you 😭✌️)

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: slight cussing, other than that none

“I went on a date” Y/N threw the multiple Keg mugs down with frustration. She had just gotten to work and was cleaning up the multiple cups that had been left on the tables from the nigh before. Another one of the tavern girls said she would close and clean up for the night since she worked the night shift, but she had apparently gotten sick towards the end of her shift and figured she would leave it for the morning. How lucky of Y/N to be in the morning shift the next day.

Another girl- Hannah- smiled upon hearing Y/N’s words. “Really? How was it?”

“About as good as a date can go with a member of the Survey Corps-” Y/N started but Hannah’s head shot up and slightly startled Y/N, causing her to stop

“No-” hannah gasped. “Y/N you didn't!” It was an unspoken rule that the girls who worked there agreed upon. With so many of their customers being Scouts who either wanted to drink away the memories or have a genuinely good time before they might die on the next expedition- it was a silent rule that the girls there were not to get attached to or romantically involved with any scout members. It saved them from the pain of possibly never seeing their beloved customers again.

“I did, and now my poor taste in dating is coming back to haunt me! They are in my section-” Y/N subtly pointed to a certain scout who remained seated at a table. Their back was turned towards Y/N and Hannah, leaving Hannah unable to see their face. “We ran into each other while I was out buying paper for the book im writing, and they asked me out. I know I should have said no, but they were so charming it was hard to…” Y/N pouted, as she explained the story to Hannah. “The date was not terrible in all honesty, its just… Their profession- You know why we don't get mixed up with the Survey Corps.”

“Here, ill go cover for you. I wanna see what made you agree to go out with them in the first place!” Hannah chuckled as she grabbed a clean mug to bring to them. It was rare that people came into the tavern without drinking in the first place- so Hannah had figured the same would be true of this customer.

There were few people actually in the Tavern, especially so earl in the morning. The few who were were either travelers who were enjoying a basic breakfast, or those who needed a morning drink (and most likely an afternoon and evening drink as well).

“Good Morning, How can I help you?” Hannah put on her best customer service voice as she looked down towards the Brunette soldier.

“Where is Y/N?” Hange asked, taken aback with Hannah coming up to their table. Hannah, paused for a section as she examined Hange. They weren't anything special in her eyes, possibly seemed like sort of a nerd, and she internally laughed at how predictable Y/N was with her type in dating. Hannah also noticed that in their hands they held a cute little bouquet

“Ill be taking your order for today” Hannah smiled. “She’s busy cleaning behind the counter since last night the cleaning didn't get done.”

“Thank you, but I really need to see Y/N” Hange answered. “I really don't mean to bother her, but wasn't sure how else to find her. She mentioned she worked here, and I wanted to speak with her about our date a few nights ago-“

Hannah looked to Y/N, which caused Hange to catch sight of her. Hannah shrugged and internally Y/N could hear her excuse ‘I tried’. Y/N sighed a rolled her eyes as she walked out to Hange’s table and slammed her hands down, making those around the table go silent. Before she could say what she initially was going to, her eyes caught the flower bouquet and she blushed. “Please just take the mixed bouquet and leave- just leave!” Y/N practically shouted, as the silence in the tavern made it carry throughout the establishment. She needed to scare them off (even if a part of her didn't want to), so that whatever feelings were developing between the two of them would cease.

Hannah and Hange both looked taken aback by her response. “You get 5 minutes before the boss gets back. Ill cover your section-” Hannah says as she places a hand on her shoulder in a reassuring manner. “Either settle with them to do this later or get them out of here and Be quick.” She shoots Hange a glare as she walked behind the counter where Y/N had previously been to continue the task of cleaning.

Y/N sat down across from Hange, her arms folded on the table as they stared at one another: “Go ahead.” She sighed “What’s your argument?”

“Im a Section commander-” They started and Y/N interrupted.

“So that means you’ll die sooner?” Y/N tilted her head, as Hange’s face didn't even shift at the question. They must have come to terms with their (probable) death if they were so unfazed by Y/N’s unfiltered and rather morbid ask.

“Well yes- but I get better pay as well. I would be able to take care of you-” They responded. Y/N brushed that off, waving her hand.

“Tch, I don't need anyone to take care of me-” Y/N huffed out. The gall of this- this- Y/N couldn't even find the words to describe them! “Thats why I have this job. I get by just fine Section Commander.”

