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ritchiepage2001newaccount · 2 years ago

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#CorpMedia #Idiocracy #Oligarchs #MegaBanks vs #Union #Occupy #NoDAPL #BLM #SDF #DACA #MeToo #Humanity #DemExit #FeelTheBern

The International Community Cannot Turn Its Back on the People of Afrin [UPDATES]

https://armenianweekly.com/2018/02/02/international-community-cannot-turn-back-people-afrin/

On Jan. 20, the Turkish state began conducting air raids in the Afrin Canton in Syria—an enclave near the Turkish border that is home to over a million people. By the next day, the Turkish armed forces had launched a ground invasion with tanks and mercenaries, while Islamic jihadists on the ground aided Turkey’s air strikes...

RELATED UPDATE: What is Turkey's strategy in Iraq, Syria?

https://www.dw.com/en/the-turkish-army-in-iraq-an-occupation-force/a-62600962

RELATED UPDATE: Turkey’s Dirty War Rages in Kurdistan

https://www.leftvoice.org/turkeys-dirty-war-rages-in-kurdistan/

RELATED UPDATE: Thousands of people celebrate 15 August in Northern and Eastern Syria

https://anfenglish.com/rojava-syria/thousands-of-people-celebrate-15-august-in-northern-and-eastern-syria-61885

RELATED UPDATE: "Our goal is to liberate Idlib and Afrin"

https://anfenglish.com/news/our-goal-is-to-liberate-idlib-and-afrin-62037

RELATED UPDATE: Tevgera Azadî Executive Board says KDP wants to start civil war among Kurds

https://anfenglish.com/news/tevgera-azadi-executive-board-says-kdp-wants-to-start-civil-war-among-kurds-62346

RELATED UPDATE: Kurdish revolution teaches us to be wary of Western solidarity on Ukraine

https://www.thecanary.co/opinion/2022/09/16/kurdish-revolution-teaches-us-to-be-wary-of-western-solidarity-on-ukraine/

RELATED UPDATE: HRE fighter Zinar Efrîn succumbs to heart attack

https://anfenglish.com/rojava-syria/hre-fighter-zinar-efrin-succumbs-to-heart-attack-62855

RELATED UPDATE: HRE announces the death of two fighters in a skirmish in Afrin

https://anfenglish.com/rojava-syria/hre-announces-the-death-of-two-fighters-in-a-skirmish-in-afrin-62953

RELATED UPDATE: Iran intensifies crackdown on Kurdish areas as protests rage

https://www.reuters.com/world/middle-east/seven-killed-unrest-irans-kurdish-region-rights-group-says-2022-10-13/

RELATED UPDATE: ‘They tried to wipe us out’: Kurds shelled as Iran seeks scapegoats for unrest

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2022/oct/15/kurds-shelled-iran-scapegoats-unrest

RELATED UPDATE: Swêd: We have a major war ahead of us

https://anfenglishmobile.com/kurdistan/swed-we-have-a-major-war-ahead-of-us-63354

RELATED UPDATE: Journalist Eren: The way out of this darkness is solidarity

https://anfenglishmobile.com/freedom-of-the-press/journalist-eren-the-way-out-of-this-darkness-is-solidarity-63372

RELATED UPDATE: PYD marks World Kobanê Day, calls for renewed support for North-East Syria

https://anfenglishmobile.com/rojava-syria/pyd-marks-world-kobane-day-calls-for-renewed-support-for-north-east-syria-63379

RELATED UPDATE: K Star calls on the peoples to adopt Rojava revolution in the spirit of International Day of solidarity with Kobani Resistance

https://www.hawarnews.com/en/haber/k-star-calls-on-the-peoples-to-adopt-rojava-revolution-in-the-spirit-of-international-day-of-solidarity-with-kobani-resistance-h33493.html

RELATED UPDATE: Kongra Star calls for struggle in the spirit of World Kobane Day

https://anfenglishmobile.com/rojava-syria/kongra-star-calls-for-struggle-in-the-spirit-of-world-kobane-day-63385

RELATED UPDATE: YJK-E holds annual congress: "No woman should remain unorganised"

https://anfenglishmobile.com/women/yjk-e-holds-annual-congress-no-woman-should-remain-unorganised-63386

RELATED UPDATE: Tehran Journalists Association condemns arrest of two colleagues following Jina Amini's death

https://anfenglishmobile.com/freedom-of-the-press/tehran-journalists-association-condemns-arrest-of-two-colleagues-following-jina-amini-s-death-63388

RELATED UPDATE: Turkey’s blackmails let Europe keep silent on the attacks against Kurds

https://medyanews.net/turkeys-blackmails-let-europe-keep-silent-on-the-attacks-against-kurds/

RELATED UPDATE: The new podcast of Çay at the Women's Front: From Rojhilat to the world

https://anfenglishmobile.com/women/the-new-podcast-of-Cay-at-the-women-s-front-from-rojhilat-to-the-world-63389

RELATED UPDATE: Students continue protests for freedom in Iran and East Kurdistan

https://anfenglishmobile.com/news/students-continue-protests-for-freedom-in-iran-and-east-kurdistan-63400

RELATED UPDATE: Iranian regime plans public trials in Tehran

https://anfenglishmobile.com/news/iranian-regime-plans-public-trials-in-tehran-63405

RELATED UPDATE: YPG and YPJ International on World Kobane^ Day

https://anfenglishmobile.com/rojava-syria/ypg-and-ypj-international-on-world-kobane-day-63411

RELATED UPDATE: World women's movements to meet in Berlin

https://anfenglishmobile.com/women/world-women-s-movements-meet-in-berlin-63412

RELATED UPDATE: Protests continue in Iran and Eastern Kurdistan

https://anfenglishmobile.com/news/protests-continue-in-iran-and-eastern-kurdistan-63414

RELATED UPDATE: Marking World Kobane Day, SDF vows to defend their regions against any threat

https://anfenglishmobile.com/rojava-syria/marking-world-kobane-day-sdf-vows-to-defend-their-regions-against-any-threat-63419

RELATED UPDATE: Internal Security Forces celebrate the 9th establishment anniversary in Qamishlo

https://anfenglishmobile.com/rojava-syria/internal-security-forces-celebrate-the-9th-establishment-anniversary-in-qamishlo-63424

RELATED UPDATE: WATCH Emphasis on 2015 UN resolution 'solution' to many problems in Syria: Former US official

https://www.rudaw.net/english/middleeast/syria/02112022

RELATED UPDATE: Martyr Serdem always dreamed of going to the mountains

https://anfenglishmobile.com/rojava-syria/martyr-serdem-always-dreamed-of-going-to-the-mountains-63434

RELATED UPDATE: Conflict deepens between KDP and PUK in northern Iraq

https://english.alaraby.co.uk/news/conflict-deepens-between-kdp-and-puk-northern-iraq

RELATED UPDATE: University students from Rojhilat join the guerrilla ranks

https://anfenglishmobile.com/kurdistan/university-students-from-rojhilat-join-the-guerrilla-ranks-63436

RELATED UPDATE: HBDH militia strikes a drug gang in Istanbul

https://anfenglishmobile.com/news/hbdh-militia-strikes-a-drug-gang-in-istanbul-63440

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tokisguitarpick · 4 years ago

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interruption part.1

characters: Skwisgaar Skwigelf x Reader

doods, I really tried to make this one giant piece but I said that on friday, it’s fuckin wednesday, work has been kicking my ass, here’s what I got so far

The first time you met Skwisgaar Skwigelf was unfortunately also the first time you pissed off Skwisgaar Skwigelf.

