#oh to cradle them gently in my palm *starts crying*

[enviousbug2]

a Mhin I drew on someone's strawpage. the tiny ever

[ilys00ga]

𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀, 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗻𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘀.

➞ pair: yoongi x reader.

➞ genre: hurt/comfort (why do I keep making these lmao), established relationships, I'm so bad at tagging sorry.

➞ warnings: angst and fluff cuz we all need that (we really do). reader has anxiety and abandonment issues, yoongi is trying his best for the sake of both of them, just relationship things.

➞ A/N: requested by @parkjennykim, this was very fun to write! thanks for yet another idea <3 I hope u like it. I'm organizing this blog/post (?) while listening to mono, and let me tell yall, it's such a vibe omg. I think you should read this while listening to that album, I love it sm, I can't even begin to explain UGH- if namjoon ever goes on a world tour, he better perform every single song in that album, cuz imma be losing my mind in the crowd, esp during moonchild. my vocal cords are already getting sore. yeah. if u want this to hit that spot, maybe u should do what I said (this is a friendly order, if u will). if not, just enjoy and pls ignore any mistakes, english has been challenging me recently (for the last 10 years lmao)

ps. I am in a dire need of a yoongi in my life. specifically the one I wrote in this one. oh how I love being a lonely fanfic writer <33

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

God knows how long it had been after it hit midnight when Yoongi stood in the kitchen. His eyes were red and heavy with drowsiness, but he couldn't sleep that night.

How does one sleep through a restless, biting night?

Surely not with a bad headache, or overflowing thoughts, and especially not with guilt chewing on his core.

He gulped, throat begging to be quenched as it held onto a slight, delicious, yet bothersome burning sensation. He opened the fridge and filled a glass with some water, raising it to his lips when loud a cry of his name, followed with a thud and a number of sobs, disturbed the quiet of the night and made him jump, startled.

His limbs froze in their place, glass almost slipping his hand and crashing on the floor when his sleep deprived brain realized that the muffled cries were yours.

Wide awake, he dashed after the sound. Thirst and sleep no longer occupied his mind, all he could think of was holding you in his arms.

He found you on the stairs, trembling as you wailed into your hands.

He hated it so much: seeing you in pain. He wanted nothing more than to shield you from the rainfall of your gloomy sky, from his own rainfall, from the world. How could one be an umbrella and the rain at once?

He blinked, once, twice, then gulped and heaved a deep, tired breath.

One storm doesn’t require another storm to be calmed down, that he knew. One needs to be composed and collected to stand still during a storm, that he knew as well.

With worried eyes, he gently called out your name and walked up to you, “darling, what’s wrong?”

You looked up as soon as you heard his worried voice, some tiny sense of relief washed over you when you saw him right there. A hundred daggers digged so deep into his heart and bones, aching, the moment a broken whimper of his name fell from your lips.

Without a second thought, Yoongi hugged your face to his chest. One of his hands was patting your back and the other affectionately caressed your head.

As he listened to his name that never left your lips, Yoongi held you there on the cold of the stairs with nothing but sweet nothings whispered back to your ears.

Everything he did and said was so gentle and soft, like he was so afraid you'd crack and come to tiny bits and pieces at any given moment. It all made you want to cry even harder, to hold him so tight and never let go.

Soon, when your tears started winding down, pulled away and cradled your face with his hands, palms faintly pressing on your cheeks as if he hoped to share their warmth with you.

Tender eyes met your wet ones and stared as their owner’s voice made its way through the noise of your sniffles and hiccups. He said, “It’s alright. I'm here. Talk to me, hmm?”

You answered his plea with a small nod, before wiping your tear stained skin and hugging him again. He smelt like home. You took a deep breath, greedily feeding your lungs with his lovely scent.

He hugged you back, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body closer to his. He pressed light kisses on your temple, patiently waiting for you to talk.

“I had a really scary nightmare. so, so scary- I woke up, didn’t find you there- then…then I remembered the fight we had earlier. I…I thought I lost you- I'm sorry. sorry for the stupid things I said earlier. I love you so much! please don’t leave. please..”

Your voice quivered with fresh tears ready to be spilled again. Yoongi started hushing you as soon as he noticed that you were working yourself up.

Squeezing you in his arms, he whispered “I never left, and I never will.”

“I’m all right, nothing happened to me, see?” he leaned away just enough to allow you to take a quick look at his body, then added, “a stupid fight is not going to make me leave. I love you way too much for that, and I'm sorry for hurting you too.”

He could still read fear and uncertainty all over your face, and he didn't like that. He knew that you trusted him, and he didn't doubt your love for him.

At first, he didn't get it. He didn't understand the insecurities, the anxiety and the nightmares you suffered from especially after the inevitably worst of arguments that happened between you and him. But after longer and deeper talks, with you expressing your feelings and him listening with careful ears, it made much more sense to him.

Sometimes he hated himself for triggering your alarms and making it harder for you, but he knew it was neither his fault nor was it yours.

Growth and pain are two key elements that come arm in arm with love, and fights are an unpreventable part of any kind of relationship. For all that, he always ended up blaming himself for making you question your worth to him when he can't even sleep without you happily cuddling his side.

Softly, lovingly, he started prepping tender kisses over your cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, temples, all over your flushed face.

It worked like watching waving fields of green wheat dancing with the wind, your storm started to slowly die down and your heart felt at ease again. slowly, but definitely.

Smiling ever so affectionately, Yoongi sealed his reassurance with a loving kiss that consumed you whole, and it left the corners of your mouth curving up in a dazzling smile. You nuzzled his chest and sighed.

“I really hate fighting with you.” you mumbled into his clothed chest, drained and light headed from all the crying and nearly-a-panic-attack you went through.

“I know, I'm sorry. I hate it too." he whispered back.

There was a pause of comfortable silence, with both of you breathing each other in, before he wondered aloud: “did you fall down the stairs? are you okay?”

You chuckled breathily at his question, recalling the hysteria he had to deal with just a few minutes ago. But Yoongi was there, right beside you. your arms were tightly wrapped around his torso, right by your side.

He had some kind of exceptionally irrepressible magic in those fierce eyes and that gummy smile of his, you inarguably couldn’t be more grateful for that.

“I'm alright. Was too busy crying, I didn’t even feel a thing to be honest.” you said, and he giggled.

“I love when you’re clumsy like that, but please be more careful, muffin. Can’t have you hurting yourself because of me even more." Even with your face buried into the crook of his neck, you could feel and hear the heavy pout in that comment.

Huffing, you leaned away with furrowed brows and a strict gaze. Yoongi gulped. Hesitation took over him, yet he knew that honesty is the only thing that must be present to drive this conversation to an end.

Honestly brings clarity, he found himself reminding himself of that very often.

"as long as we take care of each other, it's okay. I love you." you affirmed, and perhaps Yoongi almost teared up because of the way you looked at him right then and there. He wouldn't utter a word to spoil that information out loud, though.

The shy grin and the flushed cheeks you were met with were worth risking the entire world and its eight billion residents. You couldn't help but smile and pull him into another hug.

"This is great and all, but my butt is numbed. I think there's no blood flowing down there anymore," he said, his heart swooning when you giggled at his humorous change of topic, so relieved that he was finally able to hear your brightness again.

"Let's go back to rest, darling." He stood up, grabbed your hand and squeezed it in his, then gently pulled your body up and dragged you to your shared bedroom, where everything and everyone else meant little to nothing at all as you laid in each other's arms.

[intern-seraph]

a true happy ending

Malleus bestows his gift upon you.

started out as a discord flash ficlet and became. this. originally inspired by the diasomnia trailer and written before book 7 actually dropped lol. inspired in large part by that one part of sleeping beauty where maleficent captures prince phillip.

please heed the tags!

(originally posted on Ao3)

cws: mutually dubious consent, nonhuman genitalia, hemipene (malleus has two penises), bondage, magic, overblot, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, possessive behavior, fear play, angst + smut, crying, sleeping beauty elements, pain play, fem!reader, overstimulation

You shouldn’t have confronted him by yourself. After all the time you’d spent together, you had forgotten one thing: Malleus Draconia is powerful beyond your imagination. Now, alone together in the highest tower of Diasomnia's castle, you watch as Malleus paces the tiny room and leaves a trail of ink in his wake.

"You don't have to do this."

He stops in his tracks and turns to look at you. A tiny puff of green flame seeps from the corner of his mouth. In a few long strides, he's in front of you. One clawed finger tilts your chin up, turning into a gentle palm that cradles your jaw. You reach up to touch him, but your hand is stopped short by the shackle on your wrist.

"I must. There's no other way to keep you... do not worry, my dear. A thousand years passes quickly when you are asleep. This will be my gift to you."

Your jaw tenses as you hold back a sob. Still, the stubborn tears slip down your cheeks. His thumb swipes them away and leaves a smudge of ink in its wake. “Malleus, please. You’re hurting yourself. This isn’t right.”

“Oh, my sweet,” he whispers. He swoops in, finger slipping between your lips to open you to his slow, searing kiss. You make a tiny noise, choking on the bitter Blot that oozes onto your tongue. Despite yourself, you kiss back. Even as your shoulders heave with aborted sobs, you reach up to hold him closer. Gasping, he parts from you. He presses his forehead against yours, his glowing green eyes holding your gaze unwaveringly. “You do not understand yet. But you will, in due time. When it comes time to wake you, you will thank me. Undisturbed slumber, bereft of pain and suffering, naught but peace and pleasant dreams. Does it not sound perfect?”

In any other context, maybe it would. But Malleus is not in his right mind. His offer isn’t a good night’s sleep, but an eternal slumber. You bring your hands up to push him away so you can talk sense into him, but he catches your wrists and (gently, always gently) pushes you down onto the soft bed you sit on and pins your hands on either side of your head. His long, lean body arches over your prone, shackled form.

