#ANYWAYS FERAL BARKING OVER THIS

[gluskincasual]

Vanquish & Aywin for @foxieflower

[jujutsustraycats]

EPISODE 8 MADE UP FOR PREV CRITICISM SO GOOD, I CAN'T– LITERALLY KICKING MY LEGS RN

[tojisun]

currently obsessed with biker!simon!!!! how do you think he and reader met? i think, whatever the situation was, he was the one that couldn't get his eyes off her and started to bluntly stare??? maybe soap was with him and laughed bc he had never saw him get this serious about any girl he had laid his eyes on 😫😫😫😫

BAE I WENT FERAL WHEN I READ THIS BECAUSE YEAH!!! YEAH

ok so this is gonna be ridiculous but bear with me because im actually so obsessed with biker!simon im unwell

simon prefers using his bike whenever he’s out with his friends. there’s no use taking his car, anyway. not with kyle hitching a ride with john, and johnny taking his own car on the few occasions that he does bring someone home with him.

simon’s never had to take those things into account because he preferred a quiet end to his nights, anyway. just a shot of bourbon and a short dinner with his friends, and then he’s back on the road and on his way home.

so he’s never had regrets with taking his bike. until today, of course.

he’s noticed you since you walked into the bar with your friends, your arm hooked around one of them and your head tilted to hear them better. the others who are not engaged in a discussion with you whipped their heads around to find an empty booth and simon almost crushed his glass at the way his heart leapt when he realized that the closest empty booth in the place was the one directly beside his group’s. 

simon watched as your group moved closer, the chatter finally piercing his ears and, unconsciously, his body turned to hear you better. from in front of him, johnny’s pinched lips finally wobbled as he wheezed out a laugh, breaking simon’s focus.

“what?” simon barked out, feeling warmth creep up from his neck to his ears, half of his mind focused on the group settling behind him. 

“holy shit,” johnny said mid-laughter. “you don’t know anythin’ about subtlety.”

simon grumbled then, in denial, but now he just fully stopped caring.

somehow, as the night progressed, simon gravitated towards the seat facing yours, a spot where he had a clear vantage view of you. he’s taken advantage of the change in seating, devouring the sight you make as you giggled with your friends. devouring the change in atmosphere, now that you’ve begun to return his heated looks.

it started with curious looks, born from your friend whispering to you how simon was staring; how, throughout the night, he did not entertain all those who went up beside him and focused only on you. then your gaze shifted into something scalding. something that sent liquid fire warming simon from the pit of his stomach to the back of his spine.

mactavish sighs beside him. “just buy the lass a drink already.”

simon peels his eyes away from you to look at johnny, mulling over the suggestion before grunting out a thanks. he stands up and walks to the bar, calling out to get the bartender’s attention.

remembering the bellini that you’ve been nursing since you got here, simon asks for another flute of the cocktail and requests that it be served to you. he turns when he says this, hoping to give the bartender a clear view of who the bellini is for only to blink in surprise when he sees you standing just a few feet away from him.

“sir?” the man behind the counter asks.

“sorry. just serve it here,” simon replies, his eyes still on you. there is shuffling behind him, the bartender probably leaving to whip up his order, but simon honestly doesn’t care anymore.

not when you finally shuffle close, a shy smile dancing on your lips.

“hello,” you greet, voice a hesitant whisper, and simon feels like he’s been gutted.

you’re so goddamn beautiful, it’s catastrophic. 

simon thinks of how short you are, something he’s first noticed the moment you walked into the bar. it’s not like he’s surprised by the realization given that he tends to tower over anyone ever since he hit his growth spurt, but there is something unfurling in the pit of his stomach as he realizes how perfectly you fit in his arms. how easy it would be to just tuck you underneath his chin and slot himself around you. 

“hey,” he finally replies, his eyes roving along your features, trying to memorize the shimmer of your lips. the long wisps of your lashes. “‘m simon.”

you giggle, introducing yourself shyly, and the sound of your laughter tickles his ears, making him weak to his knees. he mouths your name, testing it out for himself and preening when it rolls off his tongue with ease. like your name is something simon is supposed to always call. 

his new favourite word.

“sorry,” you say, lifting your hand like you want to reach out and touch him, only for you to snuff out the action in your anxiousness. “i don’t, uh, come up to people i find attractive so this is really making me nervous.”

simon is aware of how good he looks – he’s proud of it even – but there is something about a pretty darling like you admitting how his looks make you nervous that sparks the desire in him to transform into something more carnal.

something more visceral.

he reaches his hand out toward you, inviting you to finally close the remaining distance between you two, and smiles when you take the offer, placing your hand on top of his palm, sending goosebumps to rise across his skin. you step into his space and simon has to stop himself from breathing you in, afraid how he’ll end up reacting when he’s taken a whiff of your intoxicating scent. 

“i’ve ordered you a drink,” simon whispers, his voice a hoarse croak.

“oh,” you mumble. “thank you...”

he notes the hesitation in your words, the bubble in his chest popping as his worry extinguishes his burning desire. “you don’t have to drink it.”

“no!” 

he startles at your reaction, his wide eyes staring back at your equally shocked ones. 

it takes a heartbeat before the two of you are breaking off into choked laughter, your body angled to muffle your giggles on the sleeves of his sweater. simon’s heart clenches at the cute display and he curls his arms around you, pulling you close until your head is pressed on his chest.

he wonders if you can hear how fast his heart is beating.

it takes a while for the laughter to fizzle out, leaving you putty in his arms, your chin digging into his chest as you gaze up at him. simon eagerly returns your stare, his lips stretched into the softest of smiles now that he has you in his arms. he brushes your hair away from your face, warmth exploding in his chest at your happy little sigh.

“wanna leave this place with you,” you tell him and simon trembles with need. 

because he wants you to come home with him too. wants to show you how a sweetheart like you deserves to be treated. how you deserve to be cherished and pampered and revered. 

then, he remembers his goddamn harley. 

fuck. 

wait. now that he thinks about it-

“is there something wrong?” you ask, face creasing in worry at seeing his frown. 

“don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” simon replies, his mind already mapping out the roads to his place. “lemme just grab my keys while you drink up, yeah?”

you nod softly, eyes fluttering close when simon leans forward to press his lips on the top of your head, before stepping away from your warmth. he watches the way you ambled towards the bar counter, carefully picking up your new flute of bellini before turning to show him that adorable little smile that simon’s starting to be addicted to and taking a small sip of your cocktail.

the wrap of your pretty lips around the straw shouldn’t stir something so carnal in him but it does and simon gulps, well aware of the sudden thirst that sucked the moisture from his throat, before turning to march towards his table.

johnny whistles out loud when simon reaches them, tipping his new glass of beer and whooping even when kyle growls how he’s being too loud. simon would’ve sided with garrick, but his patience is running thin and the need that is raging within him is gaining strength so he ignores them both to stand beside johnny.

“keys.”

“what?”

“mactavish, give me your keys.”

“...why?”

simon holds in a sigh as he watches kyle reach over to smack johnny on the back of his head. “what the hell do you think?” 

john continues to ignore the group, his eyes trained somewhere on the dance floor. traitor, simon thinks. 

“oh,” johnny whispers. “oh!” 

he tries not to tap his foot as johnny grapples with his trousers, hitting his elbows on the edge of the table and angrily cursing in scottish, before finally fishing them out of the depths of his pockets and presenting them to simon. simon takes them with urgency, almost ripping them from johnny’s fingers, before throwing the keys of his harley to johnny and barking out his thanks.

“use protection!” johnny screams because of course he would. he’s a fucking bastard.

simon flips him off as he marches back towards you. 

you look up at hearing him call your name, your beautiful face glowing as you smile at him again.

god, he’ll never tire of seeing your pretty smile.

“ready?” he asks, masking the excitable tremble of his voice with a quick cough.

“mhmm!” you reply, putting down your half-empty cocktail and clambering beside simon’s side. he presses another kiss on the top of your head, this time no longer holding back as he breathes you in, and leads you out towards johnny’s car.

next time, he’ll take you out for a bike ride. 

because simon promises that there will be a next time.

starting to think if i might need a masterlist for biker!simon atp // edit: mlist!

[viridwns]

Hear me out- what if Darling sees Muzans female form? Honestly, I think i would go feral.

Female Muzan>Male Muzan

Darling would resist Male Muzan to the max. Like biting and scratching at him, making sure his life is way harder than it used to be.

But oh.

Ooohhhhh

When she sees female Muzan?

On her hands and knees. Even barking if F!Muzan commands it.

She's down HORRENDOUSLY (and who can blame her because same)

Darling is suddenly complying with everything she asks of her or does with her.

F!Muzan wants to dress her up all nice and pretty? Darling is going to be a perfect doll.

F!Muzan wants affection? Darling is all over her.

F!Muzan asks her to speak Japanese? Darling is suddenly fluent.

F!Muzan is also somewhat softer than M!Muzan, but still a real mean girl. She's also surprised at the whole switch darling went through the moment she saw her female form.

She isn't complaining, though, and absolutely ravishes in this new attention.

Darling just admires F!Muzan, it's like a whole new person demon. They enjoy cups of tea together, dressing up together, doing eachothers hair.

It's almost like how darling is with Daki only not platonic.

I wouldn't say darling is now A okay with the whole kidnapping and weird ass relationship thingy, but she is more willing when F!Muzan is around.

NSFWISH WARNING

Muzan would also use this to his advantage in the bedroom.

Darling was never compliant sleeping with the demon, but in female form, she is allot less resistant (it's still there, though)

F!Muzan has never been a fan of change, but when she tried out all these new ways in how they could pleasure each other, she was quite baffled.

I wouldn't say Muzan likes it better in female form, but he isn't complaining either.

She's still rough, but the experience is so much better somehow.

Anyway, F!Muzan is just better in lots of ways than M!Muzan (and hotter)

But you know, at the end of the day, it's still Muzan, and darling is still trying to bite her way out like a feral toddler.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Feral | JJK One Shot

Summary: Jungkook comes back from his Global Citizen Festival and tells you something funny that happened to him. Pairing: Jungkook x f!Reader | Established Relationship, idol!au Word Count: 2.5k~ Warnings: Explicit language and mature themes, mentions of bdsm, sub space and pet play A/N: Hey guys this is my first One Shot that I've uploaded to Tumblr and I'm scared but excited to see what you think. My asks and DMs are open if you have any feedback or just wanna say hi! A big thank you to @trina864 for helping me and encouraging me to start posting on here. Hopefully I'll be coming back with more fics very soon! P.s. Horribly edited so please excuse any errors

"Did you get to watch my performance tonight?" Jungkook asks, bright eyed and bushy tailed walking into our hotel room. I look at him with a pained expression "I'm sorry baby I really wanted to but I had an early morning meeting to talk about this big case we've been working on" I explain apologetically. "Oh" he deflates, sad that I wasn't watching. "That's okay, I know how hard you've been working lately, I understand" he says nodding his head, coming over to the bed to sit next to me and see what I'm working on. He acknowledges all the sleepless nights I've been having, and no matter how much he tries to get me to come to bed, I never listen. Most early mornings he finds me sleeping on my desk having passed out from exhaustion and he picks me up and brings me to bed to get at least a few comfortable hours of rest. 

"You wanna know something funny that happened today?" he says with a toothy grin. I hum in acknowledgement and close my laptop taking a break to give him my full undivided attention. "After one of my songs today I took my inner ear out because I could hear Army chanting something and I wanted to try to understand but I couldn't. So I asked them to do it a bit louder and I guess they were barking at me. Like 'woof woof woof woof'. It happened to me before when I was on Good Morning America and I wasn't really sure what it meant but it looked like they were having fun so I think that would mean it's a good thing right?" he says with an amused expression. "Yes Jungkook it's a good thing" I say giggling at his confusion. "So what does that mean when they bark at me?" he says looking at me and tilting his head at me just like Bam does to him. 

I take a few seconds to think about it but for the life of me I can't really seem to put it into words without making it even more confusing for myself. "Um, well I guess the basic thing that it means if they think you're really hot, like beyond hot" I start. "So sexy?" he says encouraging me to continue. "Yeah pretty much and have you ever really heard the expression of 'going wild' over something?" I ask. "Yeah?" he says dragging it out starting to understand the action a little bit more but still showing some confusion. "Well it's pretty much based on that among other things. Another thing people say is 'going feral' with is like beyond going crazy like when dogs are like foaming at the mouth" I say brining up an extreme example trying to help him get the picture. "You mean like when they have rabies?" he says now thoroughly amused. "I mean kinda but not really" I say tilting my head from from side to side a few times.

"One more thing I could think to link it to would be something a little on... well a little on the explicit side" I say cringing at having to explain this one. "Explicit? Army? Noooo!" he says laughing knowing damn well he has been showing a more explicit side of himself lately, amused that Army is following suit. "You're familiar with some basic concepts of bdsm right?" I say feeling a bit awkward bringing it up. "Well... yeah we've kind dabbled in it a little bit right?" he says with a smirk and poking my side" I flinch a bit at it and laugh nervously "Yeah but anyways, have you heard about pet play?" I ask hoping that I won't have to explain it too much. He tilts his his head up towards the ceiling in thought trying to remember if he's heard anything about it but comes up empty handed. "Mmm can't say that I have" he says and waits expectantly for my continued explanation. 

"Basically it kind of links to a degradation kink, you know when a person gets aroused by getting humiliated. You know, stuff like that" he nods his head showing me he's trying to follow. "So they are saying, well not all of them but I'm sure some of them are thinking this. But they are saying that they want you to degrade them and put a leash on them and treat them like they’re your pet and you can do as you please with them" I say cringing at the fact that I have to have to have this sort of conversation to begin with. "Uh huh" he says feeling slightly uncomfortable but still rather amused. "I mean you're hot so I'm not surprised that people are ready to submit to you like that. "Like you do" he says now dropping his voice an octave, making me shudder. "We're not talking about me right now" I say laughing it off, getting off the bed and putting some distance between us. Jungkook swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stares at me with a hunger in his eyes that had not been there moments ago. 

"Well why not? We're already on the subject, why not continue?" he says leaning his arms back on the bed and spreading his legs. "Because we're talking about your fans, you know Army?" I say continuing to back away from him until I hit a wall. "I don't want to talk about Army anymore, I spent some time with them today so now I want to spend some time with you" he says purposely toying with me, pushing all the right buttons. I let out a slight whimper not knowing how else to respond. "It's been a while since we tried something new hasn't it?" he says sitting up a bit. "Would you like to be my pet? Let me do whatever I want with you? I already know you like it when I call you names. What has been your favorite one recently? Slut? Whore? Bitch?" I whimper again while squeezing my thighs together. "Ah that's right, how fitting, would you like it if I put a leash on you, and let everyone see what a dirty little bitch you are for me? Make you crawl to me? I might even make you drink out of a bowl like the pretty little bitch you are. But wait that might be something you would enjoy. Would you like that pup?" he says waiting for my answer. 

I start to respond but he holds his hand up cutting me off. "Aww look at that, my dumb pup forgot that dogs don't talk. Now try again love, bark once for yes and twice for no" I squirm in place not sure exactly how to respond since the thought of it does intrigue me and I can't lie when I say that I can feel myself getting wet. He raises his brow at me waiting for me to respond and I finally decide to let out one little bark under my breath while hanging my head in shame. "I'm sorry pup what was that? I couldn't quite hear you?" I let out another bark in response now feeling my cheeks starting to heat up. "One more time for me, just a little bit louder. Do you want to be my dumb little pup? My bitch? Poor baby has made up her mind but is too embarrassed to bark. Come on, just a little louder. "Woof" I finally respond loud and clear this time, hoping he won't make me do it again. 

