#those rays man mmm so slick

[castercassette]

Kit- KIT!

THAT'S MY BABY BOY OVER THERE!

@castercassette’ s boi 💖💖💖

[seulgiology]

that’s my type | jeon jungkook

pairings: fwb!jungkook x fwb!female oc

words: 3k

genre: SMUT with an “i love you” at the end , uwu

warnings: cursing, praise, dirty talk, thigh fucking, pet names, choking, a widdle exhibition, a lil pussy spank, ass slapping, piercings, tattoos (are those warnings?? idk), oc loves to mess with kookie lol save him

a/n: GIF IS NOT MINE! sad yer. admin 1 is sadly alive. HERE’S A REQUESTED JUNGKOOK SMUT, I TRIED MY BEST PLZ ACCEPT MY OFFERING TO YOU @itboykook . Also, i just randomly put two names together, so if by any chance that it relates to an actual idol IM SORRY. anygays, being a student is hard and online school is a lot :))), sorry for my inactivity.

disclaimer: This is a work of fiction from our imagination. It is not intended that the plot, theme, original characters, idols, etc. portray any real-life events/people. Plagiarism is NOT tolerated on this blog. If you believe we have copied an existing authors’ work, please message us privately. thank you and enjoy :)

--

Mid July - 12:03 p.m.

Jungkook fit right in with the rest of you, his quiet, odd, yet lovable personality was enticing and it didn’t fall short from the other 6 guys. 

He was the newest and the youngest out of your friend group, only a junior in college. His adorable teeth whenever he smiled that contrasted with his toned body was so attractive and he knew it too. He nearly rivaled Jimin when it came to visual duality.

You all were on one of the campus’ fields, enjoying a rare afternoon of no classes on your spread blanket. You and Hoseok were trying to play a makeshift game of basketball in the field with a random volley ball lying around and your jacket in a circle as the “hoop.” 

You were both dying of laughter from your failed attempts at playing defense and rolling in the grass like a couple of kids on a sugar rush.

Jungkook was next to Taehyung listening to brief him on everything about you, from your flat feet to your unconventional love for Tom Holland. He was sitting comfortably on the blanket, hands resting behind his back as he watched you and... What was his name? Hobi?  He’ll remember later. 

He couldn’t see you too clearly but he knew you were having fun after hearing your bubbly laughter from the distance. You didn’t seem to be coming over towards the others anytime soon so he thought he’d rest his head on Jimin’s plush lap and rest his eyes for a bit, letting the spring sun beat down on his face.

“Don’t you come over here with all that grass on you, Mae, you don’t know whose child was in there pissing.”

Jungkook’s eyes snapped open, and he hissed out at the suns rays blinding him. He lazily shifted towards the direction of the noise and heard Seokjin— Jin grumble to you two. 

You were in the middle of rubbing the loose grass off your jeans when you could feel someone’s stare on you.

Jungkook shamelessly drank in your figure, loving the way your ripped jeans hugged your thick thighs. He could only dream of burying his face in between them and leaving hickies. You were slightly bent over in front of him trying to wipe the dirt off of you, but he had a great view of your full and round ass trapped inside the denim.

Is this what it feels like to look at an angel? Jungkook didn't know what to believe anymore after being graced with your existence. Did he want to worship your body, make you laugh, hold your hand? Or something more? The blood rushed to his center the longer he kept his gaze on you and letting his thoughts take a sexual turn.

You didn’t catch him practically eye-fucking you, but when you looked up and around, you did see him blushing and hastily putting his bag on his lap.

He must be a shy guy. Yet his whole presence makes you want to shut up and be a good girl for him. He was only laying down with his arm propped up for support, and his short black hair was flowing in the wind, making him look goofy with such a concentrating look on his face.

He pretended to be searching in his bag for something as his heart raced when he saw your shadow coming towards him. He tasted the saliva pooling in his mouth at the sight of you towering over him, your nose and ear piercings glinting in the sunlight. 

“I’m Maerin, the only reasonable one here. You are?” You carefully reached your hand out for him to shake with a charming grin on your face, amazed that your friend group just continues to add more attractive men to your circle.

“Jungkook, the other reasonable one here.” You laughed at his statement and his adorable nose scrunched when he smiled with you. You took the vacant seat next to him, and his sight was glued to your physique on your descent, entranced by the minimalistic ink on your arm.

Could you get anymore perfect? Perfect face. Perfect ass. Perfect thighs. Perfect body. Perfect personality most likely. HIs mind raced with thoughts of only you as soon as he took your much smaller hand in his in a firm shake.

He was going to have you one way or another. And that’s a promise he kept. Sort of.

--

Early December - 11:46 a.m.

Those god-awful finals had just ended for you guys and it was time for winter break. It was decided that you all would put in money to go to a ski resort for the break, needing the stress reliever and rest.

And get rid of stress was exactly what you did.

“Fuck, you really don’t know what you do to me,” His hand tightened around your neck in the most pleasurable way, and you were hazy from the dream-like steam the shower was bringing.

He had you pinned against him, his arms held you tightly in place as he thrusted in between your thighs, only sliding his cock against your slick womanhood. You hated not being able to feel him inside you, but he was in heaven when he had you like this. 

Jungkook’s reasonably unreasonable obsession with your ass and thighs played a great part in your friends with benefit arrangement. 

“This is all mine, sweetness,” He grunted in your ear, and all you could do was gasp in response. His wet and wavy locks draped over your shoulder as he sped up his pace, leaving you devoid of any type of release as your thighs tightened around his cock sliding in between them. 

“Jungkook-” You whined to him, upset that he was using you to get himself off. He payed you no mind however, his thrusts speeding up as the unrhythmic slide of his cock in between your folds meant he was going to cum soon. 

"You wanna cum pretty girl? Wanna feel me stuff you so full you won’t remember anything but me?” He moaned in your ear at the thought, torturing himself as much as he was torturing you.

You let out a pathetic but audible yes that you knew had his dimple popping from the grin that adorned his face. You yelped when he manhandled you against the wall and pushed your back down so your ass was to his front. You turned around to see him desperately pumping himself in his hand and his lips slightly parted. The sight had your arousal trailing down your legs along with the water and you licked you lips at his hard cock in his hand.

He pumped his load on your cheeks that were spread for him and he watched it get rinsed away as quickly as it came with the water.

Your body was still on edge when you felt Jungkook rise you up and back hugged you so tenderly, you were ready to fall asleep in his arms at the safety they welcomed. He chuckled in your ear at your languid body and held you tighter. “If you fall asleep you won’t get your reward for being good for me,” his voice was so sweet and you. Why isn’t he your boyfriend again?

“Mmm, really?” You questioned him in a sultry tone, wanting to get him riled up again. You grinded your ass on his hardening manhood and you loved the way he grabbed a handful of it and rolled his hips on you.

“Jungkook, you in there?” You both froze in panic upon hearing Namjoon over the white noise. Jungkook’s finger tips stopped their descent down your stomach and lightly dug in. Shit, fuck, fuck fuck, shit- 

“Yea hyung, I’m in the shower, what’s up?” His voice was unusually shaky to the older man, but he brushed his overanalyzing to the side. “Have you seen Maerin? She said she was looking for you but she disappeared.”

Your heart pounded to the speed the water was hitting you. Namjoon wasn’t stupid, he’d probably figure you guys out, if he didnt already.

Jungkook frowned at you in confusion and you shrugged back at him, your face heating up at the excuse you told the others men to just come see your fuck buddy. 

“She told me to meet the rest of you in the lobby but I wanted to take a shower before leaving. Um... I think she went to get more food before they closed the breakfast buffet.” He lied smoothly, and you sighed in relief and let your grip on hi arm drop.

THUNK!

Namjoon jumped after hearing the load thump and an extremely familiar feminine squeak from the bathroom.

Wait.

Was that Maer—

“Sorry hyung, the soap fell on my foot when I tried reaching for it! I’ll be out soon, don’t wait for me.” He replied in a haste after turning the shower off and giving you a hard look. After hearing the room door close, your body chilled beyond return and your nipples hardened in anticipation.

“You think this is a game, huh?” He tilted your chin up with his cold finger tips and glared at your smirking face.

This was most definitely a game you wanted to play.

—

Late December - 1:30 p.m.

“Who brought the liquor, im trying to get wasted tonight.”

“Jimin, we’re watching Stranger Things.”

“Ok— so where’s the liquor...?”

You smile to yourself at hearing your friends’ conversation, they never fail to amuse you. You were in the kitchen, trying to get popcorn ready for all 8 of you to watch the supernatural show in Jungkook’s apartment.

You leaned on the counter in front of the microwave and listened to its humming as the bag of popcorn started to slowly inflate.

“The guys are here and you have your ass all out like this?” A silent groan left your lips and arousal pooled in between your legs when Jungkook grinded his hips into your ass and grabbed a handful of it.

Your friend group had no idea that you were fucking each other for about 2 months now. It felt wrong to be sexually attracted to each other, especially because you were friends. So you both didn’t want a bad reaction if you told the others.

“Jungkook, someone’s going to walk in—” But you ignored your own words and instead rubbed against him more. You were breathing softly but heavily when you let him cup your cunt through your leggings. He loved it when you wore leggings, it always left little to his imagination when he wanted to guffaw at your legs.

The microwave beeped loudly and it startled the young man behind you into jumping back in fright. Jungkook swallowed hard at hearing your snickering and in a haste, left the kitchen and into the noisy living room instead. He was hard under his sweats, and hated how uncomfortable he was because did it.

They were all seated and prepared to binge watch the latest season of the popular American show when you crept out with two large bowls of kettle corn popcorn.

After they graciously thanked you, you took the obvious seat next to Jungkook on the loveseat. The others expected this, they knew you two were closer than ever. He threw the fuzzy blanket over you both as you cuddled close to the arm chair and put your feet on the other side of his thighs.

Your knees were bent up because you couldn’t fully extend your legs, and it was the perfect position for him to touch you in. He turned to gaze at you under his dark and curly fringe and his earring dangle from the movement.

He discreetly leaned in and whispered, “I dare you to try something while they’re here. Watch what’s going to happen.” The eerie theme song of the show began and you knew for a fact you weren’t going to pay attention. 

You’ve seen the legendary show already. So instead you’d mess with the man directly in front of you.

So for eight long hours you you teased him under the blankets; Rubbing his length with your feet, edging him and never letting succumb to the unusual pleasure. It was exciting to see him sweat while all of your close friends were so close to you yet too engrossed in the T.V. set to notice.

Just as your group was piling out and saying their goodbyes, you suggested that you stay to help the maknae clean. it was late and everybody would be busy the next day but you. 

And Jungkook wasn’t going to let you go that easy.

--

9:54 p.m. [same night]

Your damp forehead was pressed into soft cushion and your hands clutching the closest pillow on the couch as you were hopelessly whimpering for more. 

Jungkook wasted no time in having you ass up, head down with his wet tongue abusing your cunt and giving you a taste of your own medicine.

“You really must think this shit is funny, baby” He said, basking in the taste of your arousal. You whined when he lightly slapped your clit, your hips involuntarily pushing back for more and he arrogantly chuckled at your neediness.

“I asked you a question and I expect you to answer it.” His voice was gruff when his hard and angry cock slapped against your swollen lips, the slickness of it making it an obscene noise.

“Only if you fuck me first.” You breathlessly said to him and wiggled your ass to draw him in even more. His hooded eyes caught the sight and he moistened his thin lips, loving they way your bottom moved.

You both sighed in relief when he finally pushed in, the initial sting always catching you by surprise, no matter how many times he’s done it. 

“Shit, you always take me so well Mae,” He pumps faster, his hips snapping into yours and you cry out from the intensity of it. Your clit throbbed from your fingers circling around it, and your moans were purely sinful. Jungkook loved seeing you like this.

Back arched and your pussy clenching around his length. The way your ass bounced against his hips whenever he thrusted into you. Fuck. His hand came down hard on your already stinging before grabbing them and drilling into you impossibly quicker than before. 

“Please don’t stop!” You cried out, living for the way his dick filled you so fucking full until you you were seeing white. “Look at you pretty girl. You’re such a brat and all I do is fuck you and give you what you want.” He grunted in your ear and kissed right below it, hearing the dangling sounds of your own earrings.

“Ohhh, Jungkook I’m so close,” He huffed before carefully flipped you over and fucked you with vigor, your toes curling and an amazing sensation rushing through you. “Come on sweetness, you’re almost there.” He placed your legs over his shoulder and gripped your delicious thighs so tight, this wouldn’t be the first time you’d see hand prints there tomorrow.

His forehead was pressed against yours as he watched his dick push in and out of your sopping cunt, your cries egging him on to spill inside of you without hesitation.

The feeling in your lower stomach was becoming uncomfortably persistent and with one final rare moan of your name his hips stuttered sloppily and he filled you with his seed to the brim. Your body spasmed around him and your mantra of his name didn’t even let up after you came. 

When you finally came down from your high, your eyes cleared to see the sweaty boy slumped against you, body spent from putting his all into this session.

He peppered kisses along your collarbones and softly massaged your chest as your eyes closed from his blessed hands working on your soft tissue.

He peeked up at you through those unruly locks of his and that boyish charm never failed you whenever he literally did anything. Don’t even get you started on his boxing practices, whew-

“So round two?” He quirked a playful eyebrow at you as his fingers lightly danced over your torso. You giggled when he reached around your waist and applied pressure, the soft skin felt like silk to him. 