“My rose, do not push yourself so. All you need to do is accept my gift.”

His hot breath fans out over your face, smelling of herbs and the faint traces of ink. “W-we can’t… I can’t… Malleus, you’re not in your right mind. Please, please listen to me.” Your strength wavers, his smell and weight and warmth clouding your mind like the fog of sleep. “Mal… please… I love you, but this isn’t right.”

“I am entirely —” his hand slides down your body and toys at your waistband “— in control, my dear.” His fingers worm their way under the elastic of your underwear. A quiet moan slips from your lips as he presses his inky fingers against your clit. His slow, precise movements coax you to roll your hips into his touch. You don’t realize that the flickering green candle flames are slowly being snuffed out one by one. Not until his glowing eyes are the only light in the room. He kisses you again, prodding at your sealed lips with the forked tip of his tongue. Every swirl and thrust of his fingers against your clit is deliberate, as though in an effort to prove his cogency. His hand shifts as you gasp into his mouth and he slides his middle and ring fingers between your slick labia. A twist of his wrist lets them sink into your cunt, his claws dragging dangerously along the delicate flesh. With a soft pop, he breaks your kiss. A string of black-tinted spit connects the both of you for a heartbeat before he speaks: “Trust me. I will bring you peace and pleasure beyond any you have known thus far. You trust me, don’t you?”

You don’t get an opportunity to respond. He thrusts his fingers into you at a steady, rhythmic pace. The air is cold on your skin — when did you get naked? — and you shiver, but Malleus is so warm and comforting, and your thoughts are already so cloudy that you don’t realize that the warmth is more of a fever. His hips rut against your bare thigh, his dark, ridged cocks leaking steady streams of precum. Every thrust of his fingers makes your body jolt and the shackles on your wrists rattle. “M-Malleus… a-ah… please…”

“Anything you want, my sweet. Anything… so long as you beg for it. Beg for me. Let me give you this. Let me give you everything.”

And maybe it’s the potent magic buzzing in the air, maybe it’s the familiar weight of his body on yours, maybe there’s just something fundamentally fucked up in your brain, but you —

You give in.

“Please,” you whisper, throat raw from crying, “give it to me.”

The scent of ink envelops your senses. Tingling sparks flow from his fingertips straight into your core, the magic so potent that your orgasm is almost immediate. You shriek and flail as electricity arcs through your body, but he keeps going. He forces another orgasm out of you, then another, then another, until you’re sobbing and pulling weakly at his wrist. Only then does he pull his fingers free of your spasming cunt. Just as soon, though, he settles between your legs and starts to push his cocks between your labia. It hurts when he finally fits the head of one cock against your hole, pleasure and pain clashing with every involuntary clench of your muscles. Your legs jerk and you pull at the shackles on your wrists when he bottoms out in one smooth thrust.

All at once, the candles reignite. Behind Malleus looms the ink monster, its head tilting down as though watching your intimacy. Thick globs of ink slip from its head onto Malleus’ back and steadily morph into a pair of draconic wings. His tail unfurls behind him and lashes out when he pulls his hips back. A set of large, gleaming canines catch the green firelight as he hisses and snaps at the air. You gasp, but you’re overcome by a wave of exhaustion that turns your limbs leaden. Still, your breath comes quick and shallow, and you flinch when he leans down to lock eyes with you.

“Do not be afraid,” he says, his voice making the air around you quiver, “I will keep you safe. I will protect you, my greatest treasure, forever and ever.” His thrusts falter. He groans deep in his chest and digs his claws into the sheets beside your head. “Be… hah… be good for me… and take everything I have to offer.”

One last thrust has him buried in you as deep as he can go, and you feel his cocks twitch with his orgasm. Ink-black cum spurts out onto your belly, so hot it’s searing. You whimper and shudder and go limp on the sheets. Malleus brings his clawed fingers to your chin. Gently, he coaxes you to look at him. With his other hand, he summons his staff. Your weary gaze drifts up to look at its head.

“You have nothing to fear, my love. I will rid you of your worries.” He lowers the staff until the spindle at the top is level with your shoulders. “Touch it.”

“... Malleus?”

“Touch it, and you will never feel pain again.”

Your hand lifts from the sheets. Transfixed, you reach up to touch the spindle. A bolt of magic lances up your arm, and you’re overcome with another wave of exhaustion. Somewhere in the sleep-fog that settles in your brain, you process a sudden emptiness and a wave of cold. The room spins. You close your eyes.

[sillysowa]

PROMISE

PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X GN!READER

GENRE: HEAVY ANGST

WORD COUNT: 1.1K

WARNINGS: NOT PROOFREAD, USE OF Y/N, READER DEATH, DESCRIPTION OF INJURIES

AUTHORS NOTE: IF YOU CATCH ANYTHING TAHT ISN’T GN, LET ME KNOW

SYNOPSIS: HOBIE NEVER WANTED IT TO END LIKE THIS…

—

Often, Hobie looked fondly upon your deep caring nature and true heroism that he never saw in anyone else—but this time he only cursed it to hell.

He saw his life flash before his eyes as you swung back into the collapsing building to rescue a civilian, panicked and fueled on the notion that you ‘had to save them.’

He couldn’t have possibly chased after you any faster, and the moment your webs shot them out of the building and into the crowd of people gathered to catch them, he screamed,

“Y/N!” A cry of pure despair tore from Hobie’s throat as he watched the ceiling collapse on his only love.

His heart constricted in his ribcage at the sight of your fear before it happened and the sounds of you pain. He had never moved with so much haste, tearing the rubble off of you with his pulse pounding in his head. You were trapped under incredibly large pieces of the ceiling and Hobie could see your bloodied feet under the small gap he revealed.

“Y/N! Y/N please!” Hobie gasped, crawling under the opening. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of your limp body, pierced in your side by a giant rod of metal from the rubble, bleeding out like a bloody waterfall. You were conscious, but definitely not for long with all the blood loss. Your mask was torn clean off and tears spilled from your poor red eyes,

“H-Hobie…?”

“Y/N-Y/N-Y/N…It’s me!…oh, my love...” His shaking voice cracked as his arms reached out to gently hold you close. You cried and screamed in pain as he cradled you,

“I know I know, I’m sorry my love, I’m so sorry. It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay…I’m here, I’m here.” Hobie rambled, his voice trembling as he turns your head to look away from the wound and into his teary eyes. It was heartbreaking to see him like this,

“Hobie…I don’t want to die…” Your lower lip trembled and your voice was hoarse as you spoke, your rattling fingers clinging to the back of his jacket as you sobbed, the shaking of your body only causing you more pain and making you cry even harder.

“You won’t die baby, I promise.” Hobie almost whispered as he attempted to gently remove the rod from your side, instantly stopping when your screaming grew particularly agonized and sobs of his name fell from your lips, your limp body tensing under him,

“It’s-it’s useless Hobie…” You whimper, swallowing and trying to not hyperventilate. Hobie felt utterly defeated, looking down at the dying light in his arms and knowing there was nothing he could do about it. He hadn’t even realized he was crying until he felt your trembling fingers against his warm skin, wiping away his tears—you were so cold.

He held your hand there as if there was a possibility he could engrave your fingerprints into his skin and keep you there with him. You tried to steady your breathing, tried to muster up the strength to speak,

“P-Please don’t cry, Hobie…”

If only it were that easy. Hobie had never been so afraid in his life as he was watching you fight for your own in his arms, your blood gushing all over him with seemingly nothing he could do to help you.

“I can’t let you die like this…I can’t.” He whispered and squeezed your hand, his warmth an oddly unfamiliar feeling to you as your mind starting to feel fuzzy, your head lolling back only for Hobie to cradle it with his palm,

“Why…?” He asked, his voice low and broken in anguish as he held you, your head in his palm, “You’re all that matters to me you know that right?” Hobie couldn’t bring himself to use words like ‘were’ or ‘mattered.’ You were still there…at least for a little longer,

“I know…” You sobbed, coughing and choking on your blood then whimpering as Hobie’s grub tightened on you and his pulse raced. You were horrified of dying, but relieved that it would be in Hobie’s loving arms. Those same arms that hugged you tight every time he saw you, caged you in when you slept soundly, and saved you countless times. There was no other way you would have your death than this—Hobie looking down on you with your hand against his cheek, whispering about how much he loves you while soaking your fingers with his tears and rocking you gently in his arms,

“Hobie…listen to me okay?” You groan, your eyelashes fluttering as you wince in dying pain,

Hobie just nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He looked like he was genuinely hanging on every word you said.

“Please, promise me you’ll…keep living…keep fighting everyday, Hobie, just the way you always do-“ You choked out, holding his jacket in your balled up fist. The pinch in your eyebrows, the tears in your eyes, the blood on your lips—it was a nightmare to Hobie,

“N-No please don’t-don’t say things like that please…” Hobie cried and nuzzled his cheek against your palm, scared that it would fall from his face at any moment,

“Hobie you have to promise…” You whimpered, your glossy eyes gazing longingly into his own. Hobie couldn’t…because he knew if he did it would be like sealing the deal on your death. But, he also knew that he couldn’t let you die without doing anything you asked of him, so he swallowed his pain,

“I-I promise…” Hobie whispered, his tears dripping down onto your face, you whimper and your breathing grows slow, your face becoming oddly pale and colorless, your eyes dull,

“Y/N? Y/N, I can’t lose you, please!” Hobie screamed with a hollow voice, barely his voice barely a whisper in the bustling night. He held you like a baby, never feeling so helpless in his life. You didn’t respond to him, just squeezed his jacket until your knuckles turned pale and your hands shook violently before all their movements ceased. Your eyes were Hobie’s only remaining form of contact with you, the light slowly going out and being replaced with the lifeless look of a doll.