"Aw there we go. Looks like you aren't the dumb little bitch I thought you were. Puppy was just too shy to admit she wants me to play with her". I breathe out hoping he'll stop there but he decides to continue. "On all fours, now" he orders. This I can do, and I've done it multiple times without question when he has me in this sub space that I've been tipped over in. "Good girl" he says with a tone of voice he reserves for when he talks to Bam. For not knowing what this is he seems like quite the natural. "Baby come" he says ordering me to come to his side. I wince at the thought of me crawling over to him and he notices my hesitance, "Aw looks like my dumb little bitch still needs training. Puppy come here" he says in a more playful tone. I decide to surrender this time and crawl over to him and see his eyes rake over my body with a expression that I have never seen before but it makes me feel nervous but sexy. Once I sit in front of him I see him play with his lip rings and then rest on biting his lip for a second just gazing down on me. 

"You did so well love" he says cupping my face in his hand and rubbing his thumb over the apple of my cheek praising me for all that I've done. "You can come out if you want to" he says gently, coaxing me out of my sub space. I blink a few times and reach up to place my hand on top of his and he gives me soft smile, "There she is" he says and he looks down at me lovingly, "Looks like you really enjoyed that" he says helping me stand up. "You're one to talk" I say rubbing my aching knees that I only now just noticed. "Speaking of which you seemed like you're quite a natural for someone who isn't familiar with pet play" I say suspiciously. "Yeah about that..." he says trailing off. "Jeon Jungkook did you lie to me?" I say feeling utterly betrayed. "I'm sorry but you just looked super shy I just had to watch you explain it to me" he says pulling me onto his lap. I burry my face in the crook of his neck to hide my reddening face. 

"You're so mean"I mumble, "Aw come on you know I love you, plus look at you, you're my adorable little pup who listened so well" he says rubbing my back. I sit up and look at him, "But I thought I was your bitch" I say with a roll of my eyes. "That too, but you're my cute puppy first and foremost" he says ruffling my hair. "Hey! Don't do that!" I whine fixing it, "We're not playing like that anymore". "Alright alright, I'll stop. We can pick this up later" he says giving me a quick kiss on my cheek and placing me on the bed walking over to his bag on the floor. "Huh" I scoff, "What makes you think I wanna do that again?" I say crossing my arms over my chest. "Do I really need to see how much of a mess you've made down there right now?" my eyes widen at his words and I cross my legs in response. "Exactly" he laughs pulling out his laptop and his phone, walking over to the small couch in the corner. 

"What are you doing?" I ask curiously watching him prop up his phone. "I'm gonna go on live for a bit to check up on Army to see their reaction, especially since I dropped the teaser for 3D" he says with a smile. "You dropped it at the festival? Wow I can imagine the screams, especially after seeing their reaction to the proof teaser at your last concert in the US" I say shaking my head and smiling at the thought. "Yeah I'm even more excited to release it now!" he says feeling proud of himself. "You and Jack worked really hard on it so I'm sure they're gonna love it. Let's be real, if you just recoded a whole three minutes worth of you just breathing everyone would go crazy over it. That's basically what Hobi did in Jack in the Box right?" I finish laughing. He let's out a chuckle in response, "Yeah you're right, I'm sure it's gonna be great! Are you gonna go shower?" He asks watching me grab some stuff out of my bag. "Yeah I definitely need one, my back is killing me after having to sit in front of my computer all night. 

"Okay wait for me and I'll join you in a bit yeah?" he says with a sly smile. "You better hurry up then mister, I'm not taking a three hour shower because you're still on live" I say remembering the nights he would stay up talking to and spending time with Army. "Okay just give me like 15 minutes" he begs. I laugh and start to walk over to the bathroom but he calls out to me. "Wait!" I turn around at the sound of him, "Can I have a kiss?" he says with a pout, to which I can't help but agree to. I give him a kiss and he deepens it and he promises between kisses that he'll give me a massage to entice me into really waiting for him. I nod my head and roll my eyes and turn to walk to bathroom to which he responds with a loud slap on my ass. "Hey!" I yell back scolding him, but he puts up his finger to his lips as he presses the button to go live telling me to stay quiet. I huff silently and close the door behind me and start the shower and hear him make excuses for the noise.

"Oh I think it's just the sound of someone taking a shower next door. Yeah it's loud huh? I guess the walls are pretty thin here. Oh! Jin! Jin Hyung!" I hear him continue, sounding excited at what I could only think is the sight of Jin commenting on the live. Smiling I get into the shower and let the warm water wash away all the stress from the day until I hear a slight jiggle of the door nob. "Ya! Woman open the door!" I laugh at his pleading and leave him there complaining for a while before letting him in. "Oops" I say "I guess I forgot" I finish, feigning innocence. "Uh huh, you forgot" he says rolling his eyes at me and giving me another slap on the ass. "Just get back in the shower" he says and I give him a kiss before doing just that. 'Tonight is gonna be a long night' I think to myself as I bite my lip standing under the stream of water, waiting for him to join me.

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[allyeardepression]

@jegulus-microfic | feb 29 address | words 1881

hi, so this one is so fucking long, i don’t even know how it happened. anyways, hope you’ll enjoy it :3

first part | previous part

Reg

So

Will you be there tonight?

James looked at the message he received almost half an hour ago and for the hundredth time deleted his response.

‘Of course I’ll be there’ sounded too eager. ‘Yeah’ was out of question with it being too dry. ‘I’ll try to make it’ was just mean, like when you have a big event at school and your parents say that exact line, and you just feel like shit. So he sat there, on his couch, contemplating how to answer the man he apparently fancies. He thought the crush went away with them going separate ways after school, but oh well. With just one dinner, all the feelings came back, making him feel like a teenager again.

He deleted another answer when Regulus texted him again.

Reg

You know I can see you typing then changing your mind over and over again, right?

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was his chance to keep this from getting any weirder.

James

yeah i know sorry about that

and answering the first question yes ill be there

:)

With that, he threw his phone as far away from himself as he could and went to have a crisis while taking a shower. And don’t get him wrong - he really wanted to be there, to see the art Regulus makes, but at the same time he didn’t want to make a fool of himself. He liked Reg, he wanted to get to know him again after all those years they haven’t talked. And yet, he was still afraid he would fuck it up somehow.

“No you won’t” he said to his reflection in the mirror. “You won’t, just pull yourself together. And don’t act weird, just… be who you are. If he doesn’t like it, back off.”

After that little motivational talk, James started to get ready properly. He did his skincare routine, tried to (and failed) tame the nest on his head, also known as hair, and went to the closet to find something suitable for the occasion. How does one even dress for opening?

Having no better option, James decided to do the most stupid thing he could do.

“What are you wearing tonight?” he asked without any greeting. On the other side he heard the most feral laughter ever and just groaned at it. “It’s not funny, I really don’t know!” the laughter became even more hysterical, so James just stood in the middle of his closet, waiting for Sirius to calm down.

“Oh god, this is too good” his best friend chuckled a little breathlessly. “Are you trying to impress my brother or what?”

“I’m not trying to impress anyone, I just… what should I wear? To not look like an idiot?” more giggles from Sirius.

“Yeah, well, me and Moony are going in our usual clothes, so maybe something in between?”

“You mean I should go as a slutty grandpa?” James grumbled. His bestie just barked another laugh at that.

“Yes, exactly! Hope I helped, gotta go, see you there” and the call ended.

It actually did help, to his surprise. He put on a maroon turtleneck, paired it with suit trousers and his favourite red converse. The entire outfit, although simple, seemed to emphasise his muscles, giving the exact result James was aiming for. He put three golden hoops in his ear and finally felt ready.

Grabbing the phone from the armchair it landed on, James check if Regulus sent any new messages - he did.

Reg

I’m glad.

Don’t overdress, it’s a casual event, nothing fancy.

Do you know where to go?

Should I send you the address?

?

Hello?

Are you alive?

James, it’s been more than an hour, are you alright?

James smiled at all of this, quickly replying with ‘yes everythings good the shower took longer than it should pls send the address’.

***

He arrived at a small local art gallery, where the opening took place. As soon as James got out of his car, Remus and Sirius spotted him, practically running in his direction. The shorter man, dressed in a silk shirt, unbuttoned halfway down his chest, and tight jeans (all black, of course), jumped into his arms, screaming excitedly, like he hasn’t seen him in a while (since yesterday). From behind, Sirius’ fiancé rolled his eyes, smirking at their antics.

“Fancy seeing you here, Prongs” Remus said cheekily, when the long-haired man came to his side. It was James’ turn to roll his eyes.

“Are we coming in or are we just gonna stand here and freeze?” Sirius asked, snuggling closer to Remus.

“You should’ve dressed accordingly to the weather. I’m feeling petty so - Moony, would you mind giving me a fag?” James chirped sweetly, batting his lashes at the taller man.

He didn’t give him the cigarette, what’s with his shivering partner, so they just walked in to the gallery.

James spotted Regulus immediately. He was wearing a dark green sweater with a white collar sticking out from under it, black trousers and low Docs. He looked innocent and hot at the same time. He could see the younger man noticing him, too, when his lips turned into a little smile.

“Hi, Little Star” Reg snorted at that, and that was all he had to do to get himself a wide grin from James.

“Hello, James. Thank you for coming” came the slightly amused answer. They scanned each other for a second. From up close Regulus looked even better, James thought.

“You look good, I mean, like, very good” Reg chuckled softly at that and the other man melted a little.

“You look good, too” younger man replied, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

Their moment was interrupted by Sirius barging in, saying how proud of his little brother he is, while ruffling Reg’s hair. Even though he didn’t like it, Regulus hasn’t voiced his displeasure. It was nice of him, really.

Not long after, some professor welcomed everyone from the middle of the room, talking about all the hard work his students put into this exhibition and how glad he was to see so many people coming to appreciate that work. Some ovations. Then they were free to admire the pieces. Most of them were paintings, but there were also sculptures and some photographs.

The theme of the exhibition was ‘love’, so the students presented how they perceived it - some in a cute way, whit elderly couples sitting on a bench or some places they loved, but there were also darker ones, presenting the topic as suffocating or painful. James felt sorry for all those people who suffered because of something that should have been beautiful.

When they finally reached Regulus’ pieces James felt something warm crawling inside his chest. He didn’t immediately understand them, since Reg created abstract art, but the longer he looked the more he could see. On the first one there were spots of paint that must’ve been two cuddled figures in the dark place, surrounded by a little light, just around them, like a halo. James thought it must represent how Regulus felt about his brother, what was confirmed as he spotted Sirius’ eyes glistening in the bright lights of the gallery.

The second one was brighter, like it was some kind of meadow maybe? There also were smudges of paint in different colours - some of them lighter others darker. Those probably were Regulus’ friends and James had an urge to comment on that one.

“That’s so cute. They must’ve loved it so much” he said, looking down at Regulus. “Where are they, by the way?”

“They will come later, when there’s not so many people so we can really discuss others works” the younger man replied simply. “We’ll probably just end up laughing at them, really” he added with a shrug.

At that James pretend to be outraged, gasping and putting a hand to his chest.

“Oh! Am I not worthy of laughing at other people’s art with you? Tell me how can I be granted this privilege, I’ll do anything!” He kept up his act, grabbing Regulus by the shoulders, bending his knees like a sufferer begging for water.

The younger of Black brother looked at him, trying real hard to not look amused, but his eyes were giving him away.

“You’re pathetic” he said, not even a little bite to it. To be honest he sounded a little like he was enjoying James’ antics.

“Yet, you like me so much you managed to rob your own brother of my number” James said it like he was plotting something. “And you wanted to rob me of my time, the audacity.”

“Please stop” the shorter man buried his face in his hands. “Don’t mention it ever again” he added, a little muffled by the hands. He had really nice hands, James noticed.

“Oh, I will not stop till the day I die.”

They moved to the third piece and- oh. James might not be the brightest person alive, but he knew what was on the last painting. It was similar to the other two they saw earlier, smudges of paint in different shades creating two figures. The figures were hugging, not like the first ones, but more like lovers trying to become one. One person was rather pale, contrasting with the other who looked tanned. Their hair was black and deep brown, respectively.

James looked at it with awe, felt the butterflies waking up in his stomach and flying freely all over his body. He looked at Regulus, but the other man hasn’t met his eyes, staring straight ahead at his work. James noticed he turned a pretty shade of reddish pink on every bit of his face. His own lips turned into a big fucking grin. He wanted to reach out, touch Regulus, hug him, anything really.

Unfortunately, from behind him came Sirius’ gasp and then excited “Oh my god, Reggie, you painted me and Moony? Oh, that is so lovely, can I have it later?”

James, Remus and Regulus looked at the man at the same time, each one with a deep frown, not believing how delusional Sirius is. As if they shared a brain cell, all three of them nodded in agreement to not lead him astray.

Regulus cleared his throat, and turning to his brother he said “Yes, that’s you and Remus, and no, you cannot take it.”

As the older turned to stare daggers at the younger, they just started bickering about who should have the painting, Remus and James looking at them with amusement.

After some time Regulus’ friends came and the three older man ushered to exit so the younger guys could have fun together. Just before they left, James approached Regulus one last time, cheeky smile on his lips.

“Sirius and Moony, huh?” it earned him an eye roll and a sheepish ‘shut up’. He just smiled wider and leaned down to whisper in Reg’s ear, feeling the black-haired man’s breath hitching “Text me when you get home.”

With that he walked backwards in the general direction of the exit, still looking at Regulus who looked positively stunned. James winked at him and Reg, after waking from the haze, flipped him off. James just chuckled at that loudly, turning to the door.

[bumpkinspice0]

Parallels: Chapter 14 The Predator

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Explicit (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: With Miguel in full rage mode, it’s up to you to save the day . But what happens after you finally stop the anomaly?

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, blood kink, biting, feral Miguel, borderline marking (don’t fucking look at me) fingering, oral f receiving , rough sex, possessive Miguel, waxing poetic about cumming (I said don’t fucking look at me!!!)

A/N:  Sorry this took a while! My only excuse is that I was WAY over thinking this chapter and I also started another fic because why not. I hope this being absolutely filthy makes up for the wait....

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Series Masterlist

AO3

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Chapter 14

The Predator

This must be what mice feel like under the gaze of a cat. Like a rabbit that wandered into a foxhole. A spider caught in her own web— completely helpless.

The man you admire stalks towards you with inhuman, jerky movements. Whatever Kraven had poisoned him with had burned through his power suppressants and left you with the part of him you still didn’t fully understand. The part of him you both feared— now walking free.

He’s right in front of you now, your head hanging directly at his eye level. He leans closer and you shiver as you feel his hot breath against your neck. You need to break your restraints, you need to move but panic freezes over your limbs.

“Miguel,” You say softly, “It’s me. I-it’s me. Fight it.”

Your spider-sense is ringing in your ears and you’re not entirely sure what it’s telling you. You can only assume it’s doing the same for him.

“Arañita,” He draws back, his piercing red eyes shooting right through you. You can see the battle raging behind them. The struggle within himself. He recognizes you, yes, but is he in control?

Mocking laughter takes his attention away from you. Kraven is perched in a tree just above. 

“There you are,” he says pridefully, “There is the beast worthy of my prowess. Let the true hunt begin!”

Miguel roars, leaping after the crazed hunter. His movements are more powerful than you’ve ever seen. You feel every reverberation of his powerful claws as he scales the trees. You swear you hear the massive redwood crack through its center as he does so. His every move was lethal— deadly. A killing machine. 

And it’s exactly what Kraven wanted. 

The hunter bounds from branch to branch again, giving Miguel chase with a chorus of maniacal laughter. He was enjoying this way too much. And here you were, dangling by your own webs— helpless.

Miguel brought you here to help him, to be a team. So you’re going to help him.

