#And I will now (shockingly) go to sleep myself

[wilfywarfy]

I can't wait to pick up Dave from his universe and place him into my silly little Ego Manor that has over 20 people living in it, the likes of which include multiversal anomalies, serial killers, and robots :3

[gibbearish]

hm one thing im not happy with on the original post is i said the staff hate campaign has been going on longer than the transandrophobia debate and then immediately talk abt matt maybe being the source, but i don't actually know how long he's been CEO, nor do i have the best sense of time regarding how long the transandrophobia thing has been going on, i was just going off of the fact that it just. feels like that's the order of events as i remember them. but also i mean i guess that is. actually just how remembering things works now that i think about it? i may be overthinking this

[thebluester2020]

[TWST] Kinktober Day 13: "Masturbation"

Summary: With you being the only girl on campus, Leona already had an idea that there would be competition! Luckily for him however, catching you alone at night proved to be his lucky break.

Warning(s): Solo Masturbation (Leona fingers the reader), Teasing, Slight Bullying (I got a thing for Leona being mean man), Fingering, Leona being possessive (in kinda a jealous way tbh).

Side Note(s): Okay so a few things mostly in regards to how I'm going to treat anything I write for TWST from now on. One, I'm going to write as if Night Raven College was an actual college. For the sake of me being confused as to what's what regarding the school system, I gotta do what I gotta do in order to help myself 💀.

Two— y'all I gotta update my yuu oc's sheet. I'm seeing so many fancy ones on here that it's giving me major inspo.

It was hard for him to admit it to himself at first but...Leona Kingscholar had a crush.

Sure, it was easy to say that it was only a matter of time before he gained one on you, especially when you were the only girl on campus but he thought he had more strength of will than that! So many others had a crush on you, too many fools lamenting about how they either wanted to date you or sleep with you. It was becoming annoying at this rate, and at first? Leona couldn't wait to hear the news that Headmaster Crowley had finally found your home and sent you back, just so he could stop hearing students in SavannaClaw constantly groaning about you.

Then it began to divulge into something else.

One class period, strangely enough, you were without your cat. In every class he had shared with you prior, you were always preoccupied with the cat and seemed to feed off his mischief and antics. Like a little duckling trying to mimic every single living thing in order to find its place.

Bothersome.

But he ignored it well enough until he witnessed you being...focused for once. And there, he gained a strange warmth in his chest as he found himself staring, admiring your gracefulness as you sat in your chair and the way you showed a surprising amount of intelligence, one that was usually hidden away by how much you were coddling the only other member of that Ramshackle Dorm. Sure, he didn't have much room to admire nor talk about someone being focused with how little he cared for his classes personally but...there was something regal about you in particular being focused.

But, as quick as he felt that warmth blooming, he snuffed it out.

No way was he entering a pointless rat race for one girl when thousands of other students were competing in the same competition.

Until tonight.

When he found you sitting all on your lonesome inside the Botanical Gardens, reading a book no less.

"Herbivore?" He smirked at how fast you responded to the name he had given you.

You quickly closed the book and stood. "L-Leona?" You gulped. "What are you doing out so late?"

"I could ask the same of you," He rose his brow, his gaze going from the book in your hand to the clothes you were wearing. You looked as if you had just rolled out of bed and decided to walk out of your room. "It's dangerous to be out so late, a lot of predators hunt at night and you're easy prey."

You rolled your eyes, deciding to sit back down on the bench and scoot over enough to allow the prince some room to sit if he wished.

Shockingly, he took the silent offer. "Enough of the animal references," You huffed. "It's safe on this campus, much better than my world where I actually need to be afraid." Leona flicked his ear at your wording, he was tempted to press further on your meaning but...he decided to leave the matter for another time. After all, his original reason for being out here was simple. He felt like going out for a nighttime stroll, feel the cool breeze on his skin and all that and maybe taking a small nap here as well.

With you being here although...his plans started to shift a little.

"A romance book?" You slammed your novel shut when Leona pointed out the genre of your book, a blush quickly appearing on your cheeks as you immediately shot a glare to the prince. "Fairytales don't exist herbivore." He chuckled quietly at the growing red on your face.

"For your information, it's not a fairytale. It's a play!" You huffed. "Romeo and Juliet, a tale of forbidden lovers, do you have anything like that in this world?" The beastman shrugged his shoulders, although he was well-versed in different literatures. Romance and forbidden love stories were never his preferred genre to read, to him? It always felt like something to give to young princesses who were hoping that some tall knight would sweep them off of their feet.

He tsked at the very thought of it. "There are plenty of forbidden love stories in this world. Your little book is probably just as predictable as the next one."

"Oh really?"

He nodded his head. "Let me guess...someone dies in the book? Maybe both of them?"

Leona laughed at your silence, causing you to gently shove at his arm at his confidence. Personally, you wouldn't lie to yourself when you said that the idea of a love story appealed to you, especially more so now that you were in a world where magic and princes existed! Hell, you were talking to one right now! However, as you looked at him through the corner of your vision...he wasn't anything like Romeo. He was arrogant, blunt, and a little bit rude. You hadn't forgotten that his ambitious plan lead to you nearly being ran over during the Spelldrive games!

But despite all that? Those very same attributes...they attracted you all the same.

Suddenly, Leona caught a scent in the air, one that made him breathe deeply before exhaling slowly. "What's going on in that head of yours herbivore?" He questioned with a tilt of his head.

"I'm thinking about when you're going to leave and let me continue reading," You lied through your teeth, causing the prince to smirk as he slowly moved closer to you, still giving you ample room to move away in case you were uncomfortable. Yet...as that scent grew sweeter and more potent, it seemed that you were anything but uncomfortable with his presence. "Really?" He pressed. "Something tells me you're thinking about something else herbivore...perhaps this prince can grant it for you."

You twitched a little when Leona suddenly placed a hand on your thigh. The scent of an earthy soap on his body reached your nostrils and, steadily, you began to feel your mind slipping a little.

Until you remembered, you had to hold strong. "...I'm thinking about how much I want you to get away from me." You continued to try and lie, your futile attempts making the prince's smirk grow even more as he continued to laugh.

"Cute," He scoffed. "You know...if you're honest, I'll reward you really nicely." His hand began to move a little, not traveling either upward or downward but only drawing a circle in your skin with his thumb. Your breathing became heavier, the scent of your growing arousal making the prince feel as if he were sipping on the most delectable wine in all the lands. Still, he wanted to hear a word of consent from you before he proceeded.

"Reward?" You panted, gulping before you gained the courage to look Leona in the eyes where his green orbs seemed to almost glow in the darkness. "What...what reward are you talking about?"

"What fun is there in telling you when I can show you?" His thumb stilled as you considered your response. There was little point in denying it to yourself, you could feel that you were absolutely soaked, your sex twitching in anticipation of Leona's touch whilst you could almost feel yourself drowning in the prince's gaze. You wanted to tell yourself that you had no business having sex with a prince, risking the possibility of developing more of an attachment to this world than you already were. But...it was way too hard to think that way when you so badly wanted to feel his warmth. "Show me." You finally whispered.

Finally, Leona's lips found your own before his hand eagerly moved up to your clothed pussy. He laughed against your lips, parting briefly from you as he licked his lips clean of your sweet-tasting lipstick. "Already this wet for me herbivore? All that talk earlier must've been a heap of lies." He then pressed another kiss to your lips before peppering a trail of kisses down your cheek and to the side of your neck. Oh, he was so tempted to mark you right here and right now in this garden but...Leona willed himself to play the long game rather than try to obtain all of his winnings in one single night. He'd get you addicted to his touch first, getting you to beg and plead for him to take you but, as cruel as it would be, he'd deny you. After all, it was more fun to have you come to him rather than him come to you.

"Ah..." You moaned sweetly, the beastman's ears perking to the sound.

"I-It's because you're so d-damn arrogant..." You said breathlessly before you whined at the feeling of cold air hitting your sex when Leona pulled your underwear to the side. The prince ignored your words, too focused on how you squeaked and shuddered each time he kissed you and especially how you grabbed at his shoulders like a lifeline when he began to touch your twitching sex.

"All this just from talking to me, herbivore?" He then trailed his lips back up to your cheek before whispering in your ear. "How shameless..." He continued to lightly scold you before he dipped a finger inside your pussy, your grip upon his shoulders getting tighter from the action.

"And here you were reading a romance novel...did your precious characters do something like this in that little book of yours?"

You shook your head with a whiney 'no' in response. "Oh?" Leona briefly flashed his teeth as he smiled. "You must've been really eager for something like this to happen then," He continued to whisper in your ear as his finger began to lightly thrust in and out of your pussy, the sound of your moans increasing only making the prince's cock strain harder in his pants. But, for the moment, he'd ignore his own desires in other to please you.

"You have a crush on anyone?" Leona lightly nipped your ear.

He felt his ego grow when you shook your head no, he had a completely blank slate to work off of. To make sure that you got addicted to him and no one else. "My lucky day then...I get a cute lil' herbivore to play around with then. It'd be pretty awkward to fuck you with my fingers before you'd leave and smile in your crush's face next." Then, he curled his finger a little, a whine leaving your lips when he suddenly hit your g-spot. At the sound, Leona began to press into that spot with more accuracy, causing you to wrap your arms around his neck as you pulled him closer to your body.

"L-Leona!" You gasped.

"Tch, you sound like a lioness in heat. All from a little fingering?" He teased. A knot began to form in the pit of your stomach as you continued to clench around Leona's finger at his words, the combination of his typically rude and sarcastic tone mixed with the pleasure he was delivering you making your head spin. Then, Leona added a second finger and his thumb into the mix. The addition of the rubbing against your clit and the increased thickness from the second finger making you whine Leona's name.

He had to hold himself back from cumming in his pants like some teenager at the sound. "F-Fuck—! L-Leona...!" You gasped. "Your fingers...f-feel so good..."

"Yeah?" He placed a surprisingly gentle kiss on your lips. "You're so much more honest when you have a couple of fingers tending to this needy hole of yours, don't you?" He chuckled.

You dumbly nodded your head, your further honesty to his question only making his ego grow as the pace of his thrusts increased. He had to cover your mouth with his hand to help muffle your moans, the feeling of your drool against his palm making the prince hiss at the dirtiness of it all. In this moment, he felt more akin to a thief rather than a prince. Stealing away the purity of the seemingly innocent princess, who was "promised" to her knight. Leona moaned at the thought, and what's more? With the way you called out his name and clung to him like you were begging him to give you pleasure, trying to continue to plead your case for him to give you what you so desperately want, Leona couldn't deny how quickly his desires for you grew.

"So loud herbivore..." He said with an unusually sweet tone as his ears started to move to the sound of your cunt beginning to squelch. Your slick started to stick to Leona's palm and drip down onto the bench, filling the air with the smell of sex as Leona picked up the pace of his fingers even more. "Gonna cum soon? Your drippin'."

You answered with a loud moan as your eyes started to roll to the back of your head while your hips started to thrust onto his fingers in time with his movements. Your cunt tightened around his fingers, making the prince have to put more work into fucking you until...you whined loudly behind his palm, your pussy clenching and unclenching around his fingers rapidly before you finally relaxed as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

When you made a noise of discomfort though, he finally removed his fingers.

"Dirty," He mumbled, spreading his fingers as he lewdly played with your slick before finally sticking the digits into his mouth.

You blushed at the sight, weakly turning your head to the side before Leona snickered and made you face him once more. "Next time...let's do this in my dorm room, hm?"

[thebiggerbear]

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe." - Soldier Boy Prompt Response

Summary: You're tired of running and you go to Soldier Boy for protection. He agrees to do it but not without a price.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. The original character I wanted to respond to this prompt with before deciding to make it multi-character. This scenario immediately popped into my head reading the line and I just had to write it. Hope it's okay.

Thank you to my beta @rieleatiel for her services. You rock, girl!

Sequel

Warnings: violence/murder; implied assassination attempts; sexual propositioning; Soldier Boy being himself; starts out as a blackmail type dynamic that appears as if a little dubcon at first; language?

Word Count: 2528

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

SB Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

You can also read on AO3

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Beau version ✨ Dean version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Tom version ✨ Jason version ✨ Anael version ✨ SDV Alex version

You never thought in a million years that you would be seeking out one of the most dangerous Supes in the world for protection. Then again, you never would have thought that a multi-billion dollar corporation would be after you, intent on seeing you torn apart and scattered to the four winds. You didn’t exactly blow the whistle on them, but you didn’t exactly tow the company line either—something Stan Edgar was less than thrilled with and now the evil son of a bitch wanted you dead.

It was no secret that Edgar and Soldier Boy had a falling out of sorts after the truth about his being handed to the Russians had come to light. His old team may have made it happen, but it was Edgar pulling the strings all along. Surprisingly, the Supe who had been so focused on revenge hadn’t hunted Edgar down after this revelation, which made you wary about going this route. However, after narrowly escaping the latest death squad sent after you, you decided you had no choice but to take the gamble. There was nowhere you could run that Vought wouldn’t find you and you just hoped this would be more of an ‘enemy of my enemy’ situation rather than a ‘handing you right over to your enemy’ situation.

Once you had managed to track him down in Hong Kong while you were busy running yourself, he had shockingly agreed to a meet, and even more shockingly agreed to help you. Not without certain stipulations, of course.

“Let me in that sweet pussy of yours and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

You should have known, especially from the way he had been eyeing you up ever since he caught sight of you. Screwing your face up in disgust, you flat out refused. “Not happening.”

He shrugged and began to walk away. “Then you must not need my protection that badly.”

You scoffed in disbelief. “You’re seriously turning me down because I won’t fuck you? Whatever happened to the ‘Soldier Boy is America’s son’ bullshit? The OG superhero who fought Nazis and protected people?”

Soldier Boy stopped and slowly turned back towards you. “I’d be putting myself on the line to protect you. For that, I deserve one hell of a payment.” 

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. “So now you’re blackmailing me into sleeping with you? Unbelievable.” You had heard he was more like America’s Asshole than its Son, but you still couldn’t believe your ears. You had even offered to help him take Vought down with what you knew, so long as he kept you safe. You knew he’d want that kind of information. Why else was he hopping from continent to continent in the last few months, trying to shake Vought just like you were? Instead, his dick was taking top priority. Typical. 

“It’s the least you can do, doll.” He faced you fully again, shield hanging off of his arm as if it weighed nothing. “Like you said, I fought for this country, fought the Nazis, and now you’re asking me to play bodyguard while taking on Vought for you. I deserve something worth all that trouble.”

You ran through all other options in your mind. You still had a contact that could possibly put you in touch with someone that wouldn’t mind tapping into Vought’s offshore accounts that weren’t supposed to exist. You were already on Vought’s kill list; what would a few hundred thousand dollars of theirs matter? “I could pay you,” you offered.

“I’m not interested in money.” His eyes roved over you as he approached. “Besides,” he murmured as he came to a stop in front of you. You tensed as he reached up to tuck a strand of your hair that had gotten loose from under your ball cap behind your ear. ”I haven’t had a looker as pretty as you in a long time. Been locked away.” He gently gripped your chin in between his thumb and index finger, his eyes intent on your mouth before lifting to meet yours. A hint of a smirk started to appear on his handsome face when he most likely heard your heart beat starting to increase.

He released you and even took a step back from you, allowing you physical and metaphorical space. “Your call.”

You bit your lip as thoughts chaotically swirled inside your head. On one hand, you refused to be manipulated or pushed into sex with this asshole. No matter how physically attractive he might be, you weren’t willing to get on your back just so he would help you. But on the other hand, the cold hard truth was that you were tired — tired of running, tired of little-to-no sleep, tired of the paranoia that came with such a flight. Hell, at present, you hadn’t slept in almost two days and you were running on fumes; there wasn’t enough caffeine or energy pills in the world to get you through another day with no rest. Your reaction time was already dragging if your last narrow escape was anything to go by. If you continued this way, you’d be dead before the sun started to warm the sky; you were certain of it.

Soldier Boy stared you down. “What’s it gonna be?”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you glanced behind you at a small noise far off down the street. Thankfully, it was an old woman tossing something out onto the pavement, but you couldn’t deny it put you further on edge. You turned back to the Supe whose eyes stayed trained on you. You took a deep breath to steady your nerves and readied your response. His lips began to quirk upwards into a smile; he knew what your answer was going to be before you even said the words.

Vought Tower had been completely demolished. Luckily, it had been mostly evacuated before the destruction occurred. A fight between Soldier Boy and the now-dead Homelander had caused most of the damage, but the C4 that had been carefully lined throughout the infrastructure is what ended up bringing it down. 

Before it went boom, Soldier Boy had approached Stan Edgar, who refused to cower in a corner. The Supe respected that, but it didn’t change what he’d come here to do. He gripped Edgar by the throat and lifted him in the air, choking the older man and ignoring the fingers that desperately clawed at his hand.

“I thought we had an agreement,” Edgar rasped out.

Soldier Boy shrugged. “She made me a better one.” He then snapped the man’s neck and tossed his body aside like a rag doll. 

“Oi! We ought to get out of here,” Butcher warned after seeing Stan Edgar lifeless on the floor. “Frenchie’s about to blow this place to fucking hell.”

