#oh boy but i'm running out of options

[nokingsonlyfooles]

I Dunno What to Do

CW: I'm going to add a picture of a burn one of my healthcare providers gave me, just to express what's going on in general. I'll put everything under a cut.

Tonight, over a phone appointment (because she doesn't think I'm complicated enough to need an in-person appointment) the gynecologist flat out told me that thyroid and estrogen do not interact with each other (not true), that because I had a total hysterectomy I produce "no hormones" and when I sputtered and said I produce lots of hormones, she clarified that I produce no estrogen or progesterone (also not true), and she doesn't deal with anything other than "hot flashes, night sweats and vaginal dryness." That is not the nature of my symptoms - I am experiencing pain, and I told her that more than once, but I didn't get any traction until I started saying, "hot flashes, night sweats and vaginal dryness" like she wanted. The spouse thought I should make a point of reiterating that my symptoms are atypical, but she cut me off before I could even start.

It's really convenient that I have three doctors "working together" (ha-ha) on this, because nothing is ever any one doctor's responsibility. It's always someone else's problem. I said, "The progesterone helped my pain but increased my anxiety." She said, "Progesterone decreases anxiety." (Once again, not true. It can, but it can also make anxiety worse.) "That sounds like it could be something to do with your thyroid. Until you stabilize your thyroid, we won't know which symptoms are caused by what." I couldn't tell her that my thyroid meds have been stable since last September and the only thing that changed was the progesterone. I physically couldn't - if you cut me off enough times and keep saying things that don't make any sense, my words'll dry up like a wash in the desert - but I don't think it would've made any difference if I handed the phone to the spouse and let him explain. Not a good difference.

Then, in the end, she told me to stop increasing and decreasing my dosage trying to feel better, because it would mess with my thyroid and... I was the one who said that. I contradicted her when she said my thyroid had nothing to do with her. But when she wanted to control my behaviour, she threw it back in my face like she knew and I didn't.

I know my pain is increased and decreased by the hormones I'm taking, because I've been taking various combinations of hormones for years now. No estrogen or progesterone at all, which happened during the early days of the pandemic, caused the worst pain imaginable. I couldn't wear a shirt. I was taping my breasts and wearing sports bras two sizes too small just to keep them compressed and out of the way so nothing would touch them. I did that so much the tape cut my skin. Estrogen and progesterone lessen that pain, but I still have pain.

I've changed the way I carry my whole body and sleep because of this pain. I am always hunching to protect my stupid tits, and I don't reach across my upper body or hold things against my chest or let people hug me, even when I have a good day and they don't hurt so much. I'm that used to it. Because I'm not getting consistent care. And this tortured posture is contributing to my shoulder pain. Now that I've managed to wring estrogen AND progesterone out of this reluctant doctor ("You don't need progesterone unless you have a uterus. It'll make your breast pain worse. You might gain weight." *pointed look*) it hurts less, and I tripped over some exercises that are helping, but my shoulder has been hurting for years now too.

And that brings me back to my family doctor, who is supposed to take the lead and coordinate all these things, and who, in fact, gatekept me from a hormone specialist of any kind for over a year, and then referred me to these people who don't listen and don't seem to understand very basic things about hormones. At least, the gynecologist doesn't - or she's trying to dumb it down so much that she's not making any sense. I hold out some small hope the endocrinologist will see reason if I sit down and explain what's going on, but I won't see him again until March.

But, the very first referral I got from my family doctor was for the shoulder pain. He sent me to a chiropractor. She did multiple adjustments that made my shoulder numb, and burned my back with the TENS unit, probably by using dirty pads or failing to clean my skin before applying them.

Oh, and she didn't tell me. She sent me home, and I noticed the stabbing pain in my shoulder seemed a bit worse. When I looked in the bathroom mirror, I saw this:

I took a picture so I could show her, but I decided not to go back. I went to the family doctor and said, "That chiropractor you sent me to burned my back with the TENS unit" and the response was *crickets*. A blank look and it was back to "prescribing" me more herbs and supplements. He didn't even look at it.

I have scar tissue back there now, and nerve damage that's making it harder to address the original issue. I tried to get healthcare, I didn't ask the right questions or push back hard enough, and I got hurt even worse. Story of my life.

He's still pressuring me to take "sea kelp" because "it has trace minerals." It also has iodine. Lots of it. I told him I wasn't going to take any more iodine because the endocrinologist he sent me to told me it could shut down my thyroid. So now he's telling me to take sea kelp for trace minerals, like I couldn't possibly remember the iodine part. No, I'm not that stupid. I went along with the herbs for a while, too long, because that was the only thing he was offering me, and traditional medicine hadn't helped much at that point. No, turns out I didn't need unregulated OTC supplements, I needed to keep making a pest of myself until I got some real medicine. And I'm still doing that.

I just want to get better. It's hard enough putting in the effort to get better when I've gone through so much medical neglect and so many problems have piled up without being addressed. But I can't put all my energy into self care, or even most of it. I gotta fight my doctors, and do research, and piss them off by questioning their judgment again and again and again.

I suspect my family doctor is al the root of this. He doesn't care, and he refers me to other doctors who don't care. (Except the vision specialist, I found her myself. But the problem with her is, my eye thing is so uncommon most optometrists don't know about it. So I'm stuck with her too.) But I can't get rid of him unless I move to another city... or find another family doctor who's taking new patients, but there aren't any. And the clinics that fill prescriptions and do referrals won't treat me behind his back. I went to one. I tried. "You have a family doctor, he knows you better." No, he doesn't. And if he keeps treating me this way, he's gonna kill me. Or one of 'em is.

I've had doctors try to kill me before. One of 'em got me to take a dose of iron that would've put me in the hospital if a random pharmacist hadn't caught it and told me to stop. This here Canadian healthcare is the best I've ever gotten.

And, oh my god, that is terrifying.

I'm going to make an in-person appointment with the endocrinologist and lay it on the line for him: "This is what's happening. I'm getting contradictory treatment from three sources and my life is in danger. I don't have the authority to sort you out. If you can't take charge of this mess, no one else will." But if that doesn't work, or if he cuts me off before I even say it and goes, "I only treat thyroids" I don't know what I'm gonna do.

I don't like that so much of the fallout lands on my spouse. He lost someone due to this kinda neglect and I do not like hammering his trauma buttons. So I'm venting here, but I don't like doing that either. My problems are so persistent and so stupid that I sound like a scam artist or a nut. (Look, they dropped Agent Orange on my dad and didn't tell him until I was in my thirties. That's at least one big reason my body doesn't work right. I didn't even have a chance.) And he's gonna read this and get upset anyway.

But this is how I'm best able to say things, in text, and I need to say it. Maybe if I practice it here, I'll be able to explain it better to the endocrinologist. Or maybe someone'll see it and tell me some Canadian method of getting rid of an awful doctor that I'm unaware of. Other than waiting for him to get disbarred or die, ya know?

This is essentially the situation I grew up in: the people who are supposed to take care of me don't want to, but they're going to smile and say they are, and any problems I may be having are all my own fault. If I want care, I gotta steal it like Coyote grabbing fire off the gods. 'Cos I need that shit to live. But that takes so much social engineering and effort and I'm so damn tired. I'm not a Trickster or a Hero. I'm hurt. I've been hurt a long time. I ain't never gonna be "normal" but what I've managed to claw out of this broke-ass system proves that I can get better.

If they'd only let me.

[mymarifae]

sooooooo when i jokingly said to myself "haha did ruan mei play aeonic necromancy on tingyun's remains or something" i wasn't expecting that to literally be the case what the fuck

[selvepnea]

Been playing Vampyr lately (not a recommendation)

[sturnsdarling]

‘never have I ever, shared a girl with my brother’

Matt and Chris’ best friend takes an innocent game of ‘never have I ever’ as her opportunity to ask the boys something she’s always wondered

vibe check: THREESOME (obviously no contact between matt and chris the fact that this even needs to be said is insane). dirty talk, softdom!mattandchris, matt the much, double penetration (no lube mentioned but PLEASE USE LUBE i'm so fr), throat fucking (chris receiving), fingering, squirting, titty play, hickies, cream pie, multiple orgasms (i lost count), they both nut inside her (kill me now), cute mini aftercare literally anything you can think of is in this fic dude i could go on forever

5.3k words of pure smut

A/N: the build up/foreplay to the actual smut is basically the scene from challengers because that scene actually changed my life. anyways if you see my search history say anything about how to manifest thought into reality through detailed story writing mind your business.

love and cigs, merc

There was a city wide power outage in LA, you were hanging out at the boys' house with Matt and Chris when suddenly, the TV turned off and the entire house was pitch black. At first you all freaked out, Chris spouting shit about how this is the night you all die and reeling off the game plan for when an intruder comes in, you and Matt were slightly more collected, Matt immediately checking his phone and confirming the power outage whilst you joked along with Chris about how you were going to fight this supposed intruder.

It had been about an hour, Matt had gone to Nicks room to get all his candles and put them on the living room floor, giving you guys some illumination in the dark. Chris was playing music from his phone, feeling grateful for spotify's offline option. You guys had exhausted every talking point, and even Chris was running out of things to say.

At some point between boredom and death, you suggested a game of never have I ever, and the boys reluctantly agreed. You weren't really playing properly because they didn't drink but, at least it was something.

"never have I ever, lost my virginity on a bench in Boston" Matt said, raising an eyebrow at Chris who rolled his eyes, punching his brothers shoulder.

"oh my god, I fuckin' forgot that thats how you lost it!" you laughed uncontrollably, keeling over into the rug on the floor.

"I dunno why you're laughing so much, kid, you've definitely done worse" Chris tutted at you.

"oh yeah? like what?" you said, playful confrontation in your voice.

"d'you remember when I had to come get you from that dudes house because you threw up on his dick?" Matt interrupted yours' and Chris' conversation.

Your eyes went wide and you nearly spat out the soda in your mouth, trying to stifle your laughter.

"I remember that! you had to climb out the bathroom window because you were too embarrassed to go back out" Chris was keeled over in laughter.

"we've all been there" You shrugged, owning your embarrassing mistake.

"no, kid, we haven't" Matt chuckled, looking to Chris who's face was scrunched up in a confused laugh.

"oh, come on? you're seriously telling me you've never had an embarrassing sexual encounter" you pressed.

"none involving vomit" Chris spoke through his laughter

"and none where I had to flee the scene by jumping out a window" Matt added to Chris' taunting.

"whatever, you guys are just boring, you're lucky you have me to keep you entertained with my embarrassing ass life" You rolled your eyes, pretending to be offended.

"to be fair, once I did accidentally punch a girl in the face whilst i was trying to fuck her" Chris said, trying to stifle his laughter.

"how the fuck did you manage that" You burst into hysterics.

"it was every dark and fumbly and I was still basically a virgin, okay? I apologised like fifty times and she still made me leave" Chris said, a boyish sulk taking over his body.

"dude that's not as bad as the time I was this close to a threesome with these girls, and I got so anxious that I told them my dog had just died and ran out half naked" Matt said, pinching his fingers together and huffing

"not my boy trev, thats so deep bro" Chris shook his head, acting disappointed in his brother.

Matt bringing up his near threesome experience made your ears perk up, and a question you had always wanted to ask came flooding back into your brain. You had been friends with the boys for a while and, had shared stories of all of your sexual escapades, some funny, some incredible and some awful, you were all totally open with each other.

But, your whole friendship, you'd always been curious as to whether they'd ever been offered a threesome, or taken someone up on one. You knew that girls would approach them both, but if one had more interest than the other, the other would back off and let his brother do his thing.

You uncrossed your legs, laying them out flat and placing one over the other as you leaned back on your palms, arching your back slightly as you looked between the boys.

"I have another never have I ever" You said, breaking their conversation.

They both looked to you at the same time, their breath hitching in their throat slightly at the sight of your chest being illuminated by the flicker of candle light.

"never have I ever...shared a girl with my brother" you said with complete nonchalance, looking back and forth between the boys.

Chris and Matt side eyed each other and looked back to you, mouths slightly agape at your forward question.

"like, fucked the same girl on different nights?" Chris asked, being the slightly braver of the two.

you shook your head, "like, fucked the same girl, at the same time" your voice was getting more and more seductive without even meaning to.

They looked at each other again, and then back to you, both slightly stunned, and slightly turned on by you even asking them that.

"we've been offered" Matt shrugged, "but we said no"

"why?" you said, sitting up straight now.

"cause I don't really wanna see my brothers face when I'm tryna cum" Chris laughed, looking to matt who made and agreeing face.

"interesting" you raised your brow quickly with a downwards smile

"why's that interesting?" Matt said, an air of seductive curiosity in his tone.

you shrugged, "I dunno, I jus' think you'd probably enjoy it", you pulled your legs into a criss cross under you, "you don't think the idea of fucking a girl who's so horny for you that she needs another version of you, is hot?" you tilted your head at them.

The boys were slightly stunned, they'd never thought about it like that before. Chris shifted where he sat, trying to ignore the blood rushing to his crotch as Matts eyes were trained on you, his tongue pressed to his cheek as you smiled at him smugly.

"well, when you put it like that, I guess it doesn't sound too bad" Chris said, letting his eyes wander over your frame.

"I've got one" Matt said abruptly, you and Chris looked to him, "never have I ever, offered my triplet best friends a threesome" Matt smirked at you.

You rolled your eyes and Chris attention shot straight to you, "I did not offer you a threesome-"

"yes, you did" Matt cut you off

"I simply asked if you'd ever had one" you shrugged, pretending to have no idea what he was talking about.

"yeah, and then proceeded to tell us exactly why we'd like it" Chris raised a brow at you, not realising he was edging closer to you on the floor.

"was I right?" you said, cocking a brow at Chris.

"yeah, you were" Matt answered for him.

Suddenly, the boys had come significantly closer to you, sitting in front of you like two siamese cats waiting for permission to do something. Your attention flitted between them periodically, the tension in the air thick with anticipation.

"so what then? would you say yes, knowing what you know now?" you said, trying to maintain your confidence

Matt smirked menacingly as Chris' brows dropped, pressing his tongue into the side of his teeth and looking to Matt. Matt side eyed him and they both returned their attentions to you.

"depends on who was askin" Chris said, eyes trained on yours.

"are you askin', pretty girl?" Matt muttered, his long fingers coming up to play with a strand of your hair.

The pet name made your stomach flutter, you don't think you'd ever been this turned on in your whole life, the sight of the boys' growing bulges from under their joggers making your mouth water as they both gawked at you, waiting for permission to fuck you exactly how they knew you wanted them to.

You didn't reply, only smiled as you leant forward, pressing your lips against Matts softly. He leaned into the kiss instantly, his hand coming to your face to pull you into him. The kiss was slow and somewhat soft, Matt asking for polite permission to press his tongue against yours with a gentle swipe over your bottom lip. You granted him access, and he pulled you in deeper to him with his hand on your jaw. He led the kiss with a gentle dominance that was slightly surprising from him. Chris watched with a slightly open mouth, watching as your tongue lapped and pressed over Matts, growing increasingly desperate to know what you felt like.

You broke the kiss with Matt, and immediately turned your attentions to Chris, kissing him with the same tenderness that you did Matt. Chris was a lot more feverish than his brother, his tongue entering your mouth instantly as his hand came to cup the under side of your chin. He bit at your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth before soothing the sting with a warm kiss.

You were reeling in the feeling of kissing them both, the differences between them being so apparent, and only serving to make you want to know how else they were different.

You broke the kiss with Chris and sat back with a content sigh, looking between the two of them as they gawked at you with puffy lips and hooded eyes. You smiled, pushing your hair back off your shoulders and letting it hang down your back, exposing your neck to them. The boys looked to each other and, in an instant, they were by your sides, mouths latched around your neck, pressing their tongues against the soft skin, trailing kisses down either side of your neck.

your whole body felt like it was on fire, the sensation of the two of them nipping at sucking at you neck making you whimper slightly. Matt trailed his kisses down your chest, pressing his warm tongue along the curve of your cleavage as it begged to be freed from your tight tank top.

Chris went in the opposite direction, moving his mouth up your jaw and capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss as Matt slowly tugged at the hem of your top.

You pulled at the strap of your vest, letting it fall down your shoulder and giving Matt silent permission to free your tits from their confines. He complied, ripping your tank down with brute force, making your tits bounce free. He instantly latched his mouth around your nipple, biting down on the flesh and soothing the sting with a wet press of his tongue.

You moaned into Chris mouth, and his hand instinctively found the nape of your neck, collecting a handful of your hair and tugging on it, pulling your head back as he rose to his knees, not breaking the kiss.

"you like having us both kiss you like this, huh princess?" Chris said, smirking down at you with his lips brushing over yours.

"mhm" you nodded, your reply coming out in a whimper as Matt continued to work your nipple.

"she said it herself, Chris, she's so horny for us that just one isn't enough" Matt chuckled, palming your tit in his large hand, using his other to tease the hem of your joggers.

You flinched at the touch, a small shiver running down your spine at the sensation of Matts soft fingers teasing your skin.

"so responsive" Matt uttered, his attention focused on how your skin came up in goosebumps under his touch.

"come here, baby" Chris said as he shifted over to rest his back against the sofa, pulling you slightly by your hair.

You obeyed his orders, coming to rest in between his open legs, your back pressed to his. Matt turned to face you both, watching as Chris pried your legs open, raking his hands down the inside of your thighs at an agonising place, moving closer and closer to your throbbing pussy, but stopping before he reached you there.

You whined as Chris moved his hands round to the outside of your thighs, and Matt chuckled at your neediness.

"oh, come on, Chris, look how needy she is for it, just give her a little taste" Matt looked you up and down, his eyes hooded

"you want it, princess?" Chris muttered, his lips pressed to your ear as he hooked his fingers around the top of your joggers.

you nodded, head pressed against Chris' shoulder with your lip tucked between your teeth.

"words, pretty girl, we need words" Matt pushed, leaning forward and squeezing your thigh, inching his hand down your leg.

"yes, please, I want it" you whimpered, picking up your heavy head to look between the boys.

"want what, baby?" Chris said, a smirk wide on his lips as he nipped at your earlobe

"I want you both, I need you both to fuck me, please" you said, desperation thick in your voice.

With that, Chris pushed down your joggers as Matt assisted in lifting your hips up. Matt pulled them down, eyes trained on your covered pussy as sticky juices leaked from between the lace. You were soaked, and he couldn't help but reach forward to touch you.

"look, Chris, she's dripping for us" Matt said, pushing a finger up your covered folds, collecting your wetness on his finger, showing the glistening substance to Chris, who's mouth was once again latched around your neck.

Matt continued to tease your hole, getting down to eye level with your pussy as Chris continued to hold your legs wide open for his brother, your back arching into his chest as Chris sucked purple marks all over your neck, one hand in your hair, the other pressing bruises into your knee. Matts hands pushed you open further for him as he pressed his tongue flat against your throbbing pussy, you released a guttural moan at the sensation, your head rolling back on Chris' shoulder, giving him better access to your neck.

