#desperate to see wet leg their my next big one i want to see ive seen declan. three times? mitski once but i gotta see wet leg b4

[steelycunt]

You’re very into your old school artists (which I love! No judgement!). Just wondering though, are there any modern artists you’re a fan of?

hi! absolutely! with modern artists i guess there are fewer i would consider myself a fan of because i have a lot of modern music by a lot of different people, so often for each artist i only have about. three songs. whereas for older artists because the way i got into them was different, usually i have a lot of music but by a few specific artists. but definitely i would say for modern artists (not sure what we're considering modern--im saying anyone who's released an album since 2010 from which i have songs in my library xx) i am a fan of mitski, declan mckenna, fiona apple, wet leg, big thief, peach pit, sufjan stevens xx

[jangofctts]

Ma’am I’m dying out here. It’s always “Void will wreck you in the fresher” and “Void has the third best stroke game of the squad” but never “Here I wrote a lil blurb of Void wrecking your shit”

Please I need we need it

smH YOURE RIGHT IVE BEEN DENYING YALL KJEKEJH

ct-7775 void // fem!reader

warnings: shower sex 

You’re not quite sure when this became a regular occurrence--a couple months ago you think. Sorta like date night, except in the fresher...naked and undoubtedly against regulations. That’s what makes it fun you suppose--a little late night thrill.   

Not like anyone would find you, you specifically chose time slots around midnight so you’d have the entire fresher block to yourself--an ingenious idea and totally worth waking up with wet hair in the morning. You just--well you didn't expect someone else to have the same idea. Safe to say it was a little jarring to cross paths naked and afraid, soaped up and scrambling for a towel with Sunburst squadron’s finest and only medic. Void. 

To be fair, he hadn't even seen you. It was the end of your shift, tunnel vision on one thing, and one thing only. A nice hot fresher and certainly not a naked you. 

With neither of you willing to budge and shuffle around schedules, you came to the brilliant conclusion that you could both shower at the same times--just so long as you both kept your eyes to yourselves. Funny how that rule barely lasted two weeks.    

Safe to say, it’s been the best sex you’ve ever had. And all done in a fresher for kriff’s sake. 

Once or twice every week you have Void all to yourself--that permanent scowl and grumpy mannerisms washing away with the flow of water and the warmth of your skin. A completely different man--one briefly unburdened with the weight of keeping his brothers alive and well just to send them off to battle the next day. You don’t mind being his distraction--as fleeting as it may be.   

Tonight is no different as the solid line of his body slips in behind you, filling in the limited amount of space left in the tiny space. And you mean tiny. You can move without challenging your flexibility or banging your elbows and knees against the walls.

The touch of Void’s palm over your ribcage pulls a pleased sigh from your lungs. His fingers tickle up your shoulder blade and sweeps your hair, plastered to the nape of your neck, to the side. “Let me see you...”

You turn without hesitation, giggling as Void’s hand cups your cheek, his thumbs jumping up to smooth down your eyebrows and wick away the rivulets of water. Before you have the chance to greet him, Void tugs you forward into a deep, toe-curling kiss, shuddering as the cool durasteel of the wall touches your back. You break away and place your palm over his cheek. leans into your palm and smiles as your thumb lands right over the little blue dot tattooed onto his cheek.

“How was it today?”

“Sweets got a splinter and Fuse burned himself playing with matches again.” Void grumbles, sliding his other hand up to cup one of your breasts. He pinches your nipple and rolls it between his forefinger and thumb, plucking out a gasp from your parted lips. “All I could think about was you--always distractin’ me.”  

You roll your eyes. “Boohoo--baby is distracted by my tits. You’re lucky I like you.”  

Void buries his face into the crook of your neck, nips at your ear and hooks his arm around your waist. “Mhm. If I accidentally kill someone, s’because of you.”  

You slide your fingers through his hair, a bit long once it’s wet and free from his headband--you give the strands a playful jostle. Void tilts his head, skims his lips over the line of jaw and steals another kiss--when he pulls away he hesitates here for a moment--simply drinking in the shape of you, every freckle and little wrinkle, grafting it into his memory for eternity. It’s a two way mirror however--

The bags under his eyes, like two swaths of purpling bruisers, are worse than last week and Maker--do they ever give this man a break? “Void--when’s the last time you slept?”

He blinks rapidly and shoves his head back into the crux of your shoulder to avoid your scrutiny. “Don’t worry about it.”

You frown. You’ll push him about it later, because right now? He’s trailing tiny, addicting kisses from your shoulder up to your ear, your blood already singing even though the chaste pecks border innocent. You gasp as those kisses morph into nips, sucking sure to be bruises into the flesh, marking you just below the line of where the collar of your uniform ends.

The arm around your waist skims further down, grabbing a handful of your ass and roughly squeezing.  You whimper, curling further into his hold as liquid heat races from the pit of your stomach and outward to each and every limb. He worms his muscled thigh between your legs, pinning you further against the wall, the hand on your ass snaking back to massage tiny circles over your thigh. You whimper and thread your fingers into the wet strands of his hair, arching into his chest.

“Fuck--you’re a vision,” Void pants, “So beautiful.”  

He moans low in the back of his throat as your hand gently encompasses his cock, thick and swelling to its full length in your palm. “I could say the same about you, handsome.”

 Void shudders and sags into your hold, huffing out curses and roughly parting your thighs further apart. You whine and press your head into the wall as he hikes your thigh up and around his hip. He then slides two of those thick, calloused fingers pass over your clit, throbbing and aching to be touched. Your own slick mixed with the aide of the water let the two digits glide with ease over your lips, rocking down to circle your clenching entrance then back to lightly trace the little bundle of nerves.

His cock jumps in your grip as you whine his name, needy and desperate as you roll your palm up and down his cock. He curses under his breath, and bites your earlobe. “You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”

You groan as he pushes a finger into your cunt, the muscles squeezing around him for just a shred of pleasure. “Yes--please, Void--fuck me.”

“Such a filthy mouth.” He chastises with a dark chuckle.

You groan out your frustration as you roll your hips, your nails digging into his bicep to pull him closer. He must take pity on your squirming, pathetic display as he abruptly extracts his finger and drops your thigh. 

Your stomach drops as your bare feet slip off the tiles, yet the heavy muscled weight of Void’s chest pinning you forward saves you from landing ass over heels. He’s stronger than he looks, a fact you’re confronted with as he scoops your knee over his elbow and squishing you further into the wall. “Careful, mesh’la--wouldn’t want a trip to med bay, now would we?”  

You swear and dig you nails into his shoulder, slippery from the water. He grips his cock in one hand and slides the thick head over the wet slit of your cunt, the tip of him catching against your dripping entrance.

You jerk and press your hips back. “V-Void…”

Your breath catches in your throat as the very tip of him, searing hot and harder than tempered steel, pushes into you. It feels the same with each time he fucks you, that pinch and fluttering panic low in your stomach that he’s too big. You squirm and whine as he rocks his hips forward, the little motions seating him deeper into your greedy center. Maker— you think it’ll go on forever, with no room to accommodate him.

“There you go,” he babbles, his breathing a mess of pitchy moans and praise, muffled by the spray of water. “Fuck—such a good girl. Taking it all.”

You shiver despite the temperature of the water, twitching in his hold as the narrow dip of his waist slots against your cunt. Your name flows past his lips, the enamel of his teeth tugging at the fragile skin lining the base of your neck.

Stars— your thoughts are pulverized into dust with the first tentative rolls of his hips. There’s no buildup to the pace he sets or patience as his fingers dig into your ass while the other anchors to the wall. 

It’s a ridiculously short amount of time, you think, as your orgasm creeps down each vertebrae, your cunt clamping down on his cock tighter than a fucking vice. One last roll against your clit and you’re done for. So fucking gone.    

The edges of your entire universe drop off into some unknown mystery--bursts of white light igniting behind your eyelids as you're brought over the edge.

“Shit—get so fucking wet when you cum,” Void snarls. “And tight. S-so fucking tight.”

You’re not allowed to float down from your high, not until he also reaches his end. Until then you’re forced through the rough scrap of the last dregs of your pleasure, his abdomen scraping agains your throbbing clit. The loud, wet slaps of his hips meeting your cunt echoes in the tiny space, accentuates every hitched moan and sharp whimper. Void’s hand slips off the wall and buries it into your hair at the base of your skull, tugging sharply as your core clenches around his cock.

“M’close,” he pants, his breath humid against your skin. “Can I—fuck--can I cum in you?”

You nod with a shuddering whine. 

Your nerves burn as you slip your own hand down to toy with your clit, a simple brush over the nerves and your careening off the edge again. Your cries are a jumble of incomprehensible babbles--the only thing you manage to latch onto is his name. 

With a dangerously loud curse, Void’s bruising pace quickens, frantic as he chases his own release. Void’s hips stutter, the hand in your hair tightening into a fist as his teeth embed themselves over your shoulder. With one—two last thrusts of his hips, he cums. Ropes of his release coats your insides, throbbing and twitching until he’s spent, left with the ambiance of quick panting and the trickle of water.

Stars, you can’t fucking think.  

With a grunt he stumbles back as much as he can in the limited space, the absence of his cock leaving his cum to dribble out and slip down the inside of your thigh. You’re still squeezing your eyes shut, jittery and unable to move from your current spot without the risk of stumbling to your knees.

Void dips his head and steals a kiss, dragging his tongue deep into your mouth. He groans and keeps you here, leading you through soft kisses and a careful dance of something more than just a simple fuck in a fresher. You’re not sure if you’re allowed to breach that gentle space between you—grasp something tangible with uncertain promises and stolen minutes as sunlight fills the space between your heart and lungs.

He kisses your cheek, breaking away before either of you slip and tumble into uncharted territory. Another time maybe—not in the middle of a war and certainly not in a communal shower.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. And it’s enough—it has to be enough.

[bibliocratic]

I come bearing a sort-of fic idea! (Only if you feel inspired to use it, of course 😊) Back in ep 101, Martin figures out that/where the Stranger has taken Jon, and goes all BAMF to save him, using either Web powers or his developing Backup Archivist powers to do it. (Dealer's choice) Some of that sweet sweet emotional h/c...

Dearest anon, this fic has been so long in the writing, and it’s only distantly related to what you asked for. Hope you like it regardless. :)

Set in an S3 AU, implied JonMartin. Tim-centric.

Content warnings for strongly implied graphic violence, canonical S3 captivity and imprisonment, hospitals and hospitalisation.  Rated T for language and implied violence

Jon’s skittering, sprawl-legged slam against the archive door startles Tim from the shadowed walkways of his reveries.

The tilted legs of his chair thump back in a slap to the floor. Almost physically wrenched into the now, there’s a snapback to Tim’s spine, a vice-clench knot tightening in his jaw. His mood cranking up from frosty to furious.

“The fuck?” he barks at the intrusion. His snarling primed with teeth, his temper clawed to rend. He’s up and standing, whereas Jon’s practically handing off the door handle, the impact of his arrival almost knocking his legs out like ten pins from under him. An ugly, airless heaving of his chest. His eyes bloodshot, wild. In the weeks since Tim saw him, his hair has grown out unwashed and limp. His skin shimmering wrong in the light in a way that’s oddly greasy.

He’s a shattering mannequin of a man tending to ruin but Tim’s long pared down his own capacity for compassion. He loads up his questions in their chambers, and he knows where to place emphasis, where to press at the bruising, the soft-tissue targets; where the hell have you been, oh wait, don’t fucking bother, why would you even tell us anything anyway huh, because you don’t even trust us. So why the bloody hell should we care where you go galivanting off to for weeks without a word, fine by us, just fucking peachy.

“Martin,” Jon rasps out finally. His words floundering beached in his mouth, and Tim has never seen this particular mania, this bruise-sick shade of pathetic desperation. “T-tim, please, help, please, god, i-i-it’s Martin.”

Jon’s spasming, quivering hands are staining brown with blood.

-

“He wouldn’t have just left! Not – not like – like this!”

“You mean without saying anything. Not sharing with the class. I dunno, Martin, sounds exactly like something he’d have done. Classic Jon.”

“I’m telling you, something’s wrong!”

“Ha – everything’s wrong. Narrow it down.”

“You know what I mean! Something’s… He should be here, is all I’m saying, and Elias, well he’s useless but he – he knows something, I’m sure of it. We have to do something.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know! Find him!”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to be found. Huh, what about that? Maybe he’s finally managed to fuck off and leave here, legged it and left the rest of us to rot.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do.”

“We should – ”

“No. No, listen, Martin. This isn’t a team sport. Jon made his choice to go this alone. If he’s gone off somewhere, then that’s on him. There’s no ‘we’.”

“There used to be.”

-

Martin didn’t come in for work, and Tim assumed he’d left. Just like Jon.

He’d stewed in that betrayal, pacing lupine and furious, bricking up the walls of himself with his self-righteous anger. Because he’d been right, hadn’t he, he’d been vindicated in his bitterness, because of course Martin had left scurrying after Jon, of course there was never any loyalty to Tim despite his pretensions to their friendship. Of course, Martin hadn’t fucking stayed, and Tim was glad he was gone, free of his nagging and needling and whining.

Tim was acquitted in all his furies, every one of his poisonous doubts. The rose-thorns of his betrayals tore deeper, and he let the wounds fester.

-

Elias arrives in the aftermath.

Jon collapsed not too long ago. Shock and dehydration and whatever the hell happened to him threaded through him like blood poisoning. He’d babbled to the ambulance crews, his tongue a senseless oracle of clowns and skin and blood. They’d given him a shock blanket, the foil treating the light around them erratically, but he kept shaking it off and trying to stand, dressed in grubby boxers, an overlong coat, the fabric worn to grey at the pockets and stretched to billowing at the chest, clearly belonging to Martin.

It was hard for Tim to hate him like that, even as he’d barked at Jon to stay down. Jon’s face a theatre mask of ghoulish blood, begging the paramedics to help Martin, manic and spiralling.

The old bastard had had a heart after all.

There’s a bank of chairs outside the part of the ward where they’re keeping Jon. He’s pin-cushioned with IV’s, a set of machines monitoring his vitals. He wakes fitfully, and every waking is a pitiful confusion before he sinks back under.

Martin’s still in surgery.

Elias, deigning to leave his ivory tower, his face formed in an impeccable replica of concern. He wants to speak to Jon. To have, as he put it, ‘a private word’. He talks a precisely ordered stream of bullshit in his infuriatingly reasonable tone, about all this being such a terrible tragedy, such a blow to their little family, if only they’d known. Poor Martin, of course, what a horrible ordeal, we’ll naturally help him with recovery, cover any time off, no expense considered.

Tim watches his mouth move, and knows in his gut that Elias could have stopped all this.

That he chose not to.

Elias doesn’t get within a hundred feet of Jon. Tim makes sure of it.

-

Jon does not speak for days. Delirious and distraught. Martin’s condition worsens, then stabilises, then lingers at critical. There are several more operations, and Tim does not know what they are doing, only that they are reforming a heap of blood and bone back into a person.

Tim wants to know what happened. Where Jon went, where Martin found him, who he needs to hate.

Tim learns to temper his frustration, the desire for knowing that curls at the bottom of his stomach. It is not a natural wanting, and it’s a spiteful, gleeful action, to deny that rot within him.

-

“Tim?”

“Stay still, boss,” Tim says. “You’ll pull everything out.”

Jon doesn’t say anything more for a long while. Tim shifts uneasy on the chair provided, thinking, hoping that Jon might have sunk back into sleep, when:

“Martin? Is he…?”

Jon turns his head to look at him. His eyes wide, beseeching, wet with fear. Wanting Tim to make this all ok.

Jon’s eyes in this light are a lot like Danny’s. Tim sucks back a hard breath, and doesn’t meet his gaze, and he knows that only distresses Jon further, who will take the avoidance as a death knell, as a punishment he is expecting to have earned.

“He’s alive, boss,” Tim says eventually. The words hard won. “He’s… he’ll be alright.”

That could be a lie. He doesn’t know much these days.

-

“Th-there was a room,” Jon stammers one day. He’s sat up, pillows stuffed behind his back. Tim’s bought him an apple juice carton like you buy for children, and he hasn’t touched it, even to push the plastic straw through the top.

His fingers at his lap twist, twist, twist.

“It must have been a … a factory floor, or something. One of those old textile mills or something, up near Manchester. It used to have those big machines for spinning cotton, there were big, discoloured spaces on the boards where they would have sat. There were columns, load-bearing, every fifty feet or so, and t-the chair that they – they had me tied to was anchored against one of those s-so it didn’t – so I couldn’t move it, or knock it over. I-I don’t know how long I was… I.” Jon stops, out of breath. “I don’t even know the date.”

Tim tells him. Jon blinks, and murmurs ‘oh’ like it’s not what he was expecting. His hands are shaking. Tim should reach out, shouldn’t he, it should not be this difficult to provide comfort.

His hands have forgotten how easily reassurance used to come to him.

“Th-they didn’t, they didn’t hurt me. Not, well, not exactly, I-I-I mean, it wasn’t – they wanted me unharmed.” Jon’s voice has crept small and crouched, words tuck under his tongue. “They were waiting. For the right time. They were going to t-take my, um, my skin. For their – for the ritual.”

“Christ.” Tim hisses out, because that is fucked, this whole thing is fucked. How the hell is this the way their lives have turned.

Only Jon’s fingers, his restless hands make noise for the next minute.

“I don’t know how Martin found me,” Jon says.

Tim has a creeping suspicion. It’s the same thing that helps Tim spits out exactly the right seeds to allow hurt to take root. What told Martin that there was something wrong. He could call it intuition, but that’s not how their world works.

Gifts, of a sort. For their faithful service at the temple of their all-seeing god.

“He tried to get me out. Snuck in somehow, cut the ropes with this – huh, this battered old kitchen knife. But I couldn’t… they’d had me tied to the chair for so long that standing up was… I couldn’t walk, and it’s my fault, he was half-carrying me but – I slowed him down, a-and then Nikola came back. And I couldn’t do, I couldn’t do anything, there’s never anything I can do, and they pulled me away and I. I tried, Tim, I-I tried, and I wasn’t… please, Tim, you’ve got to believe I tried to stop them.”

Jon’s fingers are moving to fist in his hair, yanking, tugging, his spine moving to fold himself over.

“Stop,” Tim says sharply. Trying to loosen Jon’s clenched hold.

“I tried, I tried – everything, I offered them anything they wanted, and they just kept – I-I-I tried, Tim.”

“I know,” Tim replies. Quieter. Softer. Separating Jon’s hands from his hair, pressing them back down to his lap, his burnt one held over the other pocked with worm scars. Tim doesn’t move his own away from the fragile tower they’ve made. “I – I know, Jon.”

“Martin – there was more of them. It was easy for them, to hurt him until he stopped struggling. They didn’t tie him up, they knew they didn’t need to. A-and Nikola, she was… she s-s-smiled as they pushed him over onto his back. She – she kept smiling. And she said they didn’t need the two of us. That they could have a bit of fun, a bit of – ” Jon’s voice chokes horrified. “A bit of practise. And wouldn’t I like that. To watch. To give the Eye something to look at.”

Jon crumples into tears then. In on himself like a disintegrating star. Tim feels cold and distant for a moment as he watches this shipwreck as though through the porthole of another boat. Listening to Jon’s hitching sobbing from elsewhere.

The rage is burning off him to reveal something plain and hideous in its humanity, and Tim hates it.

Jon falls apart, and Tim stays.

-

“You know your Archivist killed them all? He’s got a bit of a temper on him after all. Must be all that repression.”

The newest form of the Distortion still smiles like a headache. Her fingers curve corkscrewing. Tim, who is trying to get a Snickers from the vending machine two wards along from Jon, whips his head around to glower at the unwelcome visitor.

“What do you want?”

The Distortion, who has previously called themselves Michael, and is now still Michael but not entirely, whose face has refracted into a different form – there’s been a sort of change in management, if you like, except, well, that’s not really it at all, but do feel free to call me Helen.

“I was hoping for a teeny bit of gratitude. I was the gallant rescue, after that assistant of yours blundered in and made such a pig’s ear of it.”

Tim snarls. The Distortion’s expression wavers displeased.

“Ooh, touchy, alright. Calm down, firecracker. I bought them both back breathing for you. Your Archivist would be still strapped to a chair in Stockport if it wasn’t for me, to say nothing of that woebegone assistant. Blood all over my carpets.”

Tim ignores her. The glint in her eyes suggests she’s disappointed not to have riled him up.

“What now then?”

“Well, you won’t have to worry about the Circus for a while! Dear Jonathan’s seen to that quite splendidly. Knew he had it in him. Although, I suspect, even he didn’t know he could. The Circus was always good at pushing too far.”