Hobie’s body was racked with sobs as his composure crumbled, hot tears brimming down his cheeks as he held your head under his chin. You were gone…his only love, his life, his purpose—gone. He slipped his palm into your hand, squeezing it like your fingers could still hold him—he didn’t want to think about how you could never hold his hand again…

Hobie knew he would never be the same person he was before he had held your dead body in his arms and sobbed for hours, dreaming that you would open your eyes and tell him you’d be okay, that you’d both be okay. He held your hand the whole night, even though your fingers were stuff and you would never feel a thing ever again.

—

@ohxx @luxxtuxx @fatenpara @hobesbf @defnot-bri @lasagnaisbest @deepzombieyouth

[kerryweaverlesbian]

I want destiel with 13 or 22 (the prompts you reblogged)

Take it easy, with me please, touch me gently, like a summer evening breeze

"You know what this mix is called, Cas?" Dean murmers, pressing his forehead to the side of Castiel's and changing their sway to match the new rhythm.

They've been dancing alone in the kitchen, slow and close, for something like half an hour, and these are the first words either of them have spoken since Dean pulled Cas in. On one side their hands are tangled loosely together, and on the other their arms cross over at their waists, keeping them both pressed together, chest to chest.

"No," Cas says, playing along. They both knew the tape had already been in the stereo when Dean had reached out and pressed play. It wasn't one Cas recognised; all slow, a lot of crooning women.

"It's called, 'For Cas, if we win'. I made it while you were gone." Dean's breath warms the tip of Cas’s ear, and his meaning warms him everywhere else.

"Was there an 'if we lose'?"

Dean shifts his head back to look Cas in the eye. "No. I was never going to happen."

Andante, andante, just let the feeling grow.

Enchanted by the devotion in Dean's eyes, he's caught of guard by his sudden, amused smile. He understands when Dean sings along, sotto voce, "Touch my soul, you know how. Forgot that was coming."

"You've touched mine, now," Cas reminds him, "Or, the closest thing I have to one."

That's how he'd gotten out of the Empty, Dean cradling his Grace to his chest and then fighting his way back through miles of black, sucking sludge, beset by angels, demons and the Empty's own power as he went. The place had been a lot more active since the last time Cas had been stuck there, but no less bleak. There had only been a chance for Dean to finally choke out an, "I love you too, you fucking idiot," when they'd collapsed back out through the portal before he'd fallen asleep for 15 hours straight.

"Your hands were very gentle," Cas notes, and he can feel Dean's face heat as he moves them cheek to cheek, an endearing and unsuccessful attempt to hide his blush. "I felt very secure."

"I didn't want to drop you," Dean admits at a mumble, then complains, "You were freaking slippery, man."

"My apologies," Cas teases, and Dean knocks him with his hip in playful retaliation. "If it helps, you fought me all the way from Hell to your gravesite."

"Sounds like me," Dean says, with a prideful grin that Cas can hear in his voice.

I'm your music. I'm your song.

"Yes. Had I known then how you would change me, I might have held you even tigher."

"Or you might have let go, save yourself the trouble," Dean quips, but there's a fragility to it that has Cas stop the dance and take Dean's cheek in his palm, guiding him to look at him.

Play me time and time again, and make me strong.

"I wouldn't trade the life that we have built for anything. All the time that I have loved you has been-" Cas can't help the tears starting to catch at his voice - "Has been the best of my existence."

Dean's welling up along with him. Perhaps they will both cry every time he tells Dean he loves him. A very small price to pay, in comparison.

"Cas," Dean says in a rasp, and knocks their foreheads together gently. Two teardrops fall from Dean's eyes to Cas’s cheeks with the movement.

Andante, andante, tread lightly on my ground.

No matter who moved in for the kiss, they both lean into it, careful and soft and everything they haven't managed to be with each other until this point. The passion shared between them is palpable, even as the kiss remains relatively chaste. There's no finish line to run to, anymore. No Apocalypse to beat. They have the time to dance together, just as slowly as they please.

Andante, andante, oh please don't let me down.

[bloodsuckingfiends]

Kinktober Day 3: Gloves

Pairing: Aether X Rain

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, anal, medical setting including stirrups because I want desperate and vulnerable Rain, gloves, milking, cum, Rain's in heat, he's whiny and desperate because of course he is

A/N: Oh boy, I had a long ass weekend. Friday the 13th was my birthday, which I spent at a horror convention, and I'm fucking draineddddddd. But now I'm home, and tomorrow shall be a rest and recuperate day in which I will try to crank out some more of these prompts, because guess who's coming down with a cold? It's me. I'm the one getting sick, and my already fucked up body can't handle this shit.

As much as Rain missed having Aether play on stage alongside him, he’d be lying if he said that Aether’s new job didn’t have perks. Aether now worked in the Ministry infirmary in his retirement, not as a doctor or a nurse. No, Aether worked as a heat aid, and with an uneven amount of ghouls in the den, Rain was in need of his… aid.

So here Rain was, sitting in the waiting room, impatiently tapping his toes, and picking his cuticles to distract himself from the aching throb he felt in his painfully hard cock. When Aether finally opened the door to his exam room, and called Rain’s name, Rain felt his hole grow wet with slick in anticipation of what was to come, before he got up to follow.

Aether handed Rain a gown, “Just protocol”, he had told the water ghoul the first time he had to make a heat aid appointment. Rain’s face and chest flush as Aether turns around and busies himself with paperwork, while he undresses.

“Go ahead and lay down for me, and whenever you’re ready, go ahead and put your feet in the stirrups.” Aether spoke as he sat on a stool at the end of the exam table, pulling light blue latex gloves over his big hands. A shiver ran up Rain’s spine and heat bloomed in the pit of his stomach at the sight. Aether’s big thick hands straining against the smooth rubber. There was no doubt in Rain’s mind that the big ghoul had to order one of the largest sizes of gloves to fit him, and the thought made his breath hitch as he did what he was told and lay back into position. His eyes focus on the white ceiling above him, counting the tiles; an easy distraction. 

“You know the drill by now, hm Rainy?” Aether says, squirting a liberal amount of lube into his gloved hand. Rain nearly whines at the affectionate nickname, but nods instead and then hums an affirmative, almost too soft to hear over the click sound of the lube bottle closing.

“Okay, I’m gonna touch your thigh now.” It’s what Aether does every time. A simple, courteous gesture so Rain doesn’t jump at the first contact that’s hidden behind the flimsy gown.

Aether’s gloved hand is cold against Rain’s warm skin. His touch is feather light, barely there, as he slowly moves upwards. So, so close to where Rain needs him most. It feels as though Aether is dragging this out, feels like it’s hours rather than seconds before Rain finally releases a strangled cry at the sensation of slick latex against his tight balls and up the underside of his shaft. 

“So pent up, so much pressure, huh?” Aether says almost off-handedly as his hand moves back down to cradle Rain’s balls, weighing them in his palm. Rain whines in response, his hips lifting a little bit.

“Stay still.” Aether’s other hand gently presses Rain’s hips back down. 

The water ghoul chews on his lip, trying, and failing, to desperately stifle the whines and moans that threaten to spill from him. He couldn’t tell if it was his heat, or just the fact the sheer clinicalness of everything, was what was making him so, so needy. His cock twitches, causing Aether to hum low in his throat. Rain lets out a choked whimper when Aether finally takes his cock into his slick, gloved hand, and starts working over his length. 

“That feel okay?” A lube slicked finger begins to circle his fluttering rim, before pressing into him, stretching his hole open. Rain’s thighs tense in response, his toes curling. It feels as though every nerve in his body is alight as Aether milks him internally and externally. 

“Need you to cum for me Rainy, can you do that for me?” Aether says, tone even as he curls his fingers to pet at Rain’s prostate while the fingers on his other hand make soft circles around the tip of his cock.

“I’m gon- I’m gonna come, fu-” Rain’s reply is cut-off by a moan, his back arching, eyes scrunching shut as his dick spurts out rope after rope of hot cum.

“Good boy Rainy.” Aether murmurs, as he milks Rain to the last drop. 

“Now, did you want to make an appointment for next month, just in case?” he removes the soiled latex from his hands before disposing them and washing up, glancing back at his quivering patient who blissfully nods as an affirmative.

[anavixxx]

Elriel month, new beginnings:

'first I love you.'

Elain looked up at Azriel, who was lying on a king size bed right next to her, with her sleepy brown eyes.

He smiled at her for what happened to be one second after he saw tears in her doe eyes. His smile fell from his face as he cradled his scarred palms into her light-brown hair, shadows shivering around their naked forms. Azriel stroked her head with his thumbs as he asked, “Is something wrong?”

Elain said nothing. Azriel thought how she was always quiet like this three years ago, when she had been turned into High-Fae.

Very quiet, very calm, very small, so fragile, so very sad looking… just like now. Except, now she was in his arms and she shouldn’t be, he remembered.

His eyes was suddenly sad too. Elain moved her one delicate hand from his chest to his silky hair. Shadows vanished from his face at the movement. Azriel had longer hair than normally and it wasn’t because he wanted, but he didn’t have time for himself. He worked hard, because if he wasn’t he’d think of Elain and how her mate keep courting her.. or worse. He’d get her and run away. On the continent, where she wants to go. He’d go with her, he promised. And when he wasn’t working he was sneaking with her, behind his brothers and her sister’s backs, behind everyone’s backs. It wasn’t fair. He wanted to give her everything. And he would, he promised again.

She moved strand of his black hair behind his right ear. Azriel started stroking Elain’s cheek in his large palm. There’re tears rolling down. She was crying quietly and he wondered if it was because she used to cried herself out loud to sleep before, that she now didn’t have enough strength to do so - crying loud.

Elain’s palm remained on his ear. Her pale fingertips tracing shape of his rounded ear. So opposite of her pointed ones and on the other hand exactly the same as people have.