Matt wasted no time, he had had a taste of you and now he was hungry. He pulled your panties to the side and latched his mouth around your pussy, pressing his tongue into your hole as his nose brushed against your clit.

Chris pulled his hand out from your hair and began to palm your tit, still relentlessly attacking your neck with wet, warm kisses and soft bites.

The feeling of Chris working your tits as Matt lapped and sucked at your pussy was euphoric, the moans leaving you borderline pornographic as the boys' groaned at the sound of you whimpering for them. Matt brought a slender finger to your entrance, moving up your pussy to suck on your clit as he slipped his finger into your sopping hole with ease. Almost immediately, you clenched around him, and he inserted a second finger, curling them upwards as he coaxed your orgasm from you.

"that feel good, princess?" Chris muttered in your ear, "you sound so fuckin' pretty when you moan, y'know that?"

All you could do was moan in response, any sense of coherence being ripped from you by the second as Matt lapped at your pussy like a man starved. He was moaning, actually moaning with every clench around his fingers, drinking you in like you were his last meal.

Chris twisted and pinched at your nipples, his grip on your knee never wavering as he held you open for Matt. You turned your head, biting down on Chris' jaw and pressing your tongue against the stubble there, he chuckled, and captured your mouth in a feverish kiss, groaning as you bit down on his plump bottom lip. His hand raked down your inner thigh, pressing and squeezing bruises into the flesh as he pressed his tongue against yours.

Matt sucked on your clit, burying his fingers knuckle deep inside of you and grazing your g-spot with his long fingers. You broke the kiss with Chris with a pornographic moan, your hands flying to Matts hair to push him desperately into your pussy.

"i think that means keep going, Matt" Chris chuckled.

Matt looked up at you, your mouth agape and brows furrowed as he thrust his fingers deep inside your pussy over and over again, his tongue running circles around your puffy clit. You couldn't help but grind against Matts face, and he moaned at the feeling, using his free hand to hold your hip, near enough forcing you to grind against his tongue harder.

Chris pulled at your hair, making you look at him again and locking his mouth around yours, tongue aggressively pressing and pushing against yours as he returned his hand back to palm your tits.

You were a whimpering mess, moaning and crying into Chris mouth as Matt brought you over the edge with his tongue. You covered Matts mouth with your cum, shaking and convulsing above him as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. He unlatched his glistening mouth from yours and helped you ride out your orgasm, watching in awe as you bucked your shaking hips into his hand.

"look how pretty she is when she cums, Chris" Matt said, gaining Chris' attention

Chris broke the kiss and chuckled, watching as you shook against his chest, "the prettiest girl in the world" he muttered, raking his hand down your stomach and pressing the pads of his fingers against your pulsating clit.

You shifted against Chris, whimpering as you felt a wave of hot tingles rush over your body. Matt was curling his fingers inside you relentlessly, begging for more of you, and Chris was rubbing fast circles against your clit, using your own sticky juices as lube for his movements.

Your eyes where clenched shut, head heavy against Chris' shoulder as you bucked your hips into their hands, moaning relentlessly and unable to form a single thought. A second, fast approaching orgasm ripped through you, and you clenched hard around Matts fingers.

"please, please, please" you began to beg, unsure of what you were begging for as your orgasm hit you like a freight train.

You released a wave of juices over Matts hand, squirting up his arm as you lifted your hips, stuttering. Chris pushed you back down, chuckling as he watched you squirm.

When you finally began to come down from our high, the boys slowed their pace and Matt pulled his fingered from you, licking them clean and moaning at the taste of you on his tongue.

"you taste so good, pretty girl" Matt shook his head, pulling off his top with one swift movement.

Chris dipped his fingers in your pussy, inciting a small whimper from you, and pulled them out just as fast, wrapping his arm round you to taste you on his fingers.

"fuckin' delicious" Chris groaned, shifting you forward slightly so he could pull down his shorts, letting his leaking cock slap against his stomach.

You were completely spent already, mind reeling from the shattering orgasms you just experienced, but the sight of the boys undressing for you made you feel increasingly desperate. Chris situated you back against his chest, you were both planted on the sofa and he had lifted you up onto his lap, his cock pressed against your sensitive pussy. Chris pried your legs open once more just after Matt had removed your soaked panties, leaving you totally bare for them.

Chris began to tease your folds with his throbbing cock as Matt freed himself of the rest of his clothes.

"you think you can take us both, princess?" Chris muttered in your ear, his voice cracking with every pump of his cock.

"mhm" you nodded, eyes fluttering at the feeling of Chris teasing your folds with his tip, "I can take it"

"good girl" Matt smirked, coming closer to you and Chris as he pumped his hard length in his hand.

Matt and Chris locked eyes and Matt cocked his head, Chris lifted you up slightly and let his cock slip out the way of your entrance. Matt pressed his tip through your folds, a needy whimper falling from your lips as Chris began to rub slow circles around the entrance of your asshole, preparing you to take them both.

"you ready, beautiful?" Matt said, standing over you with his tip pressed into your folds.

"please, give it to me" you nodded desperately.

Matt smiled a prideful smirk and with your words, pushed his girthy cock inside you. You both moaned at the sensation, Matts hands finding the backs of your thighs as Chris held you open for him. Matt bottomed out inside you, brows knitted together at the tightness of your warm pussy around him.

The feeling of Matt stretching you out, coupled with the slow rubs of Chris' gentle fingers against your hole made you feel light headed, moaning uncontrollably as Chris pushed one, and then two fingers into your gaping hole, using your own wetness as lubrication to slip his long fingers in and out of you. The feeling was unusual, but definitely not bad, the warm touch of them both caressing you as Matt rutted into your seeping pussy at an agonising pace, of Chris fucking his fingers into your asshole, stretching you out perfectly, was genuinely blissful.

You had never felt anything like it, and just as you thought it couldn't get any better, Chris lifted you up slightly, causing Matts dick to slip out of you momentarily. He inched his fingers into your mouth, and teased your hole with his long cock.

"bite down on me, baby, it'll help with the sting" Chris cooed in your ear as he pressed his tip into your clenched hole.

As Chris pushed into you, Matt did the same, thrusting his cock back into your warm pussy. You did just as Chris said, biting down on his fingers as Matt and Chris stretched you out completely. You cried out a moan, the sting only adding to your euphoria as they both began to fuck your gaping holes.

You were completely full of them, being thrust into from every angle as Chris fucked up into your tight asshole, and Matt thrust down into your weeping pussy, Chris fingers in your mouth, and Matts hands pressing bruises into the backs of your thighs.

They were both moaning and muttering, praising nonsense, filling the air with low grunts that were nearly drowned out by the moans that left your throat.

"y'taking us so fuckin' well, pretty girl, so fuckin' well" Matt grunted, planting a hard slap on the back of your thigh, kneading the flesh with soothing touches just after.

"so fuckin' tight around me, baby, fuck, you feel so good" Chris groaned feverishly in your ear, biting down on your lobe as he picked up his pace, fucking into your hole with animalistic passion.

Their praises made your head spin, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your third orgasm of the night.

"m'gonna cum, please let me cum, i'm- i'm- i'm" you were rambling, unable to think straight as the boys continued to fuck your holes.

"cum, baby, cum for us" Matt grunted, pressing his thumb over your puffy clit and rubbing steady circles over it.

"show us how pretty you are when you cum, princess, show me again, I miss it" Chris muttered into your ear, pulling his fingers from your mouth and rubbing wet circles over your nipple.

Your orgasm ripped through you, leaving a white sticky ring all around Matts cock as it leaked from you and down onto Chris' balls. Neither of them stopped their pace, fucking you through your high as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your whole body shaking in white hot euphoria as they filled you up. You were borderline screaming at this point, moaning their names over and over again as your whole body tensed.

"so fuckin sexy" Matt grunted, rutting into you with gritted teeth.

Chris watched as your jaw hung slack, slowing his pace in your asshole and pressing a few long, slow and hard thrusts inside of you.

"I need t'know what that pretty mouth feels like" Chris said, pulling out of you. The sting of him removing himself from your gaping hole being soothed by the cool, wet juices of your sopping pussy.

Matt pulled out, earning a whimper from you at the complete emptiness you felt.

Before you could complain, you were thrown about the sofa, head hanging over the edge with your legs pressed against your chest and your mouth stuffed full.

Matt was pounding into you, holding your legs tight against your chest but just open enough so that he could see your tits bounce as he rutted into you.

Chris had his hands wrapped round your jaw, softly caressing your cheeks as he fucked your open throat.

"you're so good, baby, taking me down your pretty little throat like this as Matt abuses your perfect pussy" Chris cooed softly, watching as tears pricked at your eyes, gagging around his massive cock with every thrust.

You loved it, it was exactly what you wanted. The feeling of Matt rutting into you, stretching you out and hitting your g-spot as Chris pounded down into the back of your throat, looking at you like you were an angel as he made you gag around him, was perfect. You reached a hand down to your pussy, and began to rub fast circles over your clit. Matt near enough growled at the sight, fucking you harder than ever, the sting of his skin slapping against yours only serving to push you closer to the edge again.

"keep doin' that, princess, keep playin' with y'self for me, kay? don't you dare stop" Matt grunted, breathy moans escaping his mouth with every thrust into your clenching pussy.

"you gonna cum, beautiful? you like having your throat fucked so much you'll touch yourself over it?" Chris smirked down at you, his pace into your throat never wavering as he periodically threw his head back, thrusting deep into the back of your throat.

You attempted to nod around him, whimpering and moaning around his cock at the familiar tingly feeling creeping up your spine. Chris moaned your name as he bottomed out in your throat, hips stuttering slightly as he reluctantly pulled out and began to thrust in and out once more.

You were clenching hard around Matt, and he knew you were about to cum, uttering encouraging praises to you in hopes of seeing you cum again. "come on baby, gimme one more, y'so fuckin' perfect, such a good girl, jus' gimme one more"

Your pace on your clit began to falter and you came all over Matts dick, moaning around Chris' length as tears fell from your eyes. The feeling of you clenching so hard around him gave Matt the push he needed, and with a few hard and fast thrusts into your sensitive and spent pussy, he came inside you, fucking his cum into you as he rode out his high, pressing bruises into your thighs as his head hung low on his neck.

"fuck, oh my- fuck" Matt groaned, leaning down and biting down on the bone of your knee, trying to steady his bucking hips as they chased the feeling of your warm pussy leaking his own cum all over his cock.

Your whole body felt limp, you were completely fucked out, and yet, as Chris continued to fuck your throat, you found yourself almost sad at the emptiness you felt when Matt finally pulled out of your throbbing pussy.

"Chris, you gotta feel how fuckin' tight she is, dude" Matt sighed, shaking his head and resting back onto the soft couch to catch his breath.

Chris pulled out from the depths of your throat and gave you a warm smile from your hung position over the sofa. He walked round, grabbing your legs and spinning you round so your thighs were spread for him, ass nearly hanging off the edge of the sofa as Chris lined himself up with your spent hole.

"you think you can take just a lil' more, baby? you wanna let me cum inside you as well?" Chris caressed your thigh with one hand and pumped his cock with the other.

"yes, please, Chris, fill me up jus' like Matt did" you whimpered, spreading your thighs wider for him.

Chris smiled, "such a good girl" pressing gentle touches into your thighs as he pushed his cock deep into your aching hole.

Chris' eyes rolled to the back of his head at the feeling of your tight, warm pussy sucking him in like a vice, "Jesus, fuck" he moaned.

You whined at the stretch, not even close to recovered from the pounding Matt had given you. Tears pricked at your eyes once more and you moaned Chris' name, pressing a desperate hand into his chest.

Matt came up beside you, taking your jaw in his hand gently and pressing a tender kiss on your open mouth.

"you can take it, baby, be a good girl and take it" Matt said softly, caressing your hair as you nodded, eyes fluttery and lips parted.

Chris was fucking into you like he'd never felt a pussy like yours in his life. Every time he pulled out, he was sucked back in by your clenching walls, reeling in the way you felt stretched out around him. Your tits were bouncing with every thrust, and with your tongue pressed against Matts in a needy, sloppy, moan filled kiss, you didn't notice Chris' hips begin to stutter. His pace began to falter as he became a rambling mess, thrusting in and out of you, cursing and moaning your name as you moaned into Matts mouth at the feeling of him effortlessly fucking into your g-spot over and over again with his lengthy cock.

With a final hard few thrusts, Chris' mouth was latched around the curve of your neck, biting down on the muscle as he came inside you, filling you up for the second time that night. He fucked you through his high, pushing his cum deep inside your already cum soaked walls.

Matts hold on you was gentle and grounding, him only pulling away from kissing you when Chris mustered the strength to pull out of your perfect pussy.

Chris reached down to the floor and put on his shorts, throwing Matt his and slumping down on the sofa beside you. You were sandwiched between them, Matts head rested on your shoulder and Chris laying over your stomach, your legs hanging open over the edge of the sofa. They were both panting, tracing small circles on your skin as your whole body relaxed into the soft cushion of the sofa.

You were exhausted, completely spent and desperate for sleep as you felt the boys' cum leak out of your sore pussy.

Matt lifted his head up, hooking his finger under your jaw to make you look at him, "you okay, pretty girl?" he asked softly.

You nodded with fluttery eyes and a weak smile, your hand caressing Chris' soft curls as he laid in your lap.

Matt smiled at you, pressing a gentle kiss on your nose, "you wanna go have a nice warm bath and cuddle up in bed with me n'Chris?"

you nodded again, eyes fluttering closed as you hummed, unable to form a sentence.

The boys helped you up, Chris passed you his t-shirt and helped you put it on, telling you to go easy and let him do everything.

They walked you to the bathroom, Matt holding you against his chest as Chris ran the bath and helped you step in, both of them easing you down into the bubbly warm water.

You sighed at the relief of the warm water covering you, your eyes closing and head rolling back on its hinge for a moment.

Matt was sitting down by the side of the tub, his finger tips tracing soft circles on your shoulders as Chris sat on the counter top, sorting the perfect queue of songs to help you relax as much as possible.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous

[tbaluver]

i loved the aftercared w/ them for the love&deepspace crew, but would love to see what aftercare the reader does for the boys in return. they deserve it & the world. <3 (p.s. pls ignore if you're not accepting requests)

When You Give Them AfterCare- The Love And DeepSpace Men

genre: overall fluff but contains suggestive content, MDNI

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader

a/n: eeee i'm so happy to hear you loved that headcanon! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ you're so right they def deserve it and the world !! i hope you and everybody else enjoys this one as well! <3

any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

There would be times where he would be worn out after you both finished. He would be speechless, sweaty, and still would internally beg for more but his body would be screaming at him that he's tired and you noticed. He might not always have the energy to clean himself up so you'd gently clean him up.

You'd pull him up for a cuddle for a bit, his head rested on your chest. Your fingers would intertwine with his locks, giving his scalp a gentle massage, whispering how he did so well and he did so good.

If it were still early in the evening, you'd pull out your phone but keep it angled downward so he could see the options on what you both might want to order for delivery.

When you tell him that you both need to get up to shower, he'd be a little stubborn because he just does not want to be a second apart. You'd eventually convince him with your protest because you don't love being sticky and sweaty and he doesn't either.

He'll have somewhat of the energy to help you bathe but you insist on doing the work and his sleepy gazed eyes will you as you move around. You'd help pick out the comfiest clothes for him to wear afterwards.

Once your both settled back into bed, he would be super sleepy and he'll still be the big spoon. He would love when you run your hands through his hair to undo any tangles or massage his muscles afterwards or just a mix of all of that while giving him a ton of words of affirmation making him sleep so peacefully in your embrace.

Zayne:

He'll relax into the bed and sigh contently after reluctantly letting you clean him up. His hazy will watch you as you clean him up. You won't notice it but his ears would turn red. Once your done cleaning him up, you up and he's laid out on bed. He looks so good, built like a sculpted god.

You couldn't resist but you crawl towards him, guiding his head to rest against your chest and letting him listen to your heartbeat. He would let you do so as he relaxes against your body for a bit. You would grab his hand, kissing the backside of his knuckles as you tell him he did so well.

You would lead him to the bathroom, helping him wash, dry, and pick out comfy clothes for him. You would lead him back to your shared bed but not going in with him just yet. He would tug your wrist back in confusion, eyebrows furrowed. You would explain to him to give you a few minutes and you'll be right back.

You would come back with small healthy snacks and a cup of water and he would be melting at your small actions. You two would discuss small or deep conversations with your snacks before cleaning up and getting comfortable in bed.

Once you put away your snacks and your both cuddled in bed, your forehead rests against his. It would quiet now, just the steady sounds of both your breathing. Just the peacefulness and calmness made it feel like it was just only the two of you in your own world. You would trace the outline of his jaw before pulling him into a sweet passionate kiss as he would melt into your touched feeling oh so loved.

Rafayel:

He's always clingy even after sex and he always just wants to be within your reach and have you hold him afterwards. He loves when you play and brush tangled knots out of his messy hair as it would feel so calming.

He usually doesn't ask for it, mostly jokes about it, but he loves when you clean him up. He loves when you give him a lot of praise, reassurance, and kisses, or even just a mix of all of that. He loves hearing how you tell him how he did so well for you.

Obviously loves to bathe with you. This time he'll sit pressed back against you while your hands rub his shoulders. "You should do this more often. I think I like being taken care of." He would joke around.

Does not let you leave his proximity so he'll follow you around while you hold his hand to the kitchen as you chop up his favorite fruits. You two would have some small chit-chat and joke around before going back to your shared bedroom.

When both of you are back in bed, you would rest your chin on the crown of his head, giving him a couple of kisses as he holds you close and his hands are pressed against your back. He would nuzzle into your chest as you both drift off to sleep.

Sylus:

Once you'd remove the handcuffs from his wrists, you'd massage them and kiss over the red marks and help clean him up before cuddling down into him.

If he let you be the dominant one and if it were a rough session, you would give him a massage or tend any bruises, marks, scratches, or aches he's received. You would find the ointment or creams that he would usually use on you to apply on him.

However if it was in general, he'd quirk a brow with a small smirk forming on his lips, realizing what you were doing. He'd let you continue anyway because lowkey he likes seeing you take care of him. He'll let you move or guide him around to help him get comfortable or clean up any scratches on his skin.

He'll murmur how much he loves you and thanks you as you do so. Sometimes you didn't need to verbalize your 'i love you's' because from the small actions he's received from you, he already knew.

Once you helped him wash and dry up, you both would be snuggled into your shared bed. Although he would never give up his role as the big spoon, one of his favorite positions is being intertwined with you. Your legs knitted together and holding you so close that he's practically melting into your warmth and love.