“What do you expect an answer?” You giggled up at him, stars in your eyes. You sneakily reached and tickled under his arms, and he let out the most adorable laugh your ears could ever hear. You shushed your laughs with unsuccessful kisses that were even more laughs because of your failed attempts of keeping a straight face.

When he pulled away, his doe-eyes were stuck on your gorgeous face. The way he was looking at you wasn’t unfamiliar, you we’re just too stupid to play it off as the “post-fuck love stare.” But here you were now. Laughing in between his strong arms and pecking each others lips. 

We’ve been friends fucking like this for months and I’m just realizing this now?

“What if I told you that I loved you? How’d you answer to that..?” He trailed off towards the end, his spontaneous confidence wearing off by the millisecond from his impulsive words. 

You could combust with the overwhelming feeling of happiness and your chest felt lighter even with his body of muscle on you. You smiled so wide up at him, you could barely see his own face morph into the dimpled look you’ve grown to love since you first met him. But you still wanted to mess with him for 10 more seconds.

“I would say I love you with all my heart...” 

You think his just dropped to his stomach with the way his face turned ghastly pale and his eyebrows raised in worry. He was not expecting that after your reaction to him confessing his feeling towards you. Was this a joke? But you were smiling... mayb-

“But my ass is bigger.” Your laugh was contagious and he couldn’t even be mad at you cause he couldn’t agree more.

[lotusss-flowerbomb]

My Hero

Clark Kent x reader

Warnings: Smut 

Disclaimer: There is unprotected sex in this story, so remember a condom a day keeps them babies away!

*divider by @writeyourmindaway​*

Word Count: 2,302

********

You were pushing your cart through the grocery store and scanning the many items you knew that you didn't need.

"This is why we never shop on an empty stomach," you said to yourself.

When you reached the end of the aisle your cart hit a man's legs.

"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention. Are you okay?"

"It's okay, I'm fine," a small laugh escaped his lips. "Y/N?"

You finally looked up at him, "Yes?"

"Wow, I thought that was your voice that I'd heard."

"My voice?" You asked, confused. 

Blue eyes, wide grin, deep dimple in his chin. 

"Clark?" Your eyes were wide with realization.

"It's me," he said.

"No way, look at you," you scanned him from head to toe. "You've come a long way from the scrawny kid who I used to walk home with from school."

You threw your arms around his neck for a hug and quickly pulled away. You would swear that you could feel every muscle in his rock hard body.

"So, uh, when did you get back in town?" He asked.

"Few days ago. My dad retired and moved to California. He's left getting rid of the house, to me of course."

"I'm surprised he left. He loved that house."

"Yeah, well, he says he needed a change since my mom passed away, but I think this Superman guy just freaks him out a little bit," you shrugged.

"Understandable," he replied.

"Well, um, how about you come over for dinner tonight, so we can really catch up?" You suggested.

"Oh, no, I couldn't impose."

"Why not? You got big plans for those TV dinners?"

He looked down at the four Hungry Man meals he was holding.

"That's what I thought. I'll see you at 8pm, Kent." You pushed your cart forward to the checkout line.

He watched as you walked away. Willing himself not to use his x-ray vision to look through your clothes.

Clark showered quickly when he got home. He looked through his closet and cursed himself. How many flannel shirts does one man need? He settled on a blue and gray shirt and pulled it on.

"Where are you going?" Martha questioned him.

"Uh, you'll never guess who I ran into today. You remember Y/N?" He asked his mother.

"Of course, I do. How could I ever forget the sweet girl who walked my baby home everyday to save him from bullies?" She patted his cheek and laughed.

"Funny," he mocked her. "She invited me over for dinner tonight, so I needed to change."

"Oh, well, that's good. You haven't been out since, um... ever."

"Ma, it's really just old friends catching up. It's not a date."

At least, that's what he'd said out loud, but his racing heart was telling a different story. Martha raised an eyebrow and turned to leave. She didn't need enhanced senses to know her son was telling a lie.

Clark thought back to the day the two of you had become friends. He was a grade ahead of you, so you never really spoke until...

You trailed behind the crowd a bit, as always, with your black Cane Corso, Tiny in tow. He was massive, so his name definitely didn't match, but when he was just a puppy, he was so tiny that you carried him zipped up in your hoodie wherever you went.

Every day, Tiny would come to the school and sit with the parents waiting to pick up their kids. Even though he was huge, he was a sweetie and everyone loved him, so no one ever complained about him running around alone.

When the group ahead of you reached the junkyard. You heard Jessie, the school bully, telling Clark to get out of the truck. Once you reached the yard, you saw Jessie throw Clark to the ground and raise his fist as if he was gonna hit him.

"Come on, fight back! Get up, Kent!" He yelled at him.

"Why don't you leave him alone, Jessie? He doesn't want to fight." You said from behind them.

They all turned to look at you.

"Hey, stay out of it and mind your business!" He pointed at you.

"Make me," you said.

Tiny growled and crouched low to the ground when Jessie took a step towards you. You stayed in your spot as he slowly walked towards the other kids and came to a stop right in front of Clark.

The group backed away slowly with their hands lifted in surrender.

"I don't want to see any of you bothering him again, got it?" You asked.

"Y-y-y-yeah. Yeah, I got it. Just call him off."

"It's okay, Tiny, let them go," you walked closer to your dog.

He was almost as tall as you were sitting on his haunches.

You made a hand motion for them to go and they all practically ran away. You turned to help Clark off the ground and brushed some dirt off of him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, thanks," he said softly.

Mr. Kent made his way over to the two of you. Tiny wagged happily and waited for a few pets from the older man. He ran off plenty of times to the Kent's farm to play with their dog Hank. Plus, he and your father had known one another since childhood.

"I'm not sure how you resisted the urge to break his face, but good for you," you said before waving at Mr. Kent and telling Tiny to come along.

From that day forward, you and Clark had been inseparable. He'd walk you home and then head to the farm.

You'd developed a crush on him as the years went by, but never spoke up about it, because you learned very early that nothing was worse than losing your best friend over a failed relationship.

Besides, once he graduated, he took oddest jobs doing manual labor. It caused him to be gone for months at a time and you knew that wasn't a life you wanted, so after you graduated, you went out of state to college in Metropolis and got a job there.

Clark clutched the bottle of wine in his hand as he knocked on the door. He couldn't understand why he was so nervous. He'd been to this house dozens of times.

"Hey," you greeted him when you opened the door.

"I brought wine," he held up the bottle.

"Thanks, the food is almost ready, so have a seat and I'll be right back." You hurried off.

Once the two of you sat down for dinner you laughed and talked as if you had never parted ways. He was still the same old goofy Clark Kent that you remembered.

You were now on the couch with your legs comfortably tucked behind you and staring into his eyes.

"What?" He asked nervously.

"Nothing, it's just been so long since I've seen that smile. I'm enjoying it."

His face turned red as he blushed at your compliment.

"I do have a question. Something that's been bugging me all day," you scooted closer.

"What's wrong?"

"You never wore glasses when we were growing up. In fact, you could see so far down the road that I thought you placed things just to be funny."

"What? No, I... um, I had an accident on a job site. There was fire and I was a little close. Messed with my eyesight a little...bit." He stammered over his words.

"You always were such a terrible liar, but I'll let it slide, because you're cute." You sipped from your glass.

"You think I'm cute?" He asked, shocked.

"Yes, I always have," you admitted.

"Really? Why haven't you ever told me that?"

"Oh, please, Clark, like you didn't know that I had the biggest crush on you when we were kids," you rolled your eyes.

"No... Well, I — uh... didn't know for sure."

"Mmm hmm," you straddled his lap. "I know you can hear the way my heart beats faster any time I'm near you." You grabbed his hand and pressed it to your chest.

He shifted beneath you. No doubt trying to will himself not to get an erection.

You swivel your hips ever so slightly. To a normal man, that would have been nothing. But to Clark, it was damn near a sensory overload.

He threw his head back and clamped his eyes shut.

"I know that you know how wet I am for you right now," you lifted your dress and dipped your fingers inside of your panties, swirling your wetness around with your fingers.

He was no longer able to contain his erection.

"Look at me," you said.

He opened his eyes and looked at you. You brushed one of your slick coated fingers over his lips before kissing him softly.

"What are you doing?" He was finally able to ask.

"Whatever I want," you said and slid his glasses off of his face.

He looked nervous. You may recognize him without his glasses, so he quickly kissed you.

You trailed soft kisses from his neck to his ear. Biting the lobe once you reached it.

The soft sigh that he released turned you on even more as you grinded into him again.

He shifted his position, so he could lie you flat on your back.

"Can I taste you?" He asks.

He didn't wait for you to reply. He pulled your already soaked panties to the side and licked at your center.

"Ssss, ooh," you hissed.

You threaded your fingers into his hair and grabbed on to those jet black curls. Rocking your hips slowly as he alternated between licking your clit and sucking it into his mouth.

First you felt one finger slide inside of you and shortly after another followed.

"Yes, baby, don't stop," you moaned.

Clark watched your face as he pleasured you. The way you bit your bottom lip and gripped his hair forced him to buck against the couch cushions for a bit of relief.

You squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm neared, but felt your body being lifted and turned. Before you could grasp what was happening, Clark was now on his back and you were riding his face.

You grabbed on to the arm of the couch and placed one foot on the floor and the other by his head.

"Stick your tongue out," you instructed.

When he stuck his tongue out, you lined it up with your needy cavern and let him fuck you with it. You used your other hand to rub your clit and once again your orgasm was nearing.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" You chanted as the familiar feeling washed over your body.

Once again, he readjusted you as if you weighed nothing, bringing you face to face with him. You kissed him again. Moaning into his mouth as your tongues connected.

"Fuck me, Clark, please?" You asked as you unbuttoned his pants and wrapped your hand around his thick throbbing shaft.

He groaned loudly as you stroked him. When you were about to lower yourself onto him he stopped you.

"Wait, I," he cleared his throat, "I've never actually, um, gone all the way..." He admitted.

"I find that very hard to believe with the way you just ate my pussy."

"I learned from... ya know..."

"Good," you slowly lowered yourself onto him. Making sure to keep eye contact as he stretched you wide. "I'm sure you learned how this goes too."

He held on to your hips as you bounced up and down on him. Then he grabbed up the fabric of your dress and ripped it. Kissing the newly exposed globes of your breasts.

He turned you on your back. Lifting your leg high and pushing himself deep into your pussy. Giving you everything that he had.

He tucked his face into your neck as he fucked you.

"Yeah, that's it. Give me that dick, baby," you whispered.

"You feel so good," he groaned.

The closer he got to ecstasy, the more vocal he became.

"Shit!"

"It's okay baby. Give me all that cum. Can I have it?" You asked sweetly.

"Yes!"

"Mmm, yesssss," you clawed at his back as you started cumming. Your pussy tightening around him.

His body started to spasm as he released his load inside of you.

You held on tight until he stopped moving and you loosened your grip. It was only then that you noticed that you were floating in mid air.

"Clark!" You yelped and grabbed onto him again.

He chuckled. "Don't worry, I've got you," he slowly lowered your bodies back down to the sofa.

He pulled out slowly and laid his head in between your breasts taking in the moment. You twirled one of his curls around your finger.

You felt his body suddenly start shaking from laughter.

"What's so funny, Kent?" You asked.

"You just had sex with the kid that you used to protect from bullies. You were my hero,” he said.

"No, I just had sex with the grown man that saves planets."

"So, how long have you known?" He questioned.

"Since the moment I first saw you on TV," you replied.

"Hmm."

"Yeah, and if I hadn't already known, you recognizing my voice from the other aisle when I clearly whispered to myself would've been a dead giveaway."

"Not to mention the whole flying thing just now," he added.

"Exactly," you giggled.

You finally got up before ruining the couch and grabbed his hand to lead him to the bathroom. He looked a little confused at first.

"Surely, you have at least one more round in you, Superman?" You teased.

"I've got as many rounds as you can take," he lifted you and walked up the stairs to the bathroom.

[otonymous]

Roughhoused (MLQC Gavin - NSFW)

Description: Gavin, as you’ve never seen him before Warnings: NSFW/18+:  Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised.  Trigger warnings: rough sex, rough oral sex, spanking, dom/sub, bondage, gun kink, spitting Word Count: 1774 words (~9 mins of pure, shameless smut) AO3: read here Author’s Notes: This story was inspired by this post made by the lovely @dear-mrs-otome.  Apparently, Gavin spitting in my mouth is something I didn’t know I needed in my life until it was pointed out to me 😂 Very smutty and quite rough (please note the warnings above).  That being said, if you’re into it, happy reading! 😊

All characters & Mr Love: Queen’s Choice owned by Elex

The smell of leather intensifies in your nostrils as the side of your face presses even harder against the seat of the motorcycle, and when long fingers weave through your hair to anchor and curl in an iron grip, you let loose a shaky exhale to feel your scalp lift ever so subtly in whichever direction he chooses to pull in.