In your defense, you thought it would be prudent to bond with the support staff- your boss Charles, the music producer Abigail and her assistant Dick, the Klokateers, the people around the band- as soon as you could to cement your place at work first. After that, then you would really worry about Dethklok liking you. It's not that you were rude to them, hell your whole job was making sure their needs were met and they were secure and happy on a day to day basis. But if Charles asked you for a report at the same time Murderface told you to go get his dethphone from his bedroom, Charles took first priority. Which was why when you were sent to deliver a fax from Crystal Mountain Records to Abigail, you went diligently down the 4 floors it took to reach the studio and entered quietly, recognizing the red recording light on over the door. A brightly melodious guitar solo rang through the gothic studio rooms, sounding as exquisite as a Beethoven composition when unaccompanied by the rest of the death metal band, and you hovered by the door for a moment. You were nervous to disturb now that you heard exactly what they were recording. But your rationale won out and you decided to simply slip the fax to Abigail and leave.

Approaching her desk, you got a clear look at the source of the music and it caused your step to falter. Skwisgaar, tall and imposing, shredded his guitar with deft hands inside the recording booth, his fingers moving faster on the Gibson neck than your eyes could follow.

Instead, they moved to his face, taking in his closed eyes, his full lips parted, and a light sheen of sweat covering his skin as he worked. His long, cornsilk hair was uncharacteristically swept up in a messy bun at the nape of his neck, short tendrils made loose from exertion clinging to the edges of his face or else flowing around him. A bead of sweat caught your eye as it rolled down his Adams apple and your gaze trailed to his thin, defined arms and the muscles working under his skin, his long fingers showing off every ounce of skill he had. He looked nothing like the guitarist that took the stage with Dethklok, giving a heavy and thrashing performance. He looked at peace, a man entirely in his element. He looked heavenly.

Suddenly, every headline calling him a rock and roll god over a photo of him covered in ghoulish makeup felt entirely false. If only they could see what was in front of you now.

Sadly, all good things come to an end. Your faltered step caused you to squeak as you caught your balance. Abigail jumped and turned in her chair. The music ended with an abrupt squeal and Skwisgaar's icy blue eyes snapped open.

"Oh, who the fucks is this?!" he spat into the mic and you blushed, embarrassment finding a home in the pit of your stomach. Abigail sighed, looking you over with a crooked eyebrow.

"So sorry, I was just bringing this to you." You handed Abigail the fax and she unfolded the paper to read it over. Skwisgaar, who seemed to find your interruption bothersome enough, bristled as your eyes flickered between him and the music producer. He yanked the guitar strap off his shoulder and snarled, "Not evens anythings important! Get the fucks out of heres!" He held the guitar by the neck and gestured aggressively with it.

You jumped, turning tail and hurrying away as fast as you could without running. The only reasoning for his behavior came at the end of an email from Abigail, a throwaway line about it being crunch time with the production of the newest album. But sadly, that was the start of your professional relationship with the Dethklok member and it was a shame, that one instance coloring the way he treated your presence in Mordhaus. He didn't reply when you asked the band questions, he turned his nose up when you had to contain some of the band's more brutal ideas, he only ever referred to you as a servant, the list went on.

It was taxing and honestly, a little upsetting. You had managed to piss off Nathan your first week here as well but by the next morning, he greeted you with a joke about it and asked you to make a pot of coffee. You spent many afternoons wondering if there was any way to make it up to the haughty guitarist. And wondering what exactly you needed to make up in the first place.

The next climactic moment in your relationship came around the four month mark of your employment.

The acrid smell of burning plastic reached you as you walked past the hallway leading to the kitchen, making you sigh. You put a jump in your step, something at odds with the very exasperated expression you could feel on your face, and hurried to the source of the smell, the armful of dirty laundry you'd picked up in the living room discarded as you jogged. Entering the kitchen, it took no time to zero in on the small fire slowly growing on the stovetop.

Toki and Skwisgaar stood over it, the former blowing frantically at the quickly blackening frying pan while the former flapped at the fire with a hand towel. The mere sight of Toki's long hair billowing around the open flame made your chest seize. "Guys, guys," you will be the first to admit, your voice came out in a shriek, "stop! Move!"

Toki jumped away from the stove with a welp, his eyes wild when he saw you. You snatched the fire extinguisher off the wall by the door and ran up to the stove. Skwisgaar still hadn't moved. If anything, he seemed to step in your way, blocking you from the fire. "I has it under controls, leave." His voice was hard and cold, almost jarring in contrast to the scene playing out.

And in your bewilderment, you snapped. Months of irritation compounding itself into a rage that bubbled past your lips, you growled, "Skwisgaar Skwigelf. If you think-", you grabbed a fistful of his shirt and wrenched him back, "-for a goddamn SECOND-" Skwisgaar stumbled and you caught his slim waist in the crook of your arm, "-I'm going to explain to Charles-", you threw him behind you and lined up the extinguisher, "-his most arrogant guitarist got third degree burns because he was too fucking STUBBORN-" aim, "-to MOVE!" fire. You pulled the trigger on the fire extinguisher and doused the stove in a thick, chemical scented foam, holding it there until the fire was smothered. Breathing heavily, you spun around and shoved the extinguisher into the blonde's arms. "Then you're stupid, too," you murmured with venom.

Skwisgaar was a tall man so even face to face as you were, he still towered over you, his eyes icy and his hands overlapping yours on the safety equipment. His eyes traced your face and you could the heat coming off your cheeks but using all your strength, you softened your expression. "Stop freezing me out. I'm just here to help." Your voice was still low but much gentler, which seemed to throw him off. Skwisgaar's haughty face mellowed and his eyes dropped to your mouth, his bottom lip finding a place between his teeth unconsciously.

"Ja," Skwisgaar finally replied, a terse acceptance as he took the fire extinguisher from you. His eyes hadn't left your face for a moment and he just rocked back on his heels, keeping the equipment awkwardly held in front of him. "I suppose Charles woulds finds dat upsettings."

Breathing a sigh of relief, you finally looked back at the stove and frowned at the charred frying pan. "Can I ask what you guys were doing?"

Toki finally piped up, seeming relieved that you weren’t yelling at them. "We's were tryings to makes a grilleds cheese."

Eyebrows furrowed, you studied the charcoal in the pan until you recognized it as a whole block of cheese. The mental image of a new, freshly purchased block of cheese, still wrapped in the plastic, being placed by these adult idiots into the frying pan made your blood pressure rise and you immediately put it to the side, deciding against any other questions.

"Okay. Well. I'll order us some pizza."

That cheered Toki up immediately but Skwisgaar simply nodded once, his cheeks turning a very light pink.