[moonlight-prose]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 01. IN DREAMS WE REST

a/n: i've been stressed about this fic probably more than any other i've ever written. not because it's logan per se, but because wade wilson makes me want to rip my hair out. i love that bastard, but writing him feels like pulling teeth. i'm in love with this concept solely for the angst, so if you see more throughout and wonder if they will ever get a happy ending, please know i'm dead inside. enjoy!

summary: stuck in another universe and unsure of where he stands, logan expects things to even out as they always did. but when you cross his path and you have no idea who he is, he's in for a rude awakening.

word count: 5.9k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, wade wilson breaking the fourth wall, angst, cussing so much cussing, alcohol consumption, grief, pain, a broken man pretending he's not broken, chance encounters, awkward conversations, hope.

NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

He can hear it when he sleeps.

Their screams.

The constant ring of agony that chimes out like a bell, an alarm he never set for himself. A joke once told to him in the midst of World War II, as bullets flew by him and soldiers lost their lives each second of each day. There's no escape from hell. No running from the devil that nipped at his heels the faster he went, the longer he tried to navigate a way free.

There's no escape from the memories that ate away in his mind. Multitudes of them, of the faces he once called family, the people he used to love. They were his punishment. The boulder he continued to roll up the hill, day after day after day. Until eventually...he was crushed by his own self-hatred.

"Logan." The voice whispered long enough for him to grasp who it might be, yet never louder than a mere breath of air.

He clung to it some days. Sunk his claws into what little of his past remained good and allowed it to fill him with some amount of peace. At least then he'd be able to bear this weight, this grief he could never quite name.

Something light brushed across his cheek. Tickling the skin enough to send a flare of irritation down his spine, but the dreams held him in their grasp. What came next never surprised him. He expected it at this point—longed for it. The distant pain of losing what once made him whole; the entirety of his life now defined by one single moment he could never change.

"He sleeps so sweetly. I just want to curl up in his arms and have him read me bedtime stories."

"He's not gonna like that when he wakes up."

"Zip it Al. If I wanted an opinion, I'd go see a Hollywood therapist."

A scoff echoed in the background. "No therapist wants you on their couch."

"Not true. I hear Ryan Reynolds has a great one."

"Who?"

"Not the point." The feather dusted across Logan's face again, soft enough to keep him asleep yet annoying enough to bring a smile to Wade's face. "I wonder if he's dreaming about killing bad guys. They say it's good for the soul."

"Who the fuck is they?"

Wade laughed. "Oh you know. Them. The readers. And boy howdy do they love their blood."

Every day he was forced to listen to Wade's voice became another day Logan dragged his claw through a tally mark of his sanity. "Do you ever shut the fuck up," he growled, gripping Wade's wrist until he heard the satisfying crack of bones.

"Only when I swallow."

"I'll tear your fuckin' arm off."

The smile on Wade’s face only added another tally. "Nice kitty. No need for the claws."

Anger washed across his skin in a familiar wave as he released Wade's arm, watching it go limp. Trying to kill the unkillable walking irritation was like trying to swat a fly that never quite died. It still buzzed incessantly. Until eventually madness was the only viable option of dealing with it. In his case, he seemed to be driving head on with no brakes.

Logan wasn't sure he possessed enough sanity left within him to keep dealing with this. Sleeping on the couch didn't help the way his body never rested; always stuck in that permanent fighting mode. He'd give anything to find some peace. A small sliver of it carved off the past that continued to call him—that begged him to come back and try again.

Swinging his legs off the couch, he planted a swift kick to Wade's chest that sent him across the floor. The lack of caffeine in his system left everything hazy and half coherent. If he focused he might have caught the keys thrown at him, but being exhausted and sober didn't make for a good combination with him. An empty whiskey bottle lay discarded on the floor from last night; the memories of how he passed out barely tinged on the edge of his mind.

He could recall stabbing Wade in the leg.

Nothing beyond that.

Dried blood—now an ugly brown—stained his white shirt. He nearly stripped himself of it, prepared to throw it in with whoever was washing next, but his flannel being chucked at his head caught him off guard.

"Fuck off," he snapped, stumbling to the kitchen.

Wade sighed, following him. "Get dressed, peanut. We have to go do human things today."

"Human–”

"Food," Al retorted. "We're out."

Even in a new universe, he couldn't see himself acting normal. For so long he did what had to in order to survive. Yet now...he wasn't so sure. Accompanying Wade Wilson in order to complete household chores left a bad taste in his mouth. But the thought of fresh coffee and an unopened bottle of whiskey sounded like sweet silver bells in his head.

With reluctance, he buttoned up half of the flannel before he became annoyed with the small size of the holes punched into the fabric. There was only so much he could do with the life he had now. And sometimes shit really sucked.

"Don't scratch my fucking car," Al pointed her words towards Wade, thankfully ignoring Logan's existence for a brief moment.

"Is it safe for her to own a car?"

The door shut behind him with a bang, echoing down the vacant hallway. He was surprised people actually lived here given Wade's antics. They could hear the loud mouthed fucker across the street—if the angry notes in the mail were anything to go by. He didn't bother asking if he should be concerned with any of it. Not when he had no say in how the house was run. And choosing to insert himself where he wasn’t needed, rarely went well for him.

"God no. But I give her the benefit of the doubt. She hasn't killed anyone. Yet."

He yanked the keys out of Wade's hand. "Yeah well I don't trust you either Bub."

The car didn't leave room for his legs as he squeezed into the driver's side. His body practically folded in half as he turned it over—the rumble of the engine rattling against metal. How Blind Al managed to pay for this vehicle went beyond even Wade's knowledge, and in all honesty…he was too fucking scared to ask.

Too much seemed to be happening for him to ever catch up. While this Earth felt similar to his, small things were different. And when they began to add up...he began to wonder if he was drowning.

"Turn left to merge onto the asscrack of traffic."

He barely heard the directions as he drove, his mind drifting the further they went. Part of him sensed the grief from earlier begin to claw up the back of his throat. It begged him to fall, to be swallowed whole by the darkness he'd been stuck in before. And he nearly gave in; could feel his body shift into its constant mode of fight or flight.

The steering wheel cracked under his white knuckled grip as Wade's voice became an afterthought to the war he fought in his mind. Terror trapped itself in his throat and he slammed his foot on the brakes a foot away from a parking spot in retaliation. The car lurched forward, his claws descended. A snarl rumbled in his chest the longer he sat there thinking.

"Woah..." For the first time in days, Wade fell silent. "You alright?"

Logan ripped himself free, shoving his body out of the car before he even threw it in park. He gulped in breath after breath and did his best to wait for this fucking feeling to leave his system. The nightmares only came as he slept. A constant familiar horror show after two centuries.

Yet now he was left like this. Leaned up against a car, his eyes closed shut, and heart racing.

All because he couldn't do his fucking job.

"Logan–"

He snapped, shoving past Wade and his pity that choked him with a vengeance. He didn't deserve anyone's pity. He didn't want it. But people couldn't help but hand it over unconsciously. As if they could see the layers of broken pieces beneath his false expression of strength. Logan never pretended to be okay. Why bother with something people could see right through?

He merely wanted others to ignore he was there. Walk past him, look through him, do whatever it took to pretend that him and all his tragedies weren't standing before them. Because one day he would die and fuck how he couldn't wait for that time to come.

A small hole in the wall dive bar sat in the corner of the shopping center. He barely caught sight of it. But the unmistakable scent of alcohol poured out the door as someone stumbled out—their eyes squeezed shut against the harsh brightness of the sun. He could understand them in a way.

His world didn't have sunlight this bright. Or perhaps he never noticed it ‘til now.

Maybe his body wasn't acclimated yet; unsure of what the fuck was still happening. Everything seemed to be turned up to eleven for him, yet no off switch existed.

The dark hazy glow of the interior sent a wave of calm through him as the door swung shut with a soft thud. Four people sat scattered around the place and a bartender with white and graying hair stood cleaning a glass so foggy it was probably better to throw it out. He found himself letting out a breath that'd been trapped in his chest since that morning. Finally some peace before he had to listen to Wade yap about bullshit he didn't in fact give a shit about.

"What'll you have?" the old man asked, his face screwing up in a wince as he limped towards Logan's spot at the end of the bar.

A quick glance down let him see the brace wrapped around the man's knee. "Whiskey on the rocks."

He nodded, slowly heading towards the center of the wall—a lonesome half empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter. Logan shifted, taking the center seat directly behind the man.

"I can't say I've seen you around before son."

He grinned, his finger tracing a random carving that'd been placed in the wood. "I just moved here. Living with a coworker."

"Coworker huh?"

The word didn't sound right to Logan, but he couldn't exactly call Wade his friend. Although they were more than people who fought together, more than men who shared blood during the same battle. That was the thing about Logan though. He'd never be able to put a label on something like that. To him...things weren't one or the other as much as he wanted to pretend they were. There was nuance to his life.

Complications which made living that much harder.

The man turned, surprised to see Logan so close, but didn't make note of it. Logan could see the gratitude in the way his drink was slid carefully to him. The small silent thank you in the bowl of pretzels placed beside it.

"You look lost."

Logan grunted, biting into the salty and dry snack. "Do I?"

"More than some of the others that come around here."

"And who comes around here?"

The man laughed. "No one as of late. You're the first young man I've seen in a while walk through those doors."

He bit back his laugh at the word young. The stories he could tell would leave the man baffled. About wars that no living person had witnessed. About when the world was far different than today—when mutants were freaks of nature and humans were far less forgiving. He could list it all and then some.

But whether or not someone would listen was another thing entirely.

"This place that old?" he inquired, sipping on the amber liquid with a contented sigh.

"Oh you bet." A weary laugh filled the space. "I bought this place in the sixties. When my wife was still my girlfriend. She almost left me because of it."

Logan huffed, his lips curling slightly. "She wasn't a fan?"

The man shook his head, tossing a cloth over his shoulder. "Still isn't. Well she...wasn't." He pressed his thumb to the worn gold band on his left hand. "When she was alive she used to host a book night. Helped bring in the men's wives. Kept them outta trouble."

"Book night huh?"

"She loved to read."

Before he could down the final sips of his drink it was topped off. Logan nodded his head in thanks, his thumb digging into the thumbprint shape of the glass. If he thought about it hard enough, he could almost see himself coming here every night. He pictured a life far different than his own, a past where he might have been happy. With someone who might have even made him smile.

"I'm not much of a reader," he replied, his voice hoarse and eyes fixed on the ice that floated to the surface.

"Ah me too," the man laughed. "I just liked seeing her smile."

A soft remark was on the tip of his tongue before an entirely new image began to take shape. The face of someone lost. Of a smile he'd known better than his own. Hands that once held his face with the tenderness of a lover—a voice that sent the hair rising on the back of his neck. He could see it as clear as he did the man.

You in all your beauty. Lost to a past he could no longer rectify.

He swallowed thickly, beating back every emotion that crawled under his skin. "What's your name?"

"Travis."

Raising his glass, he tipped it towards the man with a tight grin. "Logan." The alcohol went down with a quick and biting burn. A feeling he'd grown familiar with. One he counted on.

"Nice to meet you Logan."

"Yeah you too."

He dug out some cash and tossed it on the bar as he stood with a slight grunt. He may heal quickly but the ache in his bones still existed. As if something resisted against how his body moved with each slow shift.

Fighting meant he could ignore it.

Existing is what made it worse.

The sun practically burned his eyes when he stepped out, the heat of the day encompassing his whole body quicker than he would have liked. For some unknown fucking reason, summer here felt worse than on his Earth. Then again the alcohol didn't help. He stood in the shade of the building next to the bar, searching the parking lot for any sign of Wade.

Going into the store wasn't an option and as much as he wanted to leave the annoyance behind, he didn't want to feel like a piece of shit. That is...even more than he already did.

"Fuck," he hissed, leaning against the brick wall. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

One option would be taking a walk to work off the energy that ran through his veins. At least then he'd be able to sleep at night. And the temptation almost worked. If it weren't for the shop doors that opened to his left, effectively distracting him from the chance of leaving. He could have ignored the person, probably should have given everything he'd been through.

But then his heart dropped to his stomach as you walked out. He'd never seen you in such a soft sundress before, the off white fabric draped off your curves in a way that floored him. As if you were an angel floating by without a care in the world. You were busy shoving a small piece of paper in your purse, your face furrowed in frustration, and Logan smiled. Because he'd traced each line of that face before, he'd kissed those cheeks, your eyelids as you slept.

He'd loved you in ways that would scare a normal human.

And there you were.

"Honey?" he called, unconsciously following you quicker than he intended to. "Honey."

You glanced to the side, completely unaware of the giant lumbering man trailing after you with a soft look on his face and hope in his hands.

That alone tore him in two more than the memories from before.

"Baby, it's me."

The breeze finally went through the air, pushing the skirt of your dress a bit higher on your thighs. Except that's not what he latched onto. Your scent was different. Unlike any he'd encountered before. Honey still sweetly caressed his senses, but flowers overlayed that—peonies if he guessed. Delicious enough to have his mouth watering; his body already aching for you to be closer. To look at him in the way you used to.

He wanted to call out to you—gain your attention properly—but your name wouldn't leave his tongue. Because you were there and you finally caught sight of him and you were looking at him as if nothing bad ever happened between the two of you.

You saw him as a man.

Not a disappointment.

He willed himself to stop and breathe. Take in his surroundings; realize that you weren't who he once knew. You weren't even the same fucking person.

But before he could think straight, he'd already followed you halfway to your car. His eyes were dazed, heart nearly throttling him alive as he stood there dumbly. Waiting for you to finally speak.

"Oh..." Your heart rate spiked quicker than he expected. He couldn't find it in himself to feel bad though. "Hello?"

"Honey," he sighed, the weight on his shoulders lifting ever so slightly.

He caught the way your fingers tightened around your keys, the defense mechanism an instinct by now. And Logan realized what he looked like. A strange man standing too close for your liking. So he took a step back and gave you some space. In the hopes that you wouldn't see him as a threat. That maybe...you'd listen to what he had to say.

"Can I help you?" you asked, eyes darting around the parking lot in case you needed help.

What he wouldn't give for the opportunity to reassure you. To explain that he wasn't here to hurt you. That he'd kill himself before even laying a hand on you. Yet the correct words were lost and all he seemed to get out was an incoherent babble that had him wanting to dig his own claws into his chest.

"You smell different."

You straightened your spine, eyes narrowed into a glare he felt burn across his skin. "Look, I don't know who you are. But fuck off."

Something akin to pride flared in his chest at your tone, your words. But he couldn't show it externally. How would he explain that your fight—your fire—is what drew him to you in the first place? How could he tell you about a version of yourself you'd never know? A person he thought would be with him until his last breath exhaled into the world.

"I'm not here to hurt you." He raised his hands in an attempt to prove his point, but like your variant counterpart you were willing to bite first and ask questions later.

"Yeah. Sure asshole." The shopping bag in your other hand was lifted up, until you had a tighter grip on it in case something happened. You didn't know him. You probably never would.

But Logan had to try. He owed it to you to give it all he had this time around.

Otherwise...what was the point of living?

"My name's–" He made the wrong move stepping forward and knew it the second his boot hit the gravel. With a wince, he watched you stumble back against your car, your arm coming up to protect yourself. "No. Look I'm not gonna do anything–"

"Get the fuck away from me," you spit.

He moved back as if approaching a wounded animal—his body finally on edge in a new way. The fact that you didn't know him wasn't what broke off another chunk of his heart. He could handle that. He'd been through that.

You were afraid of him.

That realization dug in too deep for his body to heal.

That...he couldn't live with.

"WOAH hey!" He'd never appreciated Wade's irritating ass more than in this moment. He jumped between the two of you, the cart of groceries forgotten as he blocked Logan from your sight. "Step away from the nice lady wolf boy." Wade regarded you with a smile. "Hi! Sorry. This is my uncle and well as you can probably tell he's lost eight of his lives. So we're going on little old nine. And well the mind just goes to shit first."

Seconds passed by like minutes and Logan watched you visibly deflate. "Wade," you greeted him, visibly calmer than before. Logan felt his stomach twist violently at the thought. "It's good to see you. How's the job?"

"Oh yup you know. Left that. But I'm really pushing through. I've got an Etsy store where I sell miniature paintings of Michael Angelo's David's penis. So there's that."

Your laughter sent a hole through his chest and Logan bit back the growl that rose up the back of his throat. What the fuck was Wade doing making friends with you? Why were you laughing at his humor?

He couldn't count how many days he'd spent longing to hear your laugh again, the shine in your eyes that always came around when joy flooded your bloodstream. He could smell the honey off your skin, the warmth of what no doubt lay beneath your thin dress. And he wanted to rip Wade to pieces knowing that he was the one making it happen. That you were comfortable with a man who's mouth ran at a mile a minute.

"Did your sister have the baby yet?"

You brightened and Logan felt his heart stutter. "She did! A boy."

"Named Wade I hope."

Another peal of laughter had Logan's claws itching to descend as you ignored he was there. "Theo actually. A cutie."

"Aww." Wade moved closer, head bent to see the small polaroid you pulled out of your wallet. "Wow, he looks like you'd find him in a Gerber's advertisement."

Your eyes drifted up, past Wade's shoulder, until you finally caught Logan's gaze. And he felt like he could breathe. Every ounce of fear was wiped from your face; interest now creeping in as you dragged your eyes down his form. Past the slight peek of chest hair and down to how his jeans hugged his hips. Logan stood taller for your benefit, as if he needed to make a good impression.

He wanted to linger in your mind for days. Until the curiosity ate you alive.

"We're gonna go," Wade announced, after grabbing your bag and placing it in your trunk for you. "Someone has to feed the blind woman in my apartment. She tends to root through everything looking for food." He gripped Logan's arm, shoving him back a good few feet. Even as your eyes still remained glued to his face. "Glad to see the Hyundai is still working. You know you could take the fattest fucking nap in the back of that puppy. Makes you feel like an Egyptian mummy."

"Bye," you said, a dazed look in your eyes as Logan smiled in your direction. At ease with the knowledge that even in a different universe, he could still fluster you with a look.

Dragging himself away from you was hell, but Wade's grip remained unbreakable as they clambered to the car. The groceries stacked in the small backseat.

He could glimpse you driving off and suddenly the nightmare from earlier was the last thing on his mind.

Wade's back hit the wall with a crack before the door could shut properly. The groceries in their hands toppled to the floor. He barely had time to duck before Logan's claws were aiming for his head—a snarl ripping from his throat.

"What the fuck?" Wade shouted, grabbing the paper bag and gently setting it on the table. "Next time just say you need to stay home and find some joy in an empty room and your hand."

"How do you know her?"

Wade smiled, assessing the furious state of chaos Logan was now left in. The tatters of his stability falling to the floor around him. For as much as he held himself together, it certainly remained easy enough to tear him a part.

