#they spend half their bowing time in each other's arms

[gillianthecat]

I have no problem watching ice dancers and realizing it's just acting. Honestly it never occurs to me a team would be anything other than friends and colleagues. But I've watched four (4) skates of Sui and Han and my inner shipper romantic is coming out strong.

(Also. I didn't think I enjoyed watching pairs but they are BREATHTAKING.)

And of course this moment was gifed and put on tumblr—

#stumbles into the pairs fandom five years too late #to be clear i have no idea if they're dating and the odds are that they're not #but the way they've held each other after each skate! #they spend half their bowing time in each other's arms #and once he gave her a tiny kiss on her belly right after they finished while they were in their ending pose #but also the relationship between pairs skaters must be SO intense #the trust needed to do what they do #they've been working together for like half their lives! #and it seems pretty clear that they do love each other #pairs skating #figure skating #sui/han #thank you gif makers!

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 3

in which spencer reid spends a rainy day teaching inexperienced fem!reader how to touch him. of course, her efforts don't go unrecognized, much less unrewarded

part one | part two | part four

18+ (smut) warnings: inexperienced reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, oral m receiving, reader swallows lol, a truly sickening amount of praise, like really, you JOKINGLY refer to each other as dirty sluts, r has longish hair, spit mentioned once, thigh riding (moans loudly), its filthy idk what to tell you, i feel like i've crossed the desert on foot i don't even know what else is in here, your honor they're in love, i take you to dinner first, this part is stupidly long a/n: had a fucking field day the three separate times i had to rewrite this el oh el... but think i like how it turned out?! anyway, if u like this PLS lmk bc writing it took a small piece of my soul, and yes there will be a part four!! take care of yourselves!! i love you!!!

You give Spencer half a minute or so before knocking on his door for a second time. 

It’s miserable outside, and though the hallway you’re standing in now isn’t terribly cold, you’d much prefer to be in Spencer’s apartment, where it will be the same toasty 68.5 degrees as always. Not that the heating will magically dry you. And not that you’ll be there for long, if the date you’d scheduled last week goes on as planned. 

You’re getting worried, about to knock for a third time when the locks finally click and the door opens to reveal a disheveled Spencer Reid—not at all looking ready for a date. You take in his ensemble; blue checked pajama pants, FBI Academy crewneck, the usual questionably paired socks. He’s rubbing his droopy eyes, which slowly widen as he notices your attire. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, our date! I mean—you look really nice. I look… like this. Why don’t you come in while I get ready to go?”

He holds the door open a little wider and you step through, relishing in the familiar warmth as you pull your hood down and excess water droplets spatter on the ground. 

“When did you get in?” you ask, hanging your raincoat up on a hook. You know he’d wrapped up a case yesterday evening, but you’d gone to sleep before the team left Cincinnati. 

Spencer pauses in the middle of the room, staring at the antique flooring like he forgot what he was doing. 

“Uh… four hours ago.”

“Wh—four hours? Spencer, you must be exhausted.”

He laughs awkwardly, running a tired hand over his face. 

“I mean… I’ve definitely felt better.”

You kick your soaked shoes off and cross the room until you’re toe to toe with him. Immediately his hands settle on your waist and yours find his arms. His eyes are kind, and he’s clearly pleased by your presence despite his lack of energy. 

“The weather’s terrible, anyway. Let’s just go out another day.”

His features have softened and you can see how tired he truly is—not just in his bleary eyes, but the way his fingers grasp weakly to you, the way his head bows slightly. It seems bone-deep. 

“But I haven’t seen you in a week. I don’t want you to go home.”

Your lips twist. A clap of thunder rolls in the distance and the rain starts coming down even harder against the windowpanes. 

“We could hang out here. We can take a nap!”

Spencer sighs—half resignation, half disappointment. 

“But we made such good plans,” he laments. 

You kiss his cheek. 

“Plans that can be rescheduled. The bookstore will still be there next weekend.”

It takes him a moment to settle into the idea, but you watch the exhaustion win. 

“Okay. But no nap. I want to be awake for you. Coffee?”

You nod enthusiastically, beaming at the prospect of getting to spend the day doing nothing with him. Spencer mirrors your grin, before pressing a kiss to your head.

“You’re so cute.” Heat creeps into your cheeks and you can’t think of a satisfactory reply, but in the end you don’t need to, as he tugs gently on your hands. “C’mon. Tell me what mug you want.”

The kitchen counter bites into your palms as you lean with your back to it, watching Spencer putter all around the kitchen as he works on the coffee. It makes you tired just to watch. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap? Caffeine isn’t a substitute for sleep, you know.”

“I do know,” he agrees, measuring coffee grounds. “But other than last night, I actually slept fairly well this week.”

“You seem exhausted.”

“I… am tired in lots of ways. Not all of which can be resolved with more sleep.” he admits.

Your heart drops ever so slightly at the way his voice weakens as he looks through the fridge. Sometimes you remember there are still things you don’t know about him—sides you haven’t met. His work side is one of them, and it more than a little intimidates you.

“Bad case?” you ask, voice quiet and crackling with nervous energy. 

Spencer nods, approaching and setting a carton of milk on the counter behind you—caging you in with his arms in the process. It’s hard to find the words when he’s this close, but you manage to stumble through them. 

“Do… do you wanna talk about it?”

Spencer hums, tilting his head before gently saying, “not right now. But thank you for offering, lovely.”

“Okay, well—if you change your mind… if there’s anything I can do to make you feel better…”

Finally he stops with the teasing—the unabashed staring at your lips, the faux-attentive nods—and drops his head to your level to kiss you properly. It’s obviously an attempt to get you to shut up, you’re not dumb enough so as to miss that—but you don’t really care why he’s doing it so long as he does it at all. 

“I feel pretty great right now, actually,” he murmurs against your lips, a hint of a smile coloring his words. “Do you want sugar in yours?”

“Um…”

Your eyes dart helplessly between his as he pulls away and you struggle to un-fluster yourself enough to answer his simple question. Spencer seems to delight in this. The longer it takes you, the bigger his perfect smile gets. 

“You took too long. You’re getting sugar.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” you plead later on the couch, for the third or fourth time, setting your mostly-empty mug on the coffee table. 

His eyebrows raise. 

“I’m sure, honey.”

“But I want to help,” you pout, pulling your knees into your chest. Spencer regards you for a moment from the other end of the couch, before beckoning you closer wordlessly. 

“You are helping,” he assures you, gently grabbing your wrist as you crawl into his lap. He rubs soothing circles into the delicate skin with his thumb. “You being here and being you is plenty.”

It’s the closest you’ve been to him since before he left, and while you’ve all but given up on asking him to sleep with you, it doesn’t mean you don’t think about it multiple times per day. It’s especially difficult to keep your thoughts PG when you haven’t seen him in a week, and his hair is all messy, and he’s got his pajamas on, and you’re in his lap, and he’s looking at you like that. 

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer murmurs, likely concerned by your lack of response and the glazed-over look in your eyes. You reanimate, averting your gaze to the spot on your thigh he’s now rubbing absentmindedly. 

“Nothing. I just missed you.”

“I missed you a lot, too.” You don’t even have to look up to know that his brows have twisted into a pleasant sort of bemusement, like you are a particularly complex puzzle—you can hear it as he continues speaking. “I’m still not used to having something external take up so much of my attention while I’m trying to do my job. I’ve never had that before. Not something good, anyway. It’s like every time I leave, I’m thinking about you more than the time before. And I was already thinking about you a lot.”

The corner of your mouth twitches as he rambles. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” he chuckles. “You prove to be incredibly distracting even when you’re hundreds of miles away. Do you know how many nights I almost called you before realizing it was one in the morning?”

A slow smile spreads over your face. 

“Oh? Whatever could you have been calling about at one in the morning?”

You’re teasing him, and it works. He blushes adorably. 

“Um… probably exactly what you’d expect. In hindsight I think it’s best that I refrained.”

“What?” You grin, incredulous, forgetting your shyness and leaning closer. “You totally should’ve. I’ve never had phone sex before. I would’ve done it.”

“No, you wouldn’t!” Spencer laughs. “It would have just been me talking to myself with you on the other line. I don’t think phone sex is really up your alley.”

“Shut up,” you laugh as your lips meet. He smiles into the kiss. Before you get too lost in it, you pull away, leaning back when he tries to follow you. “I think you’re over-complicating it. It’s just dirty talk, right? I can totally do that. It’s just, like… blah blah blah, dirty slut, something something…”

You trail off as he gives you a look. Poker faced—aside from the slightly narrowed eyes sparkling with humor. 

“You want me to refer to you as a dirty slut?”

Maintaining eye contact is an uphill battle—you crack in a matter of seconds, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes stubbornly. 

“No. For all you know I want to call you a dirty slut.”

It’s a ridiculous, but he recognizes the bravado for what it is, still smiling slightly as he rubs your hips. 

“Right. I apologize for assuming. But just for future reference, I don’t want to be called that, and I don’t think I’d be comfortable calling you that, either.”

“But you can call me other stuff,” you remind your boyfriend, pulling back and still not looking at him. 

“Yeah? Like what?”

And just like that, you’re shy again. 

“I don’t know… nice things. I like when you’re nice.”

“I like being nice to you.” It’s so sincere-sounding that you meet his gaze, examining his face. His eyes are clear and soft on you, the only source of warm light on such a grey day, as his hands keep running slow lines over your sides. “Kiss?”

And how could you ever deny him anything? 

As has happened before, the kiss starts out innocent enough. And it’s not that it gets particularly heated, or anything—it’s just that it doesn’t end, and after a few moments your mouth slips open and so does his and that’swhat gets both of you worked up over a period of minutes. Pressure and heat that you’re becoming accustomed to build between your legs, and you don’t even notice that you’ve begun rocking back and forth in his lap until Spencer is attempting to still your hips with patient but assertive hands. 

“Honey, that’s—slow down, sweetheart.”

Finally he gets a grip on you and you realize as soon as you stop moving that there had been friction occurring—and you’re pretty damn sure you know what you were grinding against. 

Your whole body feels hot with arousal and embarrassment. 

“Oh my god—I’m sorry,” you mumble, moving your hands from his shoulders to cover your face. “That was an accident, I—”

“It’s fine,” Spencer assures you, squeezing your waist gently. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing because I know we haven’t… gotten there, yet.”

A moment passes—your hands fall to the FBI stitching across his chest, studying the letters without really seeing them. You haven’t gotten there yet… but why not? Why haven’t you touched him, or even seen him? You think back to the few times he’s touched you and realize that you had been too busy with either your own insecurities or pleasure to genuinely consider how it might be affecting him. He says your name gently, drawing your attention. 

“You okay?”

You nod haltingly, brow furrowed as you think. 

“I—yeah. I was just realizing that I haven’t, like… touched you, yet.”

It’s silent for another long second, and you glance up, to where he’s studying you with a dissonant kind of relaxed scrutiny—a knowing confidence that probably comes with a lot more experience than you have. 

“Do you want to?”

Woah. 

Usually you have to beg on hands and knees and prepare a slideshow presentation before he agrees to doing anything sexual in nature. He’s never so overtly invited or initiated it before. Not that you’re complaining by any stretch of the imagination.  

You nod shyly, still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 

“If you want to, I can show you how. But it’s also absolutely okay if you don’t.”

Show you how? 

Your brain is melting into sludge at the idea. 

“I do,” you admit, meeting his gaze again. It’s kind, and you know he really wouldn’t be upset if you said no—but now that you’ve thought about it, you feel deeply compelled to try. 

“Okay. Come here, first.” You lean forward expectantly, eyes fluttering shut as his hand finds the back of your neck and he pulls you into another soft kiss. By the time your lips separate again, your head is spinning. “We’re just trying something, okay? You’re allowed to stop whenever you feel like it. Really low stakes. Got it?”

You nod, still close enough that your noses brush as you do. 

“Got it.”

He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away and leaning back into the couch. 

“Scoot back a little, angel.”

Wordlessly you do so, heart pounding with nervous excitement as he lifts his hips and slides his pajama pants down just enough to where he can comfortably pull himself out, and—

Your breath catches. 

Now, you may be about as virginal as they come, but you weren’t born yesterday. You’ve seen porn, you’ve received unsolicited nudes—it is the 21st century. Yet never before have you thought to yourself; wow, that dick is the pinnacle of beauty. Perfect. Breathtaking. But there’s just no other way to describe him. 

So that’s what hits you first—how unexpectedly pretty it is. 

The size sinks in a quick second later. 

You can’t tell with perfect accuracy how many inches he is, but you’re pretty damn sure he’s big. That’s meant to fit inside of you?

No, no—that’s a consideration for another day. Right now you need to stop staring like an idiot. You glance up at his face, and he’s sporting a cocky little half-smile which lets you know you’ve been caught. Motherfucker he’s so hot. It’s unnerving. 

“Do you have something you’d like to say?” he asks politely, quite obviously containing his amusement. But you can’t summon a sufficiently sarcastic response. 

Your voice comes so soft when you reply, “you’re pretty.”

Spencer melts, eyes impossibly softening. 

“Pretty?” His smile is earnest now. He strokes your cheek and you can’t not lean into his touch. 

“Mhm. I want to, um…” your lips twist to the side as you look back down, finding he’s not gotten less intimidating since you last checked. “But what if I’m bad at it?” you whisper. He chuckles, brushing hair over your shoulder.  

“It’s kind of a hard thing to be bad at. And I’m gonna help you, okay?”

It’s the honesty with which he speaks to you that makes you feel so safe. There are no hidden intentions or words that seem to mean one thing but really mean another. Spencer wants you as a person more than he wants you as a body and that’s been clear since the first time he touched you. You take a deep breath. 

“Okay. What do I do?”

“First, you’re gonna spit in your hand.”

You look up, alarmed. 

“You want me to intentionally get my spit on you? Is that not your worst nightmare?”

“Believe it or not, I’m not super worried about yours,” he teases. “But if you’d prefer, I can spit in your hand.”

“Actually, mine is fine,” you laugh nervously. 

Hesitantly, you do as instructed, even though it seems frankly bizarre. 

“Good. Now just wrap your hand around it, like this.” His voice is quiet, focused as he guides your hand downward. Your heart rate ticks up again as he encourages you to wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He feels much warmer than you’d expected—his skin is silken beneath your touch but he’s undeniably hard and that sort of eliminates any sense of him being fragile from the equation. 

“It’s gonna be less sensitive down here—and then, up here—” he slides your hand back up, covering your thumb with his own and swiping it just below the head of his cock on the underside. He hisses and you look up in fascination. “That’s the most sensitive part.”

Without further instruction, you do it again, keeping your touch light and watching his face for a reaction. His drawn brows twitch, furrowing deeper for a second, and his lips part. A heavy exhalation passes between them and quickly builds into a breathy laugh. 

“What?” you murmur, over-eager to please and very nervous to do something wrong. 

“Nothing. Just feels good, that’s all.”

“Don’t laugh,” you pout. Of course that makes him laugh again, and he leans forward to kiss your head. 

“I’m laughing at myself, angel. I’m a grown man fighting for my life from a handjob that you’ve barely started. I knew it would be different with you but I didn’t realize it would be this different.”

Heat rises in your cheeks and you look away. 

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“I’m not lying,” he urges, grabbing your free hand and encouraging you to uncurl your fingers. His thumb traces circles in your open palm, before capturing your entire hand in his. “Do you feel how much softer your hand is than mine?”

You frown, attempting to feel whatever it is that he’s pointing out. Despite the fact that you think he has very nice hands, you realize he’s right. By no means would you say that they’re rough, but you can tell where his gun normally sits in his hands, where his fountain pen rubs against his fingers. “Yeah.”

“Yeah. Anything you do is going to be perfect because it’s you.”

Spencer drops his hand to your leg, rubbing it soothingly. The other moves to cover yours—the one wrapped around him. 

“You’re gonna help me, right?” you ask quietly. Some adventurous part of you is very excited about this as an experiment—fascinated by the reactions you’ve already gotten from him and eager to push it. 

“I am. Little bit tighter, honey. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

You do as you’re told, and he’s murmuring more praise—slowly encouraging you to begin moving your hand with his own. A shaky exhale catches your attention, drawing your gaze to his face. His eyes are, of course, cast downward, but his expression is hypnotizing. Those lips remain slightly parted, and suddenly you wonder if he makes noises like you do. In that moment it becomes your life’s mission to find out. 

For a while you continue letting his hand guide your movements, but he keeps things so slow for your sake that you’re getting impatient. You forgo his direction, picking up the pace but trying to keep the rhythm he’d instilled in the motion. His hand slackens around yours. 

“Fuck,” he hisses to himself. The hand on your thigh rubs achingly deeper into the flesh. “Angel, what are you doing?”

“I want it to feel good.” Suddenly shy again, you slow down. His hips stutter, which you think may be a sign that it was working. “Am I—was that bad?” Spencer looses a breath, looking almost… frustrated?

“No, I’m just—I’m weirdly close to coming.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“Well,” he mutters, “not usually. Mostly it’s embarrassing.”

You giggle, a release of some tension, and begin pumping your hand again. His breath hitches and he finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes with his own lust-glazed ones. Heat pools deep between your legs. 

“I want you to come,” you admit quietly as you twist your wrist, brushing that spot underneath the head of his cock again. His jaw literally drops, and a look that is part confusion, part pleasure, twists his features. You see the surprise sparkling in his eyes and it only spurs you to keep talking. “I’ve never seen how you look when you do, but I’ve imagined it. I bet you look so pretty when you come, Spencer. ‘Nd then I would know that I can make you feel good, too.”

“You… you are making me feel good,” he assures you. The way his brow furrows and his  lips are parted give you a feeling that’s entirely new. Normally, you’re the one falling apart under his touch—but when it’s the other way around there’s a whole new kind of pleasure in it for you. You feel kind of powerful. Maybe even close to confident. 

“Really? I’m not this quiet when you touch me.”

“I’ve ha—ah—had more practice not making noise.”

“But why?” you implore, ignoring the fact that he’s slept with other women and enjoyed the sounds they made, and opting to brush your thumb across that extra sensitive part he definitely shouldn’t have told you about. His hips buck up and he hisses, which is immensely gratifying to you. 

“Because I like to listen.”

“What if I do, too?”

In a moment of divine inspiration , you cover the tip of his cock with your hand, swirling beads of pre-come over your palm. Spencer moans and his hips jut up into your grip. It’s a beautiful sound, just as you’d hoped. 

“Jesus, fuck.”

You understand why he seems to enjoy touching you so much. It’s so rewarding to watch as his breathing picks up and pleasure contorts his face—to watch him get messier and messier and lose his composure a bit more with each stroke of your hand. It’s so simple but Spencer looks at you like you’re exercising some arcane deviant power over him and he’s not sure he should be enjoying it as much as he is. 

Distantly you think about how it felt when he had his hands on you—and then, in clearer focus, how it felt when he went down on you. Both were perfect, but something about his lips so gentle on the most intimate, vulnerable part of you had felt like ascension. Maybe it was the emotional component, or maybe it just felt fucking good. Regardless, it seems an irresistible thought. 

You keep stroking him until his head is lolling on the back of the couch as he groans.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah, baby?”

He sounds so destroyed it makes you clench around nothing. Without any indication that you’re going to do so, you stop touching him, and the speed with which he lifts his head again is almost comical. Immediately, while he’s utterly defenseless and desperate, you ask, “can I use my mouth?” 

His eyes widen, and then shut, as he processes your request with a tiny shake of his head—probably trying to clear the haze of pleasure from his mind before he answers. 