From that point on, Skwisgaar seemed to slowly accept your place as a member of the support staff. Between riffing on your jokes and agreeing with you on occasion, you would've said that your relationship with Skwisgaar was the best it had ever been.

Unfortunately, this came with an unforeseen consequence.

Now, you had a massive crush on Skwisgaar.

Okay, sure. Technically, you'd had a crush on him for a few years. Everyone in the world knew Dethklok and regardless if they liked the music or not, everyone had a favorite. Yours had always been the Swed. And sure, he looked hot as fuck in the recording booth all those momths ago. But all the following cold shoulder encounters had turned you off of the rock star, the withering look he shot you whenever you had tried to reign in the band members kicking any thoughts of fancy to the curb.

But that was before. This was after. The shock you felt later that day when he addressed you by name for the first time was electrifying. Instead of jestful barbs at your expense on the off chance he acknowledged you, Skwisgaar joked that you took no shit so Murderface better stop riling you up. No longer barking "Moves!" if you were in his way, he simply slipped past you, his hand warm against your upper- though once or twice, lower- back. Now you preened yourself when you knew you would see him, not wishing you could hide. It was driving you crazy.

You felt like a groupie or a schoolgirl, constantly fixated on your crush. Wishing and scheming to get closer when he was around you, his presence obscuring your thoughts when he was away. You had read all the print interviews available in the Mordhaus archives, watched the video interviews online, and had even followed a Dethklok fan Instagram to get a smattering of band photos on your timeline every day. You justified it all as being diligent at your job. But that only went so far, even with yourself. You stayed there, living in limbo for months as you wrestled with your feelings and professionalism. Skwisgaar, however, seemed oblivious to the effect he was having on you. You caught him staring at you sometimes but it was so few and far between that you simply chalked it up to him zoning out.

Or that's how you lived until Christmas.

You celebrated your winter holiday early so you could be on call for the band during actual Christmastime, which turned out to be a good idea. The mothers of Dethklok decided to visit the week leading up to the 25th, having skipped the year before on Charles' recommendation and they seemed exceedingly cranky due to that. The week itself was brutal - Nathan was broody and even quicker to anger than normal, Pickles hadn't been seen sober since they learned about the impending arrival, Murderface was essentially a walking scab from the anxious picking he'd subjected his arms to, and Toki was catatonic.

Of course, your focus was caught most by Skwisgaar. Sulky with a sour stomach, he kept his head down all week. He had his guitar glued to his hands and was second only to Toki in using avoidance as a defense mechanism.

It was incredibly stressful juggling between the bristled band members and their neurotic mothers. Charles himself said it would be at least a month before they could schedule any public appearances so the boys could decompress, and ideally avoid a PR nightmare. So to say you were glad to see their mothers finally leave, only Nathan's thanking you for attending to her, was an understatement.

After a long day of taking everyone to eat then to the airport, you had retired to your small Mordhaus apartment as soon as you could - which was pretty soon as the band seemed just as exhausted and had disappeared once you had gotten home.

You didn't reemerge until after midnight, sneaking out and down the hall to find something to eat at a quarter past twelve. The house was quiet on your walk to the kitchen but after grabbing your snack - a cold cut sandwich you had wrapped in a paper towel to avoid leaving a trail of crumbs - you heard soft, twinkling music coming from the living room as you passed it on your way to the elevators. Pausing to listen, you recognized it as guitar and wondered which of the guitarists were playing, given that Nathan was the only band member who couldn't. You wondered if Murderface had seen you head down and was trying to get your attention, a ploy he had used before, ending with your curiosity getting the best of you. You crept to the living room entrance to peek.

Skwisgaar sat on the sofa facing you, pale and glowing in the dim light coming from the arcade games. His eyes were closed as his fingers glided over the neck of his Gibson, his silky hair draping down his neck and naked shoulders. Seemingly dressed for bed, he was shirtless - though his guitar hid his midriff, to your disappointment - with a pair of black sweatpants on. He seemed lost in his music, strumming out a low melody with mastery.

Your breath caught as you took in the sight and you stood there silently, trying to photograph the moment in your mind, until you registered his expression.

Devastation.

His eyes were closed but tears were streaming down his gaunt cheeks, his quivering eyebrows were furrowed, and he was mouthing a song to himself, his full lips pale. He looked like a man at war with himself, lost and broken. The music was no longer soft and twinkling, it hung in the air like a funeral dirge.

As the past few days ran through your mind, every mention of Skwisgaar's childhood came back to you and all the pieces suddenly clicked into place. This wasn't a man lost, this was a man, once again, in his element. The grief and sickness he had been feeling all week was flowing out of his guitar like the tears from his eyes.

Feeling your own eyes prickling, you felt like this was too much, too personal, for you to see. But despite that, your heart ached and you were stepping forward before you registered the motion. "Skwisgaar?"

#metalocalypse #metalocalypse fanfic #skwisgaar skwigelf #skwisgaar skwielf x reader #dethklok #i wanted it to be 5 times you interrupt skwisgaar and the last one was gonna end in a kiss but i'm slow #i got stubby slow fingers donts fuckin looks at me #if you have ever seen hozier live i tried to capture that in the recording booth #timeline is weird because i wrote this before debating if my fics take place between s3 and s4 still dont know!!!! enjoy!!!

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dziedietmeitas · 4 years ago

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look i was gonna do replies but my dsymenorrhea hit me pretty badly. im so sorry abt that

but anyways relations page... ive been wanting to do that. tho i'll most likely write relations milda has history with. the following are..

-li/thuania

-po/land

-be/larus

-mama bal/tia (!!!!)

-ru/ssia

-uk/raine

-ice/land

-est/onia

-swed/en, den/mark & fin/land (sorta??)

^^^if you rp any of these hmu in the chat or discord :--)

and if your muse has no history with milda, but you feel we interacted enough? let me know either way! we shall plot it out first.

#🌼 out of cēsis;

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the-toppat-king · 4 years ago

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Chapter Eight: Brothers at Heart

Sven groaned a bit as he woke up.

For a moment the Swed lay on the stiff bed of the med bay, staring at the ceiling. A dull pain spread through his back, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been the past few days. Sighing, Sven rubbed his eyes and slowly sat up. Thomas sat nearby, reading, and Sven felt a familiar relief at seeing him.

Since they were caught he'd been having nightmares. The first night he had dreamt that they hadn't been captured, but rather killed in front of him. He had screamed when he woke up, but thankfully hadn't had that one again since the two escaped while he had been unconscious. The new nightmare was that their escape was only a dream. He'd wake up in the nightmare and they'd be gone again.

"A', you're awake."

Sven glanced up, smiling as he saw Right in the doorway.

"Hey, Right. How's Henry doing?"

"You two are so predictable, 'Enry asks the same question every time 'e sees Reg and I." Right laughed a bit. "'E's adjusting. Not easy 'aving a new spine, I suppose, but he's toug'ing it out. Pretty sure the doc might be keepin' 'im 'ig' on pain killers whenever s'e's not working on 'im."

"How's Reginald handling it?" He frowned. "He's not overworking himself, is he?" Sven couldn't imagine how hard it had to be for Reginald. He loses one son and almost loses the other in one day, immediately gets the first son back and then loses him again. Sven hadn't been there, but he'd heard that Reginald had seen Henry die. Even if it was only temporary, it couldn't have been easy. Hell, it was hard for him to even hear about.

