lingering oil

No Rain

Written for prompt #14: “I’d love to read a story where either K or P has done something stupid and has to grovel (but not infidelity)…” [submitted by Anonymous]

Written by: @ally147writes

I kinda put my own skew on this, but I hope the prompter (and everyone else!) enjoys it regardless.

As with everything I post, I have grand plans to add onto this and give it more oomph. So you’ll have to pardon the abrupt ending - I could think of literally nothing to add that wouldn’t have meant another 10k words…

Unbeta’d and written over a month, late at night in between uni assessments. I can’t vouch for the quality of this fic, but I had a ton of fun writing it :)

Rated T, mostly just for swears.

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On Saturdays

It was not the alarm, or the sunlight pouring through the windows that woke her, but the sound of the rain as it pounded on the roof and windows.  Lexa stretched, rubbing her legs against the soft sheets of the bed.  She curled herself around the body next to her, rubbing her hands over the supple curves of hips and breasts, as she kissed the smooth skin of her wife’s back.  She smiled, inhaling the faint scent of soap and moisturizer that clung to Clarke, sweeter than any perfume.

Lexa rubbed her feet against Clarke’s, humming contentedly.  It was finally Saturday, and after a work week full of meeting, deadlines, on-call and seemingly endless shifts, Lexa finally had her wife to herself.  Lexa lived for Saturdays.  She reveled in being able to lie in bed with Clarke, with no thoughts wasted on alarm clocks, morning commutes or getting to work on time.  Saturdays were reserved exclusively for them, for slow, soft kisses that went on for hours, and lovemaking that paid no mind to schedules.  Saturdays were Lexa’s Sabbath, and Clarke’s body, the temple at which she worshiped.  Worshiping properly took as long as it took on Saturdays.

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I should take them off, shouldn’t I?

Pure smut for @for-the-love-of-dean, as a very belated birthday fic.

John x named!reader, the reader is called Amanda ‘cause this is for her.

Amanda prompted me with this line: “My eyes are the only thing I don’t want to take off of you.”

And I worked in this excellent NSFW imagine by @manawhaat, who kindly and amazingly agreed to beta this utter filth.

Warnings: NSFW gif below the cut, smut, dom!John, sub!reader, super light bondage, little bit of praise!kink, edging, sir!kink, unprotected sex (wrap up in real life guys).

Tags: @jinnythegreat @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @katnharper @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @deandoesthingstome @adriellej @crowley-trash @kittenofdoomage @aprofoundbondwithdean @sunriserose1023 @crzcorgi @classy-sassyandsmartassy @mrswhozeewhatsis @faith-in-dean @icecream-and-gadreel

Originally posted by elbereth-g

“The shoes are too much, right?” You looked yourself up and down in the mirror of the motel room, before looking over your shoulder at John,“I should take them off, shouldn’t I?” You motioned to your feet. You were certain as you said it, you didn’t need heels to bait a werewolf, the dress made you irresistible all on it’s own. It was a sexy little number, a deep shade of midnight blue that hugged your curves and revealed your toned legs. Those legs that served you well as a hunter didn’t need heels to stand out. Besides, if you had to run, flats were a much better option, and during your first hunt with the legendary Winchester, you didn’t want to risk anything and make a fool of yourself.

His hazel eyes, clouded with hunger, scanned your form from where he sat at the table, plastic cup of whiskey in his hand, his gun freshly oiled and polished on the table in front of him. John’s jaw clenched, his grasp tightening around the cup he’d surely crush if he kept on squeezing.

“Sweetheart,” his gruff voice rumbled from deep in his firm chest, "my eyes are the only thing I don’t want to take off of you.”

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HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!

Here is a drabble I wrote for my lovely friend Bambi @thongiin I hope you guys enjoy it!


Home.

It’s the first day of the new year and Kyungsoo pulls into the driveway. He steps out of the vehicle and grabs his olive green duffle bag from the backseat. The numbness in his fingers dull and he begins to feel the rough strap in his hand, weighed down by the numerous clothes inside. His heavy strides trail up the driveway and onto the front porch. The house is dark, not a soul awake and no illumination slithering through the curtains. With his free hand, he brings the key to the lock and turns it.

He steps inside and onto the small woolen ‘Welcome’ mat situated in front of the door. Immediately, his nose catches the aromas of familiarity and warmth. It smells of lingering scents of peanut oil, cooked vegetables and rice. Kyungsoo smiles as he thinks of what Jongin must have eaten only hours ago.

Soundlessly, he places the bag near the door, and turns on the lamp resting on the end table beside the couch. His eyes roam around a living room which essentially looks as he remembers, but with small differences.