“Honey,” he rasps eventually, opening his eyes and smoothing a hand over your hair, “you don’t have to do that just because I do. That’s not why I do it.”

“But I want to,” you murmur, shy and mildly embarrassed by what feels almost like a soft rejection. “I don’t think I could do anything, like, mind-blowing, but… I want to try.”

Your face is hot by the end of the sentence, and you can’t meet Spencer’s eyes as his fingers twitch over your hip. A quiet moment passes—but it’s short-lived.

“Okay. Go ahead, baby.”

Wide eyes dart up to his. 

“Really?”

Spencer smiles fondly, brushing an invisible speck from your cheek. 

“I don’t think I’m capable of turning that offer down. Not when it’s you.”

“Okay—um, should I just—” Spencer watches on, finding your sudden enthusiasm completely adorable as you scoot off of his lap and gingerly kneel in front of him. Your eyes are big and glassy as you look up at him, hands set politely on his knees. You squint suspiciously, eyes darting between his face and his cock, now about as hard as it’s ever been due to your toying. He knows it’s probably intimidating for a girl who has never seen one in real life, and he feels kind of bad about it. You do terrible, wonderful things to him that he doesn’t understand. “Wow. So... it looks bigger from down here.”

“Please don’t try to choke yourself,” he instructs hurriedly, leaning forward slightly. “I really don’t need you to do that. It’s fine if you can’t fit it all, I just—” he exhales shakily. Spencer is most definitely strong-willed but he can’t pretend like the sight of you on your knees for him, inches from his aching cock for the first time isn’t impacting his cognition. Most importantly he doesn’t want to make you feel pressured. He’s trying to not let how badly he wants this show in case you change your mind. 

Spencer watches as you psych yourself out—wilting like a thirsty flower. 

“But what if I’m bad at this?” you mumble, hands curling into loose fists atop his legs. Spencer pushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears. 

“What’s your worst case scenario?” he asks. Your answer is immediate. 

“That I’m so bad you make me stop halfway through.”

Spencer can’t help but laugh again. 

“I’m sorry—I just… honey, you are really underestimating how profound your effect is on me. I just almost came from a minute long handjob. I can assure you that I won’t make you stop halfway through because I’d rather not have your mouth on me. That is… that’s just not going to happen.”

You lean your cheek against his thigh. He might actually pass away. 

“Will you tell me if I’m doing something wrong?”

“Honestly, as long as you don’t bite, you’re in the clear.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and your lips pull into an embarrassed little smile. 

“Great. Thank you for that invaluable advice.”

“Of course,” he smiles. It fades slowly as you take a deep breath and look up at him, obviously steeling yourself, before leaning forward and taking him in your hand again. He watches with bated breath, repeating no sudden movements to himself over and over as your hand moves up and down a few more times and your head lowers. 

You delicately, so lightly trace your tongue from the base of his swollen cock to just underneath the leaking tip, mapping a vein, and his hips buck as you take him into your mouth experimentally. Only the first few inches fit but the sight of your lips wrapped around him, the way you’re looking at him is so unbelievably erotic Spencer knows he won’t last very long.

From a purely technical perspective—he knows he’s gotten objectively better head. Still, something about the way you’re so delicate with him, so soft and timid in the way you lick and kiss and take him into your mouth has him fighting not to come already. Maybe it’s wrong, but knowing that he’s watching you do this for the first time in your life is obscenely arousing. The idea that you’ve never trusted another person this much; that you’re letting him be the one to help you navigate something as new and as important as sexuality. The more he thinks about it, though, the more he realizes: it’s not your inexperience that turns him on. It’s just you. Everything you do is so undeniably you—he recognizes your mannerisms in every tiny motion, in every glance, and it’s killing him. You’re like a dream as you look up at him with big nervous eyes, (no, really, he has had this dream) and he remembers he wants to be reassuring you—not pondering life and human connection. 

“Look at you,” he murmurs, groaning and hips twitching as your cheeks hollow, wrapping his achingly hard cock in soft gentle warmth so sweetly it feels taboo. “So good, baby. So gorgeous like this.”

You whine around him, receptive as always to his obsequious praise, and he notices the way your hips wiggle as you seek friction. God, you must like this a lot. Spencer gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, resting his hand on your head as you begin to bob it. That, he wasn’t prepared for. He’d have been satisfied with just kitten-licks and suckling but he won’t complain about this. It’s slow, and so intentional as you keep watching him for feedback cues. Ever his observant girl, you’re constantly paying attention. Aware of his reactions. He needs to keep telling you you’re good or else you’ll assume you’re terrible. 

“Over-achiever,” he whispers through a little smile as you down even more of him. 

Spencer is for the most part a kind and gentle person. For better or worse he is also a man, and he can’t help but fantasize about getting you all teary and drooly as he holds your mouth open and sees how much of his cock he can push down your throat. But again—kind. Gentle. So when you get a little over-zealous, attempting to sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure, he pulls your head back slightly. “That’s far enough, angel. That’s—fuck. God, you’re good at this.” The words are thoughtless, muttered to himself more than you as he watches through a haze while you look up at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, slipping him in and out of your warm mouth, a little faster now as you gain confidence. 

You whine desperately around him, like you’re the one nearing orgasm and not him. The sound of your pleasure as you suck his cock makes him dizzy. His hips buck, pressing him a little deeper into your mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he exhales. “Slow down, baby. I’m—” a louder moan from him like you’ve never heard as he thrusts shallowly turns you on profoundly. He’s so much more vocal than you’d have imagined—sonically and verbally. He breathes out a quick, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” pulling your hair slightly, and you’ve never wanted to touch yourself more but you know you can’t focus on both. Instead you work on making him come—you can worry about you later. He says your name, with an authoritative edge to his tone that makes you throb. “Honey, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna come—”

You swirl your tongue around the top of him like candy and he’s done for. Spencer tries to pull out, which only results in cum both in your mouth and on your face. The orgasm is his strongest in recent memory, and he grunts, watching your lips part and a little squeak escape as he comes all over your face—but you keep stroking him all the while. Once he’s 90% sure it’s over, he falls against the back of the couch, breathing heavily and looking down at you through hazy eyes. Oh, he’s going to feel terrible about this in a few seconds—but right now you look fucking perfect. Your eyes are wide, nervous as his essence drips over your face and down your neck—he groans when you swallow cautiously, averting his eyes to the ceiling lest he do another thing he regrets. 

“Baby, I am so sorry,” he mutters, forcibly clearing the haze of orgasm from his mind and sitting up, fixing his pants and looking around before locating the box of tissues on the side table. “I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look up at him attentively as he wipes himself from your face as gently as he can. 

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t ask you first. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Spencer guides your head around by your chin, wiping your jaw and lips. 

“It’s okay, Spence, I—”

“No, it’s not,” he cuts you off, trying to at least turn his guilt into a learning experience for you. He’s not deluded enough to think someone like you will stay with someone like him forever, because sometimes he does things like that, and he’s reminded that there are certainly people out there more deserving of you. At the very least he can clarify that nobody should ever do what he just did to you. “It’s really not nice to do that to someone.”

“Do you care what I think at all?”

Spencer freezes, finally forcing himself to look you in the eye. Despite the fact that he’s mad at himself, he’s sure it’s coming across as being directed at you. And he knows you’re sensitive, especially about this kind of thing. 

“Of course, I do, baby. I’m sorry. Do you want to come back up here with me and tell me what you’re thinking?” he murmurs, cupping your jaw. Hesitantly you nod. The tissues end up on the table—which he will be thoroughlywiping down later—before you crawl back into his lap from the floor. Spencer helps you settle against him, hoping he hasn’t messed this up irreversibly. He keeps his voice quiet as he rubs your leg. “What were you going to say?”

“I was going to say,” you begin, “that it’s fine, because you’ll remember to ask next time. And because… I kind of liked it. I like when—when you do stuff like that.”

It’s a miracle he can hear you with the way your voice drops into an almost-whisper and you’re hiding against his shirt. 

“Like what?” he murmurs. Although he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle the answer. 

“Like… I don’t know. Like you can do whatever you want to me. Like I’m literally yours.” Each word makes you cringe further, but Spencer has to try hard to maintain a cool facade as he processes this. If he’s going to try and be chivalrous, you’ll have to move away from this topic—this revelation—immediately. Thankfully, you seem eager to move on. “So… how did I do?”

He almost laughs. It seems exceedingly obvious how you did, but as per usual, you require verbal reassurance. 

“That was really good, baby. You did well.”

You blossom. 

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie.”

“Was I the best girl out of all of the other girls?” 

I wasn’t in love with any of the other girls. 

Just barely, he manages to stop himself from saying it, pinwheeling his arms on the edge of a very steep verbal cliff. The realization that he’s been in love with you for a while hits him like a truck. But he can’t tell you that right now. He should wait until you’re less vulnerable.

Fuck. 

He really wants to tell you right now. 

“Actually—don’t answer that,” you decide, while all of this happens in his head in less than a few seconds. “I want to go back to pretending I’m the only girl you’ve ever seen in your life.”

“You’re the only one that matters,” he offers, relieved to express at least some portion of the much bigger truth. Then he frowns. “Not that the other women I’ve met don’t lead important lives. I actually know a lot of incredibly influential and intelligent people who are women. I have deep respect for all of them. Am I helping or making it worse?” he rambles. You giggle. He has his answer. “What about you? How do you feel?” he asks after a moment, tenderly, lowly, stroking your hair as you lean against his chest. 

It takes you a moment to deliberate, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 

“I feel good. I, um… liked it a lot more than I would have thought.”

“Well, that’s good. Much better than if you had hated every second of it.”

You hum in agreement, and he waits for you to say whatever you’re holding back. It comes sooner than he’d have anticipated. 

“I feel bad about the times before. How did you just… go to sleep after? Were you not, like—insanely turned on? Not that I’m, like, irresistibly sexy, or whatever—you know what I mean.”

Spencer smiles because he knows you can’t see him. 

“I wasn’t doing it to pressure you into feeling obligated to reciprocate, I guess. My line of reasoning was that it would be less intimidating if I didn’t even present it as an option until you wanted to try.”

“Oh.”

Spencer thinks he sees where this is going. 

“Why?” he asks, leaning back and encouraging you to look at him. “Are you insanely turned on?”

“Wh—that’s—I didn’t say that!”

Spencer can feel how warm your cheeks are as he presses his lips to the side of your face. 

“You can tell me if you are,” he murmurs, all smiley as he moves to kiss your lips. “If you want something, you need to ask for it. I’m not a mind reader.”

“Yes you are,” you grumble. “That’s literally what behavioral analysis is.”

Not quite true, but surprisingly, he doesn’t feel the need to explain to you the semantics of what he does for work right now. 

“What got you all excited?”

“You know what,” you mumble, trying to look away again. Spencer doesn’t allow it this time, gently grabbing your jaw. 

“Yes, I do. But I want you to tell me. If you want me to make you feel good, this is how you’re going to convince me that you deserve it.”

You whine wordlessly, looking at him with those big, lust-glazed eyes.

“You wanted me to teach you how to use your words, right? This is it. I’m giving you an opportunity. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. Maybe we can take a nap, like you said earlier.”

“No! I liked—um, I liked all of it. I didn’t know if I would, because I was really nervous. But when I first—you know—and you got all quiet… it was like you couldn’t even talk for a minute. I was kind of proud of that. Because normally nobody can ever get you to stop talking.” Spencer narrows his eyes incredulously, a small smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t interrupt—not when it seems you’re finally starting to get more confident in your words. “And I really liked the noises you made. I think that was my favorite part. I liked when you pulled my hair back, and how you spoke to me. And when… when you got me messy and I had to swallow it. I really liked how it felt because I couldn’t think of anything else, just making you feel good. I really wanted to… make you proud, I guess. Is that weird?”

Spencer shakes his head no, a fond smile on his face when your eyes meet his again. 

“No. It’s a pretty normal thing to feel when you’re nervous and wanting to impress someone you care about. And I would have been proud no matter what, for the record. You were being very brave.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, watching him expectantly. Spencer should have known you’re too needy to truly absorb anything he says to you right now. Which is actually pretty cute. Everything you do is endearing to him. 

“Stand up.”

You frown. 

“But—”

“Just stand up,” he demands calmly, preferring to think of himself as firm and not bossy. 

You do, looking rather annoyed and confused as you plant yourself in front of him. 

“Why?”

“You are so full of questions.” His hands slip up the side of your legs, under your skirt, and hook in the waistband of your underwear. Spencer looks up at you meaningfully and you nod, swallowing. 

As he pulls down, Spencer can literally feel the resistance of the fabric clinging to your soaked core. Under his touch the skin of your thighs is warm and soft. He wants to feel it on either side of his face, he wants to hear you whine as his stubble rubs against it, he wants to feel it clamp around his wrist, he wants it between his teeth and he definitely wants it pressing against his hips as he—

But no. 

There will be time for all of those things—especially the last one—later. For now, he’ll reach between your legs just to see—

“Oh, my god,” Spencer half-chuckles, half-groans, upon feeling how wet you truly are for him. He drags his knuckles from your dripping entrance up over your clit, pinching very lightly and earning a squeak from you which he ignores. “You really did like having your mouth full of me, huh?”

“I told you,” you breathe, visibly relaxing some as he continues to play with you for a moment. Then he pulls his hand away again, patting his thigh. 

“Sit.”

“You want me to…”

“Yes,” he says, simply. 

“But is it not going to… am I not going to mess up your pants?”

“You are even more neurotic about messiness than I am. I can wash them, honey. Come here.”

Spencer guides your hips over his thigh, watching your pretty face twist with uncertainty as you fully settle on him. Fuck, he can feel your warmth through the fabric instantly. Already he’s getting hard again. 

“What am I supposed to do?” you whisper, bunching his shirt in your fists. Spencer slides your skirt up higher, revealing the way you’re nestled against his thigh. He spreads you a little further apart, exposing more of your clit to the material underneath you. Immediately you press against him—he watches the delicate flesh rubbing gingerly against him and  his grip tightens ever so slightly. 

“All you have to do is rock back and forth. It’s easy.”

Already you’re starting to do it—but he guesses it’s like earlier where you don’t even realize it’s happening. 

“But… I wanted your mouth,” you admit, quietly, slinging your arms around his neck and burying your face there. 

“Do this for me first. Just get yourself off like this one time and then you can have my mouth. You said you wanted to help me feel better because I’m tired today, right?

“Yes,” you mumble, squirming over him. 

“Well, there are a lot of days when I get back home and I’m tired. I’m gonna need you to be able to get on top of me, just like this, and make me feel better. And I know you don’t know what it feels like to have something that deep inside of you yet, but it’s gonna be a lot. Even once you know how it feels to have me inside when you’re underneath me. I need you to practice for me right now so you’ll be ready, okay?”

You could come from the words alone. You nod, dazed with need as you roll your hips in a circle, pressing his thigh against your clit. 

“Back and forth, baby,” he murmurs, guiding your hips forward with his hands locked around them. “Back and forth, just like this…”

You moan quietly, shamelessly, eyes fluttering as you look down and watch your clit dragging over the darkening fabric. It’s easier if you isolate your hips, grinding down without moving your legs or upper body at all. 

“It feels really good,” you whisper under your quickening breath. 

“Yeah? Does it?”

“Mhm.”

“Good, angel. You look like you know what you’re doing.”

It’s audible now, quiet and wet and dirty. 

“I don’t,” you breathe. He sucks in a breath of his own, stilling your hips with fingers pressed deep into your flesh. 

“Sit up, baby.” You really wish he would stop making you stop, but you don’t want to keep going in case he needs you to quit—so you rise slowly, thighs trembling as you kneel. Spencer groans at the strings of your arousal momentarily connecting your core to his pants before they snap, getting your inner thighs wet. There’s a dark, very wet patch over his thigh, shining like glass. He thumbs over your slick clit absentmindedly as he looks up at you like you’re a miracle. “You’re fucking soaked. I’ve never seen you like this. Is this all from making me come?”

You nod feverishly, hips grinding against nothing in search of friction. He sits you back down on his leg, allowing you to sloppily find your rhythm again. Spencer bounces his leg lightly and you cry out softly, buckling forward. His arms wrap around you, still pressing you down against his thigh as you rut against it. 

“You’re sweet. Maybe I should have known how much you’d like it when I came all over your pretty face. You really like hearing that you did a good job, huh? I bet you like it even more when I prove it to you.”

You moan a “yeah,” barely processing his words. 

“My good girl even swallowed on her first try. Took it so well. And now look at how you’re taking this. You’re gonna love riding, baby. Just going to be another thing you’re good at as soon as you try it.”

“Spencer,” you gasp, overwhelmed by the praise. He’s bouncing his leg at regular intervals and everything is so sensitive.

“I know it’s harder to finish this way, but just one time, remember? And then you can have my tongue for as long as you want. You are my only plan for the day. Just give me one like this.”

But it’s not really harder to finish this way. Then again, you’re so turned on you could probably finish if a breeze hit you just right. Regardless, the thought of him going down on you again pushes you even closer to the edge.

You don’t know how much time goes by like that, you rubbing against him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, him pressing up into you until the pressure is so taut it snaps. There’s no time to warn him, but you suppose you don’t really need to. You writhe against him, caught between wanting to keep going and not being able to take more stimulation. He lifts you up just slightly, trying to separate you from his leg. You exhale deeply as your body relaxes, already close to dozing off against his chest.

“We can’t have you tapping out just yet. I still have to fulfill my end of the deal.”

In the end, he fulfills it three times over, and you end up showing your appreciation in kind one more time—much slower and more comfortably in his bed. He gives you plenty of time to learn what he likes, taking your teasing and coquettish explorations like a champ and never so much as tightening his grip in your hair. Turns out, you don't exactly spend the day doing nothing.

And you do end up taking that nap after all. Just... much, much later. And with less clothing on.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

[aemonds-sapphire]

Persuasion

Summary: Aemond protects those he cares about ruthlessly. You are no exception. So he will have the truth, or someone’s head. Maybe both.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Overprotective Aemond. Edging. Orgasm denial. Oral sex. Breeding kink (implied)

Word count: 2k

“Do not tell Prince Aemond.”

“Do not worry, my lady. My lips are sealed,” Grand Maester Mellos bowed lightly, gathering his ointments and bandages.

“Do not tell Prince Aemond what?”

By the door frame stood Prince Aemond Targaryen, arms crossed, and a dangerously calm look on his face.

Maester Mellos knew better, and Aemond’s seemingly composed demeanor was not to be trifled with.

The old man froze in place, glaring at the young prince as if he’d suddenly grown a third arm.

Clearing his throat, he greeted with a bow. “Prince Aemond… welcome back.”

He turned his eye to you. “I’m waiting.”

You huffed in annoyance, knowing far too well that he would turn something trivial into an unnecessary ordeal.

Because as far as Aemond Targaryen was concerned, your safety was paramount, and he would not have it any other way.

“Thank you, Maester Mellos,” you smiled warmly, trying to ease his nerves.

He merely hurried to make his way out, but Aemond barred the door, eyeing the man in front of him with a deadly stare.

“Aemond,” you called out, shifting to sit on your bed.

The Targaryen prince clicked his tongue, eventually stepping to the side. “Hmm.”

The poor old man was now visibly shaking, and nearly made a run for it once the pathway was made clear.

“That was uncalled for,” you half-scolded.

The door shut behind him, and he came to take a sit by your side, his face twisted into a serious expression. “What do you not want me to know, then.”

But before you could reply, his eye landed on your hands and you could swear you saw a hint of rage crossing his face.