“I would be a great lover” They grinned and added “and consider myself pretty decent to look at.”

“That sounds rather cocky of you, don't you think?” Y/N was now smirking as Hange continued to go on. She had to give it to them, they were persistent. “But you also look like you dont shower regularly. You admitted as much to me a few nights ago.”

“I did for our date-” Hange argued and Y/N laughed at that. What a very soldier thing to say. “Would hygiene be something you would want me to improve on before you considered dating me?”

“Hm- well maybe more regular showers.” Y/N admitted “But thats besides the point! You’re in the Corps. I dont- I cant do that to myself. That would be like shooting myself in the foot! What? I get attached to you only for you to die by the hands of a titan and leave me a sobbing widow?” Y/N raised an eyebrow “Not gonna happen.”

“Hm, you make a hard bargain” Hange now folded their arms, as they started to really think “Would it help if I said I research titans and what they are?” They asked

“Thats nice- but no.” Y/N shook her head now having a genuine smile on her face. Hange sighed and just as they were about to continue, Y/N’s boss (the owner of the Tavern) approached the table, an irritated look upon his face.

“Y/N!” He said, and she stood as her eyes widened. She had been caught. “Say your ‘I love you’s’ and get back to work!” He said and Y/N blushed once more.

“N-No its not like tha-” She didnt finish her sentence though as he cut her off, raising a hand to silence her.

“I dont care.” He said, and turned to walk away and speak to another customer.

Y/N, frowning, turned to Hange. “You should be heading out now, i've got work to do.” And with that, Y/N went on about her day.

•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•★•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•

It was silent the next few days, nothing eventful happening. She figured Hange had gotten whatever they had in their system, out, and had moved onto the next poor tavern girl that would give them a chance. That’s how it usually went with soldiers. They would flirt and go on a date or two with a town girl, then get over them quickly if they weren’t exciting enough.

Y/N yawned as she exited the tavern after a particularly slow day. The sun was setting, and she held the door open for the closing shift as they entered. The door closed and just as Y/N was about to start walking, something was caught in the corner of her eye.

“Huh!?” Y/N Jumped backwards, barely landing on her feet as she slightly stumbled, catching herself. To the right of her, right outside the door, was none other than Section Commander Hange Zoë (which did have a nice ring to it now that she thought about it). They were sitting on the floor, head down, as they looked up when Y/N addressed them, “Wha-What are you doing here? Are you stalking me now?”

“No!” Hange stood to attention, almost as if they were in front of the commander. “No No, I swear Im not! Its just…I was in town with a few friends and… Levi took my horse.”

“Took… Your horse?” She asked, incredulous at the response they gave her. ‘You have to be kidding me…’

“Yeaaaahhh…” They scratched the back of their head “I pissed him off and he left me here… I was just about to start walking back to the base, but its at least a two hour walk.”

“Thats the stupidest thing i've ever heard.” She replied, her face deadpanned “Maybe you shouldn't have pissed him off. Fortunate for you, Im off work.” She looked the other way, down the pathway that would take her home.

“So you wanna go on another date is what im hearing?” They seemed to perk up.

“What?” Y/N snapped her head back to them “No- Stay focused! I can help you get back to the scouts base-” She shook her head, turning to start walking in the direction she had previously been looking towards. “You're helpless.”

“How?” Hange followed after her, now more hopeful at their predicament.

“Ill just get my horse.” Y/N said like it was no big deal “I've been riding since I was a little girl, so I could take you back to the base and get back home in less than 30 minutes.”

“You would help me out like that?” Y/N tilted her head

“Yeah, but you have to promise not to show up at my work again…” Hange reached their hand out, and Y/N took it as they shook.

“Deal.”

•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•★•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•◌•

Y/N had been quick to go into her house and inform her parents of her quick trip, and then came back outside, unfortunately being followed by her mother. “Ah, and who is this Y/N? You've never brought home a customer so that must mean this one is special right?” Her mother mused as she stepped off the porch and towards Hange.

“Mama, im just doing a friend a favor” She paused and the asked “Please go inside-” She didn't listen though, as Y/N’s mother, walked up to Hange, visibly shorter than Hange especially in her older age. She seemed to examine Hange, adjusting her own glasses.