He glared over at the Brit and picked up his shield. He still didn’t trust him, not after what he and his merry band of assholes had tried to do the last time they’d teamed up, but he’d made a deal with you and he was intent on keeping his end of it. The only conditions Butcher and Captain Lesbo had given this time around was: no civilian casualties and Ryan was off limits. He did his best with the first and he could give less than a fuck on the other. As far as he was concerned, the kid was Butcher’s problem as long as the kid didn’t come looking for some payback once he got older, which Butcher assured he wouldn’t. That, and there better not be Novichok gas waiting at the end of this mission for him. They’d reluctantly agreed, knowing they had no other way to kill Homelander and take down Vought all in one swoop.

“After you.” Soldier Boy gestured for Butcher to leave first. The man scowled but obliged, keeping a wary eye out as he moved. Smirking, Soldier boy followed. The Supe might have enjoyed the reaction—or even tried to settle the score from Butcher’s previous betrayal—if he didn’t have you to get back to. He needed to let you know that you no longer had Stan Edgar or Vought to worry about. He’d kept up his end of the bargain you’d both made — now, finally, you were free.

You woke up to the sound of someone moving through the darkness in your room. You grabbed the gun from beneath your pillow and bolted upright as much as you could, trying to get your eyes to adjust so you could get a good shot.

“Relax, it’s just me,” Soldier Boy assured you. 

Recognizing his voice, you slowly lowered the gun and focused on his location. When your eyes finally adjusted, you realized he was near the foot of the bed, completely nude, his hair damp from a fresh shower. “Ben,” you breathed out in relief. “You scared me.”

Through the beams of moonlight shining into the room from the window, you saw him give you a smile and lay his shield down on the floor next to him. “Didn’t mean to.”

You slipped the safety back on the gun and stashed it into the drawer of your nightstand. You hated having it under your pillow at night; it was super uncomfortable and you only needed to do that when Soldier Boy — Ben, as he’d asked you to call him instead — wasn’t around. “Everything go okay?” 

“Better than okay.” You glanced back to see a smirk adorning that handsome face of his, with an all-too familiar gleam in those green eyes. You watched as he slipped on some sweats and then made his way to the opposite side of the bed. You moved onto your side to face him, smiling as he climbed in next to you and sat up against the headboard, turning to grin down at you. Within seconds, he had his arms wrapped around you, pulling you up against him, and he was kissing you a proper hello. He only pulled back when you needed air and tenderly rubbed his nose along yours, nuzzling you. “How about you, doll? Everything go okay while I was gone?”

You nodded and snuggled into his bare chest, letting out a relieved sigh when you felt his warm hands stroking your back. “Everything’s fine,” you assured him, closing your eyes. You’d never admit it aloud, but you felt so much better when he was around. Not only did you feel protected but you just felt better in general. You’d have to be under the pain of torture to admit to him (or yourself) that you actually missed him when he had to leave.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and let his lips linger there, continuing to rub your back just the way you liked. “Edgar and Vought are gone,” he murmured. “The Caped Cunt, too. You’ve got nothing more to worry about.”

Your eyes snapped open and you lifted yourself up to meet his gaze, your brows furrowed. “What?” You asked in shock.

“You heard me.” He stroked your cheek with his thumb, his grin now a smug smile. “You’re safe, baby.”    

Your eyes widened when the realization hit you. “That’s where you went?”

Your only answer was the lengthening of that smile. 

“Jesus, Ben.” So many thoughts and emotions swirled within you all at once. You were free, truly free. You no longer had to worry about Vought death squads hunting you down, Homelander coming for you, or Stan Edgar sending after you any ragtag Supes he could scrounge up. You were free. Although, Ben hadn’t told you that he was about to go on his most dangerous mission yet. He might be America’s original superhero and he might be tough to kill, but that didn’t mean he was completely invincible. He’d admitted as much to you over the last few months. “What if… What if you didn’t—”

He kissed you, effectively cutting you off. “I did,” he hummed against your lips. “Told you I would.”

You nodded, gently tracing his facial features with your hands before gliding down to his shoulders, dipping down the warm expanse of his back and then slowly returning to his chest. As always, he remained patient whenever you did this ritual of checking him for any wounds or injuries, knowing you wouldn’t find any but needing to assure yourself just the same. Truthfully, this man had come to mean more to you than you’d ever imagined would be possible. Hell, there had been a time when it wouldn’t have been possible at all.

When you were done, you met his gaze head on. “Do I want to know?”

Ben remained silent, but his eyes said it all: no, you didn’t want to know. You and Ben may have planned for the downfall of Vought and the ends of Homelander and Stan Edgar, the very same bastards that had put a target on your back in the first place, but that didn’t mean you wanted to hear the gory details of their deaths. You were just grateful Ben had come back to you alive and unharmed. 

You gave him a thin-lipped smile in understanding. “Thank you,” you whispered. 

Ben studied you for a moment, then pulled you in and kissed you again, his fingers slipping through your hair until he grabbed the back of your neck and urged you to meet him more fully. Just as you were getting into it, he broke away and chuckled. “You’re real eager for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?” You shot him a look and the smirk was suddenly back on his face. Without warning, he picked you up to rearrange you in the bed how he wanted you. “Too bad that you need to get some rest. We’re blowing the fuck out of here tomorrow and you’re gonna need to keep up.”

As if he would leave you behind if you couldn’t. “I thought you said Butcher would leave us alone after this.”

“I don’t trust that dicksucking Brit and I trust his bitch of a boss even less.”

You rolled your eyes, smirking when you felt him settle in behind you, knowing how much he enjoyed spooning you like this. “‘Kay,” you agreed. He had successfully protected you this far; you’d follow his lead on this one, too. You shut your eyes and snuggled into your pillow, content to feel his hands on your back caressing you once more.

You were just about asleep when you heard him murmur in your ear, “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe.” You smiled when you heard the words he’d been saying to you every night now for many months and your heart lightened when you felt his hands trail from your back to cup protectively over your rounding stomach, rubbing gently. ‘Safe’ is exactly how you felt right in this moment, and the little girl moving to meet her father’s embrace—like she always did when she sensed he was near—only cemented the knowledge that this was the first night neither you nor she were in danger any longer. It gave you a sense of peace you hadn’t known in a long time.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[danveration]

I have a Alastor × fem!reader request. Imma be real with you, I own an Alastor stuffie and for the longest time I wondered, 'What if it morphed into the actual Alastor while I cuddled it?". I know, odd but I think it could possibly be a cute idea? (in the verse Hazbin is still a show, this fic takes place irl)

OH MT GOSH I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCHHH!!! i’ve got to get me an Alastor stuffie too.. If only this would happen irl 💔❤️❤️ i hope this is what you wanted/had in mind :’)

Parings: Alastor x fem!reader

Summary: You have a Alastor stuffie and you cuddle it. And it…. turns into the real Alastor?!?!

You have a favourite character from the show Hazbin Hotel, by favourite, you mean FAVOURITE. His name is Alastor, the radio demon. You’ve had a stuffie of him for the longest time, it’s always brought you comfort and it felt good to have a sort of physical version of him. Plus, it’s so cute:)

You’re currently sitting in bed, when you grab your Alastor stuffed animal and hug it. Shockingly, you feel it sort of vibrating. You look down at it and see that there’s shadowy smoke coming from it. You gasp and let go of it.

You’re wondering what on earth is going on, when something that you would’ve NEVER thought to happen, it morphed into THE Alastor from the show.

You think you’re dreaming so you do what everyone does, pinch yourself.

“Shit.” You mumble. Definitely not sleeping, that hurt like a bitch.

You look to your side and you see him laying there, looking confused, but smiling.

He looks around and his eyes land on you.

You’re sitting there in shock, unable to say anything.

Alastor hasn’t ever had this happen to him before, where he unwillingly got teleported. He usually just teleports using his shadow magic. He’s very puzzled on what happened.

As he looks to see you, you’re most obviously alive, and human. He doesn’t know anyone in hell that looks like you, and he knows almost everyone. Is he.. back on earth?

You two are just staring at each other in equal confusion.

He looks over you and sees a “Hazbin Hotel” poster on the wall and raises his brow in confusion even more.

“Who might you be?” He asks.

Your brain is short-circuiting but you manage to stumble out you name. “I-I’m Y/n.”

“I see.. now do you have any idea what I’m doing here?” He asks you.

“No, I don’t.” You shake your head. “I was just cuddling my stuffie of y-“ You stop yourself and refrain from telling him exactly who the stuffie was resembling.

“..Of something. And you just.. appeared!” You say.

“Hm. Now that’s quite the mystery then, isn’t it?” He says. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you then, Y/n. Though the circumstances are quite outlandish. The name is-“

“Alastor.” You whisper out, still in a state of:“wowmyfavoritecharacterfromatvshowjustappearedinmybed.”

Alastor tilts his head and says with confusion in his voice, “Precisely..”

He moves to get up off your bed and stand up, looking around your room. He notices a picture of him on your dresser and he looks back at you with a raised brow.

“Um.. I can explain-“ You start. “You’re not.. real. Well, you’re real because you’re here right now but- You.. You’re not real in this world. Um.. You-“ You ramble on and he stops you.

“I understand.” He says with a smile.

“You.. understand?”

“Ah, yes! I am the radio demon after all. I must be aware that other universes exist. It seems something happened and I was quite literally spawned here.” He explains. “Usually I’ve only heard this happening if it was a vessel of the person, like.. let’s say.. a statue. But it seems there’s no statue of myself in this room?” He laughs.

This makes some sense now. The stuffie must apply to these rules.

“Oh um. I think I know what happened..” You say.

He stares at you, eyes narrowing. “Well?”

“So um.. I have a stuffied animal of you.” You say in a low tone, your cheeks reddening.

“What was that, dear?” He asks.

“I have a stuffie of you..” You say.

“A..” He starts. “A stuffie? Of me? Now why would you have that?” He laughs.

“I.. for comfort?” You answer, hoping he isn’t too weirded out.

“Comfort? Well that’s a delightful!” He says in amused tone.

“Yeah um.. you’re basically a fictional character in this world.” You say.

“A fictional character?” He asks.

“Mhm.” You answer.

“I see..” He looks as if he’s trying to piece together everything. “Well, my dear! I’m not quite sure on what exactly is going on. But I assume it’s only momentary. Maybe a glitch in the system or something.” He laughs.

“Y-you..” It’s finally setting in that Alastor is in your room.

“I?” He asks with a smile.

“I LOVE YOU.” You blurt out suddenly without thinking.

Alastor jumps a bit at that and steps backwards, his eyes wide.

“S-sorry. I just.. I cant believe you’re here.” You say. “How did this even… THE Alastor is in my room.. He.. Oh my god..” You mumble on to yourself.

Alastor is a clever man, he knows that you must be a “fan” of his. He notices that he obviously doesn’t exist in your world. Though he finds your reaction quite adorable. Especially that you have a stuffie of him? You’re idolizing him? Out of all people? He’s charmed.

“Dear.. You alright there?” He asks you.

You look back up at him and smile.

“Very very alright, yes.” You answer.

———————————————————————

Suddenly, you bolt awake. It was just a dream..?

You sigh and shift on your side, still holding your Alastor stuffie. If only dreams were real.

As you fall asleep, you don’t notice but the stuffie begins to vibrate…

[sunnie-angel]

Part 10: The Choice

part 9 | series masterlist | ao3 link

jason todd x f!reader

summary: jason settles into your new fwb relationship with ease, but stirring unrest in gotham prompts him to a course of action he'd never consider otherwise

tags: implied sexual content, off screen violence, discussion of murder victims

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 1.6k

a/n: this is a bit shorter than my usual updates for this fic but i'm trying to be nice to myself about it (got kinktober running and been working on two new series but i still wanted to update this fic)

Jason Todd has always known that he’s a selfish man. Now he knows that he’s a coward too. It was selfish of him to crumble in your arms, to take what you were offering with greedy, clutching hands. Falling into your bed again is easy, so easy. You’d offered him the most thinly veiled opportunity and the promise not to talk about it and all of his grand resolve had folded. The careful distance he had kept between you for those long, torturous weeks melting away at the offer for more, more than just the cold friendship he’d been willing to settle for. You, with your sweet cheeks and winter bright eyes, were a weakness he’d never learned to guard against.

He wakes up in your bed beside you and thinks that this is the closest to something holy he’s ever seen. Your soft huffing breaths as you sleep, brows soft and lashes fluttering. The weight of your body pressed along his, your heat searing through his skin. Your lips part just slightly as you exhale. There’s something innocent about you as you sleep, no worries to have your body humming with energy, no performance for an audience. Just you. Soft and sleep soaked, trusting him with your soft belly and unguarded throat, allowing him into your bed again after the colossal fuck up of the first time. Propping his head on his hand, he looks down at your relaxed features and promises to do better.

Jason will respect your rules, even if he can’t follow his own. Touching you? He crossed that line so long ago it’s laughable to think about when he’s just had you split open around him. Staying at the threshold of your home? Hell he’d practically invited himself inside. He doesn’t know how but you’ve started to see the truth of him, filled in the gaps of silence with the words he couldn’t say but felt, brushed against all his raw edges and still not flinched. Jason doesn’t know how you’ve managed it, but he lives in the fear of when the person you see stops being the friend you rely on. So his last rule, his last rule he will keep. Can keep the love he feels trapped in his throat burning like acid so long as you will keep looking at him like you did last night. Won’t break your rules and do anything so terrible as to utter the words out loud. Jason has kept so many secrets, what’s one more?

You mumble something in your sleep, turn and reach for him with a blind hand. This time, Jason is there. He is there for you to snuggle closer to, soft murmurs melting into peaceful relief at the solidness of him. Jason is there. He is there and he cannot understand how he ever had the cruelty to leave before. To give this up. Jason Todd knows that he is a coward. He knew he was a coward since the first time he left, and every moment after where he did not afford you the honesty of his yearning gaze. When he swallowed down your promises that nothing had to change, nothing had to be spoken aloud, too eager for the sweetness that you offered, he knew he was a coward. Down to his bones he knows that he has always been a coward when it comes to you. That he will continue to be a coward as long as it ends with him here, your vulnerable form seeking protection from the scarred shell of his body.

It is shockingly easy to go back to existing in your orbit now that he is allowed to have this much more of you. Gazes no longer fraught with tension, a loose limbed ease to invading your space. There is a comfort for him in knowing how to handle your body, to know what is allowed under the terms of your agreement. He can throw an arm around your shoulder and no longer do you freeze, instead sinking into him. Can linger as he hands over your lunch, your coffee, your little treat and not have to pretend he doesn’t feel the burn of your skin. Figures out how to trace the nape of your neck with his eyes alone until you are shivering under the weight of his attention. Satisfaction thrums through his veins at being able to pull such reactions from you, a gift he has been granted by the benevolent god that lets him haunt her bed.

He walks you home most days, even when he isn’t meant to be on campus. Offers no excuses, not that he thinks he needs any, simply shows up outside your lecture hall of internship office at the right time and slings your bag over his shoulder. You smile wryly up at him, smack him on the shoulder and let him know how perfectly capable you are of carrying your own things. He just smiles back until you run out of steam, rummaging through your pockets until you’ve found his reward for the day. Apples pressed into the palm of his hand, trail mix dotted with dark chocolate, dried fruit strips you mumble embarrassedly about making at home. Feeding you, watching your eyes light up over a new dish, it’s a feeling Jason doesn’t think will ever get old. Letting you feed him, in your own way, nearly rivals that gooey self-satisfied feeling. Understands intimately the desire to trade equally, to repay a kindness with kindness in turn. Can accepts these gifts from you without guilt now that the air between you is no longer bitter with self-flagellation.

It’s not every day that he follows you into your apartment and into your arms but enough that the two of you have made a routine of it. Has a hook behind the front door just for his jacket and a box of condoms in his size on your bedstand. But you don’t mention it and he doesn’t bring it up. No, Jason fills the silence with the little noises he can draw from your slack-jawed mouth. Learns to love the sound of his name dripping from your mouth. Still writhes with guilt at how badly he’d hurt you with it, the way you’d cried when it had slipped out. He gives it to you as a gift, the nickname, only to be whispered between the sheets with your eyes drawn wide. Every chant of Jay, Jay, please Jay lances the wound of it, drains the festering rot of memories as you replace them one by one.

Selfishly he hoards every smile, every expression twisted up with pleasure. It’s what you were made for, your whole body lighting up joy. For Jason it’s a contact high, like if he could hold you close enough, make you happy enough, maybe he could approach something like happiness too. That’s why when your face falls, when your lips tremble and your hands shake when another dead girl is found, he makes the decision that he does. There should never be such raw fear on someone as precious as you. It’s unacceptable.

Jason goes digging. Rips through the networks of informants he’s worked so hard to build, sent out henchmen with feelers, rampages through the city himself. Scours every corner, calls in every favour owed by whichever Rogues he’s got his hooks into. No one knows anything. No one’s saying anything. Two girls, both the spitting image of you murdered, and no one knows a fucking thing about it. None of the Rogues will claim it as their own doing and the ones with the taste for fear and flesh are all still locked up in Arkham. It’s not until one of the street kids he’s tried so damn hard to protect tells a story about a working girl killed four weeks ago in exchange for a place to stay that Jason finds out anything nearing useful.

