#still not super satisfied with the clouds but oh well fuck it we ball

[trashcansienna]

Artfight for Kightlysnowy!

[in-ky]

An Old Scent [2] - Negan x Reader (A/B/O AU)

Summary: During summer break, you decide to come back home to visit your dad, Rick. Over the course of your stay, you realize that your dad's friend is pretty hot.

Warnings: Eventual smut, A/B/O dynamics, cheating, angst, age gap, Negan, a bit of gore if you squint

A/N: ok so everything is written i'm just gonna stagger posting a little bit :') 2.7k words

The first thing I woke up to in the morning was a dull ache in my lower abdomen. Great. My heat was starting up again. Growing up, Bee always asked why I never went on suppressants. I always got a bad vibe from them. Then, a few years ago, a large brand got recalled because it was shown to cause cancer in a lot of different patients. Now suppressants were harder to come by, more regulated, and needed a doctor's prescription. A lot of omegas took the hit hard, but out of it came an influx of at-home ways to take care of your heats by yourself. Super helpful for a single girl like me. When my heats started to get really bad around my junior year of high school, Bee took me out on a shopping spree and got me a bunch of toys to try and satisfy myself. It worked for a while, but they got worse as the years passed. By my age, a lot of omegas were already claimed and had an alpha to help them through their heats. I was still relying on the toys Bee had bought me. The box was tucked neatly under my bed, waiting for me. I rolled over with a small groan and sighed. The heat wouldn't be in full swing for another few days or so, so I could still go to the courthouse with my dad. Speaking of, I heard Rick shuffling down the hall and slid out of bed, gathering my bathroom stuff and walking out of my room into the small tiled room to start the day.

~~~

"So you weren't at the garage on the night of the eight?" Negan hummed, leaning against the railing in front of the tv. His eyes were glued to the face of the man sitting on the stand. The poor guy was drenched in a nervous sweat, tight blue shirt sucking at his chubby neck. He swallowed thickly and leaned forward to the microphone.

"That's correct," he croaked.

"Oh, Jeremy," Negan chuckled, shaking his head and looking at his feet. "Don't you know perjury is a criminal offense?"

"I-I'm not lying!"

"Is that so?" The alpha held up the remote to the TV "I have some footage here that directly contradicts your story, man. One last chance." He wiggled the remote teasingly and raised his eyebrows. Jeremy held his ground. "Alrighty then, let's see what we have here." He took a step back and furrowed his brow at the remote and pressed a button. The screen in front of him came to life. I had to lean forward in order to see the video, but in reality it wasn't the security tape I was watching. It was him. I couldn't look away. He had dominated the room for the past hour and a half. His deep voice was never raised, but it still carried a commanding tone that had every person sitting on the stand shaking in their boots. My eyes trailed down his body. His suit clung to him in every perfect way. His hair was slicked back in its iconic style and the way his glasses perched on his face made my insides burn. Part of me regretted seeing him like this so close to my heat, but another part couldn't imagine if I hadn't. Rick leaned over and tapped my elbow.

"We've got him now for sure." He whispered in my ear. A smile formed on my lips as I nodded to him. There was a child-like joy on his face. He really did appreciate my presence. I turned my attention back to the video screen. The footage was fuzzy, but there was a clear figure of a woman standing still hunched over what I presumed was her phone. She was texting away, fingers flying over her screen. Suddenly a large figure, who had the same height and build as Jeremy, slunk out from the shadows. He slowly approached the woman from behind and raised a crowbar high above his head. He swung it down with brutal force. There were small gasps of horror from the jury and the crowd as the crowbar connected solidly with the woman's head. She collapsed in a heap, but Jeremy didn't stop beating her until she was a pile of mush. Negan clicked the TV off.

"Well, shit, Jeremy," He boomed "I do in fact think you are lyin' to me." He tossed the remote down on his table top and gave a grim scoff. "Everyone just saw you turn poor Miss Parker's head into your personal punching bag. You still wanna claim you were no where near there?" All of the color had drained from Jeremy's round face. He swallowed again, tugging at his restricting collar. But soon, his face turned a deep shade of pink and he slammed his beefy palms on the flat surface of the box he was sitting in.

"That bitch deserved it!" He howled, gasping for air. "She had no business-" He stopped when Negan raised his hand silently.

"I really don't care," He sighed, turning around and grinning broadly when he saw the defense team resting their heads in their hands in defeat. "I'll let the jury do the rest, your honor."

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Smith." The judge said, voice prickling with annoyance. Negan returned to his bench and pulled out his seat. But before he sat down he gave Rick a small thumbs up. And I could have sworn that he flashed me a little smile as well.

~~~

"You were incredible in there!" I cheered, giving Negan a high five. The contact made my skin tingle, but I passed it off as the consequences of the impact. "You really made that guy tremble like a kid!"

"It's what I do," Negan chuckled deeply. He looked around me and furrowed his brow. "Where's your dad?"

"He's pulling the car around," I said "I just figured I should let you know how good you did before I leave." He was so close. He smelled so good. The same combination of whiskey and campfire that could get me drunk in a few breaths. I was so focused on his intoxicating musk that I didn't notice the group of alphas that were headed our way. Negan did, though. I heard a rumbling from his chest and felt a hand clasp around my shoulder. Confusion clouded my mind and I looked up to him for some answers.

"The next case is starting soon," He said smoothly "Let's go wait for your dad outside." I agreed and he steered me out onto the steps of the courthouse. The short skirt and heels I was wearing weren't exactly comfortable for walking down stairs, so I held onto Negan's forearm as he guided me down to street level. There was a small breeze and I saw his jaw tense as a soft gust of wind swirled up from behind me and into his body. It no doubt carried my scent on it, and an alpha like Negan could probably tell what state I was in.

"So," I sighed, looking to engage him further "What's next?"

"Well," He tilted his head and ran a hand over his bear-covered chin. "Jeremy goes to jail. Your dad and the department get praise. And I get to go to the bar for a celebratory drink." He paused for a moment, looking me up and down quickly. "You want to join me?" I opened my mouth to say something. To be honest, I wasn't sure what I was going to say. I didn't really drink, but I was willing to do absolutely anything that Negan wanted. But it was then that Rick rounded the corner and gave the horn a little honk.

"I would love to," I settled on "But dad has a full day of father-daughter fun times planned, and I don't really want to keep him waiting." I gestured awkwardly to where Rick was sitting in the car, bopping his head gently to incoherent music.

"Totally understand, doll." He grinned.

"Maybe another time, though?"

"For sure."

"See you around, Negan."

"Bye, doll, have fun. And be safe"

~~~

Negan was pleasantly buzzed, as per usual. He got off his motorcycle and hung his helmet on the handlebar before lightly stumbling into the house from the dark garage. The sight he saw he did not expect. There sat his fiancé in the living room, arms crossed over her chest with a pissed expression on her face. And beside her was a woman he knew all too well.

"The hell is goin' on here?" He asked, slurring his words slightly.

"I could ask you the same thing, Negan."

"Lucille, what the fuck is she doing in our house?"

"Oh, so you know her?" Lucille growled. Negan just licked his lips and flicked his gaze between the two women sitting in front of him. "Of course you do. You have been fucking her after all." Negan groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"Baby, please-" He started, but Lucille cut him off.

"Don't you dare," She hissed, jumping to her feet and balling her hands into fists "You don't get to call me that after what you've done, Negan. You slept with another woman. Hell, maybe more than one. You ruined our relationship." Negan took a step forward but Lucille raised her hand and pointed to the kitchen table. "Don't take another step. Your stuff is in that box." Negan looked to see a cardboard box sitting alone in the dark kitchen, his belongings poking out of the top. "I never want to see you in my house again."

"Lucille, can't we just talk about this? You don't understand." He pleased, extending a hand to her. She batted it away.

"There's nothing to talk about." She spat "You cheated on me, Negan! What is there to understand? How can you expect me to forgive you for that?" A moment of silence passed between them. The other woman shifted uncomfortably on the couch. Negan glared at her before turning his eyes back to his now ex-fiancé.

"I have no where to stay." He whispered.

"That's not my problem." Lucille said boldly "Take your shit and leave. Don't come back. We're done."

~~~

I stirred the pot of spaghetti while humming a song I heard on a radio earlier. The father-daughter activities had consisted of driving around town and revisiting old spots we used to go to when I was younger. We got ice cream at the shop down the street and then watched the sun set at the park that we used to picnic at. It was nice. College did really fix our relationship. The TV in the next room hummed quietly and Rick was talking on the phone with someone. I heard him hang up and walk into the kitchen.

"Think there's enough in there for three?" He asks with a sigh, looking over my shoulder.

"Should be, why?" I return, meeting his gaze. He takes a deep breath and scratches his neck.

"Um, well, Negan's fiancé kicked him out of the house. Apparently she found out he was cheating on her. He doesn't have anywhere to stay." He mumbled "He's gonna be sleeping here for a bit." I stopped stirring. The water started to bubble too close to the top, but I blew a gust of air to push it down.

"Why here?" was all I could muster.

"He really helped me with your mom. It's the least I can do."

I just hummed in acknowledgement and returned to my cooking. So Negan was engaged. And he CHEATED on his fiancé? Maybe I didn't know Negan as well as I thought I did...

~~~

"I just can't believe she kicked me out!" Negan seethed, shoveling a spoonful of spaghetti into his mouth. He was still chewing when he continued. "She didn't even give me a chance to explain myself!"

"I hate to say it, but you did cheat on her, buddy," Rick said carefully, not wanting to poke the angry alpha in the wrong way "She's upset."

"I was in a rut." Negan growled.

"For four months?"

I was making a plate for myself, listening to the conversation from across the room. Rick's phone buzzed on the kitchen table and he picked it up.

"Sorry, I have to take this." He sighed, shaking his head and standing to his feet. He left the room and suddenly it was just me and Negan. I took my plate to the opposite head of the table, watching Negan wolf down his dinner.

"This shit is really good, sweetheart," He groaned. Normally, the noise would have sent me over the moon. But there were so many other emotions clouding my mind. "You ever consider changing your major to culinary arts?" I didn't say anything, just twirled my fork in my serving of pasta.

"Why'd you do it?" I said quietly, almost in a whisper. Negan paused instantly.

"What?"

"Why'd you cheat on her?" My eyes never left my plate but I could hear him shifting in his seat, rubbing his face while trying to answer my question.

"I don't know," He said. His voice was soft, sincere. Something I had never heard from him before. My eyes drifted up and met his. They were the same tawny color, but there was something else behind them. Something I couldn't distinguish. "I thought...Something was off in our relationship. I guess I thought that I could fix it by trying something different. I ran into Tanya at a bar a few months ago. She's a beta, just like Lucille. Wanted to be with an alpha. I gave in. Just for a quick fuck, didn't mean anything. I didn't like her. I told her that but...she...she wanted more, I guess. She fucking threatened me. Threatened to ruin my life unless I kept seeing her. I chose to do it. I don't know if that decision was the right one or not but it's the one I made. I texted her last night to tell her it was over. Never fucking thought she would come to my home." I was chewing the inside of my cheek the whole time he was speaking. I didn't know how much of his story was true, but he sounded like he was hurting.

"Why did you break it off?" I whispered.

"That's your damn question?" He scoffed, giving a short smile. He looked in my eyes. I knew the answer. Or at least I thought I did. He opened his mouth, but Rick reentered the room before he could say anything.

"Alright, sorry about that guys," He said, slipping back into his seat. "What did I miss?"

~~~

Negan was set up in the bedroom next door to mine. Our doors faced each other from across the hall. We would have to share a bathroom. Rick didn't seem to have a problem with it, but with my heat starting I wasn't too sure about the whole arrangement. I felt more cramps riddle my body. I was ready to bed, ready to curl up in a ball and go to sleep, but something called me across the hall. Curiosity got me and I turned slightly, walking up and leaning on the doorframe. There was Negan, clad in grey sweatpants and a black tank top, unpacking his things.

"Hey," I said quietly, not wanting to startle him. He turned around. He looked older like this, hair unkempt and his glasses on. When he saw me his lips curled in a smile. Any trace of vulnerability I had seen earlier was now gone.

"Hey to you."

"I just want to apologize for earlier," I said "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I'm also sorry that you have to be subjected to me and my dad for the foreseeable future." He let out a snicker and shook his head.

"Don't worry about it, doll. And you're not that bad. I appreciate Rick; he's a good man." He scratched his beard and looked over at the clock next to the bed. "It's late, you should get some rest." He took a deep breath and I nodded. I turned to leave but he called my name softly. "You know I meant what I said last night, you are looking good." I smiled but didn't say anything and crossed the hall, shutting my door and hopping into bed.

[lucidlrh]

Hell Bent

word count: 1.4k

summary: basically just a mindblowing one night stand with demon!luke

warnings: SMUT, kinda rough sex, choking, degradation, etc.

a/n: hello it’s my birthday!! this is super rushed but hope you guys like it :p ALSO this is totally inspired by @lukeinblue​‘s fic about demons OKAY COOL

masterlist

“Are you lost, ma’am? Because heaven is a long way from here.”

You snorted, looking up from your drink to face the tall stranger and a part of you wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. He looked like a damn angel, skin glowing from the dim lights at bar. His golden curls were pushed back, but a few locks had fallen over his face, framing his baby blues perfectly. He looked like he was sent straight from the heavens, but you were smarter than that.

“I would say the same to you, but we both know that no angel would step foot in here,” you retorted, turning your head to glance over the dingy bar. It was dimmer than most places, giving off an eerie and uninviting vibe.

The stranger hummed as he sat down on the stool next to you, “Now, what’s a pretty little human like you doing at a place like this?”

“A friend invited me.” The man raised his brows, silently probing for more information. You rolled your eyes, “Irwin.”

“You’re fucking a vamp?” he scoffed, shaking his head slightly.

“Never said I was fucking him,” you laughed, stirring your drink, but the man’s expression didn’t change.