The tall plant that was once in the corner of the room, is now replaced with a shorter shrub within a royal blue vase. Colorful blankets are folded neatly and draping over the top of the cream colored couch. There’s a new television set of a 65-inch flat screen and surround sound system that is ten times better than the measly 19-inch and speaker that stood there before.

He walks further inside, his steps becoming shaky in excitement, and waves of anxiety rumbling through his bones. He hasn’t seen Jongin in so long and everything feels so surreal to be back after deployment. His combat boots clack against the white oak floor that makes up the corridor toward the bedroom.

As he grows closer, he sees the dim golden light from a lamp peeking from underneath the small crack of the door. The faint sounds of Jongin’s snoring drifts to his ears and he snickers quietly. It brings along a memory of Jongin strictly claiming that he’s not one to snore, and here it is so blaringly obvious that he does. With his hand on the knob, Kyungsoo takes a deep breath before pushing the door open.

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Kalashipping Fanfic - Malasada Madness (Hau x Sun)

here is my donation to Kalashipping: a fanfiction!

while I was making this I came up with another Kala prompt so rip that might get done soon too (god bless my other fics in the making)

but anyways, hope you enjoy this one! Read more here or head to fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12243161/1/

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the signs as moments
  • Aries: sitting by a campfire and smelling the woodsmoke, the smudge of it in your eyes; the night coolness on your back, the warmth on your front. distantly, the roar of the sea. overhead a thousand stars, the crescent of a gentle moon.
  • Taurus: walking through silent halls in noisy shoes, the clack of heels echoing off the marble walls. standing in front of a tintoretto, deep reds and browns, the lingering scent of ancient oil point. pale, pearlescent light drifting through rain-splashed windows.
  • Gemini: sitting on a hill in early summer. someone near you, too vibrant to look at. blue skies, warm earth, the smell of fresh-shorn grass. in the distance a frowst of stormclouds churning forward. sitting until the first fat drops of hot rain touch your skin, running for the shelter of pine forest with hands clutched together. a sudden kiss that tastes of rain.
  • Cancer: clipping fat pink tea roses off of a thorny bush. a wicker basket hooked on the arm, shears sticky with resin. the sweet, intoxicating scent of roses, inducing a state of drowsiness. sitting in the sun wearing a straw hat, sipping lemonade from a frosted glass, touching soft rose petals.
  • Leo: loud music, the bass in your chest. bare legs, feet aching in high heels, drinking sugary alcoholic drinks with strangers, telling ridiculous jokes. dancing with your eyes closed, freely, without caring who looks and without needing anyone else. a raw throat from screaming with joy.
  • Virgo: sleeping on clean linen sheets, reaching out to touch someone else's warm, soft skin. hands on inner thighs, soft breaths against the private skin on the back of the neck. softer gasps and sleepy kisses. laying overlapped on someone else's body, full of contentment, watching the breeze gently lift lace curtains.
  • Libra: crouching down in the snow, a dog bounding up with slavering kisses, body vibrating with a wagging tail. footprints behind you in deep snow, cheeks pink with cold. watching a red cardinal move from branch to branch in the naked trees, then lift into the sky, frightened by the joy of the dog below. your fingertips wet in your gloves, warmed by a paper cup of hot cocoa.
  • Scorpio: eating outrageously spicy food and drinking ice-cold beer, wading into blue water whispering over pearly white sand. diving head-first into the sea, tasting salt, sand in everything. floating in the water, watching the sun set in a blaze of colour, a flock of birds in silhouette.
  • Sagittarius: flirting with a stranger, stealing a kiss. learning the shape of their hands, drawing their eyes in the margins of the page. the smell of graphite, their laugh on seeing their own stare. a swollen feeling in the chest that is contentment, unrealized until it suddenly disappears. remembering memories.
  • Capricorn: a hot bath that smells of lemon, lingering until the water gets cool, mounds of bubbles and a glittering bath bomb. reading an entire book in an hour, the turned pages parked by wrinkled wet fingerprints. a glass of wine on the edge of the tub, smiling when someone comes in to join you.
  • Aquarius: legs and arms burning, rough branches under palms, climbing into the leafy embrace of an unfamiliar tree and sitting back, being able to see further into the distance than was possible on the ground. finding a fat green caterpillar nearby, frightening a robin from the branches above you. the smell of green growing things, a soft wind supporting you.
  • Pisces: wandering through an old bookstore to find a red plush armchair, sitting down with a stack of books that should not be bought but must be read. day waning into night as foreign lands are explored and epic battles are fought. the air smells like old paper, the distinctly perfect smell of aging tomes. in the end, buying every book because the store is about to close.
  • ((check your sun, moon, and/or venus))

REQUEST: He finds out you faked an orgasm

** This was posted on my nocontroloverlouistomlinson blog **

MASTERLIST | LOUIS BLOG | LOUIS MASTERLIST | ASK BOX - COMMENT - REQUEST |

“Louis, head up.”

