#Around 3100 words

[sokayisaidiot]

Siblinghood, Platonic Soulmates, or Romance

Analyzing the Relationship Between Ezra Bridger and Sabine Wren

In this post, I will continue from my previous one, having offered a simplified overview but delving into one of the most common criticizing talking points. Please remember that this analysis is from a writing perspective and my own experiences as I am an amateur writer. I welcome comments and reblogs with your thoughts.

For context:

1. Relationships in Star Wars 2. Explanation of These Three Types of Relationships 3. Female Characters in Relationships 4. Ideals and Themes in Star Wars Rebels 5. Ezra and Sabine's Relationship 6. Conclusion

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Relationships in Star Wars

Critics sometimes claim that certain types of relationships are overrepresented in Star Wars, but it's essential to remember that the franchise features a variety of relationship dynamics. Here are some well-known examples:

Siblinghood:

- Luke and Leia (twins) - Ahsoka Tano and Anakin Skywalker (no blood) - Garazeb Orrelios and Ezra Bridger (no blood) - The Son and Daughter (literal Force beings) - Sabine and Tristan Wren (blood relatives) - Maul, Savage Opress, and Feral (same planet)

Platonic Soulmates:

- Han and Chewbacca - R2-D2 and C-3PO - Boba Fett & Fennec Shand - Din Djarin & Bo Katan Kryze - Chirrut Imwe & Baze Malbus

Romantic:

- Han Solo & Princess Leia - Anakin Skywalker & Padme Amidala - Obi-Wan Kenobi & Satine Kryze - Kanan Jarrus & Hera Syndulla - Bail & Breha Organa

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Each relationship explained and how to write it

Siblinghood

Definition A sibling is a term used to describe a brother or sister, which means they share at least one biological or adoptive parent. Siblings are individuals who are part of the same family and are connected through their familial relationships.

Writing points

Individuality: Portray each sibling as a unique individual with distinct traits.

Birth Order: Consider birth order dynamics and how it affects their roles.

Conflict and Love: Explore both rivalry and support in their relationship.

Shared Memories: Use shared childhood memories to deepen their connection.

Complex Emotions: Show a range of emotions, from love to resentment.

Character Development: Use their relationship to drive character growth.

Realistic Dialogue: Make their interactions and dialogues authentic.

Backstory: Develop a backstory with shared and separate experiences.

Conflict Resolution: Show how they handle conflicts within the relationship.

Evolution: Depict how their relationship changes over time.

External Influences: Consider how outside factors impact their dynamic.

Platonic Soulmates

Definition The term "Platonic soulmates" combines two concepts: "Platonic" and "soulmates."

Platonic: In the context of relationships, "Platonic" refers to a non-romantic or non-sexual connection.

Soulmates: It's a belief that there is a special, deep, and sometimes predestined connection between two people that goes beyond ordinary friendship or partnership.

When you combine these concepts, "Platonic soulmates" refers to two individuals who share an exceptionally close, deep, and meaningful non-romantic or non-sexual bond. They may have a connection that feels almost destined, as if their souls are deeply intertwined, but it doesn't involve romantic or sexual attraction.

Writing points

Unique Bond: Highlight the exceptional and non-romantic connection they share.

Common Values: Emphasize shared values, interests, and life goals that deepen their bond.

Unconditional Support: Show their unwavering support, trust, and emotional safety.

Enduring Relationship: Illustrate how their bond withstands time and challenges.

Conflict Resolution: Explore how they handle disagreements with maturity and empathy.

Growth Inspiration: Demonstrate how they inspire personal growth in each other.

Non-Romantic Nature: Clarify that their connection is platonic, not romantic.

Emotional Depth: Dive into their deep emotional connection and comfort.

Shared Moments: Highlight significant life experiences they've shared.

Respectful Boundaries: Show how they respect each other's boundaries.

External Influences: Consider how external factors affect their connection.

Remember that platonic soulmate relationships are diverse and can manifest in various ways. They provide an opportunity to explore deep emotional connections and the profound impact such connections can have on individuals' lives.

Romantic

Definition In everyday conversation, "romantic" is often used to describe anything related to love, affection, or relationships. It can refer to someone who is inclined towards love and affection or to something that evokes feelings of love and beauty. The exact meaning of "romantic" can vary depending on the context in which it is used.

Romantic Love: Deep emotional affection, attraction, and passion between two individuals, forming the basis for relationships like dating, courtship, and marriage.

Romantic Relationship: A partnership based on romantic love, including dating, committed relationships, or marriage, characterized by emotional closeness and physical affection.

Romantic Gestures: Actions expressing love, affection, and admiration in romantic contexts, such as giving flowers, writing love letters, or planning surprise dates.

Romanticism: A cultural movement originating in the late 18th century, emphasizing emotions, individualism, and the sublime in literature, art, and philosophy, often celebrating nature, imagination, and powerful emotions.

Writing points

Chemistry and Attraction: Establish a strong attraction between the partners.

Character Development: Use the relationship to develop and evolve the characters.

Conflict and Tension: Introduce challenges to make the relationship engaging.

Communication: Show effective communication and miscommunication between partners.

Shared Moments: Highlight meaningful experiences they share.

Individual Lives: Balance their personal lives with the relationship.

Trust and Vulnerability: Explore trust and emotional openness.

Intimacy: Address physical and emotional intimacy.

External Influences: Include the impact of outside factors.

Conflict Resolution: Demonstrate how they handle conflicts.

Long-Term Compatibility: Consider their compatibility for the future.

Realistic Challenges: Create believable obstacles.

Romantic Gestures: Showcase meaningful acts of love.

Character Flaws: Develop imperfections in the characters.

Resolution: Provide a satisfying conclusion to their relationship arc.

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Girls in Relationships:

This section explores how certain female characters in Star Wars maintain their own identities while being involved in romantic relationships.

Padmé Amidala

Character: It might be considered a bold choice, but as Dave Filoni is known as the TCW and SWR guru, I genuinely appreciate Padmé's character. She embodies the spirit of self-reliance, often adopting the motto, "I'll handle it myself," when she witnesses suffering. As a compassionate and principled member of the Senate, she values diplomacy over violence, serving as a commendable role model by prioritizing dialogue and care for others. Her character shines brightest in episodes where she grapples with political conflicts.

Romance: Transitioning to the subject of her romantic involvement, Padmé and Anakin's relationship has sparked numerous discussions. Despite the uncertainty and occasional turbulence, there is genuine love between them. She envisions a future with him, refusing to give up on him even in the face of his inner struggles. Padmé recognizes Anakin's mental anguish and does her utmost to support him, though the complexities of their circumstances often double their challenges.

Ahsoka Tano

Character: Ahsoka stands as one of the most well-crafted female characters in Star Wars lore, undergoing significant growth and development throughout The Clone Wars (TCW). She evolves from an overconfident and naive child into a mature, thoughtful, and highly respected adult. Her journey is marked by substantial mistakes and profound realizations.

Romance: While Ahsoka experiences various connections throughout TCW, the most notable is with Lux. However, this romance primarily serves as a vehicle for her character development. Lux provides her with insights into the Separatists' perspective on the war and later the Death Watch. While Ahsoka does express interest in him, it's not in a deeply romantic sense. Instead, she's appreciative of the knowledge and experiences gained from their interactions.

Leia Organa

Character: Leia, our first main character introduction, immediately captivates with her compelling beginning. She's taken captive but never succumbs to fear, displaying strength and resolve. Her resilience shines through as she becomes one of the Rebellion's leaders, commanding respect from all quarters. She remains unyielding in her role, displaying a fiery temperament and quick wit reminiscent of her father, while proving to be even more resolute than her brother, a Jedi.

Romance: The iconic romance between Leia and Han Solo portrays the smuggler and the princess in a refreshing light. Instead of conforming to outdated stereotypes, Leia wears the metaphorical pants in their relationship, with Han providing unwavering support. He respects her position and authority, saving personal matters for their private moments. The dynamic is built on trust and mutual respect, avoiding the cliché of a one-sided romance. Notably, this is evident in Return of the Jedi (ROTJ), where Leia gets shot, and Han's caring demeanor is juxtaposed with his trademark smirk as she reveals her weapon. He's the one to express his love, illustrating the mutual affection and growth of both characters.

Hera

Character: Hera serves as the capable captain of the Ghost and its crew, supported by her right-hand man, Kanan, and the astromech droid, Chopper. Despite being a mother, she remains a crucial figure in the New Republic, leading missions and flight teams. Hera defies convention by maintaining her position of power while nurturing a romantic relationship with Kanan.

Romance: In contrast to traditional depictions where women are often portrayed as pining and emotional while men are serious, Hera and Kanan's dynamic reverses these roles. Kanan actively pursues the relationship, while Hera takes on a more serious and authoritative role. This unconventional approach adds depth to their relationship and challenges traditional gender norms.

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The Ideals of Rebels' Story and Its Setup Points:

Both the Star Wars Prequels and the Original Trilogy are anchored in the theme of battling oppressive regimes striving for absolute control. The Prequels delve into how this oppression came to be, forming a pivotal narrative standpoint. In contrast, The Clone Wars (TCW) primarily focuses on world-building, offering in-depth explorations of various factions and societies within the galaxy. While TCW provides a comprehensive view of the galaxy during a civil war, it doesn't follow a single large crew's story.

On the other hand, Star Wars Rebels (SWR) places a character-driven focus at its core. Unlike some other Star Wars media, such as movies, series, or shorts, SWR doesn't extensively explore different locations or delve into background storytelling. Instead, it prioritizes character development and episodic narratives.

To clarify my previous statement, SWR serves as a bridge between Episode 3 and Episode 4 of the Star Wars saga. It fills in the gaps, revealing the journey and sacrifices necessary to achieve freedom. The series commences with Ezra, a newly-minted Jedi Padawan, in a galaxy where Jedi are hunted down. He joins the nascent rebellion, which is just beginning to take shape. Ezra represents a glimmer of hope in a desolate world, even as forces of darkness attempt to extinguish that light.

This underscores the significance of SWR. Episode 4 depicted the Rebellion in its full-fledged form, with a substantial crew and support from multiple fronts. However, SWR sheds light on the challenges and sacrifices that made such achievements possible. It demonstrates that what was accomplished required immense personal sacrifice.

The Jedi aspect is exemplified through Kanan, who embodies the essence of a true Jedi. Ezra, too, matures into this role over time. Kanan's journey is unique; he was in the midst of his Padawan training when Order 66 unfolded. He never completed his training in the traditional sense and couldn't fully embrace the Jedi rules and traditions, which often felt restrictive and suffocating. Unbeknownst to him, his love for, attachment to, and bond with his lover, Padawan, and the rest of the crew went against traditional Jedi norms. However, this deviation allowed him to learn things the Jedi should have known centuries ago. Kanan eventually felt the full embrace of the Force, despite his past mistakes and moments of foolishness. He ultimately met his end as a true Jedi Knight.

As for Sabine, her character's growth and journey revolve around taking responsibility for her past mistakes and evolving into a stronger individual. Her journey includes abandoning the Imperial Academy, which produced weapons harmful to her people. This decision placed her family in jeopardy, with the majority of Mandalorians harboring animosity towards her. Despite these challenges, she emerged stronger with the support of those around her and a willingness to confront her past without forgetting or ignoring it.

The relationship between Ezra and Sabine in SWR was intentionally left ambiguous, making it challenging to definitively categorize. While the series provides hints through Ezra's statements, it remains open to interpretation. The internet, as expected, has embraced the ambiguity and given rise to various interpretations, showcasing the power of fan engagement and ship culture.

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Ezra and Sabine, Examined from Every Angle:

This section breaks down how each of these interpretations aligns with the characteristics of these relationship types.

Siblinghood

Individuality: With Siblings, there come different personalities. One can be chaotic and the other calm. That’s what we see in that case what can be considered normal in a family. You have the artistic child with her younger brother being more traditional and following his father.

Birth Order: This being one of the strongest arguments with this relationship. It’s for many great to see nonblood people considering each other as found family, where in situation where one lost their family or their family was not good, there are still others that are as close as those you share blood with.

Conflict and Love: This is more of a thing that can be seen with the training of the dark saber, in which the one sibling, who is good at something, that they consider their specialty, having to have share it with the other, as they see it being taken away or provoking the other as they think they are better at something.

Shared Memories: Both have abandonment issues over their family, and they share a lot of missions together.

Complex Emotions: Once again going back to the dark saber training, you could interpret that scene where Ezra is saying that Sabine at least still has family, while he has only one family left, that she is not respecting

Character Development: This can be interpretation for the end of rebels

Realistic Dialogue: A lot of people regard them bickering as sibling bickering

Backstory: In the start, it is implied that with Zeb, she is one that takes him under her wing as a older sister role

Conflict Resolution: They talk to each other

Evolution: It can be them growing older and seeing each other as equals

External Influences: within the ghost crew, they consider each other as family. Hera especially, so its easy to take this as it can be seen that every member implies it for themselves.

Platonic Soulmates

Unique Bond: They are not really romantically nor as siblings introduced in season 3 and 4

Common Values: Both want to free their respective people, destroy the empire and find a place in the galaxy.

Unconditional Support: Within the end, Sabine never states to be romantically involved but she does stay on Lothal, keeps his memorable things in check and waits from him to return.

Enduring Relationship: Both are willing to entrust each other to a lot of things and giving each other the chance to make things happen.

Conflict Resolution: They talk.

Growth Inspiration: Within the season 1 and 2 where Ezra constantly flirts openly to Season 3 and 4 where it is not seen as a romantic way.

Non-Romantic Nature: Barely Romantic gestures of touch in the traditional sense or talking about the feeling to each other, but in a respectable comrade way.

Emotional Depth: Their connection through their past and need to make better of their mistakes while helping each other out of those.

Shared Moments: Their missions

Respectful Boundaries: With Ezra stopping the flirting to concentrate and help Sabine

External Influences: The ghost crew being a close family through common goals and connection gives them a more bigger leeway

Romantic

Chemistry and Attraction: It is clear that Ezra still has an crush on Sabine, with him meeting her for the first time, being enamored with her beauty. Their chemistry is working and expendable. Sabine later is more open for more.

Character Development: From the young kid who has a crush with no real idea to an jedi that keeps it low to fulfill his duty, Ezra evolves within 4 seasons to a more mature way of admiring Sabine while having respect for her. Within the episode where Kanan and Sabine 

Conflict and Tension: From the end of rebels, where Ezra sacrifices himself to keep his loved one self but leaving Sabine alone and confused to Sabine not listening to him when he tells her to or when she does not give him a lot of decision power over her.

Communication: Sabine not being able to trust anyone really to her getting the closest to Ezra for even supporting him on way to dangerous missions and Ezra 

Shared Moments: From the intimate closeness of holding him by his waist to fly to safety, to him keeping her steady on the loath wolves and both refusing to let the other get hurt.

Individual Lives: When it comes to Krownest, Sabine splits up for a little while, when Ezra takes on other missions. They know when they have to do something alone and they have their own bigger problems in the end.

Trust and Vulnerability: Within the later seasons (3 and 4) Sabine opens up to Ezra about her own Demons and gives her full trust to him. Both can depend each other’s live on the other. But when it comes to

Intimacy: Sabine has no problem holding Ezra closer while Ezra still gets flustered a bit(speaking escape Jetpack scene). But other than that they have no problem being closer.

External Influences: Both Chopper and Zeb have been making fun of Ezra and Kanan is aware to some known extend as he has to be the done calming Ezra down, when Sabine is in a Dangerous situation.

Conflict Resolution: On the battlefield its Sabine being the aggressor and Ezra the shield. With other conflicts, it is that Sabine needs time to herself and Ezra worrying but respecting her needs.

Long-Term Compatibility: Sabine cannot imagine a life without Ezra in it and Ezra has stated that he wants to come home to her (as well as the others).

Realistic Challenges: Sabine knowing that 10 years have gone by since Ezra disappeared and still being ever so loyal to him. Ezra, while knowing Sabines competence, still often not wanting her on solo missions.

Romantic Gestures: The Birthday gift from Sabine. The consistent support of Ezra. 

Character Flaws: The way they cannot see other one in pain and taking full front and lying in front of the other.

Resolution: They give each other full trust on the final mission with Sabine on her way towards him.

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Endcut:

In summary, this post aims to offer multiple perspectives on the dynamic between Ezra and Sabine, emphasizing that all three interpretations are valid based on the available knowledge.

Please note that this is a complex analysis, and the nature of their relationship remains open to interpretation.

[witherby]

I need anything and everything of jason being Mouses favourite. (The Littlest Wayne AU)

They get a snack/ meal - Jay Jay has to take a bite first before they eat

They have a new toy- Jay Jay has to see and play

I’ll take anything you can think of.

I am obsessed. The AU is amazing

-🤍💜

Say less! I love Jason Todd and so does Flittermouse! By the way the word count is 3100+ lol oops

The Littlest Wayne: Fist Bumps

Masterlist is Here!

"This is stupid."

"Shut up, you're just mad you won't get picked."

Tim kicks Damian in the shin, who retaliates by kicking him back much, much harder in the ankle. Tim cries out, about to start a fight, but one stern look from Alfred settles them both down. They continue to sit beside each other without fuss, and soon everyone is all neatly lined in a row while Hal uses his ring to keep you safely suspended in a bubble, playing with a little rattle.

"Alright," Dick says excitedly, "we're going over the rules one more time! No jingling any shiny objects for Flitty to chase after, no getting out of line to get closer to them, and Bruce, no bare skin! We're gonna have Hal set them down and see who they come to first."

"This isn't gonna go the way you think it's gonna go," Bruce says, endlessly amused. "Please, none of you get your feelings hurt."

"Nobody's gonna start cryin', relax," Jason says, lounging on the floor between Damian and Hal. "Kay, we ready?"

A chorus of agreement follows, and Hal gently lowers you to the floor. They all immediately call your name, or variations of your nickname, waving their hands and patting their laps to get you to come to them. Your eyes widen, startled by the sudden rush of noise, and turn your head to assess everyone across the room.