“You want to fuck him though. Your thoughts are pretty loud.”

You stilled your movements, looking back up and narrowing your eyes, “You’re a demon.” It was more of a statement than a question; everyone who knew anything about supernaturals knew that only demons had the ability to read thoughts.

The man grinned, “You can call me Luke.” 

“Y/N,” you replied, meekly.  

He studied you for a second before speaking again, “You’ve never met a demon before, have you, princess? I’m not scaring you, am I? You’re not nearly as confident as you were a minute ago.”

“I’m not scared,” you mumbled quickly, trying to shake off the goosebumps rising on your arms. All supernaturals were dangerous in some regards, but the things you had heard about demons had put them at the top of the chain. They were cold and ruthless without a single care in the world.

Luke hummed again, clearly not impressed by your attempt to look less intimidated than you are, “You forget that I can read your thoughts, love.”

“That’s not fair, you know.”

“Yeah, well, it sure does make things more interesting. Right now you’re wondering where the hell your vampire fuck-buddy is, right?” You scowled, but stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. “Hate to break it to you, darlin’, but Ashton left a while ago. Found his blood bag for the night, I suppose.”

You groaned, looking back down at your drink, when Luke let out another laugh.

“Damn, you really wanted to fuck him, huh?”

 You glared back up at Luke, “No, I didn’t.”

 “Lying isn’t a good look on you, princess,” he tutted, “Besides, I know everything you’re thinking. And right now, you just want someone to take you home and fuck you good.”

“Lu-”

“I could help you out with that, you know?” Luke purred, cutting you off and smirking at how you shifted in your seat at his voice. “I know you love supernaturals because of the risk. You like danger, don’t you? Why don’t you let the most dangerous one of them all take care of you?”

You looked back up at Luke, “You can read my mind, why don’t you tell me?”

Luke smirked, “Oh, I already know, but I wanna hear you say it.” He reached out slowly, letting his thumb tap your bottom lip before dragging it down slightly.

You shuddered involuntarily, cursing lowly under your breath. Luke’s eyes were still watching you intently, and you made your decision, mumbling, “Fuck me.” 

“Good girls use manners.” 

The bratty side of you wanted to roll your eyes, but you suppressed the urge, sighing, “Fuck me, please.”

 Luke smiled, satisfied, and gently grabbed your arm, pulling you up. Before you could even blink, you had been whisked off to a large bedroom.

 “Is this-” 

“Hell? Not quite,” Luke grinned, before letting his gaze slip down your body. “Now, can you be a good little girl for me and strip?”

You sucked in a breath, undressing as quick as possible, while Luke just watched.

 “Look at you, all pretty just for me,” Luke murmured, approaching you, “Can I touch you, Y/N?” You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nodded, and Luke tutted, “Words.”

“Yes, sir.” You were sure you made the right decision by calling him that when a low, appreciative groan came from the demon in front of you. You watched in amazement as his eyes clouded to black for a moment before flickering back to their original color.

“Look at you, already being such a good slut for me. Get on the bed princess.”

You complied immediately, and Luke trailed behind you. He kneeled down in front of where you were sitting and gently pried open your legs, humming appreciatively at the sight of your dripping core.

“What do you want, darlin’?” He mumbled, lazily rubbing your clit in tight circles.

“Please- fuck! Please touch me, sir,” you whined, throwing your head back.

“Yeah? You want my fingers, babe? Want me to fuck your little pussy with my fingers?” You nodded furiously, balling up the silk sheets in you fists. Luke grinned, “Lay back for me, love.” 

You did as you were told, falling back onto the bed with a soft thud, when Luke pushed two fingers into you suddenly.

 “Fuck!” you gasped, arching off the bed. Luke began finger-fucking you quickly, using his thumb to press down on your clit and his free hand to ghost up and down your thigh. The sensations were almost too much, energy radiating off of Luke into you. Within a few minutes, you were clawing at the sheets, moaning loudly. 

“You close, princess?” You could only moan in response, to which Luke chuckled darkly. “Go on, then. Cum all over my fingers like the slut you are.”

You let go with a yelp, gasping as Luke rode you through your high. When you finally came down from your high, Luke pulled his fingers from you, letting his lips wrap around them while you watched, arousal running through you.

“On your hands and knees,” Luke ordered after a moment, and you scrambled up. You could faintly hear the sound of metal clinking and the soft thud of Luke’s pants and boxers hitting the ground somewhere through the blood rushing in your ears.

Luke ran his hand down your spine, massaging your ass before it came down on it harshly, “Ready, love?”

“Yes, sir.”

Luke didn’t waste a moment. He slid into you easily, letting you adjust for a moment before setting a brutal pace. You were whimpering and moaning under him, and Luke groaned, reaching out and tugging your head up by your hair roughly. You could just barely see his face from your position; he was completely blissed out, head thrown back as he pounded into you.

His eyes met yours briefly, and they clouded back to black as he picked up his pace. You squealed, feeling the knot in your stomach start building up again. Luke’s fingers left your hair, this time wrapping around your throat and pulling you up so you were flush against his chest.

 “You like this? Like being fucked like this by a demon?” It was cruel of him to expect a reply, but he tightened his grip around your neck anyways, causing blood to rush to your head. “Answer me.”

“I love- fuck, I love it, Luke,” you moaned, pressing into him. “I’m close.”

“Yeah? Hold it.”

“I can’t,” you whined, “Luke, I can’t-” 

“Hold it,” he growled into your ear, and you screwed your eyes shut. He continued for a few more moments, his thrusts starting to get sloppy.

“Fuck, look at you, all blissed out for me,” Luke groaned, “cum for me, princess.”

You let go with a scream, and Luke followed right behind you. He pulled out and admired the sight of him dripping out of your fucked out pussy. You knees gave out a moment later, and you collapsed onto the bed.

A part of you expected him to just leave you there to catch your breath, so you were surprised when you felt a pair of strong arms lift you up and carry you to the bathroom. He set you in the huge tub and let it fill with warm water as you smile up at him, lazily.

“Getting soft on me, huh?” 

Luke grinned down at you, teasingly, “Wouldn’t dream of it, babe.”

--

a/n: i’m bad at endings SORRY,, also sorry for any typos i wrote this at like 3am last night

taglist: @lukeisbaby @softforcal @sexgodashton @lilaclrh​ @valentinelrh​ @irwinkitten​ @irwintry​ @lukeinblue​ @hookedonashton​ @sublimehood​ @cakesunflower​ @hemmoniac​ @sanrioluke​ @itjustkindahappenedreally 

send me an ask to be added or removed!

[hazelandglasz]

From prompt list #2 can you combine 1, 40, 67, 98, and 99? Make it a Klaine story, please? Fluff and smut and a little angst would be awesome right now!

1. “I’m just trying to help.” “Well, I hate to break it to you, but you just made it worse.”

40. “I know you’re trying to push me away, but I won’t let you.”

67. “Come here, I want to show you something.”

98. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

99. “Run.”

Wooza! Okay, going for what comes up, un-beta’ed! (Why did my mind went for the vampire storyline, God only knows)

“Run.”

“Kurt, I--”

“Blaine, don’t start debating it now! Just, run!”

Blaine’s legs don’t wait for his brain to catch up with the urgency in Kurt’s voice, and already carry him as fast and as far away as possible.

Behind him, from the unlit alley, snarls and growls can still be heard.

Blaine tries to catch his breath, but all that adrenalin is still pumping in his veins.

Sparks suddenly appear at his fingertips, and he clenches his fists to control and hide them.

What is he doing?

He knows that those vampires are not like Kurt and Tina, they’re not ... opposed to the idea of leaving a trail of murders behind them.

The louder the killing the better, for them.

But Kurt is ... is alone.

Blaine should never have left him alone to fend for himself. Especially if he can help.

Kurt’s worry still echoes in his ears as he makes a turn, running back to the fight.

Two of their attackers are laying on the ground, slowly turning into dust--as opposed to when they die by the hand of a slayer, when the dusting is immediate--and one is glaring at the fight while rummaging through the garbage.

(It takes Blaine longer than it should have to realize that he’s looking for his arm. Yuck.)

But Kurt is still facing the wannabe leader of the pathetic little gang of bloodsuckers.

The vampire grins when she sees Blaine approaching, and Kurt glances over his shoulder.

Blaine doesn’t need super-senses to hear or see the panic that takes over him.

“Blaine! I told you to run!”

“I want to help!”

“You’re not!”

“I’m just trying to help!”

“Well, I hate to break it to you,” Kurt seethes, “but you just made it worse.”

“Don’t mind me,” the vampire says while inspecting the blood under her nails (again, yuck). “I love a good lover’s spat.”

“Been too long since you got one?” Blaine mocks, and Kurt makes a “what the fuck are you doing” gesture with his hands.

“Oh, the human-pet wants to play,” the vampire drawls, and Blaine tries, really, really hard not to roll his eyes. He really does.

He fails, but he really tries. “Can you not,” he simply says, before pushing Kurt away. “Kurt, don’t look!”

The second he knows Kurt is safely behind the wooden beams, he opens his hands and lets the sparks flow.

The bolt of lightning they form go straight for the vampires still alive, striking them from head to toe and leaving them to be consumed just as fast as the sparks were unleashed.

Kurt blinks, fangs still apparent, as he steps forward. “What--what was--you--Blaine, what the fuck?”

Blaine turns, the sparks “satisfied” and retreating from wherever they come from his core. “Kurt, are you okay?”

Blaine barely took a step forward but Kurt holds his hand up. “No, no, don’t you dare--what did you--I--you lied to me?”

“I never li--”

“You omitted to say you were a mage, okay. Don’t play with words, Blaine! You--I ... Was it all a ploy?”

“What?”

“It must be,” Kurt whispers, his voice bouncing off the walls of the alley. “You never loved me, did you? You were just trying to use me to get to more vampires to add to your kills ...”

“Kurt, stop.”

Kurt does stop, his eyes wide and sad as he looks at Blaine. “What? Are you done with me? Had your fun?”

“Kurt. Let me speak for one second. I know you’re trying to push me away, and I won’t let you.”

Kurt remains silent, but tension still inhabits his whole body, ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.

“I never lied to you, even as a white lie.” Blaine says, reaching with one hand but holding it back. “I always thought the Touch had skipped me and Coop, going from my nana to my mom and maybe awaiting the next girl in our family. But tonight, when you told me to run, when you tried to protect me, it ... it moved something within me, and it unlocked it, I guess?” Blaine sighs. “The moment it manifested, I came back. To you. For you. Because I--I had to be with you, to help you and defend you. I never meant for you to think I would--that I could--that I didn’t ...” Tears gather in Blaine’s eyes and the lump in his throat is overwhelming, but he powers through. “I will always love you Kurt, more than I ever thought I could and more than I ever will, no matter what.”

Kurt has progressively relaxed through Blaine’s speech, and he seems on the verge of crying as well.

“I--oh Blaine, I’m sorry, I was so--,” Kurt starts, rushing to Blaine to pull him close, so tight that Blaine’s breath is knocked out of him for a second. “I was so worried they would kill me and then you, or worse, you and then me, or leave me to watch you die, I... I have never loved anybody the way I love you, too,” he continues, pulling back to look deep into Blaine’s eyes. “And I will never love anybody else.”

Blaine cups Kurt’s face in his hands and pulls him into a deep kiss.

Kurt sighs happily when they step apart. “Come,” he says, taking Blaine’s hand as they go deeper into the now empty alley. “There is something I want to show you.”

“In the garbage?”

“No, silly. Come here.”

They stand at the wall that closes the alley and above them, the moon appears from behind the clouds.

Blaine looks up, smiling at it, before returning his attention to Kurt.

Whose eyes are now entirely black, and filled with stars, while his fangs are out.

“Wow.”

“I wanted to show you my true nature.”

Blaine kisses Kurt as softly and as carefully as he can, before smiling. “My turn.”

Blaine focuses, feeling the Spark in his heart and lets it out into a soft ball of light that seems to bounce in the air between them before going up, up into the night sky.

“Wow,” Kurt lets out. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Me neither. But once the power is out, it unlocks a lot of things.”

“May I suggest you have a long talk with your mom before you start playing with the lights? Especially when they can be as massively destructive as proven just moments ago?”

Blaine leans his forehead against Kurt’s shoulder, a shaky laugh escaping his mouth. “You’re right. It’s ...”

“A lot.”

“Yeah, sums it up quite well.”

“Now, come on,” Kurt says, wrapping his arm around Blaine’s shoulders. “We did have a date ahead of us before we were so rudely interrupted.”

[stealinghero]

Hi! How about some angst with jigen?

Uhm…. well…. it IS angsty… it IS Jigen…. it’s not nice. I held it as “harmless” as I could, but still want to warn my readers that the following is NOT a cute little story. it’s not quite 18+, but at least 16+. Please remember that while reading at your own risk: (Warning for blood and a few sausages)

It had been a great day so far. Warm, for late autumn, and dry. So why didn’t he said he would accompany his s/o to the super market? Why had he simply nodded and had taken the bags from before to go ahead and prepare something to eat?

And why the fuck was he now watching the screen helplessly, his hands balled into fists.

“So, if you want your little birdie here back? You better come out and play, Jigen. I’ll tell you the place and time later. Let me have some fun first.” The video came to an end.

“Any clues?” Lupin looked at him, uneasy and kind of prepared if Jigen should explode in a fit of rage.

“I know this voice. It’s old, I can’t pinpont it,” the gunman sat down and stared at the black screen, seething with rage but unable to vent it.

“It sounded like a warehouse or empty factory. Something big,” Lupin thought and began to watch the video again.

“If you play it one more time, I’m going to strangle you.”

“Okay.” And the screen stayed black.

 “Did you already remember me? Or are you getting old, Jigen? Losing your teeth already, tiger? Let me show you my work so far.”

In the darkness of a warehouse a figure had been hung from above by their wrists. The camera zoomed in on a puddle of blood under this figure, wearing his s/o’s shoes.