“Nice to meet you Ma’am. Im Section Commander Hange Zoë of the Survey Corps” And very quickly, Y/N’s mother grabbed onto Hange’s arm, pulling them towards Y/N with strength Y/N wasnt sure where the hell she had gotten. Her mother had always been a frail woman, could easily be blown away by a strong gust of wind. It must be that mothers strength that Y/N had always heard about in stories, she guessed.

“Mama! Your manners!” Y/N blushed at the display, and her mother ignored her.

“You’ve found yourself a nice strong soldier Y/N! A section Commander!” She said happily, and Hange also blushed. “I prayed this day would happen- having someone to take care of you. You work way too hard for how young you are-”

“Me and Hange are not together Mama-” Y/N tried to dispute her mothers claim “They are just a friend” she said, walking towards her mother.

“Really?” Y/N’s mother looked towards hange and shook her head “What a shame, you would look so cute together.”

“Okay Okay, thats enough. Im gonna get Buttercup and take Hange back to the scouts base. Ill be back before dinner okay?” And as she said that, she pulled hange towards herself and away from her mother, trying to lead them toward the horse stables. Y/N’s mother nodded and waved off Hange and Y/N.

“I am so so sorry about that- I didn't know she would do that-” Y/N apologized as Hange followed her once more.

“No, its fine. Its sweet how your mother cares about you and hopes for a good future for you.” Hange smiles. For a second, Y/N turns around and wants to question about Hange’s own parents, but she felt the question was too personal for how recently they met one another.

Y/N cleared her throat, as she approached Buttercups stall. “Here she is-” Y/N smiled and opened the wooden gate. Buttercup, a beautiful friesian mare with a black coat.

“Rather interesting name for a horse, considering buttercup flowers are dangerous for horses to digest” Hange noted and Y/N petted Buttercups mane, as the horse leaned into her touch.

“Yeah, when she was young my father got her for super cheap from a guy in wall Sina who had no idea what he was doing with horses and had fed her some buttercups.” Y/N recalled “The guy sold my dad her, thinking she would die within the next few days and might as well get whatever he could for her before she did. My dad though, who came from generations of farmers who had always cared for horses, knw just what to give her to make her feel better and she was healthy within the next 6 weeks. He then gave her to me for my 7th birthday, since she was such a beautiful horse. Too beautiful to do hard farm work, and worthy of being shown off around town.” Y/N smiled “all the girls in town were so jealous of her. And luckily she is still young- she has another 15 years in her with the way her health is” Y/N smiled and then turned to hange, seeing as they were intensely watching her.

“S-sorry” She looked down, as she started guiding Buttercup out of the stables “I just really love horses” She says.

“Don't apologize Y/N.” Hange stated firmly as they walked towards Y/N and behind her, reaching out to pet Buttercup as well. The sweet sweet horse simply tilted her head towards Hange and accepted the pets. “You should never apologize for what you love. Its what makes you, you-”

“Thank you.” Y/N said earnestly, and then went to grabbed the saddle for Buttercup. She placed in on her back, and adjusted it so that it wouldn't slide off. Y/N then mounted Buttercup, making sure to check and see if the saddle was placed correctly and she wouldn't slide off, before turning to hange once more.

“Its not the most comfortable position, but she could carry the both of us comfortably and is the only horse I have experience with.” Y/N said as she held out a hand for Hange to grip onto. They were fluid in their motions as they mounted the horse, sitting behind her, though she figured that was because they were used to ridding horses themselves.

“Its more than fine.” Hange responded as they gripped onto Y/N’s hips. Y/N shuddered as she scolded them.

“Move your hands higher, I know you can and I know you know that-” Y/N grinned, glad that Hange couldn't see it.

“Ah, right-” hange gingerly moved their hands a little more upwards to a comfortable position around her abdomen.

“Right, lets get going while we still have sunlight-” Y/N pulled on the reigns as she guided the horse into a quick canter. She didn't want to push Buttercup, as she was just used to either Y/N riding her short distances or helping with light farm work. As they cantered towards the scouts base, making great timing considering they were not hitting max speed, Y/N finally asked : “so, you’re a titan researcher? How does that work?”

Y/N could feel Hange perk up once more at the line of questioning. “Yes! Its fascinating work I assure you, and so fulfilling.” They started “I actually have two of my own-”

“Titans!? Are you mad?” Y/N asked, trying to turn her head to look towards Hange. They were crazy- she had almost gotten with a crazy person- she thinks in her mind.