You manage to swing yourself to the tree trunk the snare trap was attached to. You stand horizontally, your feet easily sticking to the bark. With yourself anchored down it was much easier to get the proper leverage to break your webs. With one final flex, you shrug them off and immediately follow Miguel and Kraven. 

You couldn’t see them anymore but they were making enough noise to alert the entire forest. Several small critters run through the branches in the opposite direction. Follow the sound of breaking twigs and masculine roars and you’d be on their tail in no time. Who needs a spider-sense. 

Even in the panic you still find yourself on high alert with your surroundings. Kraven had laid traps that stopped both of you already. Who knows how much of the forest he boobytrapped. Who knows if Miguel could even sense them anymore in his state. 

This wasn’t just about catching an anomaly anymore. This was about protecting Miguel. Protecting him from himself. You have no idea how you’re going to do it but you have to get them separated, get Kraven in a cage, and get Miguel calm and somewhere safe. 

You’re fucking Spider-Woman. This should be easy… That’s what you tell yourself anyway. 

They’re fast but you still manage to catch up. You keep a loose pursuit a few dozen yards back. The two men too distracted with fighting each other to bother with you. If you keep stealthy you can work this situation exactly like the Electro mission. Miguel distracts while you capture. You don’t have any of the cyber traps but you could still web him up. At least long enough to kick him into a portal.

If it ain’t broke don’t fix it.

Miguel grabs Kraven’s ankles and they both plummet to the forest floor. Perfect. You shoot to the upper branches. With the higher vantage point, you’d have a clear shot with your webs. Luck seems to be on your side for once in this whole fucking ordeal. 

They grapple and wrestle wildly around the ground. You just needed a split second of an opening and you’d have him. It’s all you needed— Just a second.

Miguel pins the hunter to the tree you’ve perched yourself in. The force of the impact ripples all the way up the trunk. The wood groans and cracks in protest. They haven’t spotted you, your form still concealed by the branches.

This is it. It’s your chance to end this. He’s right there. Miguel raises a mighty claw to the hunter and you ready your spinnerets.

It happens all within a fraction of a second. 

You shoot a web. Kraven twists out of Miguel’s grasp just as his claw comes down. Kraven slips away with practiced ease and Miguel slices through the tree. With your web's original target now gone, it explodes on the ground at Miguel’s feet. His gaze shoots up directly to you— A gaze completely devoid of the man you know.

Well fuck.

He begins to crawl to you, Kraven completely forgotten behind him. A thunderous snap rings out of the wood from Miguel’s claw marks at the base. The tree gives one final groan before cracking under its own weight. The tree begins to tip backward, yet Miguel seems unbothered by it. He had a new target. 

Double fuck.

“Forget her!” Kraven yells as he pulls Miguel back, “I will deal with her next.”

You leap from the falling tree, swinging yourself to safety on a nearby branch. The two men below you continue their constant power struggle, seemingly unbothered by the falling giant next to them. Seems like Miguel took Kraven’s advice. He’d forgotten about you. 

You don’t know much about how Miguel works when he’s in this state. He didn’t have a strategy or the same carefully planned movements you were used to. It was only rage. Unbridled rage. 

There were only the things in front of him. Whatever caught his attention. That’s what he could focus on. That’s what he was capable of. You couldn’t take a passive role here and just wait for an opening like you planned. If you had any chance of getting to Miguel, you still had to separate them. 

What better way to do that than to forcefully insert yourself.

“Please be able to sense me coming, big guy,” You shoot a web across the clearing where the two were fighting. You grasp it tightly and take a deep breath that comes out more as an irritated sigh, “Tallyho.”

You swing. 

Your prayers are answered and Miguel seems to sense you, ducking out of the way of your dramatic entrance. Your feet make contact with Kraven’s face, your full momentum sending him flying several feet. You roll to a stop, poised perfectly between the two men.

You’re back to Miguel. You can feel his rage. His anger. His confusion. You slowly turn to face him, peeling off your mask as you do so. There was no need for it here. You feel the shared buzzing in your head amplify as recognition flashes across Miguel's face, just for a moment. He feels it too. Primal instincts ruled him now. The spider-sense tells him what your words never could. 

We’re on the same team. 

“Stupid girl!” Kraven shouts behind you, “You interfere with destiny!”

“You’re interfering with reality, so I think you have me beat.” You spit back. 

“Do not come between a hunter and his prey.”

“A little late for that, buddy.” You scoff. 

Miguel roars, bounding over you and directly for Kraven. The hunter leaps for him too. 

Within a fraction of a second, you make a decision. Maybe you couldn’t separate them like this, not when instinct ruled the fight. Not when they were so much stronger than you. If you couldn’t get them apart then you had to move them together, just like when you brought Miguel back home from his dystopian mission all those weeks ago. 

You don’t have to play by The Hunter's rules. Take Kraven out of his element and force him into yours. Get him in chains then help Miguel. And the plan was still the same as the old one… forcefully insert yourself.

Time seems to speed up again and the two predators are bounding for each other right above your head. In mid-air, they’re the most vulnerable. You leap between them, a portal springing from your wrist as you do so. All three of you tumble through together and blip across reality.

The trip back to the tower was long considering the position of this universe in the multiverse. You could jump to most realities in a matter of seconds, here you would be traveling through wormholes for just over a minute—a minute with these two raging men. An eternity by multiverse travel standards. You could do it. You could keep them under control. It’s only a minute. 

You’re quite literally trapped in the chaos. Both of them seemingly unbothered by the sudden change of environment continue fighting while you struggle to get free from the tussle. Not the most ideal situation but at least you’re out of the booby-trapped forest. Once you’re in the tower everything will be okay.

It’s only a minute.

Sandwiched between the two raging men, you kick both your feet as hard as you can, effectively using your body as a crowbar. You spiral through the wormhole with Kraven, Miguel trailing further behind. They’re both in front of you now, Kraven crawling to get closer to you and Miguel clawing to get closer to Kraven. 

You take advantage of the newly established distance and ready your webs at Kraven. If you could subdue him just a little, this whole thing would be so much easier. You shoot but he’s still too quick. He grabs the web and pulls you into him. It’s moments like this you wish you had claws.

He pulls you into a bear hug, squeezing every ounce of air from your lungs. You swear you hear bones crack.

“You couldn’t say out of it could you, dorogoy!” He growls in your ear, “You want this to be your fight so bad? Fine.”

Just past his shoulder, you can see Miguel is nearly on both of you now, claws ragging and fangs bared. With a loud grunt of effort, Kraven quickly flips you both around. Before you even have time to guess his plan, you feel it— a stabbing pressure in your neck and warm blood trickling down. Movements too fast Miguel couldn’t stop himself until it was too late.

He’d bitten you, venom now injecting into your veins. Paralizing venom meant for Kraven.

Miguel removes his mouth from your shoulder and the instant he does your spider-sense explodes in your head. Fear, confusion, anger, rage— you cycle through every emotion in an instant as venom starts to pulse through your body. In the slew of feelings, one stands prominent. Panic. Sheer panic.

You can’t see his face behind you, but you can feel him— the same as you. Panicking, even amid his animalistic rage he’s still a man. Still your Miguel. You swear you can hear his thoughts screaming in your head.

What did I do? What did I do?!

A mocking chuckle starts in Kraven’s throat again. You don’t want him to have it, a moment of victory. He hasn’t stopped either of you. Not yet. You still have precious seconds before you’re paralyzed and useless. Seconds you won’t waste.

You swing your head forward, colliding with Kraven’s. You feel his nose crunching under your forehead. It’s enough for his grip to loosen just enough. You leap from between the two of them, webbing Kraven’s hands together in the process. You pull him forward away from Miguel, now left trailing behind again. 

The exit portal sneaks up on you— your one minute is up. You burst into the 2099 reality dragging the Kraven anomaly on a leash. You pull him from the portal and swing him into the closest wall. You’d teleported to Miguel’s lab. You can feel your brain fogging. Limbs weakening. Contain him— now. That’s all you had to do. 

You quickly look around for anything you can use. By some stroke of luck, a pile of cyber traps sat on a nearby desk. You throw one without hesitation. Before Kraven can get back on his feet he’s trapped in a glowing cage of energy. 

It’s done. The bots can take care of the rest. It’s over.

Finally, Miguel bursts from the portal behind you. Oh yeah, you think briefly.

It’s not like last time though. He’s not all ragging claws and gnashing teeth. He sits there, crouched down and completely still. The portal blips from existence and an eerie silence fills the room. It’s then that you notice something. You feel— fine.

The effects of Miguel’s venom are nearly instantaneous, you’d seen it before, yet here you stand completely okay. You lightly touch the wound on the apex of your shoulder and neck and pull your hand away. You don’t know what you expect to see, maybe neon green mixed with crimson red, something alien and inexplicable, but it’s just blood. It’s just blood and you’re just fine. 

But what about Miguel?

He still sits there, unmoving. You dare to take a step closer. “Miguel?”

“Don’t” he growls, his shoulders tensing. “Finish it.”

You glance down and see his claws digging into the floor, pulling up the metal paneling. He’s trying to get himself under control. You quickly turn to grab a dose of his suppressants when that fucking voice stops you.

“Oh, this I did not expect,” Kraven laughs from his small prison in the corner. “A viper can not poison one of its own. And here I thought I’d get you out of the way. You two are of the same making, no? Well, what does this mean?”

“Shut. Up.” You sneer at him. You hear Miguel’s claws digging deeper into the floor— holding himself back. 

Don’t let him provoke you.

“Perhaps this is still your fight, dorogoy,” the hunter tuts, “A shame I’m not part of it, though.”

Miguel turns to him, his face completely cast in shadow. Only the reds of his eyes seen from the dark void, “She said… shut up.”

Kraven’s expression shifts. His eyebrows raise in amusement, a sickening smile curving in the corners of his mouth. “Oh. Oh, I see. Not a fight but… perhaps something else. You both reek of it. Desire.”

“Shut up. Shut up.” Miguel heaves. You feel like you can’t move.

“You’re part of her now, flowing through her veins. You’ve claimed her,” His disgusting words send shivers down your spine, “Or have you claimed her already, beast?”

The tension snaps. Miguel hurdles toward the cage. Claws and blades clash against the force field with an ugly static crack. He moves so fast his arms are almost a blur, struggling to break past the barrier. A raging frenzy to get closer to his target. Kraven doesn’t move, standing still with that gut-wrenching smile never once faltering. He didn’t win the fight, sure, but he’s enjoying taunting Miguel. 

You’ve decided you’ve had enough of this madness— from both of them.

“Miguel!” you scream so loud it echoes through the entire lab. Miguel freezes, glancing over his shoulder at you. You should be afraid of him, and maybe some part of you is, but you know who he is. The man underneath all of this, “He’s not worth it.”

He remains frozen. You’re not sure if he’s debating if you’re right or not— or if he’s just trying to fight the animal inside. Eventually, he steps away with a loud grunt, crawling back into the shadows. 

A faint sigh of relief passes through your lips, “Lyla, get him out of here.” you call to the room. Several bots crawl into view and begin taking the cage out. 

Kraven’s eyes were glued to you, that sickening, amused smile still there, “Do svidaniya, dorogoy.” You hold back the urge to spit in his direction until the door shuts behind him. 

He’s gone. Now just one more thing to deal with. 

You grab the injection gun from his desk. Miguel sits in a dark corner facing the wall. You approach him cautiously, dampener serum in hand. 

“Mig?” You coo softly, “Let’s take care of you.”

“Leave it.” He growls through gritted teeth, “I’ll… do it myself.” 

“You can’t,” You take another step closer. 

He whips around, a spine-chilling sound rumbling from his throat. “Just… go.” his words dripped with rage. With something inhuman. He’s fighting so hard to be present. 

You can’t just leave with him like this. How can he expect you to just walk away now? Even though you're annoyed by his insistence, you understand why. He’s still ashamed. He’s scared of what he’ll do and with good reason. 

I don’t want you to see me like this.

And yet, you can’t bring yourself to just leave him.

“No.” You stand your ground. “You don’t scare me, Mig.”

“I should,” He stands, lumbering toward you, massive arms hanging low at his sides. Each heavy step closer sends a shock wave up your body, “Look what happened.”

He grabs your injured shoulder forcefully. He stares down at the fresh bite mark, blood still weakly dripping from it. There was almost no pain with it anymore, but maybe… something else.

You feel the spider-sense stir between you. 

“But it’s okay,” you assure him softly, “I’m okay. Nothing happened.”

“But we didn’t know that,” He grits out, “We didn’t know you’d—” 

A pained moan escapes his lips and he steps away. You feel it rising— the heat in your belly. 

“Please,” he whimpers, “Just go. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You stand still for a moment, debating if you really should. If you even could. Is something calling you to stay with him or is it just your own selfish desires?  You decide you don’t care. You feel it now stronger than you ever have. The need for him. His smell. His taste— everything.

You step towards him again, into the shadows. You place your hand on his chest, letting the touch linger for a moment. You feel his heart beating at a record pace. 

“You could never hurt me.”

It all comes crashing down, both of your paper-thin resistance. He attacks your mouth hungrily, bringing you both to your knees. You drop the injector gun, leaving it long forgotten on the floor. He crawls on top of you, you cling to whatever part of him you can. 

It’s a frenzy. A feverish, lustfully brawl you want to surrender your entire body to. In a way you already have. The sense sings and moans with the two of you in a way it never had before. Something deep and primal and sick— you loved it. 

His mouth is on your neck, trailing across your throat to the bloody mark he’s made. He pauses when he gets to it, his lips hovering just above the bloody bite. Your skin pricks in anticipation, for what exactly, you don’t know. 

He licks a long, hot stripe across the mark before bringing his mouth completely down on it. You don’t expect it.  Electricity shoots through your entire being. You grab at his head, not to pull him away, but to push him closer— impossibly closer. He moans at your encouragement, drinking from your neck like it’s the holy grail itself. 

You fucking love it. Why do you love it? Why do you want him so badly this way? Questions that shoot through your head at warp speed but you decide you don’t really care to answer any of them. You don’t care about the why anymore. You just want him.

He comes off you with a gasp, blood smearing his mouth. His eyes are lidded and dazed as he looks down at you. The look sends a wave of arousal straight to your core— and it doesn’t go unnoticed. A predatory spark flashes across his face and he descends on you again.

His massive hands wrap around your midsection, squeezing roughly. You can feel him trembling. He drops his forehead to yours, “Do you feel it, Arañita?”

“Yes.” you breathe. 

He closes his eyes, breathing you in slowly, “Tell me to stop.”

Your hands come up to his chest again, his suit fading away in an instant. His breathing is heavy and ragged. You could stop this all now. You should stop this— but—-

“Never,” you pull him into another kiss, blood still fresh on his lips. He moans into you before taking control again. 

He turns you around onto your hands and knees, ripping a sloppy line down the back of your suit. The material falls away, exposing you to him entirely. He grabs your hips roughly, pulling you back and licking a long stripe up the length of your spine. The sensation nearly makes your knees give out. 

“Oh god,” you hear him murmur against your skin, “Look at you. Fucking look at you.”

“Miguel, please,” You whine. You need him. You fucking need him now. 

“Poor thing,” He growls, fingers ghosting over your waiting cunt. He pushes one in, slowly. You bite your lip, suppressing the moan he’s pulling out of you, “So wet for me. Always so goddamn wet for me. Such a good girl.”

He adds another finger and the air in your lungs dries up into a breathless gasp. He pumps into you, once— twice— Three times. Lude wet sounds fill the massive space. He rips his hand from you, and you almost scream at the sensation, the sudden emptiness. Then you hear it again, lustful, sickening wet sounds followed by muffled moans— He’s licking his fingers clean of you. 