“I take it, you do remember me now. I wonder what kind of gift I should prepare for our reunion?”

His fingers turned white as Jigen clawed into the cushions of the couch he was sitting on.

“Maybe a leg? No, don’t worry. It’s you I want.”

He growled at the screen.

“Tomorrow night, ten after midnight, you already know where, right? In this dirty city there is just one place I would love to meet you at. Be punctual. And leave your friends at home. Or I will begin with their bodies, one by one, making you watch.”

The screen went black with the end of the video.

“Who is he?”

Letting out the breath he had held in and leaning back Jigen scratched his beard.

“A ghost of the past, I take it. Where is the meeting place?” Goemon watched his friend and his growing anxiety.

“Doesn’t matter.” The gunman got up and took his hat. “It doesn’t concern you.”

Lupin blocked his path. “We are coming with you, concerning or not. The victim is one of our friends and I hate it if someone hurts my friends.”

Strong hands, wrapped around his collar, lifted him a few inches from the floor.

“You will NOT come.”

Lupin nodded, eyes filled with something that someone could call fear. After being released and pushed away by his friend, he coughed and rubbed his throat where the collar had chafed it.

A quick glance at Goemon had the samurai nodding, just in the same moment Jigen slammed the door.

 “Okay, we have a warehouse. Did you see the little cloud of fog when panning to the wrists?”

Goemon nodded, already aware what kind of warehouse they were looking for.

“Maybe this?” he suggested and pointed out an abandoned meat factory on the map Lupin had spread across the table. “If the cooling system still works, they will need access to electricity.”

“I never knew you were this smart. Okay, who was this guy talking?” The two had watched the videos over and over in order to find any clues to rescue their friend, but it was hard to find anything. A man did the talking but was never shown. The camera only showed Jigen’s s/o, unmoving, covered in a shadow.

“If Jigen reacts like this, it is serious,” Goemon thought loud and looked at the thief. “He never attacked you like this before.”

“He attacks me on a daily basis, Goemon.”

“Verbal, yes. With a gun, yes. But did he ever touch you like this?”

Lupin let out a sigh.

“No,” he admitted, remembering the feral glow in Jigen’s eyes when he had lifted him from the floor. He knew about the past of his friend. A mercenary, a skilled gunman. But these were the eyes of a cold-blooded killer – and Lupin had problems in bringing those eyes together with the laughing Jigen.

“Let’s go and look around at this factory. There we will find moreclues, I suppose.”

“Let me make some calls before.” Lupin raised and took his phone.

“Are you calling the Inspector?”

“I don’t like it myself, Goemon. But depending on what’s happening, I would like to have the police behind my back. Jigen said so himself, it’s someone old. And that can just mean one thing.”

“The mafia?”

“Before that. He ran with a bunch of strange people back then. If I remember right they all were quite disturbed. A kidnapper, a… ew.”

Goemon looked at the thief who had grown pale. “Ew?”

“Remember what the guy said? He wondered if he should prepare a leg as a gift.”

Goemon nodded, waiting patiently what conclusion brought Lupin to react like that.

“I remember this group clearly. A psychotic arsonist, one of the worst sort, he was killed by Jigen years ago. A woman, pretty little thing, was in this group too. I think she had a knack for abducting rich kids and releasing them for quite high sums.”

The samurai raised his hand, impatient. “This is not relevant.”

“The woman was thrown into jail and I think she died there a few years ago. But there was our actor here. A really strange guy. He was the reason I didn’t talk with Jigen before all this, even if he had caught my eye.”

“Could you please hurry?!”

“Right! Hurry!!” With these words, Lupin grabbed his jacket and raced to the door. “Come!! We don’t have time if I’m correct!”

 And again, this time was the fifth. If nothing happened now, he would be satisfied.

With calm fingers, his whole body shaking because of the cold in his mind, he put the bullets in the round chamber.

When he had come here, the building was abandoned once more. Nothing left to give him clues where the bastard had taken his s/o now. Only the puddle of blood reminded him of his own failure. If he had been there. If he had been the one shopping for the last ingredients. If…

Jigen let out a sigh. This game of mind wouldn’t bring him to any reasonable end. And it wouldn’t save his s/o. He had to do this himself.

Standing up he looked around calmly, lifting his loyal Magnum.

The index finger first on the side of the trigger, the end joint slightly on the trigger, no strength in the said finger.

Focus on the target, the index finger slides on the trigger up to the second phalanx, any more will just obstruct pulling without hesitation.

A bit of strength is enough to pull the trigger. The secret is in the recoil, wandering through the arm. When the wrist is pulled upwards, release the index finger, put it back on the side of the trigger.

The left hand catches the gun, loads another bullet into the barrel, the whole left hand, the outside edge, is used to cock the hammer while moving towards the body, flowing back away from the body and bring the gun down again, while the index finger slips back on the trigger. Give it a go.

The hole the bullet left was slightly bigger than he had anticipated but he had calculated the reaction of his victim exactly.

A silver line flashing in the darkness of the old warehouse told him everything he needed to know.

“I thought I told you to stay put,” Jigen mused while refilling the lost bullet in the chamber.

“And I told you they’re my friend, too!” Lupin touched his slightly singed hairs where Jigen’s bullet had missed him by a few millimetres.

Goemon cleared his throat.

“Sorry, Goe, our friend.”

“I don’t need your help.”

 Half an hour later the three thieves were on their way through the maze of abandoned warehouses, empty shells of left to rot factories and even two rusting cars.

“The second on the left.” Jigen had been silent the whole time, going ahead, his comrades following him in a distance.

Lupin eyed the warehouse. “That’s nasty.”

Goemon nodded. After Lupin had told him the whole story on their way to Jigen, even the stoic samurai had needed a few deep breaths to calm himself down. And now they were in the middle of a dead district, standing before a warehouse called “Mikey’s gourmet supplies”.

“His humor always was a bit off.”

“A bit off?! We are talking about…,” Lupin was cut off by a gesture from Jigen.

In the dim light before them two people were fighting. One was bound, getting dragged along, trying to fight or to escape. The other was a small man, thin and with almost spindly build. The whole situation could have been comical to look at, if the man hadn’t had a butcher’s cleaver in his hand.

Slowly, the three crept closer as soon as the man vanished into the building.

“Any plan of attack?” Lupin had the courtesy to ask Jigen before sharing his own plan.

“I’ll go inside, you stay here.”

Not amused with his answer, Lupin gave Jigen a nudge.

“We’ll find a way inside to help you if things get nasty!”

“Are you really that stupid? He won’t be alone,” Jigen shot back.

“It’s almost the agreed time, Gentlemen. Jigen, you go, we will be there if you’ll need us.”

Goemon seldom used his stern voice while discussing plans, shutting the two others up.

“Good luck, partner.”

Jigen went without another word.

 “The great Jigen Daisuke… welcome to my little private show.”

“Where are they?”

“Oh, not so fast, Jigen. I thought we could catch up on the old times. You’ve grown so much.”

“Where are they?!”

A switch was operated and the lights turned on, revealing both the kidnapper and Jigen’s s/o.

“What a lovely sight. Pure terror on your face suits you, Daisuke.”

He had to fight the urge to run to his bleeding s/o, not sure if they were still breathing. He knew what would happen then, so he stood still in his place, begging his s/o in his thoughts to move, to give him a sign that there was still life in them.

“They’re unconscious. For now. Behave and they will survive this. Sit down.”

Looking around, Jigen found the table he had dreaded and followed the command.

“First round. Appetizer.”

He rose from the chair as the plate was set down in front of him, but strong hands pushed him back down. Two different pairs of hands, he acknowledged in an afterthought.

“Don’t worry, they are not from your lovely little birdie. I had enough to do in the last months.”

Of course. The killing spree held this city in its claws for almost 6 months now. He had read about it in the newspaper. And still he had left his s/o’s side… what an idiot he was.

“Eat up.”

Without batting an eyelash, he took the first little sausage and ate it.

“Good boy!” The kidnapper reached to the plate and took himself one of the sausages to eat.

“You see, I’m behaving. Why don’t you let them go?”

“Your little bird? Nah, that would be too dangerous for me, you see? Because I know who you are, Daisuke. I know how many people you’ve killed so far. And I’m not stupid enough to be one of them.” His enemy snickered and looked up to the door behind Jigen.

“But I see we have more guests than I have anticipated. Daisuke, you should have told me you were bringing your friends, so I could’ve prepared more food.”

He didn’t have to look to know that Lupin and Goemon were brought in by the lackeys of his torturer.

“Sorry, we’re not very hungry!”

Of course, Lupin had to make a show out of his capture. Trying to fight, knowing deep down that it was a dead end. Those lackeys had the power of a super human being, consisting of dead meat and an empty mind.The golem of an experienced self-called necromancer.

“I never said you were getting fed, my friend. YOU are the main dish.”

Jigen reached out to the man next to him, only to have his wrist grabbed and crushed with a sickening sound. He screamed in pain, waking up his s/o that began to stir in their ropes.

“Jigen!” Lupin had to understand by now what those things were he was fighting against.

“Silence! I will not suffer this insolence anymore.”

“Alice, let them go. You want me, you can have me. Let them go!” Clutching his broken wrist, Jigen was close to tears from the sheer pain. But the man just laughed.

“No. I wanted to break you. To make you suffer. Because you know what? That dirty little lowlife you killed 3 years ago? That was my son.”

Jigen took a breath. He had known it. He had known it and had pulled the trigger nonetheless. He was getting paid for killing this man.

“He stole money from my last contractor. I was hired.” That was the iron rule. You get paid and you do the job. Even some madman like Alice had to see that.

“Oh, it’s that easy? How much do you want? I’m buying you to kill your friends here. I’ll even give you a little extra if you help me prepare the main dish.”

“Fuck you.”

Alice took a handful of Jigen’s hair and yanked his head up.

“Then tell me, Daisuke. Your little birdie here or them. Who do you want to kill?”

“Lupin.”

He had done this. Both of them had stood on different sides of the gun before and had survived. He could pull this off again if he was given the chance.

“Fine. I’m giving you 5 chances to kill him. Bring the puny one.”

His brain dead lackeys moved with ghostly silence, dragging a still fighting Lupin with them.

Alice took the thief’s hand and placed it on the table before Jigen, fingers outstretched. Next to it he placed the cleaver.

“Take your gun and shoot him.”

Slowly he reached for his Magnum and set the barrel against Lupin’s forehead, praying for a wonder.

“One.” Before he had even the chance to pull the trigger, Alice had reached for the cleaver, spinning it in his hand, letting the blade come down on the table.

Lupin and Jigen stared at the clean cut off finger on the white table cloth, now slowly soaking up the blood.

“Two…” the cleaver was lifted again, ready to strike.

Jigen closed his eyes and pulled the trigger.

The sound of a shot exploded in the almost empty warehouse as hell broke loose.

 “Inspector!”

Zenigata turned around from his arrests and watched his assistant taking one of the sausages off of the table.

“A sausage?” carefully he sniffed it and opened his mouth to eat it.

“That’s a cooked human finger, Yata,” Zenigata told the young man

With a faint smile he let his assistant run outside to throw up.

“Youth.”

Jigen looked up from his sitting position.

“Why are you here?!”

“A little ‘thank you’ would be nice, Jigen. After all we saved you bunch from killing each other.”

“And arrested us,” Goemon added.

“And gave your two partners medical assistance.”

Speaking of the devil Lupin was brought back to the now broadly grinning Inspector. The thief had his left hand bandaged but managed to give Jigen a smile.

“They are alive. Nothing serious but a few scratches and a pretty mean headache.”

Jigen relaxed and nodded as thanks before he remembered something.

“Did you call the police?!”

“He called me himself. Saying you were deep in trouble. Giving me the name of your old friend over there.”

Jigen didn’t want to see the man that needed 4 police officers to hold him down. At least the undead lackeys which he had hypnotized and set under a heavy drug influence, were out cold and unmoving again.

Zenigata kneeled down to get on eye level with Jigen, only to whisper into his ear.

“He won’t reach prison alive.” With that the Inspector got up and went away.

  The cell wasn’t half bad. Big enough for two inmates even if every one of them was imprisoned on their own. At least he could see in the cell opposite of him in which his s/o laid, still sleeping a lot.

The doctor had said they were okay besides a mild concussion. Lupin had told him so, too. But he didn’t dare to hope until he saw his s/o moving on the simple bed.

“Hey,” he called out softly.

“Hey,” they murmured back, the voice thick with sleep.

“I’m sorry,” he told them.

“Nah. I’m sorry,” they replied.

“What for?” It wasn’t the fault of his s/o for being targeted or caught.

“I forgot to buy your cigarettes.”

He blinked before it hit him.

“Do you remember why you are here?” A faint hope was growing inside his head.

“Because Lupin did something stupid and we got caught?”

Jigen laughed. He couldn’t believe it. All the torture and the things that had happened, had been forgotten by his s/o? Of course, the doctor had said something about having a slight amnesia of the things happened shortly before the concussion would be natural. But this? This was pure gold.

He would take care of the fact that his s/o would never remember this gruesome incident.

“If you’re enjoying your stay, I can leave you behind,” the guard in front of his cell said.

A bit surprised by this comment, Jigen’s eyes trailed down the guard’s arm only to see a thickly bandaged hand.

“Lupin.”

“You owe me a finger, my friend. But first let me get you out of here.”

With a click the lock opened, while Goemon made short work of the prison door of Jigen’s s/o.

“As thanks, let me invite you. I know a good diner not far from here. It serves sausages in all varieties,” Jigen shot back with a forced smile.

“Shut up.”

With a confused look, his s/o hugged Jigen and smiled at him, happy when the gunman returned the hug carefully and kissed them on their forehead.

“Let’s leave this city behind us as far as possible.”

[splendidlyimperfect]

When a magical mishap transforms Natsu, Sting and Rogue, Gray finds himself responsible for a horde of dragons.