Och, my Elain..

Azriel thought. He knew now.

She was touching his ear so gently he couldn’t tell if it was her or gentle breeze which were sneaking in through open windows, through which he crept in.

He opened his mouth to apologise. He didn’t even know why he wanted to, but he felt shattered. He wanted her to be happy here. Happy like her sisters.

But he stopped himself as Elain spoke, “I miss it.. sometimes,” she smiled sadly. He didn’t said anything. He knew she meant her life as a mortal woman.

“We lived poorly in our shack. Our father wasn’t exactly the best father, but he was our father. I think I was happy, I had everything I wanted.. selfishly. Garden, Nesta’s love, Feyre’s money, new clothes.. Nesta wasn’t suffering that much, I thought, because our mother was dead,” Elain snorted, still caressing Azriel’s ear.

Azriel’s shadows now loomed from behind his massive batwings. He felt them rustling. Listening carefully.

“Then we got estate from Tamlin. I organised balls, I had some new clothes, bigger garden even, fiancé.. We forgot about my little sister except Nesta.”

sorrowful.. melodic voice is sorrowful..

Shadows whispered through Elain’s fingers to his right ear. They’re dancing with her fingertips now. As if they wanted to comfort her, soothe her.

She continued, “I didn’t feel ashamed for the first time in my life, because I didn’t remember Feyre, what she went through thanks to us. About what I was thinking plenty back in our poor shack," Azriel was listening carefully with hazel eyes, more yellow than green tonight, big as a bumblebees which were visiting Elain’s garden.

“What I want to say is, I think it was the happiest time in my life, in that estate,” she whispered, tears didn’t stop rolling.

Azriel felt jealousy, anger, confusion, sadness. Because, he wanted to be the centre of happiest point in her life, because…she was his.

“I don’t want you to feel stressed about us. I know we’re both suffering. I’ll wait Azriel. Oh, mother, I want to wait for our happily ever after. I believe in it. I think.. I’d life the happiest life then," she moved closer to him and Azriel started sobbing.

Shadows shrouded them both. Caressing their faces, dancing across Elain’s pale cheeks and chest. soothed Azriel with gentle whispers.

Elain smiled at Azriel, her big dreamy eyes flickering with something.. She cupped his rounded ear. As she was leaving her past. Closing her old self. "I love you, Azriel." She whispered to him. Azriel closed his wet eyes and took a deep breath, before he opened them again.

"You’re the happiest point of my entire existence Elain, I’m so in love with you," she batted her long eyelashes at him and then she kissed him fiercely.

The End.

[ilysmsweaty2]

this literally came to me in a dream so i'm making it all of your problem now.

it's christmas or near christmas at the white house. regardless, presents are being opened. it's the american christmas. nora, alex, henry, june, ellen, bea, oscar, and leo are there. everyone's drinking and enjoying themselves.

"ohoho, there's one left," oscar says reaching over the side of the chair he's on under the tree. he pulls out a octogonal-shaped box with no wrapping but the top looks like a flower. "wonder who it's for," he continues. alex is sitting adjacent to him, his back to the tree. oscar's arm is around june who sits between him and ellen. leo is sitting at ellen's feet and she's messing with his hair. henry and bea are sharing a chair across from alex and nora's sitting on the floor next to them. it's almost as if alex has an audience.

oscar opens the box only to pull another slightly smaller box from inside.

"oh. guess it's not for me then," he says shrugging. alex squints at him.

"what?"

"hmm. someone else try," oscar says holding the box out. it pointedly rattles.

"oh? is it for me, henry?" bea asks taking it and revealing the giver of the gift.

"i don't know, try to open it," henry replies with a mischievous smile. oddly, he wouldn't meet alex's eyes.

bea opens it only for another layer to be taken off. it's now a small box with christmas wrapping on it.

"mm, drat, not for me," she says.

"what is going on?" alex asks but is quickly drowned out by nora and juna saying,

"my turn!" in sync. they fight over it playfully before tearing the paper together.

"seriously, what is this?" alex asks but he continues to be ignored.

"henry, you wanna try, babe?" nora asks looking over her shoulder.

"it's from me, so it's not for me," henry replies annoyingly posh.

"henry, who is it for?" alex asks impatiently. he's sat up now, no longer reclining.

"let me try, dear," ellen says taking it from nora. her and leo work to open the box and reveal a little sphere like one you would get from a quarter machine with a little prize inside.

"hmm, not for us," ellen shrugs.

"why not alex give it a try?" oscar offers. a chorus of "yeah"s and "good idea"s start from everyone.

"guys. seriously-" alex starts but the ball is handed to him.

it's a red sphere and it's heavily taped shut. he shakes it and it rattles like there's something metal inside.

"what the hell is this?" he mutters picking at the tape.

"jesus, how much tape did you put on this thing, henry?"

he finds the end and the tape unrolls with loud tearing noises. the sphere pops open and the object inside falls into alex's hand.

it's a ring.

his breath is taken away but he can't bring himself to believe it. he looks up. nora, bea, and june had all whipped their phones out to film. his mom's eyes are shiny. he almost can't breathe at henry, who is now in front of him, on one knee.

"hello, dear," he says quietly, smiling his crinkly, unapologetic smile.

alex's mouth has fallen open and he's slowly shaking his head.

"you are not-" alex starts but his voice doesn't actually come out.

"on CHRISTMAS??" he says finding his voice, "how fucking cheesy-"

"alright," henry interrupts him gently, plucking the ring from alex's palm, "are you going to let me finish?"

"fuck," alex mumbles sinking into his chair and looking away his eyes brimming. the girls erupted into a chorus of "awwww"s along with percy who bea face timed. henry waved them off.

"cmon stand up," he says taking alex's hands as he stands.

"alex," he says, but has to stop and shake his head. he's crying now too. alex laughs.

"we knew-" he clears his throat- "we knew there was no going back pretty early on, and i think we should make it official. i-i feel forever about you, and you are truly my other half.

i never thought-" henry has to stop. alex loosens his hand from henry's and cradles his face.

"i never thought i could have this," henry's voice is breaking and alex's tears are running down his face.

"i-i love you alex, and- fuck," henry can barely get the words out. "you wanna get married?" he says giving up, grinning. alex falls to henry's level.

"of course, baby," he says, their foreheads together. alex kisses him but it's all teeth because they can't stop smiling.

everyone's cheering including cash, zahra, amy, and shaan who stood off to the side. in the midst of laughter, tears, and congratulations alex and henry fall onto the couch (oscar having moved to alex's chair). june is squeezing her brothers' arm.

everyone is standing around the area falling into easy conversation. henry's resting his head on alex's shoulder smiling smugly at the ring on alex's finger. the tree is twinkling and alex thinks it's like a goddamn hallmark movie. a prince for christmas. he laughs to himself. nora has said something that has the entire room in an uproar.

"what?" alex asks having missed it.

"we're gonna have a royal wedding, love," henry chuckles kneeing alex.

"oh, fuck," alex says.

[dr-demi-bee]

Sleeves Down

Short little snippet from my Tav x Gale WIP for all the galemancers out there also demanding their opportunity to worship Gale how he deserves. Need more opportunities to adore him than the store has - so I'm just makin' it myself.

Inspired partly by this and this perfect piece by @trashmancer (among other fabulous art, ty for sharing your lovely work <3).

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I appreciate your diligence, vhenan,” Tav grasps his hands and pries them away from the ties of her leathers. “And do not think me ungrateful - I am more grateful than I could ever do justice.”

Kissing him softly, first on the lips, and then along his neck, she walks Gale backwards until his knees hit the edge of the bed they share and he tips back onto it. Tav cradles his face in her palms and eagerly descends onto him for more kisses.

“But let us love in balance - neither of us in more power than the other.” She captures his lips in a long searing kiss as she deftly works the stays of his robes. “You must receive as much as you give.”

“Promises, promises,” Gale tries to deflect, his hands going to her sides. He is unused to being the center of attention in this way. But Tav has none of it, grasping his hands and pressing them to his sides before flipping his robe open and down to at least slow him with the fabric. She smirks at his startled appraisal.

“A vow, more like. I want nothing more than to make you feel good,” Tav emphasizes her point by slowly trailing her nails up his thighs, enough to make him jump when they grow close to his hips.

“To hear you cry my name,” she murmurs huskily. Gale gasps when she leans in to take the lobe of his unpierced ear into her mouth and nips, before kissing languidly down the column of his throat.

“To be so pleased by me that you forget all else.” Her nails trail over his chest, teasing and light, raising goosebumps in their wake.

“At minimum you hold physical power over me,” Gale counters, though a soft groan follows under her ministrations.

“I will never use my physical strength against you without your wish,” she answers easily, lavishing kisses across his collarbones, “As you would never do with your magical prowess.”

“At least allow me to participate in kind, my love,” Gale pleads, finally working his arms free of his sleeves to reach for her.

She does not rebuff his attention, but neither does her parade of kisses and touches let up. Tav knows if she lets him he will wrest control with endlessly deft teasing and masterful touches. He is a maestro conducting and her the symphony.

But today Tav wishes to produce art of her own by bestowing her every affection on Gale - to hear how he will sing for her. To show him how deserving he is of her love.

“I will not stop you,” Tav answers. “But I wish to remedy a deficit.”

“Oh, there are no deficiencies on my end, I assure you,” Gale replies. His eyes are dark and full of longing adoration as he gazes up at her.

Gale pulls her hips in to encourage her to straddle his lap. Tav goes willingly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burying a hand in his soft hair before their lips meet. But she maintains control of the pace when they start a slow grind together. A low punched out sound leaves his lips when she tugs gently on his hair at the same time she presses her hips firmly against him. Tav revels in it with a smile against his lips.