His wet hands grab your hips roughly with a loud slap. He pulls you back towards him, dragging you along the floor. You preen under him, arching your hips higher. 

“So filthy,” he growls, squeezing your hips to the point of bruising.

He comes down on you again. You scream when you feel his tongue dragging through your slick folds, stopping just at the edge of your seam, the bridge of his nose nudging at your hole. He greedily laps at you, pulling the most sinful sounds from your throat. You fall on your forearms, displaying yourself even more for him. The position was so vulnerable yet so delicious. You were at his full mercy.

And again, he fucking pulls away. 

You whine, nearly screaming from the loss this time. But he doesn’t let you move, hands still firmly grasping your hips.

“Shhh, Arañita.” His wet lips hover along your back again, kisses placed along their trail up your spine. You finally feel his hard length resting on your ass. He pulls himself down and slicks himself through your folds. Already overstimulated, it feels like heaven. 

He jerks you back, and in one fluid motion completely buries himself inside you. Your face contorts into a silent scream, the stretched pain easily melting into pleasure. He holds you there, just for a moment. His breath is already heavy and ragged. You feel every inch of him. You feel him throbbing inside you.

“T-take me so well, baby,” You swear he spits it through clenched teeth. He drags you off him painfully slowly and slams you back at light speed. You choke out a delighted moan, “Tan jodidamente buena.”

He starts a punishing pace, using you as he sees fit.

You reach down to your aching clit in dire need of relief. His hand instantly swats yours away, his fingers quickly working over your swollen bud. He leans over you, his free arm practically caging you in while his hips keep up their brutal pace. He nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck, right next to the bite mark.

“Who makes you feel this good?” He growls in your ear, “Say it.”

By some divine miracle, you're able to form speech.

“Y-you do,” you moan back, “Only you.”

“That’s right. Only I can fuck you like this. Only me.” He says it like the most assured thing in the world, and you know he’s right. His fingers work quicker over your clit, sending you to a new high. You’re close. So fucking close.

His mouth comes back down on you, suckling again at the bloody mark he’d left. He’s consuming you in every sense of the word— at his full mercy.

You know you surely scream loud enough for the entire tower to hear, and you don’t fucking care.

You come like a crack of thunder, loud and ungodly powerful. It surges through you, ripping you apart and rebuilding you again from the atomic level. A numb, euphoric moment where you're drifting on the clouds of the world, experiencing all of creation at once before plummeting back down to earth in a flaming ball that threatens to burn you up entirely. You almost want the flames to consume you if it meant you could be like this with him forever.

Then you’re finally gasping for air again, Miguel still pounding into you like a fever dream.

“Oh god,” A pained groan drools out of his mouth. “S-so– so tight when you come.”

He pulls you both backward, holding you there on your knees while he continues to fuck up into you. He held you close to him while he chased his pleasure now. You arch back into him, your head resting in the crook of his neck. His fingers haven’t left your throbbing clit, nearly blinding you with how sensitive you were now. His other hand drags along your body, coming up to squeeze your breast. Every small movement on your skin was like fire.

You’re an absolute mess. A stammering, over-stimulated, cock drunk mess. You feel your vocal cords straining yet can’t seem to stop yourself from wailing out in pure ecstasy. 

His movements have become more desperate so close to release. He pounds harder and harder until he’s falling down around you with a choked gasp. His quivering muscles cage in around you as he pumps you full of everything he has. You feel him throbbing, his cock straining inside you until he’s completely spent.

He relaxes, his giant form pinning you down to the floor. The steady breathing of his chest pushing into you as you both gather yourself.

It’s seconds, it’s years, you don’t know how long it is until you both move. He rolls off of you slowly, a pained grunt he tries to hide when he slips out of you. It all leaks out of you, trailing down your thigh and instantly sending a cold shiver up your spine when it meets the air. You both lay there shoulder to shoulder, naked in a glistening mess— completely unsure of what to say now.

Whatever you’d both just done, what you’d experienced, was indescribable. 

You see him reach over and grab the injector gun, shooting the dose into his shoulder instantly— though you’re not entirely sure he needed it anymore.

“Told you I could do it myself,” Miguel sighs as he lays back down next to you.

“Such a big boy,” You taunt him, rolling over to cuddle up to his side.

He pulls you in without hesitation. He places a kiss on the top of your head before letting a final deep breath sigh from his mouth. You expect him to suddenly come back to reality. To remember all the blood and start profusely apologizing. To beg you to leave so you didn’t have to look at him anymore and get back to work, his whole usual shtick. 

Instead, he says something you never expected. 

“Let’s go home.”

__________

Miguel needs to stop making promises to himself he can’t keep. 

You’re in his bed again, curled up in one of his shirts fast asleep. You’re staying the night— again. It didn’t feel right to just send you home after what you’d both been through, but maybe he just didn’t want you to leave either.  

He can’t sleep, sitting up and watching you as if you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. Part of him hopes you would just vanish, then it would mean none of this was ever real. There’d be no consequences and he could go on living his life without the looming threat of you being gone one day. 

To his simultaneous disdain and relief, you’re still soundly sleeping in his bed.

He runs his finger over the bandages now adorning your neck. Various other scrapes and bruises from him were scattered around your body. It should be completely healed by morning but he’ll always know what he did to you. He’ll always know what you both did tonight. 

It’s not something he can explain, and if he’s being honest he doesn’t want to think about it either. Something took over him, of both of you— and he loved it. A part of himself he’d fought for years to keep caged was out and it felt amazing. It was amazing because you were there for it all. You did something to him. 

But what would happen if you weren’t there? This is the second time you’ve saved his ass. The second time he’d dragged you specifically into trouble he’d created. He’d never needed rescuing before. Had he gone soft? Or was he perhaps going at everything too hard? He doesn’t know for certain but he’s sure of one thing— it was better when you were there.

Yes… you’d definitely changed something in him, and he’s not entirely sure it’s for the better. 

He was a protector. He stood up for those who couldn’t do it themselves, for his community, for his colleagues, the whole universe at large. Yet here you were, saving him from himself again. It wasn’t right. It was unfair to put his burden on your shoulders too. You didn’t ask for any of this, but neither did he really.

You’d both known from the beginning that this wasn’t going to be anything. It was only an arrangement out of necessity until he could free you both. A freak coincidence. And now it’d become so much more, hadn’t it? He wants to kick himself for letting it get this far. He knows better. But when it came to you, he just couldn’t help himself.

It can’t continue. He had the means to end it and he will. The serum is ready and waiting. The cure. You’d likely hate him forever, and that’s fine. He’ll be fine with seeing you live your life from a distance, knowing you’d both be safer for it. That’s what you’d both agreed upon after all, wasn’t it? 

Yeah, he really needed to stop making promises he couldn’t keep. 

Tonight, he’ll just hold you close. Memorize every line on your face. Every valley of your body. The sound of your breathing. He’ll lock the memory of you deep down and hold it close so it never gets out again. Tonight, you’re still his. 

Tomorrow, he’ll finally put an end to this madness. 

____________

Translations:

Arañita- Little Spider dorogoy- Darling or dear Do svidaniya, dorogoy- Goodbye, dear Tan jodidamente buena- So Fucking good

And of course do Correct me if any of this is wrong <3 I'm gonna go touch some grass now bye

____________

Taglist:

@ineedgarlicbread @pinkiemme @thesilenthill @bontensbabygirl @fallenangelsongwolf @raerorigel @littlefreakymunson @viriexo

@w33ni3 @del-ightfulling

Taglist post here!!!

[love-toxin]

If you have any more thoughts on this bully!Eddie and bully!Steve dynamic you'd like to share...Cause this had me fucking feral. Older or younger, their partnership has to be deadly.

Constantly in silent competition with each other to see who makes reader cry the hardest, the manipulation tactics, bro. I just want them both to be really mean and possessive over me, you know?

heh. heheheheheh.....HEH!!! i made this a little sweeter cuz im weak

let them eat cake

(cws: older!bully!steddie, f!waitress!angelface, age gap (20s-late 30s/40s), innocence/corruption kink, a singular knife, they're possessive in their own way, crying, sexual harrassment (not them), shitty diner etiquette, steve has sugar daddy tendencies, a little angst with a fluffy ending.)

The possessiveness is what really gets them. Steve and Eddie love seeing you cry, love making you wet while you work, love talking down to you when you can't talk back and you wouldn't anyways cause you're just so pretty and dumb and sweet, too shy and too nice to have an attitude and they can tell after a while that it's cause you like the attention. Or maybe you have a thing for degradation and you aren't even aware of it, who knows?

But there are times when your teary-eyed face isn't satisfying, when your trembling shoulders as you approach their table don't make Steve's leg bounce and Eddie's grin twitch up. When you hurriedly try to wipe your face dry before you come up to them, your voice crackly and soft as you whimper out a "wh-what can I get for you today?" with your pen poised over your notepad that won't stop shaking. Those are the times that they aren't the culprits for your misery, and they wanna know who the fuck has been pushing around their dumb little princess.

Yeah, your job at the diner is shitty, and the hag at the front counter likes to bark at you pretty often as the only other waitress--but that's not enough to make you this way. They survey the rest of the diner until their eyes land on another table a ways away, and see the group of happy-go-lucky college boys that are so loud and rowdy that their voices are already giving Steve a headache. And after you bring the older gentlemen their waters and sweet tea (that you make yourself and they always insist on having a taste of even though it's the same recipe every time) they watch you get more and more anxious as you pass those dickheads by, the group of them high off a game win or something because they wolf whistle in your direction every time you get close enough. It's rage-inducing for the two of them, watching those shitty fucking brats make comments and flirt with you and even mock groping you, causing you to flinch away and spill one of their drinks that they laugh about as they insist you clean it up. And the grins on their faces when they lean over to watch you bend down to pick up the cup, hoping to get a glimpse of your ass in the skirt you're wearing today--oh, they both just want to throttle them, but Steve especially so. He may be fucking crusty as he nears his forties, but he's a lot bigger and a lot stronger than those jerks half his age.

The two of them just sit there and marinate in their own fury for awhile, but just when Steve's moving to get up out of his seat because he cannot fucking take another second of this bullshit, and he's mumbling that he's gonna teach those dickheads some goddamn respect--you've got your hand on his arm and you're holding him, clutching at the sleeve of his sweater with panic in your eyes.

"P-Please, Mr. Harrington, don't get in trouble," You whimper, trying not to let the feeling of his thick, firm biceps under your palms distract you. "I can deal with it, I promise. I-I'll make them quiet down, so you don't get a headache."

Oh, you don't even realize. The unexpected sweetness of you remembering such an insignificant detail about him actually makes Steve's heart jump, feels like it's the first time in ages since it's done that. It's baffling to each of them that you're more concerned about them, though--and there's that crack of mercy that forms then, that's slowly gonna get wider and wider as the two of them realize they don't just wanna tease you, they want you.

When you walk away, for once, Steve just stares down at his glass as he sips from it. Wondering how much money you would take from him to quit this shitty job today. Meanwhile, Eddie's worked up a glare to cast at the college kids that they definitely notice this time, their obnoxious laughter turned to head shifting and whispering as they wonder why that freak is staring so hard. The more he does it, the more unnerved they get, so he doesn't look away even when they make eye contact to try and ward him off. It would be a contest, if Eddie didn't produce a little pocket knife from his jacket, and start flipping it around without breaking his stare and without slicing a single cut into his fingers. And that seems to be enough for them to get over themselves and turn away to snap their fingers at you for the check, before filing out of the diner as a group and keeping up that threatened hush over them until they get outside. Then they're boisterous again, laughing and making ill-intentioned jokes about that weirdo perv as they get into their cars, because Eddie knows they're fucking scared of him. They wouldn't be so loudly claiming they weren't if that was really the truth.

Finally, when peace falls over the diner again, they watch you clear the plates and then scurry over to collect the check, and grimace when your shoulders visibly fall, the measly few pennies left over for your tip barely weighing down your hand. Yet you still count them in your palm, picking out a few bits of pocket lint from the pile because it was obviously thrown in half-assedly. Fucking pricks. Only a seriously sadistic group of assholes wouldn't tip their goddamn waitress.

"Honey, come here." You perk up at Steve's voice--how cute--and hurry towards their table, slipping the chump change into your apron pocket on the way. You nearly trip trying to get there in short time, but you stand up straight and smooth out your skirt once you're there, perched nearly on the balls of your feet as you wait for their command. "Closer."

As if on autopilot, your body moves to shuffle towards Steve's side of the booth, and you lean over so your face is closer even though you look more than a little nervous. Worried he's gonna do something bad? Gonna take advantage of you when you're already beat down?

"This is for you." The thick thumbful of cash he had ready gets pushed into your hand--he was gonna stuff it down your top for a laugh, but for some reason it makes its way right into your palm. He closes your hands over it so you won't see how much it is, but you can feel how much paper is unfurling even as it's tucked tightly inside your fist. Your little doe eyes widen, and you shake your head, your first reaction to try and give it back. Whether you don't think you deserve it, or you were raised to be polite and humble, either way it's too fucking sweet for him to resist, and he forces your hand to squeeze it tighter. "Don't get an ego. But, I'm....I'm proud of you."

"Are....are you kidding, Mr. Harrington?"

Oh, for fuck's sakes. Eddie's expression shifts like lightning into shock and concern, seeing you tremble and tear up at those simple words, and hearing your disbelief so strong in your shaky voice that you think it's just a joke.

"Christ, I-"

"One sec!" You suddenly dart away, the cash still clutched in your hand as you skid around the other tables in your way and run into the kitchen, the two of them hearing one of the cooks in the back reprimand you for rushing around, you're gonna slip! Thankfully, they don't hear those telltale crashes of dishware breaking or cutlery clattering to the floor, but the two of them are left wondering and looking at each other until you patter right back out with two plates in hand. They don't even notice what it is because they're too wrapped up in how big your smile is, cheeks still wet cause you didn't have a second to dry them, until you set down both plates in front of each of them and produce two forks.

It's a thick slice of cake for both men, Steve'a a vanilla flavour with lots of fresh strawberries piled on and drizzled around it, while Eddie has a hefty chunk of double-chocolate cake with enough frosting to give him diabetes. Both have a few sprinkles scattered messily around the smudged frosting and whipped cream, and the cake is moist if a little crumbly, but it so screams you that they're left looking back at you in awe.

"Dessert's on the house. I, um...I made it. Both of them. Gladys let me do the new desserts."

You fidget with your fingers anxiously as they each take their first bites, overwhelmed with fruit and sugar and cholesterol. It's so fucking great. Steve at least has some decorum as he swipes up the whipped topping and hums at realizing it's homemade, but you almost seem more eager to hear Eddie's almost piggish grunting as he stuffs his mouth full of cake, his lower lip smeared with chocolate that he's quick to wipe off with his thumb and suck clean. Only once they're eating do you think to rub your face dry, swiftly using the back of your hands to smooth out the streaks before your smile grows brighter.

"...Good?"

"Incredible," Eddie moans, and you try to hide your giggling. Steve wishes you wouldn't, he hasn't realized he's been staring until you turn to look at him, and he shoves another bite past his lips to cover it up. "You need to come cook at my place. Forget Harrington, he's got girls lining up to feed him."

"Shut up." He finally meets your eyes, the scowl nowhere near reaching his eyes as they run over your sweet, smiling face. "He's an idiot. Come use my kitchen anytime you want." It's not really until those sober thoughts hit your ears that Steve really realizes that he said them so bluntly, and in a bid to brush it off, he demands you bring them both a coffee to go with their cake.