Chapters (1/?): 1 Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Rogue Cheney/Natsu Dragneel/Sting Eucliffe/Gray Fullbuster, Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Natsu Dragneel/Sting Eucliffe, Rogue Cheney/Natsu Dragneel, Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe, Rogue Cheney/Gray Fullbuster, Sting Eucliffe/Gray Fullbuster, Laxus Dreyar/Freed Justine, Levy McGarden/Gajeel Redfox Characters: Natsu Dragneel, Gray Fullbuster, Sting Eucliffe, Rogue Cheney, Freed Justine, Laxus Dreyar, Gajeel Redfox, Levy McGarden, Lucy Heartfilia, Erza Scarlet, Makarov Dreyar, Porlyusica (Fairy Tail) Additional Tags: Canon Universe, Fairy Tail Dragon Slayers, Magical Accidents, Spells & Enchantments, Transformation, Dragons, Fluff and Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, kind of, baby dragons are basically kittens, I make the rules here, Fluff and Humor, Cute, like super fucking cute, it's just dumb and fluffy okay, Tumblr: FTLGBTales

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It had started, like most accidents, with Natsu being an idiot.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” he’d asked, grinning at Gray and bouncing on the balls of his feet. They were standing out in a field near Gray’s house, down by the river, far enough away from the town that nobody would get hurt too badly even if it all went wrong.

Which it probably would.

“You could explode,” Gray suggested, crossing his arms over his chest and staring Natsu down. “Or implode.” Freed, who was standing nearby and studying a magic scroll intently, snorted.

“We’re not going to implode,” Natsu grumbled, looking to Sting and Rogue for support. Rogue just rolled his eyes, but Sting grinned at Natsu from his spot where he was reading over Freed’s shoulder.

Gray sighed. Part of him wanted to call this off. A mysterious scroll from a curio shoppe owner who’d been paying them for their latest quest wasn’t exactly something that screamed ‘safe.’ But the look of childish excitement on Natsu’s face was enough to hold him back from saying anything. For now. Gray also trusted Freed, who had gone over the spell several times and hadn’t found anything that was likely to go totally awry.

“Not seriously, anyway,” Freed had said. “At worst they’d probably just end up with sharper teeth. Or tails, maybe.”

The idea of Natsu bouncing around the apartment with a tail was already giving Gray a headache.

“C’mon, Snowflake,” Natsu teased, bumping Gray’s shoulder with his. “You’re just jealous that you don’t get dragon powers.”

“You already have dragon powers,” Gray insisted, ignoring the jab. He refused to admit that the spell did sound intriguing – some sort of dragon magic amplifier that might help the Slayers unlock a new well of power.

“We could try it on you,” Natsu said, expression turning thoughtful. “I mean, you are a Slayer. Not a Dragon Slayer, but sti—”

“No way,” Gray said, shaking his head. “I can kick your ass without sharp teeth or a tail.”

Continue reading on AO3

Natsu snorted, bumping Gray again, who pushed him away and turned to Rogue. “I still can’t believe you’re going along with this.”  

Rogue shrugged. “You try to say no to that,” he said, pointing at Sting, who was grinning and poking at the scroll. Gray nodded; Rogue had a point. Sting’s enthusiasm was equal to – if not more – contagious than Natsu’s.

“All right,” Freed said, running his finger down the scroll one more time and looking up at Natsu. “It seems straightforward enough. But I accept no responsibility if this goes wrong. Or if Erza decides to get angry about it later.”

Gray saw a flicker of hesitation cross Natsu’s face, but it was gone almost before it appeared. The grin resurfaced and Natsu raised his eyebrows at Sting and Rogue. “You guys ready to be dragons?”

“You’re not going to be dragons,” Gray insisted, but nobody was listening, so he sighed and stepped back behind Freed.

“All right,” Freed said, scrawling a few runes in the air as he walked in a circle around the three Dragon Slayers. “Don’t step out of this protection circle until I’m done the spell.” He gave Natsu a stern look, and Natsu pouted. Before Natsu could argue, Freed stepped back and started reading from the scroll.

As soon as Freed started speaking, a bright, electric energy began to crackle around Natsu, Sting and Gray. The grass around them whipped back and forth in a wind that seemed contained to the protection circle, and all three of them scrunched their noses up at the same time, as if they had smelled something unpleasant.

The sparks of light grew larger and jumped between the Dragon Slayers as Freed kept reading. Eventually the grass began to tear out of the ground, ripping up clumps of dirt to swirl around and fill the circle and obscuring the three of them in a cloud of black and white.

A roaring sound began to build in the field and Gray winced, covering his ears as pressure began to build around him. It rose quickly, culminating in a sound like a thunderclap, and then the windstorm disappeared.

Natsu, Sting and Rogue were gone.

A flash of panic filled Gray’s chest and he quickly looked around the field and then back to the containment circle. When the runes disappeared, movement caught Gray’s eye and he frowned.

It took him several seconds to realize what he was looking at, and he immediately burst out laughing.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, stepping forward and crouching down. “I am never going to let any of you live this down.”

Three baby dragons sat in the center of the circle, all looking mildly dazed. The red one was obviously Natsu – he looked a bit like a tiny version of Igneel, but rounder and more wide-eyed. Sting, who was much fluffier than Gray would have expected a dragon to be, lay on his back, tiny feet kicked up in the air, staring up at the sky in bewilderment. Rogue had already managed to get his bearings and was sitting on his haunches, head cocked to the side as he stared at Gray with bright red eyes.

“Rogue?” Gray asked, reaching out tentatively to the tiny dragon. He was barely bigger than Gray’s hand, which he sniffed at uncertainly. His tail flicked back and forth a few times and then he headbutted Gray’s fingers, apparently satisfied with his inspection.

“Holy shit, you’re adorable,” Gray murmured as Rogue stood up on his hind legs and put both front paws on Gray’s hand. He rubbed his face against Gray’s thumb, then climbed up into the palm of Gray’s hand and sat there, staring at him curiously.

“Well, that’s… unexpected,” Freed said, crouching down next to Gray. Sting, who had finally rolled over, shook his head and let out a tiny sneeze. The force of it knocked him backward again, which caught Natsu’s attention, and Natsu immediately pounced on him, pinning him to the ground. Sting growled at him, nipping at Natsu’s neck before kicking him with his hind feet and rolling over until he was on top.

“Of course they’re already fighting,” Gray said, rolling his eyes as he brought Rogue closer to his chest. Rogue took the opportunity to quickly clamber up Gray’s arm and sit onto his shoulder instead, wobbling uncertainly before digging tiny claws into the fabric of Gray’s shirt. Gray winced at the sharp pinpricks of pain, but Rogue settled and rubbed his head against Gray’s cheek.

“Knock it off, you two,” Gray said to Natsu and Sting as he petted the top of Rogue’s head with one finger. He reached out and grabbed Sting by the scruff of the neck, lifting him up to eye level and giving him a reprimanding look. Sting’s hind legs curled up to his stomach and he made an indignant squeaking noise. “Yes, you,” Gray said, laughing.

Freed reached out for Natsu, who scrambled to his feet and immediately nipped at Freed’s fingers. Before Gray could chastise him, Freed scooped up Natsu and put a finger under his chin so he couldn’t bite.

“They don’t seem to be able to understand us,” he said, studying Natsu curiously. Natsu growled at him and Freed laughed. “I guess you got your wish,” he said to Natsu. “You’re definitely a dragon.”  

Gray pushed himself to his feet, tucking Sting into the crook of his arm and scratching the top of his head to appease the mildly irritated sounds he was making. Sting immediately relaxed and the squeaks turned to a quiet, near-purring noise.

“They’re tiny,” Gray commented as Rogue shifted on his shoulder and nuzzled his cheek. “Are baby dragons really this small?”

“I’m not sure,” Freed said, keeping a firm finger under Natsu’s chin as he accepted Gray’s hand to help him stand. “We don’t really know anything about dragons – I don’t think anyone alive has ever seen a young one.” Natsu swiped a paw out at Sting as soon as he got close. Gray flicked him on the nose and frowned at him.

“Stop that,” he said as Sting growled at Natsu, then cuddled closer to Gray’s chest. “You’re a pain in the ass no matter how big you are.” Natsu rubbed a paw over his nose and managed to look indignant. “Oh, don’t give me that look,” Gray said. Then he looked up at Freed.

“So… how long do you think it’ll last?” It suddenly struck Gray that the transformation might be permanent, and immediately the panic was back. Freed shook his head, pulling the scroll out of his jacket pocket and unfurling it with one hand. Natsu looked at it curiously, trying to bat it with his paw. Freed nudged him away, then looked down at his jacket.

“Here,” he said, tucking Natsu into the chest pocket. Natsu’s eyes widened and he scrambled for purchase, eventually ending up with both paws over the edge of the pocket and his head resting between them. The tip of his tail poked out as well, flicking back and forth as he snuffled uncertainly.

Gray felt a pang of affection rise in his chest, and he reached out carefully to Natsu. Natsu looked at him warily but didn’t bite, instead sniffing his finger as Rogue had and eventually bumping it with his head.

Sting squirmed in Gray’s arm, whining and rubbing his head against Gray’s chest. Gray looked down at him and chuckled. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?” he asked, but when he tried to take his hand away from Natsu to pet Sting instead, Natsu growled and latched onto his finger with both paws.

“Dragons are very possessive,” Freed commented, still scanning the spell. “They might not understand what we’re saying, but they know that you’re important to them.”

Gray’s cheeks flushed with heat and he looked down at his feet. The four of them had only been dating for a few weeks – it had been a bit of an accident, really. They’d been sent together on a quest to the mountains that had ended up being a trap for Gray’s Devil Slayer magic, and when the fighting was said and done, they had all realized that the bond they’d formed was stronger than just guild mates, or even friends. It was something more – more intense, more fulfilling, more loving.

Nobody knew yet, though.

Nobody except Freed, apparently.

“Oh,” Gray said, and Freed glanced up at him, eyebrows raised.

“Laxus told me,” Freed said after a moment. “Something about scents.”

Gray groaned, glaring down at Natsu. “You’re all ridiculous,” he muttered. “Smelling people is creepy.” Natsu sniffed at his hand again and he rolled his eyes while Freed hummed in agreement.

“It takes getting used to,” Freed said, rolling the spell back up and tucking it into his coat. He and Laxus had been together for several years now, but they were both private about their relationship. “The possessiveness can get irritating, although being human probably makes it easier to curb that instinct. These three… well, right now instinct is all they have.”

Natsu nuzzled at Gray’s thumb and wriggled in Freed’s pocket, eventually pushing himself far enough out that he could scramble into Gray’s palm. Then he took Rogue’s cue and made his way up to Gray’s other shoulder, making a happy chittering sound as he nipped Gray’s ear.

“That hurts, you little bastard,” Gray grumbled, swatting at Natsu half-heartedly. He looked back at Freed. “Seriously, how long is this going to last?”

Freed shrugged. “It’s not permanent,” he reassured Gray, “but I have no idea how long the effects will take to wear off. I can do some research back at the Guild, but for now…” Gray could tell he was trying to hide a smile. “For now, you’re stuck with them.”

[master-sass-blast]

The Literal Crack Fic

Whoooo boy, this one’s a doozy.

Summary: You wind up overdosing after falling into a vat of cocaine and inadvertently inhaling too much of it.

The fic makes more sense than the summary, I promise.

Rating: M for accidental drug usage, seizures, drug-induced psychosis and hallucinations, drug overdose, drug withdrawal, cocaine, and hospitalization.

Like I said, this one’s a doozy.

Massive thank you to @leo-writer for proofing this fic for me and making sure my tired brain Englished properly! <3

Taglist: @chromecutie, @marvel-is-perfection, @super-darkcloudstudent, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @starman-thorsus-canos-jock

Also, to anyone who is struggling with drug addiction, who knows someone struggling with drug addiction, or has struggled with drug addiction: you are a beautiful human battling a dangerous and difficult beast. Your beauty and value are not and will never be diminished by the beast or the fight, I promise. <3

I thought it best to find a few resources to help those struggling with drug addiction. Obviously, I’m one person, so I can possibly cover every country. If someone knows the hotline for their country --or thinks of one I didn’t mention for a country I have listed--please include it in a reblog or a comment!

US:

-https://www.samhsa.gov/find-help/national-helpline

-http://drughelpline.org/cocaine-hotline/

UK:

-https://www.nhs.uk/live-well/healthy-body/cocaine-get-help/

Australia:

-https://au.reachout.com/articles/cocaine

-https://adf.org.au/help-support/

You watch, satisfied, as your fiancé hauls off a group of mutant drug runners towards the X-Jet.

Charles had gotten the call a couple weeks ago; a team of mutants was using their abilities to run drugs through New York, and had gotten too dangerous for the regular authorities to handle. The X-Men had been asked to take in the mutants, and Charles had handed off the task of tracking the group’s hideout down to Nate and Wade.

Earlier today, the two had called the other members of the X-Force with the news that they’d found the drug runners. Within fifteen minutes, the X-Jet had been in the air and on its way towards upstate New York.

And, well, everything had gone pretty smoothly from there.

Wade groans as he stretches. “Fuck, I should’ve stretched my hammies more. I’m gonna be sore for like… another two minutes.”

“You’ll forget how you hurt yourself before the two minutes are up,” Ellie snarks.

“Yes, but until they are, I’m gonna be in agony!” Wade gripes. “Dammit! Why do my hamstrings hurt so bad?”

“Ellie, why don’t you and Yukio go help out Piotr,” you say, nodding at the jet. “Wade, Nate, Neena, and I will try to track down the runners’ stash so we can hand it off to the proper authorities.”

“Minus a serious chunk!” Wade adds as he starts skipping towards the warehouse the runners had been holed up in. “Because daddy needs a restock!”

“Absolutely not,” you fire back as you trail after him.

“Since when did you start sounding like Colossus?”

“Since we can’t afford to look like we’re skimming drugs, dorkus. What were they running?”