It’s not hard to hack into the GCPD database. What’s hard is to find one Jane Doe in a stack of unsolved Jane Doe cases. Makes his heart hurt and his conscience prick at so many young women whose absences have gone unremarked by the world. Jason refuses to let you become one of them. When he finds the case he’s looking for, the coffee mug shatters in his hand. A working girl, dead four weeks just like he’d been told. She looks more like you than any of the others. Even dead on a slab, the resemblance has his teeth grinding. This thing, whatever it is, isn’t the result of increased muggings in the area. No, this is some sicko with a fetish and judging at the way his brutality has increased with each murdered girl, he’s building up to something.

There’s nothing on any of the bodies that tells him what it is though. No faint clue left for him to decipher, just the remnants of cruelty that make him feel sick to think on. He tells you not to worry, that he’s handling it, but he can tell you don’t quite believe him. You lean into him more often for comfort, lines carving themselves into the delicate hollows of your under eyes. Your lips are always chapped these days from biting at them, nailbeds raw from picking at them. And Jason, Jason hates to see you like this. Fearful. Afraid. A ghost of your vibrant self, so twisted up with the not knowing, the nebulous fear of being next. It’s unacceptable.

So he does something that he swore he’d never do, not after the last disastrous outcome. Jason picks up the phone and calls his family.

link to part 11

[stigmalarity]

Crimson

miguel o'hara x f!reader, fluff, smut, blood drinking, vampiric qualities, fingering ☆ crossposted to ao3

———————————————————————————

Hey, everything okay? 

Call me back when you can.

I’m getting really worried — I know you weren’t feeling well last night, can you just let me know if you’re alive?

I’m coming over.

You let out a sigh, scrolling through your messages to Miguel over the past twelve hours. He’s not a big texter, but it’s odd for him to go this long without responding to you. When you’d seen him last night you could tell something was up, but he’d just waved you off after you’d asked if he was feeling alright.

He hadn’t only looked exhausted, he seemed seriously on edge, his responses stiff and almost strained. The two of you hadn’t planned much for the day, seeing as he was currently on “vacation” with Jess and Peter B. holding down the fort at HQ. Something about mandatory quarterly time off to protect the spiders’ mental health. You’d thought it was a nice policy.

It wasn’t long after you’d arrived at his apartment above the HQ that you noticed how dazed Miguel was, movements sluggish as he grabbed the remote from the coffee table, responding to you only after you’d had to repeat yourself.

After the third instance of this, you got a bit concerned. “You tired, baby? I wouldn’t mind a nap before we start the movie.”

He pauses, sighing. “I think I’m getting sick,” he said, running a palm over his face.

“Oh no, really? You sure?” you asked with concern, shifting toward him on the couch with one hand raised to press against his forehead. Miguel hardly ever got sick. In fact, you thought it wasn’t even possible.

Miguel pulled away from you, just out of your reach. “Don’t get too close. I don’t want you to catch whatever it is,” he said. “Honestly, you should just go home. We can watch the movie another day.”

You frowned, then. “I don’t care about the movie, baby. Have you eaten at all today?” you asked.

Miguel’s guilty pause was answer enough. 

“I can stay over,” you declared. “I’ll sleep on the couch, so you won’t get me sick. I don’t want you to have to do everything by yourself while you’re like this.

An odd look had crossed his face, then. Anxious, almost pained. “I’m not a child.”

Though he hadn’t snapped at you, the words had come out shockingly cold. “I can take care of myself. You don’t have to mother me.”

That took you by surprise, your eyes going wide. It was unlike Miguel to take that tone with you. “I-I’m not trying to-“ you stuttered, hurt bleeding into your tone. “I’m just worried,” you said, looking down at your hands in your lap.

His eyes softened as he took in the furrow of your brow. Another sigh. He sounded so tired.

“I’m sorry, I know,” he said, reaching his hand out to lace his fingers through yours. “I’m alright, querida. I really don’t want to get you sick. Just go home, okay? I’ll text you.”

You gave him a long look, then. He was paler than usual, dark rings under his eyes looking more pronounced as evidence to his exhaustion. You hated the thought of leaving him alone like that, but you didn’t want to push him.

“Okay, just-,” you sighed. “Just stay hydrated, and keep me updated on how you’re feeling. Call me if you need anything.”

He nodded, trailing after you to walk you to the door. “Text me when you get home. I love you,” he said, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to the top of your head.

Now, you were standing in front of Miguel’s door, a plastic bag full of supplies in your hand. Since you weren’t sure what he was sick with, you’d brought a few different medicines, a large water bottle, empanadas and some pozole. You decide that if he gets upset, you’ll just drop everything off and go back home. Though you might just force him to accept your care, depending on how ill he is.

You take another breath before pushing the door open.

“Miguel?” you call, looking around the entranceway. All the lights are off, save for the glow of the TV in the bedroom. You kick your shoes off, walking towards the light. A quick glance into the kitchen tells you that he has either been well enough to do his dishes (and not text you back), or that he just hasn’t eaten at all. Both possibilities worry you for different reasons.

When you reach the doorway to the bedroom, you finally spot your boyfriend swaddled underneath the comforter, seemingly out cold. The TV’s volume is low enough to have lulled him to sleep, and you can’t help the fondness you feel for him when you see the Ghibli movie he’s put on.

You pad towards the bed, carefully placing the bag on the nightstand and taking a seat beside him on the edge of the mattress. “Miguel?” you call gently, smoothing away the stray hairs matted against his sweaty hairline. The heat emanating from his skin makes your eyes go wide. “Shit, you’re burning up, baby.”

You lean forward, digging through the plastic bag for the cooling towelettes you’d picked up at the drugstore. Miguel shifts behind you as you search, the mattress sinking under his weight. By the time you turn your head he’s already sitting up, arms snaking around your waist to hug you from behind.

“Why’re you here?” he murmurs weakly. “Told you I could take care of myself.” There’s no malice in his tone. Just him, nosing into the side of your neck.

“You call this taking care of yourself?” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Lay back down, Miguel.” You’ve got the cooling towelettes in your hand now, ready to slap one on his forehead and then maybe slap him for making you worry so much.

“You smell so good,” he sighs dreamily, tugging you backwards so that you’re practically in his lap. His grip is surprisingly strong for how ill he seems to be. “Shouldn’t have come. You should go home.”

“Stop hugging me before you tell me to go home,” you respond. But he just pulls you with him as he leans back against the headboard, pressing little kisses along your neck and awakening butterflies in your stomach. It’s so warm and comfortable having him pressed against your back that you nearly forget why you came in the first place.

“Hey! Come on, Miguel. Stop being weird. I thought you didn’t want to get me sick?” you frown, smacking lightly at his arms. “I brought medicine and stuff. We have to get your fever down.”

“It’s not going to help. M’not sick like that,” he slurs, exhaustion tinging his voice.

“What do you mean, you’re not sick like that? You have a fever, baby,” you say, twisting at the waist to press the towelette to his forehead. “You gotta drink some water next.”

“Don’t need water.”

“Stop being difficult,” you sigh.

“I’m not trying to be,” he says, breath hot at your neck. “You smell so good.”

“You said that already,” you say, cheeks heating. 

He may be sick, but it’s never taken much for Miguel to get you flustered. You’re feeling the effect he has on you especially hard now, with his towering form swelteringly hot and wrapped around you like this.

You sigh as his hands slide underneath the hem of your shirt, rough hands skirting along the skin of your waist. 

“Can you just let me take care of you, please? At least take some of the medicine I bought you -”

“M’not sick like that,” he sighs, switching to open-mouthed kisses along the side of your throat that have your breath shallowing.

“You’re repeating yourself again,” you murmur, though you’re not really focused on what you’re saying as he hums against your neck. 

“Miguel,” you start again, sliding a hand along the back of his neck and threading your fingers through the hair at his nape. “You keep saying weird stuff. What are you talking about?” 

Miguel shudders behind you as your nails graze his skin, and his forehead drops to your shoulder. “You love me, right?” he asks, voice barely a whisper.

“You know I do.”

“Mmm, need you to say it.”

“I love you, Miguel.”

“You wanna take care of me?” He asks, lips pressing against your shoulder blade.

“Any way I can,” you whisper. You have the inkling feeling that he expects you to respond badly to whatever he’s about to tell you, but whatever it is, you know you’ll be with him for the long run.

“M’not sick with the flu,” he slurs, turning his head against your shoulder to meet your gaze. He’s still so handsome, even like this.

“Can’t get you sick. I’m- m’thirsty,” he breathes, warm breath huffing over your skin. 

“For blood.”

“Blood?” you ask, brows furrowing. “Like, like you want to kill someone or-”

“It’s a spider thing. My specific genetic makeup gives me more… vampiric qualities,” he interrupts, though a light smile stretches across his pallid face at your assumption.

“M’sorry I- I should have told you from the start,” he adds. It looks exhausting for him to even get the words out, but to add even one more shred of context while he’s in this state, he’ll do it. “I usually have a stock of blood bags on-hand, but there was a situation in the med bay. They needed it more than me. It’s why I’ve been off for a few days. With no blood, my powers are on low output.”

You pause, absorbing the information. He has no reason to lie to you.

“O-okay,” you say.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” you repeat. “Do you know when they’ll have-”

You freeze when another violent shudder rips through him, and both of you are reminded of the reason why he’s told you all this in the first place.

“Miguel, you can drink from me, right?”  You ask gently, cupping his face in your palms. He’s getting even warmer, you think, watching a drop of sweat slide down his temple. “C-can you just bite me? Does it work like that?”

He can only hum an affirmative, brows furrowed and eyes screwed shut at the awful lurching in his belly.

“Okay- okay baby, go ahead,” you say, peeling your shirt off and tossing it aside as you turn back around and bring a hand up to the back of his neck, guiding him into yours.

His mouth hovers over your neck, warm breath whispering over your skin. “You trust me?” he mumbles weakly.

“Yes,” you respond hastily, tilting your neck for him as he presses a gentle, lingering kiss to your skin. “Yes, of course.”

That’s all he needs to hear. His mouth opens wide, and he bites.

You jerk as pain blooms along your pulse point, but Miguel’s arms hold you in place, four little incisions from his fangs drawing blood to the surface. Then he sucks, audibly swallowing down a mouthful of your blood, your fingers tightening in his hair at the sensation. It had hurt when he’d bitten you, but now… you’re not so sure.

“It- it’s okay, baby, it’s okay,” you whisper, loosening your grip on his hair and combing through it in apology. “This’ll make you feel better right? T-take as much as you need.”

Miguel moans against your throat at your go-ahead. For a few moments you’re stiff, avoiding any movement that could jostle his fangs in your neck. He uses his hands to soothe you, resuming their movement against your skin, palms running up and down your sides in a gentle caress.

In moments you’re feeling warm all over, loose and comfortable in Miguel’s arms. The feeling of his feverish hands on you is so nice, every sensation heightened though you’ve gotten so lax — like there’s nothing you can do but take what he gives you and feel.

You’re surprised at how quickly the pain completely subsides, your senses focusing in on the feeling of his hands on your skin and the pleasurable heat spreading outwards from the bite. That sensation you’d picked up when he’d first bitten you – it’s clearer now, making your mind hazy. His venom.

—

Miguel lets his eyes flutter closed as he finally tastes your blood. He’s always loved the scent of you, but your taste is so much more concentrated, sends his mind to mush.

It had never been this difficult for him to curb his thirst for you in the past. For all the years he’s known you, he’d never needed to push you away like last night to keep from biting you. The throbbing in his gums had been so painful then, the scent of your skin so near. Even now, the conscious part of him feels guilty for biting you without a more extensive explanation. This isn’t how he’d wanted you to find out, but the euphoria of finally quenching his thirst far outweighs his hesitance to continue.

You’re feeling the effects of his venom now, he’s sure of it. He can feel it under his lips, your pulse slowing beneath your skin as you relax into him. He’s drinking slow, hyper aware of how much he’s taking. He wants to make this last so that he can show you that it isn’t something to be afraid of.

His eyelids lift, dark eyes looking down at his hands splayed across your skin. The sight that greets him is tempting; your skirt is rucked up around your thighs, the fabric just barely covering what lies underneath. The straps of your bra had fallen down your shoulders in your haste to pull him towards your neck, and he takes a deep breath through his nose as his gaze roves over the swell of your chest underneath the lacy edge. 

He can’t see your face at this angle, but he knows your body. He knows how needy you’re getting, soft pants echoing in the quiet room as you rub your thighs together under his gaze. His venom has you the same as him, after all — achy and wanting.

A different kind of thirst plagues him now, one that has his cock throbbing where it’s pressed up against your ass. And with the taste of your blood coating his tongue – making his head spin, he thinks he might go mad from how badly he wants you.

His hands leave your waist, skirting up over your belly to reach your chest. Gently, he tugs the cups of your bra down, bringing both his hands to your tits and squeezing. The moan you let out when he tweaks your nipples is so wanton that he can’t help but echo you.

“Sensitive,” you breathe. “Feels good.”

I know, he thinks. And he’s hoping to make it feel even better.

He drops a hand down to your thighs, sliding his palm lazily along your skin as he eases them open. You’re so pliant, spreading your legs wide so that he can feel the softness of your inner thigh beneath your skirt. You really are so sensitive, breathing out a soft sound as his fingers skate upwards until he grazes the hem of your panties, teasing.

“More, Miguel,” you whine. “Please, want more.”

And who is he to deny you?

He takes one last gulp before pulling away from your neck, licking blood from his lips. He’s taken enough for now. What he really wants is to see how your body reacts to his venom – how much harder he can make you cum while you’re under its effects. 

“You’re so wet, amor,” he marvels, finally sliding his fingers over your covered slit and feeling the wetness soaking through your underwear.

You whine as he brings his digits to your clit, rubbing little circles to the bud over the fabric while his free hand wraps gently around your throat. “How are you feeling?” he asks carefully.

“So good, Miguel,” you murmur hazily. “Feels amazing.”

“Does it?” he asks carefully, licking away at the blood oozing from the bite.

You nod against his chest, and a little mewl escapes you when he presses his fingers in just a bit harder. “M’so sensitive.”

“It’s my venom,” he says. “It’s supposed to make you let your guard down — stop you from struggling.”

“Not that you are,” he adds, huffing a soft laugh against your skin.

Your head lolls back against his shoulder as he continues playing with your clit. You’re so cute that he can hardly resist dipping his head, sweetly brushing his nose against yours before meeting your mouth. You’re so eager, sighing into the kiss and reaching your hand up to his cheek, pulling him closer despite the coppery tang of your blood coating his tongue.

He’s no better off, on a high after finally satisfying the thirst that had him run ragged for days. Any other time he would have touched you slowly, running his hands and his lips over your skin before reaching this point, but all he can think of is you. He can feel his cock spilling pre into his sweats, but the press of your ass against him is enough to relieve some of the tension. All he wants now is to make you cum hard, and to make you cum fast.

He can tell that you’re getting close, lashes brushing against his cheek and rhythmic little pants breaching your lips as you grind backwards into his lap. You’ve still got one hand on the back of his neck, and he can feel your nails giving him crescent-shaped bite marks of his own.

The taste of your blood is still fresh on his tongue, but he already wants another bite — wants to feel the way your pulse jumps under his lips and your blood rushes into his mouth when you cum. And once he’s had his fill, he’ll fuck you all boneless and lazy into the mattress, if you want it. You won’t have to lift a finger. He has to pay you back for taking care of him, after all.

You whine as his fingers leave your clit to wrap around the waistband of your underwear. “Shh, it’s okay,” he murmurs, tugging the lace down and cooing praise into your ear as you lift your hips for him.

“Good girl, ángel. Being so good for me,” he says against your lips, dropping your underwear to the ground before bringing his hand back to your pussy to spread your folds open for him. His cock throbs at the sight of your little hole fluttering around nothing. He’ll make sure to fill it up for you soon enough.

You whine as the hand on your throat moves to your jaw, tilting your neck just a bit further for him so he can lap at the bite mark there. 

“You taste so sweet, querida. Will you be okay if I keep going?” he asks, fingers rolling over your bare clit while he waits for you to answer. Some part of him is still hesitant, still wants to make sure you’re alright with him like this.

“Y-yeah, please, Miguel — it felt so good before.”

He hides his smile in the curve of your throat, nosing lovingly into your skin at your response. He’s always happy making you feel good, but this time it’s different. He’s not just giving — he’s taking, too. So he needs to make it all up to you.

“Yeah?” he asks. “Think you’ll cum if I bite you again?”

“I-I might,” you breathe. He can tell — you’re so tense, veins straining beneath his lips as his middle finger dips into your entrance. “I want it.”

“Good,” he murmurs, sliding his finger inside you to the knuckle as you let out another shuddering moan. “Just relax for me, mi amor. Relax for me and I’ll give you what you want — that’s it,” he coos, pumping slowly in and out. You’re so tight, walls pulsing around the digit even as you rest your weight against his chest, trying to follow his instructions. 

“That’s it, good job, ángel.” he says, pulling all the way out just to push back in with two fingers, his own breath stuttering at the way your pussy sucks them in deeper at the stretch. “It won’t hurt this time if you’re relaxed, okay?”

You let out a little hum of affirmation, cheek sliding against his hair as his fangs graze over the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. He can spot your reflection in the mirror on the dresser at this angle, and the sight has him biting down, injecting you with another dose of his sweet venom.