You lock on to the man you want, the binky in your mouth bopping up and down excitedly, and you start speedily crawling to Jason.

"I KNOW that's fuckin' right!" He yells, scooping you into his arms and gently tossing you in the air a couple inches, then peppering your face with kisses. "I'm the favorite you little freaks. Kiss my ass."

"Okay, whatever, we knew that already," Dick says, "now it's time to see who the second favorite is. Put them down and go away so we can play again."

"Be nice to your brother," Bruce says. Dick flicks Bruce in the ear and he scowls. "Ow. Be nice to me."

"Fine. Gotta know who my competition is for the number one spot in Mousey's heart, even if I'm winning by a landslide." Jason carries you across the room and sets you back down. "You stay for a sec, kay? Pound it." He picks up your chubby arm and makes you give him a fist bump, then walks away from you.

Before they can even start a second round of the game, you're shuffling after him again. Christ, it's adorable.

"It's because they can still see you, Todd," Damian says, scooping you up to put back in starting position. "Duck behind the couch."

Jason rolls his eyes but complies, bending down until he's out of sight. When the rest of the family calls for you again, you shuffle forward like you're going to crawl to Hal, but you veer past him and around to the back of the couch to get to Jason again.

"Oh my god, they've developed object permanence already," Tim says. Jason's triumphant laughter fills the room as he lifts you up to give you more kisses. His endless delight and your happy squealing softens the blow to everyone else's egos.

"This game sucks anyway," Dick mumbles, crossing his arms in defeat. "What idiot even came up with it in the first place..."

--

"You ask."

"Uh, no? You ask? I don't care."

"Yeah but he tolerates your questions. I don't wanna get my jaw blown off."

"Then don't ask, dumbass. It's so easy."

Jason clears his throat, causing the two goons to stiffen up and turn to face him. One of them looks upset that he was caught unaware, and the other looks one wrong move away from pissing himself.

"Hi, boss," they both greet.

"Whatcha talkin' about?" Jason asks, taking a half-step closer. "Cause last I checked, I sent you both over here to do quality control on our newest drug shipment. And I'm not seeing a lot of that gettin' done."

He turns to the more frightened man. If he didn't have his helmet on, he would've sneered at him.

"So what's the hold up? Need me to sew some mouths shut? Hmm? Want me t'cut out your fuckin' tongue? That'll motivate you real fast, I bet."

"We'll get right on it, boss," the other, clearly smarter, henchman states. "We were just. Uh. Wondering why there's... why there's a baby strapped to your chest."

Jason looks down at you. You stare right back at him, making a soft cooing noise around your Red Hood-themed binky, and reach up for his mask. He gently takes your hand instead, feeling your tiny fingers curl around the leather of his gloved pointer. He's smiling sweetly at you, despite no one being able to see it.

"This is M," he says by way of an answer. "Won't be an everyday occurrence — couldn't find another babysitter so I assured the dad I'd keep 'em safe for the night."

He doesn't mention that your dad is also his dad, and that when Jason tried to leave to do his vigilante work, you screamed the house down and would only calm down in his arms, therefore he had no choice. So here you are, strapped to his chest in a onesie padded with kevlar and vital-tracking tech, while your favorite brother carries your diapers and formula around in the same duffel he stashes his guns.

And because you're his favorite, too, he secretly hopes you throw more fits so he gets to hoard you all to himself again. Taking a few minutes to tickle your tummy or gently rock you in his arms stops him from losing his patience and blowing out the brains of several subordinates tonight — which his men clearly catch onto, because they all start telling him how nice it is to see such a cute and perfect and pleasant, life-saving baby hanging around.

Fuck yeah it's nice. S'cause you're the coolest baby ever. Jason gently makes you fist bump him.

--

"AHHH!"

Jason is out of his chair and bolting across the Manor before his brain fully registers your screaming through the baby monitor. There's surprised exclamations and footfalls not far from him as his thunderous steps stir up a commotion, but he doesn't care about that.

There are very few times in his life when he's moved this fast. Large, expansive rooms fly by him in a blur of color. He takes the stairs six at a time. If a door he needs to get through is closed, he's breaking it down with a well-placed hit with his shoulder and moving on.

When he gets to your room, he stops to yank the door open because he doesn't know if you're near it, and darts inside with a sharp shout of your name.

"What's wrong!?" He pants, zeroing in on you immediately. You've rushed into your wardrobe and climbed inside it, red-faced and crying as a crow flaps haphazardly around the bedroom. The shattered glass on the floor gives him the missing context, and he snatches the bird out of the air with more force than necessary while the adrenaline spike is still scrambling his nervous system.

Bruce is the second person to rush into your room just moments after, crouching by your hiding spot with furrowed brows and a soft, slightly winded voice.

"Are you hurt?" He asks. You whimper but shake your head, fat tears rolling down your little cheeks, and lift your hands. Bruce picks you up without hesitation and stands up.

"Jaylad?" He says, still in that gentle tone. "You alright?"

Jason doesn't answer. He's not alright, not really. The rage he'd built up thinking someone was in here hurting you is still burning through his veins, and with no outlet for it, he's struggling a bit.

Bruce doesn't take offense to his lack of response. He just offers you a small, reassuring smile and bounces you a bit in his arms.

"Let's go find Grandpa and snuggle up with some hot chocolate," he murmurs. "Jay-Jay will hang back and make sure your bedroom is safe for you."

"No!" You sob, leaning around your father's broad shoulders to reach for Jason. "Want Jay-Jay!"

"You can spend time with him in a little while, Mouse," Bruce says, starting to carry you out of the room. Your protests get louder and more frantic, pushing against him to no avail.

"Want Jay!" You repeat, sobbing openly. "Jay-Jay! Want, p'ease!! Jay-Jay!"

"Bruce," Jason utters through grit teeth. His father stops, only a few steps down the hallway, and turns back to him. "It's fine. I'll take 'em, you clean up the mess."

"...are you sure?" Bruce frowns, visibly cautious. He looks down at the bird still flapping helplessly as Jason holds it by the neck, firmer than strictly necessary.

Jason takes a step towards the broken window and tosses the crow out. After a second of frantic flapping, it straightens itself out and flies away with panicked sqawking.

He turns to you and holds out his arms. They're only trembling a little bit, but the edges of his vision are still tinged with green. Bruce hesitates to pass you over.

"I've got it," Jason murmurs, "I'm calm enough. Gimme my fuckin' sibling before you piss me off worse, B."

Bruce nods slowly. He brings you back into the room and hands you off to Jason. Your arms circle his neck and cling on tight, and you bury your face in his chest as you cry. It breaks his heart that you had such a bad scare. He can see the half-completed Lego build you were playing with on the floor in front of the window and hopes Bruce can get all the glass shards out between the bricks and carpet.

Jason carries you out of your bedroom and down the corridor to his. He leaves his door cracked open and flicks on lights as he goes, then brings you to the en-suite bathroom.

"Okay, Mousey," he mumbles, trying to set you on the sink's vanity. You clutch him tighter and whimper, and it drives a spear right through his chest. "Kid, I'm not goin' nowhere. Jay-Jay's right here, I just wanna make sure there's no glass on you."

A little more prodding and the compromise of you holding one of his hands gets you to relent. You sit miserably on the counter as your sobs slowly die down, and Jason tediously checks your hair and clothes for any bits of glass that may have landed on you when the crow crashed into the window. The slow, repetitive motions help quiet the last of his anger until he's just tired and concerned for you. He finds a couple tiny pieces, but your skin is unblemished and when he asks if you're hurt, you shake your head, which then calms him entirely.

"Alright, great job," he murmurs. "Come here, we'll go bother Alfie t'give us an icecream sammy before dinner and then cuddle in the main living room. Good plan?"

You sniffle, wiping the last of your tears away. Your cheeks are flushed and puffy. "Yeah, good pwan..."

Jason kisses the top of your head and offers you his fist. You gently bump yours against his, then lift your arms again to be picked back up. He obliges, refusing to put you back down for the rest of the day. When it's time for bed, you don't wanna go back into your room, so he spends the evening reading his current novel with a dim book light while you snooze away on his chest.

--

He's livid. Jason's got a hole in his leg and he can't run away from the rival gang leader pointing a gun at his head, and he's fucking livid.

"My first death was way cooler," he mutters. "Got blown up and everything."

"What the fuck are you saying?" The other man scowls. "I never could understand you through that thick-ass helmet."

"I'm saying, if you're gonna go down as the guy that killed the Red Hood, at least make the execution something fuckin' noteworthy," Jason rants, the pain making him bitchier than usual. He waves his hands for emphasis, pointing at the gunman much like a mother scolding her child. "Ohh I shot him and watched his brain splatter everywhere! So has every single marksman ever. I'm worth more than a bullet in an alleyway. The fuck do I look like, Bruce Wayne's folks?"

"Whoa, man," the shooter says, lifting his free hand to scratch the back of his head. "Let me get this straight. You're not mad I'm gonna kill you. You're that mad I'm not gonna kill you...in a cooler way?"

"Excellent listening ears, bucko! Gold star!" Jason coos, clapping. "Immolation, decapitation, tossin' me in an acid pit — fuck me, I'll take a stab wound over a bullet! D'you know how skilled you gotta be to get close enough to stab Red Hood to death!? If not for me, do somethin' that'll raise your own paltry street cred, shit. You're so fucking boring."

The man doesn't get another chance to weigh his options. The darkness of the alleyway pounces on him, sucking him into the void while he shrieks like an animal. Jason slumps against the wall and watches the shapeless darkness warp and twist, the gun abandoned on the ground in the gunman's initial panic. He feels his heart rate slow when you step out after a minute, wearing a thick jacket over your pajamas and a domino mask over your eyes as you hurry towards him. A flash of irritation makes him scowl as he realizes one of the others woke you up for this, when you aren't even a vigilante to begin with. The culprit's gonna get their ass beat as soon as he recovers enough to track them down.

"Okay," you stammer, kneeling next to him on the ground with a first aid kit. "Okay okay okay...Alf — umm, Agent A? I'm here, what do I do?"

"Remain calm, Flittermouse. All will be well," Alfred soothes you over the comms. Jason feels the adrenaline steadily exiting his body now that he's registered that he's safe. Now, it's a fight to stay conscious so you don't freak out even more than you're currently doing. He's so proud of you for coming out here despite the blatant fear.

Your hands shake as you pop the kit open and pull out the field tourniquet. Alfred instructs you on how to set it up, and Jason gently adjusts it when you wrap it a little too close to the bullet wound in his thigh. He grits his teeth as you tighten it, refusing to make a peep, and gives you a quick thumbs up when you tie it off.

"Okay, I stopped the bleeding. Do I bring him home, now?" You ask.

"As long as he has no other injuries, the medical bay is ready for you to transport him back to the cave."

"M'good, Mousey," Jason says, lifting his fist. "Sorry you had to come rescue your cool big bro. S'not your job."

"I was the one who could get here the fastest," you reply. After a moment's hesitation, you bump his fist with your own. "You're gonna be okay."

"M'gonna be okay," he echoes, knowing you need that confirmation. "Saved my life, kid. I'll do all your chores for the next week."

That gets a wet laugh out of you. You hug Jason tight and the shadows of the alley pool underneath your bodies. Jason closes his eyes and hugs you back, a steady anchor in the free-falling sensation entering your darkness gives him.

"My heroics are only worth a week of chores?"

"S'better than the rest get," he says. "They get one chore. Not even a whole day, just one chore."

You bury your face in his shoulder as the void swallows you and him up.

"You're my favorite, too, Jay-Jay," you mumble. Jason smiles as he loses the battle for consciousness.

--

"Good afternoon; welcome to Truce Juice. Would you like a moment with a menu or are you ready to order?"

Jason leans his hip against the counter and takes a menu off the small, laminated stack you've got sitting there, glancing over the options. Behind the helmet, he smiles as he remembers all the late nights you pulled him and your other brothers into the kitchen to taste test these drinks and snacks, desperate to make things that would appeal to many people. He remembers how proud you were to graduate from your culinary courses and the victory cry you let out when you found insurance willing to cover the building.

You smile warmly at him, waiting patiently for him to choose something off the menu for the first time in your brand new business.

"Black coffee," he says, voice warped by the modulator in the helmet, "two sugars."

"What size?" You ask, tapping it into the screen in front of you.

"Large. And a turkey panini, with avocado and pesto."

"Toasted?"

"What other fuckin' way would anybody get a panini?" He muses aloud. To strangers, he would sound angry, but you can tell he's genuinely asking. You just shrug and keep the soft smile on your face.

"You'd be surprised. Your total's on the screen; will that be cash or card?"

Jason reaches a gloved hand down. It glides past the pistol strapped to his thigh, eliciting nervous gasps from bystanders in the cafe, and into the pocket underneath, drawing out a plain, tri-fold wallet. He pulls out two hundred-dollar bills and huffs at you to keep the change, then saunters over to the pick-up counter to wait.

He crosses his arms and watches you scuttle around behind the counter, genuinely happy to make food and drinks for anybody that comes in. So far, you're uninjured and you've been able to stop any rising conflicts in seconds, which he's endlessly thankful for.

When his order is ready, you hand it to him with another bright smile.

"Alright, mister Hood, here you go. Have a great day!"

Jason nods, about to turn away, when he sees you hold your fist out in his periphery.

He grins, heart fit to burst, and bumps it back.

[toxicanonymity]

The Night

THOMAS HEWITT X F! READER | THE SPREAD one shot

LENGTH: 3100 words | GIRTH: Huge

SUMMARY: Another trespasser meets a violent end. You admit your fears to Tommy, and he shows he cares.

WARNINGS: 18+ Canon-typical violence/horror, angst, dark fluff, protective!Tommy, light somno, unsafe dubcon PIV, creampie, fainting, no use of yn, the usual size kink, captivity.

NOTES: Tysm for your interest and enthusiasm for this fic ♥️ I appreciate your comments and asks.

THE SPREAD FAM: @milla-frenchy @aurorawritestoescape @ankkumi @slut4acotar @stickywinnertale @megangovier @xdaddysprincessxx @im-his-druidess @your-favblondie @ahoeformando @consultingskeletondetective

The Hewitts had gone to bed, and Tommy had brought you into his work area to sit in his lap while he disassembled dolls. He lined up the plastic heads and arms and legs and tossed their soft bodies into a pile.

“Where did these come from?” you asked. He looked up toward the upstairs of the main house, then hunched over to work again, and shrugged. When he was done with the last doll, he slid his hands under your arms and stood up, setting you on his desk. Then he bent down to pick up a big flour sack off the floor.

Something clattered outside, and Tommy froze. It was a small sound, like a can being kicked. After a few seconds of silence, a man’s voice cut through the silence. “Hillbillies,” he cursed under his breath.

Tommy turned off the dim worklight.

“Fuckin’ psychos.” The stranger’s voice sounded closer.

He was approaching the garage, with no sign he would turn away. Tommy held onto the chair as he stood up without making a noise, then he pointed under the desk.

You hesitated, and he tightly gripped your arms, pulling you off the desk.

“Ow,” you mouthed. He pushed you down and you obeyed. Under the desk, you hugged your knees to your chest.

Tommy’s bare foot–calloused and enormous– scraped against the dusty floor as he looked around to choose his weapon. His axe was too far–that was his own fault. He lifted a chainsaw, and held it, waiting in the shadows for the intruder to approach.

“What the hell is this junk,” the intruder asked himself, halfway into the garage.

When the man reached for something that hung from the ceiling, Tommy charged at him.

“What the fuck!” The man yelled, and scurried away.

Tommy lumbered after the man until they were out of the garage, and you came out from under the desk to see what was going on. From the shadows, you watched Tommy’s hulking silhouette as he revved and raised the chainsaw, then let it die before thwacking the man with the flat edge of the saw.

The man’s body was sprawled on the dirt. Tommy looked back toward the house, chest heaving, and you ducked back under the desk as he came back.

He came about halfway into the garage, glanced to make sure you were safe, set down his chainsaw, then returned outside. Tommy’s posture was tense. His hands were balled into big fists, which he opened and flexed as he approached the man on the ground. He braced one hand on his thigh as he grabbed a fist-full of the man’s shirt, then dragged him away.

With the man limp on the ground, Tommy reached toward the ceiling. He could have touched the ceiling, and he nearly did. He tugged at chains that hung there, separated two that were tangled, and let them down. Then he bent down and picked the man up with little effort. As Tommy strung him up in chains, the man groaned to life and spat blood on the ground. When Tommy was done tugging at the chains, the man was securely off the ground. Tommy punched at the man. It looked too easy for him. What appeared to be a lazy swing landed a devastating blow to the man’s eye, making the chains shake and the body swing. The man spat more.

You crawled out from under the desk to watch Tommy pull and hack at the man’s clothes with his hands, then a cleaver, pulling the fabric off his body. The man wriggled and thrashed.

“Lemme down, freak!” The man demanded.

Tommy paused to inspect the man’s crotch as he took down his pants and underwear. He sniffed and then pulled his underwear back up. Then Tommy caught sight of you in the corner of his eye. You had crept almost all the way to the front of the garage. The man turned his head, following Tommy’s line of sight, and coughed, then weakly asked, “Hey, you okay?”

Tommy’s head snapped back toward the man and he landed a blow that forced the man’s head in the opposite direction. Then, Tommy grabbed him by the neck and squeezed until he was limp, head bowed, body swinging gently off the ground.

Tommy took a leather apron off the wall and put it on, then grabbed his chainsaw and you asked, “What are you doing??”

With his chainsaw in one hand, he put you over his shoulder and took you back to his sewing desk, manhandling you under it once again. He glared at you with fire in his eyes, then marched back toward where the man was hanging.

Tommy took him down from the chains, and dragged him out of the garage and around the house. After a minute, a reddish light poured onto the dirt and grass, and you emerged from under the desk once again.

It was scary being alone in that place, with your protector out of sight. What if someone came downstairs?