“Cocaine,” Nathan answers as he stops Wade from fiddling with various lab equipment on set of tables stationed on the far wall of the warehouse. “Decent grade stuff, and a lot of it from the looks of our recon.”

“I’m guessing there isn’t going to be a big sign with flashing neon lights that says ‘we hid our drugs here?’” you quip as you scan the warehouse for any clues about the drug stash’s whereabouts.

Nathan smirks. “Probably not, no.”

“We’ll find it,” Neena says confidently as she pulls out her phone and taps at the screen. “I’m feeling… two minutes and fifty seconds.”

“Still lazy writing,” Wade says as he turns a Bunsen burner on and off until Nate slaps his hand away.

You chuckle, then start walking the perimeter of the warehouse. The flooring’s wooden and somewhat rotted, so you have to watch your step in a couple places.

“Look, I’m not saying I’m an expert!” Wade protests mid-argument with Nate. “I’m just saying I’ve hidden cocaine before, and we should absolutely be looking for a hollowed-out statue of Betty Boop firing a machine gun into Stalin!”

“You’re the only person on the face of the earth who even has that statue.”

“Not true! The artist on Etsy made three.”

You snort and continue walking the perimeter, scanning the floor for any sign of where the drugs might be hidden –hello.

In the far-right corner of the warehouse is an area where a square has been cut through the floor.

You pry it up and peer down in the cavity beneath it –and, sure enough, there’s several slabs of cocaine at the bottom.

You pop up just as Neena’s phone timer goes off. “Over here!”

Neena cheers. “How about that!”

You jump up and down as you cheer with her—

Then shriek as you land on the hidey-hole panel and plummet through the floor.

You land on the slabs of cocaine –which, admittedly, aren’t too shabby for breaking a fall—and send up a veritable mushroom cloud of the drug into the warehouse. You cough, wheeze, and sneeze as you try to fan the coke away from your face.

And then, from the floor above you, comes the most horrified, blood-curdling shriek you’ve heard in your life. There’s a rush of footsteps on the floor, then Wade practically dives in with you because he can’t stop in time. He manages to catch himself on the lip of the floor, repositions himself so he’s laying down on his stomach, partially hanging over the ledge, then hauls you out by your collar, all while screaming “Get out of there! Get out of there! Get out of there!”

You hack and swipe at your face as you plop onto the floor of the warehouse. “Oh, fuck. That’s worse than the time I dropped that ten-pound bag of powdered sugar.”

Wade seems to be too busy having a nervous breakdown to notice your quip, though. “Oh, fuck! Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god! Fucking monkeys on a stick! Oh, sweet balls have mercy, no!”

“Relax,” you say as you stand and brush yourself off. “I didn’t hit my head; I’m fine.”

“I will not fucking relax!” Wade snaps at you. “I think I fucking shit my pants when you fell down in there, so no! No relaxing! No relaxes ever again! This is the worst possible situation to have ever happened in the history of the universe, including the invention of polyester boxers! Holy shit, Colossus is gonna kill us! He’s gonna kill me!”

“Wade, take a breath,” Neena interjects firmly. “Colossus isn’t going to kill anyone. It was an accident. You didn’t even do anything.”

“He most certainly will if his precious fiancée dies, which is exactly what’s gonna happen to her!”

“Wade, calm down,” Nathan says. “Y/N’s not going to die.”

“Yes, she is, you fucking imbecile!” Wade snarls –and his tone, combined with the fact he’s snapping at Nathan, really settles that he’s being completely serious. “She’s on antidepressants! You can’t mix those with cocaine! Even I don’t mix those with cocaine! Fuck, we need to get her to a hospital. We needed to get her to a hospital five minutes ago! Fuck, why are we still standing here?”

“You’ve been monologuing,” Neena offers.

“Dammit! Not the time! Bad me!” He slaps himself. “Ow!”

“I can just fly myself there,” you say, voice thready with anxiety because you’re starting to get the picture of just how fucked you might be.

“No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.” Wade clasps your shoulders in a way that would’ve been gentle if he hadn’t been death-gripping them due to being so worked up. “No, nobody’s flying anywhere except in the jet. You need to keep your heart rate as slow as possible. Just stay calm. Everybody’s cool, everybody’s fine, this is totally chill, nobody’s shit their pants and nobody’s going to die, except for maybe you –fuck! Where is Piotr?”

“He’s handing off the criminals to the authorities,” Nate supplies, peering out the warehouse door. “They’ve got some kind of court case they need the guys for.”

“Dammit! This is no time for the boy scout act!”

“Come on.” Neena takes your arm and starts walking you towards the door. “We need to at least get her on the jet.”

 ***

 So, as it turns out, cocaine feels pretty fucking great.

You’re borderline vibrating when Piotr all but sprints onto the jet, followed closely by Wade. “Hi, babe!” you chirp, words coming out in rush. “How’re you? Are you good? I’m really good. I’m super buzzy. Are you super buzzy? Did you eat any bees?”

“How did this happen?” Piotr asks as he kneels in front of you, looking you over with a distraught expression.

“She fell through the floor, I swear to Cthulhu,” Wade says as he frantically strips you out of your jacket. “How’s she doing?”

“Temperature and heart rate are elevated, but other than that she’s been okay,” Neena says.

“We need to get her to a hospital,” Wade insists.

“Already called McCoy,” Nathan calls from the cockpit as he goes through the stages of lift off. “He called the hospital that works with the Institute; they’re already waiting for her.”

You press your sweaty forehead against Piotr’s shoulder, relishing in the cool temperature of his armor. “You feel good, baby. Just like your dick does when you fuck me.”

Piotr hugs you gently. “Just stay calm, dorogoy. Focus on breathing.”

“Oh, I can do that. I am so focused right now. I am the most focused I’ve ever been.”

“Very good. Try to stop talking and just focusing on breathing, pozhaluysta.”

“Okay, I’ll try not to talk, even though it’s really easy right now. It’s like I’ve got entire dictionaries in my head all at once, and they’re all pouring words into my brain, and I have to make sure I let the words out so my head doesn’t explode. Wait, am I still talking?”

“How much longer to hospital?” Piotr asks.

“Ten minutes,” Nathan replies from the cockpit.

Piotr shifts so he’s sitting in the seat and holding you in his lap. “Deep breaths, dorogaya moya. Focus on breathing.”

You’re too focused on tracing the ridges on his forearms with your fingers to really do that, but you are staying calm. Honestly, you feel really good. You’re alert, your brain feels like it’s going a billion miles an hour, and you feel really happy.

Granted, you could do without your chest feeling so tight, but you can’t have everything. You cough a little, then go back to tracing Piotr’s arm ridges with your fingers.

“Alright, Y/N.” Neena squats in front of you. “We have to do some tests to see where your cognitive function is at, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply, drawing out the ‘a,’ while you continue to trace Piotr’s arm ridges. Wait, didn’t I just do his wrist?

“Good. Can you tell me your name?”

You let out another burst of coughing before answer. “Y/N M/N L/N.”

“Okay. What’s today’s date?”

“Uh…” You cough again, harder this time, then rattle off the date.

“Good. Can you tell me your date of birth?”

“Uh… uh… oh, it’s—” Before you can answer, you start coughing again, hard and long enough to make you start wheezing.

“Are you okay?” Neena asks as you double over. “Do you need some oxygen?”

You start crying, out of breath and more than a little disoriented. “I can’t breathe. My chest’s too tight, I can’t breathe.”

“Let’s get you some oxygen,” Neena decides, walking away to get a tank and mask.

Piotr rubs your back and helps you stay steady as you keep wheezing. “Try to stay calm. I know you are scared, but we are almost to hospital. Everything will be better soon.”

You weep against his shoulder—

Then suck in a harsh breath when you see your mother standing across the plane’s interior, glaring at you.

“What is it?” Piotr asks when you scream. “Moya lyubov’, what’s wrong?”

“My mom!” you hack out between bouts of coughing and wheezing. “Get her away from me!”

“Myshka… your mother is not here.”

Neena curses up a blue streak as she sets an oxygen canister next to your fiancé. “Wade! Get in here! She’s hallucinating!”

There’s the sounds of general panic and chaos from the cockpit, then Wade bursts into the main area of the jet. “Fuck—”

Everything goes black after that.

 ***

 Beep… beep… beep…

You wish someone would turn your alarm clock off. It’s hard enough to sleep with something stuck to your face, but the continuous beeping in your ear makes it borderline impossible.

Beep… beep… beep…

Maybe it’s one of those alarms that keeps going until you solve some sort of puzzle or something. You tried installing one of those on your phone at one point, but Piotr had to keep solving them to turn the alarm off because you’d sleep through the damn thing anyway, which kind of defeated the purpose of getting a special alarm to begin with.

Beep… beep… beep…

No…

Beep… beep… beep…

No, wait…

Beep… beep… beep…

That’s a pulse monitor.

Aw, shit.

You open your eyes with a slight snort and peer up into blinding whiteness.

You’re in a hospital room. Fucking fantastic.

“Easy, easy,” someone says –it’s Piotr, you recognize his voice even if you can’t see him—while you shield your eyes against the lights. “Hold still. I will turn lights down.”

You relax as the lights dim down to a more respectable level, then start trying to look around for your boyfriend –except you can’t really move; every single movement –even down to the twitch of your fingers—feels like you’re swimming through molasses.

Then there’s the sensation of the bed dipping on your left side, and Piotr’s face appears in your field of vision.

He cups your face gently in his hands, rubbing your cheeks with the utmost delicacy. He’s smiling, but his baby blue eyes are watering with unshed tears. “Privet, myshka. How are you feeling?”

You try to reply, but you can feel the thing on your face somewhat impeding the movement of your face. You try to reach towards it to move it away, but you have all the limb coordination of a newborn giraffe at the moment.

“Careful, careful,” Piotr cautions, taking your hand in his. “Oxygen mask. You were having difficulty breathing.”

Well. That explains that.

“Where… am I?” you rasp as you try to get your bearings.

“Hospital,” Piotr says. “You… you had seizure from cocaine. They had to give you some drugs to calm you down.”

You frown as you try to piece together what he’s saying. “I… can’t remember…”

“It is okay. Doctors said that might happen. Speaking of which—” he picks up the little remote attached to your bed “—I need to call your nurse so she can check on you.”

***

 The full story is such: you inhaled enough cocaine to cause an overdose, and that combined with the interaction between the coke and your meds caused you to experience psychosis before you started seizing. You blacked out when the seizure started, then lost consciousness when you started convulsing. Fortunately, the convulsions only started when you were two minutes away from the hospital. The team there was able to treat you almost immediately –with bendodiazepines, which is a fun word to say—and put you in a room for observations once they were able to stop the effects of the seizure and the overdose.

You don’t remember anything that happened on the jet, and barely anything from the mission itself or the incident in the warehouse –which, all things considered, might be for the best. You’ve got enough traumatic memories to deal with as is.

All in all, you’re tired. Between the mission, the overdose, the seizure, and the drugs they gave you to calm your body down, you feel like you’ve been awake for a week straight. You manage to stay conscious while the nurse checks you over and ascertains your memory recall –average, considering what you went through—but once she leaves, you’re out like a light.

You wake up a couple other times –once to go to the bathroom, once because Piotr sneezes—but otherwise you remain konked out well into the evening, when you wake up to a quiet cacophony of voices in your room.

At first, you almost right it off as having some sort of strange dream or semi-conscious auditory hallucination –except you pick up on that the voices are speaking Russian, and hey!

You open your eyes, and sure enough the rest of the Rasputin family is in your room, greeting Piotr and speaking to him and hushed, worried Russian.

Illyana, unsurprisingly, notices you’re awake first. “Hey.

Piotr’s by your side in an instant, pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead. “Privet, sleepyhead. How are you?”

“Really hungry,” you say, which is punctuated by your stomach gurgling. “Can I eat something?”

He kisses your forehead again before standing. “I will go ask nurse.”

Alexandra takes his spot as he strides out of the room, clasping your hand in hers and rubbing gentle circles on the back of it. “How are you, malen'kaya ptitsa?”

“Drugged as fuck,” you answer with a tiny smile. “I can’t… can’t remember most of what happened.”

“That is what medvezhonok said. He sounded very panicked over the phone.”

“It was pretty bad, apparently,” you say.

Mikhail grunts in agreement. “Uppers and antidepressants do not mix.” He holds up his hands defensively when Alexandra and Nikolai pin him with sharp looks. “Not speaking from experience! Just saying.”

You chuckle tiredly, then refocus on Alexandra. “Why are you guys here? I thought you were in Russia.”

“We were,” Nikolai pipes up. “We get call, then we come.”

You frown as you try to do the math. “But… the flight…”

“We teleport in emergencies,” Alex says with a conspiratorial wink. “Medvezhonok needs us. As do you. We are here to help until you’re back on your feet.”

You smile at them, chest swelling with appreciation and love. “Thank you.”

Alex just shakes her head and pats your hand. “We are family. It’s what we do.”

***

 The doctor on rotation comes in while you’re eating dinner. He checks your chart, asks you and Piotr a few questions about your medical history, then delivers what just might be the worst news of your life.

“I’m going to be here for a week?”

Okay, maybe ‘worst news of your life’ is a touch dramatic, but still.

“It’s standard practice with seizure patients,” he explains. “We need to make sure you’re stable, especially since it’ll take time for the cocaine to leave your system and you’re on antidepressants. Speaking of which, how familiar are you with drug withdrawal?”

You frown. “I mean… I’ve had painkillers after surgeries before.”

He quirks his mouth to one side, then shakes his head. “Not quite what I mean. You might experienced some minor side effects with that, but cocaine withdrawal is an entirely different beast. Even with your advanced constitution, you’re going to be in a world of hurt for a while.”

“What are we looking at?” Piotr asks.