But there is absolutely nothing subtle about the way his knee parts your legs, sudden and rough, like the blast of cool evening air that hits your skin when he pulls your skirt up to the waist, one large hand ripping the ribbon ties at the side of your panties so hard and fast you barely had time to blink before satin slid down one leg to rest at the ankle — the man who has you pinned and cuffed refusing even an inch of movement to allow you to step out of them in the black stilettos you wore especially for—

“G-Gavin!  Ahh!”

You jump at the touch of his calloused fingers between your legs, stroking hard and impatient and so different from how he usually took you.  But there is little time for contemplation: pulling his hand away, he yanks your hair up and back, directing your gaze towards a face so handsome you feel yourself growing wetter despite the distortion of your body.

“Did I give you permission to call me by name?”

His voice is low.  Husky.  Dangerous.

Hair in the grip of his fist, you merely manage a slight shake of the head, tongue running corner to corner to lick lips parched from panting as you desperately try to find your voice.

“N-No, sir.  I’m sorry, Officer Gavin.  It won’t happen again.”

Desire darkens the amber eyes closing in on your face as his lips approach your open mouth, just shy of touching when he whispers:

“It’s too bad for you I don’t believe in second chances.”

Gavin spits in your mouth, shock combining with the heat and taste of his saliva to make you throb so violently your legs press together, chasing some modicum of relief in the absence of his hand.  And when you find your pussy too slick to secure any sort of friction, a whimper leaves your lips, pathetically begging the officer for his cock.

But he merely meets your supplication with a sneer — gorgeous features frozen in an icy expression as he presses an index finger to his lips, the gesture suppressing your groan as it calls for absolute silence.

“I’ve dealt with scum like you before...”

Fingers still wound in your hair, Gavin forces you to the ground and it takes a moment to find your balance — bare knees on dirt and grass with your hands cuffed at the small of your back.  And as the officer starts to remove his gun from its holster, you track his hands with wide eyes and bated breath.

“…Think you can get away with anything and everything just because you’ve got a beautiful face.”

Finally loosening his hold, he squats before you, the dying rays of sunlight glinting off the insignias of rank on his shoulder to make you squint.  Then…deliberately slow…he caresses you with the barrel, cool metal tempering the heat of crimson cheeks with its touch.  And for a moment, you wondered whether Gavin would agree to slide it between your legs if you swore to spread them wide for his eyes only.

“Tsk, tsk.  Were you expecting something?  You’re not even wearing a bra.”

Nipples hardening even further against the silk of your favourite blouse, you bite back your moans as the gun moves against the skin of your chest, barrel pulling at the front of your top to pop button after button until your breasts are fully exposed to ravenous eyes — Gavin’s throat bobbing conspicuously at the sight.

Bringing up the muzzle of the firearm to rest lightly against your lips, the officer studies you intently, not a hint of pink on his cheeks as he says,

“Well, beautiful, it’s time for you to show me what those pretty little lips can do.”

Salivating on reflex at the sound of his pants unzipping, your mouth immediately parts to accept the smooth head of his cock as it replaces the revolver, now back at his hip.  But before your tongue can even slide out to get that first taste of flesh, he draws back, chuckling under his breath as he taps his erection against your lips.

“Impatient, aren’t we?  Nasty girl.  Mind your manners.”

“Please.”

“‘Please’ what?”

The sharp tone of his voice sends another jolt to your core, the surge of moisture now palpable as it drips from swollen lips.

“Please, Officer Gavin…may I have a taste of your cock?”

“Hmm.”  A tiny smile of approval.

Lower lip disappearing behind the bite of white teeth, Gavin slowly exhales as you take him in your mouth, eyes locked on his all the while.  And when you feel his heat against your cheeks and that strain in your jaw, you hum happily, tongue dancing along the underside of his cock just to get the satisfaction of feeling him twitch at the back of your throat.

But with your wrists still rubbing against the cuffs and knees precariously balanced on uneven ground, it was difficult to satiate your appetite, being unable to build up neither the speed nor depth you were typically used to.

“Can’t even do this properly, can you?  Perhaps some punishment is in order.”

Gavin’s fingers fan out on either side of your head, the grip gentle despite being firm.  Inhaling deeply through your nose, you quickly suppress a smile as you relax your jaw, preparing to receive the officer when he suddenly thrusts into your mouth, spit cascading past lips pulled taut over teeth to coat your chin each time his hips draw back.

And just when you think he is close to spilling across your tongue, Gavin stops, yanking you up by your sleeve to release your bound hands.

If the sheer size of his erection wasn’t intimidating enough, the feral look in his eyes certainly was as he said, “Hands against the bike.”

So you comply, the leather seat soft beneath your palms as you bend forward at an exaggerated angle, attempting to offset the way your heels sink into the ground.

A moment passes.  Then another.  And when you still can’t feel Gavin behind you, you lift your head to seek him out amongst foliage that shielded you both from prying eyes at the side of the quiet road, stopping short when his baritone voice commands:

“Keep your eyes forward.  Lift your skirt and spread your legs wide.  Wider.”

Gaze fixed obediently on the ground, you watch as polished boots step between your stilettos.  And when Gavin’s hand finally reaches around to cup and caress each of your breasts in turn, you cannot help but close your eyes at the sensation of his smooth head sliding along the length of your folds, coating himself liberally in your arousal before pressing against your entrance.

His breath is hot in your ear when he whispers, “Does this excite you?”

Before you could even answer, one powerful swing of his hips has him buried to the hilt in your pussy, leaving your mouth gaping open in a silent gasp as Gavin fucks you, relentless in both speed and force.

Smack!

“Mmm!”

Your cry rings out in the open air when the officer brings his hand down hard on your supple ass, and when the initial sting gives way to blooming warmth, you look back to see his hand raised once more, Gavin’s eyes dark with threat and lust as he poses the question yet again, this time slow and deliberate:

“Does.  This.  Excite.  You?”

Smack!

“Ahhh!  Yes!  Yes, it excites me, Officer Gavin!”

Breathlessly, you spit the words out, and when you feel his palm rubbing over the sore flesh of your backside, the unexpected tenderness has you clenching so hard he hisses behind you.

Relinquishing its hold on your hip, Gavin’s hand snakes south until his fingers find their way between your folds — index, middle finger and thumb deftly exploring: savouring the friction in the tight spaces where he dove in and out of your body, testing the consistency of your arousal that dripped and accumulated.  

Drawing concentric patterns around your already sensitized clit as they gradually build up the pressure and velocity needed to send tremors coursing through your body.

“Come…hmm…come with me.  This is an order.”  Gavin’s voice trembles ever so slightly as he issues his final command, spoken against the shell of your ear.

“Y-yes, Officer Gavin.”

Securing your grip on the seat of the motorbike, your face distorts from pleasure and the effort expended in trying to remain silent despite the way Gavin moved within your body — hot, hard and fast as he approached his climax and brought you to the edge of yours.

And when the soft bite of teeth at the nape of your neck coincides with liquid warmth rhythmically inundating you from within, every nerve in your body conspires to snap the tension in tight muscles, the violence of your climax leaving you limp and clinging helplessly to the bike for support.

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

“I’m so sorry.  Was I too rough this time?  Did I get carried away?”

Lips curling into an amused smile, you plant a kiss on Gavin’s cheek, admiring the red that crept up to the tips of his ears.

“You were absolutely perfect, Gavin.  Didn’t slip out of your role, not even once!  And that bit with your unloaded gun?  Perfection.  But you can put me down now, I can walk by myself.  My place is right there, and besides…people are starting to stare.”

Your lover breathes a sigh of relief, readjusting his grip to carry you even closer to his chest.

“I couldn’t care less about them, let them stare.  The only one I care about is you.  Besides, are you sure you’re alright?  I…I didn’t hold back at all earlier.  You must be sore.”

Brows furrowed, a hint of remorse crosses the handsome officer’s face as he searches your eyes, soft tenderness wrapped up in a hard-boiled exterior, the entirety of the man making you melt all over again.

“Sore in all the right places,” you snicker in his ear, beaming to see him grin in response.  Then, lowering your voice to a whisper, you ask, “Why don’t we put you in the handcuffs the next time around?”

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[korkrunchcereal]

Dusk

Upon a nearby hill Bal-Varos Eyvor watches the host that has gathered, sitting astride a destrier black. In the northern pass of the Tempest Coast he vowed to make his stand, sending out a call for aid from the remaining southern powers. The first to answer had been the Lady of the Coast herself, for the enemy threatened her home and she could not allow such sacrilege. Next had come the people of the Gilded Lands, fractious by nature yet when faced with a common threat were the fiercest of allies.

Beside banners silver marked with the grey flame he watches the unfurling of the Blackfyre banners, and beside that were such houses as Dawngrasp, Sol and Indaris. Every house had sent soldiers or were otherwise represented by fierce patriots of their homes. Even men he knew to be of low reputation had come in motley bands of cutthroats and thieves, yet come they did in defense of their home. As the morning sun rose above the pass, he watches a shimmering gleam of steel catching the first rays of light.

They had come to protect their homes for they could not bear to see darkness destroy the world. Bal-Varos feels the blood pumping in his veins at the sight; by the gods he had not commanded such a host in decades. It felt good to wear the plates again, rather than the statesman’s robes. It felt right. His eyes, wizened with age, stared out beyond the army now and instead to the pass. Unconsciously he taps his fingers against the steel of his helm tucked into the crest of his arm, mimicking the pounding of drums.

“It is an impressive sight.” A woman’s voice called from behind him. Bal-Varos turns in the saddle to watch as the Lady Greyflame herself approached. Upon a silver hawkstrider she rode, her armor that of the Tempest Knights she so famously commanded. Yet greatest of all adornments was that of her dragonscale cloak, dyed grey to subdue the bright ruby it had once been.  

“Aye, it is.” Bal-Varos answers in acknowledgement. He turns back to eye the pass, brow furrowing in thought. “How many do you think we have? Two thousand?”

“People, yes. Veteran soldiers? Half that.”

“Mmm…” Bal-Varos nods with the assessment. He briefly glances to the black bear banner of his own house, forefront among all others. Greyflame was probably right. He could count upon his own soldiers he had brought, for none were as fierce or well trained in the Gilded Lands. Beyond that? The Greyflame Knights and some small smattering of soldiers. The rest were an uncertainty, yet he cannot second guess their intent or their use.

“There is less than I had hoped for.”

“More than I expected.” Bal-Varos sighs, a frown crossing his features. “Gods, it aches my heart. Two thousand…I remember when we had twenty thousand.”

“The Scourge’s wounds still linger to this day. We are not nor ever will be the same for it.”

“I know. It still boils my blood; damn the human boy. Reducing us to this state, with each battle a desperate bloody gamble for success.” Bal-Varos let go of the reins, realizing he had gripped them so tight as to turn his knuckles white. “Still, two thousand will have to do. We do not have time to rally anymore.”

“So the scouts reports are true then? The Blackbloods will be here soon?”

“Aye.” Bal-Varos nods once more. “They say by day’s end, but I think sooner. Foul purpose hastens their march upon us.” To slaughter us, though he does not speak those words.

“No doubt they will greatly outnumber us. You sent men ahead?”

“I dispatched several of my best just before the sun’s rise. I expect they’ll be back within an hour or two, I think.”

“Good.” Greyflame pauses before she speaks again, her tone neutral. “I don’t like the look of those clouds.”

“Clouds?” Bal-Varos looks up, squinting as he stares beyond the pass. In the distance were grey clouds swollen with rain, seemingly travelling south towards them. “Bah, it’s rain. Doesn’t it rain all the damn time in the Coast?”

“Yes, but rain dampens the strings of bows and turns the dirt slick and uneven. It’ll make for harder fighting should it arrive before the battle. I hear as well Blackbloods fear fire, and rain will rob us of such.”

“Oh? Where’d you hear that from.”

“Survivors of the Ridges massacre.” An awkward pause follows the statement, as Bal-Varos is uncertain how to respond immediately. He had heard of the tragedy of the Ridges to the northeast. It was already a land of ill omens before the invasion of the Blackbloods. Now? Bal-Varos can only imagine what horrors dwell in that cursed place.

“They say the Blackbloods fear fire?”

“The Blackbloods are undead given life by the void. Such abominations cannot stand the blessed warmth of fire, nor can they bring back our dead if the body is burned. Pray the rain holds, Bal-Varos. We shall certainly need any help we can get in this I fear.”

“Gods it is a poor day when I must battle nature too. Some evil purpose must favor our enemy, to bring the chance of rain on the day they’ll arrive.”

“Evil purpose, or simply bad chance. And as I said, perhaps the rain shall not reach us when battle is joined. I fear such is unlikely however, for those clouds swiftly approach.”

“Bah! It rained too the Day of Weeping. Up to our knees in muck and gore and death that day. Gods I can still feel the mud that seeped into your boots.” Bal-Varos sighs, remembering that day bitterly. Back then it had been Arcannon Indaris who ruled house Indaris, and no man ever lived so arrogant and proud. He had thought it possible to face the scourge invasion head on. He had convinced all the lords, including Bal-Varos, to meet the undead on an open field rather than fortify their holdings. It had been a disaster.

“Yes, the unfortunate truth of our part of the kingdom is that it often rains. Yet even still, I would take the rain over the temperate north. There, they breed only laxness for no hardship befalls the meadows and hills there. They have never known the harsh wave upon the crags, nor the fierce winds that howl. They do not know how to brace for the storm as we do.”