His eyes cracked open instantly once he felt Lou’s hand on his chin, tilting his head up so she had better access to the fringe at the front of Louis’ head. He could still feel the sting from the lack of sleep behind his eyes and as the light from the mirror hit his orbs, he felt like closing them back up and falling back into a needed nap. A nap before he was needed out on stage to pick up their award for Best British Group at the Brits - with hopes they win it again as a nice end to the first chapter of the band’s story.

“Sorry. Sorry. M’just a bit tired,” he mumbled, a yawn leaving his lips as Lou ran the pink comb through his hair. As he looked to you through the mirror, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the activities carried out by the two of you just last night. A bottle of wine brought from the Sainsburys on the high street. New lingerie on your body once he arrived home. The material waiting to be ripped from your skin. Candles lit around the room and releasing a strong vanilla scented aroma into the bedroom. And a few new unopened boxes of condoms in the bedside drawer on Louis’ nightstand, waiting to be used. It was a night of luxury that was needed for both of you.

With the stresses of winning the Brit award they’d been nominated for and the extreme pressure building upon your shoulders, a relaxing night in with just the company of one another was essential for you both to unwind. Because you knew how Louis liked to unwind. And he knew how you liked to unwind after a busy few days in your office.

“You’ve got bags under your eyes. Let’s just hope Lottie can hide these purple marks, hm? She seems to have done a good job on (Y/N),” Lou stated, her head looking directly towards where Lottie was standing beside your sitting figure. Your eyes turned down to the magazine in your hands, your lips moving each time as you read the sentences in front of you. “How late where you up?”

A smirk lifted at his lips.

By the time you had settled down comfortably in bed the previous night, a pair of boxers upon his body and the new lingerie set upon your own body, it was nearing the nine o’clock in the evening mark. His body was glistening under the light of the room - the lamp on your bedside table turned on - as he laid on top of the duvet, a knee bent with his foot flat against the cotton. An arm was bent and rested behind his head as his eyes stayed tuned to the highlights of the Man U and Derby game that had played earlier that evening, a game he had missed unfortunately. The smell of massage oil lingered in the air, your hands feeling moisturised after you gave Louis a half an hour massage to relieve his aching shoulders.

It wasn’t long before he had a thigh hitched over your body, his knees either side of you as he hovered above you with his lips and his face dangerously close to your own. His breath warm and minted as it fanned across your face. A tent had formed in his boxers, a bulge poking at your pelvic bone as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you, ready for a night of amorous activities that would be sure to keep the neighbours awake.

“It wasn’t that late. We ended up falling asleep around 1ish. (Y/N) insisted we watched a film because she wasn’t sleepy,” Louis said softly, pinching at his nose lightly before bringing his fist to his eyes. “How long are these award shows? I really need a nap,” he whispered, more to himself but earning a soft laugh from Lou as she placed her hairspray and pink comb down upon the dresser in front of Louis’ sitting figure.

“It’s only about two hours, you can make it. There’ll be alcohol on the tables and I’m sure the atmosphere will wake you up,” Lou smiled, waving Liam over to have his buzzcut hairstyle seen too. “Up you get then. Lottie’s done with your lady now so you can go and get your eyes touched up.”

He stood from the chair as Liam approached the two of them, a smirk on his own lips as he pointed to Louis’ neck. An amused laugh leaving Liam’s mouth as he took a seat in the chair and proceeded to let Lou touch up his hair.

“Alright, I know. My girlfriend got crazy. You should see the ones I left on her-”

“Louis Tomlinson, don’t you dare,” you warned, taking a seat beside Harry on the sofa in the corner of the room. A plastic cup of water in his hands as he looked up from his phone with a smile.

“Hi love. You looking forward to this?” Harry wondered, locking his phone and setting it between where his thighs met. “It’s been forever since you’ve come to an award show with us. We miss your stupid antics during the breaks,” he laughed, nudging his arm against yours. The last award show you attended was the AMA’s a few years back when everything was kicking off with them and they were beginning to crack the American continent - an award show Louis had insisted he took you too because he classed it as a milestone in his life, that he wanted you to experience with him.

“I’m just excited to see you win your award,” you smiled, shifting on your cushion and turning your body to face Harry, your back slightly towards where Louis was in deep conversation with Lottie. “Harry, can I- Can I talk to you about something? Like, you’re my best friend and I can’t go talk to anyone else. Liam will lecture me, and Niall, well, Niall will laugh and will no doubt go and tell Louis,” you sighed, looking to where the blonde boy was standing in the corner with Lux on his hip, his hips swaying.