“Well, typically, cocaine crash happens within the first week after taking the dose. Users who crash often go through various psychological side effects –increased anxiety, irritability and depressive symptoms—along with physical ones –chills, impaired coordination, exhaustion, and so on. Weeks one through four usually constitute the withdrawal part of the process. Again, there’s more of the symptoms I just mentioned, but also an uptick in nightmares, muscle and nerve pain, and difficulty concentrating. She’s basically going to need intensive care from her support system during the withdrawal process; there’s a reason why most centers that help people get clean are live-in facilities.”

“But I’ve never even done anything recreational before,” you insist. “I barely even drink.”

“And that’s definitely in your favor. The fact that you don’t have any preexisting habits puts you ahead of the game. But drug withdrawals severely impact brain chemistry,” the doctor explains patiently. “You’re not going to be yourself or think like you usually do. Your brain will be going through a depletion of endorphins, especially dopamine, and it’s going to drive you to possibly do some incredibly risky things to get more.”

“How do we keep her safe?” Piotr asks, expression concerned.

“Close supervision, for one. Making sure she’s comfortable, that she has the assistance she needs, and that she’s not isolated are going to be key. Keeping her closely in touch with her therapist or someone who specializes with helping addicts with be important, too.”

“But I’m not an addict,” you argue.

“You’re not, but specialists have more experience addressing the problems you’ll be facing. The goal is to help you as effectively as possible. Also, make a point to limit any other substances she could have access to –alcohol, prescription drugs, even over the counter stuff. People who do cocaine often try to get another hit by switching over to a different drug, and we don’t want to risk further complications. Do you live with her?”

Piotr nods.

“Good. You need to be in control of her medication until she’s completely recovered. I know it sounds ridiculous,” he adds when you make a noise of protest, “but this is a deathly serious situation. The odds of you overdosing via trying to get another high are exponentially higher right now. This is about keeping you safe.”

“But I don’t need to get another high!” you insist. “I’m fine!”

The doctor sighs and braces his forearms against his knees. “You inhaled a lot of cocaine when you fell into that vat. Between that and the benzodiazepines we gave you to stop the overdose seizure, you’re still high right now. You aren’t feeling any withdrawal symptoms because your body still has a lot of drugs in its system. Believe me, when they do hit, you will feel them and want to do anything to make them stop.” He favors you with a sympathetic smile. “This isn’t about you being a bad person, or an addict, or anything like that. The situation was an accident, and your intentions are good, but cocaine is a serious drug. All of this is for your safety, I promise you.”

You sigh –and reach for Piotr’s hand because all of this is more than a little terrifying—and nod. “Okay. What happens when I go back home?”

“I’ve instructed Dr. McCoy to keep you in observation for another three days, just to make sure your antidepressants are still interacting properly with your system. If all of that goes well, you’ll be free to resume normal life –under supervision, of course.”

You do your best not to pout. It’s for my own safety. “How long do I have to be supervised for?”

“Cocaine stays in the system for a long time. While withdrawal symptoms usually stop around the fourth week, the elimination stage –which is where the drug starts fully leaving your system and the risk of relapsing gets progressively smaller—can take up to five weeks on its own. Given that you have a slight healing factor and that you don’t have any other substance abuse problems, I would wager you might shave a week off of that cumulative total, but not much more than that.”

You grimace. “Ten weeks? I have to be supervised for ten weeks?”

“The supervision can be less restrictive as you progress through the weeks of the elimination phase, but yes, essentially. I’d advise setting rewards and goals for yourself at each milestone to help things progress better. The hospital staff will be providing you with some information about drug withdrawal and treatment before you leave; it should have suggestions for some good milestones to implement.”

You sigh, then look over at Piotr. “Here’s hoping you don’t get sick of me in that time.”

He smiles fondly at you and kisses your cheek. “Never.”

 ***

 Withdrawal hits like a bitch.

You’re cold. Downright freezing. No matter how many blankets you shiver under, you can’t get warm.

The monitor you’re hooked up to, however, says that your temperature is staying at a healthy level, the lying little bitch.

“I swear to Danny Devito that thing is mocking me,” you grumble as you eye the readout of the traitorous device. “There’s no way my temperature’s normal.”

“Give it time, myshka,” Piotr says as he loads up a spoon with more ‘berry blast’ yogurt; your coordination is still completely tanked, so he’s taken to feeding you for the time being like the absolute angel he is. “You will feel better eventually.”

You groan and grudgingly eat more yogurt. “I just want to feel better now.”

“I know, moya lyubov’. I know.”

***

 The anxiety is worse.

Even though you’re still on your anti-depressants –score one to the latent healing factor and overall hardiness mutation there, if you’d had to go off those too you might’ve lost your mind—the crash and slow withdrawals from the coke you’d accidentally taken is enough to put you on a knife blade’s edge. You feel like you’re continually one split second away from a panic attack, no matter how much deep breathing or meditating you do.

Fortunately for you, though, Piotr is a dedicated partner and fiancé who knows just about every trick in the books to help you relax. He has Ellie –who has her license now, which is kind of hard to believe, you swear she just turned sixteen yesterday—bring your favorite movies from the house and generally helps you stay distracted. When you do tip over into a panic attack, he’s right by your side and stays there until you ride it out.

You’re not sure where you’d be without him –here, and in life in general.

 ***

 The exhaustion, however, is what really kills it.

You can’t remember a time where you’ve ever been more tired. Missions, flying out to your uncles, your various escape attempts, flying to the X-Mansion for the first time, escaping kidnapping attempts, that one time you decided to stay awake for three days because Piotr was off on a mission and it sounded like fun and then he came back home to you being borderline delirious and attempting to cook Bagel Bites in the toaster (sorry, Piotr)…

It goes past being just “tired.” You’re exhausted all the way down to your bones, to the point where you can barely move or eat or do anything, and no amount of sleeping makes it better.

Worse still is that Piotr seems determined to keep you on a somewhat normal sleep cycle –which, okay, you need to be on one for the sake of your mental health, but you’re so damn tired that it almost seems pointless.

You sob when he rouses you from yet another nap. “Please,” you beg, “please, baby, I’m so tired, just let me sleep…”

Piotr wipes away your tears and kisses your forehead gently. “I know, moya lyubov’, but it is not good to sleep all day. Besides, it is time to eat.”

“I don’t want to,” you weep. “I just want to sleep, please just let me sleep!”

He hugs you gently, careful not to disrupt the hookup to the heart monitor, and presses his lips to the top of your head. “I know, but you need to take medication. Besides, I brought your favorite.”

You pry your eyes open, sniffling –and sure enough, he’s brought a food container from home stuffed with chocolate chip pancakes, bacon, the works. “Can I sleep after I eat?”

“After a bit. You should try to stay awake for little bit.”

You whimper and try to turn away from him. “No—”

“I know, I know.” He smooths your hair away from your face in a soothing fashion. “And I am so sorry, moya lyubov’, but you know it’s best for you.”

You sniff inelegantly, then turn back towards him and take the box. “Fine. But I’m not sharing my bacon.”

Piotr chuckles and kisses your temple. “Whatever helps you get through it, myshka.”

(You wind up sharing your bacon anyway.)

 ***

 Despite your misery, the week passes quickly enough –which probably has to do with your general disorientation regarding the passage of time, what with your exhaustion and all, which only adds to your suffering.

The Rasputin family takes various turns watching over you and keeping you company while Piotr gets sleep or attends to his duties as an X-Men and general overseeing adult at the Institute. Mikhail and Alexandra teach you the finer points of playing Poker without losing like a scrub, Nikolai tells various stories about growing up in Russia and his kids’ early lives, and Illyana pops in from time to time to just keep you company –more often than not, with Kitty in tow as well.

Ellie even drives Russell and Yukio over and figures out how to hookup her Wii to the TV in your room so the four of you can play. Your skills at Mario Kart are none too improved by your impaired coordination –but, considering you were pretty shit at it to begin with, not too much of your game play is changed overall.

Conspicuously absent, however, are Nate and Wade. You’ve gathered that Wade is still pretty freaked out by the whole thing and is generally avoiding Piotr and his family at all rational –and irrational, because Wade—costs, and that Nate is babysitting him to make sure he doesn’t go on a reign of panic-induced destruction, if the texts he sent to Piotr are to be believed.

Which, honestly, is probably the best thing for Nathan to be doing right now. Wade gets extremely unpredictable when he’s stressed out; having Nate around is basically the only way to ensure he doesn’t attempt to “liberate” the zoo again –or, worse, do something hurt himself.

Either way, after one week of observation, you’re discharged with a few hefty bills, a thick pamphlet of information about recovering from withdrawals and what to look out for, and strict instructions to take it easy and for other adults to keep a close eye on you.

And then you’re taken home and veritably shunted into another hospital bed for another three days of observation.

Honestly, fuck your life.

 ***

 Granted, things could be worse. You’re surrounded by your friends and family, you can afford the bills you’ve accrued from this whole shitshow, you’ve got medical staff used to dealing with the special conditions that come attached with your mutant status, and you don’t have a past addiction to deal with on top of all this.

And gratitude is good, as is perspective, but sometimes suffering is suffering –constantly making sure your attitude is justified is exhausting and nigh impossible.

Plus, you’ve hit a second wave of side effects: freakish nightmares and full body pain! Fantastic!

(To be read as: not fantastic.)

Piotr’s by your side when you wake up with a whimper. “What’s wrong, moya dusha?”

“Nightmare,” you groan, waving your hand dismissively. “Just… weird.” You blink a few times, then peer at him, confused. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“Not quite,” he says. “Mikhail will switch off with me soon.” He smoothes your hair back, then kisses your forehead. “How do you feel?”

“Like shit.” You wince, then try to reposition yourself as aches run through your body –not to any particular avail, since the pain seems to run straight through your bones and out the other side.

“Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere.”

He tsks quietly –a habit you’ve learned he picked up from Nikolai—and starts rubbing your hands and forearms.

And it does help you feel better, just a little.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble tiredly.

“For what? You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Just… you have to deal with all this. It’s so much. You don’t deserve that.”

“And you don’t deserve to be dealing with withdrawals or any of it. Besides—” he kisses the bridge of your nose “—we are going to be married soon. That means ‘for better or worse, in sickness and health.’”

“I’m pretty sure whoever created those vows didn’t have ‘accidentally falling into a giant vat of cocaine’ in mind when they wrote them,” you mutter.

Piotr snorts, quietly. “Perhaps not, but principle is same. Besides, I love you. This is no burden.”

“There is an objective level of burden here, Piotr. Even if you don’t mind it, you’re still dealing with a lot.”

Piotr goes quiet for a moment, then concedes with a nod and small smile. “Fair enough –but as you said, I do not mind. You are my fiancée and love of my life. I would sacrifice much more for you than what I have to do with this.”

You lean towards him –even though it sends stabs of pain all over your body, but you can’t be assed to care right now—and kiss his shoulder. “Well, here’s hoping you don’t have to.”

***

 Your uncle shows up on the second day of observation at the X-Mansion.

He practically tumbles into the room you’re staying in, hair wet and t-shirt somewhat askew, but otherwise in one piece. “What the fuck happened?”

You stare at him, agape. “What are you doing here? Why are you wet?”

“Alex called me. Said you were in the hospital. I flew out as soon as I finished my most recent mission,” he explains in a rush. “Showered first. I figured you guys would appreciate that.”

“Uh, yeah. Probably.” You frown when you notice him swaying a little on his feet. “When was the last time you slept? Or ate anything?”

“Oh, come on, I’m not that hopeless. It was…” His voice trails off as he starts ticking off numbers on his fingers, which stops shortly after as his face goes blank, which in turn is punctuated by a simultaneous yawn and shockingly loud gurgle from his stomach.

Piotr bites back a snort –Mikhail doesn’t bother—and stands. “I can—”

“Nyet, nyet,” Nikolai interjects as he stands. He says something else in Russian, nodding to you with a smile, kisses Alex on the forehead, then clasps your uncle’s shoulder as he walks out of the room.

“What’d he say?” you ask Piotr as he sits back down in the seat next to your bed.

“Just that I should stay with you.” He lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it.

“Right. Okay.” Your uncle plops haphazardly into a seat provided by Mikhail, scrubs his face with his hands, then gives you a slightly crazed look that you suspect is mostly fueled by exhaustion-induced delirium. “What happened?”

You look at Piotr, then shrug. “Uh… I accidentally fell into a vat of cocaine and overdosed.”

“…What?”

***

 Wade finally shows up three days after Dr. McCoy releases you into Piotr’s –along with his family’s and your uncle’s—care.

Which isn’t to say that he necessarily shows up of his own volition.

“Nate! Put me down you time traveling, infinity scarf wearing, fuck-boi haircut sporting bastard! I’m fucking serious! I’ll chop off my testicles and hide them under your pillow –again!”

“Like you said, wouldn’t be the first time!”

“Nathan Charles Elizabeth Craigory Sam-becca Summers, so fucking help me—”

You and Piotr watch –along with Mikhail, who’s basically on the floor in a fit of hysterical laughter at this point—as Nathan forcibly carries Wade into your room –and, in a moment of predictable and yet somehow unpredictable desperation, Wade tries to brace himself against the doorframe like a dog who doesn’t want to get into the bath and is doing everything they can to avoid getting wet.

“You fucking cheater!” Wade gasps when Nathan uses his telekinesis to force Wade’s arms and legs forward. “You can’t just do that!”

“Can and did, sweetheart.” Nathan grunts as he sets Wade on the floor, facing your bed –which is where you currently are, propped up on a bunch of pillows. “Time to face the music, darling.”

“Absolutely not. Ryan Reynolds couldn’t make me face my emotions, and neither can you.”

“Wade,” Piotr says softly. “Talk to us. What is wrong?”

Wade looks pointedly at the ceiling and groans. “Ugh, why does he have to be so gentle? So caring? He’s like if the Pillsbury Doughboy and modern therapy conventions had a lovechild.”

Mikhail blinks slowly as he tries to process the sentence. “Pills-berry… what?”

You just shake your head at him.

“Wade,” Piotr says, a little more serious this time. “Please. This is serious matter.”