“They don’t even know how to brace for a shit, let alone a storm.” Greyflame chuckles at his joke, Bal-Varos spotting her shake her head out of the corner of his eye. “The fops in the north have been kept isolated by fighting. They were unprepared, and it shows. Took southern lords to save the north; men like the Truefeathers and the Netherstars. Fighting men.”

“They’re not saved yet. If the Blackbloods take the southwest, they have an easily fortified position to reinforce and expand dramatically. Already the Ridges are lost, and Havenblaze I imagine is in ruins or soon to be. As well, the rest of my lands and the Gilded Lands have all evacuated to the sea leaving our host the last stand.”

“Well, we certainly cannot afford to lose then, can we? Gods knows my ancestors would not allow me peace in death if an Indaris was all that’s left.”

“Speaking of Indaris,” Greyflame begins, “Have I heard correct in that he still marches north?”

“Aye, he’s with the Sunguard though I have had no word from him in weeks.”

“Nor have I. His brother and sister were on board one of the ships evacuating, but there was no sign of his betrothed or Cyvar.”

“Wrenth? Gods if there was ever a man with their talent wasted. No doubt he’s with the Indaris boy, or otherwise holed up in their pretty castle to wait out the storm.”

“Hopefully if anyone in that house were to live it’d be Wrenth. I can actually stomach his presence, which is more than can be said of his master.”

“Aye, a weasel shit that one. Still, the boy is damn cunning and is much like his father, for better or for worse. Besides, despite his many flaws he at least has the Gilded Lands interest at heart if only because it aligns with his own.”

“Perhaps…and perhaps he is simply just a snake with a golden opportunity.” The words hang in the air, broken only by the shifting of Bal-Varos’ horse. It stomps its hooves into the dirt, shifting nervously. Greyflame looks over, a brow raising. “I told you, you should take one of our hawkstriders. The Quilreven breed we have is the finest in the kingdom. They’d serve you better amid the Coast than your horse.”

“Bah; I hate the damn chickens. Besides, your birds are small. On the charge they’ll lose to a horse every time.”

“That I know to be false. None are as swift or as fierce as the Quilreven, especially on uneven ground.”

“And I’m telling you, a battle trained destrier is- “Bal-varos pauses as the sound of a horn interrupts him. He immediately looks northward upon the peak of the pass. The guards he had put there had spotted something. Blackbloods?

“Blackbloods?” Greyflame echoed Bal-Varos thoughts, though he shakes his head.

“I don’t think so. Perhaps it’s the scouts returning.”

“So early? That does not bode well.”

“Whatever it is, we won’t find out here.” Bal-Varos snaps the reins, his horse taking off. Behind him he hears the shrieking caw of Greyflame’s hawkstrider, the beast soon darting to move beside Bal-Varos. Down the hill they ride, past tents and soldiers still readying for war. Their destination is beyond the camp, beasts moving past armored knights and formations of troops until they stand at the forefront. Before them the maw of the pass looms, threatening to swallow them whole.

“A rider comes.” Greyflame’s eyes were true, for deep in the pass Bal-Varos watches a lone figure approach upon horseback. Bal-Varos could not make out which of the scouts it was, eyes narrowing. Why was he alone?

“Where are the others?” He voices with concern. There was something strange about the way the horse moved. It was awkward almost, as if unaccustomed to sprinting.

“Something’s wrong.” Greyflame announced. Bal-Varos turns to watch as she dismounts, moving to a nearby soldier armed with a crossbow. She does not ask for it, instead snatching it out of his hand. “Bolt.”

“Greyflame, what are you doing?” She ignores Bal-Varos, grabbing the bolt offered to her. Before Bal-Varos could act she pulled the trigger, a steel tip whizzing through the air. It slammed square into the torso of the horse, sending it collapsing to the ground hard. “What have you done!”

“That’s not your scout.” In bewilderment he turns to look at her, then the fallen body. To his horror, he watches the horse get back up, seemingly unfazed along with its rider. Another bolt is fired, finding purchase in the horse’s skull and causing it to fall once more. This time it did not get back up. Its rider however clawed its way out from under the corpse of its steed.

“What in the hell…” The rider charged at Bal-Varos, hands outstretched. This close, Bal-Varos recognizes the rider as one of his scouts, only the man’s neck was twisted at an unnatural angle and a hole was in his chest. A third bolt felled the man, piercing skull and brain and sending him collapsing to the ground. A miasma of black smoke oozed from the wound, shrouding the body in a foul cloud. Bal-Varos turns his attention to Greyflame for explanation, though he already knows as a sinking feeling hits his gut.

“We don’t have until day’s end. They’re here. Now.” Greyflame lowers the crossbow, face twisting in rage. Above them a great horn sounded once more, though this time there was a sense of urgency to it. It rang out thrice in a great boom that echoed through the pass. Bal-Varos feels a chill run up his spine, the hair on the back of his neck rising in protest to the horn.

The Blackbloods were here.

“Men, to your position!” Bal-Varos barks, wheeling his horse around to face the army. “Captain Eyvor shall hold the left flank. Captain Euwen shall hold the right, and I will command the center alongside Lady Greyflame.” He places his helmet on, vision narrowing to the slits in the steel. Swiftly he withdraws his sword, letting the blade ring out its cry. “Fear not this darkness that comes, for it cannot stand against true and just men! You are elves of Quel’thalas! Elves of the South! This is your land. Land you have bled to hold against the Alliance, the undead and now the Blackbloods! The day will be bloody and fierce, yet tomorrow a red sun shall rise over our victory. For Quel’thalas!”

“For Quel’thalas!” Hundreds of voices responded.

“The South stands strong!” Cheers echoed from near two thousand voices, and for a moment Bal-Varos feels hope. These were true sons and daughters of Quel’thalas. Today, they would prove why they are children of the blood. Yet as Bal-Varos turns to face the pass, his heart sinks in his chest at what he witnesses. By the gods, there were so many. Blackened horrors from the worst of nightmares crawled and writhed as they moved through the pass. The distance was well over a thousand yards, and from here it was merely indistinguishable shapes that squirmed with ill intent. Like a black festering wound they poured forward, the very shadows shirking from their presence.

“It was wise to make our stand in the pass.” Greyflame’s voice cuts through the air, nearly causing Bal-Varos to jump in his saddle. He turns to look at her, seeing a cavalry flail held loosely in her grip. “We can hold thirty men abreast at its narrowest. Their numbers will mean little in this funnel. Though we should move behind the front lines.” Bal-Varos nodded, pulling on his horse. The ranks of his men parted for their commanders, letting them move to safety. The terrain and battle left little room for cavalry, and so the two dismounted. This would be a meat grinder of infantry.

“Aye. Gods, look at them. What sort of evil is this?”

“The foulest of all. In men there is greed and lust and all manner of wicked vices, but in this? There is no motivation for power. There is no want or desire, save for destruction and annihilation. This is primordial in its hatred for life. In truth, I wonder if it is even capable of thought, or if its simply driven by the unconscious urge to consume?”

“Bah; a question for scholars, not warriors. It is a monster, pure and simple. Its thoughts and desires mean little to me. No better than a beast, and like a rabid dog it needs to be put down.” Closer now the enemy drew and from here Bal-Varos picks out mortals amid such monsters. The Void elves, or Ren’dorei as they called themselves, marched in formation amidst the chaotic charge of the Blackbloods. United in evil deeds, they were the worst of men. Bal-Varos grips the hilt of his sword fiercely in anger, blood boiling.

“Steady men!” Greyflame’s voice booms over the battlefield, though she mutters quietly to Bal-Varos now. “We’re outnumbered bad.”

“As you said; their numbers will mean little as long as we hold the pass, though I will confess I wished for the use of cavalry.” No response was given, for instead Greyflame raised her flail skyward, her voice strong with fervor and command.

“Archers! Fire!” In response, dozens if not hundreds of arrows and bolts flew through the air, arcing high for but a moment before raining down upon the Blackbloods. Before the first volley had even hit, a second was let loose. Shapeless abominations though they were, they were yet creatures bound in mortal coil and thus fell beneath the many-colored rain of fletching. Steel pierced flesh and bone and whatever else the gods had deemed these creatures be made of, felling scores. It did not slow them.

“We’re in for a tough fight alright…” Bal-Varos pushes aside the man in front of him, taking his place in the line with longsword drawn. He was a warrior king, not a philosopher. Many would deem themselves too important to fight on the front lines, and instead hide in the rear. Bal-Varos had never been such a man. He fights beside his men because how could he ask them to die for him, if he would not die for them?

Amidst his people, Bal-Varos was quite large in size, and towered a full head over even the tallest here. He would be the rock to hold the line and as long as he stands, it would not bend or break. Gods these monsters were hideous. Many did not hold a singular form, for they writhed and shifted in jerking motions. Some had two eyes and others a great many, though even that would change on a whim. This was chaos given an evil form for evil deeds. Yet among these monsters and the Void Elves marched the dead. Elven faces twisted with malice shambled, a faint violet hue to their movements.

Whatever foul sorcery had brought them back had allowed them at least the ability to wield weapons however clumsily, for spears and swords were gripped with ill intent. That was all they were afforded in this cursed resurrection for they marched with mindless obedience to whatever commanded such a host. Bal-Varos bares his teeth, though such his hidden behind his helm. He can smell them now, a sickly stench of rotting meat and fruit assailing his senses. He suppresses a gag, though others beside him are not so fortunate.

“That smell…it’s terrible!” A voice cries beside him.

“That it is. No worse than a goblin’s brothel though, I imagine. Little less oil here though.” Bal-Varos’ jest has the intended effect, easing the panic that was growing in the soldiers around him. Some had even chuckled.

“Can we win, my lord?”

“Yes.” Greyflame moves to stand beside Bal-Varos now as she speaks, looking to the world the warrior queen she was. Bal-Varos remembers the rumors of her with amusement; none had ever bested her in battle in the Coast. She was the tempest itself from which her land was named, unstoppable in her fury. The Indaris boy had bested her true, though the fighting had been fixed to ensure the safety of Greyflame’s people. Had it not been? Bal-Varos was unsure who the victor would have been, though he guesses it would not have been Aurelian.

“Men of the South! Brace yourselves!” Bal-Varos’ command was met by a wall of spears around him. The Blackbloods would break themselves upon the steel and flesh of elves, ready to die for their home. He grips his sword with both hands now, the great mantle of the bear cloak waving lightly around him in the soft breeze that rose. Overhead the clouds had darkened, the sun fading in the approach of the storm. Yes, it did look like rain.

A final volley landed amidst the Blackbloods before they struck with the force of a thunderbolt. In the opening charge dozens died, their blackened forms oozing away from spearpoint and sword tip. Bal-Varos claims the first strike with a roar of anger upon his lips, sword hewing a monster with a dozen eyes and as many limbs in twain. Steel pierced and sliced against the flesh of the Blackbloods, yet more charged over the bodies of the fallen.

Like a great wave they crashed against the rock that was the elven line. The great numbers of the Blackbloods was meaningless in this small pass, though they had a great many to throw against the elves. Arrows and bolts continued to rain down upon the Blackbloods, for their great horde was clumped up so stymied as they were. Sorcerous fire too began to rain down in bolts of lightning and fire, for the magi of the coast and of house Blackfyre commanded each with fierce precision. Battle had a funny way of making strangers allies, for together they struck with fury.

Bal-Varos himself was a god of war. Each sword blow brought ruin and death upon the Blackbloods, for they balked against his rage. Beside him, Greyflame was an avatar of vengeance. They had said she possessed supernatural strength and was blessed by gods, and right now Bal-Varos believed such tales. She smote the Blackbloods with ease, sending their bodies flying as if they were little more than dolls. Bal-Varos watches a void elf charge her, a sword and shield in hand. She strikes against the shield, crumpling it like parchment and sending him flying in a broken heap.

Around him men bled and died. Though the Blackbloods could not use the full force of their numbers, they still had many to throw. They were seemingly infinite, whilst the elves were finite. Each death is a loss Bal-Varos can barely afford, and dying the elves were. A colossal beast with two heads smashed into the elven line, sending men scattering like dice. Behind it the Blackbloods surged, trying to pierce further the wall. Concentrated fire brought the monster down, and stout hearts pushed back the Blackbloods.

This happened all along the battle line, however. Wave after wave of monsters charged fearlessly against the ichor laden steel of the elves and though they died, they could afford such deaths. Exhaustion would set in, for no man can keep fighting forever. Even Bal-Varos begins to feel his arms ache, for he slays monster after monster with great rending hews. Sweat beads his brow in exertion, though he keeps fighting.

By now the ground had become slick with blood and gore, causing men to slip and stumble. The screams of the dying were matched by the roars of monsters, and the smell…gods the smell. They never tell you about the smell. Bal-Varos gags as he cleaves a Ren’dorei in twain, the odor of death and shit pungent as blood spews across his tabard. He was getting tired, and there was no end in sight to the Blackbloods. He takes a brief moment to look skywards, cursing for he could not tell how much time had passed yet.

The ground shakes beneath Bal-Varos’ feet, drawing his attention down to the earth. There is a great hissing sound, followed by a low wail. He looks up, going wide eyed. A fog of purple miasma was racing towards the elven line, the source hidden behind the horde of bodies. Though it did not affect the Blackbloods, Bal-Varos knew such would not be the same for the elves. An elf too far forward is caught by the fog, and his screams pierce the battle. In seconds he dies, body a sickly hue. Moments later he pulls himself up, and Bal-Varos curses.