“And you. What about you?”

The Distortion’s smile reflects a hundred alternatives.

“Oh, I’m just waiting to see what happens next.”

-

Tim’s thoughts have been straying to Danny a lot. Naturally, all things considered, his trauma’s head reared high and made horrifically manifest.

Jon is not like Danny was, too stiff and self-conscious in his own bones. But Danny’s skin had been lit up with that same live-wire intensity that last night, smeared in shadows and exhaustion and tears that shone foreign on his cheeks. Tim had not recognised the crying, silent, shaking stranger in his room, just as he barely recognises Jon.

Watching him finally fall apart holds no victory for any of them.

Martin is not like Danny was. Taller, for one, wound-up over tight in his own clockwork of fears. He’d be about Danny’s age though. Maybe.

Danny went back to the Covent Garden Theatre, alone, and the being that had then gone by the name of Joseph Grimaldi had torn off his skin as easily as wrapping paper.

Martin went alone. He didn’t ask Tim for help, because he knew Tim would have said no, and there’s an ashy shame coating his tongue, knowing it would have been true.

It’s powerlessness that’s snarled him up in barbed wire, toothless and immobile. Tim’s felt powerless for a long time. That is not going to stop.

But his anger hasn’t protected him. Hasn’t protected Jon. Certainly hasn’t protected Martin.

Jon is not in bed when Tim goes back during visiting hours. The nurse directs him to another ward, indicating in few words that this jaunt was neither encouraged nor advised, but the patient was not one to be dissuaded.

Sounds like Jon.

The man himself has dressed erratically in the spares Tim bought. A t-shirt that is divorced from his own style, the colouring drawing him over-sallow, the jeans too short and trailing above his ankle. He’s squashed himself into a chair, his back folded like a shepherd’s crook, his scatter-shot energy spent into exhaustion. His hand in Martin’s wrapped one.

Martin’s awake. The ministrations of the Circus left his face mostly alone, clear enough for tubing to be threaded into his nostrils and down his throat but the bandaging is extensive. Tim would have thought he’d be away with the fairies on morphine by now, and rightly so, but his jaw sets imperious when he sees Tim. He doesn’t let go of Jon’s hand.

“You doing alright there, Marto?” Tim asks. There is another chair nearby that’s been left by a visitor long gone, and he drags it over. Tim chooses to keep his voice low, chooses to squash the anger that sparks up in him at the violence done to Martin’s body.

“What does it look like?” Martin replies. Not snapping, no wisp of anger there, but there’s a pained whipcord strain to his response, a forced pace to his breathing.

“I thought they’d have you on the good stuff,” Tim says after a moment.

Martin gestures with imprecise movements at a remote off to his right, a grey blocky shape with buttons, hooked up to some sort of patient-controlled analgesia machine.

“You not taken any?”

Martin, as best as he can, shakes his head.

“Why?”

“I just don’t want to, alright?”

Tim doesn’t push. The silence between the two of them is protracted, uncomfortable, but Tim can stand to learn some patience.

Martin’s eyes are watery, clearly trying to push through the pain. Jon sleeps on.

“He won’t tell me,” Martin says. “But it’s bad. I know it’s bad. Right?”

“Yes.”

Martin deserves his honesty. Tim doesn’t know how long Martin suffered on that factory floor until Jon ripped the Circus’ sawdust out with his fury. Long enough for the bandages to coat his arms and legs and back like lacquer, changed multiple times a day to make sure the skin grafts take, and the stitching holds.

Tim should have been there. Like he should have been there for Danny.

“God, Martin,” he says, and he’s surprised to find his throat has clenched tight. “It’s… I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? I went and got myself…” Martin trails off, swallows with difficulty. “I did this, it was all, all me. Fat lot of good it did.”

“You don’t know that…” Tim starts, but Martin looks at him and he seethes without raising his voice.

“What good’s come out of this then? Go on, Tim, tell me. I’m a – I’m a mess, and what the fuck do I have to show for it. What the fuck have any of us gained from this? I just fucked up, and it – I thought I was going to die. And worse, I thought they mightn’t let me, that they might take what they left as scraps a-a-and – ” Martin’s jaw clacks shut as he pushes down his distress.

“You saved Jon.”

“I didn’t though. The bloody – the bloody door monster showed up and did that simply fine without my help!”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know what you changed. God, Martin, this whole, this entire thing is all so, it’s fucked, right, it’s…” Tim’s voice wobbles, cracks. “But you tried to do something. You tried to help. And I’m – I’m so sorry you did it alone.”

Martin doesn’t leap to forgiveness. But he nods and Tim puts his hand on the wrappings up his arm and he doesn’t move away.

“What now?” he asks after a moment.

“I don’t know.”

Martin closes his eyes.

“I’m tired,” he confesses. “I’m just so tired of all… all this.”

“We’ll think of something,” Tim says. Finding that he means it. It’s not a promise, but it’s as good as he’s able to offer these days. “You should take some of that morphine. It’ll… it’ll help.”

“It makes me feel out of it. Like, sluggish. And everything’s far away.”

“That means it’s working, Marto,” Tim says, trying for light-hearted, but Martin’s shaking his head, and the shivering is back in his hands. A wide and trembling glaze to his expression.

“If they come back…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence.

“I’ll stay,” Tim says. Pats Martin’s arm in a way he hopes conveys reassurance.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Martin nods. Tim helps him grasp the grey remote, push down the button. It’s not long before Martin’s drifted off.

Tim sits there for a long while, thinking about the future.

[otonymous]

A Bolt From The Blue (MLQC Shaw - NSFW) - Part IV (End): Courage, My Love

Description: The final chapter.  The Big Bang 😉  Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language & mature themes — reader discretion is advised.  Potential trigger warnings: physically aggressive behaviour, ex-boyfriends, angst, size kink, profanity, vaginal fingering and intercourse Word Count: 4237 words (~21 mins of thrills, real talk, fluff and smut) Author’s Notes: To all the lovelies who have been patiently following this story: you’ve made it! 🥳  Welcome to the final chapter in this Shaw saga, where we aim to go out with a massive bang (pun intended 😆).  Once again, thank you all for every like, reblog, and comment I’ve received on this story.  You are all amazing, and I appreciate your support! 💕

As always, tagging the lovely @op-peccatori​ — I hope you enjoyed this story!  I certainly had lots of fun writing this!  Please note the potential trigger warnings listed above, dear readers, and happy reading! 

Jump to Chapter(s): One | Two | Three

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The quiet is back.

But there is no peace, no relief in the monotony that follows after the man known as Shaw burst into your life like a bolt from the blue, stirring up long forgotten feelings like dead leaves animated by a carefree wind — here one minute, gone the next.

And with each passing day, hope erodes.

Little by little, your heart learns not to race as the clock above the magazine rack approaches 1:30.

It becomes harder to remember the sound purple sneakers made walking through the store.

You stop hoping, wishing, to see a head of lavender hair; that the next person to approach the register would place a cup of Pepsi mixed with Coke on the counter, amber-eyed gaze speaking volumes without uttering a single word.

Days become weeks, and then eventually…

…you stop counting them altogether.

* * *

“You’re looking good.  I see you’re doing well for yourself.”

He reaches for the jade pendant hanging around your neck, eyes flashing with amusement when you hit his hand away with an audible smack.

“What the hell do you want?  Haven’t you already done enough?” You say through grit teeth, steps quickening as you head for the better lit part of the street, trying to outpace the man and silently cursing the fact that returning to the convenience store was no longer an option at this point.

“C’mon baby, don’t be like that.  It took a lot of effort to track you down and I waited a very long time for you to get off work.  It’s cold, dark and lonely out here.  Is that any way to treat your boyfriend?  Or friend, at least?”

“ ‘Ex-boyfriend,’ asshole, and you’re no friend of mine, especially not after the way you took my life’s savings and ran.”

“Baby, it wasn’t like that—”

“Oh yeah?!  Did you try telling that to the loan sharks too before they came and trashed my place?  I had to move, Leto, because it wasn’t safe for me anymore, not with the way they kept harassing me and the neighbours asking about your whereabouts.  They even came to my office.  I lost my fucking job.  So don’t come around here and tell me that I’m doing well for myself.”

Breaking into a sprint, your mind races as you try to think of a way to lose your ex, anger and anxiety prickling every nerve in equal measure.  He had ruined your life, singlehandedly taken away everything you had.  And though you had known him once, desperation has a way of making monsters out of men.

And right now, for all you knew, he was desperate and dangerous.

“Please, I just want to talk.  I don’t need much this time, just a little bit to get me through this rough patch.  I’ll pay you back, I swear, just…just STOP FOR A MOMENT!—”

You shriek to feel Leto wrap his hand about your wrist, but before he could tighten his grip, another arm is thrown around your shoulder, pulling you back until you’re pressed up against a hard, muscular chest, staring at a close up of Snoopy riding a skateboard.

“You got business with my girl?”

That voice.  Dangerous and cocksure, yet comforting like nothing else as the muffled words reverberate through the tiny bones of your ear, a prelude to the soothing ba-bump of his heart, rhythm steady and concrete as the ground upon which you stood.

Shaw.

He’s really here.

“Hehe.  Your girl?”  The derision in Leto’s voice makes you sick to your stomach; you can’t help but hold your breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop as he looks Shaw up and down, zeroing in on his old t-shirt.  “Tsk, tsk.  So, not only do you enjoy wearing second hand clothing, you also have the habit of picking up sloppy seconds?”

BOOM!

Deafening thunder rolls moments after a bolt of lightning rends the night sky in two, throwing a jagged spotlight on the fury written on Shaw’s face when he moves just as fast to grab a fistful of Leto’s collar.  The muscles of his forearm bulge as he holds up the entirety of Leto’s bodyweight in one hand, the sky opening in a sudden downpour as your ex struggles in midair, rain dripping almost comically from dangling feet.

And when Shaw brings Leto’s terrified face up close, the ferocity in those amber eyes sends a chill up your spine.

“This is the last time you’ll ever talk to her, see her, even think about her.  Or else I’ll find you and take my sweet time making you wish you were never born, do you understand me?”

Head bobbing in vigorous nods, drops of water fly off the tips of Leto’s rain-slicked hair.  Seemingly satisfied, Shaw tosses him onto the ground at your feet, voice low yet audible as it cuts through the din of the storm when he says, “Beg for her forgiveness.”

The fear in his expression almost palpable, Leto looks between you and Shaw — cowardice etched onto features you had once found so pleasing a lifetime ago.  He prostrates himself onto the wet pavement, voice cracking in between sobs as he yells over the sound of the rain:

“P-please…please forgive me!  I’m a piece of shit!  I’m nothing, I’m garbage!  I…I deserve to go to Hell for what I did to you!  I-I’m so sorry!  Please forgive me!”

Leto reaches out a shaky hand towards your soaked shoes before he remembers Shaw’s warning, but it is too late.  Black combat boots hit the concrete hard within an inch of Leto’s face as Shaw stoops, yanking back a fistful of hair and pulling until your ex is looking up at you like a pitiful supplicant begging for mercy.

“Satisfied?”  Shaw looks to you as if he were asking about something as mundane as the weather.  You nod, suddenly too tired to even speak.  You wanted to wash your hands of Leto, wanted nothing to do with all that had happened since you finished your shift at the convenience store.  All you could do was watch as Leto scrambled away on all fours the moment Shaw loosened his hold, running until he was nothing more than a speck of darkness merging with the night.

The rain is cold, wetness driving against your body to leech even the final bits of warmth from bone.  Your clothes are drenched, heavy as they cling uncomfortably to skin.  But you are too drained to care, lacking the energy to even notice when the dim light of the streetlamp above is blotted out — Shaw holding his leather jacket over your head in the place of an umbrella.

All you are aware of before your vision goes dark is the anxiety in his voice when he calls your name over and over again, how weightless it felt to be carried in the cradle of his arms.  

How much you missed the scent you thought you had learned to forget.

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“Finally awake, Sleeping Beauty?”

You opened your eyes to gaze into irises of warm amber, the situation similar to one you experienced before except for the fact that this time, you were the one lying in bed, staring at a man who sat on its edge, brows knit with concern beneath soft lavender strands.

“If you slept for any longer, I would’ve had to knock on your neighbour’s door.” Shaw chuckles but the sound is hollow, mirthlessness obvious like the blanched knuckles of his tightly clenched fists.

“What…how did we…” You begin, voice raspy as it dies, a sudden sharp pain in your throat making you wince.

And immediately, Shaw is on his feet, rummaging through cupboards in your kitchen until he finds a glass.  You watch him run the tap, fill it to the brim.  Feel the strength of his arm around your back as he holds you up, touch lingering even as you down the water in gulps to chase the discomfort away.

“You passed out not long after your douchebag of an ex ran off with his tail between his legs.  I found your keys in your purse, so I let myself into your apartment — hope you don’t mind.  Although, to be fair, I was also carrying you at the time, so it’s not really breaking and entering.”

Head feeling like it would explode as the events of the evening come rushing back, you turn towards him…slowly…slowly, afraid Shaw might disappear before your eyes should any movement prove too sudden.

Thank him.  Now.  Before he goes away again.

He is close, so close that you can count those long, beautiful lashes; almost feel the minuscule shifts in the air between you every time he blinks — those pupils encroaching onto gold as they expand and pulling you into their depths as they do.

“Why are you doing this?”

He doesn’t flinch at your question, and you can’t bring yourself to be shocked by the discrepancy between what you meant to say and the words actually spilling from your lips.  And as the grey memory of days spent counting the hours of his absence settles like lead in the pit of your stomach, the only thing you knew was that your heart couldn’t survive latching onto this sliver of hope only to have it ripped away again.

All you wanted…was the truth.

“Because I can’t stand to see you sad anymore.”

There is no smirk to stretch across that handsome face, only pain that hurts your heart to see it.  Resignation heavy in his voice, Shaw takes a deep breath before he continues.

“Turns out I’m weak when it comes to you.  Selfish.  I know I’m no good for you; there’s no future with me.  I can’t give you anything, can’t even promise you tomorrow, but…I just can’t stop thinking about you.  Wondering how you are.  Whether you’re eating well, sleeping well.  If you’re safe…happy.

“Tonight wasn’t supposed to happen.  I just wanted to make sure you got home okay, that some asshole wasn’t going to hassle you at work.  But then your ex showed up and when he tried to get fresh with you, well…I couldn’t let that slide.

“Listen, I don’t know what’s wrong with me but…I’m sorry, if I ever made you sad, if I scared you.  I’m sorry for everything.”

His gaze drops to the rip in his jeans, the drip, drip of the leaky faucet the only sound in the ensuing silence of his confession.  That is, until you say,

“I’m sorry too…that you’re such an idiot.”

His head whips up, brows furrowed and mouth slack as if caught in a rare moment of speechlessness.  The shock makes him seem years younger, lending him an air of innocence that you couldn’t help but smile at.

“In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m a grown woman, capable of making my own decisions.  I’m not so naïve that I don’t know what I would be getting into by being with you.  You say you can’t promise me tomorrow, but tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone.  All we can ask for — hope for — is the here and now.  

“Love takes courage, as does life.  But a life without love…it’s not much of a life, is it?  So I’m willing to be brave if that’s what it’ll take for us to be together.”

As quickly as they came, the words are gone, leaving you cotton-mouthed and faint as your heart pounds to send the blood rushing to your ears.  That could’ve been the only explanation as to why Shaw’s “I knew there was a reason why I loved you” sounded so muffled you had to ask him to repeat himself.

“Too bad, I only say things once.”

And there it is again: the spark in his eyes, smirk on those lips — igniting the fire you only allowed yourself to feel in dreams of his body on yours, skin to skin like kindling to flame.

“Are you that single-minded about everything?”  You ask, the smile on your face mirroring his as it approaches closer…

“Only when it comes to not letting go of the one I care about.”

…closer…

“Tell me one thing.”  Your voice is barely above a whisper.

…and closer still.

Lips now a hair’s breadth apart, the gentle rhythm of his exhalation blows soft upon your cupid’s bow; a shy request.  Your vision is filled with him, wonderfully awash with colour — lavender, amber, the soft pink of his mouth — and you wished you were the very clothes upon his body; saturated in his intensity, dyed in his hues.

His eyes fixate on your tongue when you wet your lips before asking, “That night, when you were hurt so badly you passed out in my store…why did you still insist on coming in?”

Shaw’s breath catches, hitching in his throat.  You know because you can feel it, the way the warmth stops short on your skin.  And when he speaks, the eyes that hold yours tell you this is no lie.

“Because if it was going to be the last night of my life, I didn’t want to go without seeing your face one more time.”

Love is a funny thing.  Formless, senseless, yet the strongest thing that could bind two strangers.  You hadn’t known Shaw for long, could count the days you spent together on one hand.  And still, entirely without reason, he bled into each and every hour, crept into the darkest corners of your mind to fill your weary heart with a desperation that made it very clear that love was far from done with you.

That right or wrong, the only place you wanted to be was here — held in the arms that wrapped around your body: hot, tight, safe…

…Shaw.

His lips are softer than you ever imagined when he brings his face to yours, plush silk gliding corner to corner to cover your mouth in reverent kisses — one for each night he came into your store, watched over you from afar.  

Your stalwart protector.

You tasted it now, the remnants of cinnamon on his tongue from the gum he was so fond of chewing, intensified by the memory of all the times you wondered about its flavour: pink bubbles popping in his mouth as he coolly dealt with the robber, the night you emptied his pockets as your neighbour stitched him up on your bed.

Shaw tasted sweet.  Far sweeter than you ever imagined.

And when his tongue slides against yours — slow and sure as it explores your mouth with increasing fervour before drawing back just as you clenched around emptiness, yearning for more, the beast within you refuses to abide.

You like the shock that passes over his face when you move, sudden and forceful, to push him onto the mattress beneath you; the artless way Shaw sinks teeth into his bottom lip in response.  You like how he watches as you straddle his hips — gaze earnest and body honest, hardening as you grind undulating circles upon his groin.

But, perhaps most of all, you liked the spark of something wild in those amber eyes, an unpredictability warning that if you weren’t careful, you’d be the one to find yourself pinned to the bed.

Because wasn’t that ultimately the push-and-pull that characterized so much between you and him?  Maddening at times, but always, always binding you to Shaw like some red string of fate.

So you nod when he whispers “May I?”, unable to suppress a moan to finally feel his hands on you: tracing along your jaw, cradling your face…resting the pad of his finger on your lip before pushing past to stroke your tongue.

Every sound he makes pleases; the soft hiss preceding the bob of his Adam’s apple to feel your lips pucker around his finger to suck, pink tongue enticing as it swirls along the length of that digit, drawing it deeper into the hot wetness of your mouth.

You never saw yourself as seductive before, but Shaw made you feel sexy.  Perhaps the impulse stemmed from some primitive desire, an instinctive call to please the man you felt so profoundly for that shame was the farthest thing from your mind when you pulled his hand from your lips to guide it to your breast, only partially aware of how wet you were becoming from his gaze alone — half-lidded and heavy with lust.

The heat of his touch permeates your blouse, white and transparent still in patches from the rain.  You watch his hands as they play: cupping your breasts in a gentle squeeze, thumbs and forefingers catching your nipples to pinch and roll until they stood stiff against the drape of your clothing, the flush of your flesh bold through fabric.

“You’re so beautiful that there are times I think you can’t possibly be real.”

His voice is low, husky.  You let it wash over you, almost frightened by how stupidly happy you become, willing the magic to linger even as his words dissipate amongst the sounds of the night: neon buzzing and the faraway screams of sirens in the distance.

A world apart.

Your hands find the broad expanse of his chest, tracing along muscle before circling the nipples that stood erect against his damp t-shirt.  Each twitch is endearing, every erratic breath he draws to feel your touch making you fall harder.  And when he tries to focus on unbuttoning your blouse while fighting the impulse to tear it clean off your body, the stirring between your legs grows in intensity until he finally pulls the silken panels aside, a quiet gasp escaping his lips to see his necklace nestled between your breasts.

“It really does belong on you.”  

The admiration in his tone is laced with a hint of possessiveness that makes you throb.  Shaw pushes himself to sitting, gathering you onto his lap in one smooth motion as he buries his face in your chest, inhaling deep.  You gasp to feel gentle teeth sink into the flesh of your breasts, Shaw following the chain of precious metal with his lips until it leads to the pendant.  And when his tongue slips out to draw the piece of jade into his mouth, he brings your nipple along with it.

“Oh!…”

The sensation is unlike any you’ve known before, the soft wetness of his pliant tongue a searing contrast with the cool, smooth stone rubbing against the sensitive tip of your breast in equal measure.  You feel his smile on your skin when you fist your hands into lavender hair, spine curving as your legs begin to tremble.