He can’t tear his eyes away from the mirror, watching you writhe with pleasure; eyes screwed shut, pretty mouth agape, lips swollen and smeared with red, tits spilling out over the cups of your bra. His eyes drink it all in, and his stomach lurches when his gaze drops down to watch his fingers fuck you open just the way you like it.

You’d already been so close before he’d pulled away earlier. It’s not long before you’re trembling in his hold, walls getting tighter and tighter around his fingers as he pushes you closer to the edge. He wants you to cum — fucks his fingers into you a little harder, a little faster, prodding upwards just to moan against your skin when he feels a little burst of wetness hit his palm as he hits your favorite spot.

You’re slurring your words, practically drooling as you tell him how good it is, how close you are. 

He gets to watch it all in the mirror — the sight of you spread open and dripping around his fingers is so obscene that it’s a wonder how he doesn’t cum in his pants. Most especially when your hips jerk, catching his tip in the slippery mess dripping down to your ass.

“Cumming, cumming-“ you cry, breath hitching as he finally brings you to your peak.

There’s blood slipping past the seal of his mouth and dripping down your shoulder as he fucks his fingers in faster, banging against your spot to fuck more squirt out of you, spraying across his wrist and up to his forearm. Your blood gets so hot when you cum, the flavor sweetening in his mouth as it spikes with endorphins and makes his mind hazy.

Miguel pulls his fangs out of your neck and his fingers out of your pussy, resting his hands on your hips. He holds you steady as he drops his head down to your shoulder blade, flattening his tongue against your skin to chase a crimson bead rolling down your back. You let out a tired moan as he presses a trail of kisses from your neck to your hair, arms wrapping back around your waist.

“You did so well, mi amor,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the space behind your ear. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

You hum sleepily as Miguel continues to shower you with affection, barely registering his movements as he reaches for the plastic bag you’d left on the nightstand and pulls out the bottle of water you’d originally bought for him. 

He thinks he may have overdone it, making you cum so hard while so low on blood, but you deserve it. You deserve the world.

“Drink up, ángel,” he says, lifting the bottle up to your lips and coaxing you into taking a few sips. Once he’s satisfied with your intake, he sets the bottle on the counter, using the extra towelette in the bag to wipe your cum from his fingers before pulling an empanada out for you.

He’s still cradling you against his chest, legs all tangled up with his as you twist into him, nudging your cheek against the fabric of his shirt.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, looking up at him through your lashes.

“I should be asking you that question,” he replies, dropping the wrapper into the plastic bag. “I’m fine, thanks to you. But you lost a lot of blood. You need to eat something, okay?”

He lifts the empanada to your mouth and watches you take a bite. The two of you are quiet as he feeds you, and once you’re finished, you lean forward to kiss the tips of his fingers. The action is so loving that it makes him shiver.

“You’re really okay with this? With me?” Miguel asks, skirting the back of his index finger over your cheekbone. The two of you are lying down now, your head on his chest as he runs a palm over your back. You’re still so sensitive, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“Of course I am, Miguel,” you say, peering up at him through your lashes. “I love you.”

He lets out a shuddering breath as you cup his cheek, the softness in your tone making his heart throb. He turns his head, pressing a kiss into your palm.

“I love you, querida,” he murmurs into your skin. “Thank you.”

[reguluswife28]

Hey can you make a one shot or two parter about regulus and fem reader, arrange marriage trope where regulus is distant due to his past relationship and one day yells at the reader and regrets it? With a happy ending please!! Also I don’t see many RB imagines, so glad you are writing them, okie luv u byeeeee

I love Reg with all heart so im glad you requested this!

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Warnings: angst, fighting(screaming/yelling)

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Unwanted

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I’m married to Regulus Black. Not by choice though. It was arranged by our parents and it wasn’t a happy marriage. Regulus hated me or atleast he was really distant.

I tried my best to get his attention or even do something with him as husband and wife but he never budged. Today I was trying to get him to do something with me since he had the day off.

“Regulus? Can we please go out and do something? We never do!” I said sitting down next to him as he read a book. “No.” Is all Regulus said causing me to look at him confused.

“What?” I asked sounding a little defeated.

“Don’t you get it?” He asked angrily standing up. “I do not love you!” He now yelled and I winced. “This was only a marriage of convenience! I did not want to marry you!” He snapped viciously and I couldn’t help but start crying.

“Now leave me alone.” He told me not yelling now but still annoyed and angry. “As you wish.” I said getting up and going to our shared bedroom.

I owled the only two people I knew who would let me come over to their house. Remus Lupin and Sirius Black.

I couldn’t stand being in the same house as Regulus right now. They’d understand it. As the owl flew off I started packing the absolute necessities.

A few hours later Regulus had not appeared upstairs any and I had not seen him downstairs when I had checked. My owl also reappeared with a letter from Sirius and Remus saying I could come over.

I wrote Regulus a note saying that I was leaving for a few days but not saying where then grabbed my stuff and went to the fireplace.

I grabbed the floo powder and went inside the fireplace. “Lupin-Black house!” I said clearly and dropping the floo powder. As quickly as I did that is as quickly as I appeared in the house.

I stepped out into the living room to be greeted by Remus, Sirius, and shockingly James, Lily, and their baby Harry.

“What did my brother do now?” Sirius asked as they all gave me a quick hug. Lily led me to sit on the couch as I explained. “Your brother doesn’t love me is what he said. Told me to leave him alone when I tried to get him to do something just us.” I muttered as Harry crawled over sitting up in front of me babbling.

I smiled picking him up and holding him in my lap. “My brother has never been one for love. Just a stuck up prick.” Sirius told me and I tried to suppress a laugh.

“You’re just a cute little bundle of joy aren’t you, Harry?” I cooed playing with the child. “That he is.” Said James now sitting next to Lily who was next to me.

“You two are sure I can stay for a few days?” I asked looking between Remus and Sirius. “Yes. We’re sure.” Remus said with a soft smile and I thanked them.

Harry needed a nap so Lily took him and Remus showed me my room I’d be staying in. Once he showed me and left I put my stuff away and decided to lay down and take a nap myself.

As I was drifting off to sleep I layed there wondering what Regulus was doing despite what happened earlier. Soon I was asleep.

Regulus pov

After I had yelled at Y/n I had felt bad which confused me because I never felt bad before. So, I just went out but when I got home half of me expected what I was seeing right now and the other half somehow didn’t.

Y/n had packed her stuff and went away. She didn’t say where and now I was worried. I shouldn’t be, I didn’t love her. Right?

I mean I didn’t want to and was distant because of a past relationship and because our marriage was arranged. I figured that’s what she would want too.

Obviously, it wasn’t and now I regret everything. Some part of me had always admired the girl.

I tried thinking of where she could be. Her parents? No, they would be mad about her running away because they were the ones who arranged the marriage. Her sister? No, she doesn’t exactly like her sister.

My brother. That’s where. She was always friends with him and his friends in school.

Without warning my brother by owl at all I used the floo network to get there. As soon as I got there and got out of the fireplace I was met with the angry eyes of my brother.

“What are you doing here Regulus?” He questioned sternly. “I’m looking for my wife.” I sighed rubbing my forehead tiredly.

“The wife you yelled at and said you didn’t love?” Asked Remus also glaring at me. “The wife you said you never wanted to marry?” Asked James who now stood next to Sirius and Remus. All of them coming to her defense questioning him.

“Yes…” I muttered distaste in my mouth. I then looked at them with some look of determination in my eyes I had hoped. “I regret it. I’ve come to apologize to her.” I said seriously and then a different voice other than them was heard.

“Regulus?” Asked the voice and I stepped beside them in front of the others to see Y/n coming down the steps rubbing her eyes tiredly. “Y/n.” I whispered in relief.

A/n: I'm so sorry this has taken so long! I've had writers block and I've been busy with things. Btw this will have a pt 2!

[se-agapo-skywalker]

Silence at the Cliffs of Dawn

Celebrating one year of the blog 🥳

CW: age gap (dilf!Luke Skywalker), finger (cybernetic) sucking, oral sex (f! and m! receiving; blowjob/face sitting/69ing)

WC: 3.5k

"...All I ever do is make myself unlikable. You know that," Luke says, "Why do you even bother staying?"

The two of you are laying down in his bed, pressed together tightly to avoid accidentally pushing the other off the already small space--how you managed to convince Luke to let you sleep with him, you have no idea... Of course, you did sleep with him. Your current state of undress is evidence of that; in a move showcasing a rare display of his kindness, he allowed you to hog the majority of the blanket while he chose to rely on the warmth of his nightclothes.

Propping your head up on the pillow, you look at Luke and frown.

"I don't think you do it on purpose... for the most part, anyway," you tease. He raises an unamused eyebrow at you, before shaking his head and letting out a quiet almost-laugh.

"I can't even tell anymore. I guess I've really grown into it."

You fall silent for a moment. "What were you like? Before... When you were a Jedi?"

More silence. The rain outside is just starting to clear up, you notice, but it's still dark out. Luke's features are too dim to fully discern, but even then, you can notice the pain in his eyes... the conflict.

Strangely enough, he laughs. An actual laugh.

"...I looked a lot nicer. Dignified, you know? Not like some hobo hermit living in the middle of nowhere." He sighs. "In all seriousness, though... things were different. I can barely even recognize who I am now, nor can I the man I was before."

"Let me guess..." you smile, trying to picture a younger version of the greying man before you. You've seen the old propaganda posters--shockingly handsome ones, portraying him as the gorgeous golden boy of the Rebellion. "Plenty of admirers? Paramours, even?"

Luke shakes his head with something akin to embarrassment. "People certainly tried, but... that life wasn't for me."

Intrigued, you decide to press even further. "Well, what was? The daring pilot with a life full of adventure, or the wise, contemplative Jedi who liberated entire planets with the wave of his hand?"

"I did my fair share of both, but the truth is far more complicated than that. For a while, I did chase the feeling of being a hero..." His gaze grows distant. Regretful. "But it was all in vain. The people you save get killed. The things you build get destroyed. This galaxy, everything in it, it's all... temporary."

You sit up, blanket sliding off your nude form slightly and catching Luke's attention; as much as he tries to hide it, he can't help the way you affect him. For a moment, you smirk, but with the better view of his face you can see just how tormented he is.

"I mean, the galaxy isn't all that bad... it brought us together, right?"

"But it took so much in the process," Luke mutters in response.

"I-"

"Don't tell me it was worth it. It wasn't."

He moves over onto his back and covers his face with his left hand--hiding tears, no doubt. Tears he isn't yet ready to let you see.

"...The rain is over. You can leave if you wish."

"I'm not leaving," you say, maneuvering yourself over him. Luke peeks up at you through his fingers before you gently grab his hand and move it away from his face. "Not when you need me."

He exhales slowly, sadly, but he makes no move to shove you off him. With your other hand, you brush away the tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

"Let me take care of you, alright?"

Just as Luke instinctively opens his mouth to protest, he immediately concedes, settling back into the pillow. He's old, and he's tired, what use is it trying to fight you off? Besides, he wants this--needs it, he discovered at the onset of the rain--so the last thing he's going to do is stop you.

The room is silent, save for the sound of baited breath, as you finally lean over to kiss him. Using your free hand to stroke the fringe out of his eyes, other hand still holding his, you kiss the lines of his forehead, the bridge of his crooked nose, and finally his lips.

Luke doesn't think he's anything special; you think he's extraordinary. Not for being the hero of your dreams, but for being the man he truly is--as broken and as vulnerable as he may be, he's yours. And that's enough.

Despite the few times you've kissed him, you both take to it like a pikobi to water. You take the lead; his are quite shy, but by the time your lips meet, Luke noticeably relaxes beneath your touch.

His mechanical hand moves to your bare back, tracing the shape of your spine as you arch over him, the texture of the leather glove making you shiver. It moves from your back to your waist, slowly climbing toward your chest, where he graces your nipple with a firm pinch--not hard enough to hurt you, but enough to show his desire. Yes, Luke Skywalker desires you.

Although still sleeping, you can feel the stirrings beneath you as his arousal grows. You're fully awake, restless, hungry. Luke, on the other hand, needs a bit more time, time you're more than willing to give--you know the prize will be worth it.

"Master..." you purr, wiggling your hips slightly as he twitches at the sound of the nickname. "You've seen me. I haven't seen you yet."

"I-I'm nothing worth looking at..."

"You are to me."

Luke moves his cybernetic from the valley of your chest to cradle your face. You silently kiss the palm of his hand, mechanical fingers flexing within the leather, before taking the material between your teeth to pull it off.

"Wait-"

The leather doesn't catch on the metal; instead, it slips off like a raindrop sliding down the stone roof. Luke makes no move to halt its movement. The mechanical fingers are revealed to you, one by one, grey metal glinting in the slivers of moonlight streaming through the window.

"Beautiful..." you whisper, barely loud enough to be audible. But Luke hears you; if he were to respond, he's certain he'd just about cry.

Being linked to his nervous system, he has enough "feeling" in his cybernetic to control its movements and sense external stimuli, but without the synthskin, he can't truly feel. Hence why he barely uses it to touch you, let alone in a sexual context. All you have to do is show him he can.

In a swift motion you barely even stop to ponder, your tongue comes out to explore the metalwork; a metallic flavor--no surprise to you--accompanies the cold, and Luke refrains from flexing his fingers in your mouth.

Stars, he can't even register what you're doing, let alone why you're doing it. He watches you, blue eyes full blown to near-blackness as you suck on his fingers like they were a cock. Speaking of which, his throbs uncomfortably in the confines of his pants. Your movements in his lap feel incredible. Peeking down to look at your bare pussy grinding on him is enough to make him come... well, almost.

You, however, are not a fan of the cloth boundary between you; sure, it adds extra friction, but it's nowhere near as electric of a sensation as skin against skin. You've seen Luke's face, and his flesh hand, and his cock, but that's as far as you've gotten. Is he insecure about being old? It's not a problem to you, and he knows this, but you doubt he's fully internalized it. Being a (former) Jedi Master, you're sure he's covered in scars from the countless battles he's fought in... scars on his arms, his chest, his thighs-

"Y-yes," Luke pants out, seemingly reading your thoughts. "You can..." He can't even finish his sentence, flesh hand moving to grab your free hand and bring it to his clothes.

"Are you sure, Master?"

"Just do it already."

Delicately pulling his fingers out of your mouth, a thin line of spit connecting them to your lips, you pin Luke's right arm over his head, just like he did to yours earlier that night. He looks up at you with a mixture of surprise and arousal, a small smile of disbelief forming on his lips. You have plans--and you can't wait to show him.

The material of his sleep shirt is a rough wool of some kind, the cut of it a simple wrap-tunic similar to his Jedi robes. It gives you easy access to his chest; considering just how much Luke likes yours, you believe it's your turn to enjoy his. Ghosting your fingertips beneath the fabric, he shivers at your touch, and you raise an eyebrow at the texture you discover. Coarse, fuzzy, thick--you hadn't expected him to be just as hairy on his chest as he is on his face, but stars, you aren't complaining.

Luke is just about as red as a gundark by the time you pull his sleep shirt open. Of course, his embarrassment is no match for his stubbornness, which quickly bubbles up again to hide his discomfort. Typical Luke.

"Sure took you long enough."

"It did."

"Now what?"

"You'll see..."

Placing both of your palms flat on his chest, you lean over to kiss him once more; your mouth meets his, and then his neck, where you brand it with a startlingly red hickey. At the same time, you're scratching down his torso and tugging at the greying hairs.

Beneath the layer of fur is a web of tendril-like scars, stretching across his body like lightning. You can't help but wonder what dramatic battle between Jedi and Sith must have caused them... but stars, they're beautiful. You're determined to show him this.

Luke groans against your lips--if he had it his way, stars, he'd flip you over and pound you senseless. But no, he has already done that... and he's tired. Tired physically, tired mentally, tired of being in charge. For once, he'd like to experience what it means for someone to take care of him. Just once.

Taking care of yourself isn't even on your mind. Yes, you're horny beyond belief, skin on fire as you grind your dripping cunt against his still-clothed cock. Force, it isn't enough, it'll never be enough until you get the real thing. But... you want to try something different. You have a feeling he might want to as well.

"Where are you-" Luke begins to ask as you reluctantly pull yourself off him, only to be cut off by you running your fingers down his happy trail before shoving your hand down his pants. "Shavit, sweetheart!"

"Who are you calling sweetheart?" you smile, enjoying the thrill of feeling him before seeing him. His cock is hot and heavy in your palm, and much to your delight he neglected to wear any undergarments. As much as you enjoy the groans that escape his lips at the way you run your thumb over the already leaking tip, the devious part of you desires to tease him even more; removing your hand from his member, you move to squeeze his tightening balls.

"Fuck... fuck..." Luke moans. He's gripping the sheets with his cybernetic, flesh hand resting over the upper half of his face.

"Such language, Master... and such a light touch, too," you say, "I'm starting to worry you won't last for me."

When Luke finally manages to look out from under his hand, there's something strange in his eyes--lust, desire, conviction. To do what, you don't know.

"Sit on me."

"Are you sure? I don't think you're ready-"

"Not my cock. My face."

Now it's your turn to be surprised. All this teasing, all this bossing him around, yet he can't help but turn the tables and remind you who's in charge. That damn Skywalker is impossible to figure out, but you wouldn't have it any other way--in all honesty, that's why you're here. Why you stayed, even when he tried to push you away.