“Perhaps a little. At Least, thats what most tell me” Hange shrugged, again unfazed. Y/N wished she couldnt give a fuck like they did.

“Alright- So what are their names?” She asked and then added “I hope you named them at least-”

“Sawney and Bean” They clasped their hands together as they recounted their experiences. Y/N listened, enthralled at actually hearing what titans were really like and reacted to certain things (aside from how they wanted to eat people). “They also were hard to get approval for, but eventually Commander Erwin relented with my unorthodox methods. Still, they are heavily watched since they are still a risk for people if they got out-”

“you didn't tame them then?” Y/N clutched onto the rope, now concerned for Hange’s safety (great- she thinks sarcastically).

“Who said I wanted to tame them? I think they are perfect just the way the are!” Hange smiled, seeming genuine in their response. “If I were to tame them, then I wouldn't get as much information as I needed out of them”

“But… they could eat you- They want to eat you!” Y/N argues “what if you get hurt?”

“Perhaps,” Y/N could feel Hange’s hands tighten on her waist. “I think thats a risk regardless though of if I kept titans or didn't. My chances of getting physically hurt are reduced, sure, but emotionally, us humans hurt each other all the time-” Hange said, and Y/N could feel the mood shift- “it doesn't mean I shouldn't stop loving people in fear of getting hurt, or not care about things. If anything, the chance of getting hurt but continuing to get another day to prove myself makes loving more rewarding every day. And in the end, some things are worth getting hurt for, even dying for.”

They… had a point, Y/N mentally admitted to herself. Why should she stop loving people in fears of getting hurt? She didn't stop loving her mother or father despite their old age and that they would eventually die as well. It didn't stop her from loving Hannah, even though the chance of something happening to Hannah was just as high as Hange’s or any of the scouts was because of her gender (Authors note: because men suck and terrorize women no matter what they do).

Y/N just nodded her head, not saying anything else the remainder of the ride to the base. She had a lot to ponder over for the evening. They didn't have to wait long as in the distance, Y/N and Hange could make out the lights from the scouts base, coming to life as the last rays of suns dipped beneath the horizon. As Y/N pulled into the gates, slowing down into a trot as she examined where to stop, they both took sight of three figures.

“You cheated.” Levi states as he, miche and Erwin stood outside, seeming to be… relaxing, and waiting for Hange’s return.

“You never said I couldn't get a ride-” Hange responded, obviously triumphant as they dismounted the horse and landed on their feet smoothly. Y/N repositioned buttercup so that she could see off Hange better. “You just said to figure out how to get back to base myself.”

“Tch. Whatever.” he responded as Hange laughed.

“You better go and check on those friends of yours to make sure they didn't get into any trouble-” Y/N said, smiling as Hange continued to laugh. They stopped for a second to look up to her. Y/N felt her heart start to flutter in excitement, just seeing how they looked to her, a way she hadn't noticed before.

“Ah, so they told you about Sawney and Bean?” Erwin mused and walked towards Hange and Y/N.

“What didn't they tell me about them? Don't worry, ill keep it under wraps from the town” Y/N reassured him. “I want to thank you all personally for your dedicated work. If you ever stop by Henry’s Tavern in town, ask for Y/N and ill give you four some food and drinks, on the house.”

“We appreciate that, and look forward to getting to know you-” Erwin stopped “What is your name?

“Y/N L/N” Y/N responded, reaching down to shake his hand. “Nice to formally meet you Commander Erwin.” Y/N readjusted herself as she noticed it was now nighttime. It didn't matter as she was on horse back and could get back home in no time now that there was only one rider and could gallop her way home. “Hey Section Commander-” Y/N called out from where she sat on Buttercup. All four of the scouts turned their head, intrigued by what she had to say “Ill take you up on that offer for a second date after all. Maybe you were right- Might just be rewarding to fall for you after all…”

“Ill make it rewarding for you. I promise.” And with a shake of her head and grin, Y/N rode off, back to her home to eat dinner and sleep.

“Im gonna marry her.” Hange states as they turned back towards their friends. “I promise you all that.”

“Only in your dreams, four eyes” Levi responded, though he also did not doubt that Hange could and would somehow accomplish that. He also knew that they were one to keep their promises, and that gave him hope for Hange’s future.