“What’s up, love? You know I don’t kiss and tell,” he winked.

“I just, last night, me and Louis kind of ya’know, we had sex and we had a bit of a late night but, like, I feel really bad and I haven’t told him because he’ll freak out and -”

“You faked an orgasm, didn’t you?” Harry smirked, your cheeks flushing heavily as you looked down at your lap. Your fingers twiddling with one another as you refused yourself to look at the guy sitting beside you. Heat flushing your face. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed over. You think I reach orgasms all the time?”

“I love you n’all but I really don’t want to talk about your sex life, Harry, but, yeah. I kind of faked an orgasm last night and I feel really guilty and he’s going to feel a kick in his self esteem and I’m the worst girlfriend,” you mumbled.

It wasn’t anything to get back at Louis - because sex or making out with Louis was forever your favourite past-time when the two of you were home together, in the comforts of your own home with no company around. Without the fear of someone walking in on you and catching you in an act that would make the culprit want to sit in a shower and try to erase the images. It was the sense of not feeling up for it that had made you unable to reach your high at the same time that Louis had, the condom filling up before you could tell him you hadn’t reached anything in achievement - his face scrunching in lust as his hips continued to thrust, your pretentious moans enough for him to know you had supposedly reached your high.

Pretending to have an orgasm was tough with a boyfriend like Louis, because if he knew, he would feel his esteem in bed lower because he wasn’t able to get you to where he wanted you to get. No orgasm meant he had fulfilled the pleasure you were expecting and you knew it would bite away at his insides as he continued to tell you it was okay.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Just, don’t tell him and it’ll be fine, yeah? I know that is rubbish advice but it’s better to think nothing more of it than freaking out over his reaction. If it’s bothering you that much, I’m sure if you sat him down and told him, he’d be okay with it,” Harry reasoned, his hand squeezing your knee softly. “It might even end in you getting some sex in the end.”

“Hm. Yeah. Alright. You keep smirking and I think you’re finding this amusing, so I’m going to stop talking about this now,” you smiled, looking into Harry’s green eyes. “Thanks for helping though. You’re amazing with advice, you know.”

“I know. I know.”

* *

“We won! We actually won the award,” Louis grinned out, as he jogged down the carpet and into your open arms. His body launching into yours as he hugged you tightly, his chin resting against your shoulder. “You’re my good luck charm. I’m bringing you everywhere with me now, okay? You’re stuck with me,” he whispered, his voice slurring slightly from the amount of alcohol he had consumed through the night. Three bottles of beer later along with a few glasses of champagne and he was stumbling on his feet and swaying from side to side.”I think I should take you home right now and celebrate in our own way. What do you say?”

“I think that sounds amazing,” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck. “You’ve done me proud. I could reward you in a special way, ya’know? It’s all about you,” you grinned, nudging your nose against the hollow of his cheeks.

“All about me, hm? What am I to be expecting?”

“I can give you whatever you desire, baby. You can have my mouth, my hand, anything. Yeah?”

A swift nod was given in excitement as you made your way to your seats, reaching for your bag as Louis grabbed his coat. The boys all stood with smirks on their lips as they shrugged their own coats over their shoulders, and downing the last of their beers. A loud bellowing laugh coming from Niall as he clapped Louis on the back and leaned over to him, his Irish accentuated voice coming across stronger.

“We’ll let you have a cab t’ yourself, mate. In case you want t’ start your party early,” he teased, squeezing Louis’ shoulders as he caught a glimpse of your blushing cheeks. “See you later, love. It’s been great t’ see you again. I miss you,” Niall smiled, making his way around Louis to stand in front of you, his arms wrapping your body in a tight hug.

“I miss you too, Ni. I’ll be sure to pop round more when me and Louis have the time. We’re thinking of refurbishing the kitchen,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to Niall’s stubbly cheek. His skin rough against your lips. “Obviously, you are free to come round at any time. We’re always stocked up on beers and snacks and I’m sure Louis would love for you to come over to watch the footie games on occasions. I’m not a very good football partner,” you giggled, squeezing Niall to your body.

“I’m thinkin’ of having a party soon. Just a little get together with everyone,” Niall smiled, taking you under his arm as you followed the other boys out of the O2 arena room. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to Louis. He seems to be having withdrawal symptoms from you.”

And with that, his warmth left your body and was instantly replaced with a snuggle from Louis as he placed an arm around your shoulders.