“Today I will be most pleased, Gale,” Tav emphasizes his name, knowing that it sends a shiver down his spine when she says it this way, “By lavishing my adoration on you.”

When he does not immediately acquiesce, Tav escalates. With a purposefully teasing swirl of her hips, she adds a needy plea in his ear, “Please, vhenan.”

“Who am I to deny you your pleasures?” Gale concedes with a grin.

[spongeyspot]

Your task is simple...

"Run away with me..." Molly O'Shea.

-🤡

Run Away With Me

(Molly O'Shea x Fem!Reader)

(A/N): OH. MY. GOD. Yes. Yes. Always yes.

Content Warning: Molly finally gets a happy ending, infidelity, this fluff will make your teeth fall out, a little funny at the end

not edited btw

Molly’s hands stilled when (Name) spoke to her, her bottle of amber liquid stopping just before she could take a sip, the rim pressed softly to her lips. Slowly, she lowered it, her gaze finding (Name)’s again. The words spoken were clear enough, but something in Molly wanted to have not heard her correctly. They stood together by the gazebo in front of Shady Belle, the rest of the gang too busy with celebrating the return of little Jack to pay them any mind.

“What?” Molly whispered.

“Run away with me.” (Name) repeated, this time gently taking Molly’s beer bottle, setting down on a nearby crate, then taking hold of Molly’s hands. “What d’you think?”

“I think you’re a little drunk.” Molly laughed, albiet a bit nervously. Butterflies fluttered around in her stomach. She wasn’t sure if it was because of her feelings or because of the alcohol settling in her belly, threatening to come back up. Maybe both.

“Maybe a little.” (Name) nodded, her hands squeezing Molly’s reassuringly. “But I’ve never been so sure of something my entire life, Molly.”

Molly’s breath hitched as she stared at her, tears threatening to fall from her eyes with every word she spoke.

“I want to be with you forever, Molly.” (Name) whispered, bringing her hands up to kiss her knuckles softly. “I want to marry you…”

“You do?” Molly croaked softly, her hands shaking gently in her lover’s grasp. They’d been seeing each other secretly for months. At first, Molly was just looking for companionship, but after a rather rough night, she’d kissed (Name). It was merely an accident, fueled by alcohol, but she’d never regretted it. Even now, standing in front of her, their relationship and her feelings toward her had felt stronger than anything she’d ever felt for Dutch, even during their best moments.

(Name) pulled back only slightly before taking a quick look around camp. She dropped to one knee, one of her hands leaving Molly’s to fish a gold wedding band out of her pocket. She held it up between her thumb and pointer finger, her gaze locking on Molly’s where she stood over her.  Molly started to cry, one of her hands flying up to cover her mouth. (Name) squeezing her other hand reassuringly, her own eyes welling up with tears. 

“Please, Molly.” She whispered, her voice breaking briefly. “Run away with me. Marry me. I’ll take you away from here, and we’ll be together forever.” “Forever?” Molly choked out, her chest feeling tight. She couldn’t help but think of Dutch. How he’d feel about this… would he even care? Would he even notice her absence? Lately, he’d been distant. She couldn’t remember the last time they spoke, let alone spent the night together. She wondered if he had also looked for love elsewhere. “What about Dutch?”

“Forget Dutch.” (Name) scoffed, shaking her head. She stood up on both feet, cupping Molly’s cheeks with both hands, the ring tucked away between her thumb and her palm. “I love you, Molly. I want to take you away and never come back. We can leave tonight, and no one can stop us.”

She leaned in immediately, catching Molly’s lips in a soft, sweet kiss. It lasted just a few moments, but to Molly, it felt like years, her tears staining (Name)’s cheeks. Molly’s hands found (Name)’s elbows while hers cupped Molly’s face, the ring still in her grasp. She pulled back to look into Molly’s eyes again, her gaze only leaving when it moved between them, her hands dropping from Molly’s face to take hold of her left hand, slipping the ring onto her finger. 

They shared another kiss, (Name)’s hands moving back up to cradle Molly’s face again. She ran her thumbs over her cheeks, wiping away the tears that streaked down them.

“Come on… Get your things.” (Name) whispered. “We’re getting out of here, my love.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The two of them were gone by the time people started to wake up the next morning.

“Hey!” Abigail looked around, lifting her bedroll to peek underneath it. “Where’s my ring?”

“Where’s my HORSE?!” John exclaimed.

.

"Run Away With Me" - Cold War Kids

[dilf-whore]

baby’s coming

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

genre: fluff

summary: steve stays by your side as you give birth to your first baby 

A/N: i got inspired to write this because of that one scene in vol 2 where steve talks about wanting to have 6 kids 😭 he’s so cute istg. i hope y’all enjoy reading this just as much i enjoyed writing it❣️

requested: no

requests are OPEN

masterlist

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

You hold the dishes and put them on the sink. Starting the water, you rinse them off one by one. As you were grabbing the sponge at the side, you felt liquid pouring down your legs, you look down and see that your water just broke. You quickly turn off the water and put back the sponge.

“Steve! my water broke, the baby’s coming!” you scream.

“Oh my god the baby’s coming, don’t panic Y/N. I’ve got you” Steve who’s cleaning the dining table, drops the rug and immediately rushes to grab the hospital bag and keys - opening the door, the adrenaline rushing through his body, making him leave you behind.

You quickly go after him, “you fucking moron! you forgot about me”

“Oh shit sorry!” Steve goes back to you and guides you to the car. He opens the back door and carefully sits you down. He runs to the front and hop on to the driver’s seat, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, he buckles up and starts the engine.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

You and Steve got married after the events with vecna. You both realized how much you mean to each other and how time is delicate, so Steve decided to propose to you.

It was hard though at first, some people judged you for getting married at such a young age - you both understood why but you had your reasons and you were both sure that you want to be with each other for the rest of your lives. You both went back to usual, go to college and have fun like what college students do - just the whole married thing is what made it different.

You got pregnant, two years after you graduated college. It was a surprise and scary really, but you were so happy and you were both working jobs that paid pretty well - making your worries disappear.

You immediately told the gang about the news, and they were much more excited than you and Steve - giving all of their support as much as possible.

The kids made time to visit you every chance they get, they had hectic schedules because of college but you were grateful nonetheless. Meanwhile, Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin visited you often and gave your gifts for you and the baby.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

On the way to the hospital, you were doing the breathing technique you were thought from the classes you and Steve took. Steve glances at the rear mirror and looks at you with concern “just breathe Y/N, we’re almost there”.

A few minutes later, you finally arrive at the hospital. Steve wraps his hand around your waist and you both rush inside. “she’s giving birth!” Steve shouts as you enter, nurses come towards the both of you and bring you to the delivery room. “Please let him come” you tell the nurse.

Steve follows you and hold your hand as you prepare to deliver your baby. The doctor finally instructs you to push, making you hold a death grip on your husband’s hand - he groans and bends his knees in pain. Soon he gets his composure back and focus on you.

“Get the fuck out! Agh!” you scream, sweat dripping down you face.

Steve kisses the back of your hand, “You’re doing great honey, just a little more. Push!”

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

You wake up and spot Steve cradling your baby, you smile at the sight in front of you. “Hey” you speak.

Steve sniffs and go to you, giving you the baby, “That’s your gorgeous momma, Jack.” he sniffs again.

“He’s so precious Y/N, thank you for bringing this blessing to this world. God I’m still crying” He says, tears falling down his cheek once again. You look down to your baby who’s sleeping peacefully, tears forming on your eyes “hello there little one”. You gently run your fingers through his hair, “you got your daddy’s hair for sure” you say.

Steve giggles at your comment, approaching you and placing a soft kiss on your forehead “Definitely a good mixture of Y/N and Steve” he giggles. “That’s one down, five more to go” he jokes - earning a light slap on his shoulder.

Not long after, someone barges at the door. “Where is he?” Nancy rushes to you, followed by the rest of your friends. They all gather around you, shoving flowers and gifts to Steve - completely ignoring his presence.

“What’s his name?” El asks.

“Jack” you reply softly.

“Awwww” the kids say in unison. Jonathan takes his camera and motions the rest to move aside and stay away from the frame, “alright 1, 2, 3” and the camera flashes. “Hey what about me?” Steve complains.

“Oh yeah, sorry. Get in the frame” Jonathan instructs and takes a picture. “Now everybody get in” He says as he puts his camera on the table and sets the timer, he runs beside Nancy, “smile!”

click

You look at the people around you, your eyes land on each one of them. “I love you guys” you say. And finally look at Steve and Jack, “I love you”

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

[immeasurable-depths]

Merry Christmas everyone- have some smut!

Idk where this came from, I think I was possessed by the spirit of the purple-haired lesbian. This is… quite explicit. It also became MUCH longer than expected so here’s an excerpt, the rest is on AO3. Hope you enjoy!

Then Imogen’s tongue is on her, rough and warm and wet, and all coherent thought is gone from Laudna’s mind in an instant. Imogen starts at the base of her spine, tongue wide and flat as she traces firmly up, up past her core, mapping over the vertebrae that protrude there, and Laudna can’t help but arch her back into the touch. Imogen continues up, leaving a trail of searing heat against the cold expanse of Laudna’s skin, and as she reaches the base of her neck, Laudna can’t suppress the feral moan that tears out of her throat.

Imogen stops. She withdraws her tongue and the effect is immediate; Laudna cranes her neck back almost involuntarily with a frown, desperate to keep up the contact as a petulant whine escapes her lips.

“Shh, Laudna,” she chides. Gently, oh, so gently. “We’re bein’ quiet, remember, hun?” Laudna nods frantically, desperately trying to focus on her breathing, to regain her composure as she draws breath in, out, in, out, but it’s so hard to concentrate when Imogen’s lips are ghosting against the nape of her neck. She clenches her fingers to stop herself releasing another cry, her nails digging into her thighs with the effort.