"Mhm!" You hum, his stern tone not even making you flinch as you practically skip off to the kitchen to make them their drinks, your skirt flouncing up just enough that they can get a peek underneath if they dip their heads. They're a little too involved in their desserts to catch it, though, and Steve has a faraway look in his eyes as he picks a lone sprinkle off and eats it that has Eddie smirking.

"....Steeeevie-"

"I said shut up."

He mutters back, his voice soft and barely there like the words are just flimsy things to form it. The smile that turns up his lips as he stares at his plate can't be mistaken, though, the tines of his fork dragging little lines in the icing as he thinks about how happy you looked just now.

[junggunz]

taste test |🔞

cw: fem!reader | gun + degradation | goo + toys | samuel + cockwarming | choking | dacryphilia | overstimulation | orgasm denial | an: omg i finally got around to writing lookism smut :^)

──★ ˙ ̟GUN

You made the mistake of complaining about how Gun didn’t spend enough time with you. And his response to that was to spend the last two hours, fucking all of his pent up frustration into you. Knowing him, this was just the start of a very long evening with him. 

“I’m a very busy person, why can’t you get that through your fucking head?” Gun barks at you, long fingers wrapping around your neck and squeezing the sides as his hips snap against your ass. The lewd tacky sounds created by your sopping wet cunt fill in the silence where you would verbally respond to him if you currently had the mental capacity to do so. “Needy little whore, you should be thankful I even give you the time of day.” 

A pathetic whine is the only response you’re able to give him as he squeezes your throat harder as his thrusts turn feral, your body trying its absolute hardest to withstand the force. If it wasn’t for the hold Gun had on your throat, you’d probably have your face pressed into the sheets because your arms had already given out on you. The sheer size of Gun’s cock stretching you open made your toes go numb long ago; it was a miracle your legs were still supporting you.

Shifting his movements ever so slightly, Gun’s thick cock is pummeling into you deeper and stimulating your sweet spot causing tears to bead along your eyelashes as the pleasure increases by tenfold. The tears begin to come down your face in streams; gathering into a single large drop on your chin that lands on his hand. Releasing his grasp on your neck, his hold quickly moves to your hair and yanks your head back so he’s able to get a good look at your pitiful state.

“Cry all you want but I know this is exactly what you wanted.” Gun mutters while continuing to fill you with his length. “You love being my dumb little cock slut, don’t you?” 

You nod weakly in response to his question, moaning incessantly as you eagerly accept every ruthless and nasty thrust he delivers to you. With the tip of his cock consistently ramming into your g-spot, it takes practically no time to get your pussy to cream all over his length. 

As much as you wanted to thank him for how good he made you feel, he had truly fucked you dumb. 

──★ ˙ ̟GOO

“It’ll be fun, I promise.” 

Fun for him, maybe. But you, on the other hand, were not faring as well. 

Goo had come home early; catching you in the middle of testing out the wand massager he had gifted you. You had expected him to approach you aggressively, punishing you for playing without him; instead, he came to you sweetly offering to help you. But as you throw your head back on his shoulder while he sits behind you, holding the vibrating toy against your clit, you think you would have been better off receiving the rougher treatment. 

Your thighs are shaking as Goo keeps your legs spread open for him, drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you. The first two or three had been amazing, but you were now at a point where it was too hard to even think about keeping count. Eyes rolled far back into your head, your body is totally limp from the overwhelming sensation; only tensing up right before you cum again.  

“You made such a mess, sweetheart.” Goo murmurs in your ear, his eyes admiring the pool of wetness on the sheets beneath you. “So good for me, you ready for your reward?"

His words don’t even totally register in your fucked out mind, but you find yourself tiredly nodding in response to him anyway. Once you realize what he just said, it’s too late for you to even try to mentally prepare yourself as Goo swiftly rearranges you on your back, settling between your legs after stripping out of his clothes. He eases into you with barely any resistance due to how soaked your pussy is but the slight sting of having your walls be stretched out so much is still there and has you squirming beneath him.

Not even giving you any time to adjust, Goo starts to pound into your sensitive walls; making you cry out at the bliss of finally being filled. With how many times you had cum, it wouldn’t take much to send you over the edge again and Goo knows that. 

But it doesn’t matter how many times he made you cum; things were only over when Goo decided they were. 

──★ ˙ ̟SAMUEL

“Stop squirming so much.” Samuel warns you for the nth time of the evening as you are perched on his lap, his cock nestled deep inside of your leaking cunt. 

You were bored and he still had paperwork to do. This was the compromise you agreed on. But you didn’t account for how long he would take. 

“Can you hurry up?” You whine, not so subtly rolling your hips against his as an attempt to wear down his resolve. Clenching his jaw, he tears his attention away from the document he had been reading and sets it down on the desk in front of you before his hand lands a harsh smack on your inner thigh.

“Be good and sit still.” He speaks through his teeth, making his annoyance very clear to you but it only causes your walls to excitedly flutter around his cock; more of your arousal dribbling out of you and trailing down his length. As much as he wants to reprimand you for the action, every time he has to stop working just to scold you just makes it take longer for him to finish his current task at hand. 

Things go on like this for what feels like ages until Samuel finally snaps. All it took was you lifting up the front hem of your skirt, showcasing your soaked pussy stretched around his fat cock. He didn’t even know what made him look there in the first place; but a mere glance at the tantalizing sight was enough for all of his self control to crumble. 

Right when you were about to give up on trying to make Samuel give in, you feel him hooking his arms around your thighs, spreading your legs wider with his hands clasping together behind your head. The position is excruciating but you have no other choice but to endure it as Samuel holds you in place, giving you hard, shallow thrusts that stimulate your walls in all the right places. Your jaw falls slack as you keep crying out in bliss, becoming delirious from the way his cock stretches you out. 

“Don’t even think about cumming without permission, you’ve pissed me off enough.” Samuel growls from behind you, a small whine of protest leaving you as you had already felt the beginnings of an orgasm blooming in the pit of your stomach. However, the situation is hopeless; Samuel wouldn’t ease up on you and he wasn’t going to give in to any of your pleas. The only thing you could do was try to stave off your climax or else you would have to deal with Samuel’s wrath.

[z3nitsusgf]

what abt... pervy gorou?

cw: humping, panty stealing/sniffing, drool, degradation, masturbation (f. & m.), afab reader

• perv gorou really acts like a fucking dog, pins your hips to the edge of whatever surface he can find just so he can sniff and lap at your clothed cunt. doesn’t matter if you call it gross or embarrassing, he’s nosing your damp panties and flicking his tongue on your weepy clit.

• he loves humping you in any place that he can, pulling down your clothes so he can rut his cock between your thighs like he’s in heat. you two could be in public or just at home, but he’s always slipping his leaky cock in your thighs and whining when you drip over him. hugging you to him as he humps you.

• perv gorou loves making you messy, lapping your neck till you’re slathered in his saliva, nipping at it till you have ringed teeth marks up and down your skin. he likes how you squirm and yelp when he brushes his canines over your sensitive skin. not to mention cumming on your pussy, he loves spreading your folds with his fingers while he pumps his cock above you, spilling onto your folds. tells you, “oh you look so pretty with my cum.”

• can’t get enough of your scent, the true panty stealer! he’ll swipe your panties, your bras, your fucking skirts - everything he can get his grubby little paws on. he keeps them and sniffs them while he jerks off. moans and drools all over them, one pair pressed to his nose while the other is wrapped around his cock. he’ll cum in your panties just to get back to you and make you wear them again.

• gets riled up when you pull on his tail, you’d think it’d hurt him or make him angry - but gorou actually loves it (a little too much). purposely makes you irritated so you’ll tug on his tail, wrapping your fingers around the bushy fur and tug it till he arches up and practically barks with excitement. he’ll leak pre and hump the air if you pull hard on it, with enough tugs he’ll cum. “Please please do it again, I’m so close” he’ll beg you.

• perv gorou loves watching you fuck yourself. something about getting to see you push your fingers into your sloppy cunt and pant into his sheets makes him so feral. he’ll encourage you to use toys or to push yourself to your limit, cumming over and over. he adores how fucked out you get before he even gets his hands on you.

• absolutely loves when say mean things to him. call him gross and a bad boy for stealing your panties. sure, he’ll flush and go teary-eyed -but that’s all for show. gorou is getting hard in his fucking pants as the way you harp on him, biting his lip and resisting the urge to ask you to call him your slut. you do it anyways <3

[fayes-fics]

hello!! can I please get a drabble that takes place in the 70s with artist boho slut benedict x reader? thank you 🙈

Kinktober: Benedict + Chem / High Sex

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Paring: Benedict Bridgeton x fem!reader, Modern 1970s AU

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, use of recreational drugs, sexual acts while high/under the influence, 69 position, oral sex (m to f, f to m) blowjob and cunnilingus, facesitting, vaginal fingering, deepthroat.

Author’s note: hi Nonny. Well, this request immediately made me think of boho hippy artist Ben selling his art at a music festival and voila, a whole AU was born for me. Honestly, this universe was so fun I might write more in the future 😁 Anyway, I hope you enjoy! 🧡

You have a cock in your mouth when the drug kicks in. A corkscrew of colour swimming before your eyes has you pausing to make a noise of surprise, not just because of the fantastic suction around your clit.

“Holy shit….” you mumble, pulling up to take a breather.

“It kicked in, huh?” Benedict smirks as you look down between your legs to his handsome face.

“Yeah… fuckkkkk,” you stutter, unmoored.

This wasn't how you envisioned this music festival going, but damn, if you aren't having the time of your life.

Just an hour ago, you arrived as the sun set, still yet to find your friends, when you stumbled upon a stall selling captivating artwork. You felt utterly compelled to purchase a piece, even before you saw the beautiful, square-jawed, blue-eyed, topless man selling it.

Daisy chains looped into his wavy chestnut locks, flared jeans hanging dangerously low over an Adonis belt—a Grecian statue made flesh. By the time he informed you that he was indeed the artist and, after a few drinks, offered you a tab of something to “start your festival right”, you were already his.

And so here you now, in the back of his VW bus, windows concealed by vibrant tie-dyed fabrics, chemicals coursing in your bloodstream as you bring each other pleasure. Sitting naked upon his face, draped over his warm body, his cock in your mouth. A circuit of decadent, lush delight. And now….

Now, every feeling is heightened.

You dive back onto him with something approaching ferocity, savouring his silken but steely cock passing through your lips, each contour sparking synesthesia behind your eyelids. When his tongue ploughs deep into your pussy it ripples up your insides into your belly, settling as a fire behind your ribs. And when he sucks your clit, it’s as if you can trace the signal racing to your brain from those millions of afferent nerve endings.

Strains of music from the distant soundstage seep through the popped skylight above as his long, artistic fingers swirl patterns on the notches of your spine. His sinewy arms wrapped tight around your hips, encouraging you to use his face and tongue as if he were a vessel built purely for your enjoyment.

And fuck if he isn't—he tastes, embodies, and imbues hedonism. His skin is smooth and smells of citrus, earthy bark and charcoal. His cock is perfect, a delight that fills your mouth and makes your bones liquefy at the idea he might fuck you.

You spiral your tongue around his head in a tempo to match the tattoo his drums over your clit, all your concentration pinpointed on these mirrored movements, sinful unhurried sensualism. Luxuriating as if you have hours to spend together, with no destination in mind other than a memorable experience. 

When he buries two fingers inside you, your cry muffled around his cock, you can feel his smirk in the stubble abraiding your labia. Well, if he wants to notch things a little higher….

Mind looping with rainbows, you take a deep breath and sink until his cock is in your throat. The feral sound he makes hot against your clit like another drug you could get addicted to. He groans your praises, a hand straying into your hair to hold your head down, his plush lips snagging your engorged pearl as you hold still, images of colourful dancing bears before your eyes, each bearing his face contorted with ecstasy. Something about him makes you want to be the best he has ever had. Make him not want to leave your side; make him not want to get dressed ever again; just spend eternity entwined in your body.

You pull up, and then after a few deep sucking draws that have him groaning and begging, you sink down again, fighting the need to breathe, captivated by each novel new image your mind supplies. All the while, he tries to match you, lashing your clit, fingers drumming your g spot as the other wraps your ponytail around his fist. When you whimper around him, his sac tightens against your nose.

“Fuck, I'm going to come,” he growls in warning, yet still you stay, knowing what is coming and craving it.

A pulse runs the length of his cock, and then you feel it, a thick salty rope shooting right into your throast that tastes like victory and desire. You suck and swallow all you can as you pull up, needing to breathe, and as he sings your praises, you nuzzle him, licking him clean as if it was the tastiest treat in the world.

“Your turn,” his warning glittering and smokey with promise. 

It's then you experience your first orgasm high on drugs. Your body on fire as he expertly suckles, swirls, and even bites your swollen, soaked flesh, fingers buried deep in your leaking pussy, like he lives only for your nectar and rapture.

“You taste like heaven,” he groans, as you keep kissing his cock while it softens, something for you to wrap your lips around, to muffle your screams as he pushes you towards heights you have never scaled. Hyperaware of everything: sounds, smells, his touch, the sight of him pinned under you, so very eager to please. You reach out and grab his hand, lacing your fingers together tightly just as you tumble over the edge. 

Fireworks, lightning, strobe lights, all multicoloured, going off in your mind as you float high above as if an untethered balloon, at once a million miles away and yet also rooted so deep in your body, feeling everything in every nerve, every cell, every synapse fire. 

He moves behind you as you collapse to one side, breathlessly panting, mind adrift, curling up almost foetal, overloaded by everything. Wrapping his warm body like a protective shell around you, his nose buried in your hair, his arms caging you, his legs bracketing yours.

“That was transcendent. Truly magical,” he murmurs, dazed, and you have to agree.

No taglist as these drabbles are short

[cowgurrrl]

Chosen to Deserve

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (plus platonic!Ellie Williams x fem!reader)

Summary: “How can I teach her some way of being human that won’t destroy her? I would like to tell her, Love is enough, I would like to say, Find shelter in another skin. I would like to say, Dance and be happy. Instead I will say in my crone’s voice, Be ruthless when you have to, tell the truth when you can, when you can see it.” - Margaret Atwood [3.6k]

Warnings: all the drama of coming into Jackson, sibling turmoil, talks of Sarah and Jane, arguing, reader and Joel are both kinda dicks in this one but I get it

You hear the horses hooves before Joel can. You grab Ellie's arm and turn to run in the opposite direction when another masked person on a horse comes running up. At least a dozen of them flanking you on both sides and they all have weapons pulled. You don't even try to reach for your gun, and Joel does the same, pushing Ellie and you behind him and raising his hands. You and Ellie follow suit but keep her close enough for your hands to brush against each other. Her breathing is uneven and scared. Joel and one of the men have a conversation, but you can't focus on it. All you care about is Ellie. The man Joel was talking to gestures his gun at her.

"Take five steps back."

"She's not going anywhere." You say, and Joel mumbles your name. 

"Shut the fuck up." The man spits.

"Easy," Joel jumps in. You don't know whether he's talking to you or the horseman, but you glare at him anyway. He ignores it and looks past you at Ellie, nodding at her. "You'll be okay." He says. She looks at you for confirmation, and your jaw clenches, but you nod at her scared eyes.

"Do what they say." You say gently, and she carefully takes several steps back. You turn your head to watch her, but a gun cocking turns your attention back to the people surrounding you. The man who told you to shut the fuck up is staring at you through squinted eyes, his shotgun pointed in your direction. You get the message. But she's too far away. You can't even see her in the corner of your eye. You want to grab her wrist and bring her back to you, but you don't move. The man whistles, and a dog appears out of nowhere. You can't remember the last time you saw a dog that wasn't feral. 