“They’re definitely getting some later,” Harry murmured to Niall, a chuckle leaving his lips. “She never reached her orgasm last night so I’m sure Louis will pound her pretty hard tonight. I’m just glad I’m not staying at theirs tonight,” he slurred, his lips close to Niall’s ear but loud enough for you and Louis to hear their conversation - a conversation you didn’t want Louis to hear and a conversation you had regretted having with Harry.

“Is it true?”

As you looked up to Louis, his eyes were cast to the ground and his jaw was clenched as he refused to look at you as you gave him no reply to his question. His arm slid from around you and fell to his side as he quickened his pace and tried to hardest to gain some distance between the two of you. A sigh leaving your lips as you jogged up beside him - something you’d found difficult in your heels.

“Louis-”

“Don’t. I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to go home,” he mumbled, a grunt leaving his lips as he pushed open the door and let the cold air from the outside flush over his skin. “Can we just, can we talk about it at home, (Y/N)? It’s already embarrassing to have you tell me mates,” he added, a hint of annoyance in his voice as he looked to where the taxi was located.

“Louis-”

“I said, not now. When we get home. Please don’t make me angrier,” he hissed, pulling open the taxi door and climbing it. Leaving it open for you to climb in after him, the boys standing to the side as they watched you bicker at one another. “I honestly can’t believe you. You faked an orgasm when I thought I had pleasured you enough. What the hell? And then you have the nerve to tell my best friends and not me,” he muttered, his face turned to the window as he watched the scenery outside pass by.

“I didn’t mean too. I was nervous. I knew you’d react badly to the news and I didn’t want to ruin the night, but it was eating me alive and I just needed to tell someone,” you whispered.

“And that someone being my best friend? Not me? I’m your boyfriend!”

“I know. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. I was nervous. I’ve never faked one before and it scared me because I know you hate the idea of not pleasuring me enough,” you mumbled, looking across to him as he puffed out a heavy breath and watched the window steam up. “I’m sorry, Louis. I am. I love you and I don’t know why I faked. I was tired and you were so good and you reached it before I did, and-”

“You’re in for a treat when we get home, baby. It’s the time where you may need to use the safe word and it’s the time where things are about to get rough,” he whispered darkly, his throat catching as he turned to look at his. His blue eyes darker and bolder in the darkness of the taxi. “I hope you’re prepared. Because, this is punishment for faking orgasms and not telling me.”

2

Imagine: Dean explaining why he doesn’t give you a pet name.

Dean X Reader (OneShot)

I walked into the garage with a chilled beer in both hands. Dean stood up from bending over underneath the hood. He wiped his hands on grease rag still completely focused on what he was working on. I leaned against the car, gaze unabashedly lingering on the oil scuffs along his toned arms. He put the tag back and you held out the beer before he could dive back into the project. He finally tore his eyes from the car to the beer, then to me. He smiled affectionately sending my heart into a fluttering mess. I silently swore never to mention the affect that look had on you.

“Thanks.” He took the bottle and took a long gulp. His head tilted back exposing his throat where beads of sweat slipped down the muscular lines that lead to collarbones hidden under his shirt.

“How’s it going?” I asked trying to not get too worked up.

He looked back at his work with a boyish grin. “Not too bad. Baby’ll be up in running in no time.”

I frowned. I adored the way Dean loved his car, but… part of me was disappointed. He never refer to me by anything, but my name. It’s not like I really preferred pet names, but for some reason I found myself thinking about it. I glanced at Dean. Already he was intently focused on something under the hood only pausing to take a swig of beer.

“Hey Dean…?”

“Hm?”

“How come… not that I care or anything, but… how come you never call me ‘baby’?” I asked studying the label on the bottle.

He stood up. I could feel his eyes on me as I started to peel the label.

“Do you want me to call you ‘baby’?” His voice was incredulous.

“N-no. I don’t know. I was just wondering.”

“I guess I’m not a pet name kind of guy.” He moved from in front of the car wiping his hands off again. He stopped by my side, but I didn’t look up.

“You call Baby ‘baby’.” I said quietly.

“Are you jealous of Baby?” He tossed the rag across the garage.

“No,” I shot him an exasperated look. “It’s just, we’ve been dating a while now and you just say my name like you always have. It’s like nothings really changed. Like no one would casually know we’re together.”

“I’m not going to call you ‘baby’ or whatever else.”

Disappointment crashed into my chest. “O-oh. Okay.”

Dean placed his hand on the car frame behind me. He took the beer out of my hands and put in on the top of the car, then placed his other hand on the car as well cornering me against the door. He leaned down till his breath tickled my ear. The warm heady scent of sweat mingled with the crisp beer on his breath.

“I’m going to say your name because it belongs to you.”