"Got an eye on someone, do we honey badger?"

Logan grimaced, running a hand down his face. "Would you just fucking tell me?"

"Let me bask in this Logan. I'm about to watch a romcom come to life and need some popcorn." He rummaged through the bag, yanking out some chips. "Salty and sweet. That'll do."

"Wade," he bit out.

"Stick with us girls, we're about to get to the good stuff."

"WADE!"

He tossed the bag to the table, eyeing the way Logan never quite settled. "I'm gonna take a guess and say we know her more than just friendly hellos."

Logan couldn't answer because his grief did it for him. He did what he could to catch his breath, to stop seeing his version of you. The disappointment on your face, the pain in your voice. You'd been so angry with him. To watch the person he loved be reduced to a screaming crying mess wasn't something he wanted to relive, but Wade's question seemed to send an avalanche toppling to the ground.

"She's..." He sucked in a breath. "On my world. I...knew her."

"Knew her? Or knew her."

He reached for the bottle of whiskey Wade threw in with the rest of the groceries and popped it open before he spoke again. "It didn't end well between us. None of it did."

Wade fell silent and Logan found himself loathing the quiet more than the sound of his voice. If he was joking Logan could ignore it. He could pretend nothing happened. That you weren't here, you couldn't be hurt by him again.

You were safe from his destructive tendencies as long as you were in another universe.

"She lives across the street." Logan's head rose and whipped to see the window that faced the building across from them. "The old uncultured shit whistles that keep complaining about WHAM! the greatest thing to happen to music. They're her neighbors. Live right next door."

"Neighbors."

Wade nodded, offering him a chip. "She found their note and angel that she is, she very sweetly threatened to get them evicted. I offered to let her borrow my katanas but was rejected like younger me on prom night. You've really got yourself a catch there buddy."

Logan didn't need Wade to tell him how fucking lucky he was. He knew that the second you walked out of that store. You were everything good in his life at one point, everything he couldn't save. There wasn't much keeping him going on his old Earth, but having you made all the suffering he went through—all the pain he endured—worth it.

If you were waiting for him at the end, he'd do it all over again.

"So you want to take a dip in that honey huh? Taste that rainbow?"

His claws would have sunk into Wade's throat if a knock hadn't sounded at the door. With a huff, he stepped into the kitchen, the bottle clutched tightly in his hand. Whoever decided to give Wade some luck was of no concern to him.

Or so he believed.

"I didn't mean to accidentally take your groceries," you laughed, handing over a overpacked paper bag.

Stuffing the bottle under the sink, he met you halfway to the living room, his eyes drinking in the sight of you still in that dress. Still delicate enough for him to rip if he tugged it right. Heat curled along the base of his spine when your eyes met his, wide and glimmering with your laughter. He felt himself crumple at the sight of your lips parting, the surprise at his size still enough to make you speechless.

"Good to see you again," he greeted you, voice low and soft.

You didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, but something about the way his gaze devoured you within seconds left you breathless. The swooping sensation in your stomach became too much to handle. Desire and attraction weren't unknown concepts to you. But this felt like more. You could sense him right down to your bones and it scared the shit out of you.

"Oh right!" Wade scooched past you to swing an arm around Logan's shoulders. He did what he could to not stab him in the stomach. "This is Logan. My hunky new roommate."

Logan groaned. "Alright–"

"No, no it's good. You remember when I was declared basically the savior of the universe?"

Your face screwed up in confusion. Logan had never wanted to kiss someone more.

"Marvel...Jesus right?"

"I prefer MJ. Since I've got a Peter." Wade's head whipped to the side. "Suck it Tom Holland." His grip on Logan tightened. "This walking People's Sexiest Magazine helped. We're talking big claws, abs you just want to lick whipped cream off of–"

Logan's elbow slammed into Wade's stomach—crimson slowly tinting the tips of his ears. "That's enough."

"AND the Wolverine."

Surprised etched itself onto your face even further. Until you finally regarded Logan with a look he'd seen once before. Awe. When you first met one another in the halls of the mansion, you stared at him that exact way. As if you couldn't quite believe that iconic figure the X-Men made him out to be actually existed.

He couldn't tell if he liked it. Or if he'd rather you view him as a stranger.

"Logan," he said, offering his hand to you politely. Your skin remained as soft as he remembered.

Warmth bloomed in your body at the feeling of his calloused palm overwhelming yours, the scars across his knuckles old and ancient. Yet you found yourself wanting to trace them over and over, until the sight of them seared in your mind. You fought the urge to press your lips to them, etch your own mark into his skin. Something told you he wouldn’t mind.

Logan could see the intrigue on your face—the distracted gaze he wanted to keep in place. You were still curious. Still willing to learn about him. To pick him a part with soft words and even softer touches.

"Logan," you murmured under your breath, your eyes catching his. He felt his stomach leap at the sound of your voice whispering his name. Memories flooding his mind quicker than he expected. Of mornings spent in bed, your skin pressed against his. Of nights alone in his cabin—your stories lulling him to sleep.

Everything he willed himself to forget, yet could never truly let go of.

"I've got to head back." Disappointment filled your heart at the thought of not getting a chance to talk to him more. He had yet to let go of your hand and you found you liked his touch on your skin. "I'll see you soon Wade."

"Logan will be more than happy to walk you back," Wade replied, waving drastically behind your back. "Can't have you getting hurt now can we? Right peanut?"

You smiled. "I'm just across the street."

"I don't mind," Logan cut in, glaring at Wade to shut the fuck up.

"Okay," your voice was soft. Happy.

Logan would have done anything to keep it that way.

The walk back wasn't long enough for him to explain his actions from earlier, but you seemed to be just as smart as your variant self. Shutting the building's door, you turned to him—your dress fluttering in the breeze. Logan choked on his spit at the slight peek of your ass before you pushed the skirt back down around you.

"Did you know me?" You lead him to the corner, waiting for the traffic to die down. "On your Earth."

He paused, his eyebrows pulling together, and for a moment you wondered if you asked the wrong question. Wade told you bits and pieces of what happened since you last saw him, but Logan's background wasn't a discussion you tried to seek out. All you knew was that Wade acquired a new roommate. Not even a name.

Certainly not that he was Wolverine.

"Yes," Logan muttered, glancing at the change in lights.

You started to walk. "In what way?"

His hands curled into fists—echoes of his past rising to the surface. "We were...friends. You're a professor."

"A professor?" you exclaimed, a smile tugging on your lips. "Am I a mutant?"

He nodded. "You're able to bend time. Or control it." He snorted, following your lead towards your building. "I could never understand it. But Charles did."

The walk up to your apartment was silent, your thoughts filled with the new information he'd given you. And no matter how hard you tried to picture it, you couldn't see yourself as a mutant. A powerful being that held the ability to manipulate time who just so happened to be a professor. Somehow even thinking about it made you wonder why Logan was bothering to entertain this version of you. When the better one existed on his Earth.

"You said were."

Stopping at your door, he nearly knocked into you. "Hm?"

"Were friends. What happened?"

The answer he couldn't give you. The words he wouldn't even admit out loud to himself.

He felt his heart twist as if a knife slowly carved through his spleen. "We uh..." He coughed. "You..."

"I don't have to know." Grasping gently onto his arm, you offered a warm smile he felt down to his toes. A look he hadn't seen in quite some time. Logan could picture the last day you were happy in his head. Laughing with Charles in his office as you shared dinner, working on theories of your powers late into the night.

A week before they came.

"It's good to see you like this," he breathed, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek before stopping midair. "Happy."

Your eyebrows knit together. "I wasn't happy?"

"No." What he wouldn't give to take that information back, but it was out in the open, and as always—he remained too late.

"Why?" you asked, your hand sliding down to his much to his delight.

"I made you a promise." He sucked in a breath, his body begging him to start running. You'd be better off if you never knew. If you never remembered him in the first place. "I couldn't keep it."

I'll always keep you safe.

Words he refused to say again.

How could he promise this version of you that? How could he look you in the eyes and lie again? Breaking his Earth's you would haunt him for the rest of his life. He couldn't fathom doing it all over. It would kill him.

Except you weren't the person in his mind. You weren't the mutant who hated him with every fiber of your being. You were you. A continuous surprise that left his heart stuttering in his chest each time you looked his way. An enigma he found himself wanting to unravel.

"Maybe this time around you can," you said softly, letting him go with a smile as you entered your apartment, effectively opening the wound in his heart so wide there was no saving him.

Although he now knew something he didn’t know before.

He didn’t want to be saved.

[nahoyasboyfriend]

Helping hand

Warnings: shameless smut, handjob, unprotected sex, rough sex.

Word count: 2.4k

Tagging: @doll3tt33 @fear-is-truth @coentinim

A/N: this is literally pure filth. I'm not sure what possessed me to write this, but I did. Sorry for any typos or bad writing.

Staying up late with Kyle had become sort of a routine. Sleeping didn't always come easy to you, and getting Kyle to bed without you was always a struggle. Sitting with your legs crossed on the bed, you ponder over what you should do. It couldn't be too loud and it had to be something you were certain he'd enjoy. You glance at him for a moment, he was laying down on the floor watching something on his ipad, so he was occupied for now.

You grabbed your laptop, blankly staring at the screen while you skimmed over your options. Then it hit you— a movie! You could put on a movie. After five minutes of scrolling, you decide to put on a cheesy comedy. you were more of a horror movie enjoyer, but you figured Kyle wouldn't like it. He was a sensitive boy, now more than ever, and you didn't want to stress him out. Especially after the whole being brought back to life ordeal.

"Kyle, honey, come here," you gently call out, placing the laptop on the edge of the bed so you could lay down. You could hear the creak of the floorboards as he slowly ambled to you. He laid down next to you, throwing his arm over you to pull you closer. Stuck in his hold, your hand slapped around until you found the edge of the covers, slinging it over the two of you. You settled in, squirming around until you were comfortable, and then you pressed play.

The plan had been to watch the movie, and then head to bed, but that was ruined when not even ten minutes in he kept shifting. “Ky, what's wrong?” You whisper, tearing your eyes away from the screen to look at him. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth and his eyebrows knit together in discomfort. “H-hurts,” he murmured. You sat up, gently removing the cover from the two of you. “Where does it hurt, kyle?”

He propped himself up until he was sitting on his knees. Confused, you watched silently wondering what he was trying to show you. Maybe he had scraped his leg, or he had a bruise. His lack of motor skills was a major downside of being frankensteined back together. "Here," he grunted, looking down at his pants. You followed his gaze until you were meant with the obvious bulge in his pants. Oh.

Unsure of what to do, you just sat there. Shit. Should you help him? Would helping him be the right thing to do? Seemingly annoyed at your lack of response, he took your hand placing it over his groin. He whined at the desperately needed contact, rolling his hips. "Touch, p-please."

This quickly snaps you out of your thoughts, it’s hard to worry about the consequences when he’s so needy. "Are you sure?" You ask, just to check, accidentally pushing his boundaries was never something you wanted to do. He nods, and you start to unzip his pants. Despite the initial struggle, you're finally able to get his pants down, revealing the blue boxers he had on underneath. His precum stains the fabric, making a sizable dark patch.

"Poor boy, you must be so worked up" you coo, running a finger over the length of it. Kyle's pupils swallow the already deep brown of his eyes as he watches you. Meeting his intense gaze is enough to make you look down again, goosebumps pricking at your skin.

With more zeal than before, your fingers hook the band of his boxers, slowly pulling them down. His cock bounces free, hitting his stomach, and you have to stare for a moment. The tip is flushed pink and precum drips from the slit like a broken faucet. Your eyes slowly trail up his body, from his stomach, to the scar wrapped around his neck, till you're finally looking him in the face. His cheeks are ruddy, his lips parted ever so slightly, and he has this look in his eyes like nothing matters but you at the moment. Maintaining eye contact, you gingerly wrap your fingers around it.

He lets out an airy sigh, that you assume is of relief. You carefully start to move your hand up and down. You watch his eyes slowly flutter shut, and revel in the way pathetic whines begin to fall out of his mouth. To ease the friction, you let a glob of spit dribble onto the tip, using your hand to coat his entire length in your drool. His cock twitches in your hand. He must be close, you think. You work your hand faster, trying to push him to the edge as quickly as you can, but suddenly he's pulling your hand away, shaking his head.

"n-need you," he mewls, finger latching onto the band your shorts trying to tug them down. Throwing all caution to the wind, you oblige. You yank down your shorts and panties, throwing them on the floor. You crawl to him, tossing your legs over his thighs to straddle his lap. His hands fly to your hips, rucking up your oversized shirt to reveal your chest. He stares at you with wide, pleading eyes, silently begging for permission. Once you give a quiet go ahead, he’s instantly taking your nipple into his mouth. It's an odd sensation. His tongue is cool against your warm skin.

You let out a soft whine, and lift a hand to cradle the back of his head. You card your fingers through his hair, while you mutter soft praises, gently rocking yourself against his aching cock, but not letting it slip inside. His arms were wrapped around your middle, pulling you closer to him, like he wanted to be in your skin. You both stay like this for a while, soaking each other in. While it wasn't enough to get you off, you decided that was fine, and instead focused on getting him off. You were trying to make him feel good after all. You could help yourself later.

You were sure he could have came like this, and he seemed to realize that too because he reluctantly wrenched himself away from mouthing at your boob to line his aching cock with your slit. But he was clueless and couldn't quite get it so with a loving smile, you gently took his hand in yours and directed it to where it needed to go.

You slowly sink onto his cock, taking him inch by inch. You got about halfway before you decided to take a second and let yourself adjust to the size. Placing his hands on your hips, he forced you down. You let a startled gasp because of the abrupt fullness. The stretch burns, and he doesn't let you adjust before he begins to buck up into you.

You rest your hands on his shoulders for support, slightly digging your nails in to deal with the ache. You can barely gain your bearings with the way he forces you to bounce on his cock. The pain slowly melts into syrupy sweet pleasure, and everything quickly becomes overwhelming. The sound of his skin on yours, the feeling of his cold tongue on your skin, and the pangs of pleasure shooting through you.

You crash your mouths together because even if you don't want to admit it. You're just as attached to him as he is to you, and the urge to get closer than you already were was becoming unbearable. This kiss is awkward, but you can't bring yourself to mind. Your teeth clack together and your noses keep bumping. His tongue curiously prods into your mouth. Still, you melt into him, letting him explore every inch of you for as long as he'd like. His spit tastes earthy, and surprisingly it isn't that bad. You pull away to breathe, and he follows, pitifully chasing after you like a lost puppy.

His powerful thrusts have devolved into quick, shallow bunny humps, so you take it upon yourself to finish what he started. You place your hands on his chest lightly pushing him back. He doesn't resist, letting himself fall onto his elbows. He looks confused, kiss-swollen lips pulled into the cutest pout. It makes you want to smooch it off of his face. You lift yourself up, and it seems like you're about to pull off, but before his hands could rush back to your hips, you slam back down down.

The sound he lets out is guttural and loud. Your hand slaps over his mouth. He blinks, puzzled. You pull your hand away to press a finger against your lips. “Be quiet, they'll hear us,” you whisper, glancing behind you to make sure nobody is at the door. In the blink of an eye, you're not on top of him anymore. You are on your back now. Stunned, you stare vacantly at the ceiling. His hands grip your hips, sheathing himself back into the warmth of your cunt (when did he learn how to do that without you?)

He starts up that unforgiving pace again, ramming into you so hard the bed is wobbling beneath you. All you can do is take it. Silently praying that your bed will make it through the night. He effortlessly brushes that spongy spot inside of that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. you're quivering beneath him, unraveling like a ball of yarn in his hands. Pleasure sweeping any coherent thoughts away like a hurricane. That familiar ache builds in your stomach. Your cunt clenches around him, begging for release. Everything feels so good, it verges on painful. Your hands latch onto the sheets, holding on for dear life.

Kyle leans down to press wet, slimey kisses on your clavicle, lightly dragging his teeth against your skin. A few more brutal thrusts, and you're digging your nails into his back, softly whining. Your orgasm crashes over you like a current. You bite your lip to muffle the moans that threaten to come out, blinking away unshed tears. After your orgasm subsides, you're instantly being ushered into another one. “s too much, ky, I can't take another,” you hiccup, pressing a hand against Kyle's chest in a feeble attempt at pushing him off. You don't know if he just brushes you off on purpose, or if he did it without realizing because in spite of your pitiful request. His pace sped up.

He's grunting in your ear now, you can feel the hot puffs of air tickling your cheek. Plump tears roll down your face, your body trembling uncontrollably. He cums deep inside you, a blossom of warmth filling you up, but he doesn't stop rutting into you. Fucking it in further. You let out woeful, little squeaks. You're sniveling, and your poor, aching cunt weeps. You feel your second release rushing towards you, and all you can do is brace yourself. He's fucking you like he despises you, and if you didn't know anymore you would have been convinced you were his sworn enemy with the way he was bullying your cunt.

Your orgasm hits you like a strike to gut, somehow more intense than the last. Your back arches off the bed so far that someone might think you're possessed. The bitter taste of iron pervades your mouth. You didn't realize how hard you'd bitten your lip trying to be quiet. (Which is turning out to be an impossible feat, but at least you're trying.) you're gushing around him. Your arousal spills down onto the bed beneath you. You can feel the sheets sticking to your skin, and you remind yourself to lay down a towel or something next time. A few more agonizing seconds pass, and he's finally pulling out of you.

He collapses on top of you, and you take a moment to collect yourself. The icky feeling of laying in a pool of bodily fluids is the only reason you haven't passed out yet.

“Kyle, we gotta get up and take a shower,” you mumble, your body aches and your bones feel like jelly, but you can't go to sleep in these conditions.

He grumbles for a second. “sleep.”

you sigh, “i know, but we're all dirty now. We gotta clean up.” begrudgingly, he peels himself off of you. You get up rather slowly because of how unsteady you were on your feet. You snatch some clothes up for you and Kyle. You haul yourself to the bathroom, dragging Kyle behind you. You turned on the shower, letting the water run until it was warm enough to get in. “C’mon in,” you utter, stepping into the tub. You watch Kyle sluggishly walk to you. He looked so tired. Poor baby.

“Do you want me to help you bathe?” you inquire, quietly. He doesn't respond, just follows you in. He can barely keep his eyes open. You decide it's easier to just wash him instead of trying to wake him up. You grab a washcloth, apply some body wash, and massage it in till it lathers up. You start with his arms, and you can't help but follow all the veins as you travel your way up. Then you moved on to his chest. You could feel the bumps from where his head was sewn back on, your heart ached for him. He didn't deserve such an untimely death. You frown, shaking away those thoughts. He doesn't need your pity.

The rest goes relatively fast. He listens to your request to lift his legs and turn around, so you could reach his back. You speed through washing yourself, so you can get back to bed as soon as you possibly can. Once you’re done, you hop out and dry yourself off. As usual, you help Kyle dry off too. The two of you shuffle off to bed clean and content. You toss a blanket over your sullied sheets, you'll wash them later.