"Very well, Master... but I want a taste of you as well."

Before maneuvering to climb over him, you pull his trousers off his legs in one swift motion, his cock standing at full attention as it springs from its confines. Fuck, just the sight of it is enough to make you want to bounce on it until you're both sweaty and screaming. But not yet.

Your eyes are just keen enough to notice the way Luke blushes at you eyeing him up in the dim light. Stars, he is hairy--not that you're complaining, of course. You just didn't expect the wise old Jedi master to practically be a Wookiee beneath his clothes. He squirms a little under the intensity of your gaze, cock twitching in anticipation. A bead of precum glistens in the faint moonlight and dribbles down the veiny shaft... Licking your lips, you decide to do something about it.

Luke steadies you with his arms as you maneuver to climb over him. Soft apologies and awkward giggles are traded between the two of you as you try to figure out your bearings, metal hand accidentally pinching soft flesh and weight being distributed uncomfortably, but not painfully.

"I-I've never done this before," you breathe out, breaking your previously seductive demeanor.

"I wouldn't know where to begin," Luke's low voice chuckles, "but I think as long as you don't break my neck, we're doing it right."

Your current predicament involves you straddling his neck and facing his chest; you're bent over him, just barely hovering over his face, and his hands are gripping the soft flesh of your ass. The cybernetic in particular digs into your skin in a deliciously painful way, and you know it'll leave marks after--marks you'll wear with pride. Not that anyone other than him will be seeing them.

Luke quite enjoys the view he's getting--it takes practically all his willpower not to pull you down onto his face and go to town, damn the consequences (although a sprained neck at his age in the middle of nowhere is most certainly a bad idea). After having gotten a taste of your pussy before, he's insatiable; he'll do anything to get his fix.

Balancing your weight on your knees and your forearms, you lean forward to assess your target. The slight upward curve of his cock gives you easy access to it; licking down his happy trail, you nuzzle through wiry hairs before greeting his aching, impatient member. The Jedi Master may be able to hide his impatience beneath his actions and his demeanor, but, given his anatomy, his body can't.

Leaning forward, you greedily stick out your tongue to lap up the bead of precum already leaking out. It's... salty, and slightly bitter. You're still not sure about the taste, but it's him, so you want it.

Luke groans beneath you at the feeling of your tongue on him. The vibrations from his voice dance cruelly on your clit, the phantom of pleasure yet to come--before he finally grants you mercy and pulls you down onto his waiting lips.

The gasp that escapes your lips is muffled by you taking him in your mouth to gag yourself on his cock. He felt so massive when he was inside you, but like this... you almost can't handle it. Figuratively, and literally--you stop right before he hits the back of your throat, taking in just enough to really drive him wild without hurting yourself.

Luke drowns his moans in your soaking cunt, his noises and the movement of his hands beckoning you to start moving on his face.

Come on, sweetheart, his voice says in the back of your mind--another Jedi ability, you're sure. You won't hurt me.

Hips and mouth begin a slow, rhythmic pace on him. You can't help the way you tremble ever so slightly, unsure about the pressure of your movements or the depth of your strokes, but that anxiety becomes an afterthought as your senses dissolve into pure pleasure.

Luke fights the temptation to start bucking into your mouth--no, you've been far too good to him, you don't deserve to be treated in such a way. You're his angel, his saving grace, the being he isn't even worthy of touching (yet somehow is). Whatever he did to earn your affection, he wants to repay tenfold--you're his to use as you please.

He uses his tongue on you with as much fervor and hunger as he did earlier that night, if not even more. The taste of you on his lips lights a fire in the pit of his stomach and fully has him drunk on your essence. Reverently Luke alternates between fucking you with his tongue and swirling it around your clit, just as you alternate between sucking and stroking his shaft.

It's so wrong, a master and student behaving like this... Your cheeks flush at the utter indulgence of the act. Whatever afterlife the Jedi of old reside in, you can only hope they aren't witnessing your liaison.

Luke, however, doesn't give a fuck. He hasn't given one in quite some time--why should he live by the rules of the dead? That dogma nearly destroyed him. It ruined everything he ever cared about, everything he never allowed himself to truly love. No, "attachment" was forbidden. Anything that could become a pathway to the dark side was to be shunned.

Luke never understood how for so much of his Jedi training, so much of his life, his emotions were regarded as an inseparable part of him, passion and love he had harnessed to help countless others during the war. That all changed when he saved his father. He had defied Obi-Wan and Yoda's instruction to kill Anakin; therefore, his feelings were misguided, wrong. And it became his duty to suppress them.

But not anymore. He is no longer a Jedi, not in the way he was "meant" to be. He's just Luke, just a hermit, just an old man learning to love again--or, perhaps, learning to love for the very first time.

Luke's cock twitches and kicks in your mouth, threatening to spill at any moment. Teasingly, you pull him out of your mouth--earning a harsh groan into your cunt--to kiss the swollen, purple head.

"Oh, master..." you whisper, tracing his veins with your fingertips, "let go for me. I'm here, I'm ready."

A final squeeze of his balls urges him to finish on your tongue--and, capturing him in your mouth once more, he does. Spurts of hot liquid spill inside you, albeit in a different spot than before, and you choke slightly on the sheer load of it all. You're milking Luke for all he's worth, and he rewards you by practically breeding your mouth. Hips stutter and still as he calms down and starts to soften, so you slip him out of your mouth, gracing the overstimulated head with a final lick.

Your clit throbs at the taste of him cumming in your mouth, the knot forming within your belly signaling your own impending release. Beneath you, Luke is patiently at work drawing it out, exploring the depths of your sacred spot with his tongue. Now you're fully free to ride his face with reckless abandon--a task he encourages you to do with the guidance of his hands squeezing your thighs and groping your ass.

"Luke... Luke..." you moan, letting the sound freely escape your now unoccupied lips. No 'Master,' no titles or nicknames, just his name; his true name, the one he hasn't heard anyone call him in the past six years. If your senses are correct, coupled with the scratchy sensation of his beard, you can feel him smiling into you as he eats you out. He's positively making out with your cunt, kissing you just as he had kissed your other set of lips when you first came to him.

The orgasm that approaches is entirely unlike the one you experienced before; it approaches slowly, like a wave off the coast of the Temple Island, growing and growing in intensity before finally crashing against the shore. You buck your hips on his face, feeling the friction of his beard against your clit as you chase the delicious sensation bubbling beneath the surface.

Soon enough, Luke grants it; your Force bond burns white-hot as you tremble and come undone on his face, slicking his beard with juices he laps up as happily as a massiff. You're sure the cries that escape your lips are audible all the way in the Caretaker village. Luke chuckles beneath you, large hands--the ones that surely left bruises on your skin--coming up to help you slide off his face and into his lap.

Silence. No more rain. Just beyond the cliffs, the twin suns of Ahch-To begin to rise; much like the dawns of his youth, you imagine. You turn your gaze to your new lover's face as the first slivers of light stream through the opening of the window.

"That was..." you start, laughing breathlessly as you run your fingers through your hair.

Luke props himself up on his elbows, wiping his face with his flesh hand. A rare smile appears on his face.

"...Good. Very good."

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 420: Getting Ready for the Big Day, p1

“Good morning Dr. J….” sang a voice, a woman’s voice, a young woman’s voice to my left, rousing me from my sleep. 

Ugh. Already? Just opening my eyes was a struggle. My day yesterday had been so exhausting, and it seemed so early - couldn’t I just stay asleep?

“Time to get up and go to work,” came another girl, this voice floating from my right.  

Neither voice was Melissa’s. As groggy as I was, I could realize that I was in bed with two women; I could feel their warmly familiar bodies on either side of myself. Already their perfume had become my breath.

My lids finally peeled, I groggily looked to my left.

“J-Josie?” I stammered, half in surprise. 

“MmmHmmmmmm….” the young woman purred, her shockingly big bosoms squashed together and laying heavily on the mattress between us. This was Josie. Josie Jensen, one of my new medical assistants, barely in her twenties but one-hundred percent in the bed next to me. “And Kiki’s here too. Turn around and say hi.”

Staying on my back and unable to do anything but turn my head I-

“Hello Dr. J,” Lakshmi smiled, “Did you sleep nicely?”

“I, um…” My eyes goggled at her big bust as well, her top seemingly intentionally too small, a new look for my once very conservative and proper assistant. 

Both women looked rested, energetic, and…goddamn…bigger than I remembered. I shuddered in the first arousal of my day. 

“You look surprised to see us,” Josie giggled, my attention turning back to her, “Expecting someone else?”

“Uh…” Y-yeah. Where’s Melissa?

If I, um, recall correctly - and pardon me if I don’t, recently my mind’s not what it used to be - I’d passed out in the tub with my Office-Manager-slash-girlfriend last night. It had been a day of more climaxes than I could count, each one more draining than the last. As I looked around I realized I was now in Melissa’s soft nest; somehow. I’d been put to bed, and it was definitely morning. But where was she? And why were these two here? And did Melissa help me into any clothes last n--?

Nope. 

In a rush of panic I reached down to grab sheets, to pull up and cover my nakedness. I yanked them partway up my torso but my hands were caught, stayed by both girls, and the sheets lowered back again, down past my hips.

“Shhh shhh shhhh….” Lakshmi stopped me, eyes not on mine but on it.

“Yeah, no no no…” Josie followed, “let us see him…”

My cock, of course, was at full erection. “P-please, girls, no,” I groaned, their sudden attention on my morning wood immediately making it harder. This, the constant curse that started my every day, bobbed above my belly and stared me in the face. 

“Oh, Dr. J, he is beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Josie agreed, “I’ve never seen a man so…hard.”

“There are veins all over it…"

“And it’s twitching for us…”

“G-girls I’m sorry, it’s just-”

“Shhhhh….shhh…”

“We don’t mind…”

“No, we do not mind at all…”

“Girls please, please…” I began, shifting to sit up between them but then was handily stopped by one delicate but surprisingly powerful hand from each girl - oof! - pushing me back down onto the bed, prone between them.

“Don’t think you’re getting away that easily,” Josie told me.

“No, I w-wasn’t-” I stammered, “I wasn’t trying to get away.” Well, yes I was. I was naked! In bed with two girls and my girlfriend could be right outside the door!

“Do you remember the last time you woke up with us like this?” Josie asked.

“I, um-” When had that been?

“It was the morning before you signed the divorce papers,”” Lakshmi clarified, “When you were still married to your ex-wife Sheryl.”

“Yes I know who-”

“Melissa had told us to let you be, then,” Lakshmi continued slowly inching closer to me.

“To keep our hands off,” Josie added letting her hand stray towards my lap.

“But today…”

“Today she wants us to take care of you,” Josie pressed.

”Get you up, get you dressed…”

“Anything you need,” Josie offered, “definitely hands on.” Her hand came to rest gently on my belly, causing my gut to twist and cock to surge. 

I bit my lip and did everything I could to stop from groaning. 

“We brought new clothes for you. Something special for the big day”

“B-big day?” Oh my god her hand is so close. Nnngh. 

“The grand opening, the ribbon cutting, the news team and the party,” Josie explained, smiling at my density as she lazily traced her fingers around my navel, making my whole body spasm, “It’s Friday. It’s all happening today.”

Had it come already? Yes. Today was the unofficial grand opening of what I guess they were calling Far Horizons Evolution Center. The memories of Melissa's virtual tour from her laptop sprang from my head. My practice, such as it was, would still exist as Far Horizons Medical Associates, in the same old offices, but if I understood it right it would be dwarfed next to the grandiose entrances and cutting edge departments of the new facility. I’d still basically be working here, in the same diminished capacity I've grown used to, but now my practice would be just one small, dustily anachronistic part of a much larger, more modernly robust medical facility. I was told that patients and clients wouldn’t be seen in the newly open facility until Monday, so today was more ceremonial, more for PR and advertising than anything. There was to be a ribbon cutting with some local dignitaries and, I’m sure, the presence of the local news along with a celebration tonight. The girls had planned a big party in the central atrium of the new wings, and I guess I was going. 

“Aren’t you excited?” Josie asked, using painted nails to lightly caress my hip. 

“S-sure, yes,” I agreed, always the team player. 

“He certainly looks excited,” Lakshmi added, giggling at her own naughty joke as my nine-plus inch erection bobbed and waved. 

Josie giggled along. “He does,” she purred, “he can’t wait to see all his girls, all these new girls, huh?” 

She was referring not just to current team but the fifty-or-so new employees that would be showing up today. All women, of course. 

“Everyone all dressed up for him at the party…”

“They are all so excited to meet you.”

“I hear they are all really pretty.”

“And really tall…”

“And really smart.” 

“I hear they’re all coming,” Josie said, “them, some girls from Evolution, news media, some politicians…”

“I heard that Olivia will be here,” Lakshmi added, gently caressing my other hip, “and Sheryl…”

The mention of my ex wife made me shiver. She controlled my business, owned the apartment I was staying in and in fact the whole building. She paid my bills and owned not only everything but also, basically, me.

“But most important we’ll all be there, right?” Josie concluded.

“Yes, right, your family…”

“Your real family…” said Josie, “All your girls, Daddy. And you’ll be there on Mommy’s arm…”

“Oh my god, girls, w-w-wait,” I had to speak. My cock, hovering there, between them, demanding to be acknowledged. It had two beautiful girls teasing my hips, my belly, my skin. It had grown harder and harder and harder and holy shit it was trembling, I was trembling. If it blew it would shoot right into my f-

“s-s-stop…” I mutttered, weakly.

“Oh, why?” Josie whined, playfully, a knowing smile crooked on her face. Could they make me come, just like this? Josie looked eager, like it had become a game to her now.

“Yes, Dr J.,” Lakshmi asked, voice expectant, hopeful, “We are here to get you cleaned up and dressed. But first Is there anything else you need?”

“Is M-Melissa here?” I choked out, trying my best to stay under control..

Josie bit her glossy lower lip, looking down at me. “She got up to get ready, and she had to talk to the monkeys we brought her,” she answered, “So she’s downstairs with them.”

“Yes so we've had you for the last thirty minutes in bed, just looking at you,” added Lakshmi.

There was a deep smoulder in her eyes and I felt myself twitch, but wait- “M-monkeys?” I asked.

“She wanted some to fix the bathroom,” Lakshmi explained.

“Yeah the one you guys broke last night.”

Oh my god that's right, the tub, I recalled. There must be water everywhere.

“There is water everywhere.”

”So she’s downstairs?” I asked. 

“Yeah,” Josie answered. 

“They are all downstairs.”

“She’s probably busy letting them get their morning prayers in.”

What does that m-?

“So she asked us to take care of you.”

“Get you going...”

“Get you cleaned up…”

At that, Josie rose up a bit, readjusted herself onto her right elbow to get a better angle as her fingers encircled my horridly turgid cock.

“OHHhh..!” I moaned, finally.

“Cleaned up and cleaned out,” Lakshmi giggled, again amused by her own saucy, bold language. She moved in closer to me with her breasts as her friend began to slowly stroke me. She’d grabbed my wrist when my right hand had instinctively moved to stop Josie, and she put my arm down by my side. “Come here, shhhhhh,” Lakshmi whispered, now using delicate fingers to turn my head gently towards her, until my cheek rested against her full cleavage, my nose pressed into the soft, dark skin of her big right breast. She smelled of the same perfume all the girls wore, but had her own particular tones as well. Camphor, lemon and mint. Earthy undertones. Was that Cardamom?

“She smells nice, doesn’t she Daddy?” Josie asked, as her hand had taken to task. “Take a nice deep breath.”

Lakshmi’s skin was warm, so smooth. The soft ribbing of her pink long sleeve top pressed into my ear and jawline. “We love you,” she whispered down to me, “You are so, so wonderful. We do not know what we did to deserve you.” Her heart beat, through her chest, was in my ear. “We know how much you are going through, and we appreciate you.”

I moaned into Lakshmi’s boobs. Her words struck me deep. Her chest was so tender. Her voice was so tender. I was falling to putty in her arms as I let myself relax. But my groin was tender too. I could feel how, yesterday, it had been overworked. As loving and gentle as Josie loving hand was, her ministrations  made me groan again.

“Are you okay, Dr. J?” Lakshmi cooed.

“Am I hurting you?” Josie purred, pausing her slow strokes in concern.

This was, if I wanted it, my chance to stop them - but I didn’t have the will. “I’m-I'm just sensitive, after yesterday,” I found myself whimpering in answer, my voice muffled into Lakshmi’s tits, “Y-you just need to be gentle.”

That brought Josie to coo, her voice enlivened with new excitement as she squealed. “Omigod, of course, Daddy…” 

“Of course, baby,” Lakshmi followed in tandem, pulling my face more lovingly into her boobs. She was excited too, realizing the power she and her young friend had here over me, her boss of several years. “We will be so, so gentle...” 

I let out a small shudder as Josie began again to slowly pump me. “We know you came so many times yesterday…”

“Had so many orgasms…”

“You must be so sore…”

“So tender…”

“So we’ll be as gentle as can be,” Josie purred, pausing to lean in and kiss my ear. “While we take care of our wonderful…” Josie kissed my ear again, as Lakshmi continued to stroke my head. “Generous…” Another kiss, into my ear. “Sexy boss.” She nibbled my earlobe as she continued to work me back and forth, her grip firm but tender. “You just relax.”