"No, 'Enry gave 'im an order to take it easy and consider 'is limits. It ain't easy on eit'er of us, but we'll manage." Right walked over, sitting down by him. "But 'ow are you doing, Sven? I know you've been 'aving nig'tmares."

"Thomas told you?" Sven rubbed his arm, shooting Thomas a glare.

"I've done nothing of the sort! Reginald checks on you occasionally." He didn't even look up from his book, licking his thumb to turn the page. "It's not my place to tell anyone if you don't want to talk about it.

"T'omas is telling the truth." Right frowned. "And Burt c'ecks the cameras when 'e gets up in t'e morning. 'E's seen you wake up screaming."

Goddammit Burt.

"Yeah, I..." Sven sighed, looking at his feet. "...it's nothing. There's just...a lot of guilt."

"W'y?"

"If it wasn't for me getting hurt, Henry wouldn't have been captured and he wouldn't be injured. He shouldn't have stopped for me."

"Sven."

The blonde looked up at Right as he took his hand.

"W'at 'appened was not your fault." He told him sternly. "I told Reginald this and I'll tell you the same t'ing, Dmitri s'ot you, Dmitri s'ot 'Enry, Dmirti is w'y t'is all 'appened. And Dmitri is not getting away wit' t'is. I know w'at I'm saying won't stick at first, and I know it won't stop the guilt. It won't stop the nig'tmares or make you feel better yet. But for now I need ya to know t'at you couldn't 'ave prevented this. Someone would 'ave been caug't no matter w'at. Dmitri would not 'ave been satisfied wit' just you. I mean, t'ere was a fuckin' riot, and t'e man focused on 'Enry, C'arles, Ellie and T'omas just because t'ey started it and ruined 'is reputation."

"I know..."

"So don't blame yourself." Right sighed. "I know it ain't gonna be easy, Sven. I never said it was, but you gotta fig't off t'ose t'oug'ts t'at it was your fault, because it wasn't."

The blonde sighed, nodding. "Alright, Pa." He paused a moment, taking a breath. "Do you think I could see Hen?"

"If you can prevent Reg from bein' a mot'er 'en for an 'our or two." Right grinned. "It's no good for you to stay in the med bay all day."

Sven smiled...

"Although you get to ask Dr. Vinsc'pinsilstien."

...and immediately deflated. He didn't know much about the woman, only that she was a former Toppat Clan member and she had a grudge. He knew she was a member around the time Terrence was leader, and while he only met her a handful of times(typically when he got dragged into Henry's mischief), she had always intimidated him a bit. But he understood asking her himself, he was an adult, after all.

Also she might be a tad bit angry if I just show up. Sven thought with a wince. We're lucky that she even agreed to save Henry in the first place, we should not antagonize her.

"That's fair, I suppose." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Thank you for letting me see him, Dr. Vinschpinsilstien."

"Mhm. I have a feeling it would have ended in a fight if I said no."

"Why is that?"

"Just a hunch." She muttered. "Toppats are stubborn people who don't usually take no for an answer."

"Dr. Vinschpinsilstien." Sven paused. "We are not in any kind of place to make demands of you or make you angry. We're lucky you even decided to stabilize Henry, let alone perform the surgery to save him."

"Eh, I can't complain much. He's not bad company, and he's quite bright."

"...are we talking about the same Henry Stickmin? The man climbs in vents."

Dr. Vinschpinsilstien laughed a bit. "Never outgrew that?"

"Well his first week of leader I caught him stuck in the vent above his desk. I still have no clue how he got up there or why."

"Eh, he's a small man. Probably just likes small spaces."

With that, she opened the door.

Sven stood silently a moment.

Henry was talking quietly with Charles, but what really caught his attention was the lack of a shirt and the fresh scars the marked his pale skin. His left side, around his shoulder area, was scarred horribly and the entire arm, shoulder included, was gone. The new arm itself was detached, laying on Henry's lap while he worked on it. There was a piece of metal with a part to connect the arm to on where the shoulder once would have been. His chest was scarred horribly as well. One long scar went down his chest, where Sven assumed his heart had been removed. A light glowed brightly on the center of his chest, fading and brightening with the rhythm of a heartbeat.

Scars also crossed his face, one going from the bottom right half of his face up near the top corner of his left eye and a couple down the left side of his face. His left eye was dull, pupil cloudy. Blind.

Sven didn't think he wanted to see his back.

Suddenly Henry looked up, noticing his adoptive brother standing there. A grin spread across his face and he set his arm aside, practically jumping up. "Sven-"

-and immediately Henry was falling forward.

The blonde just barely managed to dart forward in time to catch him. "Henry!"

"Eh, sorry, this is going to take some times to get used to." He laughed a bit as Sven shifted to prop him up. "Doc says it'll take some time before I can-"

"Before you can even stand!" She finished. "And not just time, physical therapy! You're not going to recover if you're so reckless!"

"Sorry, Doc." He replied, voice a bit quieter. Sven blinked at him, something hitting him.

He's talking to them.

"Эти проклятые Топпаты." Dr. Vinschpinsilstien muttered, leaving. "Они собираются убить меня!"

"You're talking." Sven looked at Henry. "Since when?"

Henry glanced at Charles with a goofy grin. "What can I say? For a government pilot, he's not that bad. Ellie's pretty cool, too, and the doctor is good company when she's not annoyed."

"Hey, uh." Charles suddenly stood, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sven, right? I...I'm sorry. If I hadn't run into you guys, you wouldn't have been hurt and Henry wouldn't have gotten caught."

Sven stared blankly at him. He...apologized? For what?

"If it wasn't for me getting hurt, Henry wouldn't have been captured and he wouldn't be injured. He shouldn't have stopped for me."

Oh.

For some reason it hadn't occurred to him that anyone else involved would be feeling some kind of guilt. How could that not occur to him? Thomas and Reginald saw him fall, Ellie was the person just before him on the ladder, Geoffery left him and Charles was the one to ask for help.

Do I even blame him? Sven loathed the government, of course. He didn't think there was a Toppat who didn't.(Except maybe Henry, but Henry was always a bit of an odd ball.) But could he really blame Charles for doing his job?

Both of them were there at the wrong time.

"It isn't your fault." Sven avoided his eyes as he helped Henry back to the bed. "Trust me, I get it, and I get that it isn't going to be easy. But just remember that this is all Dmitri's fault. You got involved because of the way he runs the wall, right? If he weren't a goddamn dictator, you wouldn't be involved."

Charles blinked a couple times, then smiled. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Besides, I need to focus on taking them down!"

Optimist, much?

"We need to focus on taking them down." Henry corrected. "The government's agreed to get off our back for a while if we help."

"What? A-are you serious?" Sven straightened up, and Charles rubbed the back of his neck.

"I mean...we can't actually prove you've done anything illegal yet? As a group, I mean. We can try to take down your leaders, but as a whole we can't touch the Clan itself." He admitted. "It's why we sent Henry on board, to either capture Reginald or the Right Hand Man or find evidence that would let us make an arrest. But, uh, that backfired."