"Last chance for a bullet," he says. "If you've been infected, he'll smell it, and he'll rip you apart." The dog barks and thrashes against the leash, and you hear Ellie gasp in fear. Goddammit, you think as the dog slinks over to Joel, smelling his shoes. There's no way out. You're too slow, and there are too many guns. You'd barely get your hands on your weapon before they'd kill you. 

The dog jumps up on Joel and rears her head back. No one shoots. It must be her clear signal. The dog is called back before she's rereleased, this time to smell you. She repeats the action, and your shoulders drop. 

"Satisfied?" You ask, and Joel says your name again like he's scolding you. 

"One more." The man says as he rereleases the dog. She starts walking toward Ellie, and your heart beats in your face. You can hear her feet shuffling backward in the snow, and the dog growls at her. Your ears ring as you wait for the dog to knock her to the ground or worse. A bark pierces the air, and Joel jolts with the sound, but Ellie's laugh stops you from running toward her. You turn and see her giggling in the snow with the dog licking her face, completely safe. The dog is called back, and Ellie makes her way back to you. Nobody cocks a gun or yells at her to stop. 

"You just bought yourself ten more seconds," the man says. "What are you doing out here?"

"I'm just lookin' for my brother," Joel says. A woman makes her horse walk forward, and you tuck Ellie behind you. 

"I'm okay." She whispers, but you don't say anything. You just watch Joel and the woman. She asks his name, and he tells her. She turns back to the man who yelled at you and says something you can't quite hear. 

"Lower your weapons!" The woman yells. No one even flinches or tries to question her. They just do it. "We're taking them back with us." 

In a few minutes, you're each given a horse and are told to follow the group. The journey "back" to wherever they're leading you takes about ten minutes, and the massive fort-like gate leaves you speechless. Joel glances back at you and Ellie and raises his eyebrows as if to say, "getta loada this shit." You shake your head and glance at Ellie, who has a ghost of a smirk on her lips. 

Once you're through the gate, a small city reveals itself. There are people. Like, lots of people. None of them show weapons or look up when you pass. You even see small kids chasing each other with pink cheeks and too-big hats. You can't look at them for too long. There are stores full of food and warm clothes, shoemakers, fucking ironsmiths. You almost think you've fallen into an alternate dimension. You and Joel seem to land on the same person as you get further into town.

He has long curly hair and a dark mustache though he has the same patches Joel has in his beard. They hold themselves the same way, you realize. Like there's too much weight on their backs, but they're doing their best to hold it anyways. He looks good. Healthy. Definitely not in whatever danger you and Joel thought he was in the whole time. Joel calls his name, and Tommy comes bounding down the scaffolding and into his older brother's arms. It's sweet and, by the looks of it, desperately needed by both of the men. 

You turn to look at Ellie and see her looking a little lost and the tiniest bit jealous as she watches the teary reunion. You nudge her with your elbow and mouth, "What a baby" to get her to smile. She gives you a small one but falls back into her pensiveness. You slide off your horse to shake Tommy's hand and introduce yourself.

"And this is Ellie," you say, gesturing to Ellie. She smiles and waves but doesn't get off her horse. 

"Y'all hungry?" Tommy asks, and that gets Ellie's attention. She finally comes down to the ground, and you all walk to the dining hall. 

It's the first hot meal you've had in months. You do your best not to scarf the food down like you want to and keep your manners around Tommy and Maria. Ellie, however, doesn't really care. Joel tries to correct her, and you give him a look. 

What? His raised eyebrows ask.

Leave her alone. You jerk your head in her direction.

Look at her. He widens his eyes.

Stop. You roll your eyes and look at Tommy with a smile.

"So, how long have you been in Jackson?" You ask, and he takes a deep breath.

"Uh, a few years now. I bounced around for a while before settlin' here." He says with a soft smile that reminds you of early mornings with Joel. You have to look away. 

"Ma'am, we're grateful for your hospitality and all, but it'd be nice to have a moment here just for family," Joel says, looking at Maria pointedly. You elbow him in the ribs, and he gives you another look. 

"What?" He hisses.

"You're being rude." You whisper. 

"You fuckin' hit me."

"Actually, uh..." Tommy says, reaching for Maria's left hand to bring the matching wedding rings to your attention for the first time. "Maria is family."

It's been a long day. You haven't seen Joel since he and Tommy disappeared into the bar this afternoon. Maria showed you and Ellie an available house you can stay in for the entirety of your time in Jackson, however long. She's been nice to Ellie, but she's made it clear she doesn't care for you or Joel. You're sure she's heard stories from Tommy about Joel and, therefore, can make assumptions about you. Still, she hasn't said anything explicit to you. You expect there to be a fight, though. There's no way there won't be one. 

After you take showers and put down your heavy packs, Maria silently takes you to watch a movie in the same place you ate lunch. About halfway through, you glance at Ellie, settled in a chair, and decide to sneak out to the general store for supplies. It takes longer than you thought it would, but you find a new hat and gloves for Ellie. It'll be worth it for when you have to get back on the road. You’re excited to show her but she’s locked in her room when you returned to the house. You try getting her to talk to you, but she doesn’t even open the door. She just yells at you to ask Joel.

"Do you wanna tell me why Ellie is sulking in her room?" You ask as you turn the corner and walk into what used to be the primary bedroom. You find him sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. 

"We got in a fight," he grumbles, pulling his head out of his hands to look at you. "Doesn't matter. Tommy's takin’ her to the Fireflies in the morning."

"What?" You ask. What the fuck did they talk about while they were alone? 

"She'll be safer with him. Tommy knows Jackson better than anybody. It's better this way."

"I'm sure his pregnant wife would disagree with you."

"Don't start with that."

"This isn't Tommy's fight, and you know that. He doesn't even know about her and-"

"I told him," he says. You blink at him as you try to wrap your brain around what he just said. Anger rolls through you. It wasn't his place to tell Tommy without consulting you first. He can't keep making decisions about her without talking to you. "I told him everythin’, and he agreed to do it. Said it would take him a few days, but he would be fine."

"You're serious." It's meant to be a question, but it sounds more like a statement. His eyes are heavy as he nods. 

"We were gonna go our separate ways soon enough."

"You promised Tess."

"I said a lot of shit I didn't mean," he snaps. "You should go with 'em if you think it's so unsafe. I'm sure they could use the extra hands."

"And what're you gonna do?"

"Go back to Boston and forget this ever happened." He says without hesitation. The implication that you would be on his list of things to forget hits somewhere deep in your chest. You start pacing, unsure of what to do with the buzzing behind your molars.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Joel, really? You got into a fight with a fourteen-year-old, and now you're gonna hightail it back to Boston? Just like that?" You scoff, and he stands from his place on the bed, getting in your face. You square your shoulders in a silent dare. 

"She brought up Sarah." 

"And Jane," you say. "And Tess. And Bill and Frank. And Sam and Henry. You really wanna keep going? Because I can play this game all day."

"Tommy is takin' her to the Fireflies. End of story." He tries, and you squint at him. 

"Oh, so you're abandoning her with someone else because it's more convenient for you? Sounds real familiar." 

"Fuck you."

"Fuck me? I'm not the one going back to Boston because I'm afraid of a kid." 

"It ain't about her. It's about Tommy-"

"Knowing this area better. I get it. But you know what he doesn't know? Ellie," you say. He wavers, stepping back a little, but you don't let him go that easy. "He doesn't know how to take care of her like you do. We've been traveling with her for six fucking months, and now you just want to dump her on someone else because it's hard? Because she brought up your kid? Huh?" You ask, but he doesn't say anything. He just stares past your face. "She's fourteen, Joel. Her job is to push your buttons just to see what comes out. She takes her anger out on you because she trusts you to handle it. She trusts you. We both do. But I swear to God, Joel, if you do this..." You're not sure what threat you wanted to tack onto the end of that sentence, but it dies in your throat. Your chest is pressed against his, and your breathing is ragged. You step away, finally, and make for the door. 

Originally, you were going to sleep in bed with him. He even joked about it when Maria mentioned something about the house before you split off. Now, you'll sleep on the fucking couch if you have to. You're angry. You should be slamming doors and stomping down the stairs, but your hand lingers on the doorknob for some reason. You turn back to him. 

"D'you really think you're the only person who hurts when you look at her?" You ask. "She... she is everything Jane will never be. I know that. But she's not Jane. And she's not Sarah. She's Ellie, and she needs help. If you can't handle that, then fine. Go back to Boston, but don't blame a kid for something you can't face." 

Joel is gone by the time you wake up. No note. No goodbye. Nothing. He even made the bed, so there'd be absolutely no proof he was ever here. You want to fight with him again. You want to yell at each other until you figure it out or come to a place of understanding. You want him to want to figure it out with you. But the world has never been kind enough to care about what you want. So, you brush your teeth, wash your face, and push thoughts of Joel away. You have to get her to the Fireflies safely. One of you should fulfill the promise you made Tess. 

When Tommy arrives on the doorstep with a sympathetic look and a rifle slung over his shoulder, you smile softly at him before opening the door wider. He shuts the door behind him as you move to the living room and pull your boots on. He walks over and plays with the blanket swung over the back of the couch. 

"You know, there are beds upstairs." He says, and you nod. 

"Joel and I got into a fight." You say. He's married. He should know how it goes.

"Seems to be a recurring theme with him." 

"Yeah," you finish tying your bootlaces and sit back to look at him. "You really don't have to do this, you know."

"I know. I just... feel like I owe him," he shrugs, the rifle moving with his shoulders, and you sigh. "Plus, Maria's already mad at me bout it. Might as well finish it."

"Both the Miller men seem to be battin' a thousand this week." You laugh. There's movement upstairs, and you take a deep breath. Tommy reaches out and squeezes your shoulder, and you let him. In the twenty-four hours you've known him, you've realized Tommy is gentler, softer than Joel is. Still, Joel told you the stories of how the hot desert sun beat down on Tommy's baby face as he held a gun bigger than him. You know he's just as dangerous as Joel. You just wish Joel bore it as well as Tommy does. 

"I should go talk to her." You mumble as you stand. He nods and wishes you good luck before walking up the stairs toward Ellie's room. 

A closed door has never been as ominous as this one. You push through the pit of dread in your stomach and knock on the wood, only opening it when you receive a response. Then, like watching fall leaves, you watch her shoulders drop in disappointment. She thought—no, hoped— you were Joel. You walk over and sit next to her on the window seat, putting a hand on her knee and squeezing affectionately. You sit like that for a moment before Ellie frowns at you.

"I really thought he would change his mind." She whispers.

"Yeah, me too." You whisper back. She purses her lips and shakes her head like she's scolding herself for getting her hopes up. You squeeze her again, but she doesn't say anything. She just gets up, throws her backpack over her shoulders, and trudges down the stairs. You sigh and look up at the ceiling, racking your brain for the best way to turn her mood around before following her. 

The walk to the stables is silent. You're each trying to settle into this new dynamic, but none of you like it. That seems to be the only thing clear about this whole situation. As you walk through the horse stalls, Tommy tells you something about the distance or the terrain or something. You lose track when you see Joel saddling up the horse you were coming to get.

"You came here to say goodbye or something?" Ellie snaps, but Joel doesn't even turn from what he's doing.

"No. I came here to steal one of these horses and go." His voice is strained, like he's been crying. Had he been crying? In the years you've known Joel Miller, you've never seen him cry. 

"I woulda gave you one." Tommy chimes in, and Joel nods.

"I know," he says, finally looking at the three of you. His eyes linger on yours before he looks down at his boots again. "Anyway, that was thirty minutes ago, and I guess..." he trails off and starts walking to Ellie. "You deserve a choice. I still think you'd be better off with Tommy-"

"Let's go." Ellie cuts him off, shoving her bag into his chest with enough force to make him stumble. You fight a smile as you glance between them. This, you think. This is how it's supposed to be. 

"Okay," Joel says. Ellie walks past him and to the horse, petting his nose and whispering sweet things. Tommy and Joel share a look of understanding before his eyes flick to yours. "D'you mind givin' us a minute?" He asks Tommy, and he shakes his head. He takes the horse Joel saddled up and Ellie outside before walking to the back of the barn to get another one ready. The air between you is thick as you stare at him, the dried tear marks on his cheeks catching the light, and you should be mad at him. You should curse at him and push him, but you don't. 

"You made Ellie really happy." You say instead. He nods and takes a step into you. 

"Only Ellie?" He rasps. You take a deep breath and press your tongue into your cheek, fighting the impulse to make a snarky comment. He can see the struggle and smirks devastatingly at you.

"I'm happy," you say. He takes another step closer, his chest hitting flush against yours, and you breathe in the mint toothpaste he used this morning. His lips ghost over yours, but you pull back and look at him intently before he can kiss you. "If you ever make me yell at you like that again, I will make your life a living hell, Miller."

"Promise?" He asks, a teasing lilt to his voice, and you raise your eyebrows at him. "I'm sorry for bein' a dick. I should've listened to you from the start. I'm sorry," he mumbles as he kisses you. "'M sorry." Kiss. "'M sorry." Kiss. "'M sorry." He trails down your neck, whispering apologies into your skin. You tilt your head to give him a little more room, relishing in the scratch of his beard against your pulse, when you hear Ellie's voice from outside. You slap his shoulder to get his attention, but he doesn't move. 

"Cool it, cowboy. There are kids around." You say, and he chuckles.

"Kid," he corrects. "And she's not payin' attention." He says, lifting his head to kiss your lips again. It feels like it's been forever since you've had a moment like this with him, probably since before Tess died. Still, he tastes familiar, and the press of his lips against yours is a comfort. You indulge in it for a few more seconds before pulling away.

"We have to go." You whisper, your voice wrecked from the effect he has on you, and he groans.

"Okay, okay." He relents, prying himself from you, but you catch his wrist before he can get far.

"I'm serious about what I said. I don't wanna feel like I did last night ever again." You say, and he presses his lips into a line before intertwining your fingers.

"I'm sorry for the fight. For bein' a dick. Everything. I'll do anything I can to never do that to you or Ellie ever again, okay?" He says. Reluctantly, you nod and decide to forgive him. You don't have time to be mad at him, and there's nothing you can do to change the past. You can only keep moving forward.

"Okay," you agree. "But Ellie deserves an apology, too." 

"Of course." He agrees easily. It's the least friction you've ever had while talking to him. You smile and kiss him one more time before you two walk out to where Ellie and Tommy are waiting with two saddled-up horses. The brothers bid each other a private goodbye, and you thank him for everything. He gives you directions as Joel pulls Ellie up on the horse to settle behind him, and you listen, too, in case Joel forgets something. 

Then, as quietly as you arrived, you leave Jackson and its inhabitants for whatever the Fireflies have in store for you three. 

[rabbitsrams]

ur schlatt x tummy!reader made me FERAL.. what about reader who loves schlatts tummy and thighs!!

anon. you read my mind. oh my god.

because yes. you absolutely adore his body. no questions asked.

you always like to put a hand on his thighs especially if he's sitting down. his skin is so soft and so squishy aaaaa you can't get enough ):

laying your head on his thighs <3333 omg <3333

"you comfortable down there?"

"always."

wanting to sit on his lap all the time just bc you wanna be closer to him <3 and also just bc his thighs are so nice under you <3

i could write a whole essay about how obsessed you are with his tummy bc.........

you love grabbing it :) like it's just so pretty!! and squish!! and so uniquely him <3

reaching underneath his shirt just to feel it barking furiously

you love laying on his chest too, it's so comfortable <3 tracing little patterns all over his pecs and downward, leaving a hand on his tummy when you fall asleep and him placing his hand over yours. omg.

it makes him feel so good seeing you loving his body :( like :(

j schlatt you are the prettiest man on the planet im so serious.