“They use foul magic!” He cries out, voice hoarse from shouting. “The mist will doom us!” Greyflame must have heard him, for she stepped forward against the fog. The fog seemed to shirk away from her presence, being dispelled by the simple act of her existing. The hair on the back of Bal-Varos’ neck rises, recognizing there was some power afoot though one he did not recognize. Yet Greyflame’s very presence cast back the fog long enough for her storm magi to cast fierce winds, and the fog was no more.

Yet despite this, the elves were losing ground. The sheer weight of the Blackbloods was slowly pushing them back. Men tripped over their fallen, only to be consumed and swallowed whole by monsters. Each inch brought more Blackbloods against the elven lines, the gap of the pass widening. Though hundreds of the monsters lay dead, they simply kept coming.

“Hold you bastards!” Bal-Varos commands. He stands his ground, a giant among men. For a time he is alone amidst a sea of darkness, dozens of blows raining down upon him. Most do nothing against the thick plates he wears, though some find purchase in the gaps. His bones ache now, and he swings his sword with great effort. He cannot break or fall back, however. He must stand and fight.

Bal-Varos bleeds now, faint stains of crimson beneath his tabard. A Ren’dorei had driven a dagger into his side, piercing plate and mail. Bal-Varos’ response was to separate the Ren’dorei’s head from her shoulders, but the damage was done. The great bear was wounded, and it began to show. He is slow to block and parry, and for a moment it looks that the bear would fall. He is made of sterner stuff however, and the bear is fiercest when met with death. He lets out a mighty roar, his sword cleaving in a great arc. Creatures guided by malice and instinct, the Blackbloods shirk away for in some recess of their twisted forms they recognize fear.

Fear that the bear will devour them.

Thunder booms overhead, and Bal-Varos is joined by Greyflame and the troops, who stand beside their lord. Lightning cracks in the sky, and they strike. Some unknown command forces the Blackbloods back and for a brief moment there is respite. Bal-Varos collapses to a knee, panting hard. He is exhausted, the weight of his sword aching. A hand clasps his shoulder, and he looks to up Greyflame. She is covered in blood but suffers no fatigue. Damn magic.

“Stand, Eyvor. The enemy threatens us still!” Slowly Bal-Varos rises, leaning upon his sword for a moment. With a deep breath he readies himself. He hears the wounded cry out, and the panting of men. He sees the broken bodies of his people scattered amidst the stygian hordes they have felled. They’ve put up a good fight so far. They-

A great horn pierces the air. The sound is ugly and cut short.

It is terrified.

It is doom.

Bal-Varos looks up to where the horn sounded and goes wide eyed with surprise. The Blackbloods were upon the crest of the peak. The horn was a warning; the enemy had scaled the walls of the peak itself. There were dozens, nay hundreds descending from the rocky outcropping. No mortal man could scale such a face without dedicated equipment and time, but these were not men. Some of the creatures fell to their deaths, unable to keep their grip yet many more still were behind.

Numbers counted for nothing within the pass, yet past it? Numbers were everything. The Blackbloods would flank and swarm the elves like locusts. They were going to be surrounded, and Bal-Varos cries out in rage. Damn them and their trickery and damn himself for not expecting such tactics. The situation was desperate now. He knows they could not retreat in any organized fashion; such would be too slow, and the Blackbloods would devour them all. A disorganized route would also doom the elves. No, there was only one course left, and he gives a silent prayer before uttering his command.

“Stand your ground! Greyflame gather the cavalry; we will need them very soon.” She gives a silent nod, her eyes trained on the descending Blackbloods as she leaves. The elves had exhausted their supply of arrows and bolts, leaving the creatures unmolested as they climbed down the pass. “Men of the South! Today is the day heroes are made. Swords will shatter! Spears will splinter! Yet we will not go quietly into the void that awaits. The South stands strong!”

The enemy had rallied now, and once more surged against the elves. Bal-Varos does not hold his ground, however. He meets them on the field, charging against the tide. He is tired and he is wounded, but he is not dead yet. Behind him dozens follow their lord and commander, ready to charge into hell itself should he order it. Not all were of house Eyvor, yet they follow the bear as if he is their lord. As thunder boomed overhead once more the two forces collided. There is great slaughter as man and monster alike fall in a desperate battle of survival. Bal-Varos hears fighting from behind and knows the Blackbloods upon the peak have reached the ground. He knows his daughter fights there yet and prays for her safety. Yet he cannot think further on it, for the battle was in front of him.

His sword is slick in his hands from blood. How many has he killed now? It felt like dozens. Even still hundreds if not thousands more were behind each monster he slew. He cannot fight forever and he knows it, yet he fights until death claims him. Death has already claimed many. He would be but one more amidst an endless sea of bodies, yet until that moment comes he fights. Slowly he finds himself surrounded, for the others are dead.

He is alone.

He does not stop fighting.

He cuts down another of the monsters, turning as a great force strikes him. He is sent flying through the air from the blow, and lands hard. He feels several ribs are broken, and it hurts to breath. He tries to rise, though stabs up as something lunges. Sword pierces flesh, and a mass of writhing limbs falls on him before going still. He is pinned under the weight of the creature, and more come yet. A lumbering monstrosity, no doubt the beast that had struck him, looms overhead. It raises its fists to deliver the killing blow.

The blow never comes.

Something charges behind Eyvor, a great shadow leaping overhead. He looks up, seeing feathers and a cloak dull grey. Greyflame has come to save the bear. She roars, her lance she has brought piercing the giant aberration. It falls hard, lance tip broken in its skull. She discards the broken weapon, flail now in hand and she smites the Blackbloods with fury. Her hawkstrider battles too, pecking and clawing at any that approached.

“Get up, Eyvor! Your gods are not done with you yet.” He strains against the weight, and with a roar he throws the corpse off him. Slowly he rises, breathing heavily. It hurt, but the pain was good. He was still alive. Greyflame was still fighting as if not burdened by fatigue, each blow as strong as the last. Witnessing her, Bal-Varos is certain now Aurelian would not have stood a chance in a real fight. She was an unstoppable goddess, each blow met with thunder above. For a moment he wonders if Greyflame commands the sky above, though cannot voice such questions.

The ground seems to shudder under him, as if quaking in fear. Behind he hears panicked cries, and he turns quickly. A great pillar of darkness strikes down from the sky upon the surviving elves with such force as to temporarily deafen, and when he regains his hearing he is met with panicked screams. Then he sees it; the route. The elves were fleeing as more strikes from the very heavens rained down. He turns back to Greyflame, shouting for her.

“Greyflame! Our lines are breaking. We must go and rally them!” She does not answer at first, though quickly pulls the reins of her hawkstrider. The beast caws, before turning and taking off. Greyflame offers out a hand to Bal-Varos, easily pulling the large man upon the saddle as if he weighed nothing. Gods she was strong. The two rode hard down the pass, past Blackbloods that shirked away momentarily. Yet Bal-varos hears them behind shrieking and howling, and he knows they follow behind. The two emerge from the maw of the pass into disaster. The elves were beginning to flee. The foul magic from the sky had broken several holes in their lines, and the Blackbloods filled the gaps.

“Stand your ground, damn you!” Bal-Varos shouts, though they cannot hear him. There is a howling tempest growing around him and Greyflame now, as if the very sky is threatening to swallow them. Dark magic coalesced around Bal-Varos in a fine mist, and he felt fear. Gods this was the end. There was no hope of victory this day, nor any other day. He had led his men to die, and for what? A hopeless task. Dully he hears his name, though it sounds as if underwater. They were going to drown be-

“EYVOR!” Greyflame’s voice snaps him from his stupor. He blinks rapidly, shaking his head to clear it. The enchantment over him faded with the mist, and he felt courage in his heart once more. “My magi are dead as well as the Blackfyre warlocks, and without them the enemy is free to bewitch our forces. The Blackbloods have someone powerful to curse our forces.”

“Do you know where they are?”

“Yes. They are deep amidst the host of our enemy, protected by a living wall. We cannot reach them.”

“Damn it. We must rally who we can and hold.”

“It is too late; we cannot reform in time to mount a proper defense. They’ve broken through the pass.” Bal-Varos swore, though he knew Greyflame spoke true. Their defeat was sealed when the Blackbloods scaled the walls of the pass.

“We must get word to the surviving commanders! We need to rally at Seahallow! We can mount a defense there.” And let the others die. He does not voice it, but they both knew what it meant. The Blackbloods would have free reign to raze the countryside and slaughter any that had remained behind. The Tempest Coast and the Gilded Lands would burn.

“It seems we have no other option. We- “Greyflame pauses before she pulls hard on the reins, wheeling the hawkstrider around. Bal-Varos does not see what strikes them, simply feeling the overwhelming force. A bright light blinds him, a great heat burning at his face. He brings a hand up to shield his eyes and he hears a grunt from Greyflame. The hawkstrider jerks beneath him, before taking off in a full sprint with a shrieking caw.

When he regains his sight he sees they are fleeing the battle eastward in the direction of the coastline. Behind him the Blackbloods howl, though they do not catch the Hawkstrider so easily. Greyflame is wordless as she rides, though something is wrong. Bal-Varos senses a strange tension in the woman and can all but feel the uncertainty. Finally, he finds his voice.

“What was that!”

“A spell.” She replies and he can hear how weak she now sounds. “A powerful one.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. I stopped it from killing us, though it sent the beast into a panic. I cannot control the Hawkstrider, anymore. It flees with us on it.”

“Damn it, we need to find the other commanders!”

“If your daughter is as smart as I think, she will know what to do if she yet lives. If not? No force on Azeroth will save our army.”

“If there is one left.” Bal-Varos mutters grimly. With time to breath came time to realize the full extent of his injuries. He is wounded badly and exhausted and struggles to stay conscious now. He closes his eyes for a moment. Sleep sounds nice right now. Just a little sleep.

“Stay with me, Eyvor.” Greyflame’s command keeps him awake. He cannot rest. Not yet. Gods he hurts though. They ride for what seems an hour before the hawkstrider collapses from exhaustion. Dismounting, he sees now the front of the beast was horrifically burned. Surprisingly Greyflame was untouched save a strange scorch mark against her breastplate though she paid it no mind. She instead looks outwards, and Eyvor realizes they are overlooking the sea.

“It’s beautiful.” He mutters, a hand pressing against his wound. In truth Bal-Varos has always loved the coastline. There was something awe inspiring to watch the waves crash against the rocks, unbending and unbroken. Yet in a thousand years even the rocks would erode against the waves and would swallow the world.

“Yes. I- “Greyflame pauses, turning to look at her hawkstrider. He follows her gaze and hisses, for the hawkstrider’s wounds had begun to fester and bubble.

“What is going on with it?!” In answer the beast roars, the sound unnatural. From its wounds ooze black ichor, and Bal-Varos realizes now what’s happening. He runs forward, thrusting his sword into the Hawkstrider’s neck. Steel parts flesh with ease, and soon the beast was still. “Whoreson magic. Now we’re without steed.”

“And we’re not alone.” Greyflame warns. She points to the west, and Bal-Varos looks. There were a dozen Blackbloods rapidly approaching. He curses, realizing they had been following the hawkstrider. Undoubtedly the beast had been marked and like moths to a flame attracted the Blackbloods to them. “Can you fight?”

“Do I have a choice?” He hoists his sword over a shoulder, grimacing.

“No.” With that Greyflame charges forward, Bal-Varos fast behind. They would meet the Blackbloods head on. They would not go whimpering into the afterlife, but instead face it with steel drawn. Lightning lit up the sky as the two elves smashed against the Blackbloods. Bal-Varos hacked and hewed his way through the beasts in desperation, each swing harder to do than the last.

He howls as something pierces his side. Bal-Varos looks down at the oily purple tendril that has broken through the plating into flesh, and with a cry he brings his sword down upon his assailant. Something hard presses itself against his back, and he cranes his neck to spot Greyflame. Back to back the two hold their ground as the monsters roar, biting and jabbing in some attempt to kill. Bal-Varos hears Greyflame grunt in pain but does not see what caused it.

They are few now, and one leaps at Bal-Varos. He brings his sword down hard but cannot raise it in time to stop the other. Jaws bite down hard into his shoulder, teeth piercing plate and biting deep into flesh. He does not cry out but instead slams his head against the monster. It weakens its grip but does not let go. Bal-Varos shoves his sword upward into the jaw of the beast, and it finally stills. As it falls, it brings Bal-Varos down with him.

Greyflame slides down with him, the two sitting in the dirt back to back. Struggling, he weakly saws at the monster’s neck, leaving its head still buried in his shoulder as the rest of it collapses. There is nothing in him except exhaustion, now. His wounds are a dull throb, and the haft of his sword has long grown slippery with ichor and blood. He can rest now. The midden heaps of Blackblood corpses around them is still and slain.

Time passes.

“It’s over then, do you think?” he asks, of the knight behind him.

“Mm.” Greyflame’s reply is weak.

“Hardest fight of my life. Should’ve…should’ve sent my daughter off with your boy now that I think about it, eh?”

“It’s bad luck to talk about regrets before dying, Eyvor.” Her voice trails off.