“Who did this to you?” Poison coated his low voice, sending shivers across your spine.

He took your bruised hands in his, closely inspecting the damage to your knuckles.

It looked far worse than it felt. “I was sparring with Ser Criston. Just for fun,” you revealed, meeting his eye. “It was nothing much. This will heal soon.”

“He did this to you?” he sounded uncharacteristically… calm.

“No.”

Aemond’s tender fingers wrapped around your wrists, anger slipping through the cracks. “Then who?”

It would be much easier to give into the pressure, but you knew fully well that if you were to reveal who had been on the receiving hand of your fist, he’d simply storm out, not caring that the short amount of time you had to spend with with would be ruined.

“Let's forget about this for tonight,” you said, giving his hands a gentle squeeze. “I've missed you so much.”

Aemond rose to his feet, arching an eyebrow. “Should I go ask Maester Mellos, then? I’m sure he’d be much willing to talk.”

Rolling your eyes, you held him in place by tugging at his leather coat.

“Leave the poor man alone and fuck me instead.”

You pulled him towards you by his pants, slightly wincing as pain shot through your bruised hand.

“Tell me who it was.”

Deciding to ignore him, you parted you legs to accommodate him, resting your chin on his stomach. “Prince Aemond… I need you,” you pouted.

The hold you had on the young prince was such that had Queen Alicent fear that it might break her beloved son.

And nothing pleased you more than knowing you could bend him to your will with just the right amount of persuasion.

It didn't take long before he started panting lightly as you began caressing his crotch through the fabric, enjoying your touch and how you so skillfully and rapidly had his cock harden.

His eye fluttered shut, and he removed each layer of clothing from his body, until he got to his pants.

“Do not stare at me like that. I might lose it,” he groaned, bringing his thumb to caress your lips.

Your walls reflexively clenched around nothing, and you felt your clit swell in anticipation.

His toned torso gleamed of a faint mix of warm colours that emanated from the candles spread around you, and you couldn’t help to place the softest kiss on the think hair of silver that spread below his navel.

Aemond undid his pants to ease the tension on his cock before tossing the garment aside.

“Will you not tell me?” he asked, slowly dropping to his knees as your eyes were fixed on his thick and leaking cock.

With both hands on each thigh, he further spread you apart, dragging the fabric of your chemise up your legs, revealing your most intimate parts to his hungry gaze.

You knew what came next, and readied yourself by leaning back, supporting your weight with your arms.

Aemond pressed soft kisses up your inner thigh until he reached your folds.

He was staring intensely at you. “Last chance to tell me, my lady.”

You could feel his breath on you. “What does that mean…”

“Who hurt you?”

Aegon had been the one to meet your fist after he decided it would be smart to badmouth his brother in front of you. Not even Ser Criston Cole moved to defend the future king. He had deserved it.

But the last thing on your mind was Aegon and his ridiculous antics.

Aemond did not answer your question, as he pressed a kiss to your folds.

“How is it so swollen already?” he growled, parting your folds to reveal your throbbing clit. “Do you like me on my knees that much?”

He had such a way with words that you reckoned you might be pushed over the edge from the sound of his voice and lewd words.

You bucked your hips into him as you felt his tongue prodding at your entrance for a brief moment before he dragged it to lick your clit.

The sight of having the young prince hungrily eating you was enough to ignite the coil in your lower abdomen.

His tongue slipped inside you, as his nose was pressed against the sensitive bud, teasing it with each slurp.

“Right there… Gods…” you threw your head back in sheer pleasure.

The pressure on your lower half was such that you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

“Aemond…”

Just as you we were about to plunge into blinding bliss, you felt him draw away from you. The immediate loss of touch earning a strangled cry from you, your clit demanding attention again.

At first, you thought it was merely his intent do shift positions, so he could be buried deep within you and having your walls contract around him from your release.

However, by the time he was on top of you, dragging the thing underside of his cock along your folds, yet refusing to enter you, that’s when you realised something was off.

“Please… please…” you nearly yelled, wrapping your legs around his waist to increase the friction.

But Aemond paid no mind to your pleas, and kept rolling his hips while sucking gently on your neck.

The moment he heard your gasps getting louder and breathier, he halted, kissing away the tears that had started to flow from the overstimulation.

He lifted his hips as to avoid his cock from touching you at all, and you felt the urge to smack him.

“What are you doing,” you cried out, vision blurry and chest heaving rapidly.

He pressed his lips to your cheek in such adoration, that your heart skipped a beat.

“Do not underestimate my feelings for you,” whispered in a warning tone. “I would start a war for you.”

Others might brush that aside as an overstatement, but Aemond Targaryen did not utter empty threats.

That revelation sent you pushing your hips to his, urging him to have his cock on you once more.

Suddenly, his lips twisted into a mischievous smile, as he suddenly pinned your arms above your face.

You eyes widened in utter shock. “Aemond….”

“It seems we are in a bit of a predicament, lady wife,” he purred, lips nearly touching yours. “You seek release, but I shall not give it to you until you tell me who hurt you.”

At this, you tried to wriggle away from his grip. “Oh… fuck you!”

“I want that, too,” he said teasingly. “But first, you need to tell me a name.”

He chuckled at the evident agony in your eyes stilling your hips with other hand.

“And you will not be able to have your release by yourself without your hands,” he said, giving your wrists a squeeze. “Your choice.”

Your clit throbbed desperately in between your folds, craving his touch, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek at the sight of his cock drippings strings of precum onto your abdomen.

He was just as desperate to have you, and you were perplexed that he had such self control.

Seeing that you refused to cooperate, he lowered himself into you, his cock pressed down on your clit as your folds enveloped it.

“Gods… just move…” you growled in despair, tugging at your hands in an attempt to break free from his grip.

Surprisingly, he did as you asked, rolling his hips slowly. You tried to mimic the motion just so you could get to your point of no return.

But Aemond knew your body too well. He knew exactly what made you tick, and how your body would respond.

He stopped moving at once, heaving a frantic wail from you as your release got put on hold once more.

“Aegon! I threw a punch at Aegon,” you blurted out in between sobs as your sensitive clit throbbed against his cock. “He was uttering nonsense about you and—”

“You punched my brother?”

You opened your eyes to see surprised on his face, with a hint of amusement. He then released the grip on your wrists and brought one of your hands closer to his face, rubbing your sore knuckles with his thumb.

“That’s my girl,” he laughed, planting a kiss on each knuckle. “You should have told me right away.”

You rolled your eyes. “And you would have gone after him. I want you here… with—”

He immediately cut you off with a burning kiss, and just as quickly, he angled his hips to bury himself inside you.

The overstimulation and denied releases had left your body so sensitive that it was as if everything stung and you had to bite your lip hard to muffle your cries.

He ground mercilessly into you, breaking the kiss and removing the eyepatch.

“Look at me.”

You were met with the sapphire in place of his left eye, and knew that he was close the moment his arms faltered, and he nearly collapsed on top of you, speeding up and gripping your hips as he pumped in a final broken rhythm.

Taking your face in your hands, you had your lips caress the long scar, knowing fully well he had grown used to you showing him how much you adore every single inch of him.

“So tight…” he groaned.

You then watched in marvel as his mouth fell open in a quick hiss as he stilled inside you, filling you to the brim.

Feeling his cock twitching inside you violently as he spilled his cum inside, drove you over the edge until your vision blurred in waves of colours, tearing the room with a sharp cry of pleasure.

Aemond managed to regain some composure as he lifted your lower half and placed a pillow underneath your backside.

“Stay like this for a while,” he said, slowly sliding out of you.

Your breathing came out in erratic pants and you felt him gently pushing inside some of the cum that had spilled with his fingers.

At this pace, it would not be long before your belly would start to swell with his child.

He caressed your face with his hand, as he brought his lips to press a loving kiss to your sweaty forehead.

“Avy jorrāelan.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but before you could return the gesture, Aemond slid off the bed, rapidly getting dressed.

“Where are you going?” you asked, shifting to your side, a gush of cum spilling from you.

“On my way to behead my dear brother.”

You groaned in exasperation. “Aemond!”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #aemond x you #aemond x reader #hotd smut

[bimb0fy]

all for you; luke castellan

ᵖᵃⁱʳⁱⁿᵍˢ; traitor!luke x aphrodite!daughter!reader;

ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ; swearing, angst, swords.

ˢᵘᵐᵐᵃʳʸ; the quest had failed, they failed yet you alongside luke had to keep camp in control. yet, one day, he decided to take you to the middle of nowhere to tall to you about something, you thought it was a confession, but what it truly was shocked you.

ʷᵒʳᵈᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ; 1078 words

ᵐᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡⁱˢᵗ!! | ⁿᵃᵛⁱᵍᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ!!

-> Luke had been searching for you everywhere. When he found out there happened to be a fight between Ares' kids and Aphrodite's kids, well, he became too nervous.

He searched every nook and crabby for you, finding Clarisse and Maddie, one of your sisters yelling as you stood between the two.

He pushed passed the crowd, finding you whispering, looking up to speak. No one dared to speak over you, or disrespect you, you were the best archer, assumed to be Apollo's daughter when you were unclaimed, yet it wasn't a surprise when your mother claimed you.

You were gorgeous, probably the prettiest in camp. Luke knew Aphrodite favoured you as she certainly blessed you her looks.

"Are you guys insane! A war breaks out and the first thing you do is go at each other's throats! Grow up we shouldn't be killing eachother!" You exclaimed. Clarisse looked at the ground while Maddie turned around to walk away.

You stormed off to your cabin, your fellow siblings running out instantly as Luke entered. "Hey, you okay?"

"Everything is falling apart, I spent ages trying to make everyone get along and then as always our parents ruin fucking everything!" You cried as you hugged your knees. He wrapped his arms around you, you sniffled into him.

"Hey, it's okay, everyone listens to you, I mean you made Clarisse ashamed for being violent." Luke smiled as you laughed. You turned to face him, a tint of pink on your cheeks as he smiled at you. "Meet me at the willow tree, midnight."

You nodded as he left, leaving you alone in the cabin as you had duties to do. You also happened to be head Councillor of cabin 10. The place was a mess so you decided to clean up.

You watched as a few helped you in their free time. You spent the last hour cleaning. Then deciding to practice your archery.

You headed onto the Apollo Cabin, smiling as you found the head of the apollo cabin, walking to the course as you gossiped.

You two expressed your opinion on the war, she said it wasn't in our hands, that no matter what, our parents would force them into their sides.

As if we'd complain.

We all craved their attention, it was why most of us craved glory. You continued to practice, cracking jokes with the Apollo Cabin as you smiled.

Chiron had tried to explain to you that Archery was a Apollo half-blood activity, but after weeks of you disobeying, he gave up.

He knew that you wouldn't stop if you wanted to continue and he couldn't say no to you, no one could.

You waited till midnight. You were curious. Was it a confession? Was he simply just wishing to spend time with you? You had to know. When it was time, you grabbed your necklace, it was a gift from Chiron, one that would turn into a bow. A gift from Luke, your bracelet that turns into a sword.

Yet the sword was pink with flowers, one to fit your personality. Yet, the other side of the blade showed a different story. A dark color infected the side with roses dripping blood.

It showed who you were, an angel who wouldn't hesitate to spill blood if she had to.

You walked to find him sitting on the stump of a fallen tree. he was anxious clearly. Maybe having to do with Clarisse being the thief and with him having to talk to you.

"Hey." You called out as he stood up, smiling as he hugged, you.

"Hey, I uhm, you might wanna sit down for this," Luke said as he led you toward the stump. You sat down. Wait, this isn't a confession...?

He took a deep breath as he looked at you. "Clarisse didn't steal the bolt. I did." He confessed as you stood up. You looked at him as he stood up after you. Looking into your eyes, as if pleading for you to hear him out.

"Please, flowers." He held onto your arm as you shoved him off. He grabbed you once more, pulling you closer. "Flower, I, this is all for me and you."

"For me? You betrayed fucking Zeus, for me?" Your accusatory tone was not helping him, he gripped your arm harder, staring deep into your eyes.

"Flowers, listen to me, our parents, they are my enemy." He pleaded as you shoved him off, he yielded his sword, and you turned around as he kicked you down, placing the tip of his blade under your chin to lift you up. "You know it took forever to convince Kronos to spare you, and this is what you do for me in return."

"Your actions will lead to the death of millions!" You couldn't stop the tears from welling in your eyes.

"But you'd be safe my flower." He muttered as he kneeled down to hold you. "All of this is for you. I love you, Flowers."

"Luke, this isn't what you want, it isn't too late." You cried as he wrapped his fingers around your neck as he pinned you to a tree.

You were mortified, his fingers started to have some sort of force against you. He wasn't hurting you, he was trying to convince you to join him. "Flowers, cmon, just imagine how life would be without our parents fucking up everything. I'll protect you, don't worry."

"Luke, please." You begged as he shoved you harder into the tree.

"No, you listen, this is all for you, there isn't a line in both worlds I wouldn't cross for you." He laughed as he leaned in, looking down at you, lips parted as he glanced at yours. "You are everything to me."

You gasped as he leaned in to kiss you, mirroring his movements instantly as he smirked. You placed your hand onto his cheek as he slithered his hands onto your waist. You pulled back to take a breath as he stared at you.

"Please flowers, work with me and no one will get hurt." He whispered into your ears as you turned to face him.

"Do you promise me that?" You mumbled as he nodded, pushing the hair behind your ear.

"I promise flowers." He whispered as he helped you up, he grabbed his sword, making it return to its original form as he held out his hand towards you. "C'mon flowers, let's go get some rest."

#fanfic #x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader

[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

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo series #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #walker scobell #Walker Scobell<3 #Writer #writers on tumblr #x reader #fanfic #x reader fanfiction

[emphistic]

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐄

𝐀/𝐍: royal AUs have my heart

𝐖/𝐂: around 2.8k

“C’mon, princess. Surely you can do a little better than that, right?” Sukuna crossed his arms.

“Maybe if you stopped wiggling and moving around like a worm.” Huffing, you grabbed another arrow from your quiver and, after nocking it to the string, released.

A hiss! sounded through the secluded forest as the arrow whizzed! and flew past, but you only managed to hit the tree bark beside Sukuna’s left ear, and sighed in discouragement.

When your parents arranged this whole ordeal between you both — where every summer either Sukuna would come stay at your castle or you would stay at his estate, it was in hopes that you two would grow closer and eventually wed. It all started when you were a lot younger, maybe a little older than ten years. But all you knew, at that time, was that Sukuna was annoying, he was snobby, and he was rude. He was a boy. A boy you had to spend a whopping three months with every year.

Chasing each other around the castle: playing tag until you both fell into a pile of exhausted limbs and a fit of laughter was bad.

It was bad.

Riding your ponies through the quiet and lush unexplored land, and pointing out especially beautiful birds, flowers, sunsets, was bad.

It was bad.

Sneaking out past curfew onto each other’s balconies and talking till you unintentionally fell asleep with either your head on his shoulder or against his chest was bad.

It was bad.

Archery was something you two only started doing recently, since you both had grown — in age — drastically. And it wasn’t any better than the rest of your previously spent pastimes.

“Uh huh. Did I move just a second ago? No, thought so.”

You rolled your eyes in response. Sukuna approached in a few quick strides, his long legs bringing him over to you, before he flicked your forehead with his index finger.

“Ow! What was that for?” you whined, rubbing the same spot.

“It’s you; you’re the problem, sweetheart. — Not me. You have a terrible aim, let’s face it. But, not all is lost; everyone has to start somewhere.”

“Yeah, right. You know what, Sukuna?” You jabbed a finger into his firm chest, sticking your nose in the air to get a good look at his stupid, stupid face. “I’m not the problem; matter of fact: it’s you. — Dickhead. The only reason you accomplish so many feats, prizes, win so many championships with your little fuckass bow, and are called so great and so proficient is because all your opponents take one look at your hideousness and mistake you for a—for a monster.” You pulled your finger away, for a second, before jabbing it right back into the center of his chest.

Sukuna stared down at you with half-lidded and darkening eyes; his gaze so intense you almost pulled a ‘just kidding!’ and dashed away.

I mean, it couldn’t possibly be too late for that, right?

But you stood your ground. For, you didn’t want to seem like a coward. — That’s exactly what he wanted. And that’s exactly what you didn’t want.

Sukuna leaned down, eye level, and so close to your face that you felt his breath grace your face. It was warm, yet chilled you to the core and sent shivers down your spine.

He gently cupped your cheek with his rough hand, and, bringing his lips to your ear, whispered, “You dare to call me a monster? Oh, pretty girl, I’ll show you how much of a monster I can be.”

You placed both of your palms upon his chest, hoping to keep at least some distance between the two of you. But, it seemed like your efforts were in vain, because the man before you only came impossibly closer, forcing you back farther and farther until your back hit the tree behind, and you knew you had ultimately lost the game.

“S’kuna,” you whimpered, as a piece of bark poked through the fabric of your clothes. “What are you—what are you doing?” Your voice was soft; Sukuna liked that. — A lot. He, actually, relished in the fact he had so much control over you, and you didn’t even know it.

“I’m just, y’know — ” Sukuna uncupped your cheek and let his hand trail down your face, tracing across your jawline, before wandering to the nape of your neck, and up into your hair — which was in a mess, by now. He twisted a strand of your hair between his index finger. “ — being the hideous monster I am.” He grabbed, more like bunched up, a handful of your hair, and pulled. — Hard.

“Fuck!” you winced, attempting to shove the male away, but he didn’t even move a centimeter. Instead, he pushed you back against the tree, and pressed his lips against your ear, again.

“You’re right, I’ll admit. I do win, because — to put it simply — because I’m a monster. Because I’m me. Because I’m Sukuna. And you best believe, darling, I’ll make you remember that name even if it takes you to the grave.” His tone was dark, it was rough, and it was cold. A fire burned inside of him, and there was no question what started it and what would extinguish it.

His hand gripped onto your neck, and you just knew it would bruise a pretty blue.

“You! Sukuna, you’re—you’re hurting me. . .” Your voice trailed off. And your breaths came in gasps, occurring between long intervals.

“Isn’t that what monsters do, hm?” His face came impossibly close to yours, your eyes locking together, before you wavered and you looked elsewhere, desperate to escape his gaze. But, the tip of his finger pulled you right back.

“Ah, ah, ah. Silly girl. Don’t you know, keeping eye contact with whomever you’re speaking to is almost vital?”

“I . . . stop. I’m not—I’m not doing this with you, Sukuna, not again I’m not.”

You finally managed to shove him off — because he allowed you to, but you didn't need to know that — and rushed away, while you still had the chance, through the servants’ corridor, and into the castle.

Like prey escaping from predator.

The clock had rung four times when you entered the kitchen area, in search of something to refresh you. A cooling drink was in your mind, but apparently someone else was also.

As soon as you caught sight of that damned pink-haired idiot, leaning against the long table, you turned around.

“Aww, don't be like that, princess. Come sit on my face and let my tongue say sorry.”

“Like Hell. I don’t let just anyone do that, especially not buffoons like you,” you spat out, like venom, albeit still murmuring that last part. “I can’t even stand looking at your ugly, stupid face.” To be honest, it was quite difficult to keep up a front, as you were still a little shaken up from earlier.

"What a pretty liar you are.” His gaze dropped down to your lips.

“Me? Lying? You’re delirious. Oh well. Must be the wine talking.” You used your head to gesture at the cup sloshing with red liquid in his grasp, before you waved your own hand in a dismissing manner.

Sukuna rolled his eyes, in truth: he wasn’t expecting to meet you here, but, in truth — again: he wasn’t disappointed, at all.