He whispered sending goosebumps prickling over my skin. His lips brushed against the lobe of my ear instantly making my thighs squeeze together. My name fell from his lips sounding nothing like I remembered it sounding. It sounded like sex and sin. I shivered closing my eyes.

“I’m going to say your name,” he paused, hot breath washing over my ear and neck. I held back a groan. “because it means you.”

His lips pressed against my neck where my pulse beat wildly. I gasped softly.

“It’s sexy, like you.” He placed another lingering kiss lower this time.

“It’s strong, like you.” His lips went lower pressing right where my collarbone met my shoulder. I bit my lip digging my fingers into his arms.

“It’s special, like you.” His lips parted and he gave my skin a light lick before briefly sucking at the spot. I couldn’t help the helpless sound the pleasure illicted from me.

He pulled back. Those green eyes dark with passion drifted from my eyes to where my chest rose and fell with shallow pants. He kissed me deeply, the day old stubble scratching against my chin. He pressed our foreheads together whispering my name as if it were synonymous with desire. He opened his eyes and pulled back. I nearly whimpered at his absence. He reached it. His warm hand cupped my jaw line, his rough fingers drawing delightful sensations forth as the caressed the nape of my neck. He studied my eyes saying nothing for a long moment. He ran his thumb over my bottom lip. In a deep, raw voice he spoke my name. Each syllable soaked in vulnerability and sincerity. I felt my eyes moisten as he said my name with love.

Let’s Pretend (Part 10)

Summary: AU! Dean and the reader are neighbors and close friends. As a huge favor, Dean asks her to pretend to be his girlfriend for a family wedding and the reader agrees.

Characters: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,927

Warnings: Cliffhanger and angst, a BUNCH of angst.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

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More strippercup.  Because.  

Previous Parts

“Get out here, man, we’ve got to go,” Eret says through Astrid’s phone, unusually gruff. “Now.  If you aren’t at my car in sixty seconds, I’m leaving without you. Hurry.”  Eret hangs up and Hiccup scrambles for his duffel bag, tucking Toothless’s tail inside of it and jogging out of the back door.  He notices immediately that he forgot his jacket but ignores it as the silence in the parking lot amplifies his dread.  

What if Eret is hurt? Some crazy woman stabbed him for his abs or something.  But why would he be using Astrid’s phone?  

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Lostcauses Fic: Blackbird

I had to write it. The epilogue to Black Wings and White.


He walks all the way.  It takes a long time.  His leg still pains him and he is so very, very tired. But it doesn’t matter.  He’ll be home soon.  He could have ridden, but it doesn’t seem fair to leave a horse.  Besides, he wants to take it all in.  To revel in the new sights, the changes, the breath of hope in the air. So it’s all fresh in his mind. So he can tell him all about it.

It’s late in the day when he arrives, a cool autumn afternoon with the sun starting to slide below the horizon. There’s a blackbird singing somewhere, pure clear notes tumbling and falling through the air.

The room is just as he left it.  The door is a little stiff, he has to put his shoulder to it to force it open. It’s a little dustier, some cobwebs have gathered in the corners, the flowers have faded in the bottle, a faint aroma of mint oil lingers.  

Erwin is still sleeping.  

Levi removes his cloak, folds it neatly and ties a kerchief round his head. He throws open the windows to let in air and light and sets about his task. He talks as he cleans, tells Erwin everything that has passed.  Tells him that he was right after all.  That he was right about everything.  That his dream was not a dream; his dream was the truth of the world.  Everyone knows that now.  And Levi tells him that he never fails to remind everyone that Erwin had been right all along.

Once the room is clean and fresh, he replaces the flowers with ones he gathered on the way; meadowsweet, dog rose, willow herb and poppy.  

Then he turns towards the figure on the bed.  Silent.  Resting.  He doesn’t lift the cloak, he doesn’t need to, he sees Erwin’s face everyday.  He slides his hands beneath the body and gently shifts him closer to the wall.  

“Move over old man.”

Then pulls off his boots and sets them at the foot of the bed.  The light is already fading when Levi lies down beside Erwin and finally closes his eyes.

Somewhere, a blackbird is singing.

lala-kate  asked:

Oh--your pregnancy prompt is a good one! I accept. How about a similar one yet in a completely different vein: Bandit/Hood pregnancy--however you want to take that. :)

She’s as overjoyed as he is with the news, the discovery of the child growing within her belly, so very small now but soon it shall have her form growing round, shall have her cheeks filling and lips plumping, her breasts swelling and her skin glowing and he most certainly cannot wait. She is beautiful now, has been to him since they were mere whispers of children running about the green fields surrounding their village before aristocracy had changed both their lives, had them running for the forests and inheriting the lives they know treasured, their wonderful existence living from the fruits of the land. He has no doubt that this child, this pregnancy, will only enhance her stunning features and he tells her so every chance he gets with not only words but reverent touches, feather-light strokes of fingertips across pronounced cheekbones, over a defined brow line. He shows her with adoring kisses peppered over every inch of skin he is able to reach (both when in view of their camp, their family and in the privacy of their tent) and he knows she is revelling in his love but there is something else there, a fear he cannot even attempt to soothe unless she allows him into her mind.