“Ah, I guess you’re right.” He grunts, letting his sword drop into the dirt. “We need…we need to rally the others. We might be able to strike against the rear of the Blackbloods before…before they destroy our lands.”

…

“Greyflame?”

…

“Wake up. Wake up. You’ve got a people to lead, don’t you?”

…

“Ceana?”

…

Bal-Varos sighs.

It begins to rain.

[miffy-melly]

Morning Love

Colossus / Piotr Rasputin x Plus size reader

he's your husband in this so fight me

Summary: Just a nice lovely morning with your husband hahaaa... yeah...

Pairing »» Colossus/Piotr Rasputin x Plus size reader

Fandom »» Marvel

Warnings »» Grammar, didn’t have anyone to look over this oops! Fluff and sweet smut.

Tag list »» @thehuntress26

A/N »» All the Russian that I use... I apologize if they are wrong and I'm thinking of starting some taglists thingies so I'll work on that some time this week hopefully.

Myshka - little mouse

Kotyonok - Kitten

Dorogaya - darling

Solnechnyy svet - little sunshine

Moya zhena - my wife

Moya lyubov - my love

This was fun to write, some people asked to make this like a series but when I seen it I was already done so I'm sorry maybe I'll do another one and some other marvel characters 💕💕💕!! I hope you all enjoy!!

The light rain drizzled outside the window from the storm that had passed, beating gently against the glass sounded throughout the room. Birds chirping sweetly as small rays of sun shined through Piotr's blinds, soaking both you. You sighed feeling lips leave light kisses over your belly, running your hands over his broad shoulders as Piotr made his way to place soft kisses on your shoulder as he pulled you over with him placing you on top, you could feel pressure being applied to your wide hips as pulled you further into his lap while shifting back into the headboard and pillows behind him. "Myshka," Piotr gruff voice whispered into your neck, you to softly bit your lip as Piotr places sweet, gentle kisses across your jawline traveling down to your neck making your moan quietly. He wrapped his large arms around your thick waist pulling you into his chest, grazing his free hand up your plump bare thigh hiking it under your shirt.

"You are so soft kotyonok," He mumbles smiling softly pulling away from you, his other hand crept over your plump tummy squeezing you slightly. Seeing the sunlight falling on your body perfectly stole his breath away falling for you all over again causing him to smile brightly.

"What are you staring at love?" You ask wrapping your arms around his neck mirroring his smile. "My little solnechnyy svet," he answered his Russian accent spilling like honey. Hearing those words slip past his lips made your face heat up. "You're such a sweetheart." You replied shyly causing him to chuckle as he ran a hand over your cheek, "Little solnechnyy svet," Piotr repeated tilting your head up placing a soft loving kiss on your lips. You instantly respond by returning his affection, enjoying the cool warm metal against your flush lips.

"Mmm- I crave for moments like this," Piotr mentioned as he pulled away breaking the kiss; always hoping to keep you and your warmth here in bed with him all day whenever he gets the opportunity. You smiled brightly as your eyes met his, "I love you, Piotr." you declared before kissing him again. Piotr hummed tightening his grip on you. Wrapping your arms around his neck you pull him closer into your plump form relishing the warmth of his body as his lips moved against yours, slowly deepening the kiss. "Piotr." You moan out as you shift your body up so you can trail kisses along his jaw. He utters a low, soft groan, a noise you won’t ever get tired of hearing.

"Myshka," Piotr groaned softly again making you smile gripping your hips as you ground your hips into his. You hummed quietly into his neck savoring his warm touches roam over your figure.

His touches continued roaming over your burning skin squeezing and lightly pinching at your plump figure. It seemed almost impossible for this giant man to be a gentle as he was, constantly leaving you breathless. Feeling Piotr's hands dart up the side of your thighs, shooting under your shirt gripping your thick waist pulling you impossibly closer your lightly exposed chest flush against his own cold but warm naked chest causing your small peaks beneath your clothing. Your arms loop around Piotr's thick neck, one of his hands planted firmly on your breast as his eyes watching with gentle lust as you gasp in pleasure feeling his hand graze over your erected pacifier.

"I want you myshka, so very much." He breathes, his voice thick and warm as it puffs against our neck, making you shiver. "Mm, I want you to sugar." You hum feeling his large stiff erection being pushed against your soaked, clothed sex.

"Moya zhena let me take care of you," He says as he flips you over to your back, leaving open mouth kisses between your breasts as he unbuttons your shirt you stole from him, leading down to your thighs. keeping his eyes pinned on you the entire time watching you squirm, heat raging in your core as his lips trail up your inner thigh. You shove yourself to your elbows, unable to back a moan as he nips at your inner thigh watching his slow but steady movements. His hands slide up your legs and his fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear, which he promptly tugs down you as you shift and wiggle your hips to help him get them off. After successfully getting off your panties you couldn't help whine softly, as Piotr slide his thick tongue between your wet folds.

Piotr focuses on you as he runs his tongue up your slick, blazing core, making you gasp. He smiles and lets his hands curl around your thighs hiking them up and plant them on his shoulders, giving him further access to lap at your needy cunt. His lips sealed over your clit making whine loudly at the tear of pleasure rushing through you. He knows exactly what to do to get you to melt under his touch.

"Piotr -" You gasp as his tongue probes deeper into you another moan leaving your lips. He smirked between you legs enjoying the noises spilling from your lips he knew he was driving you crazy with the way he was gradually lapping your aching cunt. Every squeak, moan, and pant of his name drove him wild, you could tell by the way his grip around your thick thighs tightens from hearing your sweet sounds. Guiding you to your orgasm with each gentle stroke of his tongue relishing the taste of you, Piotr groans into your core sending you over the edge, your back arching off the bed, moaning his name losing yourself in mind-numbing pleasure while his lips latch onto your little bundle of nerves, sucking gently as you ride out your orgasm.

Gasping and puffing, dizzy with delight, "Fuck." You gasp craning your head up giving him a soft smile which he returns. "That was beautiful myshka," He compliments as he kisses his way back up your body, trailing open mouth kisses on your belly, leading up between your breasts. Your hands run up his arms, resting on his shoulders as he towers over you; you whine softly as he runs the tip of his length over your slit, slowly pushing the tip of his cock you groan feeling your walls stretch deliciously as he sheaths himself deeply in you. Your hands instinctively clutch around his shoulders as he rests his head on yours. "That's it, love," You say breathlessly encouraging him, pressing your lips against his neck. "You can move baby, please." You say with need, "You feel wonderful dorogaya" He groans feeling your tight walls squeeze him lightly as he gently rocks into you only to slip out of you completely then slowly pushing back in making you whimper out in pleasure, pushing your plush figure into the mattress below you as he fucks you passionately.  

His head is buried against your neck, one of his hands grasps at your thighs and spreads it to allow him more access, while the other lightly grips at the side of your waist. His body brushing against yours over, and, over again as he gentle buries himself deep in you. Your mind fogged over with pure pleasure and delight as you felt yourself start to peak as you pull him closer to you.

"Come for me, moya solnechnyy svet." He mumbles into your ear sending you over the edge, moaning against his neck, howling out his name as another wave of pleasure washes over you leaving you trembling mess. "Pete- Piotr- darling- my love-." You whisper into his ear in between his loving thrusts, "Come for me." You breathe mixing in with soft squeaks of pleasure. Running your hands down his broad back and showering his face in kisses sending him into his own pleasurable high, spilling into you with a hearty groan.

The rain continued to fall, filling the room with a calming atmosphere. As Piotr finished cleaning you up, he climbed back into bed pulling your naked body into his own. Neither of you wanted to leave the bed, neither of you wants to leave each other's brace, just wanting to spend the rest of your lives just like this right here beside each other. It almost felt like a dream, blissfully sweet and endearing. It felt like the entire world had vanished leaving just the two of you, never having to deal with the rest of the world. Safe in each other's arms where no one could hurt you. "I love you, Piotr." You whisper as you cuddle into his arms, "I love you too moya lyubov," Piotr whispered before kissing your nose as you dozed off in his arms.

[kittae]

Sleepy, Needy, Greedy (M)

⤞ When a simple case of morning wood proves to be much more difficult to get rid of than anticipated!

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Jackson x reader

Genre: just plain smut, you have been warned!

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings: rated M, graphic sexual descriptions

A/N: okay wow this took me FOREVER to finish but here it is, at last! I hope you’ll enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it ;)

5am had already passed, the first rays of sunlight shyly started to beam through your window and the soft swell in the thin and transparant curtains. They danced on your floor and sheets, occasionally throwing a soft gleam on your face. But that wasn’t the reason your eyes slowly started fluttering open, gently pulling you out of your deep slumber and getting used to the blurry sight of your bedroom.

No, the reason why you'd slipped out of your dream was because you felt like you had tumbled into another one. Soft lips ghosting over your ear and neck, gentle fingers squeezing into your hip and brushing over your waist, but most of all, something very distinct and hard digging into your lower back. That could only mean one thing.

“Jackson…” you faintly croaked out, your voice still heavy with sleep and balancing on the edge between a whimper and a whine.

You felt that same pair of lips turning to peck soft kisses on your neck, nipping at the small spot beneath your ear before the tip of a nose soothed the slight red mark they left behind, your head automatically tilting towards the opposite side to grant them better access as you quietly mewled at the entrancing feeling, a ticklish sensation stirring in your stomach and goosebumps scattering all over your skin.

“You smell so good…” a voice you knew like the back of your hand, laced with want and undeniable adoration in an airy moan, sounded from behind you, muffled into the nape of your neck as two strong arms pulled you closer in a tight embrace with your back against a hot, broad chest.

A spark of excitement briefly shot through your still benumbed body at the sound, aiming straight south and making you shiver lightly, taking you aback when all you could do was gasp as those very lips found the sensitive area beneath your ear again, the gentle kiss swiftly growing harsher when they started sucking until hues of red and purple shallowly surfaced.

You accepted the lightheadedness, not sure if you were still just half asleep or getting really affected by your boyfriend’s soft lips working their way around your tingling skin.

“Mmm…So early…” you murmured as a way of scolding him for waking you up so early in the morning, but quite sure it missed its effect by the way your voice gave away the obvious pleasure you were getting out of his ministrations.

You felt him smile against your neck as his hand moved from your waist to descend further south until it was squeezed inbetween your legs and his fingers started kneading the inside of your naked thigh, softly pinching your flesh and making you jerk up in suprise.

“Sorry, baby…Morning wood has no curfew,” he emphasized his neediness by lightly grinding his hips against your ass, a soft groan escaping his lips when his bulging erection touched your soft buttcheecks, biting his bottom lip as he squeezed your thigh once more, “So fucking hard, baby…”

You were heating up, the temperature rising at a ridiculously fast rate when his hand slid further up your inner thigh until it was resting against your hot center, his fingers brushing over the thin fabric of your panties every time he massaged your flesh as it sent sparks of electricity through your entire core. He certainly made it hard to ignore him and go back to sleep.

“So fucking sleepy, baby,” you echoed, playfully pushing your ass back against his crotch and hearing him groan in your ear in response, a smile appearing on your lips.

He whined pitifully, feeling him pout against your cheek as he cupped your heat with his hand in an attempt to win you over, persuading you with gentle kisses on your jaw.

“You don’t have to do anything, i promise…Just spread your legs a little? Please? I’ll do all the work...” he started bargaining, the desperation in his voice slightly rising, his arousal straining against your ass and through his sweatpants while he tried his best not to furiously dryhump you and the tips of his fingers drew mindless patterns into the fabric that kept his skin from touching yours.

Trying really hard not to let a moan slip from your lips, you tightly pressed them together in a smile before steadying your voice, "What are you offering?"

Despite your hard-to-get attitude, you couldn’t deny how you felt yourself starting to throb between your legs, your panties already damp from just a bit of friction and his needy words, his heavy breathing against your skin. When you hissed in pleasure as he ran a single finger over your clothed slit, having you melt into his touch, you knew he knew it too.

“Everything,” he answered simply, the huskiness in his deep morning voice translating into a delicious shiver surging down your spine and straight to your core. Great, another language he proved to be fluent in.

You bit your lip so you wouldn’t full out grin from ear to ear like some kind of idiot, but angled your body further into his regardless. He wasn’t lying in any case, he was so hard it made your mouth water and your throat dry all the same. His erection felt like a solid rock, making it impossible to think about anything else than having it buried deep inside of you and how good he could make you feel with it. You'd just wanted to sleep in on a sunday morning, but all hopes of going back to sleep were pretty much thrown out of the window by now.

“I’m gonna need some deets, boy,” your voice airy as you sighed the words out, rocking your hips back once more to get the desired effect of a low groan from the back of his throat, before he lightly chuckled and caged you inside his tight embrace, the movements of his hips growing bolder at your playfulness.

“Look at you, just barely awake and already trying to get some dirty talk out of your poor, innocent boyfriend…Aren't you a naughty girl?”

“How can you call yourself innocent with your hand squeezed inbetween my legs and your dick grinding against my ass?” you retorted, though you couldn’t hide the smile in your voice.

“Look, i tried to have a civilized conversation with it, but it proved to be very persistent,” he sighed out as if he was a man at the end of his rope.

“Oh, is that right? Persistent, huh?”

“Yeah…Maybe you can talk to it, it might listen to you.”