“Is it good? It better be, ‘cause that’s the last time you’ll ever drink something unpoisoned.”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself there, sweetheart. I would drink poison if it meant I could do this after.” He brought the bronze goblet to his lips, and pulled you into him by an arm hooking around your waist, before tipping your chin with his finger and slotting his lips against yours.

You gasped, stunned at his bluntness, but, nevertheless, didn’t protest.

Sukuna’s hands were rough, when they found their rightful place and rested on your hips. But they were even rougher when they worked to pin you down in place, keeping you from squirming.

“Don’t try to run away,” he murmured, placing the goblet back onto the table, without pulling away from you.

“Ahh,” you whimpered, your eyelashes fluttering shut. The bitterness of the wine combined with the burning sensation in your throat was almost overstimulating.

Sukuna took his chance and parted your lips farther, slipping his tongue in.

He was sloppy as he deepened the kiss, eager to finally have his way with the woman he had been dreaming of since God knows how long, and he was, also, seemingly greedy.

After all, Sukuna wasn’t planning on letting you go. Not when he had to wait this long. But, despite this, he would do it all over again, if he had to. He would play the waiting game. He would play, and he would win.

“Admit it. You wanted to keep going earlier. I know you did; I know you do. And I know — that if we hadn’t stopped right then and there, we never would’ve. Admit it.” He dragged out every syllable in that last sentence.

You felt dirty. But fuck, you felt good.

All the same, right?

His grip was searing hot against your skin, and it shocked you right to the core; you felt like melting in his arms.

You panted against his lips, still not having pulled away. “S’kuna,” you slurred, “I—mmph!”

“C’mon. I know you’ve got it in you. Use your big girl words,” he teased, grinning into the kiss. He was not about to make this easy for you, and you knew it. You knew it damn well.

Sukuna seemed to devour you as every second passed by on the clock. “Please, I. . .”

“Hm? Please what, baby?”

Your body was rapidly growing hot all over. The room felt like an oven, and you felt like you were suffocating. Sukuna was overwhelming, more or less. But you wanted more. You needed more.

“I—S’kuna, more! ‘tis not enough,” you whined.

When he pulled away, you felt like crying, your lip jutting out into a pout and trembling. Sukuna thought you looked adorable. But when you realized he was giving you a moment to fix yourself, you did so.

Catching your breath seemed like an impossible feat, but in the end, it didn’t matter anyway.

You looked at the ground beneath your feet, before raising your head, and meeting crimson eyes, which, the more you stared at, seemed like an endless void.

You wrapped your arms around Sukuna’s neck, and, seeking stability on your wobbly legs, pressed yourself closer to him, but only whimpered and bit your lip when your hard nipples rubbed against his chest.

“Ngh—!”

Sukuna stifled a laugh.

He trailed one of his hands — previously resting on your hip — up your torso, and tangled it in your hair. And, upon leaning down, breathed in the scent of your floral shampoo.

“Mmm. Look so pretty. And you taste it, too. Isn’t that right, my little vixen.” He smiled, baring his canines.

Your face heated up, and your cheeks burned severely as you felt a tingling sensation in your stomach.

Sukuna moved his hand to the swell of your ass, doing the same with the other hand, before hoisting you up into his arms, and making you instinctively wrap your legs around his torso, and tighten your arms around his neck, afraid of falling.

You were, in no way, prepared for that, and let out a high pitched squeal before you could even process the fact. And then, to top it all off, Sukuna sat you down onto the kitchen table, unintentionally knocking down the goblet from earlier.

The wine’s maroon-colored liquid spilled onto the wood, and Sukuna knew you were going to reprimand him later on when you found it stained, but that’s not what was important right now.

Like prey escaping from predator, you had your chances, and you still lost.

Yet, you wanted more, and Sukuna was going to give you everything.

And everything, he gave.

“Yeah, I’m done waiting. Sorry, baby. Foreplay’s over. Time to have some real fun.”

You would be lying if you said you didn't like the way he was a little mean. The sight of occasional flashes of his sharp canines whenever he laughed in your face or gave unhinged grins always made up for it.

He wasn’t afraid of hurting you, he knew he would never do such a thing, and filled you with strong, rough thrusts. — That made you see stars.

The unfamiliar ecstasy and pleasure of having him deep inside of your walls made you gasp, elicit breathy moans, and claw at his shoulders. Surely drawing blood.

“S’kuna—mmph! I—ngh!” You tightened your legs around his waist, as Sukuna pulled back before fucking into you once more.

He wanted to ruin you. He wanted to see you go completely dumb. He wanted to see you come undone on his cock.

You entreated Sukuna multiple times, scratching at his broad back with your nails, but all your requests came out incoherent.

“Fuck,” he moaned; he felt like he was in heaven with the way you whimpered and whined and screamed his name. “Ah, shit. What—what is it, baby? Hahh, use your words. Just like how I taught you.”

“S-someone’s going to ah, come in at any second—”

“Bet you’d like that, huh? You want some nobody to see how much of a slut you are. You wouldn’t mind, don’t lie.”

You face flushed uncontrollably at his filthy words.

“Ah, so you do like that. I can feel you clench around me, dirty girl.” He wore a shit-eating grin on his face.

You wanted to slap that cocky smirk off his face, but at the same time, it was all too much; you couldn’t stifle your mewls, whimpering his name in embarrassment.

One of his large hands pressed down on your lower stomach, showing the outline of his cock, making you squirm. You repeated his name wildly, like a prayer, but with neither a proper intention nor a consciousness of what you were doing.

“Ngh—”

By this moment, you were completely gone. Your head was wiped white, nothing left. Only Sukuna. And your mouth was only slipping out mindless cries.

You peaked an eye open when you heard Sukuna grunt, and saw, through blinking back your tears, his eyes darkening. You quickly realized —

He was holding back.

You were fucked. Literally and figuratively.

He picked up the pace drastically, and you bit your lip to try and contain as much of the sinful noises as you could. The strong thrusts he’d previously been giving you were not even close to how hard he went on you now.

You liked his mouth on you earlier, and the way he handled you with such ease, carelessly running his hands down your body, but you had to admit, this was even better.

He leaned down and bit your neck — with so much might you almost cried out from the mix of pain and pleasure — and groaned, when he breathed in your smell.

You were a living, breathing, talking aphrodisiac to him. A drug. Fuel for the monster inside of him. And wind to the fire that burned unwaveringly.

He was so thick, so long; you whimpered even at a mere twitch of his cock stuffed deep inside of you.

“Sukuna . . . I—mmph—please, I can’t.”

“Then don’t.” His words were firm, and you came almost immediately with a last, final, hard thrust.

The feeling of you running your nails up and down his arms, and pushing yourself even closer to his body, made him lose it as he came just moments after you.

“Fuck.”

You thought he bark-laughed because he noticed the way you couldn’t even sit up straight on the kitchen table, and had to lean on his chest to be even semi-stable. But really, he was actually laughing because he noticed two maids peeking into the kitchen to start preparing dinner — wary of the previous sounds reverberating through the walls and kitchen corridor, but almost fainted at the sight of you both. One the women had to fan herself after witnessing such a scandalous sight.

This was the talk of the servants for weeks to come.

It was all they gossiped, murmured, and whispered about. And it didn’t help that Sukuna was now practically attached to your hip, always eating his meals beside you — instead of in his rightful spot at the table, always sneaking into your bathing quarters after your maids left you alone, he was always with you. In one way, or another.

Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside @kelerina-ballerina @emikokomura @xiraxdl

A/N: if you're on my taglist and prefer not to be tagged in smut, lmk

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna smut

[itsb3a2]

Jealous Boy

Luke castellan x y/n

summary: Luke gets jealous over seeing y/n flirting with another guy, or was he flirting with her?

TW: creepy boy who can't take a hint, jealous luke(but not really)

Y/n had always been a skilled archer, thanks to her training at Camp Half-Blood. She loved spending her free time in the archery range, perfecting her aim and technique. Today was no different, as she stood in front of her target, bow in hand, ready to release her arrow.

As she focused on her target, she suddenly felt a presence behind her. She turned around to see a boy from her cabin, a known flirt, smirking at her.

"Hey there, beautiful. Mind if I join you?" he asked, leaning against one of the targets.

Y/n felt uncomfortable with his sudden presence and flirty demeanor. She didn't want any distractions while practicing, especially not from someone like him.

"Actually, I was just about to finish up. Maybe another time," she replied, trying to politely decline his offer.

But the boy didn't seem to take the hint. He continued to flirt and make suggestive comments, making Y/n even more uncomfortable.

'Are you doing anything this friday?” the boy asked

‘Oh sorry I ha-” Y/n’s voice was cut off by none other than her bf luke.

"Hey babe, who's this?" a deep voice said from behind her.

Y/n turned to see Luke Castellan, her boyfriend and fellow demigod, standing there with a smirk on his face. She couldn't help but blush at the sight of him. He always had a way of making her feel safe and loved.

The boy from her cabin immediately backed off, realizing that Y/n was not alone.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know you two were dating," he said, quickly making his exit.

Luke chuckled as he watched the boy leave. He then turned to Y/n and pulled her closer to him.

"Looks like I have to keep a closer eye on you, my love," he teased, kissing her on the cheek.

Y/n couldn't help but smile at his possessiveness. It was one of the things she loved about him.

‘My knight in shining armour" she said, grateful for his timing.

Luke wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Anytime,I couldn't let anyone make my girl feel uncomfortable," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity.

Y/n looked up at him and couldn't help but admire his handsome features. His dark hair, piercing brown eyes, and charming smile never failed to make her heart skip a beat.

"I'm lucky to have you," she said, leaning in for a kiss.

Their lips met in a sweet and passionate kiss, causing sparks to fly between them. Y/n felt like she was on cloud nine whenever she was with Luke. He made her feel loved and cherished, something she had never experienced before.

As they pulled away, Luke rested his forehead against hers, gazing into her eyes.

"I'm the lucky one, Y/n. I never thought I could find someone like you in this crazy demigod world," he said, his voice filled with emotion.

Y/n couldn't believe how fortunate she was to be dating Luke. Not only was he handsome and charming, but he was also kind, brave, and fiercely loyal. He had her heart since the first time she met him.

'God, Luke, I love you.' Y/n stated before kissing Luke until she was out of breath.

"I love you too, baby," Luke said as he kissed her.

Y/n couldn't help but be grateful for the unexpected turn of events as they walked out of the archery range hand in hand. She had gone to practise her archery skills and was instead reminded of Luke's love and care for her.

From that day on, Y/n and Luke's relationship only grew stronger. They continued to train and fight alongside each other, always having each other's back. And whenever Y/n needed a reminder of how much she was loved, all she had to do was look at Luke's piercing brown eyes, and she knew she had found her forever.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #i love him

[berryhobii]

Late For Work (jjk x reader)

Pairing: Husband!Jeon Jungkook x black!female!reader

Word Count: 2,223

Warnings: established relationship(they’re married!), fluff, domestic vibes, Jungkook’s a house husband, tattooed!Jungkook, smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), morning sex, somnophilia I guess? He wakes reader up with head. Kitchen sex, oral(m and f receiving), deepthroating, throat fucking, lots of spit, reader’s a whiny and needy sl*t, Jungkook is obsessed with reader(in a sweet way), begging, overstimulation, interrupting phone cliche

A/N: Hi! I’m back! I know I said this would be a Gamer!Jungkook but I kind of went off script a little, heh. There will definitely be a part 2 of this though and there will be actual Gamer JK in that. I didn’t really describe the reader in this so imagine them as you like. Criticism is always welcomed and I hope you enjoy!

~

When you woke up, it was to him between your legs, slurping up all of your wetness and flicking his tongue against your swollen clit. He managed to wrench 3 orgasms out of you before your alarm rang, that stupid job calling for your attention. Thank goodness you were close to going on vacation. After that, you could spend some much needed quality time with your husband.

He helped you to the bathroom, your legs feeling weak from your orgasms that were still vibrating through your body. Once you showered, did your skincare, and refreshed your hair, you found him in the kitchen, back turned to you as he sliced something on a cutting board.

Bringing your bottom lip between your teeth, your hungry eyes greedily took in the expanse of his bare, muscled back. Each movement caused his muscles to flex, the dark and brightly colored tattoos that stretched across his back shifting. He had recently finished the healing process for his brand new back tattoos—a large dragon spread across his shoulder blades, multiple flowers of different colors wrapped around his ribs, and your favorites were the abundance of clouds with butterflies resting on them. He had lots of little others like that cute smiley face on the back of his neck and that Minnie mouse bow on the back of his right arm he got on a dare after losing to Taehyung. You remember when he came home with it. You had laughed for close to 10 minutes, much to Jungkook’s chargin, his pout never leaving until he got annoyed and bent you over the couch. You still giggled but his cock taught you manners.

He heard you place your purse down on the kitchen island, turning his head to look at you.

“Breakfast is almost ready.”

You came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning in to inhale his shampoo. Your cheek rubbed against his soft skin, humming when he relaxed in your embrace.

“Morning head and breakfast? Are you married?”

He chuckled, reaching for another strawberry to slice. “I am. Very happily for 3 years. They’re the love of my life.”

“Sounds like a very lucky person.”

While you couldn’t see his face, you knew he was smiling extra big.

“Eh. They hog all the blankets and can’t sleep unless it’s freezing cold but I guess they’re lucky to have me.”

You rolled your eyes, biting his shoulder blade. He was such a dork.

“They bite me a lot too. I wonder if I’m tasty.”

Your hands began to wander, scratching down his chest and abs until you reached the band of his low sweats. You dipped into the article of clothing, a noise of surprise vibrating your throat when you found he wasn’t wearing underwear.

Your hand grabbed at his half hard cock, beginning to pump him slowly. He inhaled a sharp breath, dropping the knife he held in the sink. Safety first and all that.

His hands gripped at the counter, head dipping low as you stroked him to hardness. When his sweats began to get uncomfortable, he moaned.

“Baby….”

You hummed, pulling away from him to let him turn around. Now that he was facing you, you could appreciate him fully—from his broad chest to his smooth expanse of his defined stomach. Your eyes trailed up to meet his, dark irises staring at you. His gaze made you feel warm all over, those earlier orgasms feeling far away. You wanted more.

Dropping to your knees before him, you grabbed at his sweats before pulling them down. His cock sprang up, the tip leaking precum. You licked your lips, gaze greedy and your throat itching to have him nestled in it.

You gripped him once again, feeling him throb in your hold. Locking eyes with him, you leaned forward to lick at his tip.

“You’re delicious.”

Your stare never broke as you licked him from base to tip. Eye contact was the quickest way to get him to cum. You too. It just made your sex feel more intimate and connected. It also fueled his ego a little to watch your sultry eyes stare up at him as he was down your throat.

After you had slicked him up enough, your hand pumped at him as your mouth sucked at his balls—his most sensitive spot. He tossed his head back, leaning against the counter, a loud moan coming from him.

Gathering saliva in your mouth, you bubbled spit all over his balls. He loved it wet and messy, something you learned after your first few times together. He was always a gentleman during your first times but that quickly changed when you started getting more and more comfortable with him. Your pussy would get so wet and sticky that he couldn’t hold back.

Coming back to his cock, you kissed along his shaft, trailing spit with you, cheeks and chin wet. You took him into your mouth, sucking him halfway in, your hand pumping what you hadn’t gotten to…..yet.

Your tongue licked all around him, cheeks hollowing as you sucked him. His hand grabbed at your hand, hips bucking into your throat. You removed your hand from his cock, instead gripping his thighs, giving him the okay to go hard.

Using his other hand to grab the back of your neck, he began moving his hips in and out of your mouth. You relaxed your throat, allowing him to slip in and out with ease.

“You like that cock in your throat, baby?” His raspy voice talked down at you. You moaned around his cock because fuck yes you did. You could feel your panties sticking to you, the fabric probably ruined beyond rescue.

He pushed your head all the way down, holding you there, nose buried in the hair at the base of his cock. Tears sprang in your eyes, throat constricting around him. Your nails dug into his thighs, leaving red marks in your wake.

When you began to sputter and gag on him, he let you go. You inhaled a deep breath, coughing and trying to pull air back into your lungs. Your bleary eyes looked back up at him, your hand coming to pump at his slick cock again. Sweat dripped down his chest and stuck his hair to his forehead. He looked good enough to eat.

“Give me more, baby.” Tongue hanging out of your mouth, you were ready to take everything he gave you.

Fuck.

A few more pumps of your hand and harsh suck to his tip and he was cumming in your mouth, filling your cheeks. He shivered as his orgasm racked him, mouth dropping open in a silent moan.

You didn’t immediately swallow, letting him regain his breath. You patiently sat back on your heels, bright eyes staring up at him.

His hand reached out to grab your chin, tilting your head up. “Open.”

You obliged, dropping your jaw to show him his release in your mouth. He felt his cock jump at the sight. He couldn’t get enough of you.

“Swallow.”

And you did, opening your mouth again to show him you had obeyed.

He helped you up from the ground, grabbing under your thighs to lift you and place you on the kitchen island. His lips hungrily moved against yours, his hands pushing your pencil skirt up until he could access your thong. His warm hands grabbed both sides of the thin string, giving it one harsh pull and it snapped. He worked at the buttons of your blouse next, careful not to pop any of them in his haste but truthfully, he could care less. Once it was open, he pulled down the cups of your bra, letting your breasts spill out.

You moaned as his hands pinched at your nipples, little sparks going up your back. He pulled away from your mouth, a whine coming from you but it was quickly covered when his mouth sucked in your left nipple. Your hands buried in his hair, humming as he worked both of your nipples to stiff peaks. He bit at the skin of your breasts, further darkening the hickies he placed there just last night. Once he was satisfied with his work, he pulled away to kiss you again.

“Fuck me, baby. Please. I can’t wait anymore.” You were starting to grow more and more desperate. Those orgasms from earlier just weren’t enough. You needed his cock right now.

He smirked at your whiny tone. His cock was hard again, throbbing to be nestled in your warm and tight walls but he had more pressing matters to tend to.

Pecking your lips once more, he bent down slightly until he was level with your pussy. His hands gripped your thighs, pushing them apart to get more access to your dripping heat. You barely had time to balance yourself on your hands before he was diving in, eating you out like a man starved. His tongue licked and sucked at your clit, abusing the swollen bud until your legs were shaking.

His eyes looked at you from between your legs and goodness were you a sight to see. The way your mouth dropped open, your breasts all marked up, and your watery eyes threatening to spill. He could eat you out for hours, not even stopping when you were crying and begging for him to let you rest.

You didn’t even realize how desperate and close you were until that band was snapping and you were cumming all over his face. One of your hands buried in hair, pulling him closer as your head fell back. Your toes dug into his shoulders, almost pushing him away but he remained firm, delivering licks to your clit.

Once you were shaking in overstimulation, he pulled away, licking his lips of your sweet juices.

He stood back to his full height, pulling you closer until your hips hung off the edge of the counter. You felt his cock rub against your sensitive pussy, flinching away a little at the almost painful feeling. But you were so desperate for him that you didn’t care. You just wanted his cock inside you. Now.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him to you again. Tears fell down your cheeks, bottom lip wobbling. “P-please….no more teasing…”

He could hold himself back anymore either. He pecked your temple, hands digging into the nest of your thighs. “Okay, princess.”

The head of his cock rubbed against your slick folds, bumping your clit a few times making you shiver.

Just as he was about to push in, the loud blaring of your phone broke you apart. Realization struck you, your eyes widening.