“You are giving us so, so much,” Lakshmi cooed.

“Every time you show Mommy your love,” Josie purred, into my ear, “the family gets stronger.”

“We get stronger,” followed Lakshmi.

“And bigger, and prettier,” continued Josie.

“And softer and warmer and heavier,” finished Lakshmi, “so we can protect you better, love you more.”

“We don’t know how we’re going to pay you back for it yet,” Josie said, still gently stroking my erection. She kissed me inside my ear. “But we promise we will. We’ll find a way to make you as happy as you’re making us.” 

I sighed as her words moved over my brain like a blanket, as her fingers glided over my length, as the pillow of Lakshmi’s bulging bosom cradled my face. I knew I was falling, helpless, into the comforts of these two young girls. Despite the pleasure and the reassurance, I still felt anxiety.

”w-we…I…I have to slow down…” I stammered, into Lakshmi’s chest. 

“Oh, why, Dr. J?” Lakshmi pouted, pulling me even tighter.

“You’re thinking of yesterday, aren’t you?” Josie murmured, deep into my left ear, “Yesterday, and these past few weeks, these past few months?”

“Y-y-yuh…” I muttered in response, “i-i-it’s-”

“Shhhhhhhhhh….” she sibilated, shushing into my ear. Her tongue ventured in, probed. She felt my body spasm, tense up, groan; I nearly came in her hand, right then. She chuckled, then spoke softly. “It’s like I can taste your worries in there. You’re worried, aren’t you?”

“y-y-y-...”

“Oh, Dr. J, what are you worried about?” cooed Lakshmi, petting me.

I…I couldn’t let myself become like this. I couldn’t let myself be tempted into falling to an existence of just constant, submissive sex. It seemed like my body was willing, and I knew a swarm of women - including my girlfriend, queen of the hive - who would gladly let me do it, eagerly help walk me there along the way. But…I needed to be a man, I needed to-

NNNRRRGGggghhhh…

Josie’s tongue went back into my ear.

“We know you think you do not want to spend the rest of your life as a simp of an army of young girls,” Lakshmi purred down to me, pressing her bosomy softness into my face, all as her friend’s tongue drove itself deeper into my ear canal while still slowly, gently stroking my ready-to-explode cock, “but, Dr. J, you are so much more to us than just that. You mean so much to us.”

“mmmMMMMmmmmyesssssss….” Josie hissed into my left ear, making me whine and shake. My cock was throbbing and hot in her hand, painful and yet needing release..

“And how can you possibly say ‘no’ to us?” Lakshmi continued, speaking down to me indulgently, like to a child at her full, young breast, “How could you take back all the joy you have given your staff? Your friends? Your new family?”

I can’t…I couldn’t, I began to tell myself. If it really meant this much to them, then maybe it was worth it.

Josie's hand, though, as tender as she was trying to be, was beginning to hurt. As bullish as it was, my cock was still sensitive, injured. 

“We know you’re still tired, you’re still sore,” Josie spoke into my ear. 

It was true. And it was not just my groin. Muscles all across my body ached: my thighs, my core, my jaw. 

“You’re all ouchy,” her voice purred.

“Oh of course you are,” Lakshmi added, “You had almost two dozen orgasms yesterday.”

I whined. My open eyes focused on the skin of Lakshmi’s right breast, the smoothest of sorrel.

“But today’s a new day,” Josie pressed, as the hand encircling my shaft tightened. Still gentle, but indeed I hardened further in her grasp, stiffening, my loins clenching. “And we want to get bigger.”

“Make us bigger, Daddy,” Lakshmi purred, voice through her chest, “Think about Mommy, and make us grow.”

That did it. I closed my eyes, picturing Melissa’s beautiful face watching me. I could almost hear her voice. Awash in her beauty and encouragement, I lost myself in the still soft, still steady rhythm of Josie’s hand. Despite my throbbing inflammation of erection, my climax came gently, a tide of pleasure rolling in across me as - clear as day now - I heard Melissa’s voice. ‘Good boyyyy…’ it purred.  I gasped, taking a big breath from Lakshmi’s breast as my entire body clenched in the beginnings of orgasm before then going slack and fully relaxing into its waves of pleasure as they came again, and again, and again, then receding, receding..

“That’s right, baby,” Lakshmi cooed, hugging my face to her warm, brown tits, “go ahead and come so nicely for us.”

I moaned, and I melted into Lakshmi’s chest, as the two girls clucked and coddled to me, pampering me through my climax.  My hips, after a time, stopped bucking and I sank down into the mattress. A new warmth from their bodies blanketed me as the girls were overtaken by a bliss. Josie released me, but both continued to softly fondle me while we all basked in the afterglow…

.==========================================

thanks to RiF for editing

[annaphoenix1994]

Reconnaissance

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

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"Up, Sergeant," I heard Ghost bark at me, watching me toss and turn on my cot before I opened my eyes at him. "You and I have some work to do."

"Like what? It's five in the morning!"

"Don't question me, Sergeant. You have some work to do to make up for that stunt you pulled last night."

I huffed before sitting up in my cot, running my fingers through my unkept hair before I sighed, "I'm sorry, L.T. What do I need to do?"

"You and I are going on a recon later."

"Hit on Hassan?"

"No. Alejandro asked me personally himself this morning if we'd do this."

Great.

I still wasn't over what happened last night and was quite pissed that we did all of that work just for the lass to advise us to let him go. She had a mouth on her, but I suppose that's why she's good at her job. She didn't take shit from anybody, including a wanted terrorist, and even me.

I deserved that punch she gave me, and I was embarrassed that she bruised my ego right in front of everyone, but I brought that on myself, too. Ghost was right – my bad habit of being too hot-headed got the best of me yet again to a person who was least deserving of it. I couldn't apologize to her just yet because I didn't know how to. I just hoped that she'd understand and let it go.

I was in no mood to listen to Ghost's orders, knowing that he woke me up at five a.m. just out of spite when we were told we could sleep in a bit because of our long day prior.

"Well, you said later. Why now?" I questioned him, knowing that anyone else wouldn't have the balls to retort back to their superior, but I felt I at least had some sort of seniority with Ghost. We've worked together a lot, and he knew about how much of a bastard I could be, and he didn't take shit from me either, yet I barely took shit from him.

"Because I bloody said so, Sergeant. Last chance to get up when I tell you before I make you."

Sure you will, L.T.

Even though I wasn't in the mood to listen to his orders, I surely was in the mood to press his buttons. I loved irritating him because he insulted me with the funniest jokes, but maybe I took it too far with him, especially with how I acted in front of a woman we were working with.

I scoffed and laid back down onto my cot, putting the blanket over my shoulders and turning my back towards him, hearing him mumble "bloody hell" before he stepped into my room, hooking his hands under the edge of my mattress before he lifted it upwards, physically forcing me out of the bed and onto the cold tile floor below. I groaned with a laugh and shock from hitting the cold floor. "On your feet, Sergeant. Since you want to be cheeky, you can skip breakfast and go straight to P.T."

"I do it anyway." I shrugged.

"Then let's go. You and I are going to take a nice little stroll around this place."

"How romantic, L.T. You have a picnic waiting?" I teased.

"I'm not in the mood for your mouth. Meet me downstairs in five minutes."

Steamin' Jesus, that man needs to get laid or something. He's hateful today.

"Yes, sir."

I left my room the mess Ghost left in in, quickly dressing into a pair of jeans and t-shirt before putting my boots on, followed by my vest and earpiece. I followed the chatter coming from the small kitchen area at the end of the hall, shockingly seeing Ghost in the same area as if he was being a social butterfly. This is odd. He's never the type to be in a social setting. He always stays back and observes everything. I was usually the social one!

It was when I saw a certain person that I realized why he chose to be there in the first place.

No wonder, he has an interest in Kiera and wants to be within her line of sight every chance he gets. He was making it obvious considering I usually knew how he acted. We've had to work with women before, but he was never like this – wanting to be social and willingly participating in conversation.

I couldn't blame him, though. Kiera was smoking hot. Maybe he was trying to get her interest in him before she could with me because he knew I had a track record with picking up women when I could. She was in a pair of denim jeans and a blouse, far more different than what I've seen her in yesterday. Her hair was down and straightened, only making her appearance far more attractive.

Even though this lass easily beat the shit out of me, I still wanted her in my bed... and maybe beat the shit out of me in bed, too. 

Ghost was leaned against the counter, his arms crossed across his chest (probably to look bigger in front of her) while Kiera and Rudolfo sat across from each other, Rudolfo dressed as if he was waiting for someone to participate in P.T. with as I could remember Alejandro saying that he and Rudolfo liked to go on a morning run together to work on their cardio. They were best friends, just like Ghost and I were, even though Ghost would never admit that, especially to me.

My eyes couldn't help but look at her ass when she stood up and walked towards the fridge, those jeans fitting her so perfectly, except I was unaware of the glare Ghost shot me as if he was warning me to keep my wandering eyes to myself, and I couldn't help but shake my head and chuckle at his behavior.

"Whose drink is this?" She asked, holding up a glass bottle of opened root beer that I had taken a drink out of from last night, only putting it back before going to bed to keep it cold for today. I huffed at her, "It's mine."

"Oh, well you wouldn't mind, would you?" She arched her brow, using the bottom of her shirt to wipe the rim of the bottle before putting it up to her lips, holding her eye contact with me as if she was instigating me.

"It was mine..." I sighed, still unable to keep from eyeing her body. I didn't mean it when I said she could use some exercise because I could tell, especially in those jeans, that she had a pair of thick thighs beneath them with a perfect ass to match. She sure was my type, but she had Ghost's attitude.

Ghost didn't really have a "type" that I could put together, but by observing how he looked at her, I could see that she was further than perfect in his eyes.

We both wanted her, and maybe this was a competition I shouldn't get involved in because Ghost had the mysteriousness of him behind his mask, but his body type and thick voice made any woman blush.

"Sleep good, Hermano?" Rudolfo asked me.

"Yeah, until L.T. literally flipped me out of bed."

"If I had to guess, you probably deserved it." Kiera shrugged, taking another sip of root beer, obliviously standing closer to Ghost as she talked. I could smell her from here, and I wondered what Ghost was thinking, because she smelled divine. No perfume, but either a strong body wash or lotion was on her, and I couldn't help but wonder what her hair smelled like...

Rudolfo was oblivious to the sexual tension she brought me, or maybe he wasn't. Either way, he didn't show it. "I did."

"What's the plan today, Rudy?" Kiera asked, breaking the awkward silence, and sitting back down at the table.

"Haven't gotten a word yet. I think the Colonel is waiting for either you or Kate to get back to him."

"I already submitted my part of the report and my intel. Haven't heard anything yet myself."

"So... we just wait?" I questioned.

"Any other ideas?"

"No."

"Okay, then. Just leave the big girl stuff for me. You'll have your fun soon enough." She retorted, except her tone sounded more playful than serious.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Wow. Ghost, what did you do to him? He's so much more respectful than yesterday."

"Didn't do anything yet," He shrugged. "We were just about to go."

Kiera nodded before removing her phone out from her back pocket, "Looks like I have to go, too," she said, standing up before looking at the caller I.D., stepping closer to me and showing me who was calling:

John Price – Mobile

"Let's see what kind of trouble you got me in, tattletale." She teased me, walking past me and down the hall, holding the phone do her ear as she walked away from us.

I didn't know how Ghost held himself together while she stood close to him. She smelled so fucking good that I wanted to bend her right over that table and rail the attitude right out of her. This lass made me so mad last night, I couldn't even wank off to how hot it was when she forced me to the ground because she embarrassed me.

I haven't seen a woman in seven months, and seeing a smoking hot woman like her sent my senses wild. Even then, I wouldn't force myself on her because I'm not like that, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to try to flirt with her and get her in my bed with mutual agreement.

"Tattletale?" Ghost questioned me, glaring at me as if I did something wrong. "Did you call the old man on her?"

"No," I shrugged. "Didn't even know the old man had a phone. They've worked together?"

"I guess," Ghost shrugged. "Let's go. You and I have work to do."

Ghost and I walked towards the stairs that led to the lower level, and I couldn't help but nudge him when I heard Kiera's voice coming from Alejandro's office. "L.T., looks like we might have something here."

"It's none of our business, Sergeant. Move."

I could see her inside, pacing around the room with the phone now on speaker, hearing Price's voice on the other end as Alejandro sat at his desk, his arms crossed over his chest as he studied what she was saying.

"I know, but it sounds serious. I want to know what they're talking about."

"If they wanted us to know, then they would've told us," Ghost growled at me. I was really pushing his buttons, and I knew I needed to just comply with his orders as he was of a higher rank than me, but I couldn't help it. He was mentally accusing me of telling my Captain about what happened with me and Kiera last night, but I really didn't. I had forgotten about it after I woke up today and was ready to go out on the next job, not be literally thrown out of my bed and strung along with Ghost's agenda. "Move!"

"Wait, it could be something that we need to be a part of. What if we go out and get called right back? We could be wasting time, L.T."

"Don't be bloody ignorant. That's what comms are for."

"Come on, L.T. You know you're curious..." I dared to tease him, knowing that I was playing with fire considering that dangerous gleam in his eye. Just as Ghost and I stared at each other at the top of the stairs, I could faintly hear Alejandro's voice from inside his office.

"Déjame conseguir Fantasma y Jabón (Let me get Ghost and Soap)," Alejandro spoke, the squeak of his office door causing us to look towards him, the pair of us standing as if we were going on about our day and not Ghost scolding me for wanting to eavesdrop. "Ghost, Soap, I need you two to hear this."

"On the way." Ghost nodded.

"See, I told you, L.T." I snickered.

"Shut it, Sergeant."

"Must be serious, eh?"

"Probably."

We slowly walked into Alejandro's office, taking a seat alongside each other against the wall as we watched Kiera pace while continuing to talk to Price, "Why won't he let you lead the rescue team, then?"

"I don't know, my darling," Price sighed from the other end of the phone. Yeah, this was definitely serious if he didn't contact her through the comms and chose to call her directly. "Shepherd says it's a tug o' war with Al Qatala."

"Isn't everything a tug of war between us and them?" She scoffed. "I knew I should've gone with you guys when you had to go to Spain. This would've never happened!"

"I'm afraid it could've, love. Don't you worry, okay? Gaz and I are going to get her."

Get who?

"Just you two? I'll make sure this would be off the books. The government will see it as an act of war if you're going up against Al Qatala in Iran, and that'll be more shit that we don't need stirred up," She sighed. "You'll need an army for that, John."

"I've got an army," He chuckled. "I've got some old friends in Urzikstan that will be happy to help me out."

"Do you need me to send your Lieutenant and Sergeant?"

"No, keep them there with you and keep them in line, though I know they know better than to be cheeky."

"Well, one of them does." She scoffed, glancing towards Ghost.

"No need to say names when I know who you're talking about," Price laughed. "I'll keep you updated. We're getting Laswell back."

Laswell got taken. How in the bloody hell could that happen?!

"Be careful, Price. Gaz, too."

"We always are, love. Do you have anything for me before I go?"

"Not yet. We had Hassan for interrogation but had to let him go because we had no concrete proof until we could see where he leads us."

"Good idea. We almost had a hit on the second missile, but it was no good."

"I told Kate last night that I thought the guidance systems could be in Spain instead of the actual missile."

"How so?"

"An attempt to get us off track. Obviously, it worked because AQ had no business being in Spain. Could've been a plan to separate us and buy them more time."

"Didn't think about that," Price huffed. "I'll see what Kate says when we get her back. Keep doing what you're doing. We'll see you soon."

"Will do, Price. Stay safe out there."

"I'll contact you within twelve hours."

"I look forward to it."

I watched as Kiera hung up the phone, running her fingers through her gorgeous blonde hair before taking a seat at Alejandro's desk, crossing her legs and taking out an e-cigarette from her pocket before taking a long drag from it, the room now smelling of something fruity, the exhale coming from her lips and nose before she spoke again, "I had Alejandro bring you in here because I might have a new lead."

"What is it?"

"I did some research last night with the intel I've gathered over the last few days. I think the guidance systems for the missiles were taken to Spain and the missiles are somewhere either here in Mexico or moving close to the States." She explained.

How can she even get this information?

"Throwing us off course then, yeah?" Ghost asked.

"Well, they're trying to, but we've caught on before they can make their next move."

"I like the sound of that." He breathed a chuckle.

By the way he was looking at her, he wanted her bad, and I couldn't blame him.

"I already told Alejandro about what my plans were, so I'll fill you two in, too. I have a recon I'm going on later, and Alejandro tells me that he has to task you two with something to assist him on."

"I'll brief them on it, señora." Alejandro assured her, a sly smirk on his lips that only Ghost and I could see.

"Okay. I'm going to go and get ready. I have some work to do. I'll see you all later." She nodded, standing to her feet and exiting Alejandro's office, and I watched as he took a few moments to give Kiera enough time to walk away before he turned his attention to us. "Can you tell us what she's doing?"

"Trouble is what she's doing, Hermano." He chuckled.

"Where's she going?"

"The heart of Las Almas to get intel. She knows it's dangerous, and that's exactly why she's going to do it. You two, along with Rudy and I, are going to follow her and make sure nothing happens. She doesn't seem to understand how dangerous her decision is, and Laswell will kill me if something happens to her."

"When?"