QUICK APPRECIATION POST FOR HOW HE LOOKS IN THAT SUIT!! GOD he's so stunning wearing that omg like he fills it out so nicely and you just love it whenever he wears it for a fancy streamer event or whatever <3

(mind always goes to THAT gamersupps ad cuz UGH)

grabbing his tie and placing a hand on his chest and he's just putty in your hands.

always asking for your approval whenever he dresses up in different garb than his usual sweatshirt/shorts and you always have to tell him he looks so good <3 bc he does <3

his biceps his biceps his biceps :D (im a biiiiig biceps gal so ofc i obsess unhealthily over them akdfjfjfng)

you always find some excuse to grab them and squeeze, they're just so grabbable and lovely and im lovesick okay. i love arms and i love his arms <3 and when he wears tighter t-shirts? woof. ur done for.

also u love how broad his shoulders are, naturally. idk how to explain it but ughhhh he's so BIG. and it's EVERYTHING TO you. you love it so much <3

this last part's for my fellow plus-sized besties btw

tummies touching when you hug <333333 oh my god i just need it so bad a hug from that man would fix me fr

anyway yeah alexa play that i need a big boy song by sza <3 need him so badly.

[captain-hawks]

trace the outlines of your dreams

jean kirstein x f!reader

summary: Jean saves you in the midst of a bloody battle, and in the aftermath, you both figure out some important things—the impending end of the world be damned. [set during episode 85]

word count: 4.9k

content: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, best friends to lovers speed run, unrequited love? jk its requited, blood + injuries, protective jean, but UNprotected sex, rough sex, jean's big dick, fingering, praise kink, dry humping, light dom!jean vibes, creampie

In the years that have passed since you first joined the Scout Regiment, you’ve imagined a thousand different ways you might possibly die while bearing the weight of that damned winged insignia on your chest.

A thousand ways you’d go down fighting tooth and nail, bloody and battered but with the knowledge that, at the very least, you’d tried to help make a difference.

But after all this time, you still hadn’t thought you’d make your last stand here of all places: cornered in the narrow space between two looming buildings by three of your former comrades—now Jaegerists—struggling to stand on your own two feet and virtually defenseless. 

They advance on you slowly, snickering as your smashed ODM gear refuses to cooperate, not any sort of state to function after how hard you were tackled against the unforgiving brick building mid-air just moments ago. Your gear absorbed a decent amount of the blow, enough for all of the important bits to be irreparably damaged, but not before your head took a hit as well. Warm blood drips down your face, and you blink hard against the wave of dizziness that threatens to overcome your senses. 

The futile step you attempt to take backward has you gritting your teeth, ankle barking in pain, protesting that you’re asking any more of it after the impact your legs took when you landed on the dusty gravel. You consider calling out for the others, but you know they’ll never hear you over the chaos of the battle that’s unfolding, the roar of the Titans reverberating deep in the marrow of your bones. 

Maybe you’ve finally run out of your share of borrowed time. 

The Jaegerists continue to close in on you, snickering at the way you try to steel yourself even in the face of oncoming death, and your mind goes quiet for a moment as you let it settle on one last thought—you hope that if nothing else, Jean lives to see this through to the very end.

He deserves the quiet life he’s always wanted. 

“Oh, it’s you.”

A shudder runs down your spine as a voice full of disdain sends your attention careening back to the present. 

Floch.

The Jaegerists hastily sidestep as the red-haired man swiftly pushes his way between them, blood that you’re certain doesn’t belong to him smearing across his brow as he runs a hand through his hair and offers you a grin that’s downright feral. With a dismissive wave of his hand, his comrades take their leave back to the roof and into the fray of battle. 

“I was upset when I realized that you left me, you know,” he drawls, reaching out to brush his thumb over your jaw.

Your stomach roils, and Floch clicks his tongue when you turn away from his touch, firmly grasping your chin. You can feel the warm, sticky blood his fingers leave in their wake as he continues, “I had a feeling Jean might betray me. But you? How could you?”

The rough feeling of brick digs into your shoulders as he crowds you against the wall of the building, his breath hot against your face. 

Floch was always a little too interested in you, even before things really started to go to hell. At least that’s what Jean always grumbled, anyway. So when you finally, briefly, deigned to give him the time of day, if only to help your fellow comrades pull one over on the Jaegerists before making a run for it, you should have known the volatile man would be anything but forgiving when he realized you’d been batting your eyes and swaying your hips to distract him.

“Get your hands off of me, Floch,” you growl, the anger flaring up inside of you at odds with the rapid, terrified beating of your heart.

Floch blatantly ignores you, choosing instead to run a finger over your bottom lip, and the coppery tang of blood seeps into your mouth. You stifle the urge to gag, knowing how badly he wants you to flinch. 

“It’s a bit sad…how you’ve always followed Jean like a loyal little lap dog. Waiting and waiting for him to notice you, too fucking stupid to realize he’s obviously in love with Mikasa.”

His words hit you like a slap to the face.

Your knees threaten to give out beneath you under the weight of a truth you know you can’t look away from. Not now that someone’s finally said it out loud. 

You really hadn’t thought it would end like this—with a whimper.

“We could have had something, you and I,” he rasps, leaning in so close that his lips nearly brush over yours. “If only you weren’t so busy drooling over Kirstein’s dick.”

“I would have never picked you, Floch. Not now, not ever,” you whisper, eyes boring into his with one last shred of defiance as the world beneath your feet begins to ripple, your body feeling the effects of the blood loss from your head wound.

Something dark flashes in Floch’s eyes. “Kirstein probably won’t even realize you’re gone when I’m done with you. What a shame.”

You suck in a breath as he reaches a hand down to grasp a blade, willing your body to rally just enough strength to surge forward and tackle him. At the very least, you could go down with a fight. 

…but when the quiet, familiar whine of a wire and the deliberate crunch of boots along gravel is followed by the one voice that you know the cadence of by heart, you realize that you won’t have to. 

“Get your fucking hands off of her.”

A blade gleams at Floch’s neck as Jean Kirstein steps up behind him, your best friend’s eyes burning with rage. You can’t help the sob that rips from your throat when his expression softens ever so slightly when he steals a glance over at you, though his jaw ticks when he notices the smear of blood the other man left behind on your face. 

For all Jean’s hesitation about this leg of the mission, his uncertainty about his ability to take the lives of his brainwashed comrades, you know that he’ll kill Floch right here and right now. You can see it in his posture, the utter stillness of his body. The way this entire moment feels utterly frozen in time as Floch realizes it, too. 

And even if part of you wants it, wants to live out whatever’s left of what might be your final days knowing that Floch finally got what was coming to him, you know it’s not worth the risk. Not when shouts have begun to ring out from your friends, urging everyone to get to the ship. Not when you know Jean will hold the other man back with his bare hands so you can escape without him, if that’s what it comes down to. 

So it’s the subtle shake of your head that determines Jean’s next move, one that doesn’t involve his blade and Floch’s throat. Instead, with nothing but the element of surprise on your side, Floch is blindsided by the foot you drive between his legs with all your might, white-hot pain blooming from your ankle at the impact. The moment that he drops down onto one knee, groaning, is all that Jean needs to pull you to him. 

“Jean,” you choke out, his name caught somewhere between a gasp and a sob as you collapse into him and fist your hands in his shirt, clinging to him like a lifeline.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, protectively wrapping one arm around you as he engages his ODM gear and carries you both toward the docks. And despite all of the chaos unraveling all around you, you swear that you can feel Jean’s heart pounding in his chest just as hard as your own. 

The next few hours after you set off to sea are a blur, your body still shaking with adrenaline as various sets of hands examine your injuries. Everything feels a little fuzzy around the edges, and the most you can really register is the warm press of Jean against you all the while and the tickle of his hair along your cheek each time he growls at someone to be gentle when you groan in pain as they clean and dress your wounds. 

It’s dark out when you finally come to, the fog in your mind parting as you wake up to find your limbs tangled in a scratchy wool blanket. You sit up, the thin mattress creaking beneath you, and rub at your eyes as they adjust to the dim lighting in the room. A small lantern sits perched on a table nearby, illuminating a cup that you can only hope contains water. Exhaling a quiet sigh of relief when you tentatively place it to your lips and confirm your suspicions, you drink heavily, only pausing at the sound of footsteps scuffing outside of the doorway.

“There’s another open room next to Conny’s,” you hear Armin say.

“She’s staying with me,” Jean’s voice cuts in, brokering no room for argument. 

You put the cup down and settle back onto the bed, watching as the sliver of light from the outline of the door grows when Jean carefully steps into the room, pushing it shut again behind him. 

When he realizes you’re sitting up, he swiftly crosses the room, coming to sit beside you on the mattress.

“You’re up,” he exhales, sounding relieved.

You offer him a small smile, hyper aware of the way his knee brushes against yours, heartbeat thundering when he reaches out to tilt your chin toward him. Vaguely, you wonder if you’re dreaming. 

“Your head finally stopped bleeding,” he comments, eyeing the bandage on your head. 

Right.

Mentally kicking yourself, you meet his gaze, willing your voice to stay steady as you say, “Thanks for saving me, Jean.”

One of his hands finds its way to your leg, fingers softly curling over your knee. “You know I always will,” he murmurs, echoing the promise he’d made to you years ago when you both joined the Scout Regiment. 

In another life, maybe that version of you would be selfish enough to grasp Jean by his collar and kiss him right here and now for those words, pretending you misunderstood their meaning. Words that could mean so much more in another context, were it not for the stark line of demarcation between your feelings for him and the reality of your friendship. 

Maybe you’d climb into his lap and try to make him forget all about her.

Even just for one night.

“I feel like you shouldn’t be thinking so hard after splitting your head open,” Jean comments with a chuckle when he observes your furrowed brows, gently pressing his fingertips to your temple as his attention shakes you from your thoughts.

“Sorry, it’s just been a long day,” you lie, feigning a stretch for good measure.

Jean drops his hand back down to his side as you shift, looking sheepish. “Long week, long year. You’re telling me. I think we both need a vacation.”

You snort, finally willing yourself to ask, “How’s Mikasa?”

Jean tilts his head to the side at the question, eyes narrowing a bit. “She’s fine. Armin’s a little worse for wear, but he’ll heal up soon.”

You nod, turning your gaze to the corner of the room. “You don’t need to stay in here with me tonight if you want to go and keep her company. I’ll be okay.”

Your best friend looks nothing short of perplexed at the clear insinuation in your words. “...why would I do that?”

“Because you…” you trail off, not sure why it’s so hard to verbalize Jean’s crush to his face.

Jean’s fingers brush along your cheek, urging you to look at him. “I what?”

You huff in annoyance, not sure why he’s making you say it outloud. “You and Mikasa…”

“There’s no ‘me and Mikasa’,” he says plainly. 

Heart thundering in your chest, you glare at him before looking up at the ceiling in embarrassment and exasperation. “And there’s not ever going to be if you don’t get it together and tell her how you feel before we all die here.”

Jean clicks his tongue against his teeth, and your entire body goes still at the sudden feeling of his hot breath caressing the shell of your ear, “But she’s not the person I’ve been too much of a coward to tell how I feel.”

What?

“What?” you breathe out, whipping around to face him, the air swiftly leaving your lungs when you realize just how close he is, the tip of your nose brushing against his own.

Jean’s thumb traces your lower lip. “It’s always been you.”

At a loss for words, all you can manage to get out is, “Why now?”

“I used to hope you’d find someone that’d convince you to leave the Scouts and live a safe life behind the walls, something I couldn’t give you.”

Your heart aches at that, knowing that’s the life Jean always wanted, too. The one he left behind knowing how selfish it would be to waste the talent he could offer to the Scouts.. 

And perhaps it makes sense now—the way he’d subtly tried to find ways to hint that maybe you shouldn’t join the Regiment after all, all those years ago. The conflicted look of pain in his eyes the first time you’d proudly worn the Wings of Freedom.

“I didn’t think I could ever be enough to deserve you,” he continues. “Not even now.”

Hearing the uncertainty in Jean’s voice throws you off-kilter; it’s a far cry from the confident man you know him to be. You can’t help but offer him an incredulous look in return, baffled by the irony of it all—he’s the only person you care to spend the rest of your life with, after all. 

Even if this is all you have left—these last few days, hours, moments. 

A choked out sound leaves Jean’s mouth; apparently you said that out loud. “So you’re telling me…”

He cups the back of your head, eyes searching your face.

“...I should have done this…”

His other hand finds yours, fingers lacing together.

“...a long time ago.”

A shudder crawls down your spine at the feeling of Jean’s lips brushing atop your own. It’s a tentative touch, one that you press back into between one breath and the next. And as you sigh against his mouth, your own fingers reaching up to tangle in his hair, Jean stops holding back.

Legs hanging over the edge of the bed, Jean swiftly pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapped tightly around you as his lips chase yours with fervor. You straddle him, basking in the warmth of his body heat pressing into your own, savoring the rough press of the calluses on his fingers—built up from years of using the ODM gear—as he explores the expanse of bare skin on your back where your shirt has bunched up.

You can hardly be bothered to break for air as Jean’s lips slot against yours, toes curling against the mattress when he licks his way inside of your mouth. He groans as the kiss grows messier, your body arching into his at the feeling of his tongue tangling with your own. 

Once upon a time, you’d exclaimed that nothing could compare to the feeling of finally mastering the ODM gear, the exhilarating rush of clearing rooftops and treelines with such seamless precision. The swelling elation in your chest to finally understand what it feels like to fly.

It’s a feeling that you’ve chased for years, the feeling that’s carried you through each and every battle to this day.

Kissing Jean feels like that—like flying.

But there’s no anchor here. No wires. No blades at your hips nor enemies at your back.

With Jean’s lips on yours, you float untethered, the weight on your shoulders and heaviness of your heart long forgotten passengers left far below as you soar. 

And you let go, freefalling. Knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’ll catch you. 

He’ll always catch you.

Jean’s lips part from yours to blaze a hot trail along the curve of your jaw, pressing kisses along your neck. Dragging his teeth along the sensitive skin where your earlobe meets the hinge of your jaw, his voice is rough as he murmurs, “I love you.”

There’s a hitch in his breath when you say it back without hesitation—it’s a truth you’ve always known yourself to feel, even if you could never tell him as much. He pulls you impossibly closer, fingers digging into your hips, mouth seeking yours out once more.

And as you feel his growing hardness beneath you, you can’t help but pointedly rock into the cradle of his lap, a breathy moan leaving you at the pressure of his cock rubbing against you. The sensation and Jean’s own answering moan draw up memories of all the nights you spent imagining this, face buried against your pillow to muffle the sounds as you fingered yourself to thoughts of your best friend right there in your bed in the barracks. 

If your lives still held any semblance of normalcy, maybe you’d prolong this endeavor, taking your time to savor the taste of Jean’s mouth on your own first before anything else, exploring him in bits and pieces. 

But with what may very well be the end of the world looming far too close for comfort, there’s no time for patience. 

“Can I…do you want to…?” Jean trails off, breathing heavily as his fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, the rest of the question dancing in his eyes as he’s clearly having the same thoughts as you are. 

“Jean Kirstein, if I die without fucking you—”

He doesn’t give you the chance to finish your sentence, cutting you off with a kiss as his hands find their way to your breasts. He’s barely begun to squeeze them before you break apart from him for a moment, slipping off your top and tossing it halfway across the room before grabbing for his shirt as well. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Jean breathes out once you pull his shirt over his head, pausing to take in the sight of your supple breasts before him, running a thumb across one of your peaked nipples. 

His mouth quirks upward at the way you shiver in response to his touch, eyes blazing with hunger when your lips part, silently begging for more. Jean leans in, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, and you thread your fingers into his hair, urging him to continue as he shamelessly begins to suckle at the sensitive bud. 