Through a dirty window, you could see Tommy spear the man onto a hook in the meat shed. Then, the chainsaw revved to life, and it made your stomach sick. You retreated under the desk, curling into a tighter ball, tuning it all out.

“TOMMY,” his mother cawed.

Having come out through the front door, she shuffled along the edge of the garage, into the red light. “Are you alright? Do you need help?”

The skirt of her long nightgown was gathered in one hand, and she held a lantern in the other.

She went around the house, toward the light, and the light turned off.

“Good boy,” she said. “Now leave this ‘til tomorrow, so your father can get back to sleep.”

Tommy left the chainsaw behind. placed a hand on his mother’s back, and rushed her toward the front door, pausing to steal a glance in your direction.

“Look at you,” his mother held the lantern up toward his chest while they were paused. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

She looked tiny, with her head turned up to look up at Thomas’s face. He brought her toward the door, and she made him promise he’d come in and wash up before going back to bed.

Tommy set you down in the wood shed, swaddled tightly in a blanket. He situated you on the floor, then stood up. Still fuming, his chest heaved, his eyes were wild, and his hands twitched by his side. “I'm sorry,” you apologized, not completely sure for what. For not staying under the desk? That was the main thing, but you also felt guilty for thoughts he didn't know about. Thoughts of leaving, getting rescued. You were conflicted. Could he sense it?

“I can't,” you began, unsure how to explain this to him. “Thank you for saving me,” you said. “I want to stay with you… but sometimes…” You freed your hands from the blanket, and began to resituated it around yourself.

His watched and squinted.

“I get scared,” you went on. “There's so much danger here… I don't know.”

Tommy huffed and turned his back on you. He shut the door behind him. You heard the chain scraping as he locked up. You curled up on your side, leaving the blanket tightly wrapped around you, and cried yourself to sleep.

It was a deep sleep, with fatigue in your bones. Ever since he’d been keeping you in the shed, your sleep was frequently disturbed by noises of the night, physical discomforts, and the eerie air about the property. If you woke up in the night, your heart would thump and it’d take time to get back to sleep. Sometimes it’d take until dawn. It wasn’t a real life, but you were lucky to be alive. That was more than you could say for your friends. But this sleep was different… this sleep was so deep that even when disturbed, you hesitated to wake up…

Even when the chains and padlock scraped against the shed door in the middle of the night again, it took you time to register what was happening, and even then, your heart rate didn’t shoot up as it normally would, but your heart did thump with dread. What would you do if there were another trespasser? What if he got in? There seemed to be no good answer. You couldn’t stay there forever, but you couldn’t bear to leave Tommy. Resigned to the grim reality, your temples ached and your throat was sore with tears you dared not shed out loud. You would pretend to be asleep or dead. You wouldn’t risk an escape going wrong.

As the shed door was forced open, you heard the familiar rasp of his breathing. Still, you didn't open your eyes until he shut the door behind him and thudded heavily over to your corner. He had made a pillow out of the big flour sack and he had a patchwork quilt with him.

He draped the quilt over you, then held the pillow and observed you sleeping, considering whether to lift your head or let you be.

He lay down on the floor next to you, under the quilt, with the pillow under his freshly washed hair. Then he pressed his warm hand against your back. He pet your back through your button-down shirt-dress, then held his palm still against your back. After a long moment, he moved his hand down your side, lightening his touch.

You rolled over and looked at him.

“Good,” you said. “Good, Tommy. Thank you.” He was there to protect you in the night.

He laid on his side and held you close to his chest under the quilt. Then, when you were asleep again, began to pick at the blanket you were wrapped in under the quilt. He loosened the blanket, unswaddling it, and your loins began to tingle as the layer was removed.

He held you close to him again, then rolled into his back.

He adjusted you so you were hugging his thick torso.

He was the best pillow you could have asked for in that moment. The most comfortable sleep you'd had since ending up on that property. His stomach rose and fell under you, lulling you to sleep with him.

Two heavy hands held you against the mass of his strong body- one hand on your back, and one on your rear.

When the sun began to hint at coming out but while it was still below the horizon, you woke up throbbing between your legs.

Tommy had shifted you and adjusted himself so his dick was wedged between your bodies as it thickened and hardened in his slumber. The massive shape of it against your belly made you tingle. It made you weak with arousal.

Lulled by the rhythm of his breathing, your fatigue overpowered your desire, and you fell back to sleep.

When you woke up again, there was another rhythm.

He was moving you against his cock.

Perhaps without thinking, but your shirt-dress had rode up, and his had been unbuttoned, tugged out from under you so the smooth naked skin of his shaft was hot against your belly.

Hugging his barrel chest, you found comfort in his skin on yours and the softness of his chest hair under your cheek.

You didn't look at him.

He felt even bigger with your eyes closed. It was a mountain of a man you slept on, with your head tucked into his neck.

You couldn't be certain exactly when he woke up, but at some point, his breathing became heavy with want, and his fingers roamed. They pressed into the backs of your thighs, prodded at the pool between your legs, and you were nudged upward on his body.

He fumbled with his erection, nudging at your entrance. You gasped, and a growl escaped

his chest. When he had himself lined up, he eased you onto him, moving his hips, thrusting. At the same time, he braced you by your hips and pushed you down his shaft.

Even in your most aroused state, the intrusion was massive, almost too much.

You held your breath as the tip breached the first inch of your cunt, pushing you open as he sheathed himself in your warmth.

Then he thrust in quick pulses, easing his heft into your tight pussy, splitting you open with his girth. And when he was fully buried in your wet pussy, he let out a ragged breath and stopped moving. His sturdy torso relaxed under you and his cock twitched, snug in your warmth.

He growled, and it was more of a purr, like a big cat. Remaining perfectly still in the warmth of your cunt, his chest rose and fell under you and reached a rhythm so steady it told you he was back asleep.

With your bodies joined and his big hands on your back cradling your much smaller frame against him, you felt safe.

The man who could snap you like a twig, sturdy as a tree, instead was your protector.

You dreamed you were riding a horse in the Hewitt field, and the dry yellow grass was stained red and black, matted to the dirt in some parts.

There was a rusty bicycle on its side with a wheel spinning and a girl running her hands through the wheat that swayed in the wind. In a little white dress, the girl looked up with a smile, then ran away, dragging her fingers against the wheat as she skipped.

You had the sense that she was skipping toward danger. But what were you supposed to do about it? It wasn't your land. It hardly felt like you belonged.

You could put her on the horse with you and gallop somewhere, but where? To the city? What would you do with her?

Her dress was old and white like the house, and the hem scraped the dirt at the edge of the wheat field. She seemed to know what she was doing more than you. She was comfortable and confident.

Then, an older woman called out, “dinner's ready.”

The girl's smile fell, but it was too late for you to help. She put on a brave face, held her head high, and began to skip again - slower, feet dragging.

You couldn't make your horse move. They disappeared into the distance.

Then, you dreamed that you were on vacation, Tommy. A normal vacation.

His face was bare, handsome and freckled, with a strong jaw and long hair in a ponytail. He held your small hand in his, led you toward a beach, and watched your face.

You relaxed and smiled.

‘Let's go in,’ he said, but not out loud. You heard a voice in your head, husky, deep, and kind, but it didn't come from his mouth.

“Where?” you asked.

‘In the water,’ he said. “I've got you.” He put his hands on your waist and hoisted you against him, hugging you to the chest as he waded into the water.

His fat fingers were in your hair when you woke up, and his cock, as thick and stiff as ever, was hugged tight by your pussy.

You lifted your head and shifted your hips, earning a slow thrust in response. You moaned and looked up at him and he stroked your face with his big thumb.

Pushing yourself up on him, you whimpered as you sank deeper onto his cock. His broad chest was framed by each side of his open shirt, and his middle was littered with nicks, cuts, and raised scars.

“Good morning,” you whispered, and a glint came alive in his blue eyes. You moved your hands to his tummy as you sat more upright. His hands went to your hips, holding you firmly, making sure you weren't going anywhere.

“I'm not going,” you said. He relaxed, but kept his hands there. You placed your own hand firmly against your belly, curious if you could feel the shape of him from the outside. He was so big, it felt like he took up all your space.

Your thighs were spread wide.

He grunted with a slow thrust.

There was nothing left but you and him.

The way he looked at you gave you the confidence to play with him. The way he looked at you, like he'd never seen a woman sitting on his cock.

It made you want to give him a show.

You unfastened the remaining buttons on your shirt carefully as he watched, shifting his hips a couple of times, making you gasp as his erection nudged your cervix.

With your blouse fully open, you massaged your breasts, moved your hips. Using your hands for leverage, you bounced yourself on his cock, starting slowly. You did it just a few times, enough to see the animal behind his eyes come alive. He reached for your breasts. His eyes poured over you like he didn't know what to do where to start.

You lifted and bounced yourself, keeping your quads tensed, hands pressed into his hairy flesh, pulsing up and down. Leaning forward, you grinded yourself against his stomach and let some of his length out to relieve your cervix. His middle moved with each grind of your hips, and his nostrils flared. His breath became more labored. His eyes darkened and he grabbed your ass with a bruising possessiveness. Then, he began to manhandle you on his cock like you were an extension of his hands, wrapped around his dick. When pleasure spread across your face, his wild eyes were captivated.

He grunted, and you gushed. The pale light of the pre-dawn hours had grown as the sun rose.

The sunrise was visible in his eyes.

With his hands holding you steady, you bent forward, rolled your hips, and the pressure burst in your depths. Your mouth fell open with a breathy moan, conscious of your volume. Scared to make noise. Terrified of everything but him, and everyone but him in that moment.

He growled and sat up, gripping your hips and pulling himself up by pulling you closer to him. He wrapped his arms around you, and his cock twitched, pulsing warmth that made you sigh and swoon, weakening in his arms with the overwhelming pleasure.

When you opened your eyes again, Tommy had laid you down with your head on the pillow and was thumbing at your face. Seeing you awake, relief softened his eyes. He looked at you like he didn't know how such a pretty thing could be his. Like he hoped he wouldn’t break you.

***

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[knightyoomyoui]

Perfect Night [+18]

ft. LE SSERAFIM's Yunjin (x M Reader)

NOTE: First fic of my 2025 comeback and marks as a beginning of my new masterlist! SUMMARY: YN and Yunjin both won an award in a Korean music award show. Coincidentally, it happens in the same day as their anniversary. They went home for an indoor date as a celebration. After the date, Yunjin doesn’t want it to be over yet so she requested one last thing for them to have fun and make their night even more perfect. REQUESTED BY: @dav1233555

WORD COUNT: 3100+ (told yall the 2k max for normal request plan still depends lol) DONATE OR REQUEST FOR COMMISSION HERE: https://ko-fi.com/knightyoomyoui

The artists and their respective fans that filled up the Mizuzo Paypay Dome in Fukuoka, Japan has their ears and eyes all glued to the presenters of the awards for tonight’s 39th Golden Disc award show.

The two presenters were standing in the middle of the stage, the trophy in their hand, as well as their microphone to announce the winner of the category set to be awarded next to that deserving artist.

All of the nominees were shown in the screen, each earning different levels of cheers from their fans who made it in the attendance. After the familiar faces made an appearance, the presenters have been given a cue now to speak. “And now, the 39th Golden Disc Awards for the Best Group goes to…” the host flips the cover of the card to view the name. He pursed his head forward onto the mic and revealed: “LE SSERAFIM!” The blended sound of cheers and applause echoed around the dome. The camera then pans to the five members of the group that was mentioned all have the glee in faces hearing the name they represent called out for an overwhelming reward to their hardwork. They all rise up to their seats, lined up as they walk through the stage while being guided by the staffs of the show. As they made it, the hosts greeted and congratulated them for an another accomplishment in their career. Amongst the crowd watching, there’s you at one of the VIP tables along with other fellow artists eyeing with sincere support and happiness for that group, especially to that one particular woman who did the honor of receiving the award and came up to the front to begin the acceptance speech. Hearing your girlfriend, Huh Yunjin’s voice blasting through the speakers as she stated out her utmost gratitude for everyone who made it possible for them to bag an award tonight was music to your ears. There’s nothing more you can’t be easily get tired of listening than Yunjin in a bright mood when you know she can easily make your day as well. “Thank you so much to our FEARNOTS who voted for us and never stopped being on our side, appreciating our music everytime we do one. We will also continue to do our best on entertaining you guys, We love you!” Yunjin waves the trophy in the air as she was joined by her other co-members on shouting the last line. Before they leave the stage, Yunjin saw you clapping your hands and gave you a wink. You grinned wider and mouthed “I love you too” on her in response to what she said. It earned a blush from her when she understood it.

Another minutes of a performance from other artists have passed and now it was time for another announcement of winner in a category. This time, it was for the Most Popular Male Artist. It warms your heart hearing their cheers from some of your fans after seeing your face being one of the nominees. Whether you win an award or not, it didn’t matter for you anyway, as having a fanbase of your own already meant that you have become successful in your music career.

“For the 39th Golden Disc Awards’ Most Popular Male Artist, please come up to the stage:” “Yeah there’s no way I would be-”

“Song Y/N!” “Oh, wait what?”The spotlights, cameras, and people’s attention were all directed in a snap at your spot, looking confused and astounded. You weren’t expecting that this night wouldn’t be just a normal music show event you’ll be attending again, but there was something more for you to experience. You stood up and went to the stage. The emcees Cha Eunwoo and Moon Gayoung approached and shook hands with you before they handed you the award. As you stood on the platform, you took a deep breathe as you prepare your speech for the night. As you were there pouring out words that came straight from your heart, you were staring at Yunjin who is looking at you proudly. Her dazzling eyes and soft smile at you keeping you composed and more confident that you truly did deserve this award just as much as hers. “To my fans who keeps on reminding me that all my efforts I’ve been giving to my songs were always worth it, this one for each and every single one of you. We did it guys, thank you so much!” You bowed and waved to the public before you made your exit with joy.

After the show ended, both you and Yunjin excused yourselves to your managers and to her co-members that they’ll be meeting each other for tonight. They accepted since they are already the reason why. The reason that is related to your current private relationship with Yunjin. As Yunjin sneaks through the backstage with the help of her manager and some bodyguards, she then met you waiting at the parking lot. She dashes through you and you accepted her hug with open arms. “I’ll take it from here, thanks noona.” “Yeah enjoy your night, you two.” She greeted and waved away. As the manager brought the bodyguards along, Yunjin separated from you and glances straight through your eyes. “Look at you hotshot, winning an award as well huh.” she teased, patting you in the chest. “Yeah I didn’t see that coming. Thought its SEVENTEEN or others as well since they’ve been kinda trending all over social media too.” you responded humbly. “Probably you got back against them through streams and other criterias that lacked, I guess.” Yunjin shrugged. “But hey, there’s no doubt that whether you won or not, being considered for that award is already a big deal.”

Yunjin takes out her own trophy and clangs it at yours. “It’s just so happens that you were the lucky one to be chosen. Or should I say, WE?” “Congrats to us, love.” you kissed her on the lips. “There you go, savor the feeling of victory.” Yunjin said amusedly. “Let’s go home now. I want to get out of here, please.”

“Excited are we?” “More than you think. Well can you blame me? We’re about to turn our date into a double celebration.” She opened the door of your car and hopped in. “Damn right it is.” Both of you buckled up your seatbelts and you drove yourselves all the way to your apartment in Seoul. Reaching your room, you and Yunjin took off your shoes and placed your other belongings on the couch. “How about you go cook our dinner and I go prep up the table for us?” You originally planned to do all of this on your own and have her take a breather for a while as she rests because you don’t want to tire her more, but then again it made sense since this day is actually for the both of you and after you heard her enthusiasm earlier, you just allowed her initiation to join you on making this night special.  “That’s sounds good, let’s do it.”

You quickly went to the kitchen, prepare all the ingredients and cook the chosen food you wanted for the both of you that fits tonight’s occasion. Yunjin on the other hand was busy covering the tables with new cloth, arrange the plates and utensils, and and some bit of romantic element around the dining place.

Yunjin can’t help but to be shook and amazed that you were literally taking this seriously with the candles and rose petals you told to her to design with. Right when she created a lovely ambience, you have now served all the foods on the table.

Removing your apron and straightening the crumpled surfaces across her dress, both of you faced each other and looked at the satisfying result of your combined efforts to make your indoor date successful.

“Oh, be right back for a sec, I’ll just gonna grab something.” 

“Sure, I’ll wait.”

Yunjin watched you head through your bedroom. Her eyes widened when she heard the door open wide again and unveiled your standing figure holding a bouquet full of her favorite flowers in your arms.

“Oh my… YN, they look so pretty!  And these are- wow, did you seriously went with an effort of buying this for me?” she asked, with her hands on her agaped mouth.You responded with a chuckle before flashing a boastful smile.

“How could I forget? Happy 2nd anniversary to us.” Yunjin smiled. 

“Shall we begin our celebration with a toast?” She chuckled before nodding her head. Yunjin then dropped the flowers on the couch and gratefully accepted you gentlemen act of offering the seat to her.

As you sat, you reached for the wineglass, opened the bottle and poured each pair before raising it together with her.

“To our love and success.”

“And for many to come and last longer.”

“Cheers?”

You collided your glass gently on Yunjin’s before drinking the alcohol.

An hour has passed filled with your exchange of stories, laughters, and clanging sounds from your plates. You were already full and Yunjin was just emptying the bottle of wine.

“I think we had it all for today, huh.” You said. “Yeah, having an indoor date for the first wasn’t so bad after all then.” Yunjin shared her pleased reception for your decision. “Told you I can make everything wonderful just for my girl.” You squished her blushing cheeks. I’ll go to change now, babe. I want to sleep-”

“Already?” She interrupted you, snapping her head to your direction.

“Why? You haven’t had enough.”

“Nooo, I’m not through yet.” Yunjin pouted. “I still want to do one more thing.”

“Seems like you’re drunk now, babe. You really having fun, aren’t you?”

“Why, don’t you feel the same?” She playfully sulked. You walked beside her and pushed her head against your midsection, combing her hair.