"It almost didn't." Sven admitted. "I wasn't there, but from what I've heard, Henry was very close to handing Reginald over. He only decided against it because leadership of the Toppat Clan was better in the long run."

Henry nodded. "...although, that might not be an option anymore."

"...what?"

"Dr. V thinks it might be best if I step down." Henry admitted. "...and I don't think she's wrong. My heart and arm, fine, I can deal with that and it won't slow me down. But my spine had to be completely replaced, along with my ribs. My spine is actually exposed, all it takes is one gunshot for the cybernetics keeping me alive to start failing. One mission gone wrong, or one rouge Toppat who gets unhappy with my leadership..."

"...and it'd be easy to take you out." Sven finished quietly. "But...if you don't come back, what will you do? Do you have anywhere to go?"

"Dr. Vinschpinsilstien offered me a job here if I want it. Look, I won't abandon you guys right now, I won't make any concrete decisions until..." Henry glanced at Charles. "Well, you know."

Until the rocket launches. Sven guessed. "...I don't want to lose you again."

"...I know. I don't want to say goodbye, either. But...you guys will always be family, don't get me wrong, but I just...I don't think my place is with the Clan anymore. I...I don't think it has been for a long time."

Sven sighed, sitting on the end of the bed as Henry returned to tinkering with the arm. His heart sank a bit, but he knew Henry was right.

It wasn't safe for him to come back permanently. Henry had been a Toppat once, but he wasn't anymore and Sven knew that. He reasoned that it wasn't like they couldn't call, and they would have to come back to Earth for raids. They could see each other every once in a while.

"Y'know." Charles spoke up. "Uh, we do fund Dr. Vinschpinsilstien."

Sven looked at him, confused.

"Her research, I mean. And in exchange we get to be some of the first people to test out her cybernetics. So, uh, if Henry actually did want to work with her, we might be able to get him a pardon under the reasoning that he works with us. I mean, she...doesn't really work for or with us, but who cares about technicalities?"

"...you'd do that?"

"Of course! Henry's my friend! Also we do owe him for the whole kidnapping thing." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I, uh, don't know why the General thought that was a good idea."

"Ellie gets pardoned first." Henry reminded him.

"Sure. We have...no idea what she was in there for, actually." Charles admitted. "She was a thief, sure, but it was nothing that notable."

"It doesn't matter to Dmitri." Henry muttered. "It wouldn't surprise me if he just kidnapped her without thinking and it just so happened she had a criminal record. But it's not our place to ask unless she wants to tell us."

"I hope she's willing to open up to us." Charles added. "We'll be a real Triple Threat for the Wall!"

"...why did you say it like that?"

"Charles likes to be dramatic."

"I do not-"

"You crashed a helicopter into the airship."

"I- Okay, you got me there."

Sven smiled.

At least if Henry stayed while the Clan left, he wouldn't be left alone.

And while the grief was still there, it didn't seem as bad now.

__________________________________

Translations Эти проклятые Топпаты - These damn Toppats Они собираются убить меня - They're going to be the death of me

#Chapters #The Toppat King #Dr. Vinschpinsilstien #Sven Svensson #Right Hand Man #Thomas Chestershire #Ellie Rose #Charles Calvin

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alkylic · 6 years ago

Text

A Dragon’s Void

Chapter 1//Next

Xisuma has been suddenly changed into a rampaging Ender Dragon-- There was little to no warning, the only the person that knows anything about the void is the problem to begin with-

Will he ever become human again?

“Come on Xisuma, you know I don’t need-- What- how many is this! Like 20 different boxes of wither roses!” Iskall light-heartedly teased the admin, as he shuffled through the mountain of boxes with wither roses provided by X. While Xisuma snickered at the Swed's behavior.

“Well, it’s your fault for not giving me clear instr--”

The sentence was abruptly cut short, followed by a sudden thud. Iskall was still talking on and on about-- Something- He wasn’t sure- His hearing was ringing with pain. He blinked, and the Swedish man was already next to him, his mouth was moving-- but what was he saying? Everything was blending together. X was sure he said he was fine, maybe Iskall didn’t hear it? X spoke again, but still nothing, Iskall was still panicking, now talking into his communicator-- Suddenly, everything started to feel warm- and nothing hurts anymore.

He blacked out.

>Iskall85 was slain by Ender Dragon

>Rendog: Iskall you good bro?

>Iskall85: yeah im fine, just dont know what happened lul

>Docm77: what do you mean

>Iskall85: was talking with x and he suddenly collapsed on me

>Docm77: that has nothing to do with the dragon

>Iskall85: i know right, it's super weird

>Iskall85: anyways, i slept super far away, whos at the shopdis rn?

>Rendog: i am in the medieval district

>Rendog: hold on ill go get your stuff for ya

>Iskall85: thanks my dude

>Rendog: Iskall?

>Iskall85: yeah?

>Rendog: why are some buildings broken in the shopping district?

>Iskall85: wdym it was fine when i was there

>Rendog: some buildings have huge claw marks over it--

>Rendog: oh my god

>Iskall85: ??

>Rendog: is that xis

>Rendog was slain by Ender Dragon

“Alright, um. I definitely thought I was seeing things when it happened. But its apparently real! Good to know.” Iskall breathed out, trying to make it light.

“Iskall. Our fucking admin turned into a bloodthirsty Ender dragon.” The creeper man deadpanned as he sharpened his trident. The three hermits now gathered on top of the Sahara building, taking in the damage that their admin was causing.

“So…. What do we do now?” Ren asked, attempting to break the silence.

“I mean. If he is an Ender dragon now, we should be able to just- kill him, and everything should go back to normal? Respawning always fixes player-related issues.” False suggested while landing on top of the white structure, back from scouting the area.

“Wouldn’t hurt to try I guess--” Ren started, before getting knocked off of Sahara from a kick coming from behind.

“Ren!” Iskall yelled, turning around quickly with his bow, only to see X already turning towards him, this time with a punch. He scrambled out of the way, barely dodging it. The force had knocked a decent dent into the roof of the structure. He shuddered at the thought of taking that punch. False quickly took X’s attention from Iskall and slashed her sword at him. The diamond sword clanged at the purple, amethyst scales on the admin’s arms. A horrible scratching noise erupted from the contact of the two.

The dragon quickly swapped his position, sweeping his tail onto the floor horizontally. Tripping False from her footing. Iskall joined back into the fight, shooting at him with his bow. With the arrows piercing into the British man’s back. While Ren flanked him with his ax. X let out a loud roar, stumbling for a moment, before turning his attention to Ren. Launching himself at the man. Before being interrupted by Doc. The trident stabbed through the armor the other was wearing. Taking a huge chunk off of the admin’s health bar displayed from the screens. False, ran from behind and drove her sword into his back. A roar even more horrible and strained from before erupted from Xisuma-- A wet liquid dropped onto Doc’s trident--

Was that…. Tears?

There was no doubt about it, tears ran from the dragon’s eyes, almost as if pleading for life. The health bar of the Boss was draining away-- Doc quickly let go of his trident, and took out a splash potion of healing and smashed it onto the ground. X suddenly realized he had what little of his strength back, and scrambled off to fly away from the hermits. Still with False’s sword in his back.