Immediately, Imogen’s hands are on top of hers, smoothing down Laudna’s curled claws, cradling her from behind. Gentle, soothing - but oh , so firm, too.

“Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” A deep kiss is pressed to the base of Laudna’s neck, and Imogen curls her arms protectively around Laudna for a moment as her legs bracket her from behind on either side. With them both in a kneeling position like this, Imogen forms a protective embrace around Laudna's porcelain frame.

“I know you’ve got the control for this, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Yes. For Imogen, yes, she does, she can - she nods and focuses on flattening her palms. Imogen’s fingers brush gently over Laudna’s knuckles, and when she retracts them, the faintest trace of fingernails scrape against Laudna’s thighs. This time, Laudna manages to suppress the whine.

Imogen’s touch is maddening. Laudna can feel her pulse pounding in her ears, and her skin is incandescent where Imogen caresses her. How the sorcerer can touch her with such care, and control, is beyond Laudna: Imogen is so deliberate and sure in her movements, tracing fascinating patterns across Laudna’s skin and marvelling at the flush her touch brings to the surface. Meanwhile Laudna trembles and shakes, so wound up that her body follows its own instincts. She squirms her legs together, desperate for some friction, any relief she can find.

Imogen freezes again.

“I didn’t say you could do that, did I?” Her voice is soft, but a threatening edge creeps in that makes ichor pool all the more between Laudna’s legs. She has never been this turned on, never in life or unlife or however she exists now, and she doesn’t know how she can bear it. Her shoulders quake as they contract inwards, another pathetic whine escaping her lips.

[floralembarrassment]

hello! i love all your one-shots but i just read he'll be alright and it's really sticking with me and i was wondering if you would consider writing a regulus pov of it? i love your writing!

Hello! Thank you for the kind words! I'm sorry this one took a bit longer, I wasn't sure how I wanted to show Regulus' side of things so I hope this does it justice! with love

I'll Try (1/1) (jegulus | the black brothers)

(CW: inferred self harm/SI - handle yourselves with care my loves!)

Regulus had woken up in a hospital after he wished he had never woken up at all. Strangely though, he finally felt something akin to joy in opening his eyes. The monitors beeping around him, the bright lights above him, the scratchy blanket over him, were all things that would normally drive him into a fit but instead he could only feel grateful for them. Because he could feel. He could feel and hear and see and smell. He could even taste the dryness of the air. Regulus was still a bit out of it so he couldn't control the smile that began forming in his lips.

As his consciousness came back online, however, he was flooded with reality. He became aware again that he was still here, and held at the same time as his gratitude some anger that he would have to keep going. Keep trying. He was so so tired and that exhaustion hadn't gone away. It was quickly hard to breath.

He realized part of the weight on his chest was his brother, and quickly nudged him to wake up and move so he could take a deep breath.

And while they were so many parts of each other, with similarities, and shared understandings, in this moment the Black brothers had very different reactions.

Sirius jumped up and tears of joy streamed down his face. "Oh you're awake, you're awake. It's okay Reggie you're okay," he rambled. He touched Regulus' face, cradling him gently like he was precious and needed protection. Regulus let him, because he let his weight fall into Sirius' palm, hoping to transfer some of his heaviness, his way of wordlessly asking for help this moment.

"Sirius," Regulus croaked. He couldn't keep his tears at bay.

"It's okay, I'm here," Sirius reassured.

"No no this is wrong," Regulus whispers.

Sirius understands immediately and Regulus knows because he sees his expression change from one of relief to one of fear. Regulus knows because he feels Sirius' hand pull away. "Reggie," Sirius starts.

"Don't ask me that Sirius," Regulus replies softly, voice still hoarse.

"I need you to promise me you won't do that again," Sirius says anyway. If Regulus couldn't see how much distress he had caused his brother he would've been angry. But Sirius always wore all his emotions on his sleeve and Regulus can see the heartbreak written in his eyes.

Regulus chooses to be honest with Sirius partially because Sirius deserves it and partially because Regulus knows part of what got him here was living for and pleasing others. But he knows his response is a let down: "I can promise you that I'll try..."

It's when James shows up that he really falters. He can feel his heart stop. Oh James he thinks. Regulus knows there are words traded between him and Remus and Sirius but he won't remember them because James is looking at him.

When James walks over and trades places with his brother, he quickly takes his hand. "I'm sorry," he whispers to James and that's what breaks James. He falls into the chair beside the bed, crying into Regulus' lap, clinging to his hand as Regulus uses his free one to brush fingers through his hair. Seeing James now, Regulus can't believe he ever forgot how much he was loved, how much he meant to others.

He chooses in that moment, like he did with Sirius to be honest with James. "Regulus," James starts once he settles.

"I promise you that I will try, James. That's the best I can do." Regulus says and James nods with acceptance.

"Please just, promise me one thing," James says tentatively.

Regulus looks at him, waiting for the ask before he agrees.

"Promise me you'll tell me, promise me okay that you know I'm here and I want to help you try." James' tears fall again slowly as he hopes and wishes.

After a moment, after a breath and some contemplation, Regulus nods his head. "Okay," he says softly and James heaves a breath of relief but cries harder anyway.

"We will have to talk more about what that looks like but yes, I will try and I will tell you," Regulus says in James' hair.

Regulus whispers over and over again, "I will try," like a new mantra or a prayer or a lie he is trying to make himself believe, until he falls back asleep with James now draped over his lap.

[a-crumb-of-whump]

Warning: Creepy whumper, choking, death threat.

It'd been a simple mistake, Whumpee had promised. They couldn't fathom the thought of purposely disobeying their new owners.

Yet here they were, pressed up against the wall with Whumper's hand around their neck. Whumper couldn't have been happier to finally have a reason to punish Whumpee - the grin plastered on their face said it all.

"'m- 'm sorry!" Whumpee squealed as a knee connected to their stomach. They cried out, knees easily giving out on them. It was only Whumper holding them up now. "I didn't m-mean to, I sw-swear!"

"Oh, Whumpee; I'm glad you interrupted my meeting. Now, I have a reason beat you, and Caretaker isn't here to save you now, are they?" As they spoke, Whumper pulled Whumpee's head forward before slamming it back against the wall once more. "Before I do what I'm about to do, I need you to promise me something. Can you do that?"

Whumpee nodded frantically.

"You are not to tell Caretaker that any of this happened."

"-b-but... Caretaker helps me get dressed in the mornings and helps me to shower. They'll know-"

"I don't care," Whumper snapped. Then, just like the flick of a switch, the seemingly kind smile returned to their face. "If they find out, I'll kill you. It'll be the most slow and painful experience you've ever had, my pretty thing. So, for your own sake, I suggest you find a way to make sure this stays between us. Do you understand me?"

Whumpee squeezed their eyes shut, several tears slipping out of them as they forced themselves to nod again. They didn't want to die. Not like this.

Thankfully for Whumpee, their moment was cut short by the sound of the front door opening, along with Caretaker's cheerful voice announcing that they were home. Whumper immediately brought Whumpee into a deceivingly warm hug, running their fingers gently through their hair as they hushed their quiet whimpers.

The second Caretaker noticed Whumpee crying, they dropped all their groceries on the floor and tugged them out of Whumper's arms, concernedly asking what had happened. Whumpee was too far gone to even speak, tears staining their face and trembling hands clinging to Caretaker's clothing. They were so scared.

Instead of prying further, Caretaker was quick to usher Whumpee off into their own room, soothingly rubbing their back as they went. They cradled them for hours, whispering gentle things into their ear and talking to them in an attempt to distract them.

Even with Caretaker's company, Whumpee didn't sleep that night. Every noise had them jumping, and every shadowed figure in the room caused a scream so loud it woke Whumper up, too. They were sure Whumper would kill them that night. So, when the sun finally started to rise the next morning, Whumpee scrambled to watch it, barely managing an exhausted smile.

"I made it!" they cheered shakily, palms pressed up against the window. "'m still here, Caretaker."

Caretaker simply gave a gentle, saddened smile back.

[sgt-morgan]

The Little Sunspot🍼

Part one: Estrellita✨

Part two: 🌙 Knight and Day ☀️

Moonknight Masterlist

Summary: The Moonboys spend one on one time with their favorite girls. It’s really damn adorable.

Warnings: AFAB reader, talk of baby puke. Inaccurate depiction of DID as made cannon by the show. Fluffy as fuck.

A/N: I really got into a baby fever hole on TikTok it’s upsetting.

The boys found an instant best friend in their daughter, that’s for sure. They were attached at the hip. Marc had her as his phone background and he kept a picture of her in their wallet, Steven’s new desk at the museum job he snagged was practically a shrine to your little girl, and Jake kept one taped to the mirror of his limo, and in the brim of his flat cap. You could often find them watching her sleep, looking down at her from their spot beside her cradle, sometimes still in the suit after they had come in from a long night. They would just stand and stare, or would stroke her chubby little cheeks. Some nights, when they really needed the contact, they would press their face close to hers through the bars and speaking in hushed tones about how beautiful she is. It was goddamn adorable. You adored how they cared for their baby, Your baby, our baby. You will never get over that phrase, our baby.

Marc took to it surprisingly like a duck to water, Instantly caring for your child with the most gentle of hands, and it was slowly becoming your obsession. It was also how you found out that your boys had a beautiful singing voice. You had just come home from a little errand for Juno, and you were loathe to interrupt your little family as they sat in their peaceful little bubble, so you watched from the door. Marc sat there, in the rocking chair with your baby, feeding her a bottle and slowly rocking her in the nursery, Jake had so painstakingly put together almost 3 months ago now. He smiled down at your little girl so fondly and stroked her soft head full of their dark curls. Aurora had her fist curled into the soft flannel he wore, and was making contented sighing noises as she fed. When the bottle was finished, Marc raised the baby to his shoulder with a shushing noise, patting her back to try and burp her. She fussed slightly, and you could see him wince, as if her discomfort caused him physical pain, and for all you know it did.