“Stupid, ofcourse I’m not. I can’t get enough of you anytime.”

“You sure about that?”

“Mmmhhmm. What, do you want me to prove it to you or something?”

“What if I am?” She looked up at you. You saw the aura in her face changed into something seducive. Her hand began to rub through your shirt before her fingertips bump at your lowest button. “And I want you to show me in this way.”

“Would you do it with me? To make this night perfect?” She asked you breathily as she starts unbuttoning your buttons. With just a huff and a nod, Yunjin hastily then moved her hands toward your belt.

She unfastened it and opened your pants before she pulled it down. The outline of your hardened shaft laying diagonally against your left thigh made her bite her lower lips.

“That’s why you suck at lying sometimes, babe. Your words ain’t as honest as your body when you’re close to me.”

Yunjin slightly pushed you away for her to have some space as she knelt down before you. Cupping the bulge that charms her intoxicated self, she playfully squeezed it through the prison fabric before hooking her fingers at the waistband. “Mhm I love how huge and stiff it gets because it’s mine~”

That one swift move of Yunjin made you bare naked from below, especially your cock springing out from its confinement, pointing at her in which she giggled at how cute it reacts because of her despite of its dominating size.

Yunjin took ahold of your hardened shaft from the base and rained your entire length with kisses and licks up through the head. She finds your skin following her grasp as she strokes you up and down, edging you for a minute by releasing it and watching it twitch for her.

“Fuck, Yunjin. J-just get through it, please.”

Yunjin smirked, feeling an inch of pity for you. She fortunately followed, lifting your cock and sniffing its musky scent before directing it to her mouth and began sucking you. 

You released a huge sigh and placed your hand to her skull, petting and guiding her through your cock as she slurps your appendage inside her warm mouth. Her puckered lips crossing through the foreskin gets you gritting your teeth in sensation..

Based from your relaxed expression, your heaving breaths and trembling hands in her head, Yunjin can tell that she’s doing well with her oral performance, so she proceeded on coating your cock with her saliva, gliding her tongue through every inch.

You looked down and shivered, matching Yunjin’s stare at you while she gives you an amazing blowjob. She’s now sucking the half of your shaft with her fist pumping on the other. She released with a popping sound and sighed, gulping while she continues on jacking you off.

“Shit, Yunjin I’m about to-”

“You’re close?” Yunjin got alerted. “Give it all. In my mouth.”

You nodded. Yunjin returns your slimy cock on her mouth and did a series of deepthroats at you this time as you help her by pushing your hips. Each attempts awakens your senses more with the choruses of her gag reflex absence.

“Fuck… fuck, Yunjin I’m cumming.” You said. Both of your hands are now gripping on Yunjin’s hair. Few more pushes through her face, you felt a streak of hot spunk emerge from your tip straight onto her throat.

You kept her gaped mouth around the thickness of your meat for a second before slowly sliding her off and giving her a chance to breathe heavily. She then swallowed your load and licked some of your pre-cum in her fingers as well as some drops in your tip by tapping it onto her tongue.

“So yummy. That was a lot of a dessert.” Yunjin was impressed. “But I’m sure you still got more left in here, don’t you?” She cupped your balls and massaged it.

“Oh yes I am… and you can have it as much as you want, babe.” Confirming that you’re liking where is this going, you helped her to stand up and pulled her through your bedroom. You finally take off your coat and polo as Yunjin goes to pounce at your neck, giving you some hickeys to remember your heated session for tonight’s date once you woke up tomorrow.

You went through her thighs up to her ass, feeling the panties covering its smooth skin. She yelped at your touch before you stole a kiss again on her lips. Your hands went to the front to get a brush on her soaked slit.

Yunjin whimpered to your mouth. In return, she grabs your semi-erect cock and pumps it back to life. You lift off the hem of her dress and throw it aside, the red laced bra shielding her small mounds became evident at you.

Pushing your idol girlfriend to the bed, you bundled her skirt around her waist and tugged her panties down. Witnessing her dripping cunt, you didn’t want to waste the syrupy liquid so you went with a long slurp of her pussy three times until the juices partly stop.

Yunjin mewled at the feeling of your face against her ass and your talented mouth on the sacred cavern where it rightfully belongs. You kissed each of her asscheeks before slapping them in preparation for what you’re about to do after.

Pushing your now awakened cock again, this time to her tight inviting asshole. It slowly accepted your length, Yunjin shuddered at your cock invading her insides slowly but dangerously. She gripped on to the bedsheets as she noticed her body now rocking with yours as you hump onto her ass, skin to skip slapping playing across the room.

“Fuck, go harder! Shit, oh god how I’ve missed this so much!” Yunjin shouted, acknowledging the longing memory of the last time you and her did this before the long scheduling conflicts affected both of your sexual life.

You used the bundled skirt and her waist as a handle as you continously ravage her plump ass. 

“You’re so fucking tight, babe. I might not hold on any longer!” 

“And you’re too big! Fffuck I’m going first!” Yunjin elicited one last loud “ugh!” before you felt your thighs being showered with her squirt as you still played with her clit for stimulation.

You pulled Yunjin’s upper body, unwrap her bra which you threw aside like nothing, and grope her bare tits from behind. She kissed you to the side while she rubs her rear into your cock.

You decided to switch positions, with you now laying on the bed and Yunjin still buried within your dick, her sexy toned back faced towards you. She ain’t no dumb to miss the point of where it’s about to go, she then began to bounce slowly at your lap as you watched her fulfill her desire.

“Shit, that’s fucking hot, babe. Goddamn.” You sweared watching your baddie girlfriend twerk her voluptous ass against your crotch. Meanwhile, Yunjin is now eyes shut with horny evidence within her face doing what she loves.

A couple of adjustments of her thighs caged around yours as she rides you, she tries to stir your cock around her ass in different angles as possible while bouncing harshly before you decided to take the show to its end as you now about to reach your peak.

You catched Yunjin’s arm and spun her around to join you on the bed.She went close, you cuddled her and roughly pounded her from behind as you spent the last stamina you have in store to make this stunning woman of yours filled to the brim.

She goes along with your mouth, while you grope her breasts and fingered her fast to boost her stimulation. Yunjin moaned loudly at the pleasant effect of your manhood and digits taking control of stretching her innards.

“Oh god don’t stop, don’t stop! Fuckkk mmhmmm yes yes yes ahhh YN I’m cumming!”

Bump after bump after bump relentlessly to her abused ass, you grunted as you released another large load deep inside of her while she squirted another into your hands, staining the bed.

You helped her ride out her orgasm as you slowly withdrew your active fingers through her pussy along with few more curves. Slicked with her love juices, you slurped and gave Yunjin a taste of her own resolution also.

Slipping your limp cock into her ass, Yunjin holds your arm cuddling around her exhausted body as both of you rest from your activity. She gritted in satisfaction as she felt some of your cum escaping through her used hole, making a trail through her cheek down to the sheets.

“What a perfect night we have.” Yunjin said with a smile of satisfaction. She may have not looked at you, but the firm squeeze she did within your grasp made you feel its sincerity more. “I love you so much,YN.”

“I love you as well, Yunjin. More than you know.” You swept off some sweat and loose strands of her hair away from her beautiful face then smooched her on the crown before falling asleep together with her by your side.

[seresinhangmanjake]

What He Likes

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: When five daughters of Great Houses arrive on Giedi Prime, Feyd is meant to select one as a wife. But out of all of the foreigners on his territory, it is the Princess of Kaitain’s handmaid that catches his eye.

Notes/Warnings: Feyd is possessive as usual.

Words: 3100

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen likes what he likes. There’s no complexity to it. No hidden criteria. What he likes is decided in a straightforward manner based solely on gut instinct, and questions of whether or not it is wise to like what he likes do not follow. He simply sees a thing, enjoys how it looks, and therefore, likes it.  

When the eligible women of five Great Houses stand before him in a neat little row, he likes none of them. Four Ladies and a Princess, all of whom do not hit him in the gut with that feeling, and all of whom have flaws fatal to the name of House Harkonnen. 

Atreides—a lame attempt at a peace offering. Fenring—a Bene Gesserit witch. Corrino—a spoiled, royal brat existing under the shadow of her eldest sister. And the other two, Kenric and Wallach, have faces he cannot be expected to look upon for the rest of his life. 

Not one brushes the cusp of satisfactory. Not one is good enough to take for a bride. But then, as he dismisses them so they may return to their quarters before the evening meal, Feyd spots a thing he likes. 

The Princess’s handmaid. A woman who pays him not a lick of attention as she trails the royal out the door. A woman who forces the pace of his heartbeats to thump twice as fast.

Perfect, he thinks. Stunning.

And without hesitation, Feyd selects his wife. 

—

Reader POV

“The na-Baron has sent a guard to collect you,” Fenring’s handmaid informs you as she comes back into the room, tying a robe around her waist and plopping down on her assigned bed beside Wallach. 

A lump settles in your stomach. The na-Baron—the man who has encouraged your future demise at the hands of the Great Ladies due to the attention he has neglected to provide them in favor of keeping his eyes on you. 

Over seven days, they’ve been ignored entirely, as has his sense of propriety. He has invited you to dine beside him, filling your plate before bothering to notice if the women of high status have had their plates filled. He has asked you questions and listened attentively to the answers you’ve felt obligated to provide. He has ensured you’ve had a seat of phenomenal vantage to witness his arena duels, seeking you out and smirking at you as lifeless bodies slide off of his blade. 

For every new morning there comes a new method of making fools out of the women who could have your neck sliced open should they so choose. And now, so it seems, he intends to bring that trouble into your nights.

“Why?” you ask, trying to cast aside the painfully obvious. You would be thrilled if one of the other handmaids could chime in with something unexpected, something not nearly as vulgar as what you’re imagining he wants from you. 

Wallach and Fenring shoot you a look that suggests you can’t possibly be so ignorant. 

“Why do you think?” Atredies says. “I’m surprised it took him this long.” She swipes a comb through her long locks before pointing the end of the tool at you. “You need to find a way to end whatever this is before it gets you executed. Our Ladies are just as irate over the situation as the Princess.”

Irate—a gentle word. Requests from the Princess have been trivial to a degree you’ve never before dealt with in her servitude. She has snatched any opportunity to humiliate you, degrade you. It is a burden you have shouldered with grace, but so long as the na-Baron refuses to find enjoyment in your torture, your unprotested compliance will continue to mean nothing to the Princess. 

You wish he would laugh with her, just once. It would do you a world of good. But he’s not required to amuse the Princess. He does not have to bow to anyone since the Harkonnen’s growth in power shifted the hierarchy of the Houses. 

“What do you propose I do?” you ask. 

“Let him have you,” Kenric says. “Let him get you out of his system. If he’s no longer infatuated with you, he will finally choose a bride.”

You blanche but you do not immediately dismiss her suggestion. Kenric’s handmaid is older than you by at least a decade, and when she speaks, the rest of you listen. She has watched handmaids come and go from the mistakes they have made. She has seen how replaceable a young woman of humble birth with a limited skill set is. She knows the fights worth fighting and the fights worth surrendering, and there is much to be learned from her experience. 

“That simple?” you say. 

“If you make it that simple,” she replies with a nod. Then she grabs you by your shoulders and spins you around, lightly shoving you toward the door. “It’s for your own good. So go.”

Your heart batters your ribcage as you recover from a stumble. Your first steps are hesitant, unsure if you’re doing the right thing. But you collect yourself, and without looking back, you continue onward, coming face-to-face with a towering figure; pale, a ghost stark against the shadowed hallway. 

“Do not lag behind,” is all he says before he turns on his heel.

You follow him through darkness, past door after door, rounding corner after corner until he finally halts and gestures for you to enter a room. Knowing it isn’t a choice, you step inside. 

You’re relieved to find the space decently lit from the glowing orb of white light hovering near a desk. You scan the area. His bedroom, each inch of it covered top to bottom in black. Painted walls, marble floors, drawn curtains, furniture—all a shade so deep that if you peer too long at any given section, your mind will begin to play tricks on your vision. 

“What’s your name?” suddenly greets your ear in a gravelly voice. Your body flinches and your head whips in the direction of the sound. Somehow, you hadn’t noticed him leaning on the wall with his arms crossed, his brow low, his chin tilted toward his chest. 

He stares at you. Intensely. Unceasingly. A gaze that reaches past what you’ve witnessed in your lifetime. You’ve seen a lover’s stare between couples, but this is different, and it’s clear you’ve lived naive to how deeply a man can look at a woman. 

Heat blooms on your face. “My name?” You hadn’t noticed that he’d yet to ask. To be fair, though, no one ever asks for your name. Perhaps he understands the danger of doing so in front of others. 

“You have one, I assume,” he says. “Or do I need to give you one?”

You frown. “I’m not a slave.”

The na-Baron’s lips twitch in a smirk. His chin lifts and you get a full view of his face. The angles of his cheekbones. The straight line of his nose. The edge of his jaw, sharp from the shadows butting up against his illuminated alabaster skin.

He’s beautiful—you can’t pretend otherwise. A rare kind of beautiful. The kind of beautiful that makes no sense. Strange, alien beauty that wreaks havoc on your heart rate. 

You haven’t let yourself appreciate just how beautiful he is prior to now, always making an effort to look downward in his presence. And thank goodness you had enough sense. Had you taken a moment to truly observe him, you might not have been able to resist admiring. 

“Then tell me your name,” he says, and gulping down the knot in your throat, you do as he asks. He tests the word on his tongue. He nods. “Good.”

“Good?”

“I like it,” he tells you. “Which means I don’t have to change it.”

You tamp down your offense, steeling your face as you remind yourself of how little control you have. A handmaid versus the na-Baron of Giedi Prime. Your odds are poor. 

“With all due respect, my Lord, what is it I can do for you?”

His eyes continue to be invasive, hungry, like the lions you used to read about in your spare time. Practically uncanny. The na-Baron captures the predatory glare of the beast so well that they could stand side-by-side and you would not be able to decide which of the two is more menacing.

Pushing off the wall, he slowly closes in on you until he’s a single pace away from colliding with your body. His smirk drops, then he says, “How would you like to be my wife?”

Your lungs seize. Death flashes before your eyes, a scene more horrific than what you’ve been conjuring over the last handful of days. Instead of the Princess’s hand around your neck, all of Kaitain will be chanting for your head on a spike. If they hear of the handmaid who went to Giedi Prime as a servant only to attempt stealing from the Princess, they’ll drag you to public slaughter. The handmaid who overstepped her bounds—let us make an example of her betrayal. 

“I asked you a question,” he continues, yanking you from your thoughts. 

You take a breath. “My Lord, I am not the offering from Kaitain. I am the Princess’s handmaid.”

Blue orbs lazily rake up and down your figure. You contain a shiver. “Yes, I have eyes.”

“Then you know she is the one for you to choose.”

“The Princess does not suit my taste,” he admits shamelessly, unbothered. His gaze falls to your lips, neediness passing between you as if he’s desperate to claim them with his own. It quickly fades, and he meets your eyes again. His voice is soft when he says, “The Emperor should not have sent you with his daughter. He knows what you look like. It is not my problem if he is foolish enough to tempt me with something better than what he views as his best.”

The dangerous flattery makes your stomach flutter, but then it flips unpleasantly. “There is no better choice than the Prin–”

“That was not a statement up for debate.”

Your teeth pierce the delicate flesh of your inner cheek. “You have many other options,” you say.

“And I have decided you are one of them.”

At your lack of retort, the corner of his lips quirk. He’s dead set, and you’re not sure you have the manipulative abilities to change his mind. Still, you try.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the blood for it, as you know,” you say in a final attempt. “Noble blood mixes with that of its status.”

“Noble blood does what it wants. That’s why we have all that we have, wouldn’t you agree?” he says, and you do agree. You have to. Noble blood knows only how to take. “There is no logic to me selecting the Princess. Should I marry her, you will be brought along as her handmaid, and she will find herself alone in a cold bed while I will be keeping you warm in mine. Is that the kind of marriage you think she envisions?”

He allows the question to hang in the air, and in that time, you imagine what he’s suggesting. You imagine the Princess shunned to another room. You imagine his body on top of yours in the bed that stands behind him, his mouth attached to your neck, sucking in time with the thrusts of his cock. Against your will, you imagine how he would feel, the pleasure he would grant you over and over, and you shake your head to banish the thoughts. 

It can never happen. You know what the Princess wants. Should she become the na-Baronness, she will want him as her husband in more than name alone, alliances solidified through multiple heirs, the power dynamic rebalanced. For that to occur, his affection and a willingness to sacrifice his dominance is required. And you cannot be the thing to throw that plan into a state of turmoil. 

“If I give myself to you now, will you be satisfied?” you ask. 

His brow pinches, the expression on his face nestling somewhere between irritation and confusion. “For tonight,” he says. “But what of tomorrow night, and the night after? Am I expected to have you once and never again?”

“Anything more will put my life at risk upon my return to Kaitain. If the Emperor learns of it, it will be an embarrassment, and regardless of whether or not you choose the Princess as your wife, he will have me killed for daring to be a threat to your union,” you tell him. “And if you do choose her and I return here as her handmaid—though I suspect she will be selecting a replacement soon enough—she will kill me the second she sees anything other than disgust on your face when you look at me.”

A beat passes. The na-Baron hums. He reaches up and takes a lock of your hair, rubbing the strands together and curling them around his finger. A wave of goosebumps makes its way up your arms. 

“Then I suppose you should not return to Kaitain,” he says. 

Your head jerks back. The hair falls from his grasp. “What?”

“If your life is at risk, then you will not leave Giedi Prime. The Princess can go, but not you. The Ladies, the other handmaids, I will send them back tomorrow,” he says. He leans down, his nose mere inches from yours. His breath blankets your skin. “But not you.”

“You can’t just do that,” you whisper, but you know they’re wasted words. There’s already an overarching sense of loss on your side of the room. 

His hand returns to your face and a gasp catches in your throat as his knuckle grazes down your cheek. 