“Doc, what are you doing?!” False yelled.

“I-- I don’t think he would respawn from this,” Doc spoke quietly, “If he really is an Ender dragon now. He won’t be able to respawn like us players.” He realized.

The four were silent. Thinking about it- Yeah. X is basically a mob now. And if they did kill him--

No, they won’t kill him, they didn’t kill him.

“Where would he go now?...” Ren said, “We have a lot of lands to cover if we are searching for him…”

The other hermits stared at Doc, who seemed to be thinking of an answer.

“We can regroup at Area 77 for now. We have better equipment there, and we can cover more area with the drones-- Plus, it’ll be the safest place for us.”

“...Whatever you say.”

#hermitcraft #xisumavoid #xisuma #falsesymmetry #docm77 #rendog #ren #doc #false #writings #xisumadragon au #a dragon's void #<< new tag for the au!!#hermitcraft au #8/26/19

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har-rison-s · 6 years ago

Text

hypnotize

request: Alright, you are lovely! So, my request is Ben!Roger coming back home after weeks and the reader preparing a special night for them, including a striptease with music and all. Then, an awesome night of sex and love and talking.

A/N: Let's pretend that Hypnotize by Notorious B.I.G./Biggie Smalls already existed in the 70s cause I DIG that song and it makes me think about Roger, it's a fitting song for him in my mind. Hope this meets your standards. Happy reading!

warnings: I don't usually put up warnings in smuts, and this is no exception. I like to surprise people ;) also this is quite long

main masterlist

borhap masterlist

borhap!roger masterlist

Tours that I'm not able to go to are the worst. There's the doubts, the neediness, the stress, the daydreams and the longing. That one's the worst. Sometimes I feel like tossing and turning around in my bed because I miss Roger so much. I miss talking to him, waking up to him, eating together, going to his shows and rehearsals.

Of course, I miss his touch and his hands and his other physical, god-like gifts. The sexual frustration makes me crazy, as well. Not like I don't want to touch myself when he's not here because 'no fun without your man'. It's because I don't want to. Rather wait for him than do it myself. Maybe I'm lazy?

But, Roger's finally coming back home tonight from Queen's UK and Europe tour, and I couldn't be more excited. Nerves are taking a hold on me, and, even thinking that I'll see him in a couple of hours makes me shiver. Cliche, of course, but I'll be wearing his favourite underwear set under my flowery dress. And—another cliche—I'm making dinner and putting on a show afterwards. It's the least I can do for my boyfriend being the wonderful man he is.

“Now, now, there's the usual hook-up check.” I say, stretching the skin of his face softly here and there, checking for any trace of another female that might be left on him, even if accidentally. I've waited for them at the airport for what seemed like forever, and now, finally being able to hold him, I still can't resist my natural instincts.

His band mates snicker at my check, and Roger sighs quietly, not resisting and just waiting for the whole thing to be over. No lipstick trace, no hickeys, no puffy lips and no marks at the roots of his hair—also no hair pulled out—he's clean. I leave his head alone and then press the longest kiss to Roger's lips I can remember us sharing between ourselves. I've missed him too much. I feel Roger completely relaxing against my lips, his arms tightening around my torso and pulling my chest closer against his. My boobs feel squashed.

“I've missed you.” Roger whispers when he pulls just a mere centimeter away, watching my lips as he traces his thumb over them. A tear rolls down my cheek, I can't believe he's really here again, although it's been three months—some might say 'only'. I smile wide at him.

“I've missed you more.” I reply. Our foreheads touch and I close my eyes, just enjoying this particular moment.

“Two can play at that game, missy.” Roger says and I hear the smirk adorning his lips and giggle. Not so privately, he slaps his hand down on my bum and I shriek. “Let's get us home.” He says and I give him a smile. We turn around and say goodbye to the guys. We walk past them to get to an available taxi that will bring us right home.

Roger sighs once he and his suitcase have arrived home. I smile to myself, locking our apartment door and turning back around to Roger. “I hope you're hungry.” I say and Roger turns to me. He's put his jacket on a hanger and has quite the clueless look on his face. I grin and take his hand, pulling him towards our kitchen.

“I am. And very tired, as well.” He says and tugs along with me. I stop both of us at the table and Roger gasps quietly. I look at him, my head turned to him, and grin. He's seen the dinner and some silly decorations I chose. Nothing, really, but I liked them and thought they'd suit the occasion well. “Wow, baby.” Roger says and pulls me closer by my waist, pressing a kiss against my temple and I giggle. “Thank you, oh my. This looks wonderful.”

“So let's jump right in.” I say and walk over to the table, sitting down. Roger looks at me for a moment, and I raise my eyebrows. He walks over to the table to sit across me, and does exactly so.

“I feel like we're in a restaurant.” He admits and we both chuckle, exchanging playful glances. “This might be nothing for you, but wow... Pasta with meat, tomato sauce, greens, and—what's this?”

I laugh at his confusion. “White carrots.” I say. He says it might be nothing for me because of my profession - I'm a chef at a restaurant. I make food for the two of us when either I have time on my hands or when we have a special occasion. It's a natural thing, but I like to leave most of it at work and not bring work home.

“White carrots?!” Roger echoes and I nod. “What the hell are those?”

“They exist, believe it or not.” I reply and Roger laughs.

“Thought carrots were only orange.” He admits and I nod again. “Sorry I'm not that educated on the fancy vegetables, love.” He says and looks at me with sorry eyes, but I shake my head at him.

“Bon appetit!” I say, taking my fork in my hand.

“Bon indeed.” Roger replies and takes his, as well. He digs into his portion immediately and moans. I watch his reaction, similar to the one he has when I go down on him, and it's bound to graze my eyes many times tonight. I smirk at that. “God, this is so good, Y/N. I might have just come in my pants.” He says and I watch his face while I laugh, but his is full of seriousness.

“Well, glad you like it.” I reply and take a few mouthfulls of the pasta as well. “It really is good.” I state and Roger nods.

“It's amazing, baby.” He says. “How did I get so lucky with you, huh?” Roger asks and nudges my foot with his. I grin, looking at him for exactly a split second. “You look wonderful today, by the way. Love this dress.” He says and I blush, wanting to hide it with my hand, but failing. Roger's got a smirk on his face as he keeps eating his pasta. “Hope dessert includes the dress on the floor.”

“Shut up.” I laugh quietly and straighten my back. “So, how was Europe? Well, half of it...”

“Strange, really. A lot less people than we have here.” Roger responds. I nod, listening for more. “And all of them can talk english—it surprised us, even the sweds!”

“You sound a bit arrogant, Rog.” I state and he sighs.

“Just a culture shock! Nothing more,” he assures and I nod playfully, “ah, but the crowds and the welcoming was incredible.”

“Did you try any national foods?” I ask and he nods.

“I did! I photographed most of them, got the pictures in my case.” Roger tells me and I hum appreciatively. “Most of them were alright. Some were just crazy and too much other-wordly for me. Brian liked the ones that didn't have meat a lot. And there were few of those.” Roger says, raising his eyebrows. I chuckle. “And have you seen french and italian men? Christ! If it wasn't for you, I'd have nothing left to lose and—”

“Turn gay?” I finish his sentence, and scoff out a laugh. Is he serious?