“Oh shit! My meeting! I’m late!” You hastily reached for your purse, digging in it until you found your phone. You quickly answered it, apologies falling from your lips.

After you hung up, Jungkook helped you from the island, your legs buckling but he held you up.

You sighed, leaning against his sweaty chest. “Ugh, darn you and your magnetic dick. Why did you distract me?”

He snorted, rolling his eyes. “You stuck your hand down my pants. You started this.”

You growled, biting his pec lightly. “You woke me up. You started this.”

He harshly gripped both of your ass cheeks in his hands. “Do you want me to finish it?” His suggestive tone matched his eyes, his stare sending shocks straight to your pussy. Was that meeting really important? You could just quit your job and live your days with Jungkook’s cock down your throat. You’d clock in faithfully every day.

You whined, pushing him away. “I’m already late. Stop tempting me.”

He gave you that cheeky smile again but let you go, making sure to deliver a slap to your ass as you walked away.

Once you had brushed your teeth again and fixed your makeup and hair, you rushed to the door. Jungkook was already waiting for you with a bagel and your lunch bag. Your heart warmed at the sight of him. He took such good care of you. An idea of a surprise date swirled in your head.

You smiled when your eyes met.

“Here. I packed your lunch and since breakfast got cold, I made you a bagel. Eat the whole thing.”

You walked into his arms, hugging him tightly, his warmth sinking into your skin. “I love you.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I love you more.”

After embracing for a moment longer, you reluctantly pulled away, not wanting to leave him but you knew you had to work.

He kissed away your pout. “I’ll be here when you come back. I promise.”

You sighed but nodded, expecting a final kiss before you finally walked out of the door but instead, his hand grabbed your throat to pull you closer. You gasped at the sudden movement, eyes widening as they locked with his. His smile had dropped, only a mischievous smirk left in its wake.

“And when you come back, I’ll fuck you on every surface in this apartment.”

Your thighs rubbed against each other, excitement bubbling in the pit of your stomach. You were about to say something but you were silenced when he shoved the bagel in your mouth

“Have a good day at work.”

#bts #bts smut #bts fic #jungkook smut #bts imagines #bts x black reader #namjoon smut #jimin smut #hoseok smut #seokjin smut #taehyung smut #yoongi smut

[oh-snapperss]

creature comfort

“We won’t win today,” Cleo says, and Etho knows she’s right. Knows their time has been running out since the first secret was whispered to them in voices all too familiar, has known that this day was coming, has known that all this time, it’s not been a question of if–it’s been a question of when. 

They’re going to die today. Distantly, Etho wonders if the domesticity they’ve worked for will die with them, or if it will follow them back home. 

Will his home ever be a physical place again? Home is where the hearth is, where the warmth is, where the world is shut out and it’s just the three of them. 

Home is where Cleo is. 

“That’s alright,” Etho smiles instead of voicing all of that, wishing, of all things, that he didn’t still have that awful cough that Cleo had insisted he rest over for a few days. “We’ll be alright.” 

They’ll be dead–and what are the dead, if not alright? The dead don’t have coughs, or pain, or fear. They’re just dead. Etho thinks he might not mind it so much, this time. He’s finally learned to spend his time wisely, and he’s built a home no flaming arrow could ever take down. 

Just by the cow pen, there’s a stupid little porch Etho had built a while back. They’re nowhere near it now, but every night he and Cleo had watched the sunset, drank a final cup of tea, and turned in to sleep over gossip and giggles only they could draw from each other this time ‘round. Before, Bdubs had made him laugh like that–now, Etho wonders how long before there’s a sword at his throat. 

Even so, while Cleo laughs and watches him set Scar’s porch on fire, Etho hopes he might have the privilege of watching the sunset from the porch one last time. He’d survive the day, if only for another sunset with Cleo. 

BANG. 

Tango’s gone–Etho knows it in his heart. Surely he should feel an ache for him, should ask how he went. Instead, it’s easy to accept it. 

The wardens are fun. That’s all they are, now. Before, they had been terrors, then the answer to a desperate prayer he and Grian had made. The carnage of those terrifying beasts feel muted compared to before, but with the wind flying through his hair, the elated cries of Cleo in front of him, Etho can’t care. Not this time. They lead two clear to the middle of the server before they’ve decided to finish having their fun, and Cleo’s just stepping up some rocks when she says it. 

“You’re my favorite, you know that? You’ve always been my favorite.” 

He does know, he does know now. He’d guessed it that first sunset, when Cleo sat down with a giddy smile to recount their day. He’d thought it, when she’d wrapped a blanket around his shoulders after his failures and rested her head on his shoulder without a word. He’d lived it, when she had shouted that she would kill him if he tried to kill her–but was reassured otherwise that night on the porch again, with the curse ebbing from his bones. 

Today, he knows it in the blatant rebellion against what’s supposed to be the end, the dread, the fear. 

“You’re mine too.” Etho grins back, and knows that they’ll see his smile even through the mask–knows they’ve come to recognize it in his tone and way his eyebrows scrunch together. . 

They wind up in the sky base with Grian–Grian, who hasn’t quite reached the same conclusion they have. Etho knows by the shadows under his eyes he won’t give up, that he’ll fight clear to the end. Once upon a season, Etho had been the same. 

Not this time. Never this time. 

Around ten minutes to sunset, Etho and Cleo set down their dripstone and bows, and sit on the edge of the cobblestone wall. 

“I don’t think we’re gonna make it back to our base for it this time,” Etho jokes, nudging his shoulder into Cleo’s. Cleo laughs, a carefree thing, and wrinkles her nose. 

“I don’t think we’re gonna make it back for it any time, if we’re being honest.” She leans back, one hand half behind her to support her weight. 

“I know,” Etho says. He brings his leg up to his chest, wrapping his arms around it. Behind them, cobblestone is placed–Grian, ever the survivor. “It was nice, though.” 

“It was nice!” Cleo beams. “Are you alright with this?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Etho hums. “‘s not so bad. Dying with a friend.” 

“It won’t be,” Cleo agrees. 

Because that’s just it, isn’t it? Etho’s never died like this–he’s died at the flames of an arrow shot while protecting his king, he’s died in fights after his allies were killed. Hell, he’s died hand in hand with a soulmate hellbent on killing him now–but he’d been in a frenzy then, a rage-induced thing meant to burn up the place that had never been a true home to them. 

He thinks he won’t mind dying with someone. 

The sun sets in brilliant hues of orange and pink, and they sit together, this final tradition not lost in the face of inevitability. Just as the first star twinkles, Grian comes over, hoisting them back to their feet. 

“They’re coming,” he says. 

It’s time. 

They shoot a few arrows, break some dripstone, all to no avail–but that’s alright, he’s got Cleo, and they’ve got him. 

But oh, the games are never kind, are they? Etho slips, his foot landing weird somehow–and he’s whistling through the air towards the ground at a speed too fast. It knocks the breath from his lungs when he lands–does he hit the clutch? Stars, he doesn’t actually know, because there’s arrows shot at him, shouts of glee from the hunters, and suddenly Etho’s not Etho, he’s just prey–and prey only know to do one thing. 

Run. 

Etho flies forward, dragging his sword out. There’s not many safe spaces left on the server–stars, Grian had even mentioned their base was but a crater in the hill. 

But the porch… the porch was intact. Supposedly. 

He enderpearls, and enderpearls again, and it’s still not enough. The screams behind him are closer, and closer, and then further–and oh, Etho knows it’s time. He’s dead, he’s gone, he’ll be but a wisp of the wind in a few minutes whether he likes it or not. 

And he won’t die by Cleo. 

Cleo, Cleo, Cleo. Oh, he’d not meant it to be like this. He’d meant to die with a smile, right by her side–just as they were meant to die by his. This wasn’t the plan, this wasn’t the plan. A sob claws its way up his throat, the beginnings of the blind panic he’d never meant to feel tonight. He’s going to die, alone, without the comfort of his Cleo. 

Home. He wants to go home. 

Home is in the air, a hundred blocks above him. He’ll never make it–but he can make it back to the porch, the one place of peace. Now, he can feel the twinge of something broken in his ankles, probably from the fall–and the cuts, the bruises, the blood scent thick in his nose. He’s so tired. 

He wants to die at home, he wants to die at home. 

“Oh, he sounds like a wounded animal… let’s put him out of his misery.” A voice said. Cold fear grips Etho’s heart, and he stumbles forward–the porch is in sight!

Let him die at home. Let him die at home. 

A shadow fills his vision, and Etho’s not even had time to lift his shield before blinding pain fills his stomach, and it’s over. 

He’s not allowed that creature comfort of dying at home. 

#secret life #secret life smp #ethoslab #zombiecleo #cletho #secret life spoilers #my fics #tw death #I don't have an explanation at all for this #Is this cohesive?? i wrote it in a daze. in under thirty minutes #if it's not great OH WELL #this is how i am coping #god i'm never gonna feel okay again about them #never ever #i'm fucking insane #bursts into tears

[kayesfanfics]

The Forgemasters x Dracula’s Daughter

A/N: So this is like if Dracula had a vampire daughter that was twins with Adrian, but she was on her fathers side about humans

Hector:

Tries so hard to stop simping, he doesn’t want to piss his master off and have him think he took advantage of your or something. He’s a bit more secretive and isolated, wanting to not socialize as much as he could avoid it and spend time with the undead, rather. But you wanted to get to know these humans your father trusted so much, so after visiting Isaac, you came to find Hector working in his quarters, a pile of dead humans in one corner while undead animals scurried about the room. A cat with half its muscles showing rubbed up against your leg and meowed up at you, earning Hectors attention. He was shy and tried not to look you in the eye, but he answered your questions and allowed you to watch him work

NO YOU SMILING AT HIM AND DRACULA GETS SUSPICIOUS IMMEDIATELY. He raises an eyebrow at you and you’re all “What? You picked a cute human general” “Y/N, don’t even think about it.” And you just laugh at him as he groans like the grumpy old man he is. You definitely like to flirt with Hector in front of him to make him blush 10x harder, and also annoy your father at the same time, which was always a bonus for you (you’re the only one who can get away with it-)

You liked to help Hector with all his pets, playing with Cezar and petting the cat, and letting the bird land on your arm to chirp and squawk at you. He always asks if they’re bothering you, and they never do, you enjoy keeping them all company while their owner works. Sometimes you’ll wander outside of the castle at night and find a dead or half dead animal on the ground, and you rush it to Hector asking if he could save it. You liked animals better than humans just like he did, animals would let you pet them and love them, human would point swords to your throat and calls you vile names

Isaac:

Isaac is arguably Dracula’s favorite of his court, so you probably got curious as to what was so special about this human in particular. So one day you wandered down to his quarters, hearing the screeches of night creatures behind recently brought to life by him. You stood in the door way to watch him, and when he noticed you, asked if he could help you with anything. You asked if you could just watch him do his work, curious about it, and he nodded before getting back to work

HE CALLS YOU MISTRESS Y/N, and gives you the same respect he gives Dracula. You ask him to just simply call you Y/N, and he bows his head before saying just your name as you requested

He doesn’t smile often in the show at all, but he can’t help but smile for you. Sometimes you ask to see his smile and he grants you that wish, sometimes your presence just brings a small smile on your face while he works. Even in front of the rest of the court, he’ll smile if you yell at Godbrand or sass back at Carmilla, and Hector just raises an eyebrow at him cause since when does Isaac know how to smile?

If you ever get into a fight with your father about what direction to go with this war and he overhears or witnessed it, he will talk down his master before following you to wherever you were storming off to. He allows you to rant to him, and you only stop when you hear a quiet chuckle

“Oh, you think this is funny?”

“It is amusing.” He smiles, before setting a hand on your shoulder. “I like seeing you passionate about things, is all.”

He has a hard time saying he loves you, the last time he said it he was beat harshly for it. You say it often, enough for the both of you, and you understand why he doesn’t repeat it. But when he does for the first time, neither of you realize it at first, but you stare at each other when you do. He doesn’t know how you will react, but when you smile and hug him, he relaxes into your gentle touch and reciprocates it

#castlevania hector #castlevania isaac #castlevania x reader #castlevania

[brodieland]

.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Secret Artist ?? ´ˎ˗

Leo Valdez x Fem!Apollo!Reader Synopsis: Leo found the secrets drawings you made of him, leading into some confessions !! Warning(s): some cursing and a little blood, nun to crazy Word Count: 2202

You loved art. Painting, drawing, pottery, you name it. You loved creating things, making things that last. That's how you first began to get close to your now best friend, Leo Valdez.

During a sword lesson, you couldn't have been more bored. When it came to fighting you were already remarkable with a bow and arrow, though given your Apollo lineage, you supposed that was a given for you. But moving on. You had found yourself drawing on your hand with a pen you always kept in your pocket (sucks it didn't turn into a sword😒), and when you looked to your side, you saw the Hephaestus boy, whose name you had previously learned was Leo, was pulling random things from his tool belt and started fidgeting with them. What truly confused you about this, the belt was empty.

"Where are those coming from?" You asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

"What-" Leo turned to you, looking wide-eyed for a split second before answering. "Oh um, it's a magic tool belt I found. I can ask for whatever little pieces and it gives them to me."

"Wow, really? Can you ask for a pen, mine ran out mid drawing." You pouted while holding your arm out to Leo, showing the dragon you were drawing around your arm, and showing how the pen ran out before you got to the top.

"Wow, that's so cool, you just did that right now?" Leo grabbed your arm to get a better look.

"Yeah, I was using Ladon as my inspiration." You smiled as you pointed to the tree that used to be Thalia, that is now wrapped with the golding fleece being protected by said dragon.

"I didn't know that dragon had a name. Does he breathe fire like my Festus?"

"Wait you were the one who repaired Beckendorf's dragon that went rouge? WAIT! You're the fire proof kid?" You gushed, you had heard about the fire proof kid, but you didn't know who it was.

"Oh, you've heard?" Leo grinned. "I hope it was all good things you've heard, like how I'm really cool and funny and ripped."

"Oh... yeah!" You said in a joking tone. "But seriously, I heard some kid went out to find the dragon so I got all the burn stuff ready. Then I got bored and took a nap and slept through, well you, flying into camp on your dragon."

"Trust me its a sight you wish you wish you could've seen. God I looked so awesooommeee." Leo started flexing his 'muscles.' You just started laughing before suddenly you interrupted by Luke, the one leading the sword lesson, clearly his throat to get he both of your attentions.

"Well, if you guys are finished we can continue?" You both quickly nodded. You two were already trying not to laugh, so you refused to look at each other with the fear of bursting out in laughter.

After that lesson, you and Leo continued to hang out. Despite both agreeing that sometime artificial life is easier to be around than human life, you found it easy to spend time together. You guys also made a good team, you made him drawings that he turned into 3D machines, and you patched him up from time to time when he gets his hands all cut up.

After a few months of the two you hanging out everyday, you slowly started developing a little crush towards the fire boy. You loved the way when he got excited he started to set himself on fire, you loved his stupid jokes, you loved his stupid grin, and honestly the list went on. When there were times you weren't hanging out with him, you were drawing. Not just drawing anything, but drawing pictures of Leo, or ones of you and Leo together. Of course, since you never wanted to weird Leo out, you never told him of the drawings, and hid them in a shoebox under your bed.

One day, you were hanging out with your half-brother Lee Fletcher. You both were at the archery range, shooting shot after shot, always on target. Bless Apollo genes for this.

"Why couldn't you just tell him that you like him?" Lee said while aiming toward his target.

"Because, it'll make stuff awkward between us."

"There's no way you don't think he likes you back." Lee side-eyed you.

"We're just friends and we're gonna stay like that. He's just girl-crazy, that's what your seeing, not him genuinely liking me."

"Gods, I'll never understand how you live in such an ignorantly bliss bubble." Did that even make sense?

"Now what if I used you as my next target?" You chuckled as you aimed toward Lee.

"Oh of course, now what if got an apple to place on my head?" Lee said sarcastically as he used his hands to make a circle shape above his head, making you both laugh harder. Suddenly, in your peripheral vision, you saw another one of your brothers running toward you with a slightly worried look on his face.

"Hey Austin what's wrong?" You asked him as your laughter died down.

"You and your healing abilities needed back at the infirmary. It's Leo." Austin stated causing your eyes to go wide.

"What? Is he okay?" You asked quickly.

"Well, he's not dying, but he still needs some of your healing." And with that you were off making your way back to the infirmary. When you finally got there, you quickly swung the door open and saw Leo and blood dripping from his hand, more than what he usually comes in with.

"Oh hey there Y/N" Leo said as he threw a playful wink, not really working because his face showed he was clearly in pain.

"Leo, how does this even happen." You scolding as you walked toward him grabbing his hand in yours. You couldn't even bother getting flustered while looking at his hand.

"Oh I-um" Leo looked around for a second, he looked like his face was getting hot (he was always hot but this time in a different way). You raised your eyebrow at him before he finally spoke up. "I just fell into a bunch of screws, their sharper than you think."

"You're such a klutz you know that." You laughed at the boy, who was suddenly more quiet than usual. "Hey, you good there?"

"Huh, oh yeah. Perfect and dandy."

"Uh, okay. Anyways I can't give you nectar and ambrosia for this, but it shouldn't take too long to heal." You said as you smiled and out your hands on your hips.

"Thanks to you and your magic hands."

"My magic hands?"

"Yeah your- never mind." You started laughing while Leo was rolling was rolling his eyes saying that it wasn't even that funny. It was pretty funny.

"Anyways, wanna hang out at my cabin later, I got the delivery guys to bring me back some gummy bears and jolly ranchers." You asked.

"Um, obviously? Who do you think I am?" You just chuckled as you both started walking toward the Apollo cabin. "How do you convince the saytrs to pick stuff up for you when they head out? I've tried so many times and they just tell me no every time."

"You're not as charming and amazing and gorgeous and humble as I am." You joked as you flipped your hair.

"Well... humble might be a little stretch but I'll let you have it."

"Are you just using me for my free candy?" You gasped.

"Ooohhhh I would neverrrrrrr." Leo laughed you opened the doors to your cabin. Leo took the chance to run and jump on your bed like he does every time he comes over. Except this time, Leo jumped a little to far and fell from the side of your bed landing on the floor.

"Leo how do you even manage, your supposed to be taking it easy you know."

"I'm for the workshop not the battle field" he joked as he laid on the ground.

"Excuses is all I'm hearing from here. Anyways I stuffed the candy in Lee's stuff so gimme a sec." You walked toward Lee's nightstand to retrieve your stash.

As you did so you had your back turned away from Leo, not realizing he was still on the floor. What you also didn't know, was that he had in fact, noticed the shoe box that resided under your bed. And with out saying anything he decided to take a peak at what's inside. To say it shocked him was putting it mildly. He stared at them in awe, not realizing you turned around till he heard you drop the bags of candy you were holding.

"Leo.." You whispered out. Your heart literally, just shot outta your ass. These were the last drawings you never wanted him to see. And there were enough to make you look like a total stalker.

"Y/N.. how come you hid these from me. I look so cool. But I do think you made my muscles a little underwhelming though." Leo commented. You continued to stand there with your mouth slightly agape, not knowing what to say and he continued to look through them. You desperately wanted to rip from his hands but you were frozen with embarrassment. Finally you snapped out of your haze.

"Leo.. can you like, put those away.." You said as you sat down in from of him.

"What why, these are so cool." Why is he so obliviousssss??

"Because you weren't supposed to see those." Will he get the hint this time?

"Wh-" He stopped himself. It clicked in Leo's head. It was quiet for a second. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die before he finally spoke up.