And he had yet to touch you below the waist.

“Your body responds so well to me.  I knew you were a good girl.”  He looks up at you, teasing shamelessly even as he continues to lavish attention on your breasts.

“Just your girl, if you’ll have me,” you say without second thought, long past the point of caring to keep your cards close to your chest.

Something breaks in that expression, the final walls crumbling like dust when Shaw blinks once…twice, revealing eyes that shine with emotion when he replies, “For the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.”

* * *

“Hmm!—”

Your moan is muffled, swallowed by Shaw’s greedy lips like he does with every sound of ecstasy that leaks like you do around his cock, buried impossibly deep in your body as it rocks back and forth, back and forth on his muscular thighs…

…doing your best to adjust to his ample size.

He had barely suppressed a chuckle when you first slipped your hand into his jeans, a subtle mix of pride and amusement on his face to see your eyes widen when you couldn’t quite wrap palm and fingers around the entirety of his girth.

And foreplay had only just begun.

“Still doing okay?” Shaw asks, touch tender as he brushes loose strands of hair from your eyes, lips smoothing along the apple of your cheek to feel its pink heat.  “We can go as slow as you want, there’s no rush.  If it’s too much, we can stop—”

“No!  No…I’m okay.  More than okay, I’m great.  Please…please don’t stop…don’t stop…”

Struggling to string words together, your breath comes in disjointed pants as Shaw begin to thrust up — the look on his face effortlessly sensual when he bites his lip to feel you spasm around him, tight wetness yielding in increments to accommodate his body as it broke new ground.

For you had never taken a man of that size, the litheness of Shaw’s muscular body belying the impressive package he’d been hiding in those jeans.  Your jaw ached just to look upon the length of that thick cock, mouth watering as a fresh wave of arousal made you press your thighs tighter together.  The movement didn’t go unnoticed.  Shaw had drawn you to him then — deft fingers dipping low to trace the outline of your swollen folds through moist panties, lavender head bending to kiss its lacy trim.

He took his time preparing you, licking his fingers before he eased them into your pussy — first one, then two…curling deep until the slippery sounds of arousal told him the time was ripe to introduce the third, leaving you blooming for him even as he whispered, “Think you’re ready for me to make you my girl for real?”

It borders on overwhelming, this sensation of fullness — between your legs, within your heart.  And as skin stretched to capacity to accommodate the sweet friction of his slide, you wished there was a way for the euphoria of this connection to last forever:

To the one you could never forget, no matter how hard you tried.

To this man you loved like no other.

“Shaw.”

His name is faint on your breath when he falls back onto the bed, taking you with him.  And as you found yourself straddling his hips once more, the altered angles of your bodies gave him the leverage to make you gasp when he begins to thrust in earnest.  The eroticism of his face, lost in lust, drives all thoughts from your mind as you drop a hand to your clit, fingers drawing tight circles before his hungry eyes.

The violence of your climax takes you by surprise, having no time to consider neighbours and thin walls as the lewdest sounds escape your lips at high volume.  Intense convulsions wracking your body in waves, you clench in time around your lover.  The sensation proves too much to bear, drawing out Shaw’s own release as he pulls out to spill onto the folds of your pussy — swollen and pink and trembling still beneath the coat of his pearlescent seed.

* * *

“I love you.”  

Morning light trickles across your walls like the slow crawl of spidery legs.  Shaw’s words hang in the air between you, a final, sacred moment shared between lovers before the rest of the world wakes.

You loved the hoarseness in his voice; a testament to the hours of noisy lovemaking you had shared in lieu of sleep.

You loved the weight of his hand, stroking softly at the crown of your head.

You loved the rhythm of his heart, echoing just below your ear to confirm his existence.

“I love you too.”

You look up into those amber eyes, trying to discern whether those four little words were sufficient in conveying that fact that you adored every fibre of the man before you.

The smile that graces his face in return is tender, honest…more brilliant than the day breaking in the East.

Your hands find his body, bare beneath the sheets.  And as a curious finger traces along the ridge of the scar that runs in a broad stroke across his sculpted abdomen, your gaze falls on his t-shirt, draped over the back of a chair.

“You should probably throw that Snoopy shirt away, especially after what happened last night.”

Shaw follows your line of sight, chest rising and falling in a deep sigh.  “Shitty as its previous owner was, I could never bring myself to hate something that reminds me of you.  Aside from saving my ass, this was the first gift you ever gave me.  And I never throw away gifts from my girl.”

His girl.

The mystery of life is that filled with unknowns though it is, we continue to live, brave in the face of the uncertainty that comes with every passing day.  You had no idea what fate had in store for you or Shaw, had no way of knowing if your relationship existed on borrowed time.  

The only thing you were certain of was that your feelings for each other were real, that try as you might, neither of you were very good at forgetting the other.  That in this moment, here and now, the only thing that mattered was this love that hit you…

…like a bolt from the blue.

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Thanks so much for reading!  I hope you all enjoyed this Shaw saga! 💖 

Check out more of my work here! 📚 (Please do not repost/copy/alter my work.  Reblogs, on the other hand, are perfectly fine and much appreciated! 💖👍🏼)

Jump to Chapter(s): One | Two | Three

[beigehearts]

The Price of Self Respect

Please refer to my mast list for the other chapters! Part IV

PART III CW: alcohol consumption, body trauma, sex

18+ content

1,508 words

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Ugh it hurts so badly. He's trying his best to be gentle but with each tiny push, pain courses through your whole body.

He's tending to your broken knee which Nobunaga had completely snapped the opposite way. Chrollo tends to the wound, with his book in his hand and he rubs your knee. Your knee glows yellow and you don't question it since you've learned he does not have mal intent.

"This won't heal you completely but it will speed up the healing process." He pulls his hand away and closes his book, "I'm sorry, I don't have many healing nen abilities in my book." Before you can respond, he leans down and kisses your knee, looking up at you with a mischievous smile.

You smack the back of his head and groan, "Ugh you're such a dog." Stated as if it was a complaint, but covering somewhat of a happy feeling building up in your chest. Happy feeling. Huh.

Chrollo finishes wrapping up your knee with some normal cloth, since there was no way to makeshift you a cast out here. And you really don't want a splint, seems painful.

"I won't place any nen on this cloth- I don't want it to interfere with the growth of healing." His eyes meet yours again, and smile blossoms on his face. "Looks like I'll just have to keep taking care of you."

Unconsciously, your eyes seem to roll all the way to the back of your head. "If someone's co thief and murderer didn't break it maybe you wouldn't have to."

He stands, ignoring your comment, the look on his face making him seem like a child. "Now that wasn't so bad. Once you heal up we'll head out and catch up with the others. We're going to pick up a stray member." His own comments sours his face and he groans.

"Sounds like a handful to me."

"More like a truck full."

Chrollo gives you some space before bed time, knowing you're still uncomfortable with the aspect of sleeping besides him.

It's weird- how could you have gone from laying on a thing mattress on a rock floor with your kidnapper in front of you; to laying in bed and having conversations with a friend late into the night? If it weren't for him kidnapping you with the intent of stealing your nen ability, you may have pined after him.

Lately he's been dropping small signs of affection, trying to ease you into it. You could be reading a book and he'll walk over and give you a kiss on the forehead. Or after carrying you to the living room, he'll pull you closer to him and allow you to lay your head on his lap or chest. It's quite troubling, your brain is screeching while your heart is pounding. You don't have much time left here, and the possibility of Chrollo not giving you anymore affection once you catch up with the group seems to pull at your heart strings.

Speak of the devil, the man enters with a square glass bottle of whiskey and in his other hand, two whiskey glasses. "We haven't had a drink in a few days- and they don't have anymore wine but I took a wild guess that you don't mind a stronger poison."

A smile forces itself on your face, "Good guess."

It doesn't take long for the whiskey with a high alcohol content to make it into the both of your systems. Laughing loudly and enjoying each other's presence. Laying in the bed, him sitting cross legged while you're in the usual sitting position of an injured woman.

"Before I even went to attack, he squealed like a pig- not a small one but those big fat farm pigs." He chuckles at your story and looks up to the ceiling.

"I've never had an experience like that, it's usually a quick affair. It makes it easier."

"Different strokes for different folks I guess." You say with a shrug and unbothered expression. "Maybe it's fucked up but I enjoy a little bit of commotion, it makes it mo-"

Cut off from your explanation, with lips meeting yours. You're wide eyed, he's leaned over to give you a big kiss. On the lips this time.

He pulls away momentarily to examine your expression- seeing somewhat of an agreeance, he wastes no time in pressing his lips against yours once more. Tongue exploring your mouth, one hand on your cheek with the other on your hip. You’re somewhat shaken when he flips over, pulling you on top of his body. The pain in your leg seems to be minimal when you straddle him. 

He props himself up on one elbow and grabs the back of your head, pulling your lips toward him. His hand trails down to the small of your back, pressing you flush against his form. 

A small noise of surprise escapes your throat when you feel him pressing up into you, over and over. You don’t try to stop it, you’ve lost your inhibitions thanks to the whiskey. His tongue tastes like alcohol and mint, but your mind is no longer concerned with his mouth. His hand grabs your waist with an unusually strong grip, a grip that is surely to leave bruises. Holding you down as he grinds against your sensitive area. 

Hands are traveling up your body, grabbing the hem of your shirt and pulling it above your head. You raise your arms so he can pull it off. You lean down against him, your hands feeling his abs, such a satisfying feeling. His hands squeeze your breasts gently, treating them like an unknown pleasure. While massaging one breast, the other pinches your nipple between his fingers, earning a breathy moan from you. 

He flips you over to be under him, and begins pulling your sweatpants down and you help him by shimmying out of them. Your hands grab onto his hair, pulling lightly so as not to hurt him. As if your strength even compares to his. His hands grab your wrists, and he uses one hand to pin them both above your head. “Y/n, I love you. I have loved you for a long time.” His words don’t register in your mind- sounding more like unintelligible sounds than words of affirmation. 

The kisses grow in passion before they’re sloppy and desperate as if you both need this. His free hand travels down from your neck, past your breast, down your abdomen, until it reaches the waistband of your panties. You find yourself squirming at the intimate touch, and even more so when his fingers slip under the cloth. He rubs your clit with his thumb, making circles until you feel the warmth building up in your lower belly. A finger rubs itself in your slick juices before pushing inside of you, curling and pressing against your walls. You want more, you need more of Chrollo. He continues kissing you, muffling your moans when he adds another finger and begins scissoring his fingers inside of you. 

Chrollo wants to take his time, trust that, but he’s desperate. His fingers leave your warmth and he brings them up to his lips, licking your juices off of the,. The sight causes a blush to cover your face, a blush covering his as well. His eyes are filled with lust and something else. You could only describe it as love. 

He ruffles around with his pants before he pulls your panties to the side, and you feel something much better than fingers prodding at your entrance. He lets go of your wrists, and slowly pushes his length inside of you. You wince, being stretched out so much so quickly, but you grit your teeth and bare it. You dig your nails into his back and he moans some. He sits with his length all the way inside you for a moment before he begins moving. The pain has disappeared and has been replaced with immense pleasure.

He thrusts in and out of you, slowly at first, but it quickly becomes fast and harder. You scratch your hands down his back, moaning loudly, unable to keep any of your illicit sounds inside. The sound of you wet sex being fucked hard is enough to turn you on. 

That not in your stomach becomes tighter before it's unbearable, “Chrollo I-” He grabs you by your throat and applies just enough pressure. You let out strangled moans as your walls tighten around him and you can’t hold it anymore. You’re left gasping when he fucks you through your orgasm. With a final, deep thrust, he keeps himself deep inside of you and releases. Your walls feel warm, and when he pulls out the both of your cum flows out of you. He lets go of your throat and you gasp in some air. 

He lays down next to you, and takes you into his arms too tightly for you to ever escape. “We can clean up in the morning darling.”

[markleesthighs]

ive been watching er and uhm 😳 could you write me a mark smut where i’m a new resident and he’s been doing residency for about 3 years and he’s tryna help me get the hang of the hospital and stuff but i notice he’s stressed about patients and stuff so we bang in an exam room or sumn 😳😳

-this is really mf specific but ok, you do you.

[10:30 AM] You were worried about going into residency the moment you graduate from medical school. Sure, you knew everything and aced all your tests but you fell short on your labs. You generally had shaky hands and your nerves got the best of you most of the time. You found a residency nearby your apartment where you would be working. You nailed your interview and had all the qualifications they needed. But you were still nervous, in medical school you were generally quiet and kept to yourself, a loner as one might say.

You shyly walked in to talk to the receptionist who greeted you and directed you to your supervisor or experienced personnel who would be guiding and watching over you. His name was Mark Lee and he had been doing residency for the past 3 years, he was also known for taking care of the President and his wife for medical check ups. He had the brains, brawn, and beauty, it was no shock you got jealous looks from other nurses and doctors when they heard you would be working under him. He greeted you and shook your hand.

“Ah y/n, it’s so lovely to meet you, I’m Mark and I’ll be guiding and watching over you while you are here.”

“It’s nice t-to meet y-you too.”

“Nervous? Don’t worry, you’ll just be assisting and watching me today, no independent work for you.”

You sighed in relief you weren’t prepared to give an emergency surgery on your first day so you were thankful for not jumping straight into something with no guidance.

You followed Mark around the whole day grabbing him medical files or any equipment he needed. It wasn’t as hard as the work he was doing. He had to pump an old mans stomach because he got wasted on soju. Luckily, he saved him but you couldn’t step foot into that room since you were only a first year resident. Finally the day was over for the both of you and other residents would take over other shifts so you two could sleep. You walked into Mark’s office to find him visibly stressed and you felt pretty bad about it.

“Hey, Mark are you alright?”

“Yeah it just by the end of the work day I get really stressed out about the next shift and stuff. It’s hard to work in residency when you never know what’s going to happens next.”

You never thought about it that way but you felt sympathy for him.

“Is there anyway I can help or relieve your stress?”

“There is one thing. But I don’t know if you’d be up for it.”

“Please! I’ll do anything!”

“Anything?”

Mark walked closer to you almost towering over you, he leaned down to whisper into your ear, “Then have would you have sex with me?” You were flustered with your face red at a tomato as he dragged you to an exam room and pushed you against the wall.”

“W-wait!”

“What is it darling?”

“I-I haven’t said my answer yet.” He started to caress your body making your core throb and start to get wet.

“I think I already know the answer, baby.”

“P-please s-stop teasing.”

With that Mark started to kiss and bite your neck and you breahed soft moans into his ear and tugging his hair. Mark removed his lab coat and shirt revealing his chest (he was ripped T-T) You visibly blushed as he brought you over to the hospital bed and pushed you down so he was on top of you.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want to do, so if you want to stop tell me now.”

“N-no please continue”

Mark started to kiss you desperately with his slightly chapped soft lips. He started to undress you pulling apart your shirt and exposing your chest. He kissed all over it making your mind go crazy. You could feel his hard cock through his pants and you instinctively started to remove the belt from his pants. You were anticipating what was hiding under there and you were not surprised. He was big and you thought he was not going to fit into your core. You blush looking away and Mark leaned down to tilt your head to look at him.

“Oh baby please don’t be shy, I’ll go slow, let me know if it’s too much ok?”

He said while kissing your cheek and neck as he slowly slid into your core (with a condom on please be safe and use protection kiddos). You were holding in your moans biting on your lip trying not to scream from how big he was. Mark could visibly see your face scrunching in pain.

“Are you ok?”

“Y-yeah, please, p-please start moving ahh~”

Mark started to thrust slowly into your core as you moaned and digging your nails into his bare back.

“Fuck, baby you’re so tight”

That only turned you on more as you kept moaning his name and Mark gradually picked up the pace.

“Mark! I’m about to- ahh~ I’m about to cum!”

“Me too baby, let’s- let’s cum together.”

After about three more pumps Mark came and you quickly came after. Mark kissed all over your neck before he pulled out of you. You whined feeling empty as Mark took off the condom and threw it in the trash. He cleaned you up as you both got dressed back into your clothes. Mark could visibly see your legs were a little shaky so he grabbed your arm helping to give you support.

“Just hold on to me baby, I got you.”

You instinctively leaned into Mark’s side as you nuzzled into his arm.

“It’s late, you can stay over at my place tonight, baby, I don’t want you walking home alone.”

“T-thanks, h-hey um...are we like dating now?”

“Do you think I just fuck someone I don’t like? Do you want us to be dating?”

“M-maybe?” He gave you an offended look.

“Y-yes we can date, I guess...”

“Alright baby, whatever you want, just remember to keep it professional at work tomorrow.”

[scribbling-stiks]

Spring - IV - Followed

Russia wakes up to the sound of engines and smells people and diesel in the air. His heart lodges itself into his throat and he springs up. Shooting pain enters his paws and his legs ache, but he refuses to stop.

'Shit! SHIT! I have to move. I have to move!'

He snatches up the closest person to him. He dully notes that the magic around them seems to flicker.

'If it's flickering, why aren't they any different?'

Russia shakes his head and the noises get closer.

'Fuck! I don't have enough time to run far enough away.'

Russia growls at himself, clawing at his ears and face.

'Why did I have to fall asleep?!'

The sound of yelling snaps him out of his reverie and he scrambles.

'I have to hide. I have to hide them.'

Russia sprints up the largest tree in his eyesight, laying the statue out onto some of the branches, his thoughts reeling. He scans the branches and finds that there is a place closer to the top with an almost flat platform grown into the tree. He grabs his passenger and bounds up the few extra meters.

He places them to the wood, careful to make sure that they're stable in their placement.

'Are they going to- No, they have to wake up. They have to be okay.'

Russia pushes his body faster. His heart pounds, his mind spins, and his stomach clenches. His paws leave behind a bloody mess, but he finds that the dew covers it enough. The bark of the tree pulls at his claws and digs into the cuts on his feet.

He growls at himself when his legs start going limp against the bark, almost causing him to go spilling to the unforgiving ground. He shakes.

'I still have more to move, I can't stop. I can't leave anyone behind.'

He climbs up and drops off his cargo, trying desperately to fight against the clock as he smells the people getting closer and closer.

He can almost see them when he drops to the ground and grabs Brazil, the last of the group on the ground. He claws at the branches.

His paws suddenly cramp only a short way up, and he falls back.

'This isn't high enough to turn around.'

Russia tenses in preparation for his landing.

He spills onto his back, trying to protect Brazil as best as he can. His back pulses as he turns to get up. His whole body demands he stop, but panic forces him into the tree. He scrambles up, his legs bending painfully to catch his stumbling.

He just manages to make it into the platformed area when he hears the loud talking and radio chatter.

"Boss, we're here. We aren't seeing anything in sector 5R," someone says into what Russia can only assume is a radio.

"You should b_. That __ __er_ the magic is track___" the response comes through radio static.

'Tracking magic?!'

Russia turns and spots America propped up against the trunk.

'Were they tracking him?'

Russia snarls.

'Those bastards.'

Russia shifts to make himself more comfortable and flinches at the pain that radiates from every inch of his body. The wood and pine needles are soaking wet, but Russia finds that it's better than being down there.

Then, he makes eye contact with one of the soldiers. His heart stops.

'I can't fight right now. I can't.'

Russia growls loudly, bearing his teeth. The other soldiers whip their heads up to him and stare, and the talking goes silent.

Then, they start scanning the surrounding trees.

Russia hisses as loudly as he can, standing. He ignores the pulling and burning in his limbs.

'I won't have to fight if I can scare them off.'

His heart races and fear takes hold of his mind.

'Please be scared.'

He stalks on the thicker tree branches.

'Please don't fall. I can't fall. Please don't shoot. Please don't come any closer.'

Russia yowls loudly, and the group jolts. He leans forward on his twisted joints and pain burns through his mind. Russia's fur puffs up to make him look twice his size and he hisses again, his claws digging into the tree bark.

'Please just leave. Please.'

"Boss," one of the soldiers says slowly, "I think... I think we've been chasing a monster."

The soldiers begin to back up, and Russia creeps closer to make sure they retreat.

"What kind? W have the signature."

"One big enough to rip the POV's apart and eat all of us," Another says.

"Well, if it wanted to, it would have already."

Russia's heart drops.

'I don't want to fight, I don't have the energy to. I can't win.'

The soldiers look back at him and step forward slowly.

'But this is my chance to get them away from us.'

Russia hops down and ignores the shooting pains the landing causes. He narrows his eyes and growls.

The soldiers jump back, looking horrified.

"Is that thing covered in blood?!"

"SHH!"

Russia hisses again, his ears pinned back and his teeth bared. He snaps at the people that were just out of reach.