“What is it Sunspot? Miss Mama? Yeah, me too.” He sighed patting her back and standing to slowly pace with her to try and settle her cries.

“It’s ok bug, Dada’s got you, I’m here.” He shushed softly rubbing her back. Then he started softly singing, and you had to stop yourself from melting into a puddle.

“Slip inside the eye of your mind

Don't you know you might find

A better place to play

You said that you'd never been

But all the things that you've seen

Slowly fade away.”

You pushed down the urge to roll your eyes at his song choice, but you can’t begrudge him loving Oasis. You watched as he pulled her close to his chest, resting their foreheads together as he softly sang to the baby and rocked her back and fourth to the tune. You coveted the way that she stared up at her father in wonder, as if he was the moon, and how right she was.

“So I start a revolution from my bed

'Cause you said the brains I had went to my head

Step outside, summertime's in bloom

Stand up beside the fireplace

Take that look from off your face

You ain't ever gonna burn my heart out

And so Sally can wait

She knows it's too late

As we're walking on by

Her soul slides away

But don't look back in anger

I heard you say”

He finished the song and settled her in her cradle, you gently knocked and popped your head in the door, and he smiled at you, then looked alarmed to see that you were crying. He flicked the baby’s little sound machine on and rushed to you cupping your cheeks and wiping your tears as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

“What’s wrong baby? Are you ok?” He frowned gently checking your face over for injuries, and palming your hair from your face.

“Oh no, I’m fine baby.” You giggled softly, “You’re just a really good dad!” You muttered burying your face in his soft shirt, as he wrapped you up in his arms.

“Well thanks bubs!” He huffed a laugh, you had become so easy to tears lately. He kissed your head gently and swayed back and forth with you in his arms, as he had with your daughter moments ago.

“You also have a beautiful voice, you should sing more often.” You muttered looking back up at him and placing a sweet kiss to his chin.

“Sure, babe.” He sighed, pulling you gently from the room towards your own room. “I can play Guitar too, you know?” You gasped as if scandalized by the very thought.

“MARCUS JEAN SPECTOR!” You whisper shouted.

“Not my name but ok-“

“You play the GUITAR!?” You gasped and he chuckled. “You must prove it right now.”

“We don’t own a-“ you cut him off.

“I’ll make it work! You must prove to me your musical prowess.” You huffed pulling your husband closer as you drift off, contented.

Steven was hesitant at first to keep the baby on his own, which shocked you. When Steven was fronting, you barely had to lift a finger other than to feed the baby, why he would fear everything he was already doing all of the time was so strange to you.

“You’ll be gone all evening?” Steven fretted with his fingers as you lay your sleeping baby in the center of the bed, struggling to put your boob away as you pulled on bits of armory as rapidly as possible.

“Yes,” you sighed, “there are plenty of bottles of course, I made sure to also set a timer for her medicine for later. “ you grin, kissing his cheek.

“But darling I don’t know if I can-“ he sighed and you paused in your movements, curious as to what this fretting was about. “What if I can’t handle being alone with her?”

You were bewildered, Steven? Not being able to handle the baby? Nonsense, but feelings are feelings, even if it’s a baseless fear that you hadn’t even considered. “How do you mean?” You asked, flustered, but listening.

“I don’t know, it’s just normally you’re here with us , or you’re not gone long and-“ he heaves another sigh, “I’m just worried I’ll mess up.”

“Darling, you don’t need to have supervised permission to watch the baby. You watch the baby all the time. You are very, very adept at watching the baby. Hell, you watch the baby more than I do!” You rapidly rant squeezing his cheeks. (Then kissing his stupid looking puckered lips because you can’t resist.)

“But-“ Steven removes your hands and holds them, starting over, “But baby, you’ve always been home when I have the baby. What if we switch while we’re holding her, or I forget something, or I drop her, or-“

“Baby. Babies are very sturdy, your mind is essentially a steel trap filled with all things baby, and you boys have only ever been the most careful when it comes to switching while holding the baby. Nothing is going to happen, right boys?” You say turning your head to the conveniently placed mirrors in the room while you finish materializing your armor. Steven turned his head to the mirrors and his alters spoke.

“Yeah bud! We’re good, no worries. You are a great dad.” Marc encouraged.

“No te preocupes Amigo, we got this.” Jake nodded from the mirror and you pointed as if to say ‘see, told yah!’ Even though you had no idea wether or not they affirmed your suspicion. With that, you rushed out, leaving Steven to his fatherly duties.

The mission you took was a shitty one. Juno sent you across the city to Hell’s Kitchen which of course meant dealing with Daredevil. That wasn’t a bad thing in particular, but with the delicate situation you were being sent to deal with, a buff man in a scary devil suit can sometimes escalate the situation. Thankfully, you got mother and baby out of the home and into a neighbors house before Matty swung in and started beating the shit out of the Dad. The dad of course, was one of Kingpin’s cronies, so you and Matt had to spend a little more time cleaning up and getting Mom somewhere safe than you normally would. All in all, it was a four hour affair, and by the time you got home you were more than ready to fall asleep with your two favorite people curled into your side.

“Babies, I’m back!” You called softly into the apartment to no response. That was suspicious, normally when you got home there were giggles or cops or tears or kisses. Something to greet you, but instead you heard animated laughter from the other room. You snuck in quietly to see what could possibly be so funny that nobody noticed you coming in. What you found was absolutely delightful.

Steven sat on the floor with the baby leaned on a pillow facing him while he read a book. The baby of course couldn’t understand what Steven was reading to her, but his animated voice and the way he flung the book around was really getting her. You pulled out your camera and taped the two as they were enwrapped in their little giggle bubble. The sweet moment was one you would treasure for years to come on your phone, and as they wrapped up, the baby finally noticed you and babbled excitedly making grabby hands at you from her pillow. You smiled and ended the video crouching low to pick up your baby girl as Steven blushed.

“You saw all that then?” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment as if you hadn’t seen him in truly embarrassing scenarios, unlike the truly adorable display that you had just witnessed.

“Yes I was, and if it is at all inductive of your fatherhood practices, I’ll give you thirty babies. Holy shit.” You said fanning yourself in mock arousal. He laughed and gather you and the baby into his arms.

“Your clearly exhausted and have no clue what you’re talking about, let’s go to bed.” He laughed, grabbing your baby who immediately smacked both her tiny hands over his mouth and nose. He playfully bit at her fingers and she laughed hysterically once more. The force of her laughter made her make a disconcerting almost gagging noise and Steven went wide eyed and kissed her tiny palms. “Enough of that then, last time the little sunspot laughed this hard she vomited in Marc’s mou-“

“No! Baby baby baby! Don’t remind me, I’ll vomit.” You groaned, stopping to pick up the hoppy from the floor and carrying it into your bedroom. You went through your night time routine as Steven slowly helped Aurora unwind, reading to her from a book of Walt Whitman poems he had lying around. His voice was lulling her to sleep as you crawled into bed and lay with your head propped on her pillow.

Steven felt that in this exact moment, if he died he couldn’t be more content. His beautiful wife and baby, stared at him enraptured, their matching, glistening gazes staring at him with all the wonder, and safety, and love that he could ever find in a gaze. You both looked at him as if he had hung the stars. As if his words spoke into existence the majesty of the world. He had never been more grateful in his life to not have died in a dusty tomb, before he had even been conscious enough to know that a love like this could exist. He smiled, and kept reading as his girls began to drift off, tiny fingers curled around his wife’s wedding band on her left hand.

“Be not discouraged, keep on, there are divine things well envelop'd,
I swear to you there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell.”

He stopped in the middle of his reading as he watched the baby’s eyes, and then yours droop closed. He sighed with a smile, tears threatening to fall and wash away the years of solitude he stored like acid in the pits of his chest. He put the book on the side table and slipped the glasses off his nose, flicking the lamp off and snuggling up next to them. “Oh my girls, I love you both more than I could express.” He whispered, making sure they were tucked in comfortably before he settled down into a peaceful slumber.

Jake slept, ate, and breathed for his girls. Jake was alive as a protectorate, and the ease that came to his role, came as a result of their being in the System’s life. You, who sometimes seemed to be not just his wife, but a part of himself, a part he couldn’t live without. He could no longer imagine coming home to an empty flat with only the body and his system to think about. Now, his days were filled with giggles and hair ties, pacifiers and bottles, sleepless nights and nights where he slept so soundly he feared that he would wake to find it all a dream. He was especially grateful for his girls on days like to day.

There were few times you could say that your husband(s) were out of commission. Heal time was a moot point, exhaustion seemed to always be knocking, but never wiped him out, Illness seemed to never knock at his door. The only time you truly considered them out for the count, was when it stormed. Rain, rain wasn’t a bother to them, a little water was nothing, fleeting showers gave them no mind. But days like this. Days where a torrential downpour and booming thunder seemed to be the only weather pattern, was something they couldn’t live with. It had been a main factor in your move from London to New York. The rain soaked streets of England were a nuisance at best, and an ever present dread clouding your heads at worst. Back in the day, before they were all well aquatinted, Steven believed that he slept through the torrential down pour, and Marc believed that Steven always dealt with the howling winds and grey brooding skies. What really happened, was that on those days, Jake bore the brunt of the emotional turmoil. One would think that with something as small as this, after so long you would forget or learn to move on, and on good days, they absolutely did. However, there was a reason they all preferred the desert. No rain.