Collapsing onto the bed, you let out a relieved sigh. Sweet, sweet relaxation. Kyle follows suit, pulling you onto his chest. You grinned, silently enjoying his unending clinginess. “L-love you,” he murmured, and you feel a warmth beginning to bloom in your chest. “I love you too, Kyle,” you whisper. You don't know if he truly understands what he just said to you, but you choose not to think too hard about it. Scooting closer to him, you feel the tiredness hit you all at once. The comfortable arms of sleep luring you in.

[wysteria-bloom]

⚝ " i'll never smile again "

The hazbin boys are visibly stressed

Warnings : I used female pronouns. There are mentions of Valentino. Highly suggestive in Vox's part because yeah it makes sense. Alastor offers to go on a murderous rampage with the reader 🥰

Genre : Fluff, suggestive

A/n : I hate the people in my life and they stress me tf out so I'm writing to vent my frustrations out. :) I only included my favs in this one but if you would like a part two with other characters then say the word.

Characters : Alastor, Vox, Lucifer

▢ vox ᯤ

- Offering sexual favours -

Vox growled to himself gently as he typed away at the screen in front of him, eyes honing in obsessively on the words and news articles.

He was on media control right now because fucking Val blew up on Angel in public today.

Now he's forced to get rid of every media that is sculpting Valentino out to be the bad guy.

Whoopee fucking doo.

"Fuckin' Val... stupid idiot.... stupidly hot idiot." He sighed out, running his hands down his face tiredly then his eyes widened with an idea,"... Where's my assistant."

"Here, sir."

"Fuckin' christ-!" He yelped out at the sudden voice and he spun around quickly in his chair, coming face to face with her amused little shit-eating grin. He glared, scowl on his lips," You been there the whole time?"

"Yes, sir." She nodded, hands folded in her lap modestly.

"You're a little creep, y'know that?"

"Yes, sir."

He sighed and rolled his shoulders, wincing at the painful cracks that resounded from them," You seen the media?"

She nodded," yes, quite the 'clusterfuck' as you would put it."

His lip twitched in amusement," perfect descriptor, honestly." He then clicked his fingers at the screen," Is Troy on today? Tell him to deal with the rest of the articles pl-"

"It's Troy's day off today, sir." (Name) interrupted, walking so she was standing next to him, she leaned over him a little to click away at the tabs he had opened," But I will call him to come in. You need rest." She replied promptly.

Vox watched her with an almost sleepy look in his eyes, watching her close down the articles with quick and manicured claws.

"What would I do without you, eh?" He hummed out.

A chuckle flitted from her lips and he found himself entranced by the sound of it," I think you'd do well for yourself without me, sir." She reassured with a gentle voice and stepped away from the desk a little, turning to face him," would you like me to accompany you to your room?"

He blinked and then smirked," how forward of you, sweetheart." He cooed out with that sultry tone of his," Take me out to dinner first, yeah?"

She tilted her head to the side with an owlish blink,"... Would you like to go to dinner? Would that be a better form of stress relief for you that the first option?"

His mouth fell open with a shocked look as he stared at her, a little buffering symbol in the top right corner of his screen for a moment before it disappeared, a dark blush appearing on his face," f-fuck wait... w-were you suggesting we..."

"We have sex? Yes. I hear it's a rather fantastic way of stress relief and you are a rather sexually frustrated individual so it would-"

He place a hand over her mouth as he stood from his chair, basically towering over her.

There was a hungry look in his eyes as he let that charming grin twitch onto his lips," You're about the best damn fuckin' assistant I've ever had."

She smiled beneath his hand and grabbed onto his wrist gently, maneuvering it so she could place an oh-so-gentle kiss to his wrist whilst looking into his eyes," I'm honoured, sir." She hummed out in a sultry fashion.

Vox gulped, his self-control snapping, red leaking from his mouth," I'm gonna fuck the shit outta you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, sir."

▢ alastor ⍋

- Expressing your issues over a glass of giggle juice -

A sigh and a huff fell from her lips as she made her way into the hotel lobby, shoulders sagging from a long day of work.

There seemed to be nobody in the lobby as she walked over to the bar and poured herself out a glass of whiskey.

"Late-night drinking? That's not like you." The familiar static of Alastor graced her ears.

(Name) blinked and looked over to him, noticing how tensed his smile seemed. His eyes looked... genuinely exhausted. His ears flopped downwards ever so slightly.

"Looks like you should be joining me," She hummed back and grabbed another glass, wiggling it at him suggestively.

He watched it for a second before relaxing and grabbing it, sitting next to her at the bar and pouring the liquid. He took a sip with her and his smile seemed to curl in a more soft way now.

"Hm, I dare say my dear, that does just hit the spot doesn't it?" He hummed out, a more relaxed expression on his face.

"You can say that again. No wonder Husk is an alcoholic, I understand the appeal after having an awful day." She replied with a nod of agreement," yknow, sometimes I wish Hell was just a personal purgatory instead of me having to deal with other people's shit."

"Agreed. It gets tiring, doesn't it? Makes you want to go a little batshit insane, yes?" He said this with a polite tone of voice, ears perked up.

"I want to go on a murderous rampage every second of every day."

"We could join forces if it ever came to that. We would kill twice the amount of demons."

She grinned at him," how flattering. You'd go on a murder spree with me, Al?"

He pressed a hand to his heart to express his genuine sincerity," Dear, if I ever say no to a question like that then I give you my full and utter permission to kill me in the most brutal way you can think of." He replied honestly, and (name) didn't know whether to be flattered or concerned but she found herself laughing along anyways.

"What a charmer," She grinned at him brightly," You can be so romantic when you want to, hm?"

"Romance has nothing to do with it. It is merely etiquette." He tilted his head at her, resting it in the palm of his hand, expression seemingly brightened from just a conversation with her," what's got you so downtrodden?"

She deflated a little, smile tired," Overworked and under-appreciated for the work I do." She replied simply, taking a sip of her whiskey," I'll never smile again~" She sang sadly.

Alastor perked up at the familiar song," until I smile at youuu~" he serenaded, smile only widening at the sound of her amused laughter.

Then he looked her over, an almost disappointed glint in his eyes," I still wonder why you work for that insolent shitbox after all these years." His smile seemed to sharpen at the thought of Vox," He doesn't deserve you at all. Not a single bit."

(Name) shrugged," I'm helpless, what can I say?"

"You're not. You're a strong woman, (name). Stand up for yourself. And if you can't stand?" His eyes glowed sinisterly," Break his legs off so you can."

She stared on for a second before raising her glass," Most sound advice I've heard for years."

Alastor barked out an amused laugh and raised his hlass to hers, "For that compliment? I will break his legs for you if it is needed, darlin'. "

Clink went their glasses as they enjoyed each other's company for a while longer.

▢ lucifer morningstar ⚝

- Gentle caresses and positive affirmations -

"Okay so... meeting with the angels next week... then I have to call Michael- eugh cowabummer... then I have to-"

(Name) watched her friend flail around his office with a concerned frown on her lips, arms crossed over her chest.

He's been so stressed lately. He had that little break in between where he could just... chill.

And make his cute rubber duckies.

But now with everything in the hotel, he's had a lot more work on his shoulders. Specifically with Heaven, as unfortunate as that was.

She saw his claws scratching through his hair as he paced back and forth, as though he was entranced by all these... issues. He's so entranced he's forgotten she's there with him.

So she sighed and lifted herself from the wall and walked into his walk-cycle path, grabbing onto his shoulders before he could crash into her.

He blinked in surprise and met eyes with her, a dumbfounded expression on his face," Oh... Hey."

She smiled," Hey."

"Sorry, you've probably heard me complain enough lately. Your pretty ears must be burning with all the yapping-"

"Of course not, Lou..." She huffed out, interrupting him with a frown of disapproval. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his arms, rubbing gentle touches of comfort," I think you've got too much on your plate lately - you using me as an outlet to vent to is the least of my problems."

He deflated a little, a tiredly wry grin on his lips," You're... you're too nice, y'know that?"

"What? You'd rather I spit and degrade you~?" She flirted teasingly with a fanged grin.

"No thanks... for now." He then sighed and moved his head to rest on her chest, cheek smooshing against her collar bone," I need a vacation."

(Name) laughed as she threaded her fingers through his mussed-up hair gently and soothingly," You were basically on a vacation already, hon. Now's the time to get back to work. Put all those wonderful thoughts and dreams to good use."

He melted in her arms, closing his eyes slowly as he wrapped his arms around her waist. This felt more domestic than platonic, but the two of them were too focused on eachother to admit that.

"You'll stay, right? I like having you here." He mumbled tiredly," U-unless you don't wanna which I totally understand and a-accept... y'know, you don't have to be here if you don't want t-"

"Stop worrying you dummy." (Name) chuckled out,"... I'd love to stay here with you."

"Phew..." He huffed and grinned sharply," Good to hear... a-amazing to hear!... Y... you're the best."

"Don't I know it~!"

[astralis-ortus]

you're always enough

✱ boyfriend!bc x fem!reader

— losing you was not an option.

w.count → 2.3k genre → angst, fluff, a dash of comedy warning → mild cussing, mention of infidelity, insecure chan :( a.n → based on this request! it honestly was a challenge for me hahahㅠ i think it's been a while since i wrote something with this quick of a vibe change in a while but i'm glad i got to try again! ⋆ see masterlist

the clock at the bottom right part of his monitor shows its lingering around the 1pm mark—a mere 2 hours since he had stepped foot inside the building—and yet, he’s already stressed.

one block and straight to another, work hasn’t been looking good for him so far. he’s so ready to call for another break—but the soft knocks to the melody of twinkle twinkle little stars on chan’s studio door could only mean one thing.

“well hello there, miss producer,” chan’s frown turned into a smile in the split second you peeked your head between the crack of the door, eyes turning into a pair of beautiful crescents you oh-so adore. you couldn’t even stop yourself from smiling—chan just looked so adorable with his messy natural curls decorating his forehead, beanie discarded somewhere on his leather couch. “come on in. i missed you.”

4 years ago, you were graced with the opportunity to participate in a song camp with the 3racha—one of, if not the, biggest producers in your company. it was a great experience—you got to learn a lot of new things, and somehow, your luck seemed to prolong as you kept in touch with the boys; occasionally called in for inputs while some other time just to hangout while grabbing a bite when the three realized the unidentified voice bleed turns out to originate from your producing room.

“oh really?” your smile easily mirrored his as you stepped inside the cold room, not forgetting to close the door behind you, “you missed me?”

taking his extended hand, the wide grin painted on your face soon met the end of its reign as your boyfriend pulls you into his lap—tiny yelp involuntarily left your lips while chan had his arms wrapped around you in a tight hug. you couldn’t even continue with the witty remarks on the tip of your tongue when his complimentary dozen of butterfly kisses fell across the span of your face; all replaced with the series of giggles and ‘oh my god—stop!’s as you attempted to free yourself from his trap.

you thought your little crush on the oldest of the three was going to remain as a silly little crush—but as life turns out, it has somehow been around 2 years since chan asked you to be his girlfriend, and a little over a year since you two gradually came clean to your closest friends and coworkers; though the thought only came after repeatedly being caught secretly meeting up or sneakily holding hands during your increasingly overlapping recording sessions.

“you little monster!” a high pitched squeal slipped past your upturned lips when you finally caught his rosy cheeks between your hands, keeping him still as you brought your lips onto his for a few quick pecks—which seemed to work, seeing how chan’s antics now reduced to a simple giggle as he held you close.  “you really missed me that much?” you hummed, gently running your thumbs on his freckled cheeks.

“of course i do,” chan pursed his lips in protest, warm hand gently running down your side, “it’s not every day i couldn’t see my girlfriend both at home and at work. 24 hours a day alone wasn’t enough, and now it’s reduced? of course i’m bound to miss you!”

swarms of butterflies fill the hollow of your chest while you let laughter echoes through the familiar green walls, feeling both warm and ticklish from chan’s cheesy line. “gosh,” your wide set grin now completed with a tinge of rose-colored flush on your cheeks, “you’re so head over heels for me, aren’t you?”

chan’s reverberating low hum became his reply, nodding his head confidently. “of course i am,” he smiled, eyes twinkling as the pair of deep brown eyes peered right into yours. “aren’t you?”

“well,” you grinned, arms wrapped around your boyfriend’s neck, “maybe if—”

your train of thought was forced to a halt when you felt a buzz in your pocket, quickly hopping off chan’s lap after a quick glance at the name. a short apology was muttered before you finally took the call outside the studio, leaving chan feeling a little dumbfounded and… hurt.

chan knew it’s probably work—despite the promised time off since the artist you’re working with is on their vacation, as someone who works behind the scenes, you’re never actually off duty. there’s bound to be urgent matters you need to deal with, and chan understood that.

he's just… confused.

and his confusion certainly multiplies in size when he heard another voice laughing with yours, right outside of his studio.

“no! geez, didn’t i—oh!” your attention instantly shifted when you heard the studio door crack open, eyes catching your puzzled boyfriends’ as he looked at you and the figure across. “channie, this is kyungho sunbae. he’s a new addition to the team but i met him in college. kyungho sunbae, this is—”

“bang chan-ssi, of course,” kyungho cheerily greeted chan, extending a friendly hand. “i’ve heard a lot of good things about you!”

“oh,” the confusion on chan’s face turned into a tight smile—which equally reflected on his grip on the stranger’s hand. even through a quick scan of his eyes, chan notices a lot. “couldn’t really say the same, but welcome. i hope you’re adjusting well so far,” chan continued, returning his hand to the small of your back.

“i am, thank you! i—”

“i’m sorry i can’t really talk much right now, i have my things to return to,” chan was quick to cut kyungho off, surprising both you and the latter. “it was nice meeting you, though,” chan quickly bowed before disappearing behind the metal door, leaving you slightly bothered.

“well, i gotta get going too,” kyungho finally broke the awkwardness between you. “i’ll text you later about the details?” he smiled despite the peeking confusion behind his eyes, to which you nodded before sending him off.

it was unlike chan to behave like that. sure, he might grow a little rough with his actions when work hasn’t been going the way he wanted things to be, but he was doing just fine. he was all lovey dovey with you less than 5 minutes prior, wasn’t he?

“baby,” cracking the door open, you were met with a stern-faced chan—eyes locked to his monitors with a muffled bass resonating from the headphone over his ears. the sight led you to a defeated sigh; you knew better than anyone to not bother the lion when he’s in this state.

but little did you know,

when you decided to back away and close the door, chan felt as if his worst nightmare had come true.

he knows it’s stupid to think that you’d ever cheat on him, but there’s also no guarantee that you would never fall for someone else and realize that maybe your happiness wasn’t with him. it terrifies chan to realize that maybe one day, you’d meet someone and realize that there’s someone better than him—someone better looking, someone who could treat you better, someone who could give you everything that you could ever wished for.

chan is scared that he’s not enough, and never will be.

for someone who’s been in his seat for so long, chan understands that at times his life does feel rather fleeting—like he’s simply going through the motions as he tries to stay afloat. everything—everyone—goes by so fast, and along the way, chan somehow learned how to shut down his feelings just so he could survive. he knew—he hoped, that as life gets better, he’ll come to find the opportunity to learn how to feel again.

but then, again, not everything he knows he needed to do proves to be easy.

it took him a while, but when he finally reached a point where he felt like life’s doing better for him, chan finally realizes that he now has love within him to give. he tried sharing them with his bandmates, he tried sharing them with his friends and family—hell, he even tried to share them with every single soul he met, but nothing fills him with the sense of content he was looking for…

until he met you.

chan knew he shouldn’t—you were his coworker, but despite him trying his best not to view you in a special light, he couldn’t help but return his gaze to your bright smile whenever you’re in the room. sure, you’re passionate about what you do, and it sure inspires him—but to see how your shoulders relax whenever you pop open a new book, or how happy you looked browsing through the convenience store aisles while trying to find what kind of new snacks you’ve never seen before,

it feels like he finally found what to be at peace felt like. he finally knew what love should look like—and it’s you.

a soft touch on his shoulder snaps chan out of his trance, eyes wide as it met your worried pair. your gentle smile was the second thing he noticed, and his eyes finally trailed down to the box of pineapple juice and a few snacks along the roll of kimbab perched on his desk.

“i know you’re busy,” your voice finally came clear as soon as chan took off his headphone, “but you need to eat first, okay? it’s almost 2, and i know you didn’t eat much earlier before you left. i’m not gonna bother you again if you eat now—i’ll even head home if you need time to focus, but that’s as long as you eat. okay?”

“…then i’m not eating.”

“baby—”

“i don’t want you to go home,” chan reiterated—and that’s when you finally see the tinge of sadness behind his eyes. “i’m not eating if you’re gonna go.”

“oh baby—what happened?” your voice turned gentle as you took his face in your hands, gently grazing the pads of your thumbs over his skin. “are you okay? do you—”

“i’m sorry.”

“sorry?” you tilted your head, now confused. “for…?”

“just… everything,” chan exhaled, arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you close and rested his forehead on your stomach. “i know i’m difficult, but please. don’t leave.”

“baby you’re not difficult,” you furrowed your eyebrows, puzzled. what happened in the 30 minutes you were gone? did something terrible happened? all sorts of thoughts were running through your head.

“and i’m not leaving,” your voice were stern, and you felt the way chan slightly tightened his arms around you. “where am i supposed to even go anyway? i’m already home.”

if chan wasn’t tearing up before, then he sure is now.

“even if i’m not perfect?” he quietly muttered—and you’re slowly piecing the puzzles together. “even if i’m not tall enough? even if my hair is always messy? even if i’m not fashionable? even if—"

“stop right there, mr. bahng,” you stopped him, peeling yourself off from chan and gazed right at his flushed face, “why are you being mean to my boyfriend? where does this came from, hm? no one’s allowed to say shit to my boyfriend like that!” your pursed your lips and gently lowered yourself to place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose, only then smiling when chan let out a soft giggle.

“were you upset about me talking to kyungho sunbae earlier?” you questioned, and despite the lack of reply from your boyfriend, you’re pretty sure you knew what his answer was based on the minuscule shift on his face.

“i’m sorry, baby. i thought our interactions wasn’t important enough, so i never really brought him up to you. had i known you’d feel differently about that, i would’ve told you right away,” you apologized, smiling as you noted the faint glint returning in his eyes. “we did met in college, but he was just a senior i came to shadow a couple times when i started out in the industry.”

“i was really surprised when he turned out to be the new guy in my team,” you continued, fingers gently tracing his features, “but what really shocked me was turns out, i actually know his wife.”

you watched as your boyfriend connected the dots, jaw falling upon realizing the tiny detail he had skipped through despite catching a short glimpse of thin silver band on his finger.