She’s by the fire on this particular night, when he’s returned from checking that John and his men have returned safely from their latest scouting mission, beautifully lit in the orange glow as she stokes at it for a moment with a fallen branch, thick enough to keep from lighting as she pushes at the kindling and dried leaves. Her mind is elsewhere, he can see that, has noticed it on more than a few occasions now when it takes a louder calling of her name to get her attention, when she wanders idly into their tent only to come out in complete confusion at why she’d entered in the first place and he knows it can happen, that the brain can become addled with the changes of pregnancy but this is something else, something more and, he thinks as he moves closer to her, being careful to be loud enough so as not to startle her in his approach from behind, tonight he’s going to find out what it is.

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That’s What I Thought

Prompt:  Trope 8: Oh great, I’ve just cut my foot and now you have to carry me bridal style and did I mention that we hate each other…

Characters: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 1105

Warnings: None

A/N: This is my submission for the SPN Fanfic Pond’s Challenge! It’s kind of rough, and un-beta’d so any mistakes are mine. Either way, I hope ya’ll enjoy! 


You leaned against your workstation quietly, completely focused on sharpening your knife set. The restaurant had closed about an hour ago, yet you were still there, prepping for the next day. It wasn’t like you had any place to be anyways.

The move to Lawrence, Kansas had been a complete, irrational, scape goat that had resulted in nothing but lonesome nights and a couple months of scraping by. Sure, you had a decent apartment and a stable income from working at the local diner, but you had gone to culinary school to learn the craft of making food into an art form, not flip burgers.

A chance at freedom from an overbearing family and a toxic relationship seemed to outweigh the consequence of constantly going home with the lingering smell of oil and grease, yet leaded to every ounce of creativity being zapped out of you – and you despised it.

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You and I (we can’t be wrong)

Ok, the title is probably lame but I’m so bad with these things. Anyways, this is for our dear justanotherfiveminutes! My first drabble written in one sitting and in about an hour. I can’t believe the things I can achieve when I’m procrastinating!


Caroline heaved a sigh as she dumped her bag by the front door, grateful to have the weight of the books and her laptop off of her. She might have been a vampire but that didn’t mean her shoulder didn’t ache from time to time. Even if it was a short couple of minutes from her car to the front door of their New Orleans home.

Stretching, she contemplated making the trek upstairs to stow away her college stuff before they ended up disappearing like the last time Rebekah needed a laptop immediately or being set on fire like the time when Kol was trying to teach some local witches in their library and somehow set her essay alight. Luckily, it was a printout and she could make another physical copy instantly. That didn’t mean she hadn’t been upset or that she hadn’t berate him for three days about it until Klaus had calmed her with a Spring Break trip to the Canaries for the two of them.

She had promptly forgotten all about her in-laws, and rightly so. Her husband loved with a passion that left her with no room for anyone else at times.

A grin broke out when she heard Klaus’ familiar footsteps approaching from his studio. Forgetting her bag (Elijah would move it out of annoyance soon enough, she was sure), she stepped right up to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders before he had even stopped moving.

Catching the hybrid off guard was pretty hard to do, but Caroline revelled in managing the feat on occasion. Such as right then then he stumbled and momentarily froze against her.

“Long day, my love?” he murmured, breath warm against her neck as his hands settled on her hips to pull her tighter into him.

Too long,” she groaned, tucking her face into his shoulder and inhaling. It was a mix of his natural musky and earthy scent with the lingering smell of oil paints, relaxing her almost immediately. “Can you hug me, Klaus?”

His chuckle ran deep in his chest, vibrating into her as he wrapped his arms around her middle and held her closer than she had thought possible. “Better?”

“Always,” Caroline sighed, cherishing their small moment alone in the unusually empty hallway of their house. If it wasn’t another Original, there was always a vampire or a witch milling around. “I hate school.”

“You always say that, yet you keep going back,” Klaus reminded her in amusement. Though she knew he stood firmly on the stance that she was more than welcome to do whatever she wanted with her life, she always knew he hated it when she stressed herself out. Especially when studying her third degree in as many decades.

“I know. I’m a glutton for punishment,” she joked, shifting to lay her head against his chest for moment so that his heart beat lazily right under her ear.