"Y/N, do you want to know how I actually messed up my hand?" You nodded and Leo continued. "Well, I was working on random stuff with Charles and Nyssa, when they kept bringing up this one girl. They kept telling me to just man up and ask her out, but I was sure she didn't like me. I got so bothered by them and slammed my hands as hard as I could on my workbench to make a point, but of course it was covered in the screws and they all went through my hand. And well, you know the rest." You sat there in silence. "The girl is you by the way, just in case you didn't get it.

You stared at him in disbelief, to think the both of you were having the same kind of conversations on different ends of the camps made you laugh. The fact he actually liked you back was endearing of course but still, the drawings he found were kind of embarrassing.

"Wow, sounds like you have anger issues really, might wanna get that checked out." You joked. Leo just rolled his eyes.

"Haha, can I kiss you now?" You jumped forward and kissed him. You both continued to make out until Lee and Austin can back into the cabin, standing over the two of you. Lee cleared his throat and got the both of your attentions.

"Do you mind?" Leo asked.

"Yeah, we do actually. Get a room that isn't about to get filled with a bunch of little Apollo campers getting ready for dinner." Austin said. You and Leo groaned as you both stared getting up.

"Yeah take your candy and stalker drawings with you please." Lee joked and you wanted to take the drawings and give him a paper cut in between his index finger and his thumb. Yeah, that'll show him. You didn't though, you choose peace as you put the drawings back and left with Leo and the candy.

"Y/N, can you follow me I want to show you something." Before you even had the chance to respond Leo grabbed your wrist and dragged you away.

"Are you kidnapping me?"

"Of course."

And finally you both made it to Bunker 9. You've actually never been in here before. Most people haven't even heard of it, it's normally kept between Hephaestus campers and a few others. It was empty at the moment with everyone heading out for dinner.

"Leo, what are we doing here?" You saw Leo looking through drawers and cabinets.

"Well, I was making something yesterday and I left it here before the whole hand thing happened. It's somewhere- AH! Here it is." Leo ran up to you and handed you his little creation. "It's just something I did in my free time, you know." It was a mini bouquet of metal flowers. You always got sad when the flowers you had always ended up dying and at some point you mentioned it to Leo.

"Aw Leo, these are so cute." They were in he shape of sunflowers, your favorite flowers. You don't even remember telling him these were your favorites

"Glad you like them, it sucked seeing you upset over dead flowers. So I made ones that would last." Leo grinned, you just walked up to him and kissed him once more.

"This is really sweet, but we should probably rush to dinner."

"Yeah probably."

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson pjo #percy pjo #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you #leo valdez fluff #leo valdez #leo valdez pjo

[shuuuuush]

Hiiii, I love your writing! I would love to see if you could write something with filly. Like a fluff where you go out to like a party together and you take care of drunk filly.You don't have to do it <3, if you can though that would be amazing <3 <3 <3

ABSOLUTE LOVE OF MY LIFE [Yung Filly]

Warnings: drunkeness? (Is that a warning 💀)

A/N: aww thank u so much! Of course! I legit wanted to write for Filly so bad but had no ideas so thank u 🙏

"You're having a party? Of course, we'll be there!" Filly ended the call with Chunkz on a positive note. Chunkz was hosting a party for hitting 2 and a half million subscribers.

It was a great achievement for him and obviously he asked his best friend if he would be able to attend.

You were at his house, getting ready for it because Filly was your ride there.

Your boyfriend of 2 years always wanted to include you in everything he did or attended.

He never wanted you to be by yourself.

Just as you finished your makeup, Filly called out from downstairs to say that you both needed to go now or there'll be too much traffic when you get there.

You headed downstairs, and Filly stood there in awe, gazing at you, he started to smile when you walked towards him.

"Are you ok? You ready to go?" You asked, placing a hand on his arm in confusion as he still just gazed at you with loving eyes.

"You're absolutely stunning, babe." He gave you a kiss on the cheek and hugged you, which you returned.

You both then headed to the car, and he started to drive to Chunkz event place where the party was being held.

When you arrived at the place, Filly opened the door for you, and you thanked him, calling him a gentleman. To which he responded with a cheeky smile and taking your hand.

He knocked on the door, and it was opened by the man of the night himself, Chunkz. He greeted Filly with a hug and the same with you. Thanking both of you that you could make it tonight.

He ushered the two of you inside and brought you to the main room. It was a huge living space with a food area with snacks and drinks and then a dance floor with a disco ball above it.

Aj and Sharky both were already hitting the dance floor with their amazing dance moves. Classic Sharky with the tiktok dances and Aj just doing his own thing.

And obviously some chairs and tables for those who just want to sit and have a chat with the gang.

On the sofa, at the left of the room sat Niko and Kenny, chatting away, but when you both came into view, they waved, greeting hellos.

Harry and Darkest walked in right after you did, and you all greeted each other. Shaking hands or giving hugs.

After that interaction, more people started flooding in, some whom you knew, and some you have never seen them before.

The party was getting quite loud until Chunkz walked into the top of the room, a mic in hand.

"Hey guys! Just wanted to say thank you for being here today, my friends. This is a very important thing to me, I appreciate that I could spend this special moment with you all. Thank you." He bowed and went back down to talk his friends.

Currently you were with Filly talking to Chunkz about his amazing achievement.

"No, seriously, Chunkz, this is an amazing achievement. It's not easy, but I'm so proud of you, brother." Filly hugged Chunkz again as Chunkz thanked him for what seemed like the thousandth time tonight.

You smiled at the scene in front of you. You loved how Filly was always so sweet and so kind to his friends. And of course, you got the same treatment.

Your stomach rumbled, and your eyes darted to the food table. Your name was being called over to the food table, so you gladly glided over there to get something to eat.

.

.

While you were enjoying food and talking to some friends you knew, you felt the need to check up on Filly. Especially since you heard one of your friends say that someone brought drinks to this party.

Scanning the area, you tried to see if you could spot Filly amongst the crowd. Not seeing him at all, you started to get a bit worried.

You spotted Harry first and walked up to him. You thought maybe he knew where Filly would be.

"Hey Harry, have you seen Filly? I can't spot him at all." Signalling that he couldn't hear you over the music, he pulled you aside to hear you better and you repeated your question.

"Yeah, I think I saw him last talking to Kenny. I think, not too sure, though. He had a drink in his hand so he could be in the bathroom."

You rubbed the bridge of your nose, a bit annoyed, maybe you should've talked to Filly first about the drinking. He can get a bit crazy when he's drunk.

You thanked Harry, to which he responded with a thumbs up, and you continued your search for Filly, remembering he could be with Kenny and the last place you saw Kenny was at the sofa.

Unless he obviously moved, he could potentially still be there. So that's where you looked and you were glad to find Filly there laughing away with Kenny.

But it wasn't a normal laugh. Oh no, Filly was wasted. You could tell he was by the way there were 2 bottles beside him.

He turned his head and spotted you, and his eyes instantly lit up, running up to hug you super tight and once he let go he grabbed your face and started kissing you, usually you would kiss back but knowing this was the drunk side of Filly and he won't remember anything after.

Pulling away, he pouted, he took your hand and brought you up to the middle of the room. You were really confused, and you felt a hunch that you should probably leave before Filly started a ruckus in this party.

"EVERYONE!" Filly shouted, turning some people's heads.

"THIS GIRL RIGHT HERE IS THE ABSOLUTE LOVE OF MY LIFE." He pointed at you and tried covering your face to ease the embarrassment a bit, but your efforts were in vain when he took hold of your hands and held it in his. "ISN'T SHE BEAUTIFUL?"

"I LOVE HER BUT SHE DIDN'T KISS ME BACK. DON'T YOU LOT THINK MAN GOT TO HAVE HIS GIRL SHOW LOVE BACK??" Some laughed, others nodded, but right now, all you wanted was to go home and get away from this crowd.

His friends laughed at the sight of drunk Filly. It's a good thing he didn't take any more drinks, or this man would have been dancing like crazy. Basing off what happened last time, he took too many drinks at one party.

Chuckling nervously, you didn't want to cause anymore of a scene, so you manoeuvred your way through the crowd while grabbing a water bottle with one hand and the other still holding Filly's hand.

Despite his shouting and asking people what they think about his girl, he managed to be made outside safely. On the steps of the house, you sat him down and handed him the bottle of water.

He took it and drank half of it and gave it back to you. You ran a hand down his back as he felt the effects of alcohol hit him, causing him to hold his head in his hands. You knew he probably had a headache right now.

Pulling out your phone and you texted Chunkz.

"Thanks for having us, Chunkz. Hope you enjoy the rest of the party, but I think we gotta go, Filly's drunk, and I gotta take care of him."

"No problem, Y/N, take care of that drunk idiot."

You laughed a bit at that text. But you turned all your attention to Filly now, helping him off of the steps and putting his arm around your shoulder to carry some of the weight. You helped him walk back to the car.

"y/nnnn," he whined, dragging out his words. He stopped in the middle of his tracks suddenly, right before he entered the car. "Do you still love me? Why didn't you want to kiss me?"

You sighed, softly looking into his eyes, "Filly, of course I still love you, it's just that you're drunk and you don't remember much after. Plus, I know you prefer things out of the eyes of people." You winked and then kissed his cheek, to which his whole face lit up.

Finally getting him into the car, you helped put his seat belt on, and you drove your way back home.

Out of nowhere, Filly starts shout-singing to the music playing on car stereo. You laugh and sing along with him throughout the drive home.

.

.

And at 5 in the morning, Filly could be found puking up all of last nights party.

But as the amazing girlfriend you are, you're there beside him, helping him through his hangover.

Afterwards, you both end up sitting on the bathroom floor, scrolling on your phone and showing him all the videos and photos the beta squad boys sent you about last night. Including Filly's outburst.

The man in front of you just laughs, but then takes a hold of your hands in his.

"You know, I meant everything I said last night. You are the love of my life, The things you're doing to me to make me feel this way are actually insane."

You smiled and went over to hug him, "You're the love of my life too."

"So you meant everything you said last night, excluding what you said about your girl having to kiss you back?"

"No, I meant that too." He laughed and leaned in to kiss you regardless of your reaction, but he was glad that you accepted it this time and returned the kiss.

Taglist: @b4tasquad @p3drii @n1kodl @elora-k @slutforpablogavi @enhacolor @amwife @distantfromu

Mutuals Taglist: @b4tasquad @p3drii @vctrvn-ls @allygatcr @slutforpablogavi @kennysboxergf @n1kodl @amwife

#shuuuuush fics #beta squad #footasylum #yung filly #yung filly x reader #yung filly x you #filly #yung filly betasquad #yung filly footasylum #niko omilana #sharky #king kenny #aj shabeel #harry pinero #chunkz #darkest man

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

The Other Sister || D. Targaryen x oc

GIF by @hopemikaelsongf DIVIDERS by @straywords

Summary: In which Elys’ older sister is to be wed to the Rogue Prince Daemon himself, however, the Prince’s gaze finds itself on her, and you only.

P.t 1 P.t 2 P.t 3 P.t 4

previous 

“You are quite good for a women” A voice calls out making Elys turn around. She assumed she looked very unlady like, hair all over the place, red cheeks, and trousers and a tunic hung loosely on her body.

She scoffs as she sees a man in armour approach her, “And who are you?” The girl questions, “Ser Criston Cole my Lady, protector of the Princess Rhaenyra” She simply nods as he studies Elys.

“You train in combat? Why?” He adds as she plays with the tip of her sword. “I’d rather swing around a sword than sit still and look pretty for my husband,” He chuckles as does Elys.

“Let’s see how good you are Ser Criston shall we?” “We shall, first person to get tapped loses. Fair?” “Fair.” She replies as the two ready their stance.

He swung his sword left and right as Elys gracefully misses them making her smile. The younger Stark was quite skilled as to the fact that she practically knew where the sword would aim at.

She continued moving backwards as the knight grunts in frustration. As she got closer to the wall, his sword aimed for her shoulder as she duck causing him to stumble forward giving her a chance to tap his back.

A round of claps made Elys look across to see her father and sister accompanied by the rest of the royal family. Only one person didn’t clap, he just kept his eyes on her with his hands behind him.

Elys shakes hands with Criston as she walks closer to the rest. “You fight well Lady Elys” Viserys praises as she bows, “Thank you, your highness.” “We are going for a stroll so that Lady Elaena and Daemon can spend some time in each other’s accompany. Do join us!” Rhaenyra beamed as she chuckles. “Of course.”

Rhaenyra decided to come with Elys as she went back to the castle to get changed. “Should I worry for my sister?” She half playfully say as she looks at Rhaenyra. Elys was dressed in a tight fitting dress, much opposite to her trousers and tunic for training.

Rhaenyra softly chuckles, “My uncle is an intimidating person, and ruthless, but he has a heart. My uncle’s feelings is something I can’t quite figure out, but I am sure he will grow to love your sister” She looks Elys in her eyes with a smile.

She smiles back as Elys faces the front, she sees the rest of the others already walking. Joining her father, he offers his arm to his daughter which she gladly took.

The two were behind King Viserys and Alicent, Elys’ sister and Daemon infront of them. “Are you alright, my darling?” Her father questions as she look at him, “Quite” Elys replies, her gaze on the ground.

She couldn’t help but think back at the way Rhaenyra’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. Like it was tight lipped hiding away her true feelings regarding her uncle’s love that supposedly may soon grow on your sister.

Looking up for a quick moment, Elys locks eyes with the Prince himself. A small smirk evident on his face as she quickly looks away, finding Alicent’s hair interesting.

Elys watches as her sister leans her head on Daemon’s shoulder. She had no idea why, but she felt a small flutter of jealousy in her heart. Shaking away the horrid feeling—the feeling of somewhat betraying her older sister who dreamed of marrying into royalty—Elys excuse herself from the stroll and walks away.

~

With amazement, the corners of Elys’ mouth twitch up at the sight of the red scaled dragon. She had no idea who’s dragon it belonged to, but she imagined herself riding it into the horizon.

Elys was always quite fascinated by the big scaly beasts and longed the feeling of being up so high in the sky. On the other hand, her sister was terrified of them, thinking that they were horrid.

“Would you like to ride him?” A voice calls out from behind the girl making her spin around. “I-“ A genuine chuckle leaves his lips as he walks closer to her. “That is if he likes you” He grins, offering his hand.

Like a moth attracted to light, Elys takes his hand as he leads her into the dragon pit. “His name is Caraxes” Daemon looks back at her as she lets him guide her closer to the red beast.

Missing the warmth of his skin, he leans up against the dragon, his hand rubbing the dragon as Caraxes closes his eyes and lean against his rider.

“Give me your hand” Daemon outstretches his hand as Elys cautiously steps closer to him to take his hand. Taking her small hands in his, he presses it against Caraxes’ scales.

A gasp leaves her lips as a huge smile finds its way on her pretty lips. Daemon watched in awe at Elys’ side profile as she slowly rubs his dragon, a smile on his lips too.

He found it comforting that Caraxes allowed himself to feel comfortable with another person’s touch, not just his. They say dragons were the Targaryen’s other halves, an extension of their feelings but in a fire breathing dragon.

“He likes you” Daemon says in a matter of fact, “Does he?” She questions looking up at Caraxes’ eye, “Mhm,“ Eyes flickering to Elys’ face once again, an idea pops up in his mind. “Have you ever experienced the night life in flea bottom?”

Looking at Daemon questionably, she replies, “No I haven’t, my Prince” “Say, would you like to accompany me tonight? Curtesy of Caraxes of course” His hand motions to the blood wyrm.

“Aren’t you and my sister suppose to be entertaining everyone tonight you Grace?” Elys tilts her head as he scoffs looking down, “Kostis umbagon” Daemon directs his gaze to his left. (They can wait)

“Nyke pendagon ēzi already ēdas enough hen waiting syt ao syt tubī Daemon” Elys replies, crossing her arms as she lift her chin up towards him. (I think they have already had enough of waiting for you for today daemon)

His eyes dance in amusement as the High Valaryian rolled of her tongue in the most melodic way. “I thought you could speak my tongue” He smirks, offering his hand once again as she takes it naturally.

He helps Elys up on Caraxes as a giggle escapes, she felt so high up already and she hadn’t even left the ground. Daemon sits behind her, his chest leaning against her back, close enough that she could feel his body warmth and his breathing in her ear.

He places both hands on her waist as he leans against her head. “Issi ao ready?” Daemon’s hot breath fans her ear as Elys gulps, nonetheless, she nods as his hands give her waist a light squeeze. (Are you ready)

“Soves!” Daemon shouts as Caraxes lets out a screech before lifting off the ground.

next

~

Taglist! (let me know if you want to be added)

@sweetybuzz25 @sebastian025 @mirandastuckinthe80s @khaleesihavilliard @thelastcitysposts @anginoguera @sakuramadae @sithapprentice

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader #house of the dragon #matt smith #daemon targaryen smut #house targaryen #daemon targaryen #fanfiction

[neteyamsyawntu]

Kinktober 14

S i x t y - N i n e

Jake Sully x Na'vi!Reader

Warnings: 🔞MINORS DNI🔞, 69 position, slight corruption, vulgar language, pet names, oral both fem/male receiving.

Sitting with your legs crossed, you worked tentatively on carving a long piece of bark. Since the one known as Jake Sully had started training with Neytiri, the daughter of your clan’s leaders, he had somehow managed to break two different bows and given your skill in the matter, you were tasked with carving him a new one. Your newest work was almost complete, eyes narrowed in a deep focus as you sanded the edges into a fine peak. It was almost eclipse, about the time that both Jake and Neytiri would return from their training for the day, which is when Jake was supposed to meet with you to pick up his new bow.

Just as you thought he would fail to show up tonight, Jake jogged up through the winding branches of hometree to where you were working on his weapon, slightly panting and out of breath. “You are late.” You say simply with a bit of a teasing tone. “Yeah.. yeah sorry about that. Kind of lost track of time.”. You simply hum in response, as you put the finishing touches on the bow. Jake quietly eyes you before crouching down at a respectful distance from you, letting his eyes float from your working hands to your figure. “Hey… would you wanna try something tonight?”, you raise a nonexistent brow at him with a smirk to accompany it before handing him the finished product and turning to clean up your materials. “Another one of your sky people customs I assume?”.

As a na’vi native to Pandora you found yourself strangely fascinated by the humans and their home. Now having a dream walker so accessible to you, you didn’t hold back on any of your questions. The last time you fixed a bow for Jake, your questioning had gotten a bit risque, but the curious mind holds no bounds, even when he offered to teach you something humans did to pleasure each other. Jake chuckles at your question remembering fondly the mental image of you bobbing your head up and down on his cock, with a fist full of your hair pulled back in his hand, “Well since you liked what I taught you last time, I figured you may want to try something similar…” he smirks, inching his way closer to you, moving a strand of hair from out of your eyes as you turn to look at him. “It is similar?”  Your eyes sparkled with intrigue, tail flicking upward from side to side as you lean into his touch, “Mhm, real similar. You trust me, right princess?” The nickname made you shiver. You had learned that it meant someone of great value. To be thought of by someone in such a way, to be viewed as special, felt so exciting, you were almost jealous Neytiri got to spend so much time with him.

 Deepened color spreads over your cheeks as you give Jake a small nod, shifting your body to face him, now sitting on your knees. “Good girl… now c’mere~.” Jake purrs, his eyes half lidded as he watches you crawl closer to him, taking your hand to pull you into his chest, his lips immediately attaching themselves to your ear, nibbling sweetly on your earlobe, his four fingered hands guiding your own to the band of his loincloth, “How about you take this off for me, sweetheart?” Jake whispers softly into your ear, while his arms move to wrap around your body, already beginning to undo your own tewng. Your hands move just as hastily, untying the strings of his loincloth masterfully. 