"Retreat slowly," one of them announces, "if we leave it alone, we'll be okay."

"This lead is to an aggressive monster," another relays into the radio.

'Please believe it. Please.'

Russia hisses louder and grabs one of the soldiers by the arm. He swings it around before dropping it. He yowls and takes a quick step toward them. They scrambled back into their cars, and the injured one was helped up.

"You are no longer to follow that magic sig______. There are oth___ closer to base that _ay be more promis___."

Russia yowls and jumps forward into the headlights of one of the vehicles, causing all of them to speed away. Russia watches them go before collapsing to the ground, heaving. He slowly forces himself back onto his feet and he stumbles to the base of the tree. He stares up to the platform.

The height is intimidating and sickening to look at.

'I can't leave them alone up there.'

Russia struggles up and manages to get to the ledge onto the platform when his legs start to give out.

'No nono!'

Russia tries desperately to pull himself up, only to lose his grip and he barely manages to land on his feet. He stares back up at the tree and his stomach clenches.

'I don't have the energy to get back up there.'

Russia swallows, his ears flat to his head and his tail between his legs. He meows sadly. He curls around the trunk, laying his head down on the wet grass for a moment before forcing himself back upright.

'I have to try to keep them warm.'

Russia takes a few steps back before jumping up to hold. He almost misses. He scrambles onto it and lays on it, gasping through the pain.

'Almost there.'

Russia stands again and reaches out. He manages to just brush against the ledge of the platform. Russia takes a deep breath and jumps.

'Please! Please.'

He scrambles up and collapses into a heap on the edge. He watches the others, their frozen faces burn into his memory.

'Just think of them as statues. Just like before,' Russia tells himself, 'it's easier that way.'

'Then I don't have to imagine that they're just dead. Because they can't be. It's just magic, it has to be. They can't be gone.'

Russia lays his head down, his nose scrunched and his thoughts weigh down on him.

'What if they are dead? What if only one of them wakes up? What then? Did I not do enough to keep them safe and warm? Having I been hurting the others to carry around dead bodies?'

Russia snarls at his thoughts.

'Even dead, people deserve the respect of having their bodies retrieved.'

The bumps and bruises he imagines on them due to his rough handling cause his mind to get heavier. The cold they must have suffered while he was trying to move them sinks back into Russia's thoughts.

'Could I have been more careful? Would that have helped?'

Russia growls. He nuzzles Texas, and the static feeling returns.

'I have magic. Could I...?'

'I don't want to risk making it worse!'

Russia stares at the bodies, 'statues',  in front of him.

'But waiting hasn't made difference. What if waiting is killing them?'

Russia wishes that he could cry or beg or do something to call out for help. But he knows that the only people who would answer were the people trying to hurt him and his family.

'What would Dixie say? What would my father think?'

Russia stares at the stiff bodies of South Carolina and Alabama.

'I failed.'

Russia shuts his eyes in grief and listens for anything around. He feels his hunger fade as his emotions pull his heart to pieces.

'I have to try harder. I have to make sure everything turns out okay. I have to.'

Russia's eyes slide shut, and he doesn't have the energy to reopen them.

'I'm so tired.'

'I'm sorry.'

~

Next

Previous

Table of Contents

[vixenpen]

Neighbors

(Hawks x Miku x Bakugo)

Chap.6 Daddy💦💦💦

The warmth between her legs was familiar. A dull thrum of pleasure spread from her core through out her entire body.

Miku’s hips undulated, her body desperate for more.

Scenes and faces blurred before her eyes, painting a confusing tapestry of shapes and colors.

Brown hair. Blonde hair. Soft cheeks. Rough hands.

Golden eyes that smoldered and teased.

“You like that, Angel?” He smirked up at her.

“Yessss...” she sighed.

She held his head in place, back arching as his tongue danced around her clit. His fingers flexed, sending a sharp, electrifying pleasure zipping through Miku’s body.

“My Dove.”

Dove?

“You taste so good.”

That voice...

Lips tasted her dark skin from her thighs to her toned stomach to her big breasts until they reached her lips.

She laced her fingers through his soft, blonde hair and kissed back with just as much fervency as he was giving her.

Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she mumbled: “Katsu...”

“Morning, Dove.” He grinned back at her.

“H-how did...what are you doing here?” She sat up, causing the sheets to slip down her bare body.

“I felt bad for missing out on dinner last night so I wanted to surprise you this morning.”

“You...” she blinked again in surprise, “baby, that’s so sweet.”

“So are you,” He grinned. “I was supposed to making breakfast in bed, but uhh, I got a little hungry myself.” He smirked, licking his lips.

Miku snorted. Bakugo kissed her once more before hoisting himself off of her.

“Chill here, I’ll get Your breakfast.”

As her boyfriend ambled through the kitchen, Miku’s mind wandered over the very lucid dream she had just woken up from. She barely knew this man. He had hardly touched her, and yet, that touch felt as if it had burned itself into Miku’s very memory.

As Bakugo re-emerged with a bowl of homemade oatmeal and fresh fruit He quizzed: “Did Konan come over last night or something?”

“Huh?”

“The glasses and plates. I noticed there were two sets.”

Miku slowly dig into her breakfast as she replied.

“No, ah, Hawks came over for dinner.”

Bakugo’s handsome face clouded with anger, immediately.

“He what?” He asked in a voice much calmer than his expression.

Oh fuck...

“Look, I told him I would make him dinner sometime as a thank you for helping me move in.”

“I told you about dealing with that guy, Miku.”

“Don’t start.” She rolled her eyes. “It was a simple dinner.”

“A simple dinner that required you two to drink an entire bottle of wine?” He snapped back, crossing his arms. Miku’s gaze hardened, defensively.

“What are you trying to imply?”

“What the hell should I be trying to imply?“

“Katsuki,” Miku sighed, “it’s too early in the morning to do this shit, can we just eat our food? Please.”

“Nah, fuck that. I’m only gonna say this once, Miku, I don’t want that dude in here if I’m not here.”

“Excuse the fuck outta you,” Miku’s neck rolled with her growing anger. “I’ll have whoever the fuck I want over at my house.”

“Not with my name on the lease, you won’t.”

“Oh ho, so you’re gonna dangle the lease in my face now,” Miku sat her tray to the side. “You think Cuz you paid for a little condo, you’re what? My daddy now or somethin’? Baby boy don’t you ever forget that I don’t need a nigga for an apartment, a car, a boat or shit else. Ive never known Sessui Shirogane a day in my life, so unless you’re him, don’t talk to me like you’re my daddy.” Tossing off the sheets, she hopped out the bed in a huff.

“Where The fuck do you think you’re goin’?” Bakugo demanded, gaping at her in anger.

“To get ready for work.”

“Miku, I’m not done talking to you.”

“Well, I’m done talkin to you, so you and your breakfast and get the fuck out.”

Before she couldn’t even get two steps away from her bed, Bakugo gripped her wrist, sending her hurtling back first against the soft pillows.

He was on top of her in an instant, his red eyes flashing with anger and lust. She could feel his erection rubbing against her still sensitive clit.

Her chest heaved. The fire was back and more intense than before.

Pinning both her wrists above her head, Bakugo freed his throbbing erection from his jogging pants.

“What you not gone do this morning, Dove, is talk shit to me in my house. Understand?”

“Fuck you.” She shot back.

A growl clawed it’s way from his throat and in one movement, he plunged into her.

“Ahh, fuck!” Miku exclaimed

Bakugo grabbed her throat. His hips bucked against her own, thick dick pummeling her pulsing wet walls until the only sound were the gushy smacking sounds of him inside her.

“Ka-Katsu, Katsu-ki,” Miku choked out.

The deep pressure inside her had her clawing at his back.

“Yeah,” he growled into her ear. “This shuts you the fuck up doesn’t it? I know how to shut your ass up.”

“Oh...god..”

It hurt so good, her own hips were snapping up to meet his—drool trickling from the side of her gaping mouth.

“That nasty little mouth of yours is only good for suckin this dick, you understand, Swan? Huh?”

He was met with garbled groans and broken sentences.

“Say it, Miku,” he bit her ear before hoisting her thick, dark thighs above her head.

He groaned low in his throat at the deeper angle. Her plush pussy was practically swallowing his dick.

“Wet as a mutha fucka,” He chuckled. “You’re mine, Angel, understand? I own this pussy. Now whose your daddy?”

Mustering what energy she could, she hacked up all the moisture she could manage and spat on his cheek.

SMACK!

Her cheek smarted on the impact.

“Oh you wanna play like that, huh bitch?” A feral grin crossed his face. “Alright then.”

He pulled out of her. Before Miku could whine in protest, she felt him sink slowly into her ass.

“OHH GOD!”

He chuckled through his own groans. Eschewing the usually steady pace they usually started with in anal, he hammered into her.

“Oh gaah, fuck, fuck, fuck! Yesss! Shit!”

His face hovered in her vision completely as he glowered at her. He grabbed her jaw roughly.

“Now, who the fuck is your daddy?” He ground out.

Tears stung the corner of her eyes.

“You,” she croaked.

“What was that sweetness?” He rocked his hips slower, punishing her with the slowed pace

“You,” Miku sobbed out, needing her release too desperately to fight anymore. “You daddy. You! Fucking you are.”

“You’re god damn right.” He smirked.

And then the orgasm crashed over both of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once again, Keigo was faced with a familiar unfriendly face. He stepped back to allow the younger hero to get off the elevator.

“We gotta stop meeting like this.” Keigo quipped.

“Go back to Fukuoka and we will.” Bakugo shot back, stepping up in the man’s face with his arms crossed.

The blonde cocked his head, wearing his signature nonchalanct smirk.

“Ya know man, I’m starting to think you have a problem with me.”

“Cut the crap, Hawks,” Bakugo spat, “Stay the hell away from Miku.”

“Gonna be pretty hard to stay away from her when she’s right on top of me.” The older man replied, coolly.

His slick choice of words made Bakugo’s heart hammer in his chest angrily. He snatched the winged hero up by the collar.

“The fuck Did you just say?!”

Before Keigo could respond, the room next door creaked open. Out popped the head of little Mrs. Abe, an aging Enka singer. She was wearing a worried expression on her weathered face

“H-Hawks? Is everything ok?” She asked, eying Bakugo’s hostile stance.

“Everything’s fine, Mrs. Abe!” Keigo grinned back at her. “Just a little chit chat with an old friend.”

Mrs. Abe looked less than convinced and more than a little worried, but she nodded. “Ok then,” and ducked back inside.

Using the distraction to his advantage, Keigo shoved out of the irate man’s grip. He kept his expression neutral, but couldn’t help the hard edge in his voice.

“Look man, I don’t what your problem is, but there’s nothing going on between Miku and I.”

“Of course there isn’t, ‘cuz you haven’t made your move yet, but I know you Hawks. You’re not as slick as you think you are. I see the way you look at her-“

“And how is that?” He chuckled, stepping closer to the blonde. “Is it the same way you look at me?”

Confusion flitted across Bakugo’s face.

“What?”

“You know what I mean. Sometimes you don’t know if you wanna tell me to go fuck myself or if you wanna do it for me. That hate boner you’ve got going for me must be very confusing for you. Unfortunately for you, kid, I don’t bend over for nobody. Especially hot headed man children with anger issues. If you’re that worried about somebody stealing Miku away from you, maybe you should ask yourself where you went wrong to be this insecure in your relationship instead of trying to step to someone you can’t touch on or off the field.” He stepped around the fuming younger man to press the first floor button. “Mind The business that pays you kid, not mine.”

With that final jab, the doors slid shut in Bakugo’s gawking face.

[honeypirate]

In the end part two

Izuku Midoriya pro hero x fem pro hero reader

Okay so I wanted to write a part two because I kept thinking about it hahaha it’s shit but I wanted a happier ending. For Midoriya.

Comfort from waking up after being in a coma.

Part one here

Your eyes pop open and look up at a white tiled ceiling, you try to talk but you can’t get any words out, you start to panic, to hyperventilate as your mouth and throat recognize the presence of a tube, your hands fly to your mouth as the beeping from the machines add to your panic.

A pair of hands grab yours and hold them down gently “y/n y/n look at me please look at me” you look up and focus on a very familiar pair of emerald eyes, you squeeze his hands and he sees just how panicked you are in your eyes “y/n just try and relax Everything is okay just don’t look away from me keep your eyes on me” you nod quick and squeeze his hands again as nurses and doctors run into the room, nurses silence the beeping and a doctor comes up to you “just relax miss l/n it’s okay I just need to remove this tube” you don’t look away from Izuku as the doctor removes the tape and then slowly and gently pulls the tube from your throat. Once it’s free a nurse wipes away the spit and you take the tissues from her and cough into them, you begin to cry from how scared you were in that moment, from the overwhelming panic you felt.

Izuku wipes your tears as the doctor asks you questions. “I’m deeply sorry for you have to experience that. We didn’t expect you to wake up on your own. You’ve been in a coma for three weeks” your eyes flash back to Izuku and you can see how ragged he looks, he looks like he hasn’t slept that entire time, his hair is a mess and he’s wearing a sweatshirt that you stole from him a long time ago. He must have got it from your apartment. You wish you could hug him. He smiles at you with relief in his eyes, he knew exactly what you’re thinking, desperate to hug you as well.

After the doctors do a few quick tests they remove your IV and then leave you alone with Izuku. You watch as he stands from his chair he was at to stay out of the way and crosses the room to you, you smile gently and feel tears start to fall again. “Oh no don’t cry” he cups your cheeks and brushes away the tears “sweet girl” he says “I was so worried but I never lost hope. I knew you’d come back to me” you reach up and grab his hands, holding them in your own. “I was so scared that night” you whisper “I thought. I throught for sure I’d never see you again.��� Your voice cracks “you saved me Izuku” his eyes swell with tears, as hard as he was holding them back he couldn’t any longer “I wish you didn’t have to go through that” you reach up and wipe his tears away.

Now you’re two crying people who are desperately in love with each other, both holding each other’s faces wiping away the tears. You can’t keep your feelings hidden any longer, you couldn’t when you knew how easy life could change “I love you Izuku” you whisper and his eyes widen for a second before your words really hit him, his tears flow harder as he leans down, placing a chaste kiss to your lips, your tears mixing together, when he pulls back he takes a big breath with a smile and says “I love you y/n” he says with a laugh, you start to laugh with him “look at us” you say and he laughs a little harder along side you.

When you both calm down, stopping crying and laughing, he helps you out of bed and into the bathroom. Your muscles are stiff from not using them for so long and your legs start to shake after a few minutes. Change into some comfy clothes he had brought you a while ago, in hopes it would help you wake up somehow to know you had some of your things here. When you open the door again he’s right there, taking your arm and helping you back to the bed. He hands you your phone he kept charged and you called your parents, you ended up crying again and telling them that you want them to come over the next day since you just wanted to go home and get comfortable. “Let me speak to Midoriya” you mom says and you laugh holding out your phone to him “it’s for you” he laughs and takes it “hello mrs. l/n. Yes. Yes I will. Yes. Thank you” he hands the phone back to you, his cheeks flushed, you mouthed “what did she say?” At Izuku and he just grinned, unbeknownst to you he’s been talking to your parents every day since you were in the hospital since they live in America and can’t travel. He’s confided in your mom many times about how much he loves you and how scared he was. “I’ll tell you later” he whispers as you continue your conversation with your mom.

After you finish your call you text all your friends and you send out a few messages on your social media’s so your fans know you’re alive and you look at emails and then groan at the number. You sigh and hand your phone to Izuku “can you take this? I’m overwhelmed” he nods “of course” he slips it in his pocket and then pulls you into a hug, rubbing circles across your back as you take deep breaths, the smell of him filling your senses.

A nurse came in after a little while with a wheelchair and your discharge papers. Izuku has your other things in a bag over his shoulder and he follows you out of the hospital with the nurse.

Izuku takes you to your apartment and runs a bath for you, he helps you into the bathroom and then hesitates, “can I ..” he gestures at you and you chuckle, raising your arms above your head, knowing he just wants to take care of you.

He helps you out of your shirt and your bottoms, taking your hand as you step into the hot bubble bath “this is perfect Izuku thank you so much” his face is red from seeing you naked but he feels good that you trust him and love him. He wants to help you feel loved and cared for. He kneels behind the bathtub and wets your hair, gently massaging in the shampoo and conditioner, tears were softly falling down your cheeks as you experienced this moment with him. You felt so loved and taken care of.

You washed your front and he took the wash cloth from you to wash your back, his cheeks getting even redder. He helps you out of the tub and wraps a towel around you, kissing your forehead and pulling you into a hug not caring about the water on your skin and hair. “I’m going to lay out some clothing for you” he says and you nod against his chest. As he disappears you brush your teeth and run a separate towel through your hair. before your legs and arms begin to shake. “Zuku” you say before you find yourself falling to the ground. 

“I’m here sweetheart” he says and catches you, easily sweeping you up into his arms as he carries you out to the bedroom “sorry I took so long” you shake your head, a frown on your lips as tears spring to your eyes yet again “no. Don’t be sorry. You have been,,, so good to me, I can’t ever thank you enough” he sets you gently on the bed and crouches down to look at you closely, a small smile on his lips “I would do anything for you, for nothing at all. I’ve been so lucky for you to give me your heart, to trust me to take care of you. I love you. I will always take care you.”

 you don’t realize you’re crying again until he’s wiping your tears away “come on, lets get you dressed and then I’m going to carry you to the couch where we can watch movies and order take out” you smile and nod “good girl” he stands and grabs the clothes he has laying out, helping you put on your shirt before slipping your underwear up your legs, helping you stand and keeping you steady as you pull them all the way up. he places your hands on his shoulders as he helps put your sweats on you before sweeping you up again. you chuckle softly and he smiles, the sound making him feel the first real happiness he’s felt in weeks. oh how he’s missed your laugh. 

After a good meal you’re feeling more like yourself, you sit on the couch with your feet up on Izuku as he tells you thinks you’ve missed. Like how a new hero is interning with his agency and how Bakugou finally confessed his feelings for Ochako. you could hardly believe you missed so much. “I hope you don’t mind but I’ve been coming here to shower, I just wanted to feel closer to you” he’s shy and look at his hands, blush dusting his cheeks. You turn your body to move closer to him, cupping his cheek and turning his face towards yours, you kiss his nose “I don’t mind. My home has always felt better with you in it” his face blushes deeper and he kisses your lips softly. “I’m so happy, so relived you’re here” you smile “I’m here to stay” you say and he pulls you into his chest, hugging you tight.

“I can’t wait to get stronger and come back to work” you say cuddling into him “I’m glad you still want to be a hero but I would understand if you had a change of heart” he runs his fingers through your hair and you lean back to look at him “thank you for saying that” you caress his cheek and he blushes “but i’m a hero, I have to get my strength back so I can fight along side of you and protect people.” he places his hand over yours “that’s the girl I fell in love with” he places his forehead against yours and you close your eyes “let’s go see Recovery Girl in the morning. she might be able to take care of the damage done to your muscles and then I can help you start training as soon as you want” you chuckle and reach up to place your hands on his neck “that’s a good idea. will you stay here with me tonight?” you rub your thumbs softly against his skin “I was hoping you would ask me that” he whispers and before he can say anything else you close the last few inches between you both and press your lips into his

he sighs and cups your face gently, smiling into the kiss, when you break away his eyes are filled with a mix of love and bliss, “i love you” you whisper and he blushes “I love you” he says back to you and your heart fills with electricity, you’ve been dying to tell him that for months, it feels amazing to finally have it out in the open and reciprocated. you just wish it was under a better circumstance. 

You watch a move while cuddling, his hand in yours and your head against his chest, when it ends you’re already falling asleep against him. he chuckles as he turns off the tv, picking you up easily “I cant believe im falling asleep. You would think i got enough of it the last three weeks” you say as he carries you to bed. he tucks you in and turns to leave but  you pop up, fully awake and grab his hand “don't leave!” you shout and then blush, embarrassed at your outburst, you drop his hand and look down at your hands in your lap “I’m sorry” you whisper and he reaches out, tilting your chin up to look at him “don’t worry” he leans down and kisses your forehead “I’m going to shower and then i’ll come right back here to you” you blush deeper, feeling a little worse for your outburst. “okay” you whisper and he leans down, kissing your forehead before re-tucking you in “I couldn’t leave you and I don’t want to. Don’t worry my sweetheart”

when he gets back after his quick shower you’re still in the same position, he thought you were asleep until he slid in next to you and you pulled him to you, cuddling in to his chest “finally” you whisper and his heart flutters, you were waiting for him. “you make me feel safe” you whisper “I’ll always keep you safe, no matter what” he says and you kiss his shirtless chest “always my hero” you say before finally feeling relaxed enough to fall asleep. 