"Tonight."

»»-------¤-------««

Ghost and I took a sniping position on the roof of an abandoned building while Alejandro and Rudolfo took separate positions on the ground as they were more likely to blend in aside from Ghost and me. Well, according to Rudolfo, Ghost could blend in due to his mask, but he didn't seem to like that comment very much.

We waited for a few minutes before I spotted Kiera through my spotter's scope. She was wearing a red casual dress that showed off her figure, and Ghost elbowed me when I accidentally let out a groan at the sight of her.

Yeah, he definitely didn't like that.

I looked at him through my peripheral vision. His finger was off of the trigger, yet his grip on the rifle was tight. Perhaps he was liking what he saw just like I was, but I was going to take advantage of this opportunity and push his buttons. His breathing was heavy like he was trying desperately to focus, but even I knew the reason behind it.

I watched as she was letting some random man get handsy with her, letting him make little touches against the small of her back, clear what his intentions were with her, except he was oblivious to what she was planning.

A deep sigh of sexual frustration left my nose when I watched her force this man into a chair, putting her leg up on his right leg and running his fingers against her calf. Fuck, it was so hot. Especially when I knew just how dominant the lass was. "Fuck, I wish that was me." I mumbled.

It didn't go unnoticed.

"Shut up, Soap. Fuckin' hell." Ghost retorted.

"Don't lie, L.T. You know it's hot." I poked.

"We have a job to do, Sergeant."

"Still didn't answer my question."

"You didn't ask a question."

"You wish it was you down there, huh?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because she's doing her job."

"But if she wasn't doing her job, would you?"

He huffed. Hesitated, even. "What goes through my mind is none of your business, Soap."

"You've got it bad, L.T."

"Got what?"

"You got bit by the love bug," I snickered. "Won't you work your magic and give her an English welcome, eh?"

"Don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, it all makes sense now. The big and scary Ghost has gone phantom for a new comrade."

"No."

"You say that now, but it's happening."

Ghost shook his head and scoffed at me, forcing his focus back onto her.

"One hundred percent happening. That's your future ex-wife right there, mate."

"You have your own intel on me. Now shut it."

"Oh, so you admit it?" I snickered.

"I never admitted anything. Shut your mouth and focus on our job before I purposely get us compromised just to make you focus."

"Simmer out, L.T. I'm just prodding."

"Well, prod someone else."

I couldn't help but laugh. All of us could've been in a silent competition for her attention for all I knew, but out of all of us, Ghost deserved her attention if I were to be honest. By what I knew about him, he had never had a woman to love in his life, and he and Kiera were a lot alike. Perhaps it was because she was a sudden attraction instead of an interest, but either way, Ghost liked what he was seeing and possibly feeling towards her. It was an excitement that every man had experience with, and it was obvious that Ghost hasn't experience it much throughout his life.

For a few minutes, I granted his wish and left him alone as I tried to focus on our assignment.

Ghost's finger hovered over the trigger just in case something was to happen as he saw a lone cartel member nursing on a cigarette with a gun in his hand at the back door of the bar.

I watched with amusement as it looked as if Kiera was nearly kissing this man, except when I adjusted my scope, I could see that she was whispering in his ear, her right arm sneaking down towards the outside of her right thigh, using her fingers to remove the knife that was lodged in a sheath garter before a single swift motion buried the blade into the man's neck. I nudged Ghost's arm out of excitement, "Did you see that?!"

"No, I'm just looking through my scope at nothing." He scoffed.

I shook my head as I continued to watch her through my scope, seeing her rummage briefly through a few things for possible intel before rushing towards the back door of the bar, unfortunately right into the path of the cartel guard that was standing there. Ghost's finger was hovering over the trigger now, waiting for the guard to cross the line, but Kiera beat him to it.

Her gaze was towards the opposite direction of the guard, startled when he grabbed her shoulder. In defense, she delivered two harsh blows into his sternum, causing him to drop his cigarette before she took a nearby stool and jammed it into his jugular, taking the other end of the stool and slamming his head against the concrete before walking away.

"Bloody hell," I shook my head, fighting a smirk at the sight before me. "I don't think she needed our help after all."

"No shit," Ghost scoffed. "She's not out of the woods yet."

"If you two ever start romancing, don't get on her bad side. I like ya too much to be beat to death by a woman out of your league." I teased.

"If you don't shut your mouth, you won't live to speak of this shit to anyone else." He warned.

I chuckled, "Don't forget to give her an English welcome, L.T. Might do ya some good--- Ow!" I hissed, holding my hand against my ribcage in pain when he balled up his left fist and punched my ribcage.

"There's your English welcome, now fuck off."

A few moments of radio silence went by as Ghost and I were collecting our equipment to prepare to meet with Alejandro and Rudy, out of sight of any civilian or cartel member, and especially Kiera. But when we heard white noise and a familiar voice, Ghost and I stared at each other in shock - like we were just caught like two boys with our hand in a cookie jar by our mum. Even with his mask, I could see the expression on Ghost's face.

Fuck, we're caught. How did she even know? The radio was silent for a few moments before she spoke back up again, knowing that we were all too scared to answer her. 

[liskantope]

I've been feeling devastated about last week's disaster of a debate (among other political developments) and see it as evidence that Biden was never a fit candidate for reelection. And at this point I really don't think he has it in him to stick out a job like the presidency all the way until 2029. But I think a lot of people are really overreacting in terms of what kind or variety of weakness it exposed in Biden. I'm a little stunned by how many people -- not generally Republicans or anti-leftists or leftists who have a bias against Biden already, but moderate-left-ish types such as Scott Alexander and Kat Rosenfield -- who seem convinced of things like that the debate shockingly but obviously "proved" that Biden is completely senile, has a clinical level of dementia, is unfit to be president right at this moment (let alone for 4.5 more years), obviously isn't acting as president but must be sitting around dazed while others do the work for him, that the Biden team's insistence that Biden is fundamentally fit has now glaringly been exposed as a complete lie, etc.

One particular narrow range of skills was on display at the debate, and I'm not sure exactly what succinct term to use for it, but it was something like "smooth articulation ability", and it's something I think about a lot as a communicator in my own professional context. There have always been certain mental states I get into (often triggered by stress or sleep deprivation) where words and sentences don't come out as clearly, get caught up in the moment on the wrong beat and get sidetracked, and struggle to get wrapped up without becoming run-ons that lack in a conclusion, where I mumble and stammer easily, and where I have trouble recalling particular words and phrases on the fly, and these contrast dramatically with my moments where the opposite is the case. This especially affects my teaching: it used to fairly often be the case that I had "bad days" where I could tell right from the start of the 75-minute class period that I wasn't going to be able to form thoughts as well as on my "good days". With more experience I've gradually learned how to minimize the "bad days", but I'm still prone to it if I'm not careful. Yet, even at my worst moments of this, it says nothing about my knowledge of the topic I'm teaching about, nor about my fitness in general. It's a very narrow aspect of my mental abilities.

Now one could point out that a huge part of being a politician is being a absolute world-class "smooth articulator". And that's true, and Biden certainly was once, and clearly old age has eroded his ability at this. But it's kind of beside the point when someone is suggesting that stumbling a lot at a debate is evidence of having dementia and being too old for one's job, other than that our being accustomed to politicians being extremely skilled at articulation is obfuscating the fact that for a typical person (whether old and senile or not), having to express one's ideas on the fly in the style of a presidential debate is incredibly difficult. I believe the great majority of adult humans -- including those who are dismissing Biden now, including a lot of the very intelligent and generally articulate among us, including myself -- would probably not be able to do much better than Biden did at that debate if we were placed in his position, and it doesn't say much about our ability to make decisions in the role of US president or about our dementia status.

All that said, what matters most in a presidential debate is the vibes each candidate gives off, and Biden definitely gave off "doddering old man" vibes in just about the worst way possible, which will certainly make a lot of people not feel okay about voting for him, whether or not they've seriously reflected on his capability of performing the actual non-public tasks required of a president.

[qiutls]

TNGDH 003

God, please do something about this damn hamster otaku, please!

“Right now, why is one side of your fur flat?”

Is this your first time seeing a human, no, a hamster who slept on his side all day?

“You look shockingly adorable.”

H-hey, move your mouth away! A muzzle, someone get him a muzzle! Please put this bastard in a muzzle!

The level headed and strict leader of the North, the strongest of the Minehardt empire, the Grand Duke of blood... Bullshit! People sang silly praises as if one look from his eyes is enough to kill thousands.

You can only kiss ten times; ten times is enough! After that, please move your face, okay?!

“Cashew nut, I thought you were sick, you slept for a really long time.”

Unfortunately, I’m perfectly fine. I seem to have heard that hamsters usually sleep long. I didn’t know I would sleep this much as well. Knowing Kyle’s obsession, I should prevent myself from getting sick in the future. It seems like if I cough just one time, he would order to close all of Blake estate’s windows and burn fire in the fireplace until the air is boiling warm.

Kyle, who confirmed that I woke up, took me in his hand again and began to kiss me like crazy. Thanks to you it seems like I’ll die an easy death.

― Squeak [ Let go! ]

Let me go! Are you not going to? I’ll bite you and you’ll see how scary a hamster can be!

[ Quest! Quest! (⊙﹏⊙) ]

The system appeared in a hurry to prevent me from biting Kyle. I was already holding his index finger with both of my hands, ready to sink my teeth into his skin, then I paused and stared still.

Right... I forgot I was supposed to act as a friendly hamster.

He was annoying me so bad that I almost forgot my duty to be a companion hamster and almost bit his finger off. Anyway, at least I didn’t bite him yet.

That’s right, I’m an intellectual, I’m just in a hamster’s body right now, but actually I’m a 27-year-old human who graduated higher education. If I really bit Kyle because I was annoyed, what would be the difference between me and a real hamster!

I’m an intelligent being. That’s right.

“Just now...”

Kyle looked at me with a slightly shocked look. By any chance, did he know I was about to bite him? I felt a little embarrassed and turned my head away.

What about it? Why?

I didn’t bite you. I just put my mouth close to your finger. Anyways, how did you even realize what my intentions were? Do you have such a powerful sixth-sense? As expected of the Northern Grand Duke, at this rate...  

“Cashew nut, did you just try to kiss me just now? That’s so cute.”

Come on! You’re more tactless than a bear... You’re not the Great Northern Duke, you’re just a Great Northern Bear! Anyway, it’s good that I was able to endure the frustration, it seems like the quest was completed safely.

[ Miracle value 1.3% ]

What’s with this number...

When the rewards said a small increase in miracle value, they really meant small... At this rate, how long would it take to be able to come back to life? I’d rather die than suffer this much.

[ (งωง́°) A chance to retain human characteristics! ]

At one ear, I listened to Kyle’s silly praises and on the other I listened to the system’s rewards.

[ You’ll be able to be a hamster that resembles a human. No, you might even be able to turn into a human! ]

That’s great! Good job system! By any chance will I really be able to transform into a human? If you had that power, you should’ve made me human from the start. Transmigrating into a hamster really is bit... Anyways, I’m not giving up on saving Kyle even if I turned human, so please do something about this hamster body!

[ First, run on the hamster wheel for a thousand times! ]

What?

[ Quest: Run on the hamster wheel x1000 ]

[ Reward: “Summon” ]

A thousand times?! Are you kidding me? What the hell does ‘Summon’ mean? Summon a falcon? Are you hearing yourself right now?

I clenched my fist and looked up. You bastard, let me hit you one time before I start the quest, okay? Put your chin close and I’ll punch you just one time!

[ (˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅);;; ]

Don’t cry, tears have no effect on me. Besides not knowing what ‘Summon’ is, are you even in your right mind to make me do one thousand laps on the hamster wheel? It’s not as if the reward is to change into a human immediately.

All right, if you let me know what the reward is, I’ll do the quest. If it’s not good just give me a different quest.

[ It’s a good reward! ]

I raised my clenched fist again. Don’t try to get away with it. I always check a website’s terms and conditions when signing up. I’m not gonna be tricked by a measly system!

[ (́ඉ⌓ඉ);;; ]

While I was struggling with the system, Kyle kept rubbing my forehead, my back and behind my ears. That’s fine, as long as you’re happy. It’s way better than kissing, and it also won’t damage my fur.

[ At best, I can only give you a hint. ]

The system blinked a few times, as if to say sorry.

[ If the quest is more detailed, the conditions for receiving the reward will be tricky. ]

It didn’t seem like a lie, and there’s really no need to lie to me in the first place. Although it’s a bit suspicious, it is helping to save me. It’s even using strange emoticons to look friendly. Anyways, there’s no other way out, I might as well trust this system.

By the way, why do I have to suffer like this for miracle value. If I split the sea like Moses, would that count as a miracle?

[ I'll give you 10%! (✧•⌄•) ]

I’ve split the sea, it’s salty...   He’s lamenting at the fact that splitting the sea is only 10% miracle value.

I looked up at Kyle who was kneading my front paws. Whatever let’s just save this guy. Even though I dropped this novel at the middle, when Kyle was alive, I read this book diligently. Kyle Jane Minehardt was at odds with Belial, the main lead and the second prince of the Minehardt empire. Both of them loved the same woman, and Belial who he was at odds against, often insulted him. After confirming that Kyle is in love with Serena, he began to completely antagonize him.

Come to think of it, did Kyle really love Serena, who said he was a bloodthirsty and tearless duke? It’s hard to imagine why he was so obsessed with the heroine.

“You have pink toes and nose, how fascinating.”

On second thought, I think I can imagine it. Your highness, please don’t do this anywhere else. Men and women of all ages might flee to the southern end of the country if they see you like this. Also, does Your highness know that you look a bit scarier when you smile?

Anyways, it would be really nice if this hamster otaku releases me soon. Right, now I just need to run around for a thousand laps, no more no less. God, why are you punishing such a kind hamster like me.

“Your Highness, are you inside?”

A knock on the door sounded across the room. Hearing the faint sound of footsteps, it must be a servant of the Blake estate. Kyle carefully put me back into the house and straightened his clothes. His face slowly hardened and he looked really cold, like a sharp blade made of only the coldest wind in the north.

“Come in.”

“Your Highness, I think you should take a look around the estate before you go on a mission tomorrow. It just so happens that it’s time for the merchants to arrive.”

"All right.”

His deep and grave voice rang. He looked really serious and did not use any useless words. Kyle talked to this man and handed over the documents that was originally on his desk. Their conversations passed so fast that if I relaxed a little, I would’ve missed three topics.

Although a hamster has no need to know the work of the Grand Duke, just in case...

That’s right, he originally is this type of person.

Somehow, I felt strange the whole time. Seeing his unfamiliar appearance, his tightly closed lips, his calm eyes, his relaxed yet heavy hand gestures, made Kyle look like a completely different person.

This is how he normally is, what he’s like to me is... also another side of his personality.

“I’ll be back.”

There was a shadow over my head, and I saw Kyle looking at me affectionately.

“It must be boring being alone, but just wait a little bit. I’ll be back soon.”

No, this is the estate’s business, you shouldn’t do it half-heartedly! Please check thoroughly before you come back.

Kyle looked at me, his eyes laced with regret, but he left the study without hesitating for long. Indeed, it was the middle of the busy period. It was time for the Blake estate to be noisy, inside and out.

The northern land is barren and half of the year, it is winter. It is often flooded with horses and the imperial family is always looking for the opportunity to remove Kyle, who has become a great duke. So there's a lot of people who will try to kill him, not only through secret assassination attempts, but also openly attacking him. Even then, ten people are not enough to take him down.

It says that the north is flooded with horses, I think its because they export and import a lot because they can’t grow everything they need in the north’s condition. And because there’s a lot of people going in and out of the territory, it’s easy for the imperial family & other nobles who want to take him down to send assassins.

I can help you fight Belial, but there’s no way to stop you from overworking.

Well, it’s a bit funny to worry about a lively spirited man like this. My nose is currently 1/3 the size of my body, I should be worried about me instead. I looked at the wheel and groaned.  

Why is it so big?

Is this still a hamster wheel? It’s more like a Ferris wheel. Running around this, let alone a small hamster, anyone’s joints would fall out. Wait a minute, looking at the gold plating of this wheel’s frame.... Does the Duke of Blake shit money? In fact, people of the north put gold powder instead of cheese on their pasta, right?

Even if I had to run on a small wheel, it’s hard to do it for a thousand rounds, I can already feel my knees hurting thinking of running on this big wheel.

[ Fighting! ]

As a human, I didn’t even work out because I hated running on treadmills. But it’s fine even if I didn’t work out because, I also didn’t eat snacks even if I wanted to. I’m not making an excuse, but all developers are like that anyways. Playing the game I made is also exercise, not to mention, I’m so busy that there’s really no time to work out. I can’t even remember my family’s faces because I was so busy. I never thought I would voluntarily run in this lifetime.

God. I’m dying.

Sure enough, I was already out of breath before being able to run on it properly. I knew I had poor stamina, but combined with a hamster’s endurance, I felt like the weakest person in the whole world. I ran exactly three rounds, and even slipped and fell flat on my face and went around half a turn like that. I really can’t do this.

But listen developers are inherently worse at exercising than others. If I had broad shoulders and good stamina, I wouldn’t be a developer! I would’ve been a health trainer, drinking protein shake in the morning. In our profession, we would succeed even if we didn’t have a healthy body.