You awoke to the rumble of thunder, and a still sleeping husband. Upon looking out your window, you were glad that your husband was still soundly asleep, your baby however, was not. She was a content child though, kicking and babbling in her crib as she waited for one of her parents to retrieve her. You smiled at the monitor and reached for your phone. Rain all day, what a terrible thing. You looked concernedly at your husband and could tell immediately Jake was going to be the one to wake. You were again reminded that even in sleep each of them were so different, it made you smile. You got out of bed and made quick work of feeding and changing your daughter, making your way back to your room before your husband had the chance to wake. He was sleeping on his back, and he was going to wake soon you were certain, as thunder was rumbling louder than ever. You look at your daughter who was already staring excitedly at her father and decided that if today was gonna be tough, you would bring whatever pleasant things you could, and there was nothing they loved better, than their baby girl. You crawled into bed next to Jake and lay Aurora on his chest on her belly. She kicks her tiny feet a bit and babbles excitedly as you curl into Jake’s side, wrapping an arm around his stomach and resting a hand gently on your daughter’s back. She babbles and coos and he starts to stir. He finally wakes with a grin as Aurora smacks her open mouth onto his nose repeatedly in the exaggerated baby version of a kiss.

“Gracias por los besos, Mancha solar.” He grumbled cracking an eye open at the baby who grinned a toothless grin in delight, cooing louder to show her excitement at her Papá being awake. He smoothed his hand down her back and rubbed it gently and she snuggled into his chest. He smiled and spoke to her in that grumbly morning voice you were such a sucker for. “¿Me echaste de menos, niña?” He smiled faintly, still half asleep and worked an arm around your shoulders as you watched the two contentedly, stroking the baby’s soft cheek with a finger. Then, something you didn’t expect, something that felt like a tiny miracle. He started singing.

“Y por agradecer

Lo extraño de simplemente ser

Un alma curiosa, singular

Compleja en su calma y tempestad”

he sang the words softly, cuddling you both into him as he did, eyes closed, a mask of peace you’d never seen in him before.

“Dime por qué será

Dime por dónde vas

Dime”

The song was one you recognized, it was beautiful. Of course, you knew he could sing, Marc could sing, but Jake so openly making music was really shocking. You almost held your breath, too afraid to startle him into stoping.

“Y en el amanecer

Cuando todo va cambiando de color

Y vemos aparecer

Un mundo lleno de belleza y de dolor

Dime por qué será

Dime por dónde vas

Dime de dónde somos

Dime”

The baby had fallen back asleep. She was so contented as she rose and fell on his chest as he breathed. He settled to a hum to finish out the tune. he nuzzled the top of her head and smiled a bit. You smiled softly up at him and he smiled back, leaning to kiss you sweetly.

“Now then, what do I have to do to get my other amorcito to sleep?” He quirked an eyebrow at you and you shrugged with a sleepy smile.

“No se, are you gonna be ok if I go to sleep?” You said, eyes flicking towards the window. Jake heaved a heavy sigh and rubbed his eyes.

“You know what? I’m safe, mi hermanos are safe, my girls are safe, I’m gonna be ok. Go to sleep querida.” He started to slowly scratch your scalp and hummed that same tune again and you were out like a light.

Playing with your hair always worked. He heard the thunder rumbling and he turned to look. This time though, he didn’t see a reflection of himself, alone and terrified. A failure of a protector. He saw who he is now, a father, a husband. Someone people depended on, someone who has made a life for himself, and his family. He was content. And it was all thanks to his girls. He looked down at you both sleeping so soundly and he slowly reached for his phone to take a picture, setting it as their background with a smirk. Then, Jake settled back into his bed, contented to sleep.

Konshu was getting very good at watching. He liked it more and more these days. What he enjoyed watching was the shocking part though. Of course, in some ways he was always watching, his consciousness projecting vastly enough to pick up what he could of the travelers of the night, now a days though, he left the night sky to stay with his Moonknight, and his spawn. The baby was… surprisingly very interesting. She was curious and smart, and she could see him. That’s what really startled the old god. She could see him. He knew she could see him, because when he came into a room, she babbled at him, attempted to grab at his bandages as he stood over her, tried to touch his beak. It was fairly entertaining. Sometimes he even let her succeed. Letting the child grab at his clothing, his beak. He found it weirdly endearing. tonight he stood over her cradle and she started to stir, waking with a small cry. He knew the girls mother just fed her, the father changed her. It hadn’t been long enough for her to need these things again, so it was a nightmare, or boredom. He could work with that. He walked over to the crib and stared down at the child. She stopped crying and her mouth formed a tiny ‘o’ shape. He leaned in further and her curious fingers clasped his beak. He lightly clicked it at her and she giggled, looking at him in awe. He then reached up and pulled some of the moonlight from where it shone in the window. She stared in wonder at the glow, he placed it on her mobile and she stared in fascination, until she fell back asleep. Then he stepped back, and continued watching.

Steven stood in the doorway silently watching Konshu interact with his daughter. When they first got up and came to the door to see their crying baby, Jake was ready to rush in and scream at him for scaring her. Until Steven forced his way up and noticed her giggling at him. He watched as he comforted her and put her back to sleep. He smiled and left the room, crawling back into bed with you.

“She ok?” You muttered, throwing your arm back over Steven as he lay back down.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “she was just bored I think.” He pondered what he saw for a moment. “Weirdly though, Konshu took care of it.” That woke you up.

“Huh?” You said, sitting up slightly. “What do you mean?”

“He just, I don’t know… he heard her I guess and he leaned down and was playfully, he like clicked his beak at her and she giggled and grabbed onto it. He chuckled a bit, then he took some moonlight and made her mobile glow a bit and she got distracted by it and fell back to sleep and he was gone.” He said sounding rather astonished.

“Well, I mean I guess we shouldn’t be surprised, Juno babysits for us!” You shrug, leaning into your husband.

“Yeah, but Juno likes you. Konshu tolerates me! I don’t get it.” He sighs. “It’s the baby, she’s too cute, she’s cosmically cute. It’s her gift.” His comments made you laugh slightly and you settled back down to sleep.

“I think he might be getting a bit sentimental about us.” She grins.

“Maybe about you and the baby, he still calls me a worm.” He mutters and goes back to sleep.

Unbeknownst to them, Konshu was listening to them as they settled back in, and for some reason, he felt something akin to disappointment at his Avatar’s belief. He likes him, he’s just a bit incompetent. Oh well, maybe it’s time to stop calling him worm. He would ask Juno tomorrow.

[nitannichionne]

Ransom's Redemption (Chris Evans Fanfiction), Chapter 28: Our Storm

We crash onto the bed, still kissing, touching and stroking each other. We are both going under each other's clothes, me unbuttoning her pajama top, and watching her arch as I pull it off. I take those seconds right after to take off my upper layers and return to kissing her neck as my fingers pull at the straps of her bra. Her hands reach out to me and caress my face, run over my shoulders and chest. I take one of her hands and kiss the palm. I come down on my elbows and nuzzle her neck again, then nestle my hips between her thighs.

I pull back again, kneeling and pulling at her pajama pants. She lifts her hips and helps me completely undress her. She places her hands on my shoulders and unfastens my jeans. We laugh a little as we get those things off, and I return to her arms. I sigh at the skin-to-skin contact, and she echoes me. I keep running my hands over her--her neck, her arms, her sides, her breasts, her hips, even her knees. She pulls herself up again, straddling me. She cradles my head, and I rake her back gently, my hips instinctively moving to get closer to her. My breath fans her chest and she shivers.

She gasps as I turn her onto her stomach. I run my hands up the sides of her thighs and her body, my lips following up her spine. She comes up her elbows but then I take her hands and put them over her head, letting her feel my body grind against hers. Yes, baby, this is what you do to me... she rewards me, responding with a moan that shocks my spine and spreads through me. 

I lay her back on the bed again, running my lips from her inner wrists to her neck again. She rakes my back and again, she sends that lightning straight through and down my body. The ache in me sharpens and I capture one of her breasts with my lips and take it into her mouth. Her strangled cry soothes me somehow and I swirl my tongue around the tip and suck gently, riding the wave of her arching body and reveling in her moans as her thighs widen and her legs wrap around me. 

"Ransom..."

Again, the lightning.  First it was her eyes, then her touch, now it's her voice. It hurts, it burns, it strikes, yet it also addicting. It does something to all of me. And I want that in her...

I gently caress and squeeze her mound, not letting go of her breast and she gasps, the breath ending in a cry as I brace my thumb against her clit and push my finger into her core. I slightly turn her to me and we are facing each other as I kiss her again, working her though she didn't need it. She was so damn warm and wet. I moan softly as I keep going; I want more. Her breath comes in pants and her fingers grasp my already hard shaft, stroking back and forth as her thumb caresses the tip. "Yes..." I hear her moan softly, and again, I feel waves of relief coupled with a conflicting tension. "Mmmm." I move in time with her hand, and somehow in time with my own on her, in her. 

I drag my tongue down the center of her body and hold her thighs apart as I finally taste her. We both moan, and she writhes as I stay on my course. Her fingers rake my scalp and I moan with pleasure as her fingertips increase pressure at the same time my mouth does. She's whimpering, she's moaning, she's panting, and I love feeling her tremble, hearing her sounds, and knowing maybe I feel lightning, but she is drowning in the storm I'm creating in her and between us, in us. I feast on her climax and she goes slightly limp, surrendering to me.

But I could take her higher. She knew that.

I crawl up her body between her legs and lift her leg. She was completely mine now, pliable, and reaching for me. God, she was mine when we started. For some reason, my mind goes back to our first kiss-the anticipation and how our worlds collided and stood still. I close my eyes and slide into her.

"Uhhhnnn..."

I put my forehead against hers. "Oh, God." I kiss her forehead. I feel her arms tighten around me, her other leg encircle me, trying to draw me closer. I oblige, and I begin to move, slowly at first, then harder, then faster...like a wave rolling to a crest and then breaking...only to start again...and again...

I cannot and will not stop wanting her, needing her, and loving her.

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