“Of course, I can,” he says. “The Houses bend to Harkonnen will. I can do whatever I want; have whatever I like.” He cups your chin and runs his thumb over your mouth, pulling down on your bottom lip before releasing it. “And what I want is you. So I will have you.”

Your pulse thrums, ears ringing. “Solely for the sake of sating carnal desire. Being your wife is not nec–”

“Carnal desire is a present concern,” he says. “But I will not have another claiming you after I have done so. What’s mine is mine. You will be my wife, and in time, we will know one another in all ways.”

The uproar. News will spread like wildfire, and you are unlikely to survive its rage. The other Great Houses will do nothing, you know, as they do not have the means or might to push against the Harkonnens, but Corrino? The Emperor? 

Surely the na-Baron is aware of the intellect of Kaitain’s leaders. He must understand that the snubbing of the Princess will undoubtedly incite retaliation from the Emperor. And you’re fairly certain in which form that retaliation will come. Where the Sardaukar's strength would fail against Harkonnen forces, their assassins’ infiltration would not.

“I’ll protect you,” he says. “If they dare, I’ll protect you.” 

You could scoff. 

Protect you. Why bother?

Surely, he doesn't want you enough to go to those lengths. You aren’t import–

Suddenly, his hand is sliding around to the back of your neck, and your face is involuntarily heating, and he's muttering a faint “come here” as he quickly draws you into a kiss.

There’s a softness to it that offsets his hardness. A gentleness in the caress. But he has caught you unprepared, cut you off at your thoughts, and the shock has you planting your palms on his chest and shoving.

His lips are parted, his chest expanding and deflating with heavy inhales and exhales. He says nothing as unexpected regret sinks into you—regret that isn’t there simply because he is the na-Baron and you are a servant who shouldn’t be bold enough to interrupt him as he’s doing as he pleases, but regret rather because for that brief moment he felt…good, and you’re overwhelmed by the sense that you’ve cheated yourself. 

You want to try it again, just to see, just to test the feeling, just to understand why you crave more. So you let the tenseness in your shoulder muscles relax. Your heavy lungs release a long-held huff of air. He watches your guard collapse at your feet. 

Slowly, he reaches for you again, but he pauses just as you are ready to feel his touch as if expecting you to flinch, to run, to hide. You do none of those things, so his fingers knit into your hair and he guides your lips back to his. 

Soft still—gentle—but then it changes to passion and greediness, and like the strike of a match, every inch of you is consumed by a flushing fire. Your heart races. Your brain fuzzes. Appendages tremble until the pleasant pressure of his lips on yours settles into your bones. 

His tongue seeks entrance and you willingly open for him. When your tastes blend, his arm sneaks past yours to lock around your waist and he jerks you forward, welding your chest to his. 

The Princess slices through the haziness in your head and you feel the intrusive instinct to end what is happening, but you can’t quite bring yourself to do it. The capability is just out of reach, and it floats further and further away with each second of him kissing you; kissing you as if trying to prove to you how right this is. And you suppose he is succeeding because the thought of stopping makes your gut twist in protest. 

Then he groans—a sound that reverberates throughout your entire body, that makes your veins pulsate and your nerves tingle—and any lingering fear of the repercussions of betrayal dissipates to a barely detectable twinge; enough to permit the removal of your restraints. 

With newfound freedom, you grip his shoulders and attempt to bring him closer than physical bounds will allow. You let your tongue play with his. You nip at his lips. You think you’ve lost your mind, maybe slipped to an alternate universe where this makes sense, but his arm clutches you tighter, anchoring you to reality. 

Well before you’re ready, he breaks apart from you, and with great difficulty, you keep yourself from chasing after his lips like a magnet drawn to its other half. 

He grins at your obvious struggle. 

“You’ll do just fine as my wife,” he says, his hand coming around to cup your cheek. His thumb strokes back and forth along your cheekbone. Another peck lands on your lips. “You might even find yourself enjoying the position…and everything I intend to offer you.”

[covenofagatha]

Two professors and a student (Part 7)

Word count: 3100

Warnings: overstimulation, scissoring, strap-on, sex toys, use of safeword, smut, fluff at the end, degradation and praise, crying, aftercare

A/N: this is for everyone who requested major overstimulation lol also I think this will probably be the last chapter in this story unless i'm randomly in the mood to write more. hope everyone enjoys!

It feels like it’s been an hour before they come back into the bedroom, where you are tied up and completely at their mercy, but you know that realistically, it hasn’t been that long. 

What you do know is that you’ve cum four more times, despite your hardest efforts to stave off each orgasm; trying to fight the build up because you don’t know how many more you can take. 

Each time, your entire body seizes up and you let out a loud whine, hips moving furiously without your consent. You can feel the wetness literally leaking out of your hole and your clit is starting to hurt. You’ve tried desperately to untie your hands yourself but each time you’ve gotten close, you’re sent into another orgasm from the direct stimulation and it undoes all your progress. 

The door opens right as number five is weakly washing over you and both Agatha and Rio smirk at your thoroughly ruined state. 

“Please, please, it’s too much!” You cry, tears fully running down your face at this point. 

Rio tuts and slowly makes her way over to you, tracing a line up your sweaty thigh and her light touch makes you practically keel over. “Look at her, Agatha, she was begging to cum and now she wants to stop.” 

You sob, your entire body trembling. 

“Do you think she’s learned her lesson?” Agatha asks Rio, and it’s like you aren’t even in the room. 

Rio thinks for a moment and then reaches down and unties your legs so the vibrator is no longer being forced against you. You immediately scooch away from it and it feels like you can finally breathe, although you can still feel your pussy tingling, phantom vibrations still racking through your worn-out body. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” Agatha asks, cupping your cheek and rubbing the tears away. She makes quick work of untying your hands as well. You nod, completely and utterly spent. 

Rio chuckles darkly and you know whatever she’s about to say is going to be wicked. “I don’t know, Aggie, I think she has at least one more in her.” Your eyes widen and your mouth drops, but your heart jumps despite yourself. You still desperately want their hands on you. 

Agatha pretends to think hard for a minute. “You know, Rio, if you think about it, we denied her twice today. I think it’s only fair that we make up for that now. What do you think, baby?” 

But your breaths come out sharply. “I don’t know if I can, I don’t know if I can take any more.” You know that they are going to be the deaths of you. 

Rio coos mockingly and runs a finger through your folds, eyes lighting up when your hips buck involuntarily. “You sure about that, doll?” 

“If it gets too much, just say ‘cake,’” Agatha reassures softly, reminding you of the safeword you had picked out, and bends down to peck at your lips. “You want to be a good girl for us though, don’t you? Let us give you two more.” 

You nod, already feeling your pussy leaking at the thought, betraying you. “Okay,” you whisper hoarsely. Agatha moves down the bed to where Rio is standing, facing your open legs, and taps her finger to her chin. 

“Look at how pretty that pussy is, Rio,” Agatha says, and Rio hums in agreement. “Mama wants to feel it.” Hearing her call herself that makes you clench around nothing but your brows furrow in confusion: she’s already felt you, what does she mean? 

But then Agatha hikes up her dress and slides her underwear off before crawling on the bed over to you. She pushes open your legs, angles one up, and puts one of hers over your hip. Your heart skips a beat. Surely she isn’t–

And then she grinds down and her cunt slides against yours and an embarrassing loud noise rips out of your mouth. 

“God, baby, your pussy is so perfect, feels so good,” Agatha moans, moving slowly at first. You can feel everything and it is killing you in the best way. Her wetness slick against your skin, her folds, her clit, it’s so much. 

And then Rio positions herself behind you, lifting you up so you can rest your head against her stomach and watch Agatha ride you. 

You whine and try to roll against the older woman too, the need for pleasure steadily climbing back inside you even though you thought it wouldn’t, but Rio reaches down with one hand and holds your hips down. 

“Let her take what she needs, doll,” Rio says into your ear. Agatha groans on top of you and you can feel more of her wetness gushing out, only making it easier for her to move. 

The direct stimulation is a lot, even more so now, after you’ve cum so many times, but you can’t deny how good it’s feeling. 

And then Rio wraps her other hand around your throat, gently squeezing the sides, and your back arches, forcing your clit up against Agatha’s on a particularly hard rut and it makes you moan so deeply you feel it in your chest. 

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you chant, not even comprehending the words coming out of your mouth, the slight pressure on your throat making you dizzy, Agatha’s bare cunt against yours making you feel a way you’ve never felt before. Tears are falling from your eyes again and they blur your vision but you quickly swipe at them so you can watch Agatha moving up and down. 

Her rhythm is starting to get sloppy and you can see a flush on her upper chest spreading to her neck. Her hair is messy and she tosses it over her shoulder, making you clench around nothing. 

“Sweetheart, you feel so good, you’re going to make me cum,” Agatha pants, hips stuttering and jerking, trying to keep up a pace but failing. 

You can also feel the tug in your lower stomach, the same feeling you’ve now already felt seven times today. Rio squeezes your throat one last time and that’s it. 

Whimpering is the only thing you can do as the wave crashes over you weakly, and Agatha shudders on top of you as she also cums with small gasps. 

She slumps forward, catching herself with her arms on either side of your body, and leans down to capture your lips in a long kiss. Her hair falls around your face and it tickles.

“You doing okay, baby?” She whispers against you and you smile and nod, completely blissed out. All the thoughts in your head disappeared around orgasm number four and now there’s only these two women and you in the whole world. 

“Is it my turn now?” Rio asks from above you, interrupting whatever moment you and Agatha were having. Agatha tilts her head up to smirk at her partner and kisses her too, hard and filthy. When Agatha slips her tongue into Rio’s mouth, you genuinely have to bite back a moan.

And then Rio clasps her cheeks and it’s like they’re trying to eat each other’s faces and for some reason, it reignites the fire in your stomach. You undulate your hips ever so slightly, the movement against nothing somehow bringing you closer to the edge. 

You start breathing heavily, still working your hips, and you can hear the smacking sounds of their lips, their little moans. You can see their teeth knock against each other, their tongues tangling. It’s one of the hottest things you've ever witnessed and when Rio groans as Agatha sucks on her lip, you orgasm again. 

It’s small, just a tremor, but there’s no denying what it is. 

You can hear Rio chuckle as they both look down at you and you can feel your face heating up. 

“Did you just cum from watching us make out?” Rio asks, amusement curling around her tone. 

You try to look anywhere else to escape their smirks but you give in. “Maybe,” you mutter. “Can that count as my second one?” 

Agatha tosses her head back and barks out a laugh. “Oh, no, baby. That was just an extra. It’s Rio’s turn now.” 

The younger woman crawls backwards and your head drops down to the bed. You feel like you’re floating and you can vaguely hear her rummaging around behind you. 

Agatha brushes your hair and lightly strokes your cheek while you wait and even that little touch makes you wince. Your entire body feels so wrung out but also so sensitive. 

And then Rio steps back into frame with a harness and a strap-on and you heave out a breath. You don’t even have the strength to formulate a sentence and instead you just babble something incoherently.  

“You don’t have to,” Rio says, concern evident in her voice, but you shake your head. 

“M’okay, I can do it,” you insist, still slurring, and she gently pulls you by your ankles so your hips are at the edge of the bed and she’s standing between your legs. 

She rubs her cock up and down your slit, pressing the tip against your clit, and you let out a guttural sound and your body involuntarily jerks. “You’re just so desperate for us, aren’t you? Willing to take whatever we give you because you’re such a good girl for us, right?” 

You nod, unable to speak when she slides the tip into you. It goes in easily with how wet you are and your mouth falls open. The stretch is so good it’s almost painful and you gasp out your breaths. 

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Agatha purrs. “Tap me if it’s too much.” And she slowly slips two fingers into your mouth. You groan and begin sucking on them while Rio begins to push into your cunt. You bite down on Agatha from the feeling just enough for her to hiss but then she starts to match Rio’s leisurely thrusts. 

Having the double stimulation from Rio’s cock and Agatha’s fingers in sync has on you a different planet. 

“All this because you just had to misbehave,” Rio tsks, fucking into you harder but just as slow. “Again. You’d think you’d learn your lesson after the first time.” 

You make a muffled cry as she circles your clit with a featherlight touch and your hips buck. 

“Maybe she likes this,” Agatha says thoughtfully. “Acting out because she knows what’ll happen. Because she wants this to happen.”

Rio chuckles, beginning to pick up her pace and Agatha shoves her fingers deeper into your mouth, making you gag. You are so ruined that all you can do is just lie there and take it. 

“One or two orgasms isn’t enough for our baby doll,” Rio taunts and snaps her hips harshly, a muted cry clawing its way out of your mouth around Agatha’s fingers. “She’s insatiable. That’s why she pushes us until we have no choice but to give her what she wants.” 

“You hear that, sweetheart?” Agatha says, voice dripping with sugar. “This is what you wanted.” Her fingernails scrape against your tongue and you nod furiously, tears pouring out of your eyes. 

Rio presses harder on your clit and you mewl, your entire body squirming and lurching forward with the impact of her thrusts. 

“You look so pretty like this doll, like our little plaything,” Rio says hotly and you can hear the exertion in her voice. “Aggie’s fingers in your mouth, my cock in your cunt. God, wanna take a picture and frame it. Our desperate little girl is being ruined.” 

Moans of agreement enthusiastically leave your mouth and Agatha smirks above you.

“Look at her being shameless about it,” she says, amusement lacing her tone. “She can’t even deny how badly she wants us.” 

Rio shoves one of your legs up and holds it with her hand so she can get in deeper and you yelp when her cock feels like it’s hitting your cervix and then her other hand digs into your waist so hard you know you’re going to have marks. But the sting momentarily clears the fog in your head and you flick your tongue at Agatha’s fingers that are still fucking your mouth. 

Despite having cum so many times already, you can feel that pressure building up in you again. It feels like you’re going to pass out, but you stop trying to fight it and let your body slowly be taken towards the edge. 

“God, Rio, I think we’ve fucked all the thoughts out of her head,” Agatha laughs, your eyes dazing over as you start to surrender. “Our best student can’t even form a sentence now cause we’re fucking her so good.” Rio huffs and pounds into you even harder and Agatha’s fingers curl against your tongue. 

You start to garble around Agatha, trying to tell them that you’re getting close, but you’re not sure they actually understand you. You can barely tell what you’re trying to say.

But Rio smirks, so maybe she does. “Imagine if we kept her on edge and didn’t let her cum, Aggie,” she says evilly and you can see the interest on Agatha’s face. But your eyes widen more than they ever have and you frantically shake your head. “I think our doll is trying to say something.” 

Agatha simpers and pulls her fingers out of your mouth with a wet pop and wipes your saliva all over your face. 

“Well?” She demands expectantly. “Do you want us to do that? You said you didn’t think you could take more, so we don’t have to give it to you.”

Taking a deep breath of air, the words come pouring out of your mouth. “No, no, please, I can take it, please make me cum, I need it, need to cum.” 

Rio smirks and keeps up her same bruising pace and Agatha reaches down and pinches at your nipples roughly. You practically howl at the combination of pleasure and pain and it sends you straight over the edge. 

You don’t even know how many times you’ve cum at this point. 

But you know that you can’t take any more after this and you look forward to being able to calm down. 

Except Rio just keeps fucking you. The glint in her eye tells you she wants to see how much more you can take, but your body aches. Agatha’s hands tug and roll your nipples and it’s too much. 

“Cake,” you gasp and they both instantly stop. Rio gently pulls out of you and you wince at the empty feeling. Agatha strokes your hair while you take deep breaths and try to calm your shaking body. 

Rio grabs a blanket from the chair and wraps it around you while they position themselves around you, arms stroking up and down your body. 

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” Agatha asks softly. You make a soft sound of affirmation and rest your head against her chest. “You did so well for us, baby. You’re such a perfect girl.” She peppers kisses all over your face and your heart swells. 

“Hey, why don’t we get you in the bath?” Rio suggests. “Let’s get you all nice and warm and cleaned up.” You nod and they slowly help you stand on your trembling legs and walk you over to the bathroom. 

They sit you on the toilet seat while the water gets hot, mumbling sweet praises and brushing your hair soothingly. 

“Careful, baby,” Agatha warns, both of them taking one of your arms to help guide you down into the tub. You sigh happily at the warm water on your skin and Agatha delicately runs a washcloth over your skin while Rio washes your hair. 

“You took that so well,” Rio says, uncharacteristically gentle, but there’s something about it that makes you swoon. “We’re so proud of you, doll. You’re always such an angel for us.” You mumble out a thank you, still not having the strength to speak yet. 

They let you soak in the tub for a bit until the water gets cold and you start shivering. Agatha pulls you out while Rio dries you off. They help you step into pajamas that you’ve been keeping at their house. 

“Does that make up for this entire week?” Rio jokes and you splutter out a laugh. 

“Yes, more than enough,” you say, your voice still a little raspy. While all you wanted was some attention from your two favorite women, you had no idea that it would lead to this. 

But there’s no denying that they made up for the lost time. 

“Do you need anything to eat or drink?” Agatha says. You say no, but she goes and gets you some gatorade and peanut butter crackers anyway. The food and drink makes you feel instantly better and you have a surge of renewed energy.

Instead of leading you to their bed, which is soaked with your cum and sweat and probably tears, they take you down the hall into the guest room. You keep eating and sipping on the gatorade while they quickly take off the duvet. 

“We can turn on the TV if you want,” Rio offers, pulling back the sheets and motioning for you to slide in them. The silk is soft against your skin but all you want is them. 

You pat the spaces next to you and they chuckle and obey. “Can we just cuddle?” You ask, voice small. 

“Of course, baby,” Agatha purrs and her and Rio both wrap their arms around you so you’re cozier than you’ve ever been. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

You nod against her chest. “Yeah, that was perfect. I’m okay. I really like you guys.” And then you stiffen at opening up like that. There is no indication that they want more than sex with you and you just went and said that. 

But then Rio kisses your earlobe. “We really like you too, doll.” 