Ah, I don’t know. I won’t do it. No, I can’t do it. Just catch and kill me.

[☞☜☞Summon☜☜☜]

The system even made a typo, because of how urgent it wanted to send. The typo is the hand arrows, if you look at it closely.

Whatever. I don’t care whether you’re in a hurry or not, Kyle is far away anyways, so let’s take a nap. There’s only one good thing after transmigrating, taking a nap without having to worry about work is really... It’s the best!

It will look funny if only one side of my fur is flat, let’s sleep on the other side to make it even. I used the sawdust as cushion and curled up to my side. After the interrupter left the room, it was now silent.

It’s been a long time since I felt so relaxed.

Even as a human, this kind of peace was something I never experienced. novel ⠀✿⠀ next

[werewolf-cuddles]

Okay, guess it's time to start an argument at 5am before I go to sleep because I probably hate myself but I'm fucking irritated so here we go

Might be an unpopular opinion but translators losing their jobs to AI is bad actually.

Yeah, yeah, "localization bad", I get there's been some shockingly bad localization changes over the years, but uh

If you think the solution to that is to automate a key part of the translation process, you're about to be in for a rude awakening

Dunno if this makes me an SJW or woke or whatever the buzzword of the week is, but I would absolutely prefer a translation with the occasional localization fuck up than whatever AI generated garbage we get. No question.

EDIT: Welp, the "you reap what you sow" crowd have started spewing their bile on this post, so the reblogs are being switched off for now. I am not putting up with that in my notifications all night.

[voidcat-senket]

"Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss"

Spyscrapper #38 "…because they’re running out of time."

but also Altmal #48 "…out of habit."

Spyscrapper #38 "…because they’re running out of time."

He’s not even shaking anymore. Cal sighs out another long, slow breath from where he’s tucked against Bode. He blinks slowly. The orange of his lightsaber reflects on the metal of Bode’s harness buckle, a flicker of flame. They’ve been here two days, in this cave under a lake, the entrance crumbled behind them, sealed in. Two days drinking the trickle that makes it through the impenetrable layers of rock. Three days, no food- but it’s the breath that’s the problem. Soon, they’ll run out of air. He can already feel how every breath feels thready and not-enough, and blinks when the lights seem to dance in his eyes, low as they are. Bode’s chest rises and falls under him. They’ve curled up, ostensibly, for warmth, but it’s the comfort Cal seeks– needs– most, the comfort of another. He might die here, but he won’t die alone. Bode may not be a Jedi, but he is family now, and getting to die with family- that’s something he thought he’d never get to have.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t talk,” Bode mumbles, a divot pressing between his brows. It’s shorthand, by now. ‘Conserve air as long as possible. Don’t talk, don’t exercise. Someone might come. Greez is looking, he’s always looking after you.’

Cal reached for Bode’s hand. Bode’s fingers curl around his, thumb pressed to the ridges of Cal’s knuckles.

“It’s my fault you’re here, that you’ll die here…” He scoots closer, props his chin on their tangled hands so he can look at Bode’s face.” …And despite that, I’m still glad you’re here with me. So I’m sorry.” Bode’s mouth flattens in response, his closed eyes tightening. Bode turns his head, and when he speaks it’s rough with feeling more than disuse. “Scrapper, don’t.”

“I know…” Cal smiles tightly. All things end. He thought he’d have longer. This is a gentle death, as they go. But Bode- has Kata. “I took you away from someone that needs you.”

Bode flinches. He tries to roll over, but he’s weak and Cal is heavier than he looks. 

“I was being selfish. I wanted more time with you to myself.”

Bode’s eyes crack open, and there’s a look of pure, naked fear Cal has never seen there before- a vulnerability he’s never seen before that injects warmth in his veins. His smile gentles as he brushes a tear from the corner of Bode’s left eye. “I guess I took everything that was left.”

Bode twists, dislodging Cal to shove his face into Cal’s chest- hiding against it. Cal blinks up at the ceiling before curling his hand under Bode’s chin and lifting it from him. He props himself up on one elbow and presses forward.

One last wish. His lips meet Bode’s. They’re shockingly soft.

There’s a whiplash crack through his awareness and water floods the room.

Altmal #48 "…out of habit."

He’s tired. He’s tired more than anything, sore from fighting and sorer from the death of so many of his brothers. There’s a pain he can’t handle in his chest, twisted and strange, and for now he can only attribute it to the golden light that Al Mualim had wielded.

Sleeping again in Masyaf feels strange, unreal. He hasn’t been here since he left, his left arm still bloody and bandaged, for Jerusalem. The room he once shared with Altair and Kadar seems far too small for one adult, and he wonders how the three of them ever fit here- not that Altair was supposed to. That boy had had a room of his own. He’d never liked it, though, and he always complained that it was too cold, if asked. If asked why he was sneaking into their room, into their shared pile of blankets on the cot on the floor- when all were asleep.

It’s morning. He should get up. He should assist the survivors with cleanup.

He rode here so quickly yesterday. The fields soaked up so much blood. He slips back into the daze of half-sleep.

Time travels with the sun.

The light leaves his window but still, he hasn’t gotten up. His stomach grumbles, but he ignores it by practice. He’d hear if more fighting was needed. He’d always been able to hear the courtyard from this narrow little window.

He drifts back to sleep. A bird lands on the sill, screeches when it notices him, and flies away. He drifts back to sleep.

There’s a commotion in the yard. The voices are garbled at first, but with careful listening he picks out a tearful reunion. Brothers that had thought each other lost. He drifts back to sleep. A warm body presses under his arm, as Altair and Kadar always used to, one or the other, Altair from late training and Kadar from his midnight walks. He huffs as they squirm to comfort, and kisses the head of hair when it finally stills, as he used to. He drifts back to sleep.

“It’s morning, Malik,” a voice whispers into his ear. His nose scrunches, then his brows, and he rolls away from the intrusion, pulling a thin pillow over his head. “Habibi,” the eagle chuckles, taking the pillow away. “You can’t spend two days in a row in this child’s cot.”

“Then stop me.” He grumbles.

“I’ll tell everyone you kissed me.”

Malik glares. He takes the edge of the sheets and pulls them over his head, resolutely curling up on his side.

Altair laughs as he lifts to his feet and wanders out, closing the door quietly.

Growling, Malik throws the sheets from him and rises. The problem is– Altair would.

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Dark Signs

Astarion x F! Dark Urge, Set in Act 1

18+ violence, death, dark urge shenanigans, pining, complicated feelings, heavy petting, blood drinking, fingering (f!), thigh riding, restraint, oral (f!), menstruating, Astarion being a freak, tenderness

After killing Alfira in her sleep, she can't help but seek him out...

-

"You know, I dont really even care that you killed her," he laughs, eyes unburdened.

The blood still in her hair, she stared at him. A deep and festering war inside her mind at his words.

The poor girl hours dead, she couldn't bear to hide her, to run from what she had done. So she left her there, stared at her beautiful corpse until morning. Until the others woke and discovered her sin.

The rage and disgust in their words, in their hearts were shockingly short lived. Forgiving her too easily. Of all of the transgressions, that scared her the most. They still trusted her, still relied on her.

"Well," She shoved all of her thoughts further down her throat. "I feel terrible about it."

He was the only one she hadn't spoken to about her urges. Had broached the subject with everyone else in camp, if only to ready them. There's something inside me, something that demands blood. They hadn't understood naturally, the gravity of the situation lost on them. But at least they were warned.

Having precious little chance to talk, with him being rather closed off, she hadn't had a chance to alert him.

I am a weapon, dont get closer than you need to.

But his words now, the lack of judgment, the lack of care in his eyes. It... comforted her, despite herself.

She should be punished, in words and coldness, abandonedment. Hells even death, and yet...

Why aren't you afraid of me?

The merriment and spirits floated, the tiefling refugees chattering happily. Not allowing herself any inebriation, she smiled at Halsin. Encouraged him to mingle, to have fun. Leaning in, her hand on his arm to be heard over the revelry.

Feeling the prickle of eyes on her neck, she looked up.

Crimson eyes beckoning to her.

Feeling her stomach flip she turned back to Halsin, letting an easy smile on her face as he reassured her.

No, not this. Not him.

Traveling together since that awful night, she had found herself... fascinated by him.

She had managed to stifle her feelings, keeping her yearning close to her chest. But Gods was it there.

Keeping him in her party he was unavoidable. She had considered leaving him at camp if just to see him less, but he was too good at what he does.

The way his nimble hands would twist when she needed assistance with a locked chest. Drawling voice at her back as they walked. His arrows coming down on high to strike through the chest of an enemy prey right in front of her.

She had touched herself to that memory in her tent only nights ago.

Steeling herself, she approached. Hells, what did he want?

"You know, I never saw myself a hero." He started, wine bottle sloshing in his hand. She eyed it, realizing that he can drink. Assumed that he could only drink blood. Felt another shiver at the thought. She would like to drink his blood for a change.

"But now that I'm here, I hate it. This is awful."

She laughed, surprised. Responding before she could stop herself, "Well you got to kill lots of goblins, that was fun." Felt hot shame rise up her collar at her indiscretion.

He smiled, eyes softening. "That was fun, wasnt it."

The roaring in her chest got much louder.

Allowing herself some banter, they chatted. Flirted, even. Throwing lines back and forth, until she had somehow agreed to meet him later. Alone.

She kept her face light and neutral as they parted ways, but the moment her back was turned from him. Panic. Dear Gods, panic.

Oh this was a problem, a multifaceted problem.

She should not be alone with anyone, especially someone so beautiful. He would make such a pretty corpse.

Pacing in her tent she was a mess. She should stay here, dont go. Dont go to him. For the love of all that is good, do not go.

A vision of his eyes when he fed on her, his mouth when he pouts. The way his breeches hugged his hips, the veins in his forearms.

Her tent flapped shut behind her, feet moving swiftly.

"There you are," He purred, stepping from the treeline. Chest bare, hair catching the moonlight.

No words possible, she pulled her tunic off. Hot with need. Taking her chest bindings off in the same motion.

Saw his eyes widen in surprise. "My, eager are we?" He crooned, stepping closer.

"Shut up," She traveled the distance between them. Fingers in his hair, on his hip. Pulling his mouth down to hers. Lips crashing.

She had to get it out or she would erupt.

He groaned into her, lifting her up to push against a nearby tree. Oh he shouldn't be manhandling her like this.

Wrapping her hips around his waist she kissed him hungrily, greedily. The last meal of a woman on the gallows. The one piece of relief she would allow herself.

Hips already grinding into him, seeking. An animal call. Heat. Madness.

Flipping her onto the ground he began pulling her leathers off. Lifting her hips to help him, the bite of small stones against her shoulders bringing her small clarity. Her pelvis ached, her head swimming.

He looked into her eyes, heavy with lust but something else... a twinge, a hint. Fear, she realized.

Her heart sank, he could feel it. The madness inside her. Slowing, she trailed her hand tender to his cheek.

Looking at her again, his eyes widened. She bared her neck to him.

Leaning down on his forearms, he sank into her. The cold chill welcome against her feverish skin. Trailing a tentative hand into his hair. Her long nails scratching lightly.

A quiet moan into her wound. Felt him shiver against her. Encouragement.

Hand still in his hair she let her other hand slip onto his neck, touching lightly. Trailing up to his ear.

Immediate, he bit down hard on her. Hips grinding against her thigh.

The heat rising again she ran her thumb along the long point, in awe. He groaned into her, wrapping his arms around her waist he hitched her up to him. Chest to chest, straddling. Him still pulling from her neck.

"Oh Gods," She moaned quietly. The hazy miasma of lust overwhelming her again. Hips ablaze, grinding into his cold thigh. The leather of his breeches soaking.

His hand gripped her ass, pulling her harder into his leg. Heard a low growl from his chest.

Panting, she rode against him. His sharp mouth still pinning her in place against him. The slick pressure in her pelvis rising. Hands reaching for his chest, his back, something, anything to ground herself.

His pale ones, quick as lightning, found her wrists. Pulling them against her lower back, snaring them down in one hand. Her eyes hitched back. Yes, restrain me.

Still riding into him, she felt herself getting lightheaded. Though it wasn't unwelcome, Gods, anything to empty her head, knew she was losing too much blood.

"Astarion, stop," She breathed. He groaned into her flesh, still pulling.

Wrapping her thighs strong around his leg, she squeezed as hard as she could. Trying to pull him from his trance.

With the last of her strength she bit him, hard, on the shoulder. Muffled her own moan when she realized she had drawn blood. Her own blood spilling back into her mouth. Oh no, oh fuck.

He pulled off of her, gasping. The pain waking him. Looked, shocked and ashamed, into her eyes. "I'm sorry, Caron."

Hearing her name, her chosen name, her eyes watered. No, she didn't want to hurt him. She could stop.

"I'm okay," She reassured tiredly, the ever present headache receding slightly at the bloodshed. "Are you okay?" She added quietly.

He blinked at her, eyes layered in many emotions. None she could pick out with certainty.

"Darling, I'm splendid." He drawled, lying, she could tell. "Now, if you dont mind I'd like to finish ravaging you."

Confusion spiked through her. Certain that they were done, the spell thoroughly broken.

"Wait," She whispered, as his hands slid to her core. He paused, eyes searching hers.

"You dont have to, I'm okay to stop." She looked into his eyes, hoping her sincerity reached him.

Saw him swallow, eyes wavering for a moment, then coming back.

"Lay back, sweet thing." He hushed, urging her gently onto her back again. Pushing her thighs apart to accommodate him. Sliding down between them.

She sighed as she felt his breath against her thigh, letting her head fall back. Her body responding once again. Realized that the nausea backed away when he touched her. The pain, though still present, distant.

Felt a tear of relief slide down her face, glad he was too far down her body to see it.

Heard a small gasp and looked up, panicked. "Oh," He breathed, fingers swiping up her, holding them to the light. Blood.

She had started her cycle it seemed. Groaning, getting up onto elbows, about to start cleaning up. His eyes flashed.

"Dont you dare," Felt a thrill in her chest, his fingers entering his mouth. Tongue splaying, twisting along his hand. Lost in it.

She clenched, pulsing, against nothing. Her breath hot little gasps.

"This is a gift." He marveled, leaning back down. Moaned at the fresh blood her pulsing had pushed out.

Mouth crushing into her without warning. His tongue working in frenzy. Taking as much of her in as he could.

She moaned loud, arched against him. Hips already squirming.

He hooked his arms around her thighs to keep her from retreating. Slurping, suckling. Tongue crushed velvet, hot, seeking.

When he clamped down around her clit, tongue pulsing, she thought she was dying. Stars blooming behind her eyes. Body going rigid.

One hand coming down on the skin below her navel, flat, a gentle hold.

"Fingers," She whimpered out, his mouth driving her to the brink. But still she needed more.

"What was that, darling?" He mused, lifted to look at her. Gore-dripped mouth smiling.

Oh Gods, the heat. The bloodlust.

"Put your fingers in me. Now." Her voice unrecognizable to her. Low, demanding.

His eyes flashed again, pupils widening. Jaw tightening. Looking down at her like prey.

Oh only if he knew.

His two fingers slid inside her, eyes still trained on hers. Watching her head lean back, hips rising. Watched her shiver as he hooked his fingers. Smiling like a fox that caught a rabbit.

Satisfied, he leaned his mouth back down to his work. Fingers still pulling, slowly.

When the dual sensations hit her, his hungry mouth, his clever fingers, she writhed and whimpered. Hands in his hair, trying her hardest not to pull.

Her body was so tender, every touch tenfold, her cycle thoroughly started. Pinching her sensitive nipple. Clenched down hard on his fingers, pushing out more blood slick. Felt his growl reverberate against her. Tongue lapping around his fingers.

Oh she was close, her limbs feverish. The viper coiled, about to strike.

Her mind flooded. A dagger, plunging. An arterial wave of blood. Them, twisted into eachother, gore smeared. Straddled over their prey. His fingers pushing the viscera inside her.

She shrieked against him. Her end hitting her like an impaling spear. Hands gripping his hair. Arching her back so hard she heard a crack. Eyes screwed shut tight. Vicous waves of annihilating pleasure.

He eagerly lapped up all of the creamy blood slick that poured out of her, rubbing her clit, encouraging more.

She bucked against his hand, clenching again and again. His mouth catching it all.

She fell back, collapsing into the earth. All thoughts, all threatening, gone from her mind.

The night air heavy with their pheromones, the blood. Both smells intoxicating her. A spike of shame.

Well, almost all thoughts.

"Why aren't you afraid of me?"

It had slipped out, a near whisper, before she could stop herself.

He had laid down next to her, looked over at her now. Eyebrows threaded together, confused. Shit.

Stared at her for a moment then he laughed, face relaxing. "Oh please, you killed someone. Darling, I think you forget you're in the presence of a monster." Leaned down to draw little circles on her sternum. "You're not the only one who craves blood around here."

"You're not a monster."

He looked up at her, his eyes round. Soft. Her heart fluttered. Then they settled back into their guard.

"Common minds would disagree." Smiled at her, head tilting. "But you're not common, are you?"

Now she laughed, snorting. Everything about this so funny suddenly. Two killers seeking eachother in the grass.

He laughed with her, her light seeming to overcome him.

"Gods we should kill someone together."

She laughed even harder, falling into him.

~

Part 2