[zinnia-the-rabbit]

    Bakudeku oneshot: "I'll love you for a thousand years." "And I'll love you for a thousand more"

Uh,idk what this au is called.. probably soulmate au???? Idk,man. I found the concept on twitter and I needed to write about it.

Pretty long story because I'm so invested in this au. It makes me happy and sad and i love it so much. I hope you guys do to!

💮Fluff💮

🔞 smutty implications🔞, but nothing actually happens.

Sad ending, trust me. I teared up,and I'm the one writing it. I had it all planned out and I still wasn't ready. So, good luck.

Summary: The gods cursed our little wonder duo. They are soulmates,but in every lifetime that they find each other, the gods separates them. Basically-

Enjoy!!!!

🧡💚🧡💚🧡💚🧡💚🧡💚🧡💚🧡💚🧡💚

Third person bc I wasn't bothered to write in first person today)

    No matter how many times they've met, they are always taken from each other,no matter what. They always fell in love, and it always pained them when they were forced apart.

    The first time it happened was thousands of years ago, back when dragons roamed and knights saved princesses from the evil clutches of their wicked mother.

    A time when fairies and nymphs danced around deep in the forest,hidden away from the unforgiving eyes of the humans who wanted nothing more then to captures and sell them for profit.

    This, is where we meet our our beloved boys.

    Katsuki had stolen from a mighty god's shrine, taking some of the offerings to give as his own to a certain little witch, wishing to finally win the greenette over.

    He never believed in the gods. No,they were just stories made to scare children straight. Make sure they followed all the rules to a 'T'.

    Well,not Katsuki.

    He thought of himself as a god, really. Tall, strong,fierce  red eyes that could kill a bear with a single,deadly gaze that was as sharp as a dagger. He was the perfect picture of godly.

    "If you don't get off your high horse and show our gods some respect,they will surely smite you!" ,His mother would scold him, smacking the side of his head with a bruising force.

    He would only scoff in annoyance, and go about his way.

    Silly,silly little Katsuki..he didn't know the gods were watching,and were most certainly unpleased with his disrespectful behavior.

    Katsuki stepped over yet another large root that descended out of the mossy,wet earth below his feet. He kept his bag of offerings slung over his shoulder, grip tight just in case some fairies tried to steal the bag. The little sparkly pests.

    He had grabbed anything he could without getting caught; rich herbs good for creating spells, jewelery lined the only the most expensive stones, rubies,perls, diamonds, emeralds.

    He took several of the finest cloaks he could find. Some velvet and lined lined with the fluffy coat of a grey wolf. Some silk with flowers beautifully sewn into the comforting fabric.

    He had a smaller bag attached to his belt, just next to the sheath in which his sword was placed neatly and securely.

    This bag was filled with food, sweet things for the smaller,green haired male. Honey buns, cinnamon rolls, many, many handfuls of green tea mochi that he knew the witch loved more then life itself. He grabbed moon pies, macaroons, super cubes, and a couple of regular little meat buns.bHe even made sure to get at least two or three of those adorable little tudor cheesecakes.

    Did I mention this man was head over heels for our little Izuku?

    He was soon standing in front of a small cottage, smiling as he could see little puffs of grey and white smoke erupting from the chimney.

    The witch was home.

    Good.

    He walked up to the old mahogany door and knocked firmly, yet gentle,in a way.

    This cottage was old, you could tell from miles away. Long winding vines overtook an entire wall, and,in the spring, would bloom with small flowers.There were sprouts of plants peeking their way through the small cracks in the roof,and he had half a nerve to climb up and pull them out. But, Izu liked them,so he wouldn't. It's not like the roof leaked anyway, which amazed him, really.

    Some of the stones that made up the comforting little home were chipped,and others had chunks missing from the years spent unprotected from mother nature's rath. He still loved it all, though. This was like his second home.

    The door slowly creeked open and a head full of green, unruly culrs poked its way out of the safety of the home, big emerald eyes meeting Katsuki's ruby ones.

    "Kacchan!", The little witch smiled, swinging the door open and running into the taller males arms.

    "Hey,there my darling little spell caster. I brought you some things.", Katsuki hummed, smiling warmly.

    Izuku pulled away, looking at him sceptically.

    "Are you still trying to court me?", He asked leading the man inside.

    He was very much aware that the blond liked him, and he felt the same..he just wanted to tease and reject him just to get on his nerves.

    It was a fun little game they liked to play...Cat and mouse,if you will.

    The blond just chuckled, pulling the door closed.

    He could tell the little witch had been busy before he had arrived. His large black cauldron was hanging over a live fire and filled with a purplish blue liquid that was bubbling quietly.

    It smelled of lavender and citrus, maybe from a-

    He was quickly shook from his thoughts as the greenette bent down to pick up a few loose papers from the floor before standing up straight and placing them on his desk.

    Damn..

    He was always getting distracted by those wide hips whenever the witch was around, and he just couldn't help it. Katsuki wanted nothing more than to grab at his slim waist and grip his green culrs tightly, as he bent him over his desk and mark up his neck.

    He thought about that often.. maybe too often..While he's at it,he could probably convince Izuku to bounce on his-

    "Kacchan? Hellloooo?" A sweet little voice snaps him out of his little day dream and he has to look down to see the small male standing right in front of him.

     "Did you hear a word I just said?" Izuku huffed, crossing his arms.

    Katsuki almost zoned out again when he saw the little heart shaped freckle that was delicately placed on Izu's right cheek that he just loved so much.

    "Uh,no, sorry. I was trying to figure out what that other smell is. I can only pinpoint lavender,and I think orange?" Katsuki tilted his head to the side.

    "Well, you'd be correct." Izuku had hummed, smiling, "Ive been trying to change up a few potions and make them smell lovely so anyone who passed by won't know they are potions."

    Katsuki let out a small hum back before walking into the kitchen and setting the bags on the nice wooden table. Izuku followed behind him, humming.

    The blond man opened one of the bags and pulled out a necklace, carefully putting it around the smaller's neck gently. He kissed the greenette's forehead gently,which caused him to blush deeply.

    "You're adorable." Katsuki smiled.

    They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, Izu sitting on the table and Katsuki standing between his legs, cuddling each other close.

    "I accept.." Izu says gently, nuzzling his nose against the blonds jaw lightly.

    Katsuki paused, looking at him.

    Was...was Izuku finally accepting his feelings...?

    The blond haired male gripped Izu's shoulders and pulled him back, looking him right in his emerald eyes.

    "You do know what you're getting into, right?" Katsuki smirked, grabbing the wide rim of Izuku's pointed, black hat and places it on the table.

    "Of course I do."

    That's all it took for the taller man to lean in and capture the witch's lips in his own in a sickeningly sweet kiss that the greenette happily returned.

    Alas, that fateful kiss was just what the gods needed.

    That moment of pure love is what the gods would use against them.

    They pulled away, and just as Katsuki went to speak the mahogany door slammed open. Izuku gasped and clung to the taller, a fearful expression as several knights rushed inside.

    "So, it was true! There is a witch!" One of them shouted and Katsuki pulled the male in question close.

    "Ah-ha! And the little non-believing thief!" Another exclaimed as the men in the mental armor came twords them.

    How..how had they found them...?

    Katsuki kept his lover held tightly in his arms and growled as a few of the knights pulled them apart forcefully. He thrashed and kicked, trying desperately to get away and protect Izu.

    This wasn't supposed to happen...

    The knights pulled them outside despite their objections and thrashing.

    "O-ow! You're hurting me!" Izuku cried out as he was forced to kneel down.

     Sure enough,there were deep purpling bruises starting to form on his exposed arms,the men holding him way to tightly.

    "Let go of him!" Katsuki growled, but his demand fell on deaf ears.

    The two were facing each other with their wrists bound behind their backs. Izuku had tears rolling down his cheeks and he was shaking.

    This couldn't be real.

    "How did you find us?!" Katsuki shouted, trying to free himself. Our blond boy was beyond pissed.

     "Easy. A little fairy told us." A knight said, amused as a little fairy with spikey black hair, and sharp blue eyes fluttered over. He had deep blue wings and purple markings across his body.

    "D-dabi?!" Izuku gasped out. That little fairy was his friend...well,he was supposed to be.

    "I'm sorry, Izuku.." The tiny raven haired male sighed, acting sad. He smiled widely, though, as a knight handed him a mochi.

    The fairy gave Izu a small part on the head before flying away, humming a little tune. Katsuki couldn't believe his eyes. They little fairy was always around.

    He always helped Izu with his spells. He helped Baku find his way at night with his vibrant blue glow. Then he betrayed them..? That little bitch.

    "This is why I hate fairies! You're nothing but scum!" Katsuki growled, thrashing around violently.

    This was bullshit.

    He's gonna stomp on that fairy.

    He's gonna eat him whole.

    He's gonna tear his little wings off.

    He's gonna-

    "By order of the king, you are both to be put to death."

    Katsuki stilled.

    "Both of you have been proven guilty of several crimes, including witchcraft and stealing from the gods."

    No. Nonono! He just got Izu to be his for real, he..he can't die. They can't die!

    Izuku let out a loud sob at the sound of a sword being pulled from its protective sheath,and the distress in his voice caused Katsuki to tear up.

    "I-izuku, my little spell caster, close you're eyes." Katsuki instructed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against the smaller's. Izuku did as told, letting his eyes flutter shut as he tried to calm his breathing.

    They both couldn't contain a yelp when a tip of a sword touched each of their backs, the duo staring to tremble.

    This couldn't be happening.. This was all too surreal.

  "We aren't heartless,so you may say your goodbyes." One of the men hummed, sounding sincere.

    Katsuki didn't know what to say...how how do you sum up years of love and admiration into a bitter goodbye?

    They opened their eyes to look at each other, Izu giving his lover a smile,a smile that held so many emotions behind it.

    Katsuki gave a small smile back, letting out a broken chuckle. Their last words to each other were those of truth, a promise they'd keep forever.

    Those knights returned to the kingdom with sour faces. They felt bad for having to end the lovers in such a way. They were mad at themselves.

    No matter how many times they meet, Izuku and Katsuki are always tragically separated.

    No matter how many times they fall in love, they can never experience each other too long, because it could all end in the blink of an eye.

    But, no matter what, they always depart from their beloved with the same words tingling their tounges;

"I'll love you for a thousand years."

"And I'll love you for a thousand more"

[sbtlns]

Home, part five

Warnings: mainly fluff, very slight nsfw

A/N: sorry for the delay in posting, a bitch is goin through it! i hope you enjoy the recipe for the depression meal ive been making everyday of quarantine lmao. i’m working on a request that should be done later this week, so send me any requests you have! also if you have any thoughts on where you want this series to go let me know!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Cas carried the grocery bags to the front door where you stood, thumb running over the key that had rested idly on your keychain for three years. After seeing Castiel waiting patiently behind you, you unlocked the door and held it open for him. “Home sweet home, Cas!” you exclaimed cheerfully, taking in your surroundings. Castiel stood still, eyes taking in every detail your home had to offer. “This is a beautiful home, Y/N,” he said softly. “I think so too, Cas,” you smiled at him. “All right let’s put these groceries away and fix up some dinner,” you said, clapping his back and walking into the kitchen. Castiel followed closely behind you like a lost puppy. You sorted through the groceries, putting everything away except what you would be using to cook dinner.

“It’s already late so I’m just gonna make a quick pasta, if that’s okay,” you bit your lip looking for any signs of protest on his face. “I can cook something nicer tomorrow,” you added quickly. Castiel smiled reassuringly at you before saying, “pasta will be more than enough, thank you, Y/N.” You smiled back to him and turned to get some water boiling in the pot. Once it boiled, you dumped in some pasta and then grabbed a pan and set it on another burner. You threw some olive oil in the pan, followed by some garlic, chopped basil, and spinach. Once the pasta was done, you drained it and tossed it into the pan to mix it in with the other ingredients. Castiel stood behind you watching intently. “This smells lovely, Y/N,” he commented. “Well,” you said grabbing two bowls from the cabinet. “Let’s hope it tastes good too.” 

 You filled both bowls, grabbed silverware, and set it all down on the table. “Here, Cas,” you said gesturing to a bowl in front of an empty seat. He took the hint and sat down while you made your way to the cabinet to grab a wine glass. “Do you want some wine?” you asked over your shoulder. He furrowed his brow, deep in thought. After a few moments he replied, “I’m not sure if I will like it, but I would like to try.” You nodded and grabbed a second glass, filling both with white wine. You made your way back over to the table, setting his glass in front of him. You watched as he took a forkful of pasta and looked at it carefully before taking a bite. You stifled a laugh as his eyes widened, looking up at you and vehemently nodding. “Y/N,” he began, mouth full of pasta. “This..this is incredible!” “Thanks, Cas, it’s just pasta,” you laughed, digging in to you bowl. He took a big gulp of wine and you laughed at the way his face immediately scrunched up. “Cas,” you said between laughs. “You’re not supposed to chug it,” you told him while he coughed, struggling to recover from the burn of the alcohol. “I think,” he coughed, “I think I will stick to water for now.”

After the two of you finished dinner, Castiel was insistent on washing the dishes. “It’s the least I can do,” he repeatedly said in defense to your protests. “Fine, thank you. I’m gonna grab a shower, I’ll be back down soon,” you said over your shoulder as you made your way to the staircase. You walked up the stairs and down the hallway, stopping when you reached the spot where you had found your sister on that fateful night. You shut your eyes, clutching the necklace she had given you before her death tighter to your chest. Taking a deep breath, you made your way to the linen closet, grabbed a towel, and walked into the bathroom. You opened your music app on your phone while reaching into the shower to turn the hot water on. You undressed, singing to your favorite song and slipped into the shower. You sighed in relief as your muscles relaxed into the hot water; you had been driving for so long and it felt good to finally be home. You turned to grab the shampoo when you saw it. The biggest spider you had ever seen in your entire life. Your blood ran cold as a piercing shriek involuntarily left your lips. You desperately tried to back up from it, but lost your footing and you fell, scrambling to get out of the tub. You had just barely covered yourself with your towel and the door flew open and Castiel stumbled in. 

“Y/N!” Castiel yelled, eyes wide in concern, darting across the room trying to find your attacker. Not seeing any threat, his brows furrowed as he cast his gaze down to you, dripping wet and clinging on to your towel. Your face was pale and you tried to explain yourself. “Sp-spider in th-the show-er,” you managed to get out, arm pointing behind you. Brows still furrowed, he tilted his head in confusion and stepped toward the shower. He drew back the curtain and found your assailant. He quickly scooped it up in his hands and left the bathroom. You took a deep breath and let out a shaky exhale, trying to calm yourself after making an absolute fool of yourself in front of Castiel. Silently cursing yourself, you stepped back into the shower. 

After changing into one of Sam’s old college shirts that came to your mid-thigh and some boy-cut underwear, you walked back downstairs trying to overcome your embarrassment. Castiel was sitting quietly on the couch, thumbing through one of your coffee table books. He turned as he heard you enter the room and gave you a gentle smile. “The spider is outside, where he belongs,” he said assuringly. You gave him a stiff smile, trying to ignore the red creeping up your cheeks. You cleared your throat before saying, “sorry if I scared you I just....” you trailed off, plopping down next to him on the couch. Sighing, you continued, “I know that I literally fight monsters for a living but..spiders,” you shivered. “I don’t do spiders,” you said, cutting yourself off from rambling. Castiel nodded understandingly. “Some of my father’s creations can be...intimidating,” he agreed. You sighed again and shook your head. “Do you wanna do something? We could put on a movie or play a board game, or if you’re tired I can show you your room,” you said turning to the former angel. Castiel thought for a moment. He knew that he was tired and would soon require sleep, but he couldn’t shake the ever present longing to spend time with you. 

“I think I would like to watch a movie with you,” he stated confidently, peering into your eyes. Fighting the urge to get lost in his eyes, you nodded and quickly turned to find the remote. The two of you decided on a cheesy looking horror movie, something you and Dean would have chosen for one of your weekly movie nights. You ignored the pang in your heart as you thought about the brothers, instead focusing on the movie in front of you. You settled into your seat on the couch, just inches away from Cas. He glanced longingly at the distance between you before shaking his head and turning back to the screen. A decent chunk of the movie had passed when there was suddenly a jumpscare you hadn’t anticipated. You gasped loudly, jumping at the monster on the screen. Castiel fought the urge to wrap his arms around you, comforting you the way he had done after waking you up from the nightmare you had at the motel. He was about to turn his attention back to the screen when his eyes grazed your newly bare thigh. The big t-shirt you were wearing had ridden up most of your thigh when you jumped, leaving your skin exposed. His eyes wandered up your leg, stopping at the apex of your thighs, still covered by the shirt. Castiel crossed his legs, desperately trying to ignore his tightening pants, and looked back up at the screen. He tried not to think of how soft your exposed skin would be to touch, how your body would react to his hand inching up your thighs, creeping higher and higher until-

“Cas?” Your voice ripped him away from his thoughts. He quickly turned to you, his wide eyes meeting your concerned expression. “Yes,” he choked out. Your features softened and you chuckled. “Did you hear what I said?” He looked down, avoiding your gaze. “No,” he muttered. You laughed again, resting your hand on his thigh. His eyes shot open and he felt his heart race and a blush creeping up to his face. “I said,” you began in a teasing voice, “I’m tired and I don’t want to fall asleep down here. Come on, I’ll show you your room.” You stood up and Castiel watched in disappointment as you t-shirt fell back down to your mid-thigh. He got up and followed you up the stairs to the room directly across from yours. “If you need an extra blanket, there’s some in the cabinet, the towels are in the hallway closet, and.....” you look around looking for anything else worth mentioning. “I think that’s it. Tomorrow I was thinking we could go shopping for some clothes for you, unless you wanna keep wearing the same outfit,” you joked. “If you need anything I’m right across the hall, don’t hesitate to knock,” you said smiling up at the former angel. He glanced around the room before his eyes landed on you, returning your smile. “Thank you, Y/N, you have been very kind to me...more than I deserve I’m afraid,” he trailed off, casting his eyes down to the floor. “Hey,” you began, reaching up to lay your hand on his shoulder. “You deserve the world, Cas. You’ve been so good to me,” you said as he lifted his head, meeting your stare. You stood there smiling at him for a second before removing your hand and saying, “Goodnight, Castiel,” and walking out of his room and in to yours. “Goodnight, my Y/N,” he said softly, sighing as he watched you walk into your room and close the door. 

~~

You woke up feeling more well-rested than you’d felt in a while. You got out of bed and made your way downstairs, noting Castiel’s closed door. You brewed a pot of coffee, enough for the two of you to have a couple of cups. You poured yourself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table, reading the newspaper and carefully scanning the stories for any mysterious deaths in the area. You heard footsteps padding down the stairs followed by a yawn and you smiled to yourself. You turned around to greet the sleep ridden Castiel but you were met with a surprise. Standing before you was the former angel rubbing the sleep from his eyes, dressed in just the t-shirt he had been wearing the day before and a pair of boxers that were fitting a bit...snug. Castiel had not realized his predicament until he followed your line of vision down. His eyes shot open and his face burned in sudden embarrassment. 

“Y/N, I-” he cut himself off searching for what to say. You looked back up at him with raised eyebrows and opened your mouth to respond before he cut you off. “My vessel..it....I don’t..know...” he stuttered in a panic. You reached out for his hand and took it between yours. “Cas,” you said softly, smiling reassuringly at him. “This is um, a very natural thing for um, for a man’s body..in the morning,” you said awkwardly. He pulled his hand back and hung his head in shame, turning away from you. You bit your lip, feeling for the newly human Castiel. All of these experiences must be so overwhelming for him, especially this. You debated what to do in your head; on one hand you were secretly dying to help him yourself, you had been fantasizing about you and the angel since you first met him. On the other hand, you knew you couldn’t take advantage of him, especially when he was so vulnerable. Sighing, the angel on your shoulder won out. 

“Cas,” you said, clearing your throat. “Maybe um, maybe you should call Dean...this is kind of his area of expertise.” Castiel nodded before walking back up the stairs. You sighed to yourself as you sipped at your coffee, trying to ignore the heat that had pooled in your core.