“i met his wife a few times since we were pretty close in high school, and he’s been trying to dig out some information from me since their anniversary is just around the corner and he wanted to surprise her. he was just making sure he got the details right without texting me since his texts are synced to their shared device,” you explained, letting a giggle slip when you caught the blush creeping up your boyfriend’s face.

“…i see.”

the echo of your laugh only grew in volume when your boyfriend began to avoid your eyes, resorting to him burying his face on your stomach. adorable.

“it’s okay, baby. i understand why you’d get jealous,” your lips were set into a wide grin as you held your boyfriend close. “i’m still really sorry, though. i really wasn’t trying to hide this, i promise. i’ll tell you straight away if anything like this ever happened again.”

“okay.”

“so…” reducing your giggles to a smile, you gently run your nails on your boyfriend’s scalp, trying to soothe him, “am i forgiven?”

a muffled whine and a nod after, chan finally gazed up at you and added, “if only you’re eating with me.”

“oh baby,” cradling his face in your hands with a smile, you inched closer and placed a light peck over his pouting lips, “i’ll even stay here and cuddle all day with you.”

only then, chan finally allowed himself to laugh.

“well, then don’t mind if i say yes to that.”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐲 | 𝐒.𝐌𝐆 ♡

Day Sixteen Special - Collaring

【Synopsis】 : Who knew Mingi would be into collars.

『Word count』 : 1.87k

-> Genre: Pwp. Non!idol au

Pairing: Bf!Mingi x Gf!Reader

[Warnings] : Making out. Hickies. Bite marks. Fucking on a rocking chair (yes thats a warning). Unprotected sex. Dirty talk. Pet names. Switch leaning Sub Mingi. Switch leaning Dom reader. Use of the name Mistress. Mingi likes to whimper. Photographs, hehe.

Note: Sooo if anyone knows what Love and Deepspace is... uh, this fic is inspired by Sylus in a collar and the rocking chair card with Zayne.. enjoy hehe. ♡♡

This is my second day of @whatudowhennooneseesyou 's kinktober event. Please make sure to check out all the other fantastic writers who have also joined this event ♡

Network: @k-vanity @cromernet @wonderlandnet @illusionnet

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List | Tip Jar ♡

You were baffled at first when you found out Mingi loved chokers. More so, he loved them more than just a simple fashion statement. The first time you found him eyeing the collars in a Gothic store, your mind wandered to the extent of your lover boy's obsession. And that’s when you found yourself noticing Mingi’s quick glances at the various collars on the wall in the local sex shop. You needed to stop in to buy some lube and condoms since you had run out, but you had decided to have a look around as well. To skillfully watch your lover's reaction, of course. Truth be told, you just wanted to see what Mingi might be into. Your relationship wasn’t new at all, but Mingi and you had yet to try anything outside the basics. Mingi knew what he liked, and he showed confidence in the bedroom a lot. But you, on the other hand. You had no clue. Mingi was your first real committed relationship, so exploring new things was something you both wanted to do.

So this is how you ended up standing right where you are now, collar in hand, feeling the soft leather between your fingers. Mingi was too busy chatting with the clerk about the lube options to notice the item in your hand at first. But when the staff left for the front desk, you sprung into action. Opening the collar, you reached up to hold it against Mingi's neck. He was surprised to say the least, taking a moment to stumble with a confused expression. “W-what are you doing, princess?”

“Just looking.” You giggled, smiling ear to ear as you took in the collar. The metal buckle in the front of it displayed so prettily against Mingi's strong features, while the leather complimented his skin tone. “We need to get this.” You expressed with urgency, looking up at him with bright eyes.

“Y-you want me to wear a collar?” Mingi could feel himself get hard embarrassingly quickly, his palm slightly rearranging his junk inconspicuously. He didn’t think you would be into collaring him. Heck, he didn't know he would be into it, but here he is. “You sure?”

"Oh, I'm more than sure. You would look so cute in nothing but a collar, Min.” Your smile was way too innocently sweet for what had just spilled from your lips. Mingi’s hand came up to grab yours in order to pull the collar away from him before quickly leaning down and whispering in your ear.

“If we don’t get home right now, I might just cum in my pants.” That was all you needed to hear as you both raced for the front counter before running off with cheeky smirks and hushed giggles. The store clerk obviously knew exactly what you two were going to get up to, but neither of you seemed to mind as you both quickly got back to your cozy home in no time. Mingi almost practically broke the front door down with the way he was shaking with the keys tightly in his grasp. But once he got the key into the lock, it was game time.

Shoes and jackets were left in a pile by the entrance; clothes trailed the hallway. Mingi had meant to land on the couch when he picked you up, but you both ended up on the rocking chair in the corner from him tripping on the carpet. Your hand braced on the dark brown leather, sitting up to see your lover’s lust-hazed expression, “Are you okay?” You huffed weakly with a growing smile.

“Better than okay.” Mingi’s lips found yours in haste, his hands squeezing your bare hips while his fingers danced along the hem of your pants. The collar was still tightly in your left hand, while your fingers dug into the cushion. “You smell so delicious, you know…”

Mingi's moans were muffled against your bra-covered tits as he kissed along the top of your chest. Your legs were on either side of his right thigh, letting him lift up the limb so he could press it against your clothed cunt. You sat up, making the chair rock back and forth, your clit rubbing firmly on his thick flesh. You had to bite your lip as you tried to compose yourself, unbuckling the collar with your shaky fingers. “You ready, big boy.”

“You have no idea.” He grunted, pushing his leg up to rock you gently on his leg. If you weren't so desperate to get this collar on him, you would have lost yourself in the pleasure. But you shook the feeling aside, snaking the leather around his exquisite neck. You looped the buckle, fastening the leather, smirking as you watched your gentle giant roll his eyes back slightly.

“Tight enough?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. Mingi’s hand grips your hips harder, his nails digging into your skin as he lets out a noise you’ve never heard from him.

“A little more...” he panted, bucking his hips as the rocking chair kept a steady sway. You followed his request, watching as his brows knitted together weakly and his bottom lip sank between his teeth. He was enjoying this a lot more than you and you couldn’t help but smile at that thought. Your finger slotted in the little half hoop that dangled in the front, before tugging him sharply, making the chair rock forward. He whimpered, his eyes snapping open to look at you pleadingly, your big dom baby was now nothing more than a pathetic mess beneath you.

“Such a pretty boy. You enjoying this baby?” You had no idea where your boost of confidence came from, but you ran with it. Maybe it was the way Mingi looked at you with such submissive eyes or the way you could feel his cock twitch through the thin fabric of his boxers.

“Yes…” He sighed, using the rocking chair to keep you grinding on him steadily. This is when you leaned down to whisper in his ear, your breath tickling his neck gently…“Yes, what?”

Mingi’s mind wandered for a moment, but his mouth moved before he could get in another thought, watching as the words slipped off his tongue without any fight, “Yes, mistress.”

Fuck, if that didn’t almost make you come. The higher pitch in his tone, the way he hiccuped in with the 'm’ to the word. To think Mingi couldn’t get any more perfect, then he pulls this shit. Your hand doesn’t leave the collar while your other moves from the head of the rocking chair to his clothed cock, nimbly pulling it out of its confinement. “Such a good boy.” You purr, stroking his cock firmly. Mingi’s hips buckled and his leg that was held against you dropped, making you get to work by pushing your soaked panties to the side. “You need my pussy big boy?”

“Y-yes. Please. Mistress. I need to feel you so badly.” Mingi felt tears welt on the corners of his beseeching eyes. Shifting quickly with a smug smile, you placed your legs on either side of him, slightly wobbling from the chairs' increasing rocking. Your cunt was directly over his cock, the tip just barely touching, letting him feel the heat drip from your body. His eyes sewn shut as he begged, “Please, hurry. I need it. I need to feel your pretty pussy wrapped around me.”

You were a little stunned, granted a little taken aback. You never thought you’d be into being on top or dominating a man, but here you were, growing more and more turned on by your giant baby's begs and pleas. The way he was crying to feel you. The way he called your mistress. It brought a new and thrilling tingle in your belly. So you bit your lip, slowly lowering yourself onto his cock, feeling every inch sink deep inside you with each passing breath. Yours and Mingi’s moans were harmonised as you both felt like you became one at this very moment. Your eyes fogged over, watching your lover thrash lightly under you while he used the rocking chair to tug you forward, the rest of his length bottoming you out. Mingi’s hands that were still on your hips moved to your ass, his feet planting on the edge of the rocking chair legs, using his strength to rock the chair, so your body would grind against him without the need to thrust his hips. “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.”

“Min…Argh.” Your hand found its place against the head of the chair once more, but the hand that still held onto the hoop of the collar tugged, hard, causing Mingi to let out a beautiful gasp, his cock twitching at the painful pleasure. Your fingers untangled from the collar to grab his chin, turning his head to the side so your lips could latch onto his soft, heated skin. “Such a pretty boy. I told you, you’d look good in nothing but this collar.”

It was like something snapped in Mingi’s head when he heard those sweet words leave your lips. Bringing his knees up, he fucked up into you with passion, precision, and determination. Your light nibbles turned to bites, as you latched your mouth against his shoulder, screaming as you chomped down onto his flesh. Mingi roared from the pain mixing with pleasure, snapping his hips faster, while snaking a finger to your clit to help you reach the end. It all happened so fast, you swore you saw a white light cloud your vision as you came all over Mingi’s cock. He drilled into you a few more times before he came too, emptying his load heavily inside your abused cunt.

“Fuckk…” You sighed, sitting up slightly to see the hickies littering his neck and the bright bite mark decorated on his shoulder, topping off with the delicate leather tightly bound around his perfect neck. “Pretty boy.”

“Don’t call me that right now. I’ll fuck a baby in you if you’re not careful.” Mingi panted, his chest rising and falling quickly. You just simply chuckled, hopping off him. He watched you shakily walk over to his jeans, taking out his phone that was still in his pocket. While you bent down, he could see his cum dripping down your thighs, making him groan, stroking his already half-hard cock.

You waddled over, sitting back on him with a cheeky smile. Turning on the camera to snap a picture of his destroyed neck, to show him your work. You watched his expression redden when you showed him what he looked like, watching the fire burn in his gaze when you whispered, “Pretty boy."

[vampirebloodie]

Caught | Homelander x reader

Summary: Butcher send you to steal secret documents in Homelander's penthouse, but Firecracker and him seem to be smarter than you.

Warnings: smut 18+, dubcon/non con, homelander being an asshole, forced pregnancy (?)

You just had to be as quick and discreet as possible, infiltrating Vought had even been a not so complicated task, but stealing documents from Homelander's penthouse... Well, it was something very risky and that could go extremely wrong.

Butcher had been clear in what he wanted, Homelander had congresswoman Victoria Neuman's documents, very important documents about her that could be used as enough evidence to destroy her career and still take a little bit of Vought with her.

"Where is it? Where is it?"

You said in agony going through all the drawers possible, a conference was taking place at Vought for the presentation of the new members of the Seven, Firecracker and Sister Sage. Anyway, you didn't have time, you had to get those documents and get out of there as soon as possible, the van with Butcher, French, M.M and Kimiko would arrive to pick you up and if they missed you and entered the building it would turn into a bloodbath.

A throat clearing was heard behind you and your blood ran cold, you took your hands out of the drawer and turned slowly seeing Homelander and Firecracker staring at you.

"Looking for something?"

Homelander asks sarcastically and Firecracker raises the documents that were in her hand, she had the documents with her all the time, they knew that one of the boys would go after it.

"I must say, thank you Firecracker, without you I wouldn't have known there was a little mouse in my penthouse."

"Everything for you, really everything..."

She says in a seductive voice and you hold the disgusted face.

"I bet the little mouse thought there was no hidden camera in the vent, right?"

Firecracker mocks and you roll your eyes. Stupid annoying bitch.

"Where is the rest?"

Homelander asks.

"Who? Nobody is here.

You answer and he smiles, Firecracker laughs softly.

"Oh? So they sent you here and didn't even put someone to come along in case something went wrong? It shows that they really care about you."

"Or no!! Because they don't care about you!!!"

He and Firecracker scoff, as you continue to stare at them expressionlessly, and Firecracker laughs absurdly.

"Ok, enough enough."

Homelander says and she stops immediately, like an obedient puppy. Firecracker was one of the most self-interested and needy women you had ever seen.

"Leave us alone, i want to talk to her."

"What? But..."

"Leave. Now."

He demands and the redhead blink a few times before leaving the penthouse in silence.

"So, Butcher sent you here?"

"Something like that."

"I should burn your brains out right now just for your audacity to break into MY house."

He said gritting his teeth, annoyed.

"And what's stopping you?"

You asked crossing your arms challenging him, even though you knew that inside you were afraid, everyone was afraid of Homelander and rightly so, especially the laser beams.

"You look usable... for me."

He responds looking you up and down, with an interested look, you arch your eyebrow, not liking that look of his at all.

"Excuse me?"

"Take off your clothes."

You widen your eyes and immediately deny that horrendous request.

"No way! I'm not going to do that!"

"I said. Take. Off. Your. Clothes."

He repeats. In a desperate act you try to run, but the laser in his eyes hits the ground next to you, in a clear silent threat.

"Don't even try."

His eyes sparkle showing the red laser beams in an act of intimidation. There was no point in running, the room had plenty of space and the laser would easily catch you. Your hands shake and you swallow hard knowing you have no option, your hands go to your clothes and you remove them, leaving only your bra and panties, your arms hug your own body.

"Good body. Would be perfect to carry a baby."

He says malicious and you freeze, reminding you that he could have children and that Ryan was proof of that. He walks in your direction.

"You're too beautiful, I can't kill you so quickly"

He compliments you by touching your hair, in an almost affectionate act if it didn't come from him. His fingers play with the strap of your bra.

"I want to taste it."

"W-what?"

"Milk."

"What do you mean? I don't..."

"I like the size and I want to suck it so bad"

He whispers and your cheeks turn red, your body temperature getting warmer by every second. His eyes shine again and your hand goes to the fro of your bra, opening it and revealing your breasts, Homelander's blue eyes gain an intense glow, almost like a child seeing his favorite candy. He stared at your breasts in wonder.

"Sit"

He points to the couch and you sit watching him, he walks up to you and sits on your side, then he practically throws himself on your legs, lying with his back on your thighs.

"Breastfeed me"

You blink a few times at that request, but you decide to fulfill it so as not to risk it becoming a barbecue, you lean forward and raise his head a little. Your breath stops feeling his tongue on the nipple of your breast, licking and sucking with desire. Your other hand squeezes the sofa. While he use his tongue, his hand caress your waist.

You shouldn't like that.

You should despise him.

You should hate him.

You bit your lips to avoid letting out a moan because it was so good.

"Enough."

He takes his mouth off and says, then in a surprise act he gets up and pushes you against the couch, climbing on top of you.

"Get off me!"

You protest but he holds you tighter, immobilizing you.

"I know you like that."

He smiles, showing his perfectly white teeth, before attacking your lips hard, kissing you with a little violence, his tongue moved hard and you couldn't even move, just hold on. The kiss was aggressive and needy, in a clear feeling of possession. You just let out little murmurs. He stops kissing you and his lips go down to your neck, you breathe heavily, feeling a little saliva run down the corner of your mouth, his hands held your arms and his weight between your legs made you keep them open, you could clearly feel something rubbing down there.

He stops kissing your neck and pulls away for a few seconds and his hand goes to the zipper of the pants of his supe uniform, opening it, your eyes widen seeing the size of that. Perhaps it was one of the consequences of compound v as well. He approaches again and you close his legs automatically, he opens them rudely in a way that almost hurts.

"Keep it fucking open."

He says in a rude tone, ppulling your panties to the side, he spits against the red glove and rubs it on your pussy, you turn your face to the side not wanting to see that. Your chin is pulled tightly.

"Look. At. Me!"

He says it and before you could say anything he burrows inside you, surprising you, you open your mouth and let out a moan divided between pain and pleasure, damn, that was non-humanly big. He stops for a few seconds, which wasn't enough, until he starts to move inside you, back and forth hard, his balls hit your skin, he looked like a ferocious animal. His pelvis slammed against yours aggressively as he held your legs up, leaving you as open as possible, just for him.

You shouldn't like that.

You should despise him.

You should hate him.

But damn, that was so fucking good.

You were in a mess of moans as your breasts swayed, his blue eyes penetrated your soul.

"I'm going to make you fucking pregnant, I'm going to put a baby in you"

He groans going harder in his moviments inside you.

"What? No!"

"Oh yes, I'm going! Who knows, maybe you'll stop trespassing on other people's property, hm?"

He slaps your breasts, making you moan softly in pain. Getting pregnant with Homelander seemed like the worst idea in the world, but it was either that or getting burned. His movements increase more and more, grabbing your waist tightly, his thumb rubs your clit hard making your head throw back, delirious with pleasure, his hands hold you in place stronger by your waist, which would surely leave purple marks later, with a loud whimper you cum on his dick, he takes it as an encouragement to dig deeper inside you, if it was possible, you could feel everything inside of you, buried, and then with a loud, almost animalistic grunt, he cums inside you, shaking. He comes out of you, watching the cum drip from inside you, you were panting and your hair stuck to your forehead.

"You going to look so pretty with your breasts full of milk and carrying my baby."

He says going up the zipper of his pants again.

"Put your clothes and get off. You have 10 minutes before I go back and burn your brain."

He threatens and leaves the penthouse, leaving you alone, your clock beeps, indicating that the van with The Boys had arrived. You sigh putting your clothes again and ready to go to a pharmacy to buy a morning-after pill

Or a pregnancy test.

[woozihaes]

pairing: sorta s.coups x f!reader, but i'm really just writing this to be funny warnings: hockey!au, but i have no idea what i'm doing or what i'm talking about. notes: inspired by @bfwonu's hockey/figure skater au and the short fic that @97-liners wrote for it.

-

hat trick

-

"a bake sale?" seungcheol, captain of the hockey team, has the audacity to laugh. "are you serious?"

"i don't see you coming up with better ideas," you snap, rolling your eyes and slamming your pen on the table of the reserved study room. "i mean, a beefcake calendar? really?"

seungcheol looks personally offended. "you think they won't sell? have you seen my team?"

you shake your head. you had no idea how it was statistically possible that the entire hockey team were probably almost all of the prettiest boys on the varsity roster, but you weren't about admit it. "i'm vetoing this. the boys on the figure skating team aren't going to do this. it's obviously just to show off and stroke the hockey team's members' egos."

"we need money," seungcheol argues, voice rising. "sex sells!"

"we're in college! we're not supposed to be selling sex!" you shriek, horrified.

"just because you're a bunch of prudes—"

you both jump when someone bangs on the door to your room.

"SHUT UP! we're trying to study out here!" someone screams, and you color. seungcheol, for all his cocky bravado, has the decency to do the same.