“Yeah. You have to see those specimens.” He says, fully serious. I keep laughing, the thought of Roger looking at men with heart eyes makes me amused like nothing else. “Laugh at me all you want, but they're damn attractive.”

“Okay, Rog, do I have to fear that you'll run back off to some french barista?” I play along. Roger laughs and he shakes his head.

“Just have to keep me.” He answers. “Perhaps we could go for vacation to France.” He looks at me and I raise my eyebrows, nodding.

“My dream would finally come true, then.” I say. “Working in a Paris restaurant, living somewhere in a french cottage outside the city. Having the 'French diet' for breakfast, lunch and dinner.” Roger looks at me confused.

“The 'French diet'?” He repeats. I grin.

“Coffee, cigarettes and sex.” I explain. Roger hums and nods.

“That does sound quite nice.” He admits and I chuckle.

“Maybe a croissant here and there.” I say. Roger laughs. “Any new songs coming?”

Roger raises his eyebrows and tilts his head from side to side. “Yeah, I got some ideas, but not a song.” He says. “How have you been?”

I shrug and push another mouthful of pasta down my throat. “Nothing big.” I say. “Oh! One time there was a bachelor party at our place and guess what they ordered from us.” I look at him with a dead-serious face.

“The fianceé's portrait on a cake?” Roger suggests. I shake my head.

“The stupid cliché - a dick cake.” I answer and Roger bursts out laughing. “I know.” I say and shake my head, laughing as well.

“Didn't even know fancy places like yours did dick cakes!” He says and I laugh even more.

“The worst part was,” I say and point my fork to myself, “I had to do it.”

“Christ!” Roger exclaims and laughs again, throwing his head back. “Can't believe you had to go through that torture. When was it?”

“Uh, last Saturday.” I say once remembering. “And that was also the night we had the most costumers and I got a fish dropped on me.” I admit. Roger makes a disgusted face at me.

“Poor you, love.” He says with sympathy. I show him my tongue, which he smiles at, and look back down at my food. “Right, I'm already finished.” Roger says and leans into his chair with his back.

“Alright.” I stand up and walk over to the fridge, taking some whiskey and ice from it, and two glasses from the cabinet up above. I feel Roger's stare on my thighs, I know exactly what he's hungry for, what he's been missing for weeks on end. I grin and turn around, trying to get the satisfaction of it off my face.

“Aw, no, I should've got that.” Roger starts to say, but I shake my head. “You've done enough already.”

“I ain't done yet, darling.” I say and place our glasses down on the table. Roger gives me a curious raise of an eyebrow and watches me pour the whiskey into the glasses. I put two ice cubes in each glass and sit back down, wrapping my right hand's fingers around my glass. “When do you get your next vacation?” I ask after taking a sip.

Roger squints and takes a gulp from his glass as well, continuing to eat his pasta. “Probably after we finish our album.” He replies, but then opens his eyes wider. “Oh, no, sorry. It's now.” Roger finally says and I laugh. “Forgot for a moment where we are in the year.”

“That's alright.” I say. “We should do something together with the time we have, then.” I suggest and lean back in my chair, and Roger does the same. I notice his plate is empty and immediately rise back up, taking both our plates in hand and bringing them to the sink.

“Now, those I will definitely do.” Roger says and I hear him get up from his chair, but I turn around quickly.

“Roger, just relax.” I say and point to the exit of our kitchen. “Go to the living room, alright?” I ask of him and my hand drops to my side. Roger watches my eyes for a moment, searching for any faltering or unseriousness, but there's none to find.

“Yes, ma'am.” He answers and is off to the room in seconds. I chuckle at his eagerness and turn back to the plates. I scoff then, and put the plates in the washing machine. I ain't doing no dishes tonight.

I walk into the hallway where our record player stands and choose Roger's favourite sexy vinyl. I chuckle at that and remember the moment he called it that. I put the vinyl on the player and slowly put the needle on the vinyl. I love the sound of the vinyl's scratches before the music starts playing, and during the songs. It makes the whole listening experience much better.

The heavy beats of Notorious B.I.G.'s first song on the album play through-out our walls, and I close my eyes as I walk towards the living room. Roger's standing in the middle of it, and I lean against the doorframe.

“Sit down, love.” I say softly, which surprises him and he turns around. He eyes me up and down and then does as told. I don't like ordering or commanding him, it feels stupid when I tell him to do anything. There's a strange feeling in me when I do, but I don't mean it in a commanding or bossy way. This time I mean it differently.

Roger sits down and watches me walk over to stand in front of him, he then realises what song is playing—Hypnotize—and his head moves to the beat naturally. I smile at the response and shake my hips a little. Just a snippet from what I usually dance like when I'm home alone and this record is on.

His legs are parted slightly, and his hands are by his sides as he watches me move slowly over to him. My legs move slowly, and it's torturing him but also turning him on. The tent in his white pants is growing by the second, I grin.

I put my hands on his knees and spread them wider apart. While I run my hands up and down his thighs, I raise my head to watch his face change. His eyes are completely taken over by desire, barely keeping his beautiful orbs on me.

“Does this feel like home, Rog?” I ask sweetly, stopping my hands where his thighs meet his hipbones, gripping his thighs tightly. He whimpers and nods, his hand reaching up to take my cheek and bring it closer to him. My lips fall on his—the moment I've waited for all evening—and I sigh against Roger, completely melting into him. But I pull back and stand up, barely holding myself on my feet. I can't wait to have him all over me, holding me, inside me.

I pull my dress ever so slowly over my body, moving my hips from side to side once in a while. I hear Roger moaning once while the dress still goes over my head, and when it's finally on the floor, Roger's jaw drops to the floor.

I stand before him in the pink set of underwear that Roger so much loves, my hair moved over to the side from the dress. Roger's head hangs back against the sofa and he groans softly. “My god, baby...” He whispers, moving his leg around so his turn-on would feel more comfortable in the strained pants, and then looks back at me. I grin and stride back to him.

My legs are on each of his sides, straddling his lap, and I put my hands on his shoulders, then moving them up and down his biceps. I look into Roger's eyes and smile again. “Welcome home, Roger.” I say and kiss him. My hands go up to his cheeks, holding his face so that I can kiss him better.

Roger's hands are uncontrollable, they're moving over my bare back and waist in a quick pace as he pants between our slow kisses. I still want to tease the shit out of him, because nothing gives me an ego-boost like seeing him whimper and weaken because of me, under my touch. I kiss his lips slowly, stretching the moments in which our lips are parted, and then delve back in. I slip my tongue between his lips and Roger moans loudly, his grip tightening on my hips.

I move them against his thighs slowly, barely reaching my clothed core against his about-to-burst hard-on. Roger started to trail kisses down my neck, but my movements distract him and he hangs his head back against the sofa. I can't lose his attention on me, although I can't really complain.

“Roger...” I call for him and he looks at me with raised eyebrows, “please give me more.” I ask and bite my lip, feeling something building up in the depths of my core.