“You know,” he began slyly, and she could practically guess what was coming next. She should have known; she had left it open and had known him long enough to know he would take every opportunity to turn things smutty. “If you really like punishment, I could turn it into pleasure.”

Slapping his chest in faux-annoyance, she huffed and pulled away, unable to keep the smile off her face (or the images out of her head). “Are we talking bondage or role playing?”

“How about both?” he countered, licking his lips and tantalisingly running his hands up her back and over her shoulders. Caroline shuddered under his touch, already feeling the heat building within her and pool between her legs.

Klaus laid his hands softly onto either side of her neck, using his thumbs to strum against her jaw and tilt her head up towards him. Closing her eyes, she awaited for his lips to meet hers, only to be treated with the mere ghosting of them against her tingling ones. Deciding to take it into her own hands, she tried to chase his mouth, only to earn herself a silent yet taunting laugh as he pulled away and pressed his face into the juncture between her neck and shoulder. The feel of his stubble against her smooth skin as he peppered kisses along her jugular was enough to make her moan out loud, tugging on his hair to pull him away.

“Klaus,” Caroline breathed out, peering at him through her lashes to notice his smirk, which slightly unnerved her.

Brushing her hair back from her face, he pecked her lips sweetly before grabbing onto her hand. “There’s dinner in the kitchen. Eat first. I don’t plan on letting you out for while,” he informed her, voice still rough and lustful, making such ordinary information sound much more enticing than it really was.

“Seriously?!” she snapped when the meaning of her words finally hit, realising that sex would be put off by at least 20 minutes now. Mood ruined, she surrendered to his instructions and allowed him to pull her into the kitchen. “Fine.”

The fact that they didn’t run into anyone didn’t strike her as unusual until they entered the kitchen. Lit candles lined the breakfast bar, glowing red in their holders and the dim lights. Dinner was laid out on the table with a champagne bottle resting in an ice bucket, bubbles already popping in the glasses they were poured into.

“Klaus,” she uttered, completely taken aback by the romantic gesture, as he pulled out her chair and waited for her to sit before pushing it in. “Did you make this?”

“No, of course not. But I did decide on the menu,” he brushed off easily, taking his own seat opposite her with an easy smile. Moving the napkin next to his plate, he unveiled a small white box which he pushed towards her. “Here.”

“What-?” Caroline asked in confusion, brows furrowed until the light finally hit it so she could see the small logo on top to indicate it was from her favourite jewellery store. The one where she requested he bought her the charms for her charm bracelet on that one special day, every year, to keep him from buying anything extravagant. A gasp left her lips as realisation hit, horror and guilt flooding her immediately. “It’s our anniversary.”

“It is,” he confirmed, dimples breaking out with his adoring gaze, only making her feel worse,

“Oh, Klaus. I’m so sorry! I’ve just been so busy with coursework that I’ve completely lost track of the days and the time,” Caroline babbled, feeling tears spring to her eyes in both anger at herself for letting such an important date slip her mind and the hurt Klaus might be feeling at her forgetting. “I’m so sorry. I’m a horribl-” she began, hiccupping and wiping at her eyes just as he interrupted her.

“Okay, Caroline, let me talk,” he insisted, taking her hands in both of his even as she kept her eyes cast down at the table. A small part of her realised she hadn’t even opened her present yet, but it was knocked aside for the time being and she decided to focus on the more important aspect of the evening. “As much as I love being the correct one in our relationship for once, I can’t take all the compliments. I only remembered earlier this afternoon when your previously ordered gift arrived.”

Brightening up at his admittance, she slowly lifted her eyes and blinked away the few tears clinging at her lashes. “So it wasn’t just me?”

“No, sweetheart. It wasn’t,” Klaus reassured her, squeezing her hands and rewarding her with a kiss to the back of one of hers from she squeezed them back. “And trust me; it doesn’t represent how much our marriage means, alright? I love you, Caroline. You are the best thing in my life. Marrying you was the best decision I made in my life. You’re not a horrible anything because you forgot.”

Grateful for his words, she let out a long sigh and nodded. Only Klaus could ease her worries with smooth words layered with tenderness, straight from the heart. It was a side of him that only she got to see, this caring and passionate husband who stopped at nothing to make her happy.

“If it was, you’d be a horrible something too,” she pointed out, watching as the corner of his mouth quirk up.

“Which we both know I am not, therefore, it cannot be true,” Klaus stated with a tone of finality, causing a bubble of laughter to rise up and erupt from her lips. Apparently achieved his goal, he placed her hands onto the table and leaned back, casually pulling the napkin onto his lap before gazing up at her with a dark desire in his eyes. “Eat up, my love. I meant it when I said I wasn’t planning on letting you out of our room for a while.”