"sorry!" you say, loud enough for the person to hear, and then whisper-shout, "bake sale!"

"calendar," seungcheol whisper-shouts back, and you know he does it to be petty.

their heads turn when the door opens, and a miffed-looking guy pokes his head in. his hair is shaggy and you can imagine that his canines would be a cute feature of his if he weren't frowning.

"hey, cap, mind lowering the volume?" he asks. "trying to study out here."

"we're just about done here, actually," cheol announces, getting up and gathering his things. "sorry for the noise, mingyu."

mingyu looks surprised, but then withdraws quickly. "oh, okay. thanks, anyway." he shuts the door behind him.

you whirl on seungcheol. "we're not done!"

"yes, we are," he says firmly, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "no bake sale."

you sputter. "then no beefcake calendar!"

"see? done." he's halfway through the door when he winks your way. "let's fight about something else tomorrow."

he's long gone before you muster a response.

-

"this," seungkwan—who seungcheol nominated (threatened?) as event organizer, because of course he'd nominate someone else—declares, "is a terrible idea."

"i think it's wonderful," you chirp merrily. you hold out your hand for the payment the girl next in line seems eager to dump into your hand. "your captain said it himself: sex sells."

"on paper!" seungkwan cries frantically, gesturing to the long, long, long line of ladies awaiting their turn. "this is practically assault!"

your eyes dart to the sign above you. kissing booth. "oh, come off it. it's not that bad. besides, it's not like your captain didn't approve of it."

although it is, you admit, pretty bad. you thought it was a good idea at the time when you kind-of-sort-of predicted a decent turn out (you weren't blind to the hockey team's collective good looks). but at this point, the beefcake calendar would have been a salacious, but ultimately safer, option.

you have no idea what seungcheol was thinking, agreeing to this booth.

"mingyu is missing," seungkwan cries. "he's been gone for half an hour! what if someone kidnapped him?"

you flash him a look. "what are you talking about? he's huge. there's no way they could drag a guy like that off campus."

"my turn!" the girl next in line declared. she didn't even wait for you take the money—she simply dropped it on the table in front of you and whirled on her victim. one of the players—whose name you learned was d.k.—shrieked and sprang into a sprint.

"he should be in track," you comment off-handedly. "see him pump his arms like that? he could easily run the hundred meter without breaking a sweat.

“next!" you call, but find surprise when it's not a girl, but a guy lined up. in fact, it's seungcheol. "um. hi?"

seungkwan blanches. "wait—"

seungcheol rolls his eyes. "calm down, kwan. i'm not in it for the hockey team." he turns to you and raises and eyebrow. "i wanna kiss you."

your jaw drops so fast you're sure you hear a comical, resounding clank. "what?"

seungkwan's jaw does the same.

"come on," cheol says good-naturedly. "if you put my boys through it, i gotta put the figure skating team through it, too."

you sputter, "b-but—"

he rolls is eyes. "seriously, your girls got off scot-free with that bake sale you went behind my back for, by the way," he says with a shake of his head. "have to take my revenge somehow."

you're still not comprehending. "but—!"

he rolls his eyes and pulls out enough bills to cover five times the cost of one kiss. "here. you can't turn me away now."

you swallow. that is a good amount of money... "fine. one kiss."

"i'm paying you," he retorts. "i get to make the rules, no?"

he leans forward and it's so sudden that you jump away. "wait, i'm—"

seungcheol grunts. "oh, for—" and it all happens faster than you can blink.

his hand cups the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair. his mouth slants over yours, and the first thing you think is his lips are warm and soft.

it's a nice kiss. it's a good kiss. and you find yourself—

someone clears their throat very loudly, evidently very annoyed. you try not to think that that's maybe because you were kissing the captain of the hockey team for long enough a time to consider it "sucking face."

you jump away from seungcheol, dazed, blinking away your confusion. the girl behind the hockey captain is practically glaring at the two of you, and seungcheol sheepishly moves to the side.

in a haze, you take her money and she slides away to find her victim (based on the trill shriek off in the distance, you're guessing d.k.'s a crowd favorite).

"well," seungcheol coughs. "um. yeah."

"yeah," you croak, and you feel embarrassed that that's all you can muster.

"i think, um, i think seungkwan left," he says, a little too woodenly for it to be natural. "i'll, uh. i'll—i'll look for him."

"sure," you say, equally as wooden. you don't look after him when he leaves.

"i'm literally right here," seungkwan declares, but you barely hear him over the pounding of your heart in your ears.

[evilminji]

Okay... so it COULD be because, as a writer, I'm an ASSHOLE to my Characters...

BUT YOU KNOW WHAT'D BE FUNNY?

Danny, innocent, gets YEETED into DC. As ya do. And he's a bit messed up. But! He's a Baby Ancient in the making. Gonna be master of Spaaaaaace(~~~☆!) one day. Very exciting, only slightly relevant.

See, Ectoplasm? Dumb. That's why we need Cores and Brains etc. Never let Ectoplasm decide things. It WILL chose the "technically correct but now the buildings on fire" option EVERY SINGLE TIME. And you are running out of fire extinguishers.

Because it is dumb.

Very, VERY No Brain, Just Goo, Dumb.

And THIS Goo has a life to save. A Halfa too maintain in Peak Performance(tm). Because THIS Goo is VERY smart Goo(according only to itself) and TOTALLY knows what it's doing! Damaged meat bits? Oh that's EASY! You just FIX that! Replace with meat bits! See? It's BRILLIANT Goo. 10 out of 10 stars, me!

Small problem.

The instructions have been damaged.

PANIC.

Wait! No! We got this! We are Very Smart Goo(tm). And have Space Powers. This is FINE. We'll... we'll just FIX the instructions! Hand me a hammer! If we smash enough bits together, it'll sort? Of look right? Close ENOUGH? Yeeeeeah. We're GENIUS Goo~

Use THAT!

But where did they GET their ill begotten DNA? Well OBVIOUSLY the place all the OTHER DNA they had was stored, DUH? Keep up, says the Goo with literally no braincells making horrifying choices for an unconscious man. It's Earth.

As in... the planet.

It's not even HIS planet. It's AN Earth. A Planet CALLED "Earth" that dwells in the DC universe, not his, and is covered with ZERO(0) Fentons but plenty of superhumans and aliens. THAT planet.

The Goo grabbed the Very BESTEST Meat Instructions it could FIND! The Goo is also a collective and did not AGREE on what the "Best" WAS. But it's... okay, no, I can't lie to you, it is NOT fine.

But thankfully it IS stable.

Because Ectoplasm may be dumb and indiscriminate as super-bacteria with a flamethrower, but it is a MASTER at the jigsaw of Life. It can reanimate ANYTHING.

Including the now SINGLE MOST CHIMERAD MAN you've ever SEEN. Who is he related too? YES. His left knee is Kryptonian, the fingers on his right hand are Tameranian, his skin tone has shifted to the most ambiguously multi-ethnic tone imaginable (think that future of humanity mock up, where they combine every ethnicity on the premise that inter-racial marriage will becoming increasingly common up to the point where we all just kinda look averaged out thanks to the ease of travel) because it's trying to do all of them at once and none of them are willing to back down, because all of them got the instructions "Be Skin". He might have Slade Wilson's cheek bones and hair.

Danny wakes up and basicly is half Ectoplasmic Goo, half the extended Super Community.

AND CANT GET BACK HOME TO FIX IT.

Because of course this IS fixable. It's just medical shape-shifting. But without HIS template, undamaged. His body is REFUSING to change from what is OBVIOUSLY the CORRECT form. And he keeps getting clocked as "probably related to me".

With the Fenton Luck kicking in? The parts of him people manage to swab and/or get DNA from? Keep MATCHING them. Danny doesn't know WHO is behind this but-! *spots a giggle child with a cat* !!!!!!

You.

Klarion you little SHIT!

So now he's wearing a face that's BARELY his, running from very determined superhumans who want to parent him, trying to steal enough technology to build a portal. AND vowing to kick the witch boy's ASS.

This ISNT FUNNY, KLARION.

His body is Frankenstein's FEVER DREAM! Every time he gets hurt, it tries to "FIX" itself! He lost a chunk of his should back there and HIS ENTIRE BODY CHANGED SKIN TONES. He's pretty sure if he SITS funny, his teeth might fall out and regrow POINTY! He's handing you over to WALKER you horrible little gremlin child!

Just? Take the "Danny is related to X" and "Danny is sick" and turn them uuuuup. Make EVERYBODY concerned except Danny. This is just another fucked up adventure in a long string of fucked up adventures. Give him his DNA back. If he has to suffer the Fenton Luck then he should AT LEAST get to keep the Fenton "built like a tank"!

*gets hit again*

*is GREEN now for some reason* The fuck?

Garfield, aka Beast Boy: I HAVE A CLONE SON!?

Danny: Zone DAMN IT not another one!

@ailithnight @hdgnj @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter

[astronicht]

Hi I hope this isn't presumptuous, but so, that post you made about Tolkien making the lads leave their weapons outside the hall and CS Lewis thinking the hall was gonna get burned down by a lady who also wanted to kill herself... what's the historical precedent for that? Is there a trope in medieval lit where people like... do that? I ask because uh. I am obsessed with Children of Hurin and there's a scene where that like, happens. And I'm obsessed with that scene, and would love to know if there's like, cultural/mythic context that would enrich my knowledge!

OH BOY, sorry I'm getting to this late, it's been uhhh a summer, but one, this is a very good question!! And two, yes there is absolutely precedent, particularly in early medieval literature, and high medieval literature set in the early medieval (circa 500-1100 AD) past. I'll let someone else debate how often people actually historically locked their enemies into a hall and burned them, but especially in Old Norse literature (and if Fellowship felt like it leaned a little more on Old English literature, Two Towers, where Eowyn appears, felt a little more Old Norse) this is common. Off the top of my head, you've got many Icelandic family feuds ending in burning the whole family in their hall, like Njal's Saga (Old Norse), Attila the Hun dramas (yeah he's a big guy in the burning halls circuit, but actually not in the way you might expect) like his cameos in Volsung Saga (Old Norse) and Nibelungelied (Middle High German), and my vague recollection of a few Irish and Welsh versions that no search engine is giving up for me right now.

This, predictably, got long and slightly off topic.

Disclaimer: As usual, I should say I come from an Old English-centric background, and Old English literature is actually notable among all its neighbors for not burning down too many halls. Second disclaimer, all links are not proper citations, they just go to wiki.

Hall-burning in literature is, to my understanding, part of the concerns of a few early medieval cultures in which revenge is not only expected but in many cases legally reinforced and codified, and one in which conflicts could spiral to engulf -- figuratively, or literally and in flames -- entire families. Many medieval Icelandic sagas are focused on this exact type of destruction of whole families or friendship/community units. Most relevant of these to Eowyn, Two Towers, and the vibes of Edoras (since alas I am only partway into RotK and can't speak to Children of Hurin yet!) is Volsung Saga, which is set on the Continent, not Iceland, and actually has to do with Attila the Hun. As mentioned before, an incredible amount of stuff turns out to have to do with Attila. We will come back to him!

So, on the particular post you're talking about, a few people iirc have replied pointing out that the hall in TT is clearly supposed to be based on a hall from Old English literature, namely the hall in Beowulf, which famously did not actually get burnt down. And that's all true! I was not posting with much nuance; I was mostly having a joke at the expense of CS Lewis. However, I was also referencing a very very common trope in Old Norse/early medieval stories, and I personally think JRR was as well (AND I think Beowulf was also very consciously referencing the exact same motif anyway) (no one has to agree with me, a tumblr blog, on any of these points).

The thing about the hall when our heroes approach is that the scariest damn thing in that hall is Eowyn. Certainly not every hall-burning story requires a woman with no other recourse to set the fire (in fact, the "warrior band approaches unknown hall which might have a grudge against them" is a trope that can get you killed in a pretty homosocial environment, as I guess Aragorn at least was aware, being a big reader). Still, the presence of a woman who is swiftly running out of options does fit what I'd consider one of the or perhaps The best known version of the early medieval burning hall trope: Gudrun, who shows up in at least a dozen different texts in both the Scandinavian and the German language traditions, including Volsung Saga, a text which itself often gets paraded around as the basis of lotr (which I'm sure it is, in that JRR appears to have simply and very fairly based lotr on every piece of early medieval vernacular literature I can think of).

In a portion of Gudrun's story (which of course changes a bit in each retelling), after her first marriage she is unhappily married to Atli, who is none other than our main man Attila the Hun. After Attila kills her brothers for reasons (in one version, her father), seeing no other way to take the necessary revenge and no other way out, she kills the two sons she had by him, serves them to Attila for dinner, has Attila killed, and then sets fire to the hall with everyone in it. After this, she attempts to drown herself.

The self-destruction of this act is a really important beat, and has only gotten more-so as a comparison to Eowyn the further I've read into RotK (currently, I'm at the houses of healing after merry and eowyn take on the witch king). It's a lot clearer in the book than the films, for me, that Eowyn going off to battle was not so a straightforward empowering and/or freeing move, despite allowing her some agency, but more the one path she saw as available to her with which to die with honor (which was pretty much exactly what Gudrun was facing as well). Like Gudrun, whose first husband was a great hero but has died, Eowyn's romantic choice is a hero who is presumed dead (sorry Aragorn they did Not believe in your ghost skills). In fact, in some versions Gudrun does put on armor and fight with her brothers before they're killed. She kills Attila with her own hand, with the help of another man who needs to avenge a blood feud against Attila.

So while Eowyn didn't get forced into marriage to Attila Wormtongue (with apologies to both historical Attila and that one historical skald also called Wormtongue who was reportedly hot) and burn the whole place down, she's still trapped, and like Gudrun chooses destruction alongside her household.

Reading her arc feels so much like watching Tolkien write a fix-it for Gudrun. What if she got this one little chance, and this one other little chance, and this one more -- tiny little shifts in the narrative that allow her to get out, and not through fire, and not through death.

Anyway, this got away from me. I hope it added some context to the Children of Hurin arson case! Thanks for the ask

[aboutcustardcreams]

Wake up call

pt. 1

a/n: I'm not going to follow the series episode by episode, as I already mentioned. This story will focus primarily on the three witches' story, so I'll probably jump forward and back in time at my own discretion from now on. If you're curious about something in particular, feel free to tell me in the comments. Would you prefer that I go back or forward from now on? (also, sorry for eventual typos or mistakes).

pt. 2

Agatha looked as surprised as you for a moment. The boy was on his knees, squirming uncomfortably at the rope around his wrists and ankles. He said something, his voice sounded muffled through the duct tape.

“Oh, uhm.. well, I may have accidentally kidnapped him.” 

You blinked in disbelief, “How can you accidentally kidnap someone?”

The kid muttered something else you couldn’t quite comprehend. You thought it was his way to agree with you, so you grinned, whereas Agatha groaned in annoyance. As the boy persisted, you realized what he really wanted from you. 

“Oh–”, you mouthed a quick apology, lips stretching in an awkward smile as you took the tape off his mouth with a quick puck. He winced, but then muttered a ‘thanks’ to you. Had he been locked in there the whole night? Instead of that, you asked a different question, “you alright?”, twirling your finger, you made him turn around to untie the rope around his wrists and ankles. 

He sighed and gave you a grateful smile once free, “much better.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, not really sure about what else was to say, despite having tons of questions. There couldn’t be a moment worse than this to have to deal with a kid. 

“Agatha, love, care to explain?” 

Your lover paid no attention, or rather she feigned to be distracted doing practically nothing more than walking up and down the house, as she mentally freaked out due to the last events. 

“There’s nothing to explain–”, she waved dismissively, “For all I care he can keep the house.” 

The boy frowned and quite frankly so did you. You walked up to her, confusion written all over your features, “Agatha, what in heaven are you talking about?” 

The boy followed behind in silence.

When she suddenly spun around, Agatha was so close, you almost stumbled backwards. “Did you listen to Rio’s words or not?” There was a hint of frustration in her tone, quite relatable in fact, and yet...

Your head lolled to the side, “so your plan is to leave?”

“Glad you’re catching up," she grinned cheekily. 

With no magic at her disposal, she had no intention of facing the Salem Seven, and even less letting you anywhere near them to save her life. So running was the best and only option she could think of at the moment; that hopefully would give her enough time to figure out a way to restore her magic and be a witch again.

You ran a hand through your hair, eyes glancing only briefly over the boy, who gave you a tight smile in return. A part of you wondered what he was doing still there. Didn't he have places to be, like school or whatever? 

Before Agatha could walk from you again, you reached out to grab her wrist, “So, this is what we will do,” you started, silently enjoying the whiny sound slipping from her lips, “we sit down, talk it out like mature adults, and you–” pointing a finger at the boy, “you’re gonna tell me why you broke into our house in the first place.”

“Uhm.. yeah, I..”

“We don’t have time for this!” Agatha exclaimed, “Need I remind you there’s a price on our heads?” 

A playful smirk tugged at your lips and unable to resist teasing her, you quipped, “technically it’s on yours. I only happen to be in your shit as per usual.” 

The boy let out a quiet chuckle, that you were about to reciprocate hadn't it been for Agatha’s hand flapping at the nape of your neck, “Oof!" you whined. 

Amusement glimmered in her eyes, “You had it coming,” she retorted. Then she glanced over the boy, with a grimace. “Not to be rude or anything, but we’ve got a lot on our plate so if you could just–” She pointed to where the front door used to be, her confidence dimming slightly, “this house is a complete disaster.”

She looked so annoyed right now, tired and scared even, but the latter she would never admit. Completely forgetting about the boy, you focused on Agatha and placed a hand over the small of her back, “it’s not so bad…” you trailed off, resting your chin on her shoulder. She knew you weren't only referring to the conditions of the house. Her eyes fell shut for a moment, her features relaxed when you started stroking her skin, lips barely brushing against a soft spot behind her ear, “we have an excuse to redecorate now.”

Despite everything, Agatha let out a small chuckle. She turned around and draped an arm around your waist. With everything that happened in such a short time, she hadn’t given herself a moment to truly cherish the fact that you were back—the real you. Sure, even without your memories, you stood by Agatha’s side all those years, but having you here now, like in the old days, felt different. It was different. Her eyes darted from your face to your collarbone, nose scrunching up at the sight of the nasty bluish bruise— a reminder of Rio’s hands on you. Her hand glided up to your face, tracing your jawline before slowly moving down to your collarbone, fingers barely grazing your skin, mindful that it was still tender and possibly sore. 

“Are you–?” 

Your eyes softened at the hesitation in her voice, “you shouldn’t worry about that.”

“I always worry about what matters," she argued back. 

"Sappy," you teased.

With an eye roll, she smirked, "brat."

When her eyes darted towards the boy once again, she let out an incredulous scoff, “you better have a darn good reason to still be dangling here.” 