You couldn’t believe you were having this conversation at barely six in the morning, but then again, with Jackson as your significant other, did you really expect anything else? It took every little ounce of your strength not to just burst out in laughter.

“I don’t know, baby, it’s being pretty rude right now…”

“I know, right? No manners at all, you should really teach it a lesson,” his voice still flirty but strained as he added some force to his words by grinding his hips extra hard, a moan tumbling from his lips before he could help himself.

Your soft giggles quickly got silenced when you gasped as your boyfriend’s hand finally snaked into your thin underwear, his fingers gently pinching your naked clit and nearly having you moan out in pleasure, but you wouldn’t give yourself away that easily. Not yet.

You tried to play the game a bit longer, even though his digits circling your sensitive nub got you melting into the mattress, your breathing stealthily getting shallower by the second as you chuckled, ‘And how would i go about doing that?’

“You’re always so good with your mouth, i’m sure you’ll come up with something to catch its attention…” he quipped, awfully pleased with himself.

That little shit.

“Well…It already looks like it’s at full attention to me,” you wanted to laugh but the heat building up in the pit of your stomach keeping you from doing so, overthrowing anything other than the pleasure surging through your body, small and stifled whimpers pushed back in your throat and aching to be heard.

“If you’re gonna be mouthy like that, at least let me benefit from it.”

“Maybe you should stop talking about your dick and start using it.”

He chuckled into your ear, a slightly sharper pinch around your clit coaxing a high pitched yelp out of you, your hips rocking back to escape his fingers that caused a short but intense electric shock to surge through your nerves.

Peppering kisses along your neck again, he whispered, “What if i do both?”

“Even better.”

The words hadn't even passed your curled up lips and his fingers were already hooked around the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down. You'd think he was teasing you if you didn't know any better. He was too hot-headed, too eager. And you loved every tiny bit of it.

“Love your thighs so much, baby...Wanna feel them squeeze around me,” he murmured through lazy pecks on your neck, his other hand slipping underneath your top to cup your breast, feeling him snuggle even closer against you to envelop himself inside your warmth. Your skin was radiating heat, even more so when he kept caressing you like this.

“Use them,” Your breathing got heavier with every roll of his fingers around your stiffened nipple, every gentle stroke over your bare sex as your soaked through underwear hung loosely around your thighs, pressing them together tightly as you desperately sought some much needed friction, “Jackson, please...”

He wasted no time tearing the nightstand drawer open to hastily fumble around and find the small bottle of lube inside, squirting a generous amount into his hands he frantically rubbed together to make sure it wasn't too cold before he curled them around his throbbing shaft, hissing at the sensitivity when he carefully spread the liquid around his skin to make it nice and slick.

“Fuck, it's been a while since we've done this...” he choked out when he tried to calm his body down so he wouldn't blow his load right then and there, just from sheer excitement.

You could feel your heart pound in your throat when he positioned himself back behind you, one hand curling around your thigh and slightly raising it while the other came from the opposite side to find its way back to your dripping heat. You felt something hard and wet sliding inbetween your thighs and you automatically flexed them, successfully creating a delicious tightness around his girth that had him tensing up against you in response, his fingers toying with your little nub as he tried to adjust to all kinds of enticing sensations surging through his body.

“So tight...Oh god...” you felt him pant into the nape of your neck, a sheen of sweat already coating his forehead and dampening the strands of hair that sticked to his hot skin.

He slowly started thrusting, the large amount of lubrication making it very easy for him to slide back and forth as your thighs enveloped his length in all the best ways and your wet folds brushed over it, adding more delicious friction than he could possibly handle. As he religiously kept stimulating your clit, you felt the tension build in your stomach as well, your arousal trickling down and directly coating his dick in your juices as it brushed through your lower lips.

The movements of his fingers went frenetic on your by now overly sensitive bundle of nerves, the pressure on the perfect spots and the speed having stars explode behind your eyelids while your mind went blank as he snapped his hips back and forth. Countless whimpers and whines tumbled from his lips while his fingers around your thigh dug into your flesh when he neared his release, fingernails leaving crescents behind on your skin, but it only heightened the pleasure you already received from hearing your man getting himself off between your thighs and his hand doing wondrous things to your little nub.

“C-close!” he breathed heavily against your skin, lightly biting your shoulder as he desperately tried to keep his moans to a limit but failed terribly, and his hips picked up speed until skin slapping on skin subdued all other sounds in the room, the fire that was climbing up from your core to your stomach blazing hot as you heard him pant wildly, chasing his much needed climax with all the energy he could muster.

“Not-not yet, Jackson! Wait!” you begged him when you could feel the muscles in your thigh starting to get sore from keeping them tight, but the heat building up in the pit of your stomach drew out the discomfort as you equally as desperately sought your own release that was looming around the corner, your toes already curling and your back arching. You could easily come with him if he'd hold on for just a few more seconds-

“I c-can't! I'm coming, i'm so- i'm sor-” he gasped and shuddered when his thrusts slowed down and his grip around your thigh tightened almost painfully when he couldn't hold back any longer, spurting load after load of his hot release all over your thighs and the sheets and his hand as he let out a strained groan, “Fuck!”

You were breathing superficially, the pheromones still running through your body at full speed and your arousal still dripping from your now neglected slit. But not for long.

With his head still spinning from the explosive orgasm and the blood rapidly rushing back up, he shifted behind you to lay you on your back, get on top of you and start kissing your neck again, his chest also still heaving violently to catch his breath while he did.

“Jackson, you should- y-you should rest for a sec, you're-” you stuttered inbetween gasps and mewls when he ignored your words and continued his mouth's journey down your body, stopping to nip at your perky nipples to lave his tongue around them before going further south.

He massaged the insides of your thighs again, knowing how straining it must've been to keep them flexed for him the whole time and trying to soothe your sore muscles before kissing his way up there as well, only positioning them on top of his shoulders when he'd reached the place you needed his mouth the most right now. The way his eyes gazed up at you from underneath had you momentarily forgetting what breathing was, a fiery blush spreading across your cheeks when you saw the look in his eyes darken and making you salivate.

“You're so beautiful,” he murmured, letting his eyes flutter closed as his lips softly ghosted over your soaking center before snapping them back up to watch you purse your lips together in anticipation, your hands gripping the sheets beside you to try and release some of the tension building up inside your body until he added a greasy wink when he whispered, “Relax for me, baby...Let me take care of you now.”

He dove right in, wasting no time on teasing while your body was still running on your previous build-up he was determined to make use of. The fire that had slowly started to sizzle out flared back up the moment his lips molded themselves into your lower ones, his tongue curling around your little nub where his fingers previously had rubbed so vigorously. He didn't start slow and delicate like he normally does, as he was determined to pick up where he'd left off to make you come as fast and as hard as possible.

It certainly helped that he knew all the right buttons to push, having spent countless hours between your legs to explore everything you did and didn't like. The way he knew which specific spot to put pressure on with his tongue, which particular angle he should curl his fingers up inside of you and how the combination of both could make you fall apart underneath him in mere seconds. And it looked like he was about to succeed yet again.

“Oh, fuck! Jackson!” you couldn't help but loudly squeak out when two of his fingers easily slid between your folds to prod at your sweet spot right away, your hands flying into his hair to tightly grip onto it. He sure wasn't beating around the bush this time.

He moaned against your core, the delightful shots of slight pain shooting through his scalp only motivating him further as he felt himself getting hard all over again. His fingers kept a steady rhythm while they massaged your inner walls, hitting all the right places without missing a beat while his tongue slaved away to keep stimulating your hypersensitive clit. You sure weren't going to last long either this time.

A string of moans and curses cascaded from your lips when you couldn't help but grind yourself against his mouth, your hips desperately chasing your release as you tugged on his hair even harder the closer you got, which did not go unnoticed.

There was a brief second you didn't know what was going on when you got lifted up in the air for a second, until you saw your boyfriend's face peeking out from between your legs underneath  you, but this time he was the one lying on his back.

“Ride my face, baby, hurry,” he panted before pulling you down by your hips until your nub sat snugly on his mouth so he could start sucking again.

His tongue focused on tantalizing your poor clit that could barely keep up with the never ending supply of electrifying sensations, every nerve in your body feeling like they were getting fried with pleasure and you didn't know whether you wanted to pull away in oversensitivity or violently ride his face until you exploded.

Your body chose for you when your hips rolled over his face,the cue for Jackson to keep his tongue flat for you to use it as you pleased as you angled your body to control the right pressure at the right places. You grabbed onto his hair once more, knowing the effect it has on him and sure enough, his fingers dug into your hips so hard you were positive they'd leave bruises soon. You loved how you could rile him up so far he couldn't control himself, and vice versa.

“Jackson, i'm- i'm so c-close!” you whimpered helplessly, grinding your clit against his tongue even harder to make this ridiculous tension that had built into the pit of your stomach finally snap as he helped you by moaning with you, sending vibrations to surge through your nerves as well until your eyelids fluttered closed as you held your breath. Your head was thrown back and your back arched when your hips stopped grinding back and forth while the heat rapidly shot through your trembling body, up to your cheeks, burning hot and red as your mouth fell open in a strangled cry.

He dutifully helped you riding out your intense orgasm by slowly, softly licking you through it and having you shudder in overstimulation. He hummed at your taste, one he couldn't get enough of and that was so deliciously, distinctively you.

You pulled away after an undefined period of pure bliss, right when the pleasure started to turn almost painful, and shuffled back down to let your utterly relaxed and temporarily exhausted body rest on top of him.

“I'm so sweaty,” he chuckled into your hair before placing a kiss on the crest of your head and joining you in catching your breath.

“Me too,” you smiled, still basking in afterglow as he caressed your back, his fingertips gently brushing over your damp skin.

“Let's get cleaned up?” he proposed, playfully pinching your shoulder and making you jerk up in surprise, giggling. until you noticed something hard poking on the inside of your thigh again.

“You mean 'how about round two in the shower?', don't you?” you retorted, watching him through slitted eyes in suspicion and making him dramatically gasp in indignation.

“Well, i would never! But now you mention it...”

You rolled your eyes at his feigned innocence once again, but you couldn't deny it was one of the very reasons you loved him so much.

“You're so greedy!” you chuckled as you ruffled his already tousled hair, him smiling up at you while wrapping his arms around your body, slowly pushing up the Tshirt you were still wearing.

“Nah...Just really needy...” he added softly while pulling you into a compelling kiss, his fingers still playing with the hem of your shirt when his lips touched yours, the taste of your release still slightly lingering on the pink skin when he slipped his tongue past yours.

It was almost embarrassing how easily he could ignite a spark in your chest as well as between your legs, even after you'd only just had an explosive orgasm. His need started to rub off on you and you found yourself wanting more just as much as he did. Especially with how perfectly his lips fit on yours while your tongues wrapped themselves around eachother and your hands started groping any part of your bodies they could find.

Small whines and whimpers started rolling off both your entangled tongues once again, and Jackson couldn't wait any longer to grab you by the back of your thighs and sit up, having you wrap your legs around his waist before he carried you to the bathroom, you lips never losing contact as you continued to devour eachother.

He carefully sat you down on the countertop, briefly disconnecting your lips to pull the shirt over your head before hungrily seeking your kisses again. As you got back down on your feet, you both shuffled your way into the shower cabine, still refusing to let go of each other's lips until the hot water was streaming down your naked bodies.

Jackson was the first one to hesitantly pull away, gently backing you against the cold tiles of the wall. The frigid stones against your back felt nice in contrast with your burning body, the way he looked at you with so much adoration and lust in his eyes making it harder to breathe, especially when he cupped your face in his hands so you'd be focused on his piercing gaze, wet strands of hair randomly sticking out in every direction after he'd roughly brushed it back.

“I love you so fucking much,” he said slowly, but resolute. No hint of playfulness or jokes to be found in the dark chocolate of his eyes, only pure determination. He didn't just want you to know, he wanted you to feel it.

You were just about ready to melt into a puddle, but managed to whisper out that you loved him too before his lips crashed on yours again. Your hands slid up and down his toned torso, your fingers feeling up his defined pecs and down to his abs, where you stopped to play with the happy trail that ran right above his newly revived erection. You didn't hesitate to wrap your hand around the base, slowly curling your fingers around his slick skin and running your thumb over his leaking head. He sharply sucked in a gasp at your bold action, hanging his head down and seeking support by placing his hand next to your head on the wall and resting his forehead against your own as he steadied his breathing when you quickened your pace around his length.

“Babe, slow down,”' he chuckled inbetween gasps and adorable whimpers as he screwed his eyes shut in an attempt to somehow process all those overwhelmingly pleasurable sparks surging through his nerves better, 'I'm going crazy here!'

You couldn't take your eyes off of the way his eyelashes fluttered like a butterfly's wings, the way his jaw slacked when his lips fell open into silent, or not so silent, moans, how radiant his golden skin was and how utterly ethereal he looked with droplets gathering at the ends of his dark hair and streaming down his cheeks and lips. He was so handsome you could cry.

“Jackson...” you breathed, your hand letting him go to wrap your arms around his waist and pull him closer until you were skin on skin, your lips brushing over his neck, “I need you.”

He certainly didn't need to be told twice. The moment the words left your lips, your leg was hoisted up on his hip and his tip was positioned at your center before he slowly started to push further, letting your tight walls suck him in inch by inch as he clenched his teeth together in restraint so he wouldn't plunge himself balls deep in one well-aimed thrust.