You squirm happily between them. “So we can keep doing this?” 

“Of course, baby. Maybe tomorrow we can go out to a nice dinner. Like a date,” Agatha says and you swear you could burst right now. 

“I’d like that,” you admit quietly, smiling to yourself. 

Agatha cups your cheek and presses a chaste kiss to your lips and Rio does the same after. 

“Now get some sleep, baby,” Agatha says. “You really need it.” 

Chuckling slightly at how true her words are, you drift off in no time, feeling more content than ever with the possibilities of a future with them yet to come.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You rendered Bradley speechless and left him wondering if your students were the ones who wanted to know what he looked like or if it was really you who was curious. He wanted to know everything about you, but the urge to ask for more was mingling with his duty to keep things professional. You and he teetered on the edge... until you didn't.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley looking hot

Length: 3100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley found himself homesick in a way he never did before. He still had weeks and weeks of this deployment to go, stuck on the aircraft carrier, endlessly curious about someone he barely knew anything about and a classroom full of kids he'd never met. But he felt like he wanted to know more about you and them. 

At least he was too busy now to dwell on the fact that it had been days since the last mail call. He was never one who was lined up, eager to collect something from a loved one. Vanessa and all of his other ex girlfriends never sent him handwritten notes or snacks. He'd gotten sporadic emails in the past, but nothing that made him smile and laugh out loud. Never anything that made him sad when he realized he had reached the end of the note, hoping for more.

He wanted to go back to the lounge and check his email, but he was afraid he'd have nothing new to read. There was really nobody else other than you who would send him anything right now, and he was sure you had something better to do with your time than comment on the photos he'd send of his jet and the engine parts. And even if you had written back, how long could he really keep this conversation with you going? How soon would you run out of interest in his deployment?

Bradley knew he'd be much better at talking to you in person, but how the hell was he supposed to get there? Jesus Christ, you were probably married. You probably already had someone back home wrapped around your fingers, and here he was, still thinking about you. 

"Pitiful," he muttered, making his way to the lounge anyway. He would keep it professional with you. One hundred percent. But he still wanted to know if your students got to see the photos and if they had any questions about them. 

When he logged into his email account, his heart skipped around a bit when he saw that he had something new from you. Then he opened it up and read it, and his lips parted softly in surprise at what you'd sent.

Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now. 

We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.

Bradley read it again. Still surprised, he read it a third time. Were you the one asking for the photo? It seemed like you might be. Or was he just projecting here? Shit. Maybe. He'd been thinking about how he'd respond if you asked him something personal, and this felt like you and he were teetering right on the edge.

You even echoed his own thoughts, but it still made him warm all over to know that you looked forward to hearing from him. That it made your day better when he sent an email. He decided he was going to keep this going as long as he could.

He logged out again and headed to the mess hall for dinner, because there was no point in responding until he had the photo you just asked him for. One where you'd be able to see exactly what every inch of him looked like. As he ate his meatloaf, his thoughts all settled on that one pertinent question: were your students really the ones who were curious about how he looked, or were you? Because it sounded like it could be the latter. He fucking hoped it was. And he fucking hoped you wouldn't be disappointed after tomorrow when he sent you exactly what was asked of him.

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

You thought you were ready, but you weren't. Not for this. Not for him. Not even close. Thankfully it was still early enough that none of your students were in the classroom with you, because Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw had responded to your slightly tipsy email from a few nights ago. He sent exactly one photo, and your only response was to softly moan, "Holy hell."

To say he was attractive looking standing there in his flight suit next to the jet with his name on the side of it would have been the understatement of the century. He was hot. Unbelievably hot. Top tier. You shamelessly zoomed in to get an even better look at his face which was complete with a crooked little smile and a fucking mustache.

"Who does he think he is?" you asked the empty room, voice filled with need. "The audacity."

Even his messy, wavy hair looked soft enough for you to want to rub your face and lips against it. Where did that idea come from? You uncrossed and recrossed your legs as the most delightful thoughts filled your mind. You already knew he was sweet, kind, attentive and humble, but now you knew he was easy on the eyes, too. If only you could hear his voice. 

After several minutes of uninterrupted gawking, you realized he'd written a few sentences to you as well, addressing you just as he always had. But this felt more personal. Maybe a little intimate.

For reference, I'm 6'1" and 205 pounds. That should give you and your kiddos a good size comparison, yeah? Also, just a little curious myself here.... are you sure they were the only ones who wanted to know what I look like? Or did you want to know, too?

So he called you out. Your whole body felt too hot and too light. You were floating off of your chair even as your heart pounded. You must be two feet in the air by now. He already knew what you looked like, but now you cared more than ever what he thought about you. Because you had a massive crush on your classroom pen pal.

"How embarrassing. You drunk emailed him! How are you supposed to respond to this?" you whispered as you closed your laptop and pressed your fingers to your lips. It was hard to tell if his tone was playful or not. He was smiling in the photo, which made you think that he was. But perhaps he was trying to put a stop to any topic of conversation that could be considered personal. 

Then it hit you like a bolt of lightning. No way was this man single. He was handsome. That would have been enough on its own. But he also had an impressive career, all of his hair, and he was tall. And that didn't even scrape the surface of his sweet personality! You couldn't embarrass yourself further. You just couldn't. You wanted him to keep writing to your class, because they were already so attached to him. You couldn't ruin this for them. 

When your students came flooding into the room, they led off with the same question they had every morning now. "Did we get anything in the mail from Lieutenant Bradshaw?"

"Not yet," you replied, still trying to decide how to respond to his photo. "But hopefully soon. He did email another picture though."

All of them were immediately headed for your desk, wanting to see what their pen pal looked like. You pressed your lips together, bracing yourself as you opened up that photo again, and then the kids all interjected into your thoughts.

"His jet is so cool!"

"It's huge!"

"He looks exactly how I thought he would!"

"Can he send us more stuff?"

It took you a good, long while to get them all into their seats. Clearly you weren't the only one who was entranced by him. Their questions overflowed, most of which still had to do with the aviation topics you'd been teaching them. Bradley Bradshaw had turned your classroom upside down, in a good way. And the more you thought about it, the more you just wanted to make sure you weren't missing out on something here. This man was better looking than the last three guys you went out with all combined, and he already made you feel tingly inside before you knew that for a fact.

You went home after work and did it again. You drank some wine and logged into your work email account and wrote back to him less than a day after he wrote to you. Part of you recognized that you'd look desperate, but you simply had to know so you could stop thinking about him if necessary. You started typing. 

It was definitely, absolutely my students who wanted to know what you look like. It had nothing to do with me. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. That being said...nice photo. Very nice.

My kids also wanted me to ask you if your spouse or significant other is in the Navy. And they'd like to know how old your kids are if you have any. Once again, just to be clear, I'm only asking these things on their behalf...

"Send," you whispered, doing it before you could stop yourself. Then you were left with your intrusive thoughts and the rest of the wine, ultimately deciding to just go to bed. He wasn't going to respond right away. He was busy working. You just hoped it didn't take too long. 

But it did. Days passed. You normally tried not to think about your work email account during the weekends, let alone check it. Saturday was miserable as you logged in almost hourly to check and double check if you had something new from Lieutenant Bradshaw. It was so bad, you ended up initiating a movie night with some of your friends, opting to lock your phone in the center console of your car rather than take it into the theater. 

Sunday was no better. You took yourself to the beach for the afternoon to try to read and sunbathe. But there was a group of guys in US NAVY TOP GUN shirts playing football, and you wondered if Bradley ever did this kind of thing with his friends. Or his family. Jesus Christ, why couldn't he just write back and tell you if he had a pretty wife and six adorable kids who loved to play football on the beach with him?

When two of the guys in the TOP GUN shirts purposely threw the football toward your towel and tried to play it off as an accident, you didn't even feel like returning their flirtatious banter. Neither of them had a mustache or soft looking brown hair. Neither of them left you wanting to know more. 

You went home and tried so hard not to check your work email, but you failed miserably. But then you were happy you caved, because he wrote back. Bradley Bradshaw actually responded again. And a few seconds later, you were giggling and trying to control the squeal that escaped your lips.

When the mail arrived on the aircraft carrier yesterday, I was one of the first officers in line, and I wasn't disappointed. I got the second box from your class, and I can't wait to start reading and responding to everyone's notes this week. I'll let you know when you've got more mail coming your way. 

Since your students seem to be showing quite an interest in my personal life, please let them know I actually don't have a spouse or significant other at all. Nor do I have any kids. Their letters (and your emails, too) are the only ones I'm getting this deployment. No one else has been writing to me. Nobody stateside is waiting for me. I hope that answers their questions to your liking.

And now it's your turn to answer a question for me. Is there a guy in your life who is going to try to beat the crap out of me if I tell you that I think you're gorgeous? 

I'll just be waiting impatiently for your response.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

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

Bradley was so tired. The kind of bone deep exhaustion that only comes after the completion of a dangerous mission when your adrenaline finally wears off. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to be back at home in his bed in San Diego with a soft, warm body next to his and a sweet voice in his ear. But he was picturing your face and your body, already convinced you'd have the sweetest voice he'd ever heard.

Shit. He needed to focus on what the admirals had to say instead of drift into daydreams.

"No need to report to the strategy room in the morning, Lieutenant," his commanding officer said as Bradley unzipped the top of his flight suit. "Take some time to rest."

He saluted the admiral and walked off toward his bunk and a hot shower. But even as the steamy water eased the ache in his muscles, he thought about how he already knew he wouldn't be able to sleep right now. Not when he still had a few messages from your students to respond to. Not when those notes always made him smile.

This time you'd only included a very short note in the box, but it wasn't typed up and printed out. It was written in your pretty penmanship on a sheet of lined paper.

Lt Bradshaw,

I hope this package finds you well. Please prepare yourself for approximately seven hundred more questions. Thanks again for sharing your time with us.

He didn't mind one bit. In all actuality, he was living for this shit, already thinking about how he could maybe visit your classroom someday soon. Several of the kids asked him if he could. They all asked him to take more pictures of life on the aircraft carrier. Then he laughed for a solid minute over the photo that Jayden sent of his Cocker Spaniel named Vanessa. 

But Bradley had purposely been neglecting his email inbox for the last few days. He was too afraid to read your words telling him that you were in fact taken, and that he was stupid for thinking you'd been the one who wanted to know what he looked like. He was rather enjoying the delusion that you might let him tell you how pretty he thought you were over email and maybe someday in person. He decided to respond to the rest of the notes in the box before getting rejected, otherwise it would be too hard to do this.

He finished writing back to Oliver and Cooper and then tucked the box away under his bed before drifting off to sleep while dreaming of his own bed. But the next day, he had literally no work to do. He's been given the entire day off. He hit the gym and avoided the married woman like the plague. Then he ate lunch and contemplated going back to the gym again, but his feet carried him to the lounge instead. At the very least, he promised you that he'd let you know when you had mail on the way so the kids could get excited. He should take the time to tell you he'd be sending more responses to your class by air mail.

Somehow Bradley had convinced himself so thoroughly that you were in a relationship, he almost couldn't fathom anything else. But there was a new message from you in his inbox, and it felt like a gift when he opened and read it.

Lt Bradshaw,

I must say, I was surprised to find out that my emails and the letters from my class are the only ones making their way to you. Not that I'm complaining. Not one bit. I just find it hard to believe that you don't have a lot of interested parties hoping for a chance to be the one you think about when you're deployed and all alone.

My last boyfriend didn't like it when I talked about my fourth graders. He didn't really see any value in what I do for a living. He would have never taken the time to read something they wrote let alone answer their questions individually. So no, there's nobody who would be upset with you for making me feel like there are butterflies permanently living in my belly now. If you want to tell me you think I'm gorgeous, I'm certainly not going to stop you.

Here's my personal, non school affiliated email address. Just in case you feel like using it. If not, you can keep responding here, and I can take the hint that we went far enough.

I hope you're doing well and staying safe.

Frantically, Bradley checked the date and time stamp. "Fuck," he growled, his fingers not quite able to keep up with his brain when he realized you'd sent this to him days ago. More than five days ago! "Shit. Fuck!" He had been keeping you waiting! As soon as he got his hands working at the same speed as his thoughts, he copied and pasted your personal email address and started a new thread like his life depended on it.

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

You were just curling up with a cup of sleepy time tea after a long day at work, wishing someone would put you out of your misery, when your phone vibrated on the couch cushion next to your leg. You were half tempted to ignore it, reasoning that it was probably time to accept the fact that Bradley Bradshaw already lost interest in you and delete his photos from your downloads folder. You should learn how to stop embarrassing yourself.

Then you glanced down and saw that you had a new email. It was from a now familiar sender. It had been sent to your personal account. You immediately scrambled to unlock your phone and read it.

Hey, Gorgeous,

I'd like to take it further.

Yours Truly,

Bradley Bradshaw

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

What the fuck, Bradley, you smooth man! Take it further, take it further, take it further! I love how impatient they get when they want to hear from each other. Now go ahead and get a little more personal. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who sent me messages and asks about this fic.

PART 4

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[backinmyphase]

Not the whole truth

Synopsis: You didn't know why, but Satoru Gojo was acting different than usual and not in a good way. Well, your husband was sure that you were lying to him.

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 3100 words

Series masterlist

Contains: arranged marriage, generational trauma, jujutsu clans and higher ups, much Angst, trowing up, mention of curses

I'm sorry that this chapter is a bit later than usual, I was feeling a bit sick and fitting with the chapter I threw up :') But I hope you enjoy and feel free to comment, I love to read your thoughts!

"Were you expecting a letter?"

Your husband Satoru Gojo doesn't even look at you as he speaks. Instead his face is expressionless, like a mask he was wearing. Almost like your mother.

He was acting so different from yesterday, it was scary. Did you cross a line?

"No, why? Did a letter come?"

His voice isn't heared a couple of seconds, until he spoke again. "Yeah, from your mother."

Your eyes couldn't help but widen as his words sunk in. She knew. She knew where you were. The house wasn't yours anymore, she knew. How? Since when? HOW?

Satoru's head rose and his eyes suddenly seemed so far away. Like an ocean you will never cross. Cold, like the icebergs in the Antarctica. Not like anytime you saw them before.

"Oh really?"

You kept your voice steady as you took a grape from the offered lunch of the hotel.

"Yeah, here." he slided the piece of paper across the small table to you. Your name written in the handwriting you knew so well. "Does she write you regularly?"

Your mind froze as you thought back. Yeah, she did. But not because of the reason he thought she did. Not because she was worried about her precious daughter. No, more like she worried about her hopefully grandson.

You just nodded and wanted to open the letter as his warm hand grabbed yours.

For a moment he seemed approachable. His eyes bigger than before he looked at you with almost desperation in those deep eyes.

"Are you really close with her?"

The piece of paper sank deep into your skin as you looked at him. What should you do? You couldn't let him know, your mother would kill you! But...

It was so hard when he looked at you like that.

Your hands fiddled with the piece of the paper and drew your whole attention. They were twitching. You wanted to rip them out.

"Yes, I am." the lie left your mouth like a rock falling down a mountain. Fast but not safe. "Didn't I tell you that already?"

His eyes and mind closed from you eight in front of your eyes. You could see his emotions being pushed down and his body sitting up straight.

"Well, then." he stood up to go to the bathroom. "Could you tell me later what was written inside?"

You just nodded as he left. What happened since yesterday? What did you do? How did you get in this situation?

+:★:+*━━━ A bit ago ━━━*+:★:+*

The bed was cold. So so cold. Your consciousness slowly grew as you shivered at the unexpected coldness under the covers of the big bed.

He wasn't here.

Did you wake up early than usual? Normally he would wake you by accidentally being a bit louder when he came back from his round around the town. But Satoru didn't seem in sight.

Your body had the usual heaviness it was yesterday freed from. It wasn't easy to leave the bed but you wanted to get up.

You felt terrible.

The tiredness became unreal. Why couldn't you just be well rested after that much sleep? It felt like a boulder pressed your body down and chained you to the bed. Your body seemed so lazy.

Legs heavy, you slowly made your way to the bathroom. The clock surprising you.

10:24?

That couldn't be right. No, Satoru should have showed up by that already! And you surely haven't slept that much! Right?

As you looked at your things you needed to get ready, you sighed. There it was like every morning. The hairpin of your mother, your wedding present.

Why did you even take it with you? Yes, it was pretty but the guilt that came with it was far more influence. And you didn't even use it!

It almost seemed to look at you disappointed.

Your exhaustion was really getting out of hand! Maybe you should talk to Hina's grandmother for advice against sleeping problems...

As you began to brush your teeth, you this feeling of uneasiness began to creep up your back. Slowly, like a someone was watching you. Like something will happen...

The sound of the door opening made you cough up your toothpaste.

"Er, phew! Satoru?" you called over your shoulder while washing your face.

"Yeah?"

"Did you have trouble?" you dried your face trying to get your eyes to open properly. "You're later than usual."

He kept quiet for a couple of seconds. Then he sighed. "Yeah, you could say that."

The silence after that wasn't like the silence yesterday. It was awkward, you didn't know what to say. You couldn't explain it, but he sounded different. He didn't sound like smiling.

"I'm going down to eat lunch." his voice got a bit more quiet and moved away. "I didn't get anything."

"Okay." you didn't know what was happening, but something was wrong. The comfort of yesterday wasn't seen in any corner, didn't matter how much you searched for it.

Oh, god you did something wrong, didn't you?

+:★:+*━━━ Now ━━━*+:★:+*

Your letter weighed heavy in your hand. And as you opened it, the weight only seemed to grow.

Dear daughter,

I hope this letter finds you enjoying yourself. Well, after all that's what you so desperately seem to want. You can count yourself lucky, your slip up is being forgiven. The higher ups seem to be of the opinion that you acted for the greater good and just didn't think. That you wanted to take action in the matter heir.

They expect that you will expect a child when you come back.

The luck really is on your side. They wouldn't be half as kind if they weren't aware of where you were. Your vacation isn't frowned upon, as long you don't forget why you took it.