Pulling your loincloth away from your body, Jake leans back to take in your body, licking his lips as his eyes study every curve, ridge, and stripe that painted your form. “What is next?” You ask innocently, your eyes curiously wandering over his own muscular build in the process. Watching carefully, you watch as Jake lays back on his elbows, spreading his legs a bit to allow his cock to slowly slide out from the confines of his inner slit. The view alone was enough to make your stomach flutter, already feeling your intimates becoming wet with arousal. 

With his cock now standing proudly, fully erect, Jake gestures you closer with a flick of his index and middle fingers. Biting your lip you proceed to appease his wishes, crawling closer until your hands are beside either of his hips, “I want you to listen closely to me, doll. I want you to turn around and straddle my chest. Can you do that for me, baby girl?” His tone was so smooth and inviting you couldn’t even think of manifesting a second thought, your tail swaying alluringly as you got into position, swinging your leg over his chest, presenting your glistening folds to his hungry eyes. A sudden gasp leaves you when a harsh grip on your hips, reels you back bringing your intimates closer to Jake’s face. “Go ahead doll, you know what to do.” He hums, nodding to where your face was placed directly above. 

Bringing your attention to Jake’s pelvic region, your brain goes through the previous lesson you had with him on this particular form of pleasure. Bending down to your elbows, you cup the base of his cock, eagerly opening your mouth to slide your tongue teasingly up his shaft before taking its entirety in your mouth. A satisfied sigh broke from Jake’s throat, his fingertips imprinting themselves in the divots of your hips as he draws your intimates closer to his face, “Just like that… keep going baby girl.”. A muffled gasp sounds from your throat when a sudden wet swipe of his tongue breaks through your moist folds. Your body shivers, tail shifting to curl around his forearm as Jake drags the flat of his tongue across your pussy twice over before moving to flick at your clit with its tip. Your back arched at the foreign sensation, your free hand gripping into the muscles of Jake’s thigh. 

You can’t even fathom how to respond as your body seems to do so for you, instinctively pushing your rear into his face, following the aching call of your core begging for more, earning a harsh suck on your clit. His hips buck his erection deeper down your throat, silently pleading for you to keep sucking at him, a lewd gag emerging from the back of your throat at the action. Locking your lips securely around Jake’s shaft you bring yourself back to the task at hand, bobbing your head just as passionately as he was making out with your needy cunt, providing him with satisfied hums to send pleasurable vibrations through his cock. Jake moans into your cunt, his fingers splaying over your ass cheeks to grip and knead at them heatedly, groping and manipulating the flesh to coax you closer to him as his tongue pushes through your soaked pussy lips.

The two of you continued like this, moving your hips against each others’ mouths as a synchronous hunger permeated between both of you, motivating you to push farther and farther, until you were deepthroating his cock, while Jake had shifted to flicking and rolling your clit, his lips and tongue occupying your hole. “Fuuuck baby girl, you taste sweeter than any fruit I’ve ever tasted. So god damn delicious.” Jake mumbles against your folds before wrapping his lips around them, and pulling with a brief suck. His mouth felt so slippery against your skin, being soaked down to his chin in your juices. Your eyes rolled back in ecstasy as you continued to suck him off, your jaw was tense and uncomfortable, your cheeks aching for relief, feeling numb the harder you sucked on his shaft, purely motivated by the longing to make him feel good. Completely enraptured by the sensation of pure bliss as you worked one another toward the peak of satisfaction, your bodies calling to each other, working desperately and greedily out of pure primal heat. Soon the feelings of longing became too overwhelming for either of you to endure, allowing your head to still and mouth to remain open as Jake selfishly fucked your face, but he of course was not the only one to give in to gluttonous desire, leaving his tongue to hang outside of his mouth as you ground your clit against it, moaning uncontrollably around his cock as you came, legs trembling from the intensity. Jake was not too far behind you before shooting his load into your mouth, your eyes blown wide as his hot seed filled your cheeks. 

A sudden panic struck in Jake’s chest as he made the realization, anchoring himself upward, giving a soft yet direct couple of taps on your thigh, “It’s ok baby you can spit it out.” he urges a bit anxiously, watching you cautiously for any signs of discomfort. To his surprise, you merely look over your shoulder at him, sticking out your tongue to show that you had swallowed every last drop, aside from a small drip on the side of your mouth that had spilled out. Smirking cheekily at you Jake pulled himself up, pulling you to sit in his lap, dragging his thumb over the remnant of his cum and sweeping it into your mouth, letting the pad of his digit sit on your tongue as you obediently sucked it off. “Such a dirty little thing… you did well, hon. What do you think?” Jake asks, gently withdrawing his thumb from between your lips to wipe a bit of sweat stuck hair from off your forehead, “It was surprising at first, but it was enjoyable.” You explain with an innocent smile, like a child who had just been taught a new game, “Shall we do it again?”.

 Your wide eyed and eager expression left Jake speechless for a moment, before he leaned forward planting his lips against your own, his hand drifting to hold your cheek, before slowly pulling away, “We can do it as many times as you want, princess… but I may have something even better to teach you, if you’ll let me.”.

Tag list: @pandoraslxna @dvxsja @jakexneytiri @blue-slxt @neteyamsoare@tiredmamaissy, @neteyamsikran @oceanstar19 @hadesbabygurl @xylianasblog @neteyamssyulang @anonymousailurophile @netyamstruelove @eyrina-avatar @justcaptiannoodles @teymars @neteyamyanw3 @eyweveng

#avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar twow #avatarsmut #avatar 2009 #jake sully #jake sully smut #avatar jake sully #jake sully x reader #avatar kinktober #kinktober #lunaskinktober2023

[plussizefantasia]

Gentle Hands

Flufftober Day 4: Playing with Their Hair

Thorin Oakenshield x f!reader

Word Count: 1.9k

AN: This is a long one, you guys. I don't know what it is about Throin that just makes me not be able to stop writing. I'm not 100% happy with the ending but I needed to get it posted today. As always, please reblog if you enjoyed the story!

divider credit: @royallaesthetics

Being the queen of Erebor had its ups and downs. The long and arduous meetings were a pain, especially as you were often the only woman present. Sometimes Dis would be kind enough to join you as she knew how much you detested the stuffy dwarf lords who looked down at you, but she had other duties that required her attention and could not always be there to be a buffer.

You wouldn’t trade your crown for the world though, because the crown came with Thorin. Your One, the absolute love of your life, your other half, your soulmate. Sometimes he was the only thing that kept you going, that gave you strength to deal with the pig-headed dwarf lords from the Blue Mountains. He was your reason, and you were his. You battled with him side by side to get him where he is today. You journeyed with him to reclaim the mountain, you stayed by his side even when he was overtaken by the dragon sickness, and you sat vigil at his bedside when the rest of the kingdom feared he wouldn’t survive the wounds inflicted upon him by the white orc. 

You take care of each other. You have since the first time you met and you don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. When the two of you got married and you took the title of Queen you both quickly realized that there was very little time left in the day for both of you to spend together. The time apart hurt you both and a decision had to be made. 

Several long discussions later had led you two to the routine you had today. Your days ended about an hour before he did. In that hour you would make sure that dinner was served for the two of you in your chambers and ensure that everything was ready for the both of you when it was time to get ready for sleep.

The two of you would share dinner together, in private, and speak about your days. Yu would tell each other the good and the bad and be there for one another throughout the highs and the lows. By doing this you kept the bond between the two of you strong and made sure that each other was the best they could be. 

That night, Thorin had walked in right as the last maid had finished placing the last tray of food at your table. She bowed to her King as she left the room and shut the large wooden door behind her. You stood and walked towards your lover looping your arms around his neck and leaning into him. He did the same, placing his hands upon your waist he pulled you into him and the two of you rested your foreheads together. 

You stayed like this for a moment before pulling apart. As you pulled away you could feel the brush of Thorin’s lips on your face and the soft caress of his facial hair that followed. 

“You look ravishing tonight ghivashel.” He spoke aloud, holding out one hand to you. When you took it, he spun you gently getting a full view of the dark blue dress that adorned your body. It was not one of the fanciest dresses that you had but it hugged you in all the right places. And Thorin loved the color on you, it complemented his family colors and he thought you looked exquisite every time he saw you in it. 

“You look wonderful as well amralime” You responded, leading your love to the table which was full of food. That was something that you had to get used to when you became Queen, the amount of things at your disposal. 

You had not been royalty in the Blue Mountains where you and Throin had met for the first time. You were the daughter of Blue Mountain’s most knowledgeable and well-liked historians, also a good friend of Balin's which is what had garnered your family an invitation to the youngest prince’s naming ceremony all those years ago. Now you lived a life of luxury, one that Thorin had assured you that you deserved, but one that was difficult to get used to nonetheless. Every dinner was a feast where the table in your chambers would be stacked high with meat, bread, and cheese. There was always a cask of wine around and some sort of dessert severed in excess. You and Throin were never able to eat it all and it made you feel the tiniest bit guilty every time you saw what was sent back to the kitchens. 

On the table rested a tray full of braised lamb, some roasted potatoes, a basket full of rolls, some sort of stew in a still steaming pot, a jar of honey and a ball of some kind of herb spread, and a tray of Thorin’s favorite dessert, honey cakes. There was no way that the two of you would be able to finish all the food on the table but you sat and began to eat regardless.

“How was your day ghivashel?” Asked Thorin once you both had had a chance to eat some. 

“Tiring as always my love, but I did manage to have a breakthrough with some of the Lords that Dain has sent over to negotiate. They are certainly not happy with me, but I believe we have an understanding now.”

Thorin smiled at this, he had no doubt when he asked you to marry him that you would make a wonderful Queen and he has yet to be proven wrong. He admires you greatly, you were not bred to be royalty as he was, but you seem to have taken to it like a fish to water. 

“I knew you could do it, darling, you are the strongest woman I know.”

“Do not let Dis hear you say that she would have your beard.” The two of you laughed and you soaked in the loveliness of the evening.

You both continued to talk through your days, offering advice when needed and celebrating the other's accomplishments with joy. 

“You look tired ghivashel, shall we get ready for bed?” Thorin asked you, placing his hand on your elbow and looking into your eyes. You sighed and nodded pushing yourself up from the table and into your husband’s arms. 

He guided you towards the bath chambers and helped you ease out of your dress. There was a hint of lust in his eyes but you both knew that nothing would come out of it. Thorin wanted you anytime he saw you, it was very unlikely for there not to be a small amount of lust in his eyes whenever they were on you. You were the same way, you could easily recognize how handsome your husband was. He was broad and built, corded muscles would tightly beneath his skin. And his hair, Mahal his hair was one of your favorite things about him. The deep color complemented his complexion and the grays that kissed his temples and flowed through the rest of his locks made it shine. Silver was one of your favorite types of metals and to see it woven in amongst your husband's mane made it all the more attractive.

Thorin placed his hand in the emerald bath, to test the temperature of the water. When he was sure that it would not burn you he helped you lower yourself into the tub and submerge yourself in the waters. You have recently begun to have the maids add rose water to your baths as well, knowing how soft the extracts made your skin feel and how much you loved the smell in your hair. 

Thorin rolled up the sleeves of his white undershirt and lathered the hair soap in his hands. This was his favorite part of the night when he got to take care of you. He cherished you and would give you the world if he could. Washing your hair for you was the best way he knew to show his love. He knew you loved the way his hands carded through your hair. He could tell by the way your shoulders would fall and you would let his hands hold the weight of your head. 

As he delicately washes your hair for you, you begin to wash the rest of your body. Using scented soaps imported from Rivendell you clean your body from the dirt of the day. When Throin finishes rinsing out your hair, and you are done washing up, he leaves your side to go grab your dressing gown and help you into it. 

You place a kiss on his cheek as you pass him on the way out of the bath. He is getting ready to get into it and clean himself for the night. When you return to the larger open room of your chambers you sit at your vanity and begin to prepare yourself for sleep. You know that Throin doesn’t usually take too long in the bath, the two of you have timed this out pretty well so that he usually ends at the same time you do. 

When he finally emerges from the bath, he is dressed in his black sleep shirt and a soft pair of trousers. His raven locks are still wet, they are not dripping onto the floor as he’s already gone through them with a cloth. You know that he is as eager as you are for the last step of your nightly routine. He rounds to his side of the bed and takes a seat on top of the covers. His back is facing you and he begins to settle himself. You grab the brush and the hair oil that he loves and lift yourself up onto the bed as well. 

Thorin washes your hair for you, and you re-braid his for him. It is the way for you two to reassure each other that the love you have is strong. The dwarven tradition of braiding your One’shair is one that you and he both enjoy. 

You drip the oil onto the roots of his hair and with your fingers rake it down and through his tresses. You will admit that you do more playing with your husband’s hari than is strictly necessary but if the way Thorin is practically purring, you don’t think he minds.

Once you feel that his hair is free of tangles and sufficiently oiled you begin to take the sections into your hands that hold the braids. One of his braids is a marriage braid and it is the one you take the most time with. The others denote his status as king, his family line, and his victories in battle. After all the years of marriage, these braids are second nature to you and you’re pretty sure you could do it in your sleep if you wanted.

Your love for Thorin is felt by the way your hands move. You never pull his hair and your movements are always slow and gentle. You take care of him, more than just doing his hair, you hold his heart in your gentle hands as well.

When you finish you place a kiss on your husband's temple and hand the brush you used over to him to place back on his side of the room. He does so without complaint. You slip under the covers and get comfortable while Thorin blows out the candles in the room. When he joins you he pulls your body closer to his and the two of you just lay together. Getting comfort from the other without needing words.

#plus size reader #plus size!reader #fanfic #fluff #x reader #thorin oakenshield #thorin x reader #the hobbit #hobbit fic #thorin oakenshield x reader

[angelkissiies]

prophetic

abby anderson x scar!reader

cw : mentions of canon violence, injuries, canon doesn’t exist here, slow burn as fuck, literal bare minimum romance but like ,, you can feel it.

wc : 5.5k

a/n : i did NOT proof read this ,, i finished it at 4am and it was 11 pages. nooooo way. hope you enjoy !

The rain pelted you as you followed closely behind the boy, shielding him from sight as you pushed through the dense forest, hearing sharp whistles coming closer and closer no matter how fast you’d tried to run. It felt endless, the harsh scratches of the branches on your skin as you held the machete close- praying you didn’t end up having to use it. 

“Demons!” Lev whisper-shouted, altering you to the growling that seemed to be encroaching faster than the seraphites could- their hellacious moans of plea ingrained into your memory. He tried to ready his bow, pulling an arrow from his quiver before your hand rose to stop him- hand securing around his wrist. 

You shook your head, pointing ahead to the glow of fire in the distance, the area was populated solely by seraphites now- seeing as the treaty fell through. That meant even the smallest noise that could indicate human life would be used as a call sign, sending the hunters out. With a group coming in from behind you and no way to go ahead, you nodded towards the right path, that being the only one seemingly uninhabited. You loosened your grip, urging him to take hold of Yara and run.

Yara nodded swiftly, understanding your plan wordlessly. It was just like that between you two, spending so much time together growing up- despite the age difference, you could read each other like a book. “May she protect you.” She spoke in a hushed whisper, coming to take hold of Lev and practically drag him away from you. She didn’t want to leave you, but she knew you wouldn’t take no for an answer, choosing to trust you knew a way out of this. 

“May she guide you.” You whispered, not loud enough for her to hear as you bolted towards the left, hearing a sharp whistle follow your movements. The goal was to make as much noise as possible, draw them as far as you could from Yara and Lev so they could find a safe place to hide out. They were the ones the elders wanted most of all, your collaboration being shaken off as rebellious youth. If you got caught, your punishment wouldn’t be half as bad as the torture that awaited them back home. 

The rain picked up, soaking through your clothes as you flew blindly through the trees. You could feel the branches snagging your clothes, causing rips in the loose material before you came to a sudden stop- the whistling seemingly coming to an end as you panted. It was quiet, not even the growling of demons permeating the tense overhang of silence, causing your stomach to lurch. They knew you were here, so where were they? 

You got your answer as you felt two arms wrap around your waist, pinning your arms to your side, causing your machete to fall to the damp forest floor. “We found an apostate!” A gruff voice shouted, making your ears ring, their fingers digging into your skin hard enough that you began to feel blood trickle. “No more running.” 

You stifled a scream, not wanting to give them the satisfaction. You knew this was bad, worse than bad actually, feeling another set of hands come to grip your left arm- allowing the first man to settle into the flesh of your right. You’d begun to make peace with the idea of dying tonight, your suffering surely ending in a much swifter way than they’d allow Lev or Yara. It was worth it, in your eyes, to die for such a cause. “The prophet abhors blind followers of evil.” You choked out, trying to dig your heels into the ground as they drug you back towards the fire. 

The man on the right snorted, almost choking on his spit as he laughed. “Don’t tell me what the prophet abhors, apostate.” He snarled, squeezing tighter as he pushed through a thick brush. “You hold no right to her words.” As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. Your ties to the prophet being cut when you chose to leave, to search for freedom elsewhere. 

They pushed a thick branch out of the way, the harsh orange firelight blinding you as they came to a stop before a woman you recognized as Helah. If there was one person you’d always be able to find in a crowd, it was her. From her spindly arms to the mass of dark hair pinned to her scalp, she’d always sent a chill down your spine, now more so- her focus being on a girl struggling to keep her feet on a bucket just a tad too short, a rope tightening around her thick neck. 

Her impossibly dark eyes settled on you as she turned, letting her knife fall to her side as she looked upon you in contempt. “You.” She spoke, tilting her head as she came closer. With every step she took towards you, you could slowly begin to make out the splatter of blood that burned her unnaturally pale face- making you shift uncomfortably in the men's arms, from what you could gather- these bodies were her doing. “Your mother begged us to find you, to save you from the demons.” 

You winced at the mention of your mother, imagining her falling to her knees before the elders- begging them to spare the only daughter she’d ever come to bring full term. You tried to shake off the thoughts, knowing this was her game, manipulation being her weapon of choice. You couldn’t let her get the high ground, not knowing what could possibly come of her supposed ‘mercy’ as allotted by the elders. “The only demons I need saving from are you people.”

One of the men kicked your legs out from under you, making you fall forward as they finally relinquished their grip on your arms. The feeling of the moist earth under you was an almost welcome sensation if it hadn’t been for the words you’d heard slipping from the lips of the woman standing above you now. 

“Clip her wings.”

A horrified scream was ripped from your throat as you tried to scramble off of the ground, motions halted by hands pushing you back down- cheek pressed roughly into the hard ground. You could feel the rocks digging into your skin as you tried to wriggle away, harsh sobs falling from your lips. As a last resort, you cast your eyes upward, coming to connect with the dangling girl. 

She looked on in gargled disbelief, face turning an unhealthy shade of red as she held your gaze. What did they mean by clipping your wings? It wasn’t something she’d ever heard of in passing during the time of the treaty. Her stomach lurched, as she watched you closely, almost forgetting the fact that she was also fighting for her life. Though, she couldn’t manage to tear her gaze away, the horror in your eyes sending shivers down her spine. In those moments, it felt like time moved in slow motion, watching as the repulsive-looking man brought down a massive hammer to the joint of your elbow. The screams embedded themselves into her chest, every shrill, ear-piercing noise committed to memory. 