The angle wasn't ideal, but you couldn't care about that when you felt how he filled you up so good as he was sheathed so perfectly inside of you.

“F-fuck, baby...”, he whimpered and pulled you closer to him as he waited for you to adjust to his size so he could start moving.

You needed a few deep breaths before you nodded, giving him the signal it was okay to continue. He started off with slow and leisure movements, gently swaying his hips back and forth a little, and gradually picking up speed when you started moaning until he was driving himself into you at a frantic speed, your leg getting pulled up higher and higher as he kept thrusting deeper until your eyes rolled back in pure ecstasy. He brought his hand between your bodies to find your little bundle of nerves back, letting it roll between two of his fingers and making you cry out when it added just what you needed on top of the blissful feeling of his length thrusting up into you and stretching your walls.

“D-don't stop, Jackson, i'm- i'm gonna-!” you moaned desperately, your fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders as the tight knot in the pit of your stomach threatened to snap at any given moment as you felt the heat consume every fiber in your body.

“It's okay, baby, l-let it go!” he encouraged you, peppering your face with hot kisses and with a last pinch around your clit, had you coming undone in his hands.

He held you tightly as he kissed you while you were falling apart, your limbs might as well have been pudding when he kept rubbing your little nub until you properly rode it out, your whimpers and cries muffled by his lips when he eagerly swallowed down the sinful sounds that rolled of yours.

Picking you up before letting himself slide down the wall, he sat himself down to have you sit in his lap, allowing you to transform into a sac of potatoes as you caught your breath in his arms, pecking soothing kisses on your face and shoulder until you'd come down from your second high that morning.

“You're so exhausting,” you whined, but couldn't suppress the grin spreading across your face in happiness and satisfaction.

“Yeah, i've heard that before,” he laughed before attacking your lips with his once more in a quick peck.

“I'm the only one who finished, though,” you remarked, feeling how he was still hard underneath you and already reaching for it again, “Let me -”

“Shhh, easy, tiger,” a finger on your lips silencing you before you could utter another word, 'We have the whole day ahead of us. It's not even eight yet!'

You watched him wiggle his eyebrows in that suggestive manner and realized to both your horror and delight it was indeed only early in the morning, and by the way he looked at you, you knew he had a whole lot more in store for you.

“It's gonna be one of those days again, isn't it?” you sighed dramatically, but the corner of your lips curled up nevertheless.

“You bet your gorgeous, sweet ass it will!” he quipped, adding a playful spank on one of your buttcheeks to emphasize his words, 'Now, let's get cleaned up for real this time so we can have breakfast.'

“Cheater, you’ve already had breakfast,” you winked suggestively.

“It's okay, it was organic.”

[zeebartels]

First & most importantly –

All my love and thanks to my family, who know how much/little to check in on me and not ask too many/too few questions – DeeDee, Tins, Curtis, Manon, Chants, Casey

Zain – for being my hospital Saviour and just my favourite Pakistani ever! Chad – for trying your best to lie to the parents when KB ask the 2 questions you weren’t allowed to answer truthfully – that is what cousins are for. KB – you are my heroin and without knowing it guided me through this – WWKBD!

Elisha + Nico – for being the best big Sister + Brother a girl could need. There are no words to express how much I love you and appreciate you. Sis! looks like I will live to meet yuh man and you are the best secret keeper.

And, The NHS for existing [you can take all the National Insurance you want from me], King’s College Hospital & my multi-disciplinary team of docs for being absolute stars and sorting me out real quick.

So… it’s been a fucking mad end of this year.

I hate this time of year, it’s never felt happy or joyous and honestly I just see the loneliness in the world in this ‘festive’ season, and now compounded by the loss of my father on Boxing Day 2013 – this time of year I’m always thinking – where is the highest mountain or deepest hidey hole I can find until this is all over. But I think this year has taken the cake!

So I had this cough since end of July, no biggie – it’s a cough.

In October, I was inexplicably breathless speed walking to the boarding gate in Amsterdam with Court.

November 19th, I had the craziest fever – trying to sleep, laying naked in my living room with my windows and sliding doors open in the middle of winter and I still felt I was in Trinidad in midday hot sun.

Chaddy boy came over the next day and seeing I couldn’t say one word without having to catch my breath – emergency doctor’s appointment became mandatory. Now I am the worst patien if I can walk and not screaming in pain – I good, dancer habits die hard. So you know shit was real at this point.

Doc Wedgwood tells me to go directly to A&E 1st thing in the morning, She means – DO NOT pass go, DO NOT collect £200 [which would have been damn handy seeing I just quit my 2nd job for the year on Halloween – that’s another story though].

Of course, I was like “listen, give me some drugs so I stop this violent coughing business and could breathe cause I have a job interview tomorrow that not only do I really want to go to but shit! I need to be able to pay rent in 2018 and there is nothing that will make me move from the best flat in the world.”

We had a bit of a back and forth and this woman was not playing but no chest infection is going to affect my plan. Cue – an interview reschedule and I head to King’s College Hospital bright and early the next morning.

Give some blood and x-ray my chest. Then @ 8:50am the lovely good looking Isiah made everything a little more concerning. He asked me to stick around and started asking me a bunch of questions and after trying to be slick, I got him to eventually admit to me that, “My Chest X-ray is concerning, and I need to go to my GP 1st thing tomorrow to discuss the results”

Fuck me! So not a straightforward​ chest x-ray, not a simple case of a really bad chest infection. But you know I’m on a mission, cause I can’t tell my mother I quit another job this year without having sorted another, so I have interviews to get my ass too​.

Fast Forward to that afternoon, and my Doc Wedgwood left 2 voicemails and emailed me about my early morning results appointment – slight panic set in, so I called in the reinforcements for this appointment – enter Nicholai from Stage Right.

So much changed in a couple sentences that Wednesday morning.

“Your chest x-ray isn’t good. We have to do more tests to fully diagnose, but it’s 1 of 3 things –

Lung cancer [WTF?!?!], Lymphoma [this woman crazy!?!?] or Sarcoidosis [I know she crazy cause only people on House or Greys’ Anatomy have that, and those are TV shows].

Your heart rate is 160 – it’s working too hard and your lymph nodes are inflamed around 400%”

If Nico didn’t say respond – I woulda tell you – that was the most vivid dream I ever had. My Big Brother [as he introduced himself to Doc Wedgwood] asked the sensible questions. I said – how the hell do I tell my mother & sister?!!?

The Bartels Soldier surfaced [I am the child of KB – the Original Gangster] and I needed to make a plan. I started my “I’m dying” folder in my Notes.

What needs doing…

What are the next steps to diagnosis?

Who needs to or should know?

Do I change my pension beneficiaries from my Godchildren​ to my mother and sister [the original plan of them being gone by the time I die may not be the same]?

If it’s a cancer – do I do the fucked up chemo thing or just make sure I enjoy the rest of my time?

Sweet! I lost 10lbs in 2 weeks and I didn’t even make an effort – this could definitely be a good thing!!

Who needs access to my business if shit goes downhill from here.

Answers…

Kings’ College Chest Clinic will call me with my next appointments and instructions

Nico [he was there], Elisha [she’s my person], Chaddy [he knows something is up]. KB + the rest will know when I know what is what

Diagnosis 1st then change beneficiaries if need be

Stage 1 – we will try ah ting & KB will have to come and mind her chile in London. Late Stage 2 and beyond – I’mma just ride this out and see what happens

I have 50lbs I need to lose and hate exercising so this is a real good thing & I’m going to ride this train as much as I can [so far -20lbs + counting in the last month]

Elisha – all of it. Nico – my hospital details.

  So here is what followed:

My symptoms got worse –

I can’t walk 1 flight of stairs without being winded, I have to plan all my journeys around tube stations that have escalators and leave enough time to catch my breath before I have to speak to someone. And keep those to a bare minimum

Talking too much is difficult – not a problem for me, I’m not the biggest fan of people

Eating is tiring and takes my breath away – so most things become blended, good thing I had a bunch of already made frozen soup

I have violent coughing episodes that make anyone in my vicinity think I’m dying from the plague – They just gonna have to deal with that

My ribs are sore from all the coughing, so inhaling is painful

No matter how much water I drink (we are talking 3-4 litres a day) I still wake up at least 4 times every night coughing because my throat is so dry

I started sleeping on top of towels so my bed doesn’t get soaked from my night sweats

I decided on a hospital uniform – my fav GAP grey sweatpants & large quilted super cosy GAP jumper & NikexLiberty Air Max 90’s

Another 3 blood tests – 1 of which I had to tell a very fass phlebotomist about herself and that I do not need a husband nor define myself by the presence of a man & I still don’t know my blood type

A CT Scan – Yes you really do feel like you’ve pee’d yourself in your swimsuit and that cosy warmth stays with you for a couple seconds

A result appointments that only said more tests to come – Doc Turner didn’t seem too​ impressed to hear about my “I’m Dying” folder and whatever other snarky comments I  made

A bronchoscopy – My body was not happy about the invasion and started bucking like I was possessed and thus a punctured lung (more Grey’s Anatomy​y drama), I woke up, or more specifically, regained memory whilst in mid sentence to the nurse.

A week later – I found a bunch of druggie selfies and pics of bloody liquids [I assume came from me], and videos of my canula removal – no memory performing these actions and I doubt the nurse used my phone.

A PET Scan – preceded by a semi breakdown in the waiting room, it kicked off because they go my appointment times wrong, I was real tired and it was my 2nd day of fasting for a procedure. So a very unhappy Zara came to visit shouting for my doctor and threatening to start breaking things led to a coughing episode and was completed by my pee-ing myself while I’m trying to cuss them about their time fuck up. Eventually – they made me radioactive and I went home to my bed.

Ended that day with my cancelling an interview, receiving confirmation of 2 different job offers coming to my inbox within the next couple day and a late evening voicemail from Doc Turner “It’s good news – all things considered. I’ll see you on Monday and we’ll discuss treatment and long-term”

Well thank fuck for that! At least I don’t have to inject my self with poison. I can deal with that – and I can tell KB.

Monday 18th December – Final results appointment + diagnosis =

CONGRATULATIONS!! You’re a winner!!!

You only have a rare autoimmune disease that we don’t know much about but we can give you mood altering weight gaining steroids for symptoms but not much else. We don’t know what causes it, your symptoms can disappear as quickly as they appeared and never reappear, or you could get lung damage. You’ll have to come to the hospital once a month for a full workup.

BTW – how are your eyes feeling? Tired? Warm? Cause this could affect your eyes and your brain too.

Sarcoidosis is now your long time companion.

Gee! Thanks Doc Turner – you’re my hero.

Everything was made right literally in one afternoon, an afternoon where I felt so shitty, couldn’t catch my breath, breathing was painful and my constant coughing made me want to die.

I get to call my mother and tell her – it kinda went like this

[Me -ZB] Hey KB, so I have something to tell you. I quit my job on Halloween… [KB] Oh Shit man Zara! That was 2 months ago [ZB] yeah but I just had 2 offer conversations with 2 companies & I’ll decide on one of them later today, so the job situ is in hand. [KB] mmm hmmm [ZB] Annnnddd, I was being tested for Lung Cancer, Lymphoma & Sarcoidosis, but I only have Sarcoidosis. The best of the 3. [KB] What you saying? [ZB] {Long version as above} [KB] OK, well good thing you there and not here. You are my special child. First it’s your special mouth disease [that is another story – missing some jaw bone]

Ma asked some really good questions and we lime for a lil while on the Skype.

Hardest part done – So now, we sort shit out.

The job is decided on, I’m now the Head of People for a Games Company.

New Meds –

Getting my steroids via inhaler – straight to the lungs, minimise the side effects of steroids in the blood. I know the steroids would have given me a real reason to be fat but the mood swing business, I wasn’t really in the mood for nah!

More Codeine = more constipation – so increase on the prunes and keep on with the greens.

True Story – I’ve been on some form of codeine for the last month – A couple weeks ago, I’m sitting on my toilet for 20 minutes, my legs are numb and I’m crying with frustration cause really I’m a 36 yr old constipated woman, and all I want is for this shit to no longer be a turtle and become a drowned log. I have a coughing episode and all that shit comes barrelling out! The biggest most literal F-ough (fart+cough) that ever existed!! 

So now it’s the road to getting right, I have to be a bridesmaid in Court’s wedding and I’ve got 3 months to be able to breathe while I walk down her aisle.

I’m thrilled that I don’t have to tell my mother + sister that I have cancer at the same time of year we found out and lost my father to cancer.

I get to be on a special list for people with Special Diseases. I call it “exotic”.

I’ll lose the next 30lbs probably without much annoying exercise simply because I have to cut out all inflammatory foods and my body seems to be on that trajectory, once the vaporise steroids don’t get in the way.

And I get to learn more about this odd disease and I won’t be receiving a ridiculous hospital bill.

Everyone is now caught up and I wish you all a brilliant year and all the good things.

2018 is setting up to be a smash hit! I’m pretty excited.

Walk good

xoxo.​

I am a patient on House + Greys’ Anatomy First & most importantly - All my love and thanks to my family, who know how much/little to check in on me and not ask too many/too few questions - DeeDee, Tins, Curtis, Manon, Chants, Casey…