--------

tag list: (message me if you want to be added) 

@antoniamarie1989-blog @transparentfestivaltiger 

[timextoxhajima]

Playlist Feels

*SHORT SERIES

Member: *falls off his chair* juyeon

Genre: BIG ANGST + drama with chaebol/lawyer juyeon

A/N: NOTE THAT THIS IS A TRIGGER WARNING. I can’t include the reason because it’ll be a spoiler BUT THIS IS FICTITIOUS SO DON’T COME @ ME PLEASE

A/N pt 2: there isn’t much juyeon in this chapter so skip it if you just want some juyeon one shots

Links to other parts:

I Never Wanna See You Again

Frustrated (light smut)

Love Somebody (light smut)

Play With Fire (smut)

Stigma

Bourbon

Highway To Heaven (smut)

I Like Me Better

All Time Low

~

“so much for ‘i love you’.”

“are you sure you want to get on a more-than-twelve-hour flight to freakin’--” sunwoo grabs your passport and flips it open. “Amsterdam?” 

you snatch the passport back, shoving it into the pocket of your knee-length coat. 

“you ran from your family once...” chanhee looks at you with pleading eyes. “are you sure you want to run from this one?”

looking up from the passport, luggage next to your legs and surrounded by your friends, you scan the big, block letters that spell ‘departure’ across the entrance to the hall. 

“i’m not running. i just need to think.”

“the last time you were on a plane, you hurled from the turbulence,” eric scolds. “and it was a three-hour flight.”

you roll your eyes and raise a brow at your friends. they were all just finding ways to convince you stay instead of watching you leave the country just days after you find them jobs that were extremely high-paying. 

the calls you made were probably setting off a thousand alarms that would alert both your parents, since you were relying on the contacts you had as a chaebol. it was just a matter of time before they’d figure out that you left the country or something. 

“so what if i hurl? i’ll be fine when the plane lands.”

chanhee’s features were strained, and eric sighs, pulling you into a hug and giving you a brotherly rub on your head. 

“call us when you get there and tell us when you’re coming back, we’ll come get you.” eric releases you and sunwoo gives you a gently punch to your arm. you nod and look to chanhee, your arms already reaching out to him. 

chanhee takes a small step backwards, eyes looking like he was hurt. you knew he was upset with you for blowing things out of proportion with juyeon. if you didn’t try to defend him, the whole argument with juyeon wouldn’t have happened. but it was a fact that he crossed the line, and it had nothing to do with chanhee.

“if i let you hug me, then it means there’s a chance you’re going to run and i’ll never see you again.”

your arms remained stretched out but your head droops to the side, pouting a little and walking towards him regardless.

“i’m not going to run, chanhee,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “and even if i do, i’ll come back just to see you guys. you have my word.”

you hear him sigh in resignation and his arms find your lower back. “i’ll hold you to that. i’ll hunt you down myself if you disappear off the face of earth.”

you snicker as you pulled back, constantly swallowing your saliva so you don’t burst into ugly tears. 

you settle down in your seat and the passenger next to you greets you kindly. the skies outside the window next to you provided you the warmth and a strange feeling of freedom, but there was so much weight in your heart, you were worried the plane wouldn’t even take off. 

you recall the first time you were on a plane. it was a private flight to paris with your parents when you were still a kid. you spent half the time throwing up because of the turbulence.

the second time you were on a plane, it was with eric, chanhee and sunwoo to a nearby country. they watched you hurl out your meals like a fountain and though it might’ve been a little mean and annoying in that point of time, you look back now and realise that all they were trying to do was to make you laugh and get your mind off your motion-sickness.

you wouldn’t be who you were today if it weren’t for them. 

had they not dragged you onto a plane, you’d probably still be scared to fly with your motion sickness. but thanks to them, it didn’t matter anymore. it doesn’t matter if you threw up, all you needed to do was think about them and you’ll be fine. 

you watch the sunset below the clouds that look like cotton and marshmallows, the constant whirring of the vehicle was slowly but surely getting to your head. the pressure of being in the sky was squeezing the juices out of your brain and making your eyes tear up. your ears were slightly blocked, so blasting music didn’t really help.

you feel the familiar ball of stomach acid push itself up your throat and into your chest, and you barely get the words out to the passenger next to you before she shifts and lets you out. 

you watch the half-digested grains of rice and fruit spew out through your lips and into the toilet bowl, the material on your knees soaking up whatever liquid that was on the floor. might’ve been pee, but who cares?

“miss, are you alright?”

“yeah--” you belch out a disgusting scent, a mixture of vomit and food. “i’m okay.” 

you grab a handful of tissue and wipe your lips, leaning back on your heels before losing your balance when the plane shakes a little. your back hits the wall of the cabin, and a headache rips through your temples. 

you grit your teeth and groans of pain unconsciously pour out through your lips, your hands now pressing into your ear as the pressure in them become physical pain. 

“miss! are you okay? do you need any assistance?”

“i’m fine!” you snap back. “it’s just a little... headache--”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“stay with me forever.”

“i can’t pretend you’re not the best thing that’s happened to me.”

“i love you.”

you vision widens and start to focus, but you frown to yourself when you process nothing besides a plain, white ceiling with amber lights lining the edges. 

you inhale a deep breath and you give your nerves a moment to find your fingers. you blink so slowly, you were wondering if you were paralyzed or if your brain was just processing it super slowly.

“you’re awake.”

that voice.

turning in search of the source, your eyes catch a glimpse of the room you were in. there was a table in the corner of the room, a television mounted to the wall, and the floor was carpeted with a cream colored rug. 

you process the views before you spot an IV drip, and it was hooked up to your left hand. the blanket was riled up to your stomach, and the scent of the room knocks some sense into your thinking. 

you were in a hospital ward.

“where am i?” you breathe lightly, shutting your lids and rolling your eyes under to make sure you weren’t in a dream. 

“in amsterdam, where else?” 

“what date and time is it?” you look behind him and note the pathetic amount of afternoon sunlight spilling through the blinds that were closed. 

“i don’t know how that’s going to tell you how long you’ve been here, but you passed out halfway on your flight here. you’ve been in this bed for more than thirty hours.”

you suck in a sharp breath and cover your eyes with one arm, the disgusting scent of medicine and antiseptic making your lungs hurt. 

“how did you know i was here?”

dumb question to ask.

“it was a little difficult to ignore the calls you were making to my sub-ordinates and colleagues and partners. adding on the fact that your mother called to scream at me about you getting on a plane here,” your father gets out of the sofa next to your bed and walks around to the table, pouring a glass of water. “i wasn’t very keen on hearing her out until she told me your flight was to amsterdam.”

he brings the glass to you and holds it out.

“it was tricky to pretend that you aren’t my daughter... who also happens to have motion-sickness but still gets on a flight alone.”

you scoff, sitting up and taking the glass only because your throat was killing you. “fun to know that i need to get on a plane to get your attention.”

your father scratches a temple and waits for you to finish the glass of water.

“enough attention for me to cancel my meetings and fly here from croatia. i left the moment the airline called me to tell me my daughter passed out on the flight your mother was telling me about.”

you gulp the last bit of water and hold it to your chest. he gestures for it, and you reluctantly let him take it away from you. 

it reminds you of all the times his house staff waited on you and how bad it made you feel. but you were always happy knowing that they were comfortable working in that house. 

“so, do i get to know why i had to cancel my meetings to find you here, in a ward?” he lands the cup on the table and refers to the sofa seat next to you. 

“solo trip to get away from city life. i simply passed out from the turbulence a long-flight was putting me through.”

he’s probably not going to buy that.

“that’s not very healthy.”

you scoff, lying back down into the bed and running your hand through your hair. “of course it’s not healthy. anymore throwing up and i’ll erode my own digestive system. if only i could fault someone for my throwing up.”

silence. 

“so... whose is it?”

“what do you mean ‘whose is it’? i was born with a weak gut, so i guess it’s mine.”

silence. 

“i’m not talking about your motion-sickness, y/n. i’m talking about the 15-week foetus inside you.”

the what--

“15-week foetus? what are you--”

oh.

no.

“you didn’t know you were pregnant?”

your heart felt like it was going to explode and a wave of ache rips through your chest. 

“if it’s a 15-week-old foetus, shouldn’t you have already missed like two or three periods?”

your fingers find your temples and you shut your eyes tightly. you start to feel your eyes getting wet and your nose turns sour as you desperately try to find any strand of possibility that this wasn’t happening. 

“i was... working. i thought it was just the stress--” all of a sudden, you see nothing but juyeon’s face in your head. your eyes were sealed shut but you saw nothing but him. 

and now you were carrying his child. 

“huh,” your father calmly watches you go through a whole mental breakdown. “you’re not wearing a ring, so i assume the baby’s father isn’t my son-in-law?” 

you turn to look at him with tears impairing your vision. 

“your mother told me you were engaged over the phone. you can imagine my confusion when you turn up here, on the other side of the planet, alone, pregnant and without a ring.”

this can’t be real.

“get out.”

your father sucks in a sharp breath through his nostrils.

“you can fly back to croatia and tell mother not to poke her nose into this. i’ll deal with it on my own.”

he nods in your peripheral vision, your eyes only staring at an empty space on the ceiling. you shut your eyes and let the tears roll down the sides of your face, curving its way into the crevices of your ears. the sound of the shoes thumping softly against the carpet tells you he’s leaving and you hear the door swing open.

“call me if you need anything. i’m still your father after all.”

and with that, you hear the door shut. 

you let yourself sob quietly, the reality sinking into your bones and you swore you could hear your heart beating in your ears. your hands find your abdomen, and you question why the product of your love with him was presented to you not in the form of casual dates and a simpler romance, but a baby, in a world of money you wanted nothing to do with. 

you pull yourself together after about an hour of crying, and through swollen eyes, you find your luggage and bags behind the sofa seat your father previously sat on. fumbling around your bag, you were relieved that your phone had not been turned on the entire time since you boarded the plane. it would still be close to full battery.

your home screen becomes flooded with notifications of missed calls. from eric, sunwoo, chanhee, your mother, even your manager, and him.

you swipe away everything and let the phone adjust to the timezone and boot up, and once it was good to go, your first instinct was to call chanhee. 

“where have you been?! your flight landed like... a billion years ago!”

“chanhee--”

“you better have a damn good explanation for fucking disappearing off the face of the fucking earth when you literally told me you won’t--”

“i--”

“where are you now, huh?! strutting down some random street in amsterdam thinking about coming back like, never?!”

“chanh--”

“believe me, i WILL get on a plane and fly to amsterdam just to strangle you myself!”

“chanhee, i’m pregnant.”

the other end of the line goes silent and you wonder if he hung up or something. 

you hear him breathe into the receiver and that was your cue to finish your story.

“i passed out on the flight and now i’m in a hospital in amsterdam. my father’s in the country because the airline called him about me but i don’t know how long he’s staying,” you pause, bracing yourself to repeat that cursed word reality has decided to offer you. “i’m three months pregnant.”

silence. 

you look down at your hands that were absent-mindedly fiddling with the corners of your blanket. your hair was messy and draped over your shoulders. your eyes struggle to remain wide open after the excessive crying in the last hour. 

“... does he know?”

“no. even i didn’t.”

“what are you going to do about the baby?”

you purse your lips, pain rippling through you when you realise you had to make a decision that would change your life forever.

“i assume you’re not planning on telling him?”

it was your turn to fall silent.

you don’t want to be a shitty person for hiding this from him, but neither did you want him to have an opinion on what you should do with it. 

“i think you should know that he’s been searching high and low for you. sangyeon and jaehyun told us that he’s been to your place and the only thing he hasn’t done is call the bureau director.”

“i’ll tell him after i decide what to do with it.”

“and?”

“i’ll tell him--”

“i know what you’re thinking of doing.”

you feel your facial features strain and compress all into each other, your thumb brushing the skin on your finger where the ring should be. 

“you’re thinking of aborting it and telling him right before you get it done, aren’t you?”

he wasn’t your best friend for nothing. 

“i know it sucks... the situation you’re in. and i don’t want to be the one who guilt trips you into keeping it just because it’s his or that it’s a life. so forget about him, and think about yourself before you decide to do anything. it’s yours as much as it’s his, and i know you have the means to raise it on your own, both financially and emotionally.”

chanhee’s words crush your last attempt at holding yourself together, and you bury your face into your free hand with the phone held to your ear. 

“you’re hurting, and i know there’s nothing i can do to make you feel better besides give you what you need right now, and that’s space and emotional support,” a pause. “so call me when you’ve decided, and i promise i’ll see you soon.”

you sniffle loudly into the receiver, sure that he heard you. nodding to yourself, you thank chanhee and hang up, letting whatever fluids you had left inside you pour out through your eyes. 

THE NEXT DAY

“thank you, it was a great stay,” you smile at the hospital receptionist, handing her the black and silver card that your father left behind. it had your name on it, but this was the first time you’ve ever used it.

you promised yourself you’d return the money when you earn it back. you didn’t want them to use this as a hold to keep you by their side. 

“the bill’s already been paid by your father, miss,” she returns a bright smile and hands the card back to you.

ugh, one step late. 

“in fact, he informed us that he’s booked you a place to stay in a hotel nearby. it’s a five-star hotel so there’s everything you need there, and if you feel uncomfortable or in need of medical assistance, it’s only a five minute drive here from the hotel.”

you provide her a weak service smile as you chuck the card back into your wallet. 

the receptionist calls you a cab and sends you on your way to the castle-looking hotel. the hotel staff get your luggage and belongings up to the room while you roam around the lobby and the compound. you find yourself outside the building, now walking along the path next to the river bank. 

couples were eating and drinking the evening away, the orange beams from the sun shining down on you and elongating the shadows of the birds that fly past above you in the sun’s light. 

you find yourself in a secluded spot where the river opens up to the sea after spending nearly an hour just walking along the water line. 

the only source of light around were the street lamps, and the water extends so far out, you couldn’t even see the horizon. you hear someone walk past every now and then and they kindly greet you. the friendly culture here was making you feel so comfortable, you couldn’t help but laugh at chanhee’s worry about you staying here forever. 

you pull out your phone and dial for the abortion provider of the hospital you stayed at, and for a second you worry about the medical bills. 

but it was quickly washed away once the abortion provider picks up, and you start inquiring about abortion protocols. your eyes travel out to sea as the person on the other end of the line feeds you the information that you were going to need to look over again once you’ve returned to the hotel.

your mind flashes back to the night juyeon proposed to you after you told him about your family. and you truly wonder...

life has a way of putting you in places you were meant to be.

Part 11 (final): Gravity

[oberynmartell]

the hour of the wolf part v

[Prologue | Part One] [Part II] [Part III] [Part IV] 

"I've got you, omega. My omega."

Rey allowed herself a moment to luxuriate in the words after they were uttered by the massive man before her, the unflinching certainty and aplomb that had been present in his deep voice making her lips tremble, her knees nearly giving out beneath her at the look in his dark eyes as he spoke.

She had spent so many years on her own in the barren wastelands of Jakku, working her callused fingers bloody to find enough salvage to trade for food that day, trudging through the sand each night to return to an empty home where her only company were her daydreams and the whip of cold desert wind. She had been utterly and completely alone, dreaming about the day her parents would come for her— when someone would come for her, to tell her they loved her, that they cared for her.

After so many years of unending isolation and loneliness, it was almost overwhelming to be in Ben's presence now. To see him standing before her, pledging his care, his protection, his affection, for the rest of her life, promising that he would carry her not only through this heat, but, from the unwavering sincerity in his soft eyes and the firmness with which he spoke, through all the heats to come.

Pleasure unfurled in the cavern of her chest at his words, filling and filling and filling until it overflowed. Rey's body flooded with affection, the pleasure brought on by his praise palpable in every charged moment that passed between them, every milimetre of distance between their bodies, every breath sharply exhaled from her heaving chest.

He claimed her, he wanted her— and just the thought of not spending the rest of her days alone made Rey feel as though she might burst from the warmth that spread through her chest and belly.

She preened under his attentions, captured in the cage of his strong arms as he planted them on either side of her, backing her against a tall oak tree that seemed to be trembling just as much as she. His eyes were black as the obsidian curls shining in the silver moonlight that bathed them, gazing over her as she stood before him, concealed only by the soft flush that coloured her cheeks and began to arc down her slim throat.  

He moved slow, deliberate, closing what little space lay between them, bowing his head to catch her earlobe between his front teeth and tug gently. She moaned, feeling his warm breath fan out across her neck, sharp teeth dragging down the arc of her jaw beside her ear, teeth marking her skin in a way her omega craved would stay forever.

Rey watched the rain fall down his face as it sprayed down from above, water arcing down his scarred cheek and over the corner of his soft lips and she could not help but lean forward to catch the water that fell from his skin like teardrop diamonds. His skin tasted like warmth and rain and sweet, southern spices, like all the comfort of a home she had so long ached for, like darkness and hunger and barely restrained desire. Like Ben— and Rey couldn't get enough.

Her lips pulled a soft bruise to the surface of his skin beneath the flushed gland on his neck, his moan reverberating through her as though it had been uttered flush just against the shell of her ear, and he tilted his head so that she could continue, could follow the line of his jaw, could lower her mouth to his throat and plant a hundred kisses there.

Ben groaned, more animal than man, hands clenched at his sides to keep from reaching for her. His hips jerked, twitching forward to grind against her belly, hungry, rabid, near feral with want, unable to resist the unbridled longing that coursed through him, thicker and faster and more potent than his alpha blood. Anxiety thrummed in his chest like the impetuous beat of a hummingbird's wings, a silent battle raging between alpha and Ben as the beast urged to protect and fuck and claim.

“Alpha...” she breathed, her voice clouded and far away.

He could smell the heat on her skin, could see the way a flush curled down her neck as it heated her, the hand not curled around his shoulder clutching weakly at her aching belly. The alpha within him reared, furious that Ben wasn't sating his omega's heat, wasn't keeping her safe and protected from this pain.

She wound her hands around the back of his neck and pulled him down towards her knowingly, rising up on her toes and urging his face down into the curved bend of her neck and shoulder.

He followed her lead, bending his head to nose at her gland, letting the tip of his aquiline nose drag along her neck as he breathed long and deep. He could feel himself ease almost at once, the scent of his omega causing a sedate, syrupy calm to twist through him like smoke from an extinguished wick.

She bent to nose at his gland, curling against him like a kitten as she scented him. Ben was happy to relinquish control for the moment as Rey sought out a proper taste of him, the bold omega grasping hungrily at his chest as her teeth grazed his gland, aching to savor the headiness of his skin, to swallow down his scent until she could memorize it, until it became part of hers.

A growl rolled through his chest like thunder, the way her tongue ran over his gland setting his teeth on edge, setting him on fire— so that he soon began to tremble with barely contained want, the hands that had fallen over her hips tightening until they were locked around her, holding her against him, rutting gently against her smooth belly.  

Ben was too far gone to bother with cockiness at the desperate whine that pulled up from the back of her throat as he pulled away from her. He grabbed the cloak he had been pulled free from its clasps around his shoulders and tossed the thick sheepskin mantle down at their feet until it blanketed the wet earth, and he sank to his knees before her, his umber eyes hooded and blown impossibly wide, the brown long ago swallowed by darkened lust.

Rey spread her legs wider for him and he growled, an apodeictic heat present in the way his hands smoothed over her waist, an undeniable urgency to how he spread his fingers along the backs of her bare hips and pulled her close enough to bed his head against her belly. The way his eyes swept over her was animalistic, barbarous, appraising her in a way that sent a wicked thrill of pleasure surging through her, a feeling of virtuous power flooding her at the idea that she had brought this man, this alpha, this prince, to his knees.

His palms were big and strong and warm against her naked skin, rough with the telltale calluses that told of his familiarity with a sword, and it sent shockwaves of pleasure-pain through her belly and down between her legs, her mind flooding with wonder as she imagined what his fingers would feel like on her arse, on her lips, on her cunt.

"Please, alpha." Rey breathed, her voice weak enough to be blown away by the wind. She could barely think, barely breathe, without his hands on her. She felt hunger like she had never felt before, desperate for his touch in any way, in every way, that it felt like she might actually die without it, without him.

"Come." said the Prince of Alderaan, and before Ben had even a moment to prepare she was upon him, crashing down into his body and sending them both tumbling to the forest floor, all grasping limbs and hungry mouths and cold, wet earth.

But he doesn't care about the cold or the rain or the dirt or anything at all, not with her in his arms, her lips besotting his face and neck with hungry, open-mouthed kisses, her eyes leaking big, fat tears that he hurries to kiss away before finally finally finally returning to her mouth.

Rey wriggled under his firm weight, made to roll on her belly and lift herself up on her hands and knees, but Ben stopped her with a hand on the back of her neck, pulling her back up toward him. "I would look upon you, omega." He growled, the rasp in his voice making her quiver, making slick run down the insides of her thighs.