Color drained from his face. Quite frankly, Agatha could be intimidating when she tried. Even when she didn't. “I-I do!” He cleared his throat. “I want to walk the Witches' Road. It’s the only reason why I broke in here really and–” he was talking so fast, for a moment you thought your mind had tricked you. There was no way he said the words ‘witches’ and ‘road’ in the same sentence. 

Agatha's eyes snapped wide open, “what’s that you say?”

“The Witches’ Road,” he repeated, slower and firmly. It hit you hard. You couldn't help it. “I want you to take me there,” his eyes softened and so did his voice as he added, “please.”

Agatha tried to meet your eyes then, but you had your gaze dropped to the floor. 

“The Witches’ Road doesn’t exist.”

“You’re lying,” he argued. 

Agatha scoffed bitterly, “am I?”, voice rising in exasperation. 

When you slowly lifted your chin towards the boy, you squint your eyes so much as if you were troubled by a sudden headache, “You’re asking for a death wish here.” 

Agatha agreed, “quite literally.” 

The boy looked crestfallen, but he didn’t back down, “You only say that because you think I’m inexperienced, which is fair. I am. But I can make it to the end-” 

Your lips pursed in a grimace as you tried to make sense of everything that was happening. First Rio, then the Salem Seven on your heels, and now this boy who had no idea what he was asking for.

“Look, I love your confidence– but the Road is no place for a kid.”

Agatha sank into the couch in the lounge, curling a finger at you in invitation. Smiling, you obliged, perching yourself on the armrest beside her. You were close enough that her hand could slip to rest on your thigh, her fingers tracing soft, lazy patterns over the fabric of your pants. The gentle rhythm of her touch soothed you, and you allowed yourself to calm your nerves, focusing on her proximity and nothing else. 

“I’m sixteen,” he objected, taking a seat onto the chair across from you. 

“Oh, why didn’t you say that before? That changes… nothing.”

You had to stifle a laugh at her sarcastic remark. 

He gave a dramatic eye roll. “Come on! You walked it before and survived!” 

Your brows knit in a frown. Just how much did that boy actually understand about you and Agatha? Or rather, how much did he think he understood? No one truly knew what it had been like for the two of you back in the eighteenth century. People clung to their own assumptions, and you let them—after all, the real truth was far too painful to share. Not a single soul knew the true story behind the reputation Agatha had built, nor the reasons why so many had to die in the first place. 

Agatha’s hand stilled on your thigh, “I had a very good reason to stay alive, plus I’m exceptional.”

It wasn’t a lie, not completely at least. 

The boy’s eyes shifted from Agatha’s to yours. You felt as if he knew what Agatha was talking about you. You saw something, a glimpse of understanding in those eyes that somehow unsettled you. If Agatha was known as ‘witch killer’ for all the wrong reasons, your reputation also preceded you, but you struggled to say the words. 

“I read an egregious amount about you two. I’ve been obsessed since I first came up with your Salem days… the way you two met, and oh my God- don’t get me started on your magic skills.”

So you and Agatha had a little fan. 

Agatha’s interest rose considerably. She grinned, “cute. Isn't he a cute pet?” 

“Honestly, I’m not sure whether to be flattered or freaked out by all this interest,” you mused.

The boy completely ignored the fact that Agatha just called him pet. “Sorry, I just– you’re a necromancer witch!” He was now struggling to keep a posed tone of voice, and you found yourself scratching the back of your head, not really used to being praised by your gift/curse. Quite the opposite in fact. “Guilty as charged,” you quipped.

Agatha’s hand moved towards your knee, thumb brushing in a soothing circle there. You smiled inwardly at the gesture.

“Books say witches your kind are so rare, powerful and–”

“harrowed, banished, burned at the stake?” You cut him off in a sing-song tone. 

Agatha snorted, “you name it.”

She knew better than anyone what it felt like to be brushed aside. It was one of the reasons why she could bond with you so easily and so quickly. You understood her before she could even attempt to comprehend the complexity about herself and her power. 

Teen blinked confusedly, “I was gonna say interesting.”

You clasped your hands together and took a deep breath. “Look, we appreciate your enthusiasm. You seem like a really smart boy, and I’m sure you’re destined for great things, but we can’t help you, not with that-” 

“But I saved Agatha from the spell…” his smile turned into a frown and his features dimmed  as a consequence, “I’d have come to you too if she hadn’t locked me up in the closet. But w-wait,” he suddenly came to a halt, eyebrows knitting in a frown as a new question popped up in his mind. “How did you wake up from the hex?”

Agatha knew, but said nothing, leaving the explanations to you.

“It’s hard to explain–” Being a necromancer allowed you to have all sorts of… vibes. Plus your soul was connected to Agatha’s and her life being threatened by something– or rather someone you knew quite well worked as a wake up bell for you, “it’s like a sixth sense, but better. I can always feel when Agatha needs me. I got a pull into reality the moment Rio broke into the house with the purpose of harming her. I felt her aura. She and I– let’s just say our magic works like opposite poles of a magnet.”

Agatha’s features hardened a bit, as she nibbled on the inside of her cheek out of nervousness. Your magic being complementary to Rio’s had caused you more problems than anything else. She almost lost you to her, and that’s something she would probably never forget. 

The boy hummed in thought. He was clearly intrigued by your magic and took a mental note to ask you more questions at the first next opportunity, considering he left his notebook in the car.

“And who’s Rio? I didn’t hear much but– there seemed to be a history–”

“Trouble.”

“A bitch.”

Both you and Agatha said in unison. 

“We don’t really need to talk about her now…” you kept vague, hoping he would catch the silent message passing through your eyes. Talking about her was never easy, not when your feelings for her were so tangled and conflicting. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love her anymore, cause you still did. And Agatha... well, she probably did too, however, she would never admit it, not to you and even less to herself. The past clung like a shadow, and neither of you could ever truly forget. The ache of Rio's choices lingered, buried deep, a silent reminder of what your bond once was and could never be again. 

He pressed his lips together and gave you a slow nod of his head in return. 

“I’m curious,” she smacked her lips, your head turned towards her, as she continued, “If you’ve got the goods to break a spell cast by the Scarlet Witch, why do you need the Road?”

Your eyes widened in shock. Was she really considering this?

“The Road promises that what you’re looking for awaits at its end. I need to walk the road so I can figure out the extent of my power..” he explained and she hummed, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Don’t you need power yourself?”

Agatha’s back stiffened, “I most certainly do, yes.”

“She doesn’t need to walk the Witches' Road for that,” you pointed out, glancing at the purple witch with the corner of your eyes. 

The boy was confused. Without giving him too much information, you simply told him that you could share your magic. And, in a way, it was true. A more accurate version would have been explaining that Agatha could kill a witch by absorbing all her power, leaving nothing behind but dust. But that was far too dramatic, plus you were still one hundred percent sure she couldn’t and wouldn’t harm you in any way.

She let out a long, exhausted sigh at your insistence, “For the umpteenth time, I’m not taking your magic–” 

“Ugh!" You groaned. "Aggs, Rio warned us–”

“She mentioned the Salem Seven, didn’t she?” The boy cut you off. “I’m sorry but y-you’ve got zero chances against them without magic, Agatha.” 

She shot him an icy glare, “Thank you for stating the obvious.”

Your lips trembled a bit, as you struggled to hold back an amused grin.

“I’m just trying to understand which alternatives you have,” he muttered defensively. 

Agatha opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Nothing that she could use to hush both you and the kid. 

“He’s got a point, you know. You need my magic, like right now.” 

Once again, she ignored you. “Or maybe, we need to walk the Witches' Road one last time.”

The boy’s mouth parted ajar, “Really?”

“Really?” You echoed in a squeak. 

She simply nodded her head, giving you an innocent smile that only fueled your incredulity. You let out a quiet, bitter chuckle right after, at the same time shaking your head in disbelief. 

“Agatha, sweetheart, a word?” 

You held out your hand for her to take, and just like she did a moment ago, you forced a serene, tranquil smile—one that didn’t quite reach your eyes but would have fooled anyone who didn’t know you better. She took your hand, her fingers curling around yours as she let you lead her toward the kitchen. Once you were far enough from the boy to speak more privately, you locked eyes with Agatha. Your face was practically shouting, ‘What the hell?!’ —a silent message that she heard loud and clear, without a single word spoken.

“The Road doesn’t exist! What’s your plan?” 

“We are the only ones aware of that,” she stated matter of factly as if that could be used as a great advantage. “Teen is right, without my magic, I can’t defend myself against the Salem Seven, I can’t protect myself or you.” 

If this wasn’t handled carefully, it could spiral into something much worse. You knew, better than anyone, how deeply it hurt Agatha to feel powerless, especially when it came to protecting those she loved. She had faced this agony with Nicky, and now, here she was again, reliving the same fear, this time, for you. Her own life, in that moment, felt like nothing compared to yours. Because without you in it, there was no existence worth living for her. 

“You could,” you insisted, in a low, almost pleading tone. “if only you took my power–” It was so easy.

“I’m not willing to take any risks with you,” she stepped into your bubble, her hands tightening around your shoulders, in a possessive and yet still attentive way. She wanted you to understand. She needed you to be on her side on this. “I need to make sure I've got control over my thirst first. It's been so long since the last time I did that so I'm sorry but you’ll not be the lab rat for it.”

“Are you really thinking of using the boy?” 

Agatha’s mouth dropped open, “Oh no, my God- no! I’m not talking about Teen, you idiot!” 

You crossed your arms over your chest and gave her a defiant look.

She gave in after a bunch of seconds, “Okay, maybe I did think of him for a minute. He did break the Scarlet Witch’s hex, though." 

You pinched the bridge of your nose at that.

“But we still need to ‘walk’ the Witches Road, except that this time, we aren’t killing anyone,” you’re ready to argue back again, but she didn’t let you, so you bit your bottom lip instead, trying really trying to find the silver lining at the end of this plan. “Here’s what we will do: we gather a coven, make some female friends, sing the Ballad, it doesn’t work, wowie-!, I call them names, they get angry and blast me. I take their magic and stop right before they turn into dust.”

She paused and took into your eyes, letting you assimilate her words, hopeful you’d find her idea good enough, because there was really no time for anything else. 

“So, to recap—,” you cleared your throat, “you’re willing to lie to that kid, to the poor witches we’ll meet along the way, witches who’ll eventually turn against us once they learn our intentions, but you’re not willing to take my magic that’s literally within arm’s length because you’re scared you’ll kill me.” 

She hummed, feeling quite satisfied with your summary, “yep.”

A slow smirk spread across your lips, “You’re crazy.”

“Maybe," she conceded. "But this plan’s gonna work.” Agatha shifted closer, her hands sliding to your hips, her fingers pressing into your skin with a slight possessive touch. 

Your gaze fell to where her hands rested and for a moment, there was silence. 

Time ticked. She waited. 

“Fine. Oh my God- fine–” 

Before you could say anything else, she pulled you into a crashing hug. Your pout quickly turned into an amused smile, and finally into a fit of giggles when her lips began peppering kisses all over your face. 

“Atta girl!” She said with a proud grin, to which you responded with a snort. 

You’d be pissed, though, if by the end of the day, you’d be forced to resurrect a bunch of witches. But you kept quiet about that.

[justnatoka]

Haunted

Poly! The Lost Boys x GN! Reader

A/n: This started as a drabble. Oh well. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Word count: 1.7k

Warning: mention of injury

Prompt: "I'm pretty sure it was a ghost." / "I'm pretty sure it's not." / "Oh really?" / "Ghosts don't bleed."

Summary: After days of running you finally find shelter, both literally and figuratively.

Your panting filled the silence of the empty room, echoing back from the walls of the run down house you were hiding in. It was clear it has been standing abandoned for many years, decay and nature slowly sneaking in through the cracks and taking over. Lucky for you, one of the windows in the back was shattered, probably adventurous teens exploring the place since the door has been boarded up. It was a good enough hiding place for now.

A wave of pain shot through your shoulder as you tried to find a more comfortable seating position against the wall of the kitchen, a nice reminder that you weren’t out of the woods yet. You had been running for days, your body growing more and more exhausted. It looked like you finally managed to lose the hunter chasing you, at least for now. Hopefully, you can spend the day here sleeping.

The next big problem was your shoulder. You had no idea what he shot you with, but it wasn’t healing, not like you usually do. You were more resilient than humans of course, but if you didn’t find some help and soon, you would bleed out.

As you were thinking through your options, trying not to lose yourself to the fear gripping your lungs like a vice at your hopeless predicament, you heard gravel crunch outside. You were instantly on alert, quieting down your breathing, fight or flight taking over once again. You got ready to run if need be. It was possible that it was just some critter scurrying away in the dark, you thought, but then the sound came again and it was clearly something bigger, walking on two feet. As they got closer, you could make out three, four different pair of footsteps. It was not your pursuer, but that didn’t mean they were friendly. In your current state, you didn’t want to risk getting into an altercation with four people, even if they were just ordinary humans. Finally, you could hear them talking too.

“You think it’s haunted?”

“What’s the matter, Paul? Are you chicken?”

“Shut up, Marko. I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Oh, really? Then why don’t you go in first?”

“I will! I’ll show you!”

You heard wood splintering, and it became clear that they were ripping off the wooden planks from the door.

“It looks like no one has been here for a while. I wonder why the humans avoid it so much.” It was a calmer voice that spoke up next, and your brain subconsciously picked up on his word choice.

‘Humans’? Is it possible…?

“I heard that there has been a murder. A man slaughtered his entire family. They probably think it’s cursed.” This one sounded amused, like he was laughing at the fear of others.

“You hear that, Paulie? It’s definitely haunted.”

“Man, shut up!”

They finished dismantling the barricade and the front door swung open with a loud creek. You didn’t take your eyes off the opening connecting the kitchen to the hallway, just a few doors down from the main entrance. As you were slowly and silently backing up to another door behind you, leading to the living room with the broken window, your only escape route, you bumped into a small dresser. To your horror, a glass tipped over and shattered on the floor. Your senses were probably dulled from exhaustion, otherwise you wouldn’t have made such a stupid mistake.

“What was that?”

“Maybe it was a ghost. Let’s go and say hi.”

The footsteps approached and you quickly turned the corner into the living room, just in time to hear them step into the kitchen. They were too close. Then you heard a high-pitched screech, and someone fell over laughing.

“What the hell, Marko? Not cool, man, not cool! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“You should have seen your face! Ow! Stop punching me!”

“What’s going on, boys?” The other two arrived to the kitchen as well.

“That glass broke, and I think I saw something move through that door over there. I’m pretty sure it was a ghost.” The voice belonging to ‘Paul’ said.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not.” It was the calm one this time.

“Oh really? How do you know, Dwayne?”

“Ghosts don’t bleed.”

Silence. Shit. Some of your blood was probably smeared on the wall you were leaning against earlier. You eyed the window. If you could make it there and get outside, the way is clear to the tree line. You can hide in the woods. But if you make a run for it, they would definitely hear it. Oh well, it’s not like you had anything to lose. You glanced back one more time towards the door to the kitchen before quickly turning around to bolt. You didn’t even make it two steps before bumping into something solid and someone grabbed hold of your arms. You panicked, clawing and scratching and hitting any surface you could reach, struggling and hissing, but you couldn’t overpower them. Myriad thoughts were running through your terrified brain. How is this possible? Why can’t I get free? I’m injured and exhausted, but I should still be stronger than an ordinary human. What are they going to do to me? Is this where I die?

“Look what we have here, boys,” came an amused voice from above you, and as you looked up, you stared into the striking blue eyes of the stranger. You quickly took in the scruffy face and the bleached blond mullet before trying to get away once again. You could sense the others stepping into the room behind you. You were surrounded. In your last desperate attempt you vamped out, baring your sharp teeth and hissing in the stranger’s face. His expression changed instantly, the smirk melting off his face. But instead of jerking away from you in fear, his brows furrowed, a frown turning down the corners of his mouth.

“They are one of us,” you heard from behind. The man holding your arms was looking you over more carefully now, his scowl deepening at the sight of your frantic eyes and torn clothes, gaze immediately drawn to your wounded shoulder, still oozing blood through your shirt. His eyes finally met yours once again, now full of concern and, to your amazement, glowing yellow in the dark.

“What happened to you, sweetheart?” His voice was so gentle. You felt tears gathering in your eyes and slowly running down your cheeks as you collapsed in his arms, relief flooding your body. They were like you. They can help you. You’re finally safe. The word safe ran through your head over and over again. He wrapped you up in his arms, his hand running up and down your back in a soothing manner, letting you cry into his shoulder.

After your sobs quietened down, he led you over to the beaten up old couch, letting go of you in the process, but staying close. As you wiped the tears from your eyes, your vision becoming clearer, you saw three guys standing over you, all of them full of genuine concern. The one next to you spoke up again.

“I’m David, and this is my pack,” he motioned to the others. One of them, a blond with a friendly smile sat down on your other side.

“I’m Paul, this is Marko,” the one with the colorful jacket and curly hair waved, ”and the big, brooding fella is Dwayne.” He nodded at you in greeting. “What’s your name, dollface?” You muttered out your name, voice still thick from crying. Paul’s smile brightened, immediately making you at ease, your body finally starting to relax.

“What happened to you?” It was David who spoke up again, his voice somber and his face serious.

“Hunter,” you whispered out and they went rigid. You continued. “He’s been chasing me for days. I finally managed to lose him a few towns over, then I found this place. I thought I can hide here for a bit, get some sleep.” Your hand went to your shoulder, their eyes following the movement. “He shot me with something two days ago. I don’t know what it was, but I’m not healing.”

Paul drew in a sharp breath beside you, and you could see from the corner of your eyes as Marko started pacing around, his hands clenching and unclenching in anger. His steps echoed loudly in the silence following your admission.

“What do we do now?” Dwayne asked, his gaze full of determination.

David looked straight at you, his voice calm as he started speaking, but his eyes echoed the same sentiment you saw in all of them. They were not going to let anything happen to you.

“We’re taking you to Max, our sire. He will figure it out what you were shot with and how to deal with it.” He softened a bit as he added. “You’re safe. You’re one of us now.”

This brought fresh tears to your eyes and for the first time in many days, a smile tugged up the corner of your lips.

“Thank you,” you whispered, voice full of emotion.

As you moved to stand up, your legs gave out. Your body has been running on pure adrenaline for a while, not being able to feed while being chased, and it looked like it finally has caught up to you. Before you could collapse to the floor, steady hands took hold of you and you were hoisted from the ground. Looking up, you were met with Dwayne’s warm brown eyes.

“You can rest now,” he said, sending you a small smile as he carried you out the front door, away from the house, away from the fear and desperation. Listening to the murmuring of the others talking, exhaustion finally took you over, resting your head against Dwayne’s solid chest, his steps lulling you to sleep. The future looked just a little bit brighter.