Enjoy your days, Sincerely, your mother.

On the back was the date of your next meeting engraved. She didn't write you anything else. You felt like throwing up.

Taking action in the matter heir? Expecting a child? You weren't close to anything like that!

What would they do to you, if they find out? No, when they find out? What will your mother say?

The table full of things to eat was suddenly all grey. You didn't feel hungry anymore, even though you didn't eat much.

Tears began to form in your eyes. You couldn't help it. The reality of what you were supposed to do came crushing down on you, making no room for the lightness of yesterday.

You desperately rubbed your eyes, trying to stop the tears but it was no use.

You couldn't show yourself like this to Satoru.

Your room didn't have the thickest walls, he would hear you in the bathroom. So you moved to the bathroom for the guests that weren't staying over the night and tried to calm down.

What were you supposed to tell Satoru?

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Satoru knew that he should have given you both letters. But there was this uneasiness in the room with all these questions.

Why did these old hags even write you?

He couldn't explain it to himself. And he wanted to open the letter so bad to find the answer. But...

He didn't want to open letters that were for you. That felt so wrong. Like he was using your trust and god he didn't want you to be mad at him again.

But did you even trust him?

If you did, why were you lying to him? You seemed to have anything but a good relationship with your mother. But when he asked you, you insisted that you did. Two times.

Your face as you looked at the letter wasn't screaming happiness. No, it was confusion and even something like fear.

Did you think you could fool him?

The mirror was fogged as he left the shower. He felt uneasy. Like he wasn't seeing something he should.

Sighing, he started to get ready. Maybe he was over thinking. Maybe you did have a good relationship with your mother. You did have meetings with her a couple of times.

Which were really long...

The meetings?

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

"You don't look well. Are you okay?"

In fact you looked like you had cried. But you didn't seem to show that to him, meaning you smiled at him like that would be a prove.

"Yeah, don't worry."

He couldn't stand this charade that you played now. But he decided to play along. "What did she write to you?"

"Oh, the usual. I should greet you from my mother. She wished us a good honeymoon and that we would enjoy our time." the laugh that followed was more than forced.

He felt his patience slipping away. "I thought she didn't like me?"

You looked at him like he was speaking another language. "I mean yeah-, but your still my husband which she respects." the fastness with wich you spoke gave you away.

You were nervous. Why were you this nervous in his presence?

"Ah."

"Are you okay?" you looked at him with a frown. "You seem on edge."

Oh and how he was on edge. Who wasn't, when they knew they were being lied to?

"Yeah, just a bit stressed." he couldn't help but look at the letter in your hands. "Have the feeling there is a curse nearby."

"A curse?" your eyes were grewing big. "Here?"

"I will look for it later." he was sure he needed some time alone after this. "We can go to the restaurant some other time, right?"

You nodded, a terrified look in your eyes. "Of course!" you stood up. "I should go to our room, I don't want to hinder your work."

"Wait."

Now or never.

"I wanted to ask you something."

You stopped. Your tense back to him. "What is it?"

"Did the higher-ups bother you with something? Regarding our marriage?" he cleared his throat. "Just curious."

You didn't look at him, just muttered a small 'No' and 'Is there anything else?'

He let you go upstairs. Now he was sure of it. You kept something from him. And this something was in those letters.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Satoru was out for hours.

You were worried about him. He seemed so out of it this morning. And then these questions...

Was he onto something?

You couldn't afford his mistrust. Not when your whole purpose is making an heir!

That sounded so wrong.

You looked at the books on your night table he bought for you. They were all a bit different. Some a different genre. Like he wanted to make sure you had at least on book that you would like.

You hated yourself for lying to this man.

You sighed as the usual tiredness overcame you again. Grabbing a book you read. Just wanting to forget this morning.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

It was late. The moon was already up and as he went up the stairs he knew that you would already be in bed.

He canceled your reservation.

He wasn't sure why, but he didn't want to ho there anymore. Not after he read what these douchbags were writing you.

Not after he knew what you kept from him.

He opened the door slowly and careful trying not to wake you. You were curled up on the bed, you seemed to shiver.

On the table next to you the second letter.

"Satoru, is that you?" your teeth were chattering.

"Yeah, it's just me."

He felt so dumb as he looked at you. So dumb for thinking you could just have a normal honeymoon, when you weren't even in love.

"Need your warmth." you sniffled. "Please?"

He was fighting with himself. He didn't want to invade your personal space, not after reading all of that. Not when you thought of it like it was your duty to-

He shivered just thinking about it.

But at the same time he didn't want you to be cold. And how could he deny his darling wife?

"I'm coming." very carefully he laid himself next to you, trying to avoid touching you, just carefully hugging you. "Is that better?"

You seemed to sleep already.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

It was so cold.

Your body felt like being pushed around, everything seemed to spin. Your hands felt frozen, like they didn't were under the covers.

Your throat was dry and something sticky seemed to make itself home in it. The force that held your eyes closed was so strong.

The spinning didn't seem to end.

Wait, a second... It didn't just feel like your body moved, it did!

With much willpower you forced your eyes to open and slowly turned around. And your blood seemed to freeze with your body.

There was Satoru sleeping but had a frown on his face. And a distance between you. But not because he moved, you were pushed back. By something you couldn't see. By infinity.

...

You forced yourself up, away from the bed. Everything started to make sense. He wasn't comfortable in your presence. After yesterday he searched for distance, even in his subconsciousness.

You were to pushy, god, why were you so pushy?!

Slowly you took steps back, trying to get away from the invisible wall that so clearly pushed you away. Almost stumbling you went into the bathroom.

01:24

Kinda ironic.

As you looked in the mirror you gasped. You looked like a corpse. Your fingers in the light even a bit blue. Panic started to rise and pushed you onte the ground.

Spit began to collect in your mouth and your stomach twisted. Your head was so heavy as you slided over to the toilet.

And then it just fell all out.

Your stomach twisting and turning, the pain slowly leaving but your eyes were burning even more.

It seemed to go for hours as you sat there. Defeated, so so powerless.

You felt disgusting.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

You didn't know how, but somehow you collected all your pieces and cleaned everything before falling onto the couch.

It was harder then the bed, but that didn't bother you anymore. The distance between you was far more important now.

He seemed to sleep so peaceful now.

He had moved since you stood up. God, now you were the one watching him sleep, you should get your act together.

But even though you were so so tired, you couldn't sleep.

Your surrounding seemed to watch you and the uneasy feeling from the morning came doubled back.

The luck really is on your side. They wouldn't be half as kind if they weren't aware of where you were.

They knew where you were. They could just come. Maybe even tomorrow. And even though you knew that would be unreasonable, the fear didn't leave.

You wanted to cry. But it was so cold.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

It was early than usual. Satoru was still sleeping as your eyes opened. Your body was heavy but the feeling of disgust with yourself made you move.

Normally you wouldn't go downstairs, you would hjust read. But you didn't want to be there when he woke up. No that would be unbearable.

So you went into the bathroom again, the crime scene of the night nowhere in sight. The hairpin waiting for you on the counter like it was ready to stab you.

A laugh escaped your lips.

Your mother really couldn't leave you alone, even now she stole herself into your thoughts.

Why were you even here?

Trying to get away from all of these curses in this hotel room, you hurried as you stepped the staircase down. You really needed a light chat with Hina's grandmother.

And some tips against bad sleeping.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Satoru hadn't slept so bad in a long time. He turned and turned but couldn't get any good position. And he was sure that that couldn't be normal.

Normally he had a rhythm in his sleep. Get the minimum that you need and get up. He normally had to work after all.

But now his thoughts just couldn't shut up.

He woke up much later than usual. And he knew something was wrong when his six eyes were tired.

You weren't in the room.

The room was so coldly empty, his thoughts almost were silent. But only for a short time, they began to circle around the thing that was bugging him, even in his dreams.

Your lying.

And he knew he shouldn't, he knew that what he was doing was maybe much much worse than just lying but the letter from your mother was right next to him on the night table.

"Didn't I tell you that already?"

Fuck it. Maybe this was unreasonable, but he had to live with you for the rest of his life. And he hated secrets.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

"Oh, Mrs. Gojo you look like you didn't sleep well, is everything alright?" the sweet elderly woman looked concerned as you sat down in front of her.

"Just trouble with sleeping. Do you have any tips?"

Her concern only grew in her eyes. "Well I drink warm milk before sleeping, I can bring you a cup every evening, if you want?"

You smiled at her. "That would be lovely, thank you."

She just nodded, hesitant smiling back. "It's naturally."

She brought you a hot chocolate, while she handled the organization of the guests. Turning the pages in the guestlist she spoke again.

"Were you happy to receive the letters?"

"Oh yeah, my mother is always a surprise." you began to chuckle a bit, but it died down in your sticky throat as you realized what she has just said.

"Oh I can relate! I write Hina always a couple of letters at the same time!" the woman chuckled a bit. "But I thought the two letters were from different people?"

"Oh they were." you tried to keep your composure even though the panic mixed with lots of anger made it really hard for you.

Really Satoru?

Two letters?

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[loving-barnes]

A Touch Of Hope (Logan Howlett)

Pairing: Logan Howlett x female mutant reader

Summary: After a mission went wrong, Logan brought an injured mutant into the school. And with that, new hope has arisen - for mutants, for the school, even for Logan.

General warning: graphic depictions of violence, smut, explicit language and more.

This story is for 18+ audience. Minors DNI.

Author's note: I love that Logan is tall in the movies. They... fucked up. And I am here for it. The reader is a female. I don't do any description BUT she has long hair (I'm sorry). If you find something, let me know. I am writing this for fun, not rushing and just enjoying the process.

Set in an alternative universe. In other words - I can do what I like.

• Begin Again (Chapter One) After a failed mission, Logan unexpectedly brings home an injured mutant. | Words: 5300+

• 'Hell' (Chapter Two)  Y/N shares how she escaped 'hell’. | Words: 4300+

• Spark (Chapter Three) Charles reveals something more about Y/N's mutation. | Words: 3800+

• Window of Opportunity (Chapter Four) In Salem, Logan and Y/N have the opportunity to save the boy. | Words: 5200+

• Revelation (Chapter Five) Scott decided to be a dick and share something he shouldn’t. | Words: 4300+

• Better (Chapter Six) Things are slowly turning around. Or are they? | Words: 3100+

• Bar (Chapter Seven) It’s a fun night out at a bar. | Words: 3300+

• Bonding Moment (Chapter Eight) The students get to know Y/N a little more. | Words: 3700+

• Babysitting Gone Wrong (Chapter Nine) Charles asked Logan and Y/N to babysit the students while the rest of the staff was away for the weekend. | Words: 6200+

• Need (Chapter Ten) Things move forward between Logan and Y/N. | Words: 4300+

• One Of Us (Chapter Eleven) Y/N got an offer to become a member of the X-men. | Words: 3000+

Staff: Charles Xavier, Hank McCoy (Beast), Piotr Rasputin (Colossus), Remy LeBeau (Gambit), Bobby (Iceman), Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler), Kitty Pryde, Anna Marie (Rogue), Ororo Munroe (Storm), Logan Howlett (Wolverine), Scott Summers (Cyclops), Jean Grey, Peter Maximoff (Quicksilver)

[tpwk-formula1]

Kinktober Day 5 - Corruption - LH44

Lewis Hamilton X Reader

I am more than willing to write a part 2 to this one shot as there was no sex in this one. I felt to keep the realism of the story it didn't feel right for the character to lose her virginity the same night she had her first kiss.

TW - Virgin, smut, oral (male and female receiving), NO ACTUAL SEX

WC - 3100+

Y/N POV

August 2024

Walking through the paddock I can't help but speed my way toward the Mercedes Hospitality knowing as soon as I got in there, there would be no more eyes on me. I mean I know realistically no one gives a fuck who I am but with all the hustle and bustle around me I can't help but feel anxious.

Once I am in the comfort of a quiet room in the hospitality I pull out my laptop and get right to work knowing I didn't have much time before I would need to be in the garage to take pictures for the official Mercedes accounts.

Being one of the main photographers for Mercedes definitely has its perks but being as quiet as I am it has been hard making friends with people.

As I am editing a photo of Kimi and George for Instagram I hear a soft knock on the door.

"Um, come in?" I stutter a little making it sound more like a question than a statement. When the door opens slowly I see Lewis's head peek in to see who was occupying one of the only empty meeting rooms in the whole hospitality.

"Oh hi Y/N," I hear Lewis say softly before he comes into the room and closes the door.

"Hi, Lew. How are you doing today?" I ask softly while still looking at my computer too intimidated to make eye contact with Lewis.

"I'm good, just trying to get away from all of the noise," Lewis tells me making me finally look up and nod my head softly.

"I get that," I tell Lewis softly finally closing my laptop to give him my full attention.

"What are you working on today?" Lewis asks me showing a real interest in my work.

"I'm actually working on more promotional photos for Kimi and George for next season," I tell Lewis making him smile.

"I've been working for Mercedes for the past 3 years and I'm gonna be completely honest it feels strange editing photos for the team without you in them," I tell Lewis for whatever reason. This makes him chuckle a little.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm happy you're doing what is best for your career," I double down in slight embarrassment hoping I didn't offend Lewis.

"I know what you mean. I don't think anyone even myself expected it," Lewis tells me in a reassuring voice to make sure I knew I didn't offend him in any way.

"I have a hard time grasping that you have worked for Mercedes for 3 years know and I feel like I barely know anything about you," Lewis tells me honestly making me smile a little.

"I don't think anyone really knows anything about me if I'm being completely honest," I tell him.

"Well tell me about yourself then," Lewis says with a smile on his face.

"Well, what do you want to know?" I ask back in a softer tone than I intended.

"Whatever you want," Lewis tells me leaving the ball in my court. I can feel my anxiety start to grow slightly from the pressure of having to tell him about myself.

"Well, I'm from Brisbane and grew up with 2 older brothers and a little sister. I always loved taking pictures when I was really little, so it makes sense that I went on to become a photographer. I moved out on my own only a year ago when my parents retired and decided to sell our house and travel the world forcing me to finally leave the nest. I always grew up really quiet which made it really hard to get through school but eventually I made a core group of friends. I'm so sorry I'm rambling," I finally realize I'm word-vomiting to Lewis.

"No I enjoy listening to you talk. Keep going if you'd like," Lewis tells me clearly interested in what I have to say.

"Well then, my dad was always into Formula 1 and even put my little brothers into karting but they both were shit and it was too expensive to get them the proper training and equipment to help them be good. I ended up being the only one into racing like him so we would go to the Australian Grand Prix together every year. That was when I knew I was gonna be a Formula 1 photographer someday. You were actually the first driver I ever met. I was like 13 and this awkward quiet kid and my dad had surprised me with paddock passes. You signed the hat I was wearing and just all around really sweet. You ended up winning that year and I was so excited," I tell him some more looking up to realize Lewis is smiling and clearly listening to every word I was saying.

"Oh wow, I knew you were young I didn't realize how young you were. I'm assuming that was 2015?" Lewis's comments make me nod and laugh a little.

"Ya I turned 22 back a few months ago," I comment softly which has him nodding his head.

"Tell me more, I haven't heard you talk this much and if I'm being honest I love your voice," Lewis tells me making my cheeks grow red in a blush. I don't know the last time someone had complimented me.

"Well, when I went to Uni everyone tried to convince me to pick a more reliable career, but I knew what I wanted. As soon as I graduated I started applying to every position in photography F1 could offer and basically, now I'm here. Uh, I've never had my first kiss, matter a fact I've never even had a boy frie-," I finally cut myself off realizing I was starting to anxiously ramble about the most embarrassing aspect of my life.

When I look up at Lewis in sheer embarrassment I notice a look in his eyes that I had never seen before. It wasn't a bad thing but it made my body heat up in a way I had never felt before.

PRESENT TIME

"Y/n can I kiss you," Lewis asks softly. We are standing in my small apartment after another one of the many dates we have been going since the day in the meeting room. After I embarrassingly spilled my guts about never being in a relationship Lewis matched my energy by admitting he had been in a relationship since the one he got out of in 2015.

A few weeks after that conversation and many more after he finally asked me out on a date. I was worried given our drastic age difference however over time I realized it wasn't a problem if we didn't make it one.

"Yes," I finally whisper out before feeling Lewis's lips graze mine softly. When he finally places his lips on mine and starts to kiss me I instantly start kissing back, not entirely confident in my ability but I knew that whatever I was doing felt good. I could feel the start of a heat rising in me, one I only felt when I was with Lewis but this time it was stronger that I had ever felt before.

This being my first kiss I lose my breath fairly quickly so I'm pulling back gasping in softly. When I make eye contact with Lewis I notice the look he gave me back in the office.

"Was I okay?" I ask nervously not entirely confident in my previous actions.

"Baby, it was perfect. But just to be sure should we try again?" Lewis asks softly making me laugh a little at how cheesy he was being. Instead of using my words I pull Lewis closer by his neck and crashing my lips against his.

This time when I part my lips slightly I feel Lewis slip his tongue into my mouth making me instantly gasp at the feeling before following suit and allowing my tongue to tangle with his. In the midst of out make out session I feel Lewis pick me up and placing my thighs on either side of his waist and moving us towards my room.

When we get into my room he softly lays me on my mattress.

"Is this all you want tonight?" Lewis asks me before he moves any further.

"No, Lew I need something," I tell him softly.

"Pretty girl, what do you need?" Lewis asks me back while looking into my eyes.

"I don't know how to explain it. I've never felt like this before," I tell him honestly. While I was completely innocent and had never even masturbated I can only assume this is what it feels like to be turned on but I'm far too embarrassed to admit it.

"I think you do know what you need," Lewis tells me urging me to be honest with him. I close my eyes refusing to look at him before I say, "I need you to touch me."

"Are you sure?" Lewis asks softly which has me opening my eyes and making eye contact with him.

"If you're sure," I tell him not wanting him to feel the need to do something just becaus I wanted something.

"No, this is about you. Are you ready?" Lewis says repeating himself but using a more stern voice and vocab.