You’re helpless to deny your body’s need to grind down onto Jean’s bulge, your folds pressing into your slick, damp underwear with each thrust of your hips. His lips slide away from your breasts so he can sink his teeth into your shoulder, muffling the feral groan that rumbles in his chest in response to the way you’ve desperately begun to dry hump his cock. 

Fingers trail along the waistband of your pants, flicking them open with ease to gain access to the soft, white cotton panties beneath. Jean nips his way up your neck, pausing to suck at your pulse point as he asks, “Are you wet for me?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer as he slips a hand into your underwear, a strangled “oh” the only sound he’s able to offer for a moment once he realizes you’re fucking soaked. He swipes three dexterous fingers along your sensitive slit, pulling them out of your pants to marvel at the sticky mess dripping off of his digits before licking each one clean. 

The sight of that alone nearly sends you over the edge, your tight hole fluttering in anticipation. You rock your hips once more, and his eyes glint with a hint of amusement as his hand makes its way back into your underwear.

Jean wastes no time in sinking a finger into your waiting hole, slowly sliding it in and out of you as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to the underside of your jaw. Meanwhile, you grasp his throbbing cock through his pants, fingers teasing at the wet spot of precum that’s soaked through the material, and he bucks upward into your touch.

“Fuck, baby,” he pants, stretching you open with another finger while his free hand gropes your breasts. You move your hips quicker than the diligent thrusts of his fingers, asking for more, and his chuckle drips through you like warm honey as he obliges your request with a third digit and murmurs, “How’s this?”

The sound of him fucking you with his fingers is downright obscene, the digits squelching wetly with each movement. The pleasure mounting within you has your thighs trembling with anticipation. But as you continue to fondle the outline of his cock, all you can think about is how goddamn big it feels. 

“Jean,” you whine, incapable of stringing together words to appropriately express the sentiment that you’d really, really like him to fuck you stupid with his dick right now.

He cups your face, the tender gesture at odds with the fingers curling and stroking your spongy inner walls. Jean leans in to capture your mouth in a messy, heated kiss, leaving a string of saliva trailing from your lips to his when he pulls back slightly to murmur, “If you want more, you have to come on my fingers first.”

You’ve spent more time than you’ll ever admit fantasizing the dirty, filthy things Jean might say to you while taking you apart, thoughts that have clung to your mind and sometimes forced you to avoid your best friend out of embarrassment for days at a time. 

But nothing can compare to this—the way his rough voice scrapes alive each and every nerve ending in the deepest recesses of your body. The undeniably dominant tone each word is laced with, and the instinctual reaction it viscerally awakens inside of you. 

Jean’s thumb presses into your swollen clit at the same time he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down, and the swelling wave of pleasure in your abdomen finally crests. Your entire body tenses as you moan, riding out your climax on his fingers until the overstimulation has your legs quivering for momentary reprieve.

“Good girl,” he praises, slowly pulling his sticky fingers out of your pants. 

You don’t hesitate to reach for his waiting cock, eager to feel its thick warmth cradled in your fingers, but he gently nudges your hand away, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You huff in annoyance, and he shakes his head, “You’ve got me so wound up, I won’t last like this.”

“You wanna fuck me, Jean?” you coyly ask.

Idly teasing at one of your nipples, Jean’s answering grin is nothing short of wolfish. “You’re so tight, we’ll have to see if you can take me.”

You raise an eyebrow at the hint of challenge in his tone, though if what you’ve felt through his pants is anything to go by, you can’t deny it’s likely warranted.

The bedsheets rustle and the mattress squeaks as you both make quick work of the remainder of your clothes, underwear and pants left forgotten on the floor while Jean kisses and nips his way up the planes and curves of your naked body, his hands exploring each and every dip and crevice with reverence. When his lips finally meet yours once more, his hair tickling your face as he leans over top of you, anticipation curls in your gut at the feeling of what now presses against your naked body.

Your eyes trail down Jean’s chest, fingernails gently scraping over his nipples, and he sucks in a breath as you slide closer to your destination. His thick cock is a sight to behold, hanging heavily between his legs, and there’s not a trace of shame in the way your mouth waters at the thought of him stretching your slick cunt open with it.

As if reading your thoughts, Jean pushes your thighs apart, slapping his fat length against the puffy, sensitive folds of your pussy. Your back arches up off of the mattress of its own accord, and he hums, one hand firmly grasping your hip as the other wipes the flushed head of his shaft up and down your sticky slit. 

His name spills from your kiss-swollen lips, your neck muscles straining from how hard you’re pressing your head back down into the pillow underneath you. And when your drenched cunt greedily accepts the tip of his cock as he notches it at your entrance, pumping a spit-soaked palm along the length of it, it’s all you can do not to spear yourself on him entirely. 

“So eager,” Jean muses, watching the telltale signs of your thinly veiled restraint as he makes no effort to move any further. 

“Jean, please,” you beg, fully aware that this reaction is exactly what he wanted. 

He leans down, mouth latching onto one of your breasts, and you gasp as he slides into you just a little bit further while he traces wet, messy circles around your hard nipple. You grasp a fistful of his hair, finding another reason to be thankful for the way he’s let it grow out as of late as you tug his face up to yours.

“Yes?” he asks, a sparkle of mirth dancing in his lustful gaze as he smiles down at you.

“Fuck me,” you pant out, tightening your grip on his hair.

You hardly have time to appreciate the moan that drags out of him before he kisses you hard, plunging the full length of his cock into your cunt, directly to the hilt. The stretch is like nothing you’ve ever felt before, your walls spasming in protest as all of the air punches out of your lungs. But despite the impossibly tight fit, your pussy greedily takes every inch of Jean’s cock, tears of pleasure pricking at the corners of your eyes. 

“Holy shit,” Jean moans as your pussy clamps down on him, so hot and wet he nearly blows his load right then and there. “You’re so fucking tight.”

Fresh arousal dribbles wetly from your entrance and onto the base of his shaft, each and every nerve ending in your body buzzing like a livewire. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, swallowed up within the warmth of your cunt, his balls hanging heavily against your ass. Jean’s careful as he begins to ease out of you, well aware of the way your walls are so desperately choking his thick length. 

It’s why he’s surprised when you grasp at the soft strands of his hair once more and breathe out impatiently, “I’m not going to break, you know.”

Jean leans in and murmurs against your lips, “What are you trying to say? You like it rough?”

You nod, running your teeth along his bottom lip, “Yeah, Jean. I do.”

Cock now resting at your fluttering entrance once more, Jean groans as he snaps his hips into yours, burying himself deep in your soaking wet pussy. 

“So perfect,” he murmurs as you writhe and keen in pleasure beneath him, your tits bouncing with each thrust as he begins to ravage your hole. “Taking me so, so good.”

“Feels so good,” you nearly sob, head spinning with the pleasure threatening to spill over inside of you. 

Jean’s kisses are all tongues and teeth, filthy and messy as his thrusts begin to grow sloppy. “Come all over my cock, baby. Please,” he groans. “Please, please.”

He’s begging for it, begging to feel your cunt clamp down and gush all over his dick.

He’s so fucking close, balls seizing up, his entire body straining from the effort to bring you to your climax first.

“Come. For. Me.”

And it’s the desperation in his voice that sends you hurtling over the edge, a bright, searing lightning strike of pleasure like you’ve never known before bursting open inside of you as you succumb to an orgasm that leaves you positively boneless. 

“Inside,” you gasp just as Jean goes to pull out.

His answering groan is the most sinful sound you’ve ever heard as he plunges back into you, his forehead falling against yours while you both revel in the feeling of your walls spasming and contracting against his cock while he fills your cunt with spurt after spurt of hot, sticky cum. 

Jean flops down onto the bed beside you after you’ve milked every last drop of his seed from his softening cock, breathing hard, both of you too spent to fumble for something to clean up the mess of cum that lingers between you. Instead, he tugs you against the warmth of his chest, pressing a gentle assault of kisses everywhere on your face but your lips. 

You pout as he pointedly avoids your mouth, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling his mouth toward yours. Jean smiles, the expression filled with unabashed adoration and fondness so stark that you swear your heart stutters in your chest. 

“I’m gonna marry you when this is all over,” he whispers into the scant space between your mouths, each syllable brushing across your lips.

“You promise?”

You can feel Jean smile into his answering kiss.

— likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!

[jammed-out]

Hypnovember Day 22 - Never The Same

(CW: First person, feral transformation, pet brainwashing)

“Beg for me darling…” The witches voice curled around your mind tugging at it like an invisible leash. You whimpered gasping, begging, your unfamiliar legs trembling under you as you fell forward onto all fours. Your fingers cracked, pulling in towards your hand, shortening into something more paw like. You felt your arms bend, cracking under the strain as you fell forward towards the ground.

You looked up at the witch, her lips curled up into a wicked smile. You tried to speak, beg her to stop, even as your mouth pulled outward stretching forward into a snout, new teeth growing and old ones changing. You tried to say a word only for it to sound like a garbled mess of syllables. You whimpered instead, only able to manage that.

“Now that’s much more like it pet. You do know how hard it is to source werewolf spit and fuse it into a potion.” You looked up at her whimpering. You hadn’t asked for this, you just wanted a potion of animal speaking, not to turn into an animal. “Oh don’t be like that. You’ll only transform during the full moon, otherwise, you’ll just be my cute little puppy. And of course you’ll be able to talk to animals, I did promise that.”

You whined feeling your spine shift, bending inward as a tail forced its way out of your back. Your clothes already in shreds on the floor as the fur began to break out spreading over and across your skin. You could feel your ears stretching, pulling out into that of a canine. The full moon taking its effect on you as the changes continued.

“Pet now do me a favor and let me just…” She reached out with her hand, blue tendrils of smoke snaking towards you. You backed up, stumbling and tripping on four legs, unfamiliar to you. The smoke wrapped around your head. You could feel it snaking its way into your nose, your mouth, your ears, your….

Everything grew hazy as the smoke filled your mind. Everything began to blur except for the witch standing there, her legs spread wide. You sniffed the air, you could smell her scent wafting off of her. The arousal pooling between her legs. It smelled really good. Your mouth watered.

“Now pet. Sit.” You felt your hind legs bend as your butt slammed against the ground, your tail wagging back and forth eagerly. You panted, your tongue sticking out of your mouth.

“Lay down.” The words echoed like a command in your head and your dropped down, wiggling your ass back and forth against the floor. The movement added enough friction to only make you more aroused.

“You’ll do anything for me won’t you pet?” You barked quickly, no longer thinking about anything except doing as your owner commanded.

“You’re a good little pet aren’t you?” She walked over and began to scratch behind your ear. “Don’t worry. Before the night is up we’ll completely rewrite that mind of yours into the perfect little obedient pet for me. What good was all that adventuring for anyways.” You barked again in approval. The witch smiled and ran a glowing blue finger up over your snout to boop you on the nose. You sniffed and licked at her finger eagerly.

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Hope you enjoyed that. I’ll be following @h_sleepingirl prompt list for the entire month because I really like a couple of the prompts on the list. You should also definitely check out and support them.

You’ll also be able to find all of my writings under the tags on my page. Hope you enjoy and see you tomorrow!

[arctrooper69]

Falling is Just Uncontrolled Flying

Contains Spoilers from the Season 2 finale under the cut

Warnings: S2 Finale spoilers, angst

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You'd always loved flying. It was the one thing that could be whatever you wanted it to be and then immediately become something else. One could be perfectly at peace, sailing through hyperspace and then suddenly be thrown into the heat of battle the very second you jumped out. It was chaos. But what was flying other than controlled falling?

***

Hardly registering Omega's cries and the raw screams ripping from your own throat, you threw yourself off of the falling rail car after Tech. The wind roared in your ears, heart pounding as you leapt through the debris, using the Force to launch yourself from piece to jagged piece, letting the momentum propell you forward. The harsh wind felt like sandpaper as it cut across your face.

You screamed as a large chunk of durasteel raked against your side, threatening to knock you off course.

"Tech!" You called out on instinct, though you were certain he couldn't hear you from the velocity at which he was falling.

Gritting your teeth, you launched yourself from the hunk of metal, flying through the air. You could feel Tech several meters below you - his fear, his heartbreak.

His acceptance.

"This is the will of the Force" You could hear Master Windu calmly reassure you. The first time you'd heard him say it, you were a scared and lonely youngling who'd just lost her best friend. "This is the will of the Force."

Anger coursed through your veins.

If that was the case, then the Force had taken the Jedi away. The Force had taken your clone battalion from you - stolen the men you considered to be family. The Force had ripped away so much of what you loved, and what you held close. You'd be damned if you let it take away the man you'd fallen in love with.

You let that anger take hold and with a feral scream, you reached out, willing the every particle of your being into slowing his decent.

Now Tech was flying. You were falling.

His eyes widened in shock as you grabbed a hold of his arm. You could feel his confusion, then the sudden horror that flickered through his expression when he met your eyes.

No! I hadn't meant for you to die with me.

You looked back at him in grim determination.

No one's dying today. Not on my watch.

He slowly shook his head, eyes hardening with a sharp finality. Yet you could feel his heart shatter. His arms wrapped around you in a final acceptance.

"Tech, I -" you mouthed.

A sudden scream ripped from your throat as something hard and heavy tore him from your grasp.

No! Not again! Please not again. I can't lose you.

You hit the ground hard. Pain exploded from your shoulder as it was wrenched beneath your body as you tumbled across the hard, rocky surface.

***

You opened your eyes to the sound of a com going off. It didn't sound like a Republic issued com. That could only mean Imperial.

Your breaths came fast and panicked.

Nonononono. Breathe. Can't help Tech if you can't breathe.

You screwed your eyes shut. Waves of nauseating pain spiked with every movement. It made it so hard to breathe. So hard to focus.

Tech. Breathe. Focus on Tech. Breathe. Where was Tech.

He lay several feet in front of you, face down on the ground, unmoving.

No. Please no.

You could feel the panic rising up again.

"Sir, we found the clone and the Jedi!" A modulated voice barked.

A pair of hands roughly flipped you over so that you lay on your back, blinking at the blinding sun.

"Leave him alone!" You growled, attempting to lunge at him, ignoring how your body stiffly protested the movement in flaming agony. There was only so much you could do to will your body into moving. All you could do was lift your head. Even that left your vision spinning. A white armored TK trooper leaned over you with a chuckle, slapping a pair of binders snugly around your wrists.

"Why? Your clone friend's already dead anyway."

No. Tech. He couldn't be dead. He couldn't. Not when you'd come all this way.

You dragged your gaze over to the pilot where he lay motionless, tears filling your eyes. It hit you then, the sudden tidal wave of heavy-laden grief. Nothing seemed to matter anymore - not your fate, not your friends. Nothing. Unbidden tears spilled from the corners of you eyes and you did nothing to stop them. You couldn't even if you wanted to. It was the only thing you were capable of. The world spun around you but it was all consumed under a blanket of unforgivably heavy numbness. Whatever your fate would be it didn't matter anymore.

Tech had been your fate. Now he was gone.

Fly high my friend.

You barely felt the crack of a blaster rifle against your skull, driving into dreamless unconsciousness.

***

The TK Trooper watched the Jedi's eyes rolled back into her head as the fight left her twitching muscles. Blood soaked her jacket and pants, and her shoulder hung loosely from it's socket. He placed her lightsaber on his belt and looked up as the senior science officer strode up the hill.

"Sir!" He stood at attention. "Should we bag them both?"

"No," the doctor said calmly. "That one's as good as dead. He won't be of any use to me."

He cleared his throat, narrowing his eyes as though thinking something through. "On second thought, take the clone to my lab. Make sure he stays alive. I may have use for him yet."

"And the Jedi?" the trooper questioned.

"Detain the Jedi. Lord Vader will find her very useful once they've broken her will."

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