Rey opened her mouth to speak, but the words gave way to a moan as he ran the flat of his burning tongue along the ridge if her gland, sucking greedily so that she could feel a jolt of tingling pleasure ripple through her from head to foot. She could only nod, taking the brunt of his weight down atop of her small frame with impressive resolve. His broad chest and muscled belly pressed flush against hers, the slide of skin on skin making her mouth water as the smell of arousal flowered in the air like fresh spring blossoms.

He bedded his head against the cavern of her breasts, his kiss swollen lips moving over each of her pert nipples as his hands roamed her body, smoothing down over her rounded hips, her shapely thighs, each of her lean, athletic legs.

She gasped as his lips closed around her nipple, her chest jutting unconsciously upward to seek further contact as his tongue swirled across the pert pink flesh, and the alpha was more than happy to oblige her silent request, mouth widening to pull her small breast into his mouth.

Ben wanted to memorise every inch of her, each of the sun spots that stood as a testament to her time in Jakku, each healed over scar from her years scavenging in the deserts, each one of the freckles that spattered over her skin like constellations in the night sky above.

His mouth followed the smooth plaines of her chest and down to her taut stomach, brushing light kisses across her sweet skin and nosing playfully at the thatch of hair between her legs. He could smell her sweat, her skin, her slick, pressing warm kisses across the divot of her waist, the rounded bones of her hips, the curve of her navel.

Rey trembled as he touched his lips to each extended hipbone, thinking that when she became his queen he would feed her ever delicacy, every treat, until the bones no longer protruded. Next came her thighs, twin curves of golden skin and sparse sunspots, tenderly caressed by soft, warm kisses as he made his way toward her inner thighs, the allure of tasting her too sweet to ignore.

He nosed at the thatch of fine hair between her thighs, so agonisingly close to her warm centre that it was all Ben could do not to bury his face between her legs and sup on her sweet, wet cunt until the silent Alderaanian forest came alive with the sound of his name as she screamed it.

“Please alpha!” she whined, high and hungry. Her eyes were blown wide and dark with lust and desperation, her parted lips seeking out the gland on his neck as though magically drawn there by the gods. She found she could barely speak, could barely think, so overcome with want for her alpha that she could think of nothing else. "I need— I need you."

He was so hard he could feel himself leaking, the way his cock pushed at the leather laces of his breeches tipping over the canal from discomfort into pain— and it was as though Rey could read his mind, for soon her fingers had migrated to his laces, hurriedly pushing his breeches down over his bare hips so that they pooled loosely around his thick thighs.

Rey pushed herself up on her elbows to shuck the breeches further down his legs, desperate to feel bare skin on bare skin, until nothing stood between them but words and wind. Her eyes caught on his cock, finally freed from its woolen prison and standing at attention between well muscled thighs, and her eyes glazed, so bright and edacious.

The Prince of Alderaan kneeled between her legs, the words she had opened her mouth to say suddenly giving way to a rapturous moan as he manoeuvred her legs around his hips and pressed his weight down into her.

His hands pressed down on either side of her head as he braced himself above her, caging her in in a way that she had never before thought she would enjoy. Her eyes followed the corded lengths of muscle that rippled across his forearms and chest as he held himself above her, bending at the elbow to nuzzle his nose against hers, playful even now— when his cock was hard as beskar steel and the rut she had triggered was half blinding him.

He lowered a hand between her legs, a dual gasp filling the air as both found the wetness that had gathered there, sweet and alluring as the pool just out of Tantalus' reach. Rey’s hips bucked at his touch, sparks popping just behind the eyes she screwed shut, overcome by the way his rough fingertips grazed over her folds. She gasped in pleasure and surprise and reached for him, carding her fingers through his dark hair, her fingers pulling just hard enough to make him grit out a low, animalistic growl.

His palm worked at the cock that hung thick and heavy between his legs. The sight made Rey’s mouth water, the slick that baptized her thighs growing as she saw the knot at the base of his cock had already begun to swell beneath his rough palm.

Rey met his gaze, dark eyes as desperate as his, as hungry. Ben's hips settle into the cradle of hers as he shifted his weight to rest over her, guiding his cock between the lithe legs that shone with slick and the marks of each warm, open-mouthed kiss he had laid there. Voices rise and meet and break apart in the cold air, moans of pleasure, of ravenous hunger, of relief, his cock slowly slotting into her as though it was made for her.

But then again, she supposed, it was.

She felt so good around him that the alpha could barely breathe, knowing then what he had known since the moment he had come upon her in the clearing, that he wouldn’t be able to last. Not when she gripped him like that, her cunt pulsing around his cock as she writhed and moaned, blunted nails digging into flesh as her arms tightened around his wide shoulders, hips lifting off grass as she silently encouraged he press more deeply into her.

It was a stretch her body had never experienced, a completeness that she had never felt, and as she turned her gaze up to look up at him, it was to find the same relief reflected in his dark eyes.

For all his scent had intoxicated her his cock was only better, so that soon her eyes were rolling back into her head, a half scream pulling from her lips and dissipating in the forest air like fog as his cock sheathed fully into her. The sound seemed to reverberate through the trees like echo against stone, the most erotic music he had ever heard.

Rey tasted so sweet he couldn't resist stealing another searing kiss. He leaning down to ravish her lips with his own, to taste her, to swallow the moans she offered and let his tongue move against hers until she was so breathless and he so lightheaded that there was no choice but to pull away.

He rolled his hips up against hers, knocking the breath from her lungs as he bedded his face against her neck, nosing at her gland and catching the sweat that beaded at the hollow of her throat with harried, hungry kisses.

Her body, intuitive, clever, programmed by nature to read the signals of his body, moved against his as an omega never had, for even though he had lain with other maidens no one had ever been able to read the tightness of his belly, the trembling of his thighs, the clench and pull of the muscles in his back, so that she seemed to know just where to touch him, tease him, taste him.

No one had ever seemed to be able to read him, to know him. But she did.

She always had. From the first time he had seen her in the forest all those years ago, standing opposite him, her fingers trembling as she launched arrows at his shoulders, his back. From the first time she had narrowed her eyes and spat at his feet, calling him names, calling him a monster, glaring at him as though he had struck her. She had seen his future, his present, his past, and she loved him anyway.

He could feel it in the way Rey touched him, caressed him, gentle and sweet— even now, when her heat burned through her so hot that if asked she might not even remember her name. Her long fingers combed through his rain soaked hair, brushing it back from his brow so it ceased to bother, as though somehow she had sensed his discomfort.

Her legs knotted around his hips, his head dropping down to her neck as though drawn there by a force unseen, and he can't resist drawing his lips across the flesh, feeling her gland pulse beneath his tongue. The swollen flesh was already sensitive from from the induced heat, mottled now after being gifted with so many beloved kisses.

"Next time I'll taste you. I'll make you come on my tongue." he moaned. "You taste so good."

The scent was intoxicating, the alpha within rearing at the way it appealed to him, called to him, begged that he claim her and take her scent into his own so that it would mark him forever. It was like summer rain on fresh trimmed grass, smokey autumn wind and cold spring water, like the fresh flowers his grandfathered had always gathered in the drawing room of the palace for his grandmother after each bloom.

"Sweet girl. Sweet omega." He breathed, lapping at her throat, her head turning away from him to offer better access to the nose that brushed against the underside of her jaw. "You're mine, aren't you? I'm gonna make you mine. Would you like that?"

She let out a guttural moan as he head of his cock struck something within her that made her back arch like a drawn bow. "I am." Rey promised, and it was only after she cried his name several more times that he realised she was no longer calling him Ben. "I already am."

Ben looked a tenuous mix of wrecked and beautiful, the moonlight that dripped down from above illuminating the shadows of his skin, emphasizing the muscle that flexed beneath his pale skin like waves over still water. Her blunted nails left long red scratches down his back and he hoped they left marks, hoped he could see them in the morning, hoped they scarred and he could look over his shoulder at them for the rest of his days.

"I know, love." he promised, affection and lust colouring his words like the redness that filled his cheeks. She could feel the way his thighs flexed with the force of the pleasure. "You're being so good for me. Such a good omega. Perfect." He could feel the way her cunt clenched around him at that, making him gasp out a curse, eyelids fluttering. "I'll take care of you, Rey. I promise. I always take care of whats mine."

She moaned loud as a crack of thunder, the forest once more coming alive with the sound of an omega in rapture, the sounds that proved the hunt was once more a success, as it had been when he was a child all those years ago.

He pressed a hand down on her belly so that he could feel the way his cock drove in and out of her. Sparks formed and burst and fizzled behind her eyes, her mind pressed so full of alpha and knot and yours that every other thought seemed to slip right away and before she could even speak.

Her hips jerk upwards as her peak washed over her, and in the throes of pleasure her cunt had gone were tight as a closed fist around his cock, her body quivering through the aftershocks of such overcoming pleasure, and he tipped her hips back and pushed them down to be able to keep her from jumping off the ground, the large hand he spread over her hips making her seem so small beneath him, so fragile.

The sounds of her moan screamed across the quiet clearing like a stone skimming across still water and it had the alpha grinning as his ego inflated, hoping in the back of his mind that they could all hear the writhing omega, that all of Alderaan knew she was his.

He was so close to his climax that he could practically taste the pleasure on his tongue, especially at the way her tongue had chosen to move teasingly over his gland, her mouths half muffled by the way she buried her face between his neck and shoulder.

Ben could feel her her lips parting at the side of his neck, where they had taken to sucking at the puffy skin of his gland, and the alpha knows at once what was happening, knows that the overstimulation of pleasure in heat has flooded her mind with the need to take him as he's taking her, to claim him as her alpha forever.

“No.” He managed at the last second, the rhythms of his hips stuttering.

Rey pulled away. For a moment she looked as though he had reeled back and struck her suddenly, the look of shock and hurt that crossed her face making his heart sink into the pit of his belly, the alpha in his chest roaring in rage.

“Omega—“ he called, letting his alpha influence seep into his voice, and caught her hands as she made to pull away. His cock throbbed, screaming that he move, that he come inside of his omega, but the hurt on her face had gutted him.

“I want to do it right." he said, the set to her dark brows shifting as she listened. "I want you to be my mate, my empress. I want you at my side, to rule Alderaan with me, to be my mate for as long as we both walk this earth. It has to...” He swallowed hard, hoping that the earnestness he felt showed on his face. “When I claim you it has to be part of the ceremony to make it official. It’s the tradition of the royal family. My mother and my grandmother and my great-grandmother...I want you to be mine, the proper way."

Her hands slid over his broad shoulders as she dropped her legs from around his hips, a hand of ice gripping his heart as she pulled back. He knew his eyes were glassy, watching as she extricated herself from his grip and pulled away, but he said nothing. His cock twitched absently, the alpha within languishing in the last few moments of knowing the pure bliss of being inside her, knowing that he’d never again know the feeling of such a perfect fit.

It was her choice, though it broke his heart, to decide which alpha she wanted to be hers.  

Rey pressed her palms flat on his chest and pushed gently, urging him backward and Ben did as he was told, inching off her until he sat flat on the cloak — but to his surprise the omega in hid lap didn’t ease off of him as he had anticipated.

Instead her grip around his neck and shoulders only tightened as she moved, maneuvering herself in a way that kept his cock from slipping out of her, and in that moment both Ben and alpha were so relieved to still be in her favour that they were more than happy to let control.

"Alpha..." she breathed, so soft that he nearly missed it. She let her legs fall open on either side of his lap, stretched wide by the thickness of his thighs, and as she settled onto his lap his knot throbbed at the tightness of her cunt as they shifted.

Rey pushed at his shoulders until Ben eased down onto his back, his hands automatically lifting to her hips as she wobbled uncertainly, and he stroked the soft skin there with his fingers. He basked in the heat of her skin and the smile she shone down at him, her skin scorching hot to the touch— hotter still as he dipped his head to nuzzle against her breast, inhaling her scent as though it were the only thing tethering him to this earth. His Rey of light, bright as the sun and just as warm.

Her chest was flushed pink all the way down to her nipples, a perfect parallel to the sweet soft pink of her cheeks, and she hissed gently as he claimed one between his fingers, rolling the sensitive bud between his thumb and forefinger.

Rey nuzzled her cheek against his hair as he bedded his face against her breast, Ben watching through hooded eyes as she threw back her head and moaned in pleasure at the way he suckled at her breast. Her hips undulated urgently against his as she whined, high and needy, the sound of an omega in need drawing his attention back to her, between between her legs. He could see where his cock disappeared into her, and Ben, overcome at the sight, could only nod at her urgency, could only slide an arm around her waist and bring her back to him.

He pressed his open mouth to her gland and sucked with an exigence he had never felt before, the way Rey cried out, loud and bright and full of pleasure, making the patter of rain and the howl of wind seem like a whisper in comparison.

"You smell so good, omega." He groaned, cupping her breast in his palm and letting his thumb run over the pebbled ridge of her nipple. "You taste good, you feel good. Gods, I've never felt anything so good."

She moaned at the praise, the sound half muffled by the way she buried her face into his shoulder, her teeth nipping just hard enough at his collarbones to mark the skin with a trail of pink bruises. He rolled his hips up into her, feeling his cock slide between her folds as she arched her back, her body so smooth and soft against his that it was all he could do not to knot in her right then and there.  

His palm slid between them to press down on the bottom of her belly, making her choke out a gasp as they both felt the pressure of his cock driving in and out of her, hitting a spot within her that her fingers had never reached.

Ben stretched up to capture her lips, unable to resist kissing her again, to claim those kiss swollen lips and leet her tongue sweep across his mouth in a desperate search for a way to sate her hunger. He had seen her this way before, with her dark eyes wild with barely masked fire and her brow set and firm, an aura of unfettered passion surrounding her. He had thought her passionate then, when the cool blue-tinged steel of her sword had been pressed to his throat, its steel singing as it sliced through the flesh of his cheek and brow— but it was nothing compared to now.

She was so beautiful, wrapped up in his arms like that. Her small hands braced on his shoulders as she rode him like he were a prized stallion and she a practiced rider, her thighs gripping him so tight he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be locked between them. Her head was thrown back so that her dark hair could sweep over her bare back like braided strands of satin, falling through the fingers he combed gently through it, and her cheeks were alight with a pink flush that curled down her neck and over her bare chest as she moved against him in the throes of heat and longing and aphrodisia.

"You're so good, Rey. You feel so good omega. I could stay like this forever. Sweetheart, I could live like this." Rey preened at the words, omega and woman both caught in the rapture of his praise.

He could feel his knot swelling almost to full size as she ground her hips down into his, bracing her palms on his firm chest so that she could widen her legs and take more of him. His palm is big enough to cover the entirety of her mound, slipping between her warm thighs to reach toward the part of her he had so long ached to touch, to taste, to know as carnally, as somatically, as he knew the rest of her. His callused fingers moved through her folds, coating themselves in her unabashed wetness, obeying her need as she silently rolled her hips into his palm.

"A-alpha..." she moaned, feeling sparks of white hot pleasure jump through her like a spark across the jagged stone of a flint, like embers of a roaring fire crackling into the night sky.

The forest air was thick with sticky heat. It was as though her blood had been set aflame, as though not even the chill of a torrential downpour could cool her properly. Rey couldn't think of anything but how he felt inside of her, her mind washed free of everything except the way his cock moved in and out of her, the way his fingers circled her crest as though he were reading her mind, as though he knew just how she had touched herself, to the thought of him, the thought of this.

“Come, sweet girl.” Ben cooed.

His hand moved between her legs with practiced ease, the corners of his mouths quirking as he thought that this was the first time he had been able to touch her like this, to make her moan like this. It would be the first of hundreds, of thousands— for if Ben had his way he'd never spend another not slotted between her thighs, not touching her, not making her come on his cock and on his fingers and on his tongue.

“Come on, little one.” he grated, his voice so deep that it made gooseflesh run down her arms. He was unable to tear his eyes from her, her body laid before him clad in nothing but the cool water that dangled from her fingertips and eyelashes and nipples like teardrop diamonds. “I want to feel you come on my cock, omega. I want to feel you come on my cock like I’ve been dreaming of since that first time I saw you.”

As though to punctuate his point he jerked his hips harder than ever, making a scream pull from her lips before she could mask it. His hips had changed their rhythm, his arm snaking around her back and crushing her to him.

“You feel so—“ Rey moaned. Her voice was broken, a mix of breathily high and comically low that would have made her laugh in any other scenario.  

Her muscles ached with the way they stretched as they never had before, with the way her back arched and her hips writhed and stuttered, with the way her core pulses, her body electric with the need for relief that only her alpha can give her.  

She felt so full, so unbelievably, undeniably, unforgettably full, and despite knowing that she would feel the pain of his enthusiasm in the morrow Rey found she couldn't bring herself to care in the slightest. Not when his cock pulled tantalizingly out of her before slamming back in, not when his lips were at her gland and his hot tongue was running over the bare skin there.

“Don't be afraid." he began, teeth gritted as he watched his cock disappear into her, giving another deep thrust that hit hard enough to make him choke as he attempted to speak. “I feel it too.”

Rey stifled another loud scream, breathing shakily, the way his nostrils flared making her wonder what she smelled like now, if she smelled like an omega well pleased. His dark eyes reflected the images of a thousand words that swam tirelessly through them, all the words he wanted to say but found he couldn’t, all the words that had been pushed aside to make way for the moans and sighs that filled the air around them.

“Are you ready for me?” he asked, his thick fingers circling over the nerves at the crest of her folds. The rain fell hard over his back like a hundred dulled pinpricks, the way her nails dug into his bare shoulders making his hips shake. "Are you ready for my knot, omega?"

“Yes alpha.” she keened. Her skin felt tight, itchy, her cheeks so hot they could melt butter as well as warm bread. She arched her back, her chest pushed out toward awaiting lips and Ben was only too pleased to graze each breast with his teeth, nipping just hard enough to tip over from pain into pleasure. “I want all of you, Ben.”

The words make him utter an almost helpless moan, a deep, rumbling purr that's born at the base of his chest and reverberates through his body like a live wife, making her cunt clench around him.

Rey could feel the familiar pleasure of her peak begin to run its course through her body, a liquid heat that tickled at her spine and surged into her belly. She was filled with an almost blinding pleasure as he nosed at her neck, his tongue lapping at her gland while somehow still managing to whisper utterly filthy things against the shell of her ear, both his words and the low, thunderous tremble at which he spoke them doing wonders to increase her pleasure.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this." he grunted, crowding up into her space. He was so close to his climax that he could practically taste the relief on his tongue, the way his knot throbbed and tightened as foreign to him as it was to the omega that squirmed beneath him. "You're doing so good, omega. You're perfect, so perfect for me."

"Please, alpha." she begged, crying out in both pleasure and agony. "Please give me your knot. Alpha, please."

The hand not wrapped around his shoulder rose to his face, her soft fingertips moving over the line of his jaw, the curve of his cheeks, the pad of his lips, watching him through half-lidded eyes, her lust-darkened irises sweeping over his face as though she were studying him, mapping him, memorising him.

He rose up to nose at her hair, pressing kisses there that left her toes curling and her fingers grasping at his wide shoulders, pulling him closer closer closer. His lips found her gland again, closing over the swollen skin in a tight seal, his tongue lapping at her like she his first taste of water after years of desert heat, and he had barely began to taste it properly when she felt her pleasure burst forth.  

Pleasure exploded in front of her like a physical proxy, all heat and tightness and blind pleasure, and she was nearly bowled over by the sensation, by the way he didn’t let up on her, not even for a second, the push and pull of his cock, the gentle jerk of his fingers, the lazy drag of tongue on teeth and soft lips.

His pleasure crested as hers did, his knot anchoring them together as he filled her with wave after wave of hot spend, finally finally finally cooling the burning heat that curled through her body like sparks of fire catching on dry brush.

She screamed his name loud enough to pierce the silence of the forest like a clap of thunder, and it pleased him to to end know that in that moment, even in the midst of her heat, even as she met her orgasm headlong and unflinchingly, that she was thinking of him. Not his alpha, not his cock, not his seed or his gland or his bite. Just him.

Ben held her tight to him, roaring with his release, the alpha inside him banging its chest and rearing its head and shouting in pleasure as he finally achieved what he had so long wanted. His hips slowed as his come flooded her waiting body, wanting to fill her up as he had wanted to for weeks and weeks and weeks, and his lips found hers again. He claimed her lips once more, kissing her long and deep and slow, somehow completely at odds with the way she still stretched around his knot, with the way his cock continued to flood her with his spend.

She sank down on top of him, her legs falling on either side of his hips weakly, suddenly too exhausted to even lift herself any longer. Instead she settled against his chest, her ear pressed to the cavern of his broad chest, listening to the staccato beat of his tired heart and the kind words whispered against the shell of her ear.

"You did so well, omega." he crooned, instinct once more taking over to soothe his sated omega, feeling her sink into his arms.