“What do you want, baby?” Roger asks and moves his hands down to my thighs, going up and down. I whimper, craving more of him and his touch.

“Touch me.” I whisper and my fingers slip past the borders of his pants, slipping inside his boxers. Roger stiffens when I grab onto his length, but lets out an animalistic groan when my hand moves up and down.

“Fuck, love,” he says and sits up straighter so he'd have a more comfortable reach. Roger moves his right hand down to my underwear and wastes no time, reaching right past the elastic and in between my folds. I fall against Roger's chest and his assault on my clit brings my hip movements to a stop, “like that? You like it when I touch you like that?”

I nod and moan against his neck, my lips stopping open in a kiss on his skin. With his other hand, Roger helps me move my hips up and down on his hand in a certain rhythm, bringing me closer and closer to the edge, but it keeps slipping away. My hand keeps slowly pumping him, and Roger returns moans and grunts to me in response. His two fingers are digging into me and he curls them, which makes me release a sound similar to a scream.

Roger reaches his free hand to my face and moves my face from his neck to above him, making our eyes connect. “Are you gonna cum, baby?” Roger asks in a challenging manner. I nod again, and my orgasm feels so close I can practically reach out and touch it with my fingertips. Roger shakes his head. “You're not coming unless it's on my cock.” He says and his words bring me to the edge. If it wasn't for him pulling out his fingers, I would've really come, but now I have to hold it in.

I pull my hand out of Roger's jeans to help him rid of them, sitting down next to him. I would have stood up, but my own legs are too wobbly. Roger takes off his boxers and immediately pulls my underwear down, as well. He stands up and lifts me off the sofa before laying me down on the floor. I give him a careful glance, but Roger just winks.

“There's not so much room there, is it?” He asks and leans down to me, his elbows resting on the carpet at each of my shoulders. His eyes are so hooded it seems he'll fall asleep any second now, and he only watches my eyes, his finger stroking the side of my face. “I could lay here and look at you like this for the rest of my life...” he admits, his voice sounding like a high pitched whisper. His falsetto is showing. I breathe out a chuckle and then stifle it immediately.

“Are you going to stare at me or fuck me?” I whisper, my thumb going over his sideburn while my fingers thread through his curls. Roger immediately shuffles his legs around and grabs onto my hips roughly, making me whimper and my back lifts off the carpet.

“Think we both know the answer to that, princess.” He says and I feel him pushing his length inside me slowly until he's filling me up completely. Roger relaxes against me once he's all the way in and groans heavenly. I watch his eyelids flutter and his lips part, and I trace my thumb over his lower lip softly. “Fuck, I've missed this.” Roger says and his head falls against my chest. My hand drops onto his back and I breathe out deeply, moaning at the very end at how he feels inside me. I've missed this, as well, Roger being so good to me in every way he can. Touching every inch of my walls with his cock.

“Please, move.” I beg him and Roger lifts his head in a second, grinning at me. He pulls out and then moves his hips back against mine, filling me up again and I throw my head back from the horribly ecstatic feeling. My hands tug at Roger's back and he presses kisses around my clothed breasts while his thrusts in and out of me increase their pace.

Roger puts his hands on the back of each of my thighs and hikes my legs up higher so that he can go even deeper into me, and he succeeds. The moan that leaves my lips is so high-pitched I fear that he may not top it even with his falsetto. My pelvis hurts from the spread, and I realise that our time apart has payed off badly. I'm not as used to him as I was. God, why? Why me?

“Roger,” I call for him softly, my voice laced with uncomfortablity, and he looks at me with furrowed brows. He notices the slightly pained expression on my face and halts his movements.

“What is it, baby? What did I do? Did I h-hurt you?” He asks and I nod barely noticably, there's even a tear at the corner of my eye. Regrettably. I've waited for this for three whole months. Stupid—“We can stop, I'm sorry.” Roger says and pulls out of me, and I whine at the loss of him. I feel so miserable now, so stupid. I wanted this, I didn't even think my body forgot... things. “Aw, don't cry, my love.” Roger says, but it does the opposite of stopping some stupid tears falling. I sit up and wipe them off quickly and look at Roger. My hand immediately reaches out to stroke him, and Roger wants to let me, but shakes his head. “It's alright, love, you don't have to—“ he interrupts himself with a sigh as I move my thumb over his tip, “go on.” Roger encourages me. He knows what he wants and needs, and also that I'm very stubborn.

I work his hard length and it makes Roger's forehead fall against my chest, only my name and heavy breaths leaving his lips. He tries to kiss my skin, but his kisses fade every time he starts. What does the trick and makes him come in seconds—he's already very impatient tonight and won't last long, I can tell—is me running my tongue over his lips and licking over his own. Roger comes, moaning my name in a high-pitched and high-volumed whines, his body shaking in short spasms, and I feel his cum already shooting out of him. I quickly move to sit in his lap and bend my back over his leg, letting his white ribbons decorate my bare stomach.

Roger almost loses his consciousness at the sight before him—me laying over his leg, his cum all over my stomach and my eyes watching his intently. My breasts are pushed up and my hair is sprawled all around my head. He thinks I'm a work of literal art, I can read that in his barely open eyes.

“Fuck.” He says in a breathy whisper. Roger's hair is wild - the closest strands to his face are sticky with sweat, but the rest are going in every other direction. I sigh and chuckle, and Roger looks down at me with a grin, his eyes dreamy. He's on his knees, leg pulled up from underneath me, and looking menacingly down at me. “Might need to repay the favour, eh?” He asks and leans down to my level. I nod.

“But not now.” I say before he can do anything. I'm still too sensitive. He raises an eyebrow at me, and then moves to lay next to me on his back.

“Mind telling me what was the matter?” He asks, turning his head to look at me. His hand sneakily reaches for mine and laces our fingers together. I look down at them, and then quickly at him, but returning my eyes to the ceiling afterwards.

“It hurt when you spread my legs apart.” I tell him. “I guess my body has forgot what it felt like having you inside me.” I admit and huff.

“We have time to remind it.” Roger smiles and I chuckle breathily.

“Didn't even think something like that could happen.” I say and then shake my head. “I'm sorry, Rog, that your welcome home present failed. I thought everything would be perfect...” Roger shakes his head now.

“It is perfect.” He says. “Believe me, it can happen to anyone, the body just... has a vacation.” Roger explains and I giggle at his choice of words. “Just do more stretches and read it up in your girl magazines. Don't be sorry.” I keep giggling. “Hey, I mean it. Don't you laugh!”

“Sorry, love,” I reply and look at him. He smiles wide at me and I return the gesture.

“Love you so much, Y/N.” He says, holding onto my cheek with his palm. “Don't you ever think you're any less than perfect, my girl.”

I smile into his hand and kiss the inside of it softly. I kiss up his hand until the middle of his forearm and then kiss his lips. It's sincere and full of love and understanding. “I love you, too.” I say. “I'm so glad you're home.”

Roger pulls me even closer to him by my waist. “'M glad to be home.” He admits and I smile wider, getting comfortable with my head against his chest. “Are we gonna stay here forever, then?” Roger asks, breaking the comfortable silence and I laugh.

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