Nathan takes Wade’s hand and squeezes it gently when the other man looks pointedly at the floor. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

“I fucked up,” Wade says after a moment. “It’s… it’s my fault.”

A mildly pained expression crosses Piotr’s face. “What did you break? Did –Wade, if you had another run in with soap dispensers—”

“No! Although, I do need to refill mine back at home; thanks for reminding me.”

“I refilled our soap dispenser yesterday. With actual soap,” Nathan retorts in the tone of someone who is deeply in love but also deeply annoyed. “And stick to the point, sweetheart.”

Wade fidgets for a moment, then looks to Nate for reassurance, then sighs when the gray-haired man nods. “What happened with Y/N. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have even had her in the warehouse. I know the ins and outs of coke, I know it’s dangerous to people who take antidepressants, I should’ve sent her out with you—”

“Wade,” Piotr says gently, cutting the scarred man off before he can dive too deeply into guilt. “What happened was an accident. I know that, Y/N knows that, we all know that. In fact, if you had not been there, she probably would have been in much worse danger. By all accounts, you helped save her life –so, thank you.”

Wade purses his lips, but manages a small nod before looking at you. “Can I talk to you for a minute? If you’re feeling up to it?”

You nod, then pat Piotr’s shoulder. “I’ll be alright.”

Piotr kisses your forehead, then stands and motions for Mikhail to follow him out –which the eldest Rasputin does without question or complaint.

Nate kisses Wade on the temple, then follows the two brothers into the hall.

You pat an open spot on the bed. “Come sit.”

Wade does, sighing heavily and curling forward so his forehead is resting against your shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” he breathes. “I never wanted anything like this to happen to you.”

“It’s okay,” you murmur, hugging him. “You took good care of me afterwards –and, like Piotr said, it’s not your fault.”

Wade laughs thinly. “Not gonna lie, I was pretty sure he was going to kill me when Nate dragged me over here.”

“Nathan would never let that happen,” you chuckle. “And Piotr wouldn’t do that, either. You drive him a little crazy, but he knows when you’ve instigated something and when you haven’t.”

“I’m always instigating something.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” Wade concedes with a sigh. He sits up and gives you a half-hearted smile. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you groan. “Withdrawals are a bitch. Cravings, too.”

“Yeah,” Wade says with a chuckle. “Those go away a lot faster when you have a healing factor.”

“Lucky you.” You latch onto his hand. “I didn’t think I’d even get cravings. I’ve never even done drugs before.”

Wade shrugs. “It’s not necessarily about coke; it’s about the dopamine and serotonin. It just becomes a coke thing because of how much gets unleashed on the brain when you take coke.”

“And here you say you aren’t smart,” you tease him.

“I snorted six kilos of cocaine in three minutes after ‘Nessa died,” Wade grumbles. “If that didn’t teach me anything about coke and the brain, nothing would.”

You grimace slightly. “That’s not healthy.”

“Yeah, well, Nathan made me get rid of my stash, so don’t worry. Can’t do anything anymore.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

“Says who?”

“Scientists and doctors everywhere. And also Nathan.”

Wade huffs, though there’s no real anger behind the noise. “Well, I know who I’m listening to.” He pauses, then smiles and checks you gently with his shoulder. “Love you, sis.”

You grin and check him back –well, as much as you can in your state. “Love you, too, bro.”

***

Here are the resources I used when writing this fic:

Cocaine:

-https://www.drugfreeworld.org/drugfacts/cocaine/effects-of-cocaine.html

-https://drugabuse.com/cocaine/effects-use/

-https://drug.addictionblog.org/how-long-does-cocaine-last/

-https://www.therecoveryvillage.com/cocaine-addiction/withdrawal-detox/#gref

-https://www.thefix.com/content/ask-expert-which-street-drugs-dont-mix-antidepressants

-https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/types-of-mental-health-problems/drugs-recreational-drugs-alcohol/recreational-drugs-medication/#.XTWlDOhKjIU

-https://www.therecoveryvillage.com/cocaine-addiction/cocaine-overdose/#gref

-https://www.mentalhelp.net/substance-abuse/cocaine/overdose/

-https://deserthopetreatment.com/drug-overdose/how-much-cocaine/

Drug-induced seizures:

-https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4767205/

Epilepsy (for general understanding on seizures):

-https://www.epilepsy.com/start-here/about-epilepsy-basics/what-happens-during-seizure

-http://wwwp.medtronic.com/Newsroom/LinkedItemDetails.do?itemId=1160041417054&itemType=fact_sheet&lang=en_IN

[just-o-blog1]

Come back.

Part 1.

Fuck, I'm horny. My pussy is drooling like you wouldn't believe, it needs to be fucked. I throw off my house coat spread my legs wide and squat as my fingers slip under my body and begin to beat up my clit. I’m flooding, my wet fingers slip inside twisting flicking back and forth pushing deep, no where near deep enough, fingers are no substitute for a good cock, cum you stupid cunt, cum. I watch as his car turns onto the track that leads to the main road only 50 meters away, leaving me half squatting in my driveway in the dark, completely naked, finger fucking my stupid wet cunt. I want him to stop, look back and see me masturbating like a desperate mad woman, get out of his car walk back and throw me on the ground and fuck me, again, and again, I don't care which hole he fucks me in I just want his cock inside me again, forcing me open fucking me, shooting his spunk deep inside, stop, come back fuck my stupid cunt. I’m going to cum, I know it will be nothing like the orgasm I need, nothing like the super strong life threatening orgasm his cock delivers every time,  my fingers push deep as I climax, I screw them back and forth shove them hard into my stupid cunt,  I groan and sway as it pulses and drools cum over my hand to drip onto the ground between my feet. Please stop, come back and fuck me. Just fifteen minutes ago he fucked me in the shower before leaving, I climaxed three or four times, or more, I lost count as his thick pounding cock shot its last load deep filling my pussy with his hot spunk. Then it was gone, pulled out, leaving my pussy drooling a mix of our combined cum onto the shower floor. I wanted him to stay, fuck me again, I even contemplated suggesting he have the honor of being the first lover to fuck me up the arse just so I could get him to stay a little longer. I listened as the sound of his car turned off my gravel driveway and onto the bitumen the sound fading as he drove away leaving me standing outside my house, naked, my fingers dripping cum onto the ground as I listened to the fading sound of his car leaving me desperate, for a fuck,  . He had knocked on my door two days ago, I invited him in for a coffee and we fucked non stop for two days, both of us, naked in bed, fucking like our lives depended on it. I lost count of how many orgasm I had after the first hour, fifty, sixty, I really didn't care, I knew the next one was only a minute or two away, he made sure I never had to wait long. No one, and I mean no one, had ever fucked me so well or for so long, he knew the right buttons to press he played my body like he could read my mind and knew exactly what I wanted and when. He let me play with his body his cock, his heavy balls, no lover had ever lay back and let me freely satisfy my penis envy like he did, I held it, felt it, sucked it, beat it, looked and explored every millimeter of it, every fold every curve of his big, surprisingly heavy cock, I climbed on top and watched as I lowered myself slowly onto it a number of times, watching how swollen head easily parted the lips of my pussy and move inside, we had it planted deep inside me for most of the weekend and still I couldn't seem to get enough of it. “Come back, come back and fuck me”, I pleaded into the darkness.

Part 2. 

The entire week dragged slowly by, second by second, every clock in the entire world I felt was deliberately conspiring against me, made worst by the fact I had no contact phone number for him. Several times during the week,  I seriously thought about just walking away from work, driving to his house and demanding sex. What prevented me was I had no idea of where he lived. Tick : tock, the clocks continued their slow count, paused, before advancing to the next. I was masturbating two hours every night, just to keep myself sane. The Monday after work my two girlfriends were waiting for me outside my shop as I locked up. “How did you go,”? Lucy the blonde, who had a boyfriend, asked. “Did you do it,”? Roseland, her long auburn hair flowed and curled effortlessly, followed before I had time to reply. “Did you do it,”? Lucy questioned, her eyes lighting up. “How many times, once, twice, are you going to have his babies,”? Roz, jumped in again with three more questions. “We managed 5 hours,”I began, as Roz, exclaimed, ”Five hours,”!  her eyes lighting up, ”That's 4 hours longer than all the sex I have ever had in my entire life”. Lucy said nothing but her smile showed she approved. “Well no, that was five hours Friday night.” I continued, “Eighteen or more hours Saturday, and I guess another eighteen hours on Sunday,” I informed them.   Both girls went silent for a moment while they processed the information. “You're a sex pig, Jan,” Roz,  replied counting aloud as she added, “That's, what 18 plus18 and five that's, over forty hours, and you're still walking,” Lucy's smile grew bigger, “Good work,” she said. “If you need a hand, call me,” Roz,  replied, “We can be a tag team, I'll be waiting outside your bedroom door, or I could join in with a threesome, he is coming back for seconds, or in this case sloppy fourths, isn't he,”? Roz,  asked. “I think so, I certainly hope so, we never actually got around to making definite plans, he did say he would be back this weekend, I certainly hope so, anyway it would be something like, thirty fifths, I lost count how many times after the first one hundred or so orgasm, it's no wonder I haven't stopped masturbating since the bastard left Sunday night”. “Oh, definitely a keeper then, so no chance of me taking him out for a test drive,”? Roz,  asked. “A keeper? Yes it's a possibility, anyway it was only our first weekend together, I'm still test driving,” I smiled. “After a three day and forty hour test drive, I think as a good, close, friend I should step in and help out with a  second opinion, or at least have a ride in the passenger seat” Roz,  smiled. “Thanks for the offer Roz,  I'll keep it in mind.” I smiled. “I think we should all head off and have a drink to celebrate,” Lucy suggested. “To a successful test drive, that is if Jan can ever manage to back it out of the garage,” Roz,  said. “I sort of like having it parked in the garage,” I joked. “After forty hours, I would have at least checked out the cornering and reverse parking,” Roz,  added. “I did offer, though his dipstick is a little on the large side,” I smiled.

Part 3.

After an agonizingly slow week, Friday finally arrived, I rushed home, made a casserole and put it on the stove on low heat. I still had no idea if he would even show up. I showered and threw on my house coat, nothing else, I knew when he arrived clothing would only be a hindrance. I made myself a drink and stood outside enjoying the warm air of an early summer evening  my hands trembling in anticipation while I watched the sun set while once again trying to guess the time he would arrive. I had no idea what he did for a living, no idea if he had a girlfriend, how long it would take him to get in his car, the only thing I did know was it would take him two hours to drive here. I watched as the sky and the few clouds that hung in it turned red as the sun touched the horizon, taking all the green color out of the leaves of the orange trees that surrounded the house, I became aware of the sound of tires slowly crunching up the drive way caught my attention, who could that be I wondered, not the girls, they had promised to stay away for the entire weekend and that was only after I promise I would give then a blow by blow description of all the things we had gotten up to while rolling around in bed. I caught a glimpse of a large blue something moving slowly past a gap in the trees, he had a blue car, no one else I knew owned one, surely, not, I thought, I wasn't really expecting him for another hour or two, a second glimpse confirmed it was him. A little confused at what to do caused a heat flush to race through my entire body, it was him, I had thought of nothing else all week, I had mapped out the entire weekend in detail in my head, now I discovered I hadn't given any thought on how or what I would be doing when he actually arrived, simply standing outside watching him get out of his car at the end of the driveway would look a little obvious, like I was an eager schoolgirl waiting to see him again, in reality I was, my excitement was already making itself known in my pussy and he was only halfway up the drive. The thought of standing in front of the house stark naked as he approached flashed through my mind, Hmm, maybe a little too eager I thought. His car approached the long bend in the driveway, he was only seconds away from coming into view, shit, I needed a plan, I turned and quickly stepped back into the house to watch unseen through the small kitchen window. His car came into view, stopped at the end of the driveway just where the orange trees had  extended over part of the road, any attempt to go further would only result in scratching his car. I tossed off my house coat, I would I thought greet him completely naked, demand rather than waste time talking he could take me to bed, we could talk and fuck at the same time, eventually. No he left me on Sunday night a total sexually frustrated bitch, naked and masturbating in the driveway he should be made to pay for that, well maybe later, I watched through the kitchen window as he got out of his car, opened the rear and reappeared carrying a large box, he then began walking casually toward the house. Shit, here he comes I thought, I closed the outside door, trying not to make it too obvious I was waiting for him. Shit, shit, shit I thought as I walked about the kitchen a little confused while keeping a check on his progress. I picked up my house coat and put it back on, I could hear his footsteps approaching, I picked up a spoon lifted the lid on the casserole and stirred it, almost dropping the spoon into the bubbling pot as he knocked on the door. The temperature in the kitchen seem to suddenly rise noticeably, “It's not locked, come in”, I said trying not to sound too excited. I kept my back to him as he entered, pretending to be involved in cooking dinner. “You're early, I didn't expect you for another hour,” I lied, finally turning to face him. Shit, I'm sunk I thought, the sight of him close up caused my brain to loose all logical thought, I was now feeling like I could only blabber scentless dribble, as I watched him put the box on the table, I peered inside, it was full of groceries, there was no way I could keep up this charade especially standing close to him, my hands gripped the house coat and pulled it over my head, “Dinner will be another two hours, we have a whole weeks worth of fucking to catch up on,” I said, thinking by offering him my naked body would be as good a start as any to the weekend. He said nothing, simply stood looking and smiling at me. “Dam you”, I thought, throwing my house coat on the floor, before I could stop myself I began, “Sunday night you left me standing outside, completely naked, masturbating like a mad woman while you drove off, you are a bastard do you know that? I wanted you to fuck me one last time before you left, I didn't care how you did it or if you did me on the gravel driveway, over the bonnet of the car or under an orange tree, I needed one more and all you did was kiss my tits and drove off, I was so sexually frustrated I don't suppose you saw me standing in the driveway masturbating like a mad woman as you drove away, then after you left I had to masturbate for another two hours before I could get to sleep, in fact I have been masturbating two or three hours every night this week just to keep myself sane”. “Sorry,” he said as he tossed off his tee shirt, unbuckled his belt and undid his jeans and slid both pants and jocks to the floor in one movement, his gorgeous manhood I couldn't help but notice was already well established as it sprang into view, he kicked off his shoes and bent down and stepped out of his clothing, then simply stood before me, completely unconcerned being seen both naked and fully erect. “Yes I saw you standing in your driveway naked and masturbating, I admit I was very tempted to comeback and fuck you right then and there, if I had I would have been unable to leave and would have stayed the entire week. I am glad to hear, like you, I spent most nights the last week masturbating and remembering, Several times during the week I was tempted to get in my car and drive back, it was the thought you may think I was immature or some sort of a sexual predictor, unable to control my urges that prevented me,” he said. I stood silently, listening and admiring the sight of his swollen cock, the very thing that had so easily disrupted what I thought was my orderly impenetrable female world, the very thing that now occupied almost every second of my thoughts, my desires, forcing me to spend hours masturbating every night in its honour. He moved closer, his hands took me by the arms and pulled me against his naked body and kissed me, a long gentle lovers kiss, my knees went weak, my pussy drooled, I threw both my arms around his neck for support, feeling the warmth of his manhood pressing between my legs, discovering just how wet I was, I no longer cared, our lips remained locked together as his large warm hands slid slowly, deliberately down my back and griped the soft cheeks of my arse, easily raising me off the floor, I held on to his neck as I wrapped my legs about his hips. “You, don't have any panties on,” he said, smiling, stating the obvious. I felt a little shocked by his comment, then grateful he had noticed, I returned his smile, then replied, “From what I can feel, neither do you, what are you going to do about it,”? Responding his hands raised me a little, I felt the tip of his swollen member beneath me seeking my entrance, I gave it a little help to find what it was looking for then felt his monster gain admission and slid slowly, oh so fucking slowly inside me. “This should do for starters,” he said after completely impaling me in his dick. His invading thickness taking my breath away for a moment, “Oh yeh,” I replied suddenly feeling pleased with myself. He deliberately took his time and kissed me once more, a long, passionate kiss, obviously remembering my mention of how much I enjoyed being fucked and kissed at the same time His hands moved under my knees for better support then turning he carried me, fully impaled on his hard cock, toward the bedroom. This was definitely much better than anything I had planned our first five minutes together.