You couldn’t breathe, the white-hot pain filling your entire body as you felt him hand off the hammer. The shock had sent your body into a primal shudder, twitching uncontrollably as you tried to conceptualize the pain- you had to get up. You had to get up now. Your working arm was held down in place, dirty nails cutting into your skin, leaving you to try to use your broken one as leverage. “Oh, god.” You whimpered, the pain shooting into your shoulder with every movement. 

Suddenly, the man’s hand on your wrist went limp- the large hammer coming to land with an obnoxious thump on the ground by your head. The newfound freedom giving you the chance to pull yourself away from the other man, hand securing on the fallen hammer. As you turned yourself around, you saw the man lying with an arrow poking out from the back of his head, though your curiosity was short-lived- attention being caught by the short, struggling breaths coming from behind you. 

The girl secured her legs around Helah’s throat, holding her in place as she struggled with catching small puffs of air. You stared in amazement for a moment before sense kicked back in, pushing yourself off of the ground. The pain took a backseat to the problem at hand, legs trembling under your weight as you used your remaining strength to swing the hammer to wedge into the woman's skull- seeing her instantly fall limp, the girl letting her fall to the ground as she relaxed her legs. 

“Help me.” The blonde wheezed, eyes beginning to roll back into her skull, face turning a sickly shade of blue. The bucket was long gone, lost in the struggle between her and Helah, causing her to swing haphazardly on the tensed rope. The world was beginning to dot in black, pupils tiny from the lack of oxygen. She didn’t even have to grab the woman, it was a choice she made in the moment- seeing the way she delighted in the suffering of a seemingly innocent girl. Maybe it was her conscious dictating her actions, or maybe, it was a nagging voice in the back of her head- telling her that if it was her, she’d like to think you do the same thing. How she could know that was beyond her, it didn’t make sense logically, but it was enough for her. 

You nodded quickly, hissing as you grabbed your broken arm in an attempt to not strain it anymore. You eased yourself onto the ground, feeling around under Helah’s body for the knife she’d been planning to use on the girl. “I’m sorry.” You huffed, stifled breaths breaking your words as you finally found the blade. You got back to your feet, wasting no time in your sawing of the thick rope. It came apart with a harsh snapping noise, sending the girl onto the ground hard. 

Yara bounded out of the darkness, your lost machete in hand as she looked at the two of you frantically. “Demons, we have to go!” She rushed, motioning to the path leading left, Lev following her lead as she pushed forward. Her eyes tried to avoid your limp arm, the discoloration seeping from your joint down to your fingertips, guilt overtaking her. 

You nodded, urging them to go, as you looked at the girl. “Are you okay?” It was simple, something so seemingly meaningless, but enough to convey the appreciation you felt towards her. She was the only reason you weren’t dead, feeling absolutely sure that Helah would’ve ended you before your friends could save you. 

She nodded, pulling the rope from around her neck before dipping down to jerk the hammer from the woman's skull. “Can you still run?” She asked, hearing the noises of infected closing in. The last thing she wanted was to let you die, seeing as she now felt just as indebted to you as you did her. 

“Yeah, yes. I think.” You grunted, pulling your lifeless arm to your chest as you gave her a curt nod. “We have to go, come on.” 

The blonde eyed you for a second before giving in, giving you a small nudge forward as she took off in the direction of what she assumed were your friends. She could hear your slowed footfalls behind her, making her cut her pace to let you pass her. If anything was to catch up, she could handle them- but in your state, you’d be too easily overtaken. 

It didn’t take long for the two kids to come into view, their bodies moving nimbly through the trees as they seemed to have a rendezvous spot in mind. You didn’t even consider asking about their plan, focusing solely on just making it there- the mind-numbing pain being the only source of drive you had left. You stumbled, feet getting caught up on a root that blended into the dark earth, acting just fast enough to catch yourself on a nearby tree, your arm falling limply to your side. 

“I can carry you if you need.” 

You shook off her offer, panting lightly before pushing forward- not even able to grab at your arm anymore. Every breath rattled your body, sending indescribable jolts of pain reverberating through your nervous system, if you’d not known any better you’d have assumed this was what dying felt like- but you’d always been classified as the dramatic type, so you tried not to dwell on it. “I can make it.” You attested, not fully believing your own words, but pushing forward nonetheless. 

The forest felt endless, from blindly following Yara’s lead to dodging infected spewing from unknown sources- it was like it was trapping you here. In a constant state of suspended terror, you dragged behind, feeling the burly girl's unrelenting aura looming over you with every step. She was different from the other wolves, you’d gathered in your short time with her, her attitude about your situation border lining empathy. It was something you’d never expect from her kind, having spent most of your life running from their old-world weapons. 

“Here!” Lev called behind to you, seeing your figure slowly encroaching on the two of them, he wanted to run back to help but restrained himself- seeing the shadows morph into fungus-ridden figures trailing after the pair of you, he nocked his bow in preparation. 

The girl ushered you forward, turning her back to you whilst you slid through behind Yara, allowing Lev to enter before she followed behind him- making sure no infected managed to come in behind the four of you. Her hair was sticking wildly to her face, eyes blown with adrenaline as she pushed herself through the hole. “Where from here?” She gasped, catching her breath as she peered around at the three of you standing at a fenced-in gap. 

Yara was inspecting your arm silently, leaving Lev to speak on her behalf. “The fence, it’s new, we have to go through there.” He explained, his bow remaining tense in his hands as he watched the girl carefully. 

She nodded, coming to kneel next to the fence. Her hands latched in the lattice holes, grunting slightly as she pulled the wire away from the pole. She managed to get it loose, holding it open for the three of you to pass. 

“Go ahead.” You halted Yara, pushing her gently towards the exit, not giving her the option to object. Her eyes lingered on your arm before giving a hesitant step towards the hole in the fence, giving it a once over before getting down on her hands and knees to crawl through. “Lev, you next.” He bore no hesitation, following Yara’s motions. 

You bent down next to the girl, ducking your head through the hole and using your feet to push yourself out to the other side, hearing her mutter a soft ‘watch your arm’ unconsciously. You heeded her words and pulled the limb to your chest, holding it firmly in place as you found your footing again, only to be grabbed by a force strong enough to rival that of what you imagined a god could. A choked scream passed through your lips, cut off by the neckline of your shirt coming to press uncomfortably around your throat- whoever had you was using the fabric of your shirt to dangle you just above the ground. 

“Goddamn it, leave her alone!” Her gruff voice rang out, finally wriggling herself free from the fencing, coming to bring the hammer down on the person's knuckles. It was enough for them to release you, letting you fall to your feet, their attention now solely on the wolf. Something she didn’t mind, her abilities lying mainly in her uncanny strength, as you’d come to notice. She took in the massive woman, eyes zeroing on the straps of an oh-so-familiar bag that hung on her back- practically straining against her massive shoulders. It lit a fire in her, her fingers tensing over the handle of the hammer- tilting her head slightly. “Is that my fucking backpack?” She shouted, quickly dodging out of the way of her massive pick, and taking a few stunned steps back.

You stumbled away from the pair, whipping around just as Lev let an arrow fly- landing in the woman's shoulder- sharpened stone burying itself in the muscle, giving the wolf a moment to strike. It was like watching feral dogs fight, strike- yelp- strike. They both had the strength to overpower normal people, but when paired together it was one immovable force meeting another. 

The girl locked her hand in the strap of the backpack, jerking the woman back just as she struck- hammer embedded in her skull. It was like destroying a sand castle, her body crumbling right before you in a mass of blood and muscle, it took one hit. “Fucking hell.” She hissed, kneeling down beside the woman’s body to strip her of the backpack that was rightfully hers- not hesitating to retrieve the hammer either. “We almost there?” 

Yara nodded quickly, pointing towards a building marked with a large seraphite symbol. “I-it should be right through there,” She began, glancing around nervously, anticipating the arrival of more soldiers- or worse wolves. “We have to hurry, she might not make it much further.” 

The words sent a pang of guilt into your stomach, causing you to shake your head. “I’m fine, I promise. I can make it.” You assured, glancing over to the bloodied girl, not letting your eyes linger for too long. You didn’t want to be seen as a burden, even now with a lame arm, you could still keep going- you had to. It wasn’t for lack of trying, that your convincing words fell through, no it was the sight of your now blood-red fingers peeking out from your shirt sleeve that caused the three of them to share a look of concern. “Let’s go, now, before they catch up.” 

The wolf stayed close behind you, eyes trained on the crimson of your fingers as she racked her brain for a possible explanation. Her father being a doctor meant nothing in the long run, leaving her with a basic knowledge of injuries, not nearly enough to account for what had happened to you. “How’s the arm?” She hummed, not wanting to bother you too much in case her presence began to cause you to recoil from her, seeing how differently you two were. 

“Bearable.” You managed, doing anything to not think about the numbness that had begun to creep into your arm. You knew it wasn’t a good sign, seeing as normally when you got injuries- even bad ones, they continued to hurt. This was a new sensation, one that sent a dread-filled ball into your stomach. “Thank you, by the way.” You added, your dull eyes coming up to meet hers as you pushed a bramble push to the side so you could pass. 

She chuckled, the noise lightening the mood for a moment, shaking her head in disbelief. “Don’t mention it.” She spoke quietly, coming to a stop in front of the warehouse ledge, lifting herself effortlessly onto the platform before turning to you- offering her hand. “Can I ask a question?” It was something she hadn’t been able to shake, the idea of ‘wing clipping’ being something regularly used in scar life, she wanted to gain perspective- though after she asked, she realized how bad a time this might be. 

You took her help gratefully, scaling the wall with minimal effort. Once your feet were back on solid ground you nodded at her, using your good arm to pull your lame one close to your body, trying not to hit it on anything. It had gotten easier to deal with the arm, though you’d begun feeling an uncomfortable chill creeping up your spine as the minutes dragged on. “Ask away.” You prompted, watching as she took hold of the latch- pulling the heavy metal off of the ground so the three of you could slide in under the door.

“Do the scars clip wings.. a lot?” She spoke once you’d all made it under, letting the heavy door fall closed with a ridiculously loud bang. Her hands came to her pants legs, wiping off the rust that had detached from the old metal, leaving red stains on the taut cargo. 

The words made you shudder unconsciously, the flashes of burning hot pain plaguing your memory. For something so recent, you could’ve sworn this ache was ancient, rattling even the strongest pieces of your will. “Seraphites, and,” You paused, shaking off the unwelcome recollections. “It’s not the go-to method of punishment if that’s what you’re asking.” It was mainly true, wing clipping being reserved only for the apostates they had no will to kill. Their goal was to maim them enough that they wouldn’t consider disobeying again, and usually, it worked. “It’s reserved for the ones the council decides to spare.”

Her brows knitted together, “Spare?” From her viewpoint, this seemed worse than death, the bones surely crushed into powder by the sheer amount of times she man brought the hammer down onto the joint. The memory made her want to crawl out of her skin, hammer suddenly feeling much heavier, the screams being the worst thing she’d ever heard in her life. “This is what they consider sparing people?” She wanted to say more but stopped herself, not understanding why she cared so much about the goings of scars. 

“I’m just glad to be alive.”

She nodded, finding that a good enough reason to drop the conversation there. “Grab any supplies you find, okay?” 

Lev almost choked on his own spit, looking at Yara and then at you. “We can’t touch this stuff, it’s old world.” His words hung in the air between you as you gave him a half-shrug. His mouth snapped shut before he turned on his heel, using the tip of an arrow to move stuff on the tables around- your reply wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but he didn’t dare to fight against it. 

You came to stand with Yara, her hands trembling as she thumbed through different stacks of old material. “You okay?” You hummed, swallowing thickly as her glossy eyes met your own, indicating she was nowhere near it. She was such a strong girl, pushing aside her emotions for the sake of others. She was so good at it, it had become her fatal flaw. 

She nodded curtly, dropping her eyes back down to the sheets of fabric, stuffing them in her pocket haphazardly. “I’m sorry, sister.” She whispered, doing everything in her power to keep her voice steady. “I went back for your machete, I... I thought I’d be able to get to you in time.” She turned on her heel, coming to face you fully, tears brimming her dark eyes. “I was wrong.”

The sight made your stomach twist into knots, free arm coming to wrap around her shoulders gently- pulling her small frame into your chest. She’d been the sister you needed through childhood, becoming the closest thing to blood you had besides your mother. It crushed you to hear her blame herself for something that should've never had to happen, the blame falling on the group you’d once thought was home. “She sees your love, she doesn’t blame you. Neither do i.” You hummed, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid letting the brimming tears escape, ignoring the faint feeling that had crept into your head as you held her.

A cough drew you from the embrace, causing you to turn in response- the movement almost knocking you off of your feet. “We found a way forward, might even be a couple places to rest.” The wolf spoke, nodding towards a door Lev stood by, seeing it barely hanging onto its hinges as rain droplets slowly raced down the corrupted frame. “Are you feeling okay?” She spoke suddenly, not letting you fit a word in before stepping forward, the back of her hand coming in contact with your forehead. 

You almost took a step backward, your heart jumping into your throat at the heat of her touch. It felt like she was on fire, her skin burning into yours as she spared Yara a nervous glance. “What’s wrong, why are you so hot?” You asked, tearing away from her touch with a slight tremble in your legs. You brought your own hand up, pressing it to your forehead in the same manner she had- pulling away quickly, finding your hand coated in sweat. 

“You have a fever, we need to get you out of here, now.” She pushed forward, not letting you object as she scooped you into her arms- careful to not crush your arm further. This was something she knew wasn’t a good sign, meaning you’d contracted an infection or worse. 

The sudden change left your head spinning, the body heat radiating off of the girl making you uncomfortably hot as you writhed in her arms, fighting in a sense. Not against her but against her unbearable heat, though in your eyes currently- they were one and the same. “You’re so hot, wolf, I can't breathe.” You knew she wasn’t doing this out of malice, quite the opposite actually, but sense evaded you in your current state. 

She pushed through the doorway, eyes locking on a trailer on the far side of the yard- her feet picking up pace as she held you firmly in place. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” She managed, on any other day she would’ve made some tasteless joke about her being hot, but she settled on this not being the time for it. She could feel your body shuddering, still trying to fight off her warmth as she practically broke down the trailer door- kicking it open so hard it left a door knob-sized hole in the panel wall. 

Lev followed closely behind her, closing the door behind Yara to avoid drawing any more attention. “Is she gonna be okay?” He asked gingerly, putting his bow to rest on the dusty countertop. He knew the wolf didn’t seem like a healer, so she probably wouldn't know, but it was worth it to at least ask. 

The girl gently let your body press into the moth-eaten couch, her arms sliding from beneath you with ease. “Can I?’ She asked, nodding to your arm, seeing the purple tint your fingers had taken on in the time it had taken the four of you to get out of the woods. A nod was all she needed, her hands coming to your arm. 

One hand held your wrist, and the other pushed the linen of your tattered long-sleeved shirt up past your elbow. As the extent of your injury came to the light, nobody moved. The air felt stale, not even a ragged breath cutting through the anxious silence. You glanced down, the sight drawing a sharp gasp from your mouth, dark red pigmented your skin down to your fingers, which now took on a darker more purple hue. It looked like something a child would draw, devoid of all sense of tone, hung high in some disease-ridden home. 

“I can set it, That might help.” The wolf spoke, eyes betraying her thoughts as she glanced up at you, trying to make it less scary. If maybe by some miracle this could work, she’d try just about anything. “Let me do that, okay?”

You didn’t even think to object, giving her a tiny nod. “Yara, the cloth.” You spoke, looking between her at the girl. “That would help, right?” You checked, having the most inept idea of healing from your time spent sneaking around the healer's hut for herbs. 

Yara dug into her pockets, drawing out a handful of thick strips of cloth- immediately placing them into the hands of the girl. “I can go find more if we need more.” She rushed, watching closely as the girl turned them in her hands. 

She nodded, “This is perfect, thank you.” She gave the younger girl a tight-lipped smile, kneeling beside the couch. She brought the chair leg to rest on her knee, popping the fabric on top of it, as she placed her hands at the wrist and just above the elbow. This was going to hurt, a lot, and the only way she could think to do it- was by distracting you. “What’s your name?” 

“It’s-,” You began, only to be met with a harsh crack and a searing pain filling your arm. From your fingers to your shoulder, it felt like someone had sent you through initiation again, fire licking at your skin. “-My god!” You hissed in response, a choked sob escaping your trembling lips. 

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts.” She shushed gently, letting your arm come to rest on the cushions as she picked the chair leg up- fitting it to your arm. “You’re gonna be okay-?” She drew out, waiting for you to finish your previous sentence 

“(y/n), my n-name is (y/n).” You forced through the pain, breathing labored as you felt her secure the wood to your arm- straightening it permanently to let it heal. You had no idea if it would work, but you chose to trust her, not considering the fact that she might have just been lying for the sake of your comfort. “What’s yours?” 

She smiled slightly, finishing up her work, letting her forearms come to rest on her knee. “Abby.” It was like some switch inside of her had flipped, all thoughts of her original reason for coming out here being lost in her subconscious, heart jumping with anxious beats at the idea of leaving the three of you here- but she had to go, much to her dismay.

“Abby.” You repeated sluggishly, getting a feel for it on your lips, earning a small chuckle from her. “Thank you, Abby.” 

Abby stood, glancing between the two kids standing off to the side- looking visibly relieved. “I have to go, try not to make any noise. '' She warned, knowing the wolves had not cleared this area of infected yet. If they needed to be scared of anyone, it was the flesh-hungry infected that ran these woods. The ache to stay threatened her chest, forcing her to move faster. She pushed out of the door, halting on the wet steps as she turned on her heel- coming face to face with the boy she now knew as Lev. 

“Listen, kid. Whatever shape she’s in, you need to be out of here by tomorrow.” Her words came out rushed, her hand digging into the door frame as she loomed over him, watching as his lips set into a thin line. She didn’t know what else to say, already conflicted enough, so she just took a step back. “Don’t let her die because you wanted to be a hero.” 

╰╮later

The night passed in a blur of delusion-filled hallucinations, the pain creeping back into you when you least expected it. So when the light of morning poured through the tattered curtains, you thanked the prophet for the ability to even see another day- having thought many times you’d just die with the next flutter of your eyelids. 

“Here, drink this.” Yara hummed, holding a small water bottle up beside your head- waiting for you to part your now chapped lips. Her hands shook slightly, letting the liquid drip out of the bottle slowly to avoid making you choke. She’d not slept, spending the night hovering over you just to be sure you were still breathing, making her even more cautious in her pouring. 

You swallowed the water gratefully, feeling the ache in your throat dull slightly with the moisture. “Thank you, but really, try to rest before we have to leave.” You pleaded, eyes glossed over with the usual maternal worry you reserved for the siblings. “It’s gonna-,” 

Your words were cut off by the door swinging open, Yara immediately reaching for Lev’s bow on the counter her hands moved faster than you could follow, nocking an arrow and letting it fly in just seconds before a familiar voice called out from behind the door. ‘It’s me!” They began, slowly coming around the corner, face flushed. 

Yara let out a stressed breath, watching Lev rise from his sleep with a confused expression on his face. “On the prophet, have you heard of knocking?” She huffed, letting the bow fall back onto the counter as she crossed the room to collect Lev’s (definitely broken) arrow. 

“Abby?” You spoke quietly, voice hoarse as you gazed up at her approaching form, her name still feeling foreign on your lips. “What are you doing here?” 

The blonde shook her head shortly, kneeling down by the edge of the couch- leveling with you, letting her gaze rake over the sickly flush of your face. “You deserve a shot, (y/n).” She spoke, bringing a hand to rest on your uninjured one tenderly. “I’m here to give you one.”

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