The words fulfilled some goal within her she had never before thought of, her omega proud and preening within, pleased at the way she had made her alpha so happy. He brushed the hair from her face as he kissed her temple, telling her how good she felt, how much he had missed her, how glad he was to be hers.

He brushed the hair from her face, kissing her bare shoulder and letting his hand sweep lazily up and down her back, tracing shapes with his fingers that made gooseflesh pepper her skin. Ben wrapped his arms around her back, gently pulling her to lay across him, ever mindful of the knot that locked them together, and even as his cock continued to pulse and throb inside of her, completely sated, he could feel himself stir just ever so slightly as he looked between them and found his knot standing firm and heavy, slotted perfectly between here legs.

"I love you." he said quietly, pulling her dark hair through his fingers absently. The words were uttered softly, casually, freely, but there was an irresolute firmness hiding behind the words that proved their significance was not to be taken lightly.

Rey beamed at him, bringing her lips to the healing scar on his cheek and kissing it tenderly. He wanted to count her freckles, to spend the rest of his life memorising every inch of her face and her body and her mind, until he could recall every wonderful detail about her even in sleep, even in death.

She settled back into her place on his chest, her fingertips tracing absently around the curled tail of his scar, and when she spoke it carried an direct unreservedness that made the simple words come alive, made clear their meaning to Ben, even if she hadn't directly said the words. "I know."

[smolpunkblog]

2020/feb/23

I was planning on going my second date with C, instead of dreading the experience, I was shaking with excitement. 

I’ve never felt so excited to see somebody before, and I didn't feel a shred of doubt or anxiety. He was coming around 3, because he had prior commitments. I spent the morning doing my regular chores, before dollin up myself. 

when 3 rolled around, I told him to park into my houses driveway, because my folks weren't home. Currently I want to keep me seeing him a secret- I dont want my parents being unreasonably strict about me being over at a boys house. He came into my house, and funny enough, he spent the next 5 minutes wooing over my dog.

After that, he went to the washroom before finally greeting me with a big grin and bear hug. We both left shortly after, heading to a nearby harbour, we both never have heard or been to it before. We talked a lot or just listened to his Spotify playlist on shuffle. Once we’ve arrived, a lot of the establishment was being forced under construction. 

It wasn't too cold today, but it was windy. Thankfully this time I remembered to bring a pair of gloves. We walked around the deserted harbour and condos in circles while holding hands. Our plan was to go through some trails, but we couldn't find them in sight. We eventually decided to give up and use my phone for clues, while I had my phone pulled out and I leaned to look, he leaned against me, letting our foreheads kiss. 

We eventually found the trail hidden near the entrance, we spent the next couple of hours walking along the trails. Looking back at it, a lot of our conversations dragged along, or we sat in moments of silence. I didn't hate any of it, it just felt like lovely moments enjoying the brisk trail. We eventually realized we were practically lost, the signs never ended up linking to each other, so we eventually cheated out of the forest, running down the hill onto the street. Once we got back into his car, we were starving.

We headed to his favourite burger place, which was ironic considering last date we had burgers too. There I froze with anxiety at ordering, and decided to copy him, he paid. As we ate, it was some awkward silence, sometimes moments like this make me want to beat myself up. I hate it when I cant think of anything. After we ate we sat in his car.

He looked at me with panic, and confessed that he just received a message from a friend that their roommate came positive. And the he was in recent contact with them (not the positive roommate). I could tell he was panicking, but in all honesty, I didn't feel a shred of fear. He described to me how he wasn't in contact with their roommate, and his friends haven't been in contact either. I asked him what he wanted to do, did he want me to go home better, which he replied to no, he wanted me to come over to his. We ended up having a long, reassuring hug. (im sorry if you read this and get upset, you are valid in your anger. It was a selfish decision)

We ended up at his house, I wasn't sure what I was expecting it to be, but the reality settled that im at his house. It also feels weird going into someones house for the first time. He looked at me, and told me that if we go to the front ill be forced to confront his parents- I said that was okay. Usually im not up for meeting new people, but I really wanted to push myself. I went to the front and surely enough his mom was right there. She was pretty. I immediately say hello, and thank her for having me over, he is quick to introduce me. His dad comes in the room shortly, scurring down to the basement (C room) to grab laundry. The family cat follows behind, enticing both me and C into awes. 

After the awkward hellos, I head down into the basement with C. I end up sitting with C at the dining table in the corner of the room. There he leans on me as I look through his Pokemon card collection he laid out for me. He slowly wrapped both of his arms around my arm, it didn't feel too comfortable. I slowly nudged his arm, and guided it to my hips, 

he softly whispers ‘oooh? is this allowed’

I nodded in embarrassment, and then his grasp became more firm.

After looking through his card collection, we both end up behind his couch looking at his bookshelf. He was retelling the books that he's read, while wrapping both arms around me. We ended up shuffling to see his movie collections, this time one of my arms wrapped around his neck. 

After the long time of his rambling (good rambling, im just too nervous to talk). We end up sitting on his bed, the room was open concept so everything was near each other. There he had a pile of clean laundry, we end up folding it together (sock duty). After that, we slowly end up cuddling on his bed, ive never cuddled with someone before. It was very comforting, sweet, and made me incredibly sleepy. A bit awkward because I didn't know what to do with my hands.

After I shifted over to him, because I knew id pass out

he softly wooed ‘ooooh you're turning to me huh?’

I nodded, and we ended up hugging, before he whispered 

‘can I finally kiss you?’

I said yes, and we kiss. I thought it'd be a lot more soft, but he was more passionate than that. Ive never kissed someone seriously before, it was always half asses or just uncomfortable, so these types of kisses were new to me. It felt wet, deep, and fast. I tried my best keeping up with his motions. At one point his hand touches my ass before he asks 

‘am I allowed to touch your butt?’

I said yes, and he eventually continued to fondle my butt lightly. We break from kissing to staring into eachothers eyes, I cant keep the eye contact for long before breaking in embarrassment. I laugh and he hugs my closely, kissing my cheek lightly. 

I keep shuffling around, readjusting my body, in the process his hand sneaks its way under my shirt. 

He quickly yanked his hand away after touching the skin of my back, ‘am I allowed to touch you under your shirt?’

‘No, that's too far’ I said quietly, he nodded and apologized. I wasn't upset with him, because the moment I felt his hand on my skin, I wanted to do more than innocently kissing. 

And that's a bit too intense for a virgin on her second ever date. 

I lean down to him and we get back to kissing, in the moment while trying to grab my waist his hand lands on my boob, 

he yanked it away before apologizing and asking if it was okay (I know he's sly and sneaky)

I said it was okay, after all it was over my bra and shirt. 

He eventually is ontop of me, our legs are intertwined, he has one of his hands glued to my ass. The other is groping my boob while he kisses and stares at me. During this I feel my legs twitching in excitement, and my hips shaking in desperation. He even giggled, and I probed him on it in the moment

he confessed with a bit of a sharp breath, ‘your tits looked amazing on our last date’ 

I was getting pretty turned on. and realizing this, I told him to stop touching my boob. He looked pretty concerned, before I admitted

‘when you touch my boob like that, its really turning me on’ 

He ended up having a shit eating grin, before kissing my cheek all over. I ended up ontop now, leaning down and kissing him lightly before whispering, ‘lets go watch anime now’.

When I got up, I went to the washroom. Lets just say- when I wipped, the toilet paper came out drenched. 

We soon after sat and cuddled while we watched an anime episode, he did end up reciting the turned on thing. I nudged him for that.

I had to head home soon after, because going back at 10 was a bit too much for my mom, even if I did tell her it was my friends. On the drive back it was quiet but peaceful.

He parked a bit away from my house, and we hugged a lot. We planned on meeting each other again after he gets his test results back. 

We then kisses a couple times more before I headed back home. 

I then spent the rest of the night fan grilling to my friends. 

[missharasser]

My cat is not getting better

Hi, it's happening again. What I thought would be something I could forget about is happening yet again, my other cat is sick and with the same disease as the one that died early this year. I was confused as to why he got sick since I care for them a lot, but the vet told me that FLUTD is really common in males. So here I am, once again asking for help. I truly didn't want to do this since I didn't want to come across as someone who always asks for money, but at this point I don't know what else to do, I've been selling my stuff and doing jobs for people but it is not enough.

His name is Castiel, he's two years old and this past two weeks have been a nightmare, I first realized my cat was sick last week on Monday when I arrived home and noticed he couldn't pee at all, he didn't want to eat nor drink and he didn't have the strength to get on the bed. I took him to the vet immediately and they diagnosed him with FLUTD (Feline lower urinary tract disease).

The vet told me they couldn't use the urinary catheter since they didn't know just how big the crystals and sediment in his bladder were, so they appointed me for an urinalysis and an ultrasound. The next day I went to the appointment and they told me they were now sure he had FLUTD, and that he needed to change his diet and that only with antibiotics and a few shots he would be alright.

Sadly that was not the case. One day passed and I went to the vet to get his medicine but he looked weak and still wasn't eating. I was feeding him with re-hydration solutions and some vitamin gel but it wasn't enough. I couldn't give him too much solution either or his bladder would be damaged since he still couldn't pee. They told that if he looked worse that night that I should bring him fast and not wait for tomorrow. That afternoon I spent every ten minutes checking his vitals and making sure his bladder wasn't hard. Sadly at 7pm his pulse dropped and he wasn't breathing as fast so I took him to the vet, they told me he was getting cold and that he was at a risk of hypothermia. He had to be hospitalized that night.

The next day I went to check up on him and he looked really bad and that's when they told me that he indeed had hypothermia and that it had been really difficult to manage also that a surgery was needed. The urethral obstruction (a blockage in the urethra, which is the tube that carries urine from the bladder and out of the body) got worse and while he had started to pee it hurt him so bad since the clumps were bigger than his urethra.

I told them I didn't have any money left and that I would try to gather enough to pay, but business is business and they told me they could only perform the surgery if I paid. That day I sold my graphic tablet, some glasses and did paid homework. I managed to gather enough money and told them they could start the surgery.

That was last Friday. After that he had to stay hospitalized throughout the weekend. On Saturday I went to check up on him. He looked sick and skinny, still a little weak after surgery and he had an IV since he was dehydrated. They told me that if it went well I could pick him up on Monday.

On Monday he looked way better, still a little disoriented but better. They gave him his medicine and told me that I had to come back again so they could check up on him and give him the rest of the medicine. I took him home and he looked so happy to be here. He was rubbing himself on my legs and my hands while I was sitting with him. The next two days were uneventful, he started to eat, pee and was even meowing. On Wednesday I was told that everything was ok and that I only had to come back in 15 days.

Last night was when all went downhill. He refused to eat and he didn't want to drink anymore. At 2am he puked all over the floor and started shaking a little bit. I was worried but I had to wait until morning to take him to the vet.

His ears and paws started to feel cold so I heated some water bottles and wrapped him up in a blanket and hugged him the rest of the night. Today he wasn't as cold as before but not as warm as he should be. I took him to the vet and they said that he had kind of a water bag in the stomach area and that he would need to have surgery performed again to see what's going on. They're worried that that liquid they feel is pee since it could be mortal. He was dehydrated again since he didn't want to drink anything.

They said that since I have been paying on time for the last week that they could wait this time, they will perform that surgery today and I have a week to pay all the bills that are needed during and after surgery.

Up till now I have spent more than $350 (appointments, ultrasound, medicine, shots, hospitalization, surgery, special dry and wet food, transport, etc) and it may sound like it’s not much but in Mexico it is expensive (almost $7000 pesos). I don't know how to make more money. As some of you know I'm a college student and money is not something I have in abundance. I managed to pay all the bills from last week, but it will probably be the same amount now since he will need new pain meds and noninflammatory, also antibiotics and the days he would have to stay hospitalized.

I love my cat. He has helped me a lot with my depression and I truly don't know what I would do without him. The worst thing is that everytime I think of him I'm reminded that my last cat had the same illness and the he couldn't survive. I'm so anxious right now I just want him to be okay. 

If any of you could help I would be really really grateful. If not, it doesn't matter, just good wishes is enough. I'm still selling some stuff I have and doing some jobs when I find the time, but finals are coming and I'm worried I won't have enough time to study and care for my baby.

https://www.paypal.me/letipimhe

I'm sorry for the long post, but I’m desperate and even if I just get some cents I don't care. Anything helps. If you can’t donate please share, I’ll be really grateful. Also if you’d like to see the receipts so you know I’m not lying just tell me.

[freddiesaysalright]

My Man Part IX

A Ben!Roger Taylor x Reader Fic

Summary: Reader is a Broadway actress currently starring in a West End production of Funny Girl. She’s a widow, thanks to the Vietnam War, but it’s a well-kept secret. She also wants everyone to think she doesn’t care for rock music. She met Roger Taylor when he brought his date backstage. They didn’t start off great, but a party at Freddie’s turned them around. Now, they’re friends. After she was attacked by a director, Roger is there for her. Then she gets a surprise visitor with some wise words for her. Her brother and her director drop some bombs on her. After getting a role in a new show in order to stay in London, she gets closure after her attack and is ready to take a big step with Rog.

Word Count: 1.5K (sorry it’s a short one!)

A/N: SMUT! My first time writing it so like...idk if it’s any good but I hope you enjoy! The important part is at the end. 

Tag List:  @bohemian-war @kittygirlno @rebelrebelyourefaceisamess @rockyroadthepastryarchy, @goodoldfashionedloverboyy, @jennyggggrrr, @discodeacygotmorerhythm, @x1975sos, @slytherinxval, @cyndagoaway, @doingalrightt, @lovvliies, @hopefully-aesthetically-pleasing, @capsparrowtara @they-call-me-peaches, @hyosong, @riddikuluslypotter, @orchideax, @shishterfackisback Let me know if you’d like to be added!

Part I  Part II  Part III  Part IV  

Part V  Part VI  Part VII  Part VIII

Part IX let’s go!!!

When you got back to your flat, Roger kissed you hard as soon as the door clicked shut. You gasped in surprise, but his lips swallowed it. You buried your fingers in his hair and pulled him impossibly closer to you. You quickly became a mess of hot breath, wet lips, and quick touches of skin. Roger pulled back and looked intently at you.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he said.

You felt yourself flush at the words as the heat began to build in your tummy. You grabbed his shirt and pulled him back, eager for contact. You felt his hardness against your leg and you had to bite back a sigh.

“I want you,” you replied. “Now.”

“You sure you’re ready?” he wondered, cradling your face in his hands. “I don’t want to frighten you.”

You nodded eagerly. “You could never frighten me, Roger Taylor. I trust you.”

You did. With your life, with your body, and with your heart.

He wasted no time in returning his lips to yours, and he pushed you up against the wall. He swiped his tongue across your lower lip for permission to enter. You opened your mouth to grant it, and at the same time, he ground his hips into yours from his spot between your legs. You groaned into his mouth.

When he needed air, he pulled back but moved to your neck, leaving a tail of soft kisses and gentle nips until he found a spot by your ear that made you gasp and shiver. You were so sensitive since it had been so long. You could already feel your underwear getting soaked. You were sure Roger could feel it too against his leg but you didn’t care. You figured he enjoyed it. Desperate for more, you took his hand and placed it on your breast.

He chuckled against your throat and whispered, “Someone’s needy.”

“Shut up,” you breathed back.

You reached for the buttons on his shirt and began undoing them, slowly because Roger’s hands and lips were such a distraction. You pushed it over his shoulders and onto the floor, and then took a moment to admire his body. He smirked as your pupils dilated with lust. It wasn’t an expression he’d ever seen on you before and he liked that he created it. He started to give your blouse the same treatment, but he was taking the buttons at a glacial pace in your opinion.

“Oh, fuck the buttons,” you huffed and reached down to pull the thing over your head and toss it to join Roger’s. Your bra followed right after.

Roger sighed at the picture of you, panting and ready for him. But he only waited a moment before taking a hardened nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. You moaned and latched on to his hair again. He took your other breast in his hand and kneaded it gently and you felt like electricity was coming from his palms.

“Fucking perfect tits,” he said as his lips grazed the skin in the valley between your breasts. “So beautiful.”

“Roger,” you sighed in return. “Bedroom.”

Without hesitation, he grabbed you by the ass and carried you, laughing, into your bedroom. When he lay you down, you took hold of his belt to try and unbuckle it, but he stopped you. You shot him a confused glance.

“Let me treat you,” he said. “It’s been a while for you and I want you to be ready for me.”

You pouted a little and he groaned.

“You can jerk me off another time,” he said.

You shook your head. “That wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“Fuck,” he said and swallowed thickly. “You’re a naughty little thing. But still, another time. Tonight’s for you.”

You laid back down and allowed him to continue. He found the zipper on the side of your skirt and pulled it down. You lifted your hips so he could yank the skirt down you legs and chuck it to the side. You made quick work of your panties, to his immense pleasure. He let his hands glide over your thighs and you writhed beneath him, impatient.

“Shh,” he said. “I’m gonna take care of you, baby girl, just enjoy it.”

You couldn’t help but wriggle again. You were aching for him, and you could see his own arousal in his jeans. It had to be driving him just as crazy and you wondered how he was controlling himself. He pressed his lips to your lower thigh, and made his way slowly up the inside of it. He skipped over where you needed him most, but he did blow a little air over it, which caused you to dig your heels into the mattress.

“Roger,” you whined and you heard him chuckle.

“God, I love it when you say my name,” he replied.

“Roger, please!”

He sank a finger into you and you groaned with relief. His thumb found your clit and rubbed soft circles on it as his finger teased your g-spot. Your breath caught in your throat and you clung desperately to his arms.

“So good for me,” he said as he watched you jerk beneath him. “So fucking beautiful.”

You couldn’t form words. The coil in your belly tightened as he continued his ministrations. You bucked your hips for more friction, and then Roger held them down. You whined a little in protest, but fuck it felt good. You felt yourself pulsing around him.

“You gonna cum, baby girl?” he asked, growling in your ear. “Gonna cum around my fingers?”

You could only nod before it happened. You came completely undone and cried out his name once again as you rode out your orgasm on his hand.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praised, kissing you again as he pulled his fingers out. “You want my mouth?”

“No,” you panted. “No, Roger, I need you inside me. Just fuck me, please.”

He smirked, which you ignored and you once again went for his pants. He beat you to his belt, but you cupped him through his jeans. He groaned at the feeling. You let go to let him finish undressing. You admired his body again as he did so. His cock sprung out and you bit your lip with anticipation.

“C’mere, baby girl,” he whispered and he kissed you again.

He slid inside you. You both moaned as you connected and he filled you up. When he bottomed out inside you, he held still for a moment so you could adjust. He fit so well and you felt incredibly sexy.

“Move, baby,” you said.

He obeyed, starting with a slow, even pace. He pulled almost completely out before thrusting back in. You picked up his rhythm and bucked to match him, coming together at your hips. One of his hands grabbed a breast while the other found your clit again and you wondered if you could last with him touching you that way. You moaned again, and wrapped your arms around his neck. He twitched inside you as you built up speed, and every snap of his hips reminded you what you were a part of: us, us, us, us.

You found yourself out of breath as your second climax arose. Your hands raked down his back as you held on tight. You heard a rumble in his chest as he pressed on, and his finger started making hard and fast circles on your clit. He was as close as you were.

“Want - ” he began but had to moan. “Want you to cum first.”

“I’m there, Rog,” you whined. “Nearly there.”

With a little more pressure, you released again, pulsing around his cock. Your finish sent him over the edge and you felt him let go inside you. Your chest heaved as you came down, breathless and trembling. He kissed you all over your face - your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, your cheeks. Then he just held you close, resting his forehead against yours as you both began to relax. When both your breathing evened out, he rolled over to lie next to you.

You rested your head on his chest and looked up at him. “Roger Taylor, I want you to know that as of now there is no one in the world who has a higher opinion of you than I do.”

He laughed wholeheartedly and cupped your face in his hands. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” you returned.

“Really,” he said, sitting up on his elbow so he could look at you. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

You pressed your lips to his chest. “I really love you too, Roger. So much.”

You couldn’t match his sentiment about more than anyone else. You had loved George just as much. Roger was different, though.

“Y/N,” he said, taking you out of your thoughts. “I meant what I said before. I want you to move here permanently.”

You sighed. “That’s a really big thing to do,” you reminded him. “I don’t know if I can commit to something like that for a boyfriend.”

“What if I wasn’t your boyfriend?” he asked.

“Are you gonna break up with me?” you wondered, frowning.

“No,” he chuckled. “I mean...what if I was your husband?”

You felt your heart skip a beat.

“What?”

“Y/N, let’s get married.”