[thecoquetteishcontessa-blog]

“One Pump Man” (A Super Sexy Crossover) (NSFW)

The following story was written for the last Content Warning: Erotic Fanfiction Death Match show (held by Mockingbird Media Entertainment) on July 7. The theme was “Superheroes and Supervillians”. Most of the internet wants to see these two insanely powerful heroes fight. Instead, I thought “what if they did...something else?” Enjoy!

It was an unusually warm and peaceful Saturday afternoon in City Z. Saitama, fully decked in canary yellow uniform and ivory cape, lazily strolled through the park. This was no ordinary dilly dally through the park, though. Saitama was scanning the area, from the playground to the water fountains, for the next twisted demigod-knows-what monster to terrorize his stomping grounds and promptly get pulverized by one of his absurdly powerful punches.

As much as his shining bald head was occupied with obligatory hero patrol duty, his heart was simply somewhere else.

The road to heroism was never an easy journey but his particular one had some unexpected downsides. Saitama was well aware of the omnipresent ennui that came with becoming practically the strongest man on the planet. Able to vanquish his foes with just a single punch, there was virtually no challenge or thrill in the fight to be found.

However, there were more…pressing problems of the intimate variety.

In the increasingly rare times in which he wasn’t training religiously, obsessively watching the news, saving half the planet from near devastation or just carrying out mundane daily tasks, he’d muster up the motivation to pleasure himself. Pleasure that would only last for a few fleeting moments. Sure, the orgasmic afterglow felt fantastic but it just wasn’t satisfying like it was before. No matter how many times he tried to slow down his stokes and switch up his techniques, it would only take a pump or two to send him reeling.

It drove him crazy in the not-so-carnal way.

Then there’s the even rarer instances in which a girl was involved. It didn’t matter how lengthy and steamy the foreplay was, how stunning she was, or even how much sexual skill she displayed, all it took was one deep thrust to bring her to quivering cosmic ecstasy. Providing he didn’t thrust hard enough to land her in the emergency room. (That happened once, but that’s another story.)

Bottom line, Saitama longed for the days when he could take his sweet, scintillating time when it came to fucking, be it was making love or just jerking himself off. Hell, he missed it dearly.

But there was just nobody to talk to about this sort of thing.

Sure, he could vent to Genos, his roommate and self appointed disciple, but for all of Genos’ incredibly impressive cybernetic enhancements, the young cyborg was severely lacking in genitals. There’s no way he could understand Saitama’s plight.

Suddenly Saitama’s thoughts were interrupted by a loud sharp ZOOM in the sky.

He looked up and spotted a royal blue blur speeding through the clouds faster than anything he had ever seen.

He scratched his head. Was it a bird? A plane?

Only one way to find out.

Saitama squatted in place and shot right up into the sky. Half a second later, Saitama discovered it was no bird or aircraft but a muscle bound man clad in blue spandex, a majestic crimson cape and an “S” emblazoned across his broad barrel of a chest.

Hm. Haven’t seen this guy at the Hero Association headquarters before. Maybe he just recently joined the ’S’ Class, Saitama pondered immediately before bumping into the flying “S” Man. The sudden impact sent the two men crashing onto a rocky mountainside. Only the snow provided some form of cushioning. Not that their incredible invincible bodies needed any in the first place.

“Hey man, are you alright?” asked Saitama, as he brushed the snow off his jumpsuit.

“Excuse me but who or what exactly are you?” the man replied defensively, his fist slowly balling up. His eyes were about to turn a fierce glowing red.

“I’m just a guy who’s a hero for fun. Sometimes profit,” Saitama stood steadfast in the snow.

The “S” Man was perplexed by the nonchalant expression on the eggheaded man’s face. But definitely not threatened as he relaxed his fist and closed his eyes.

“Very well then,” he sighed. “I’m Superman. You may look like an ordinary citizen but your powerful force indicates otherwise. It’s fascinating. Why don’t we take shelter inside that cave and we can talk some more,” he offered, motioning towards the cave burrowed into the side of the mountain.

“Okay,” Saitama calmly responded.

~ * ~ * ~

Hours had passed. The beautifully blended sunset had rendered the snow a serene mix of pink and lavender.

The two men had spent the time getting better acquainted with one another over a toasty crackling campfire; exchanging stories of different adventures and adversaries. Comfortable and unguarded, Saitama took a deep breath and looked into Superman’s steely blue eyes.

“Hey, um, can I ask you for some advice on something? It’s about…a different kind of technique,” Saitama’s cheeks turned a deep rosy shade of pink…and not from the cold.

“Of course, friend,” Superman replied, sliding closer towards Saitama. “Where do you feel your technique needs improvement?”

Saitama’s palms tensed on his knees, then released.

“Do you ever run into any problems in the bedroom? Like, in a sexual way? It’s…it’s been a problem of mine ever since I became a hero. I was just wondering if you had any methods or tips for someone like…well, me? Us?”

Superman paused for a moment, then turned to face Saitama.

“Well…I haven’t engaged in that sort of activity with too many humans…but I suspect you’re not quite the average human. I do have some moves to show you but you’re going to have to trust me on this one.”

Superman gently placed his hand on top of Saitama’s red gloved hand.

“Are you sure you want to proceed? Things will get…intense.”

Saitama nodded, determination ignited in his eyes.

“Okay.”

The flames flickered. The stars were coming out to play in the twinkling night sky. Whether it was the crisp chilled air or the nerves that were kicking in, both men shivered. Finally, Superman huddled in close and softly kissed Saitama.

“Mmmf!” Saitama moaned in surprise.

He’d never had another man’s lips pressed against his before but this was something different. Exciting even. Lord knows he was craving some excitement lately.

“W-was that alright for you?” asked Superman shyly.

Saitama immediately put his fears to rest with a deeper kiss. The deeper the kisses got, the more they wanted to experiment and explore each other.

As their hot wet tongues tangled together tantalizingly, Saitama ran his hands through Superman’s tousled black hair. Superman broke from the lip lock to slide his hands up Saitama’s back. He removed the bald man’s cape and tossed it to the side.

“Still want to proceed?” he huffed.

“Yes,” sighed Saitama.

Superman leaned in for another kiss, slowly sucking Saitama’s lower lip between his teeth. As Saitama groaned in delight, Superman slowly pulled the zipper down Saitama’s jumpsuit. He pulled down the top, revealing Saitama’s scrumptiously sculpted torso. Superman swirled his tongue around Saitama’s hardening nipples, feeling the goosebumps rise under his tastebuds. He continued to trace his tongue down Saitama’s silky torso, from his sleek pecs to each rock hard ab running down his stomach until he reached the harder bulge below the belt.

He yanked off the belt and tossed it off to the side. Saitama breathed hard and heavy, quivering in anticipation.

Superman reached for the raging erection inside Saitama’s pants and gripped it firmly in his hands. He gasped. Normally a grip like this would shatter someone’s skull but here Saitama was, still alive and reeling in ecstasy. A grin crept upon his square jaw.

He tugged Saitama’s smooth cock from his black briefs and began to pump slow, steady strokes.

Saitama gasped. He was amazed. Ecstatic. For the first time in ages, he didn’t ejaculate in an instant! It brought a genuine joyful smile to his face. The hardest he had smiled in ages.

“This is good for you, I see?” noted Superman.

“Yes! Yes!! Oh my god. You have no idea!” beamed Saitama, in between heavy fluttering breaths.

“Excellent…” Superman growled under his breath as sped his stokes up.

The sensation was unlike anything Saitama had experienced before. Sure, he and a few girls in the past had jerked him off before but this? Practically supernatural.

“You’re handling this unlike anyone I’d ever seen,” smiled Superman, impressed that this human being hadn’t exploded in his palms yet.

What he didn’t expect was for Saitama to pull him in and kiss his neck with such ferocity.

“Can’t be the only one having fun here,” Saitama murmured seductively as he ripped off the Man of Steel’s cape.

He stripped the spandex suit off of Superman, caressing and kissing every inch of his godly breathtaking physique.

Guy must do more than just 100 push ups, 100 sit ups, 100 squats and a 10k run everyday, Saitama thought as he licked the sweat rolling down Superman’s shredded stomach muscles.

Finally, he reached the pulsating pleasure python hiding in his red briefs. Saitama got down on his knees and pulled down the briefs, springing forth the thick throbbing cock into his face.

He licked the head like a melted ice cream cone before taking the lengthy lust rocket into his mouth. Superman’s howls and roars of randy rapture were music to Saitama’s ears as his tongue ran along the veins of the hot, salty rod inside his mouth. Curious to see what other sounds this man could make, Saitama’s hands reached towards Superman’s round tight ass. Squeezing a bun of steel with one hand, he slid his finger inside the hole hidden between his cheeks.

“AAAAAAHHHHH!!!” Superman yelped in surprise.

All of a sudden, the ground began to shake. Shockwaves from Superman’s aroused screams caused rubble to fall from the top of the cave and put out the fire. Of course, having dealt worse catastrophes, this didn’t even phase the two heroes.

“Didn’t like that?” Saitama apologized.

“Actually, I think you’re ready for the final test,” Superman declared with a mischievous glint in his eye.

With that, he immediately pinned Saitama down onto his crumpled cape on the ground with a mighty thud. Adrenaline rushed through their veins, hearts pounded and cocks swelled.

“Ready?” Superman purred into Saitama’s ear.

“Fuck yeah…more than anything,” Saitama whispered, low and guttural.

With his fist vigorously groping Saitama’s cock, Superman spat into his free hand.

“He we go…”

Superman let go of Saitama’s cock and spread his thick legs apart. He took his wet hand and placed his palm between Saitama’s cheeks. He trembled feeling Superman spread the saliva all over his completely exposed hole. The brand new sensations sent waves of pleasure throughout his body.

However, nothing could prepare him for what was about to happen next.

“If you thought sliding a finger inside me would bring me to my knees, you haven’t felt anything yet…” boomed Superman as he eased his boa cockstricter inside Saitama’s super sensitive hole.

Saitama shrieked, not out of pain but with excitement. Never had he felt so alive with every thrust Superman pounded into his ass. As the butt-fucking commenced, the earth began to shake. The cave crumbled all around them and snow started whirling around their glistening bodies like a cyclone. Thunder rumbled in the air. As if the experience couldn’t get heightened enough, Saitama reached down and put Superman’s masturbation techniques into practice.

Who knows if it was the brewing storm surrounding them, the speed and velocity of Saitama’s hand, their balls slapping together or Superman’s massive cock pumping in and out of his ass, Saitama just couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“Uhhhhh!! Ohwaaaaahhh!! Aaaaaahhh!!! AAAAAHHH!!! AAAAAAHHHH!!! AAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!” he wailed and writhed just before the final climax.

“I WANNA BE THE STRONGEST HEROOOOOO!!!!”

The cyclone parted. Lightning tore through the clouds. Avalanches hurtled down the mountainside. Creamy white cum shot straight from Saitama’s cock into the sky and exploded like a firecracker.

Saitama didn’t have too long to bask in the afterglow because at that moment, Superman reached his orgasmic peak. As Superman’s spasms caused more environmental aftershocks, gooey liquid love oozed from each of Saitama’s orifices.

Once he came down from that hedonistic high, Superman gently slid out of the hole and looked down at Saitama. Both of them panting, sweating, glowing and miraculously still alive.

They each sighed a breath of relief.

After a moment of blissful silence, Saitama slowly sat up.

“Well…that was definitely a memorable training session to say the least. By the way, what did you say your name was again?”

Superman rose and leaned in close to Saitama’s ear.

“Kal-El…”

The End