"Yes," I tell him firmly when I get a sudden rush of confidence. I instantly feel Lewis's hands graze my sides slowly pulling my top up exposing the lacey white bra I had worn today. I lift my body slightly to allow Lewis to pull my shirt completely off. Once it is completely off Lewis immediately brings his hands down to my tits to grip them through my bra.

"Fuck Lew," I moan out the second I feel Lewis's hands.

Lewis starts kissing down my neck making his way to my covered tits but they didn't stay covered for long because Lewis was helping me sit up slightly to unclip and pull off my bra. Once I'm free from my bra Lewis brings his lips back down to mine where he slowly lays me back down where he starts his trail of kisses again.

When he reaches my tits he almost instantly takes one of my nipples into his mouth while playing with the other.

"Lewis," I whine out dragging his name slightly from the pleasure. I feel Lewis slightly smile against me before moving to the other tit to suck my other nipple into his warm mouth.

While he is still pleasuring my tits I feel him move his hands down to the jeans I was wearing where I could feel Lewis starting to unbutton them before slowly pulling them down with my already soaked panties. Once my jeans are fully off Lewis slowly trails his kisses from my tits down my stomach.

"Lewis, hurry up," I tell him while getting impatient with him.

"patience, pretty girl," Lewis tells me still not going where I want him the most.

I start to feel Lewis, ghost kisses all over my thighs making me gasps out in shock.

"Please," I whine out to Lewis growing more impatient by the second.

Lewis finally brought his mouth to my pussy taking a long strip from my virgin hole to my aching clit.

"Fuck, Lew," I gasp out the second his tongue grazes my clit.

While Lewis was keeping a steady pace he was eating me out like it was the last meal he was ever going to eat.

"I think- fuck Lewis, something's happening," I stutter out when I feel an overwhelming pleasure I had never once felt before. My words only spurred Lewis's movements to pick up pace bringing me closer to the edge.

"Oh, fuck, fuck," I moan out the second my body was thrown over the edge for the first time ever. Lewis continued to eat me out to help me ride out my orgasm that felt like it was going to last forever.

When I finally come down from the intensity of my orgasm, my legs still shaking from the intense pleasure Lewis lays down next to me pulling me into in chest.

"Thank you," I whisper out to Lewis not really sure how to have pillow talk. Lewis just chuckles a little before placing a kiss on my forehead.

When I shift around a little I feel something poking my side. When I reached down to see what it was it had Lewis gasping at the touch. When it finally registered in my brain what I was touching I make eye contact with Lewis while still rubbing him threw his jeans.

"Y/N if you keep doing that I'll cum in my pants," Lewis gasps out through a light laugh.

"Then take your pants off," I finally gather enough courage to take the lead knowing if I did something wrong Lewis wouldn't judge me.

"This was about you tonight," Lewis tells me while his breathing began to grow labored signifying he was growing closer to cumming. When I realize he wasn't going to help me help him out I sit up all the way before climbing on top of Lewis and sitting on his legs so I can still unbotton his pants and pull his hard cock out of the jeans that had grown to be comfortably tight. at some point in the night Lewis had lost his shirt, making it easy to place soft kisses all over his chest.

Once I finally get Lewis's hard cock out of his jeans I look up to Lewis and ask, "I wanna make you feel good, please."

"Fuck, whatever your comfortable with, pretty girl," Lewis finally says giving me full permission to explore his cock and body.

I take my time exploring Lewis's body with my mouth. Spotting tattoos I had never seen before, which I softly traced with my finger before making my way down to his cock which was starting to leak precum with how hard he was.

I slowly start jerking his cock off while holding eye contact with Lewis. I can see how Lewis's breathing was starting to pick up again before his eyes rolled back signifying he was experiencing pure pleasure. When I realize his eyes were going to stay closed I decided to shock the both of us by leaning down and pulling the tip of his cock into my mouth.

The second my tongue started teasing his tip Lewis's eyes flew open realizing it was no longer my hands that were touching him.

"Y/N what are you doing," Lewis gasps out when I start slowly taking him further in my mouth trying to test the waters. Instead of answering him, I start bobbing my head trying to bring him more pleasure.

"Fuck, so good baby," Lewis moans out which only encourages me to go faster, which resulted in me going a bit too fast and hitting my gag reflex making me gag quite hard around Lewis's cock which instantly had Lewis gathering my hair in his hands and pulling me off.

"You've got to take it a little slower, pretty girl. This isn't some kind of race," Lewis tells me while I'm still gasping lightly for some air while allowing a couple tears to fall.

"I wanna make you feel good, besides, I kinda liked it," I admit making my cheeks heat up. I can't believe I just admitted to enjoying it when choked myself on Lewis's cock.

"You liked it huh?" Lewis teased me slightly making my cheeks grow more red.

Instead of answering him I went back to work with my mouth this time being a little less cautious with my movements which resulted in me occasionally gagging around his cock.

"Who knew my pretty girl was such a dirty slut," Lewis moaned out making me moan out around his cock from the degrading word.

"You like being called a slut don't you?" Lewis questioned which had me nodding my head the best I could with my mouth still full of his cock.

It doesn't take long before Lewis is grasping my hair to try and pull me off his cock.

"Baby, if you keep doing that I'm gonna cum in your mouth," Lewis gasped out while still trying to pull me off but instead of pulling back I pushed my head down as far as I could making me gag and choke a bit around his cock. This sent Lewis over the edge making him cum straight down my throat. He's still cumming when I pull back slightly to bob my head a little to help him ride his orgasm out the same way he had done to me.

When Lewis was done cumming I pulled off his cock with some of his cum still in my mouth.

"You can spit it baby," Lewis tells me softly but instead of listening I swallowed down every last drop and even licked the little bead of cum that was still left on the tip of his dick.

"What the fuck," Lewis gasps at how the girl who never even kissed a boy an hour ago was now licking his cock clean.

"Was I okay Lew?" I finally ask once we are cuddled up comfortably.

"Are you sure that was your first time?" Lewis joked clearly having enjoyed himself.

"Ya, I liked it though. I wanna do it again and again. I liked when yo called me the dirty name too," I tell him too embarrassed to say it myself.

"I don't remember what I said," Lewis says clearly wanting the dirty words to slip past my lips.

"I- uh, well you called me a slut," I whisper out which makes me realize how insane I was for enjoying such a term.

"Ya? Do you wanna be my little slut pretty girl?" Lewis asked softly making my thighs clench together. I just nod my head too embarrassed to say it again.

"No, I want words. Who are you?" Lewis said a bit sterner than he had ever talked to me before.

"I'm your dirty slut, Lew," I tell him while making direct eye contact with him. While I was embarrassed to say it out loud I couldn't help but bask in the pleasure it was to say that. I enjoyed being a little slut for Lewis and while I was still a virgin I couldn't help but be excited to explore everything more with Lewis.

"Get some rest pretty girl with a mouth and pussy as good as yours I will be going in for seconds before the clock strikes midnight," Lewis tells me making me cuddle further into his side and falling into a light sleep. Lewis kept his promise, by morning time he had managed to make me cum a dozen more times with just his mouth and fingers.

[crazyoffher]

ALL I NEED.

jenna ortega x fem!reader

summary: a crew-mate’s lingering eyes on your secret girlfriend sends you into a jealous fit.

warnings: smut (18+) — oral + fingering (j receiving), short-lived dom!jenna + sub!r turned into dom!r + sub!jenna, jealousy, begging.

word amount: 3100+

a/n: idk how to feel about this

“Do you see the way he’s looking at her?” As you gaped at the sight of Jenna droning on about something to a crew member almost twice her age, you could only watch from a distance because Jenna was too engrossed in her conversation to notice that his eyes were lurching over her body.

“He looks like he’s about to take her right there, right now.” You slapped Mason’s chest, pushing him away slightly at the incline of his joke. He and Jasmin were the only two on the Scream cast who knew about your lingering “crush” on Jenna, and the fact that Jenna and Mason had a kiss scene coming up didn’t exactly help your nerves.

“If it helps, I’ll kiss her a second less than I’m supposed to.” You pushed him again, farther this time, and he only chuckled at you before gazing his eyes back at Jenna and the crew member, his name Brandon. “You can intervene on that.”

“Yeah, and how will I do that?”

He thought about it for a second, his eyes lighting up once he figured out an excuse for you to give, and you could only picture a lightbulb above his head as well. “Tell her that one of the producers needs her for some line changes!”

“And what do I do when I tell her that one of the producers isn’t actually looking for her?” That’s where you got him stumped, mouth gaping open before closing while in thought. His phone buzzed, and he eyed the message he received before shoving the phone down his pocket and turning to you. “I have to go to makeup for the next scene, but just get her away from him. He’s been staring for too long.”

He patted your back before heading out of the lounge room you were all in. You groaned, your feet trudging toward the two, and you could feel Brandon’s gaze of annoyance as he found you approaching him and Jenna.

“Hey, Jen.” You pronounced the nickname you had for her that you proclaimed nobody else could use, and Jenna would always giggle at the maintenance you had for the nickname.

“(Y/N), we’re actually in a pretty good conversation right now, so if you could just-”

“Well, I’ve come here to interrupt that conversation because one of the producers needs Jenna for line changes. My lady,” You held out your hand to her, bowing slightly, and she laughed at you, taking your hand before saying her goodbyes to Brandon. You tried your absolute hardest not to smirk at his vexed expression.

“Now, can I be honest with you?” You questioned Jenna. She turned to you with furrowed eyebrows and narrowed eyes, visibly confused. “Honest about?”

“Well, the producers don’t actually need you. I just needed to get you away from him.” You only looked forward, feeling that eye contact with Jenna would only make you feel uneasy, but all you got out of her was a giggle.

“I’ve told you countless times, baby, you don’t need to be jealous of anybody. Don’t think I’m oblivious to the way he looks at me.” She halted you, encircling your waist with her arms while resting her chin on your chest and peering up at you.

“Then why do you allow him to look at you like that?” You unraveled her arms from your waist with a hint of spite in your eyes. Jenna didn’t remove her chin from your chest, though, and instead raveled her arms around your shoulders, shooting back, “Why do you allow everyone to think that you only have a crush on me instead of the real truth?”

“For your own sake. You said it yourself; you aren’t comfortable yet with people knowing about us. So much, considering you like to be risky.” You looked up and down the hall you were in, empty but accessible to anybody who could catch you and Jenna in the position that you were in, faces only inches away from kissing.

“I said I didn’t want the public to know; I never said anything about our friends.”

You scoffed and tried to push her away, but her grip on you only tightened. “Please, Mason can’t keep a secret if his life depended on it, and if Brandon found out, he would probably out us because of his own jealousy, even if anybody were to actually believe him.”

Basking in your clear jealousy, Jenna’s fingers tapped against the back of your neck. It sent shivers down your spine; goosebumps rose, and all you could do was gaze down at her as you anticipated her reply. “You’re jealous, and I love it when you’re jealous, though for all the wrong reasons.”

You could only allow her to control you, one hand slithering from your neck to grab your hand, guiding it from her chest down to her hips, stopping just below an area you’ve grown to know as sensitive to your touch.

You groaned. “You asshole,” and with that, you pulled her back by her shoulders into a room that stood behind where the two of you had formerly been, reaching behind Jenna to turn the knob of the door and pushing her into the room. With your foot, you shut the door closed with a bang, your thumb and index fingers grazing the lock to turn it over.

The small room, littered with only a couch, television, and desk, was to be used for actors to go over their lines in solitude if they didn’t find their trailers compatible enough due to outside commotion. You’d be lying if you said you and Jenna hadn’t used the couch for more adult-like themes (and maybe the desk), and you remembered holding back snickers when one of the producers texted the cast group chat, asking whoever was using the room for “inappropriate reasons”, that they would stop.

Immediately, you rushed forward, Jenna’s body colliding with yours with the same goal in mind. Your lips met hers, hands hooking around her waist as you drove your hips into hers with no patience in your strut. She gasped at the feeling of your clothed core raking against hers, your tongue traveling all around her mouth, lips pulling away with a pop but not before you clenched your teeth into her bottom lip, drawing blood.

Jenna sighed in contentment as your lips met her neck, turning the both of you around so that you could sit on the couch, pulling Jenna by her back to sit on your lap with your lips never leaving their place. “I think I need to get you jealous more often.”

“You do that, and I’ll start edging you.” Your lips traveled around her neck, littering her with small hickeys that the makeup crew were going to have a field day covering up. Your lips met her pulse point, drawing a breathy moan out of Jenna. When you started sucking on that area, her hands moved to your chest, grabbing your button-up shirt and pulling it out of your pants, ripping it open, and causing a button or two to fly off the garment. She groaned at the sight of you left in just a white tank top, your breasts pushing up in her direction.

In the scene you had filmed not too long ago, the set took place at a party, your character dressed as an 1800’s businessman for whatever reason, and Jenna’s character was a pirate, leaving her in fishnet stocking and jean shorts that rode up whenever she sat down.

You removed your lips from her neck, replacing her hands with yours, and pushed yourself up to remove the shirt from your body. You caught the eye of a button when you were going to throw the collared shirt on the floor. “You ripped off a button!”

“So?” Jenna’s lips met yours again; her tongue shoved into your mouth while her hands raked from your stomach to your breasts, palming at them through the tank top’s fabrication, blocking her access to the two things she loved the most.

You pulled away from her, tugging at Jenna’s shirt and yanking it over her head, her pirate’s bandana coming off in the process. “You want our relationship to be secret, but you don’t even know the definition of it. Hickeys on your neck, popped buttons on my shirt, and you’re not expecting the crew to get a whiff of what’s going on?”

“Then let them,” her hips bucked at the feeling of your cold hands slithering under her bra, wasting no time in feeling all around her as your fingers clipped onto her nipples, tugging at them and releasing a groan out of Jenna, “let them know that you’re all mine.”

“You know just as well as I do that you don’t mean that.” You removed your hands from their position, placing them on her ass and pulling her up with you before dropping her back on the couch.

You kneeled in her presence, hands gripping her knees as you widened the space in between her legs, her shorts riding up, exposing her tan thighs covered by the stockings. You removed her shorts, unbuttoning them at a fast pace before sliding them off, tugging off her shoes as well in the process. 

You ran your hands through her smooth skin, taking in the sight of Jenna’s perfectly-shaped thighs covered by the stockings, and you’d be lying if you said your mouth didn’t water at the sight. Driving in the sight once more, you moved your hand up to her hip, grabbing the hem of the stockings and taking them off of her, leaving her bottom half in only her underwear. You smirked at the wet patch that sat in the middle of the cloth, your fingers tapping at her thighs.

“Baby, it’s only you thinking that it’s because I’m—oh, shit.” You hushed Jenna by pushing your index finger against her clit, circling the sensitive nub painfully slowly, the friction from her underwear only building up her urge to take you right there and then. “You were saying?

Your head dipped down between Jenna’s legs, moving away from where she needed you the most to kiss and nip at her inner thighs. Your hands moved from their position on her knees, replacing themselves around her thighs and rubbing up and down as you licked at the reddening bite marks you had imbedded into her skin.

“Since you want to be such a bitch,” you moved Jenna’s underwear only slightly, tongue licking at the outline of her cunt, causing her to buck her hips up, “and try to make me jealous with fucking Brandon,” you slid two fingers under the wettening cloth, fingers trailing over her folds, and Jenna gripped the couch with impatience, “then fucking beg for it.”

Her mind completely disregarded your hand in her panties, and her head flew down to meet your gaze. “What?” Despite being possessive and rough, per Jenna’s own needs, in almost all the times you and Jenna had engaged sexually, you never took it to the next level. Until now.

“I know you’re not deaf, Jen. Beg for it.” You repeated, head maneuvering so your nose was brushing against her clothed clit while you spoke in cold breaths, watching Jenna’s thighs clench and unclench at the breeze. You could feel Jenna’s hand slither into your hair, digging her nails into the follicles to try and pull you closer to her, but your head didn’t budge.

You grabbed her hand, pinning it down along with her other hand that was approaching your scalp as well, keeping them tightly still at her sides. You stuck out your tongue, flexing it into a more narrow shape before licking the fabrication that kept Jenna sealed. You flicked one, two, then three kitten-like licks at her nub, urgently removing your hands from her wrists and pinning down her hips that bucked their way up into your face, trying to get a pleasurable sensation but to no use. “I’m not giving you shit until I hear you whine how bad you want this.”

Jenna moved to speak, breathing unevenly, but her words never vocalized themselves because you moved her panties more to the side with your right hand, running your index finger down her throbbing cunt, then back up, all while you watched her facial expressions change at each movement. “Please, (Y/N).”

“Please what?” Your finger stroked itself down her cunt again, this time stopping where you could feel her hole pulse under your touch. She whined, her hips desperately trying to push down into your finger, but your left hand still held a firm grip on her bony frame, your hand pushing down the right side of her hip and your elbow pushing down the left side. “I’m not going to do anything that can remotely get you off until you tell me what you want.”

“Just fuck me!” She groaned out, her face heating up hotter than ever as she caught sight of you staring back at her with such an innocent glint in your eyes. Such innocent eyes could fool anybody unless they saw what you were doing to Jenna, using your approach to somehow make the situation much direr. 

“Fuck me as hard as you can. Please, god, I just want to feel you.” Her whines were loud, letting you know that the producers awareness of such dirty nonsense going on in the room told you that you weren’t at fault, but instead Jenna’s unawareness of how loud she was.

You purred into her center. “There you go, sweetheart.” Your middle finger pushed against your index finger, inserting the two digits into her core. Jenna let out a low groan, basking in the relief of what you had just made her wait for, even if it was her own fault. She’d never blame herself for a halt on her pleasure, even if it was her own fault, and she’d make more than sure to get you back for your teasing later.

You pumped your fingers, letting Jenna get used to the feeling while gradually moving faster to get her going. As you sped up, Jenna’s face morphed into expressions that you could cum from just looking at, letting your mind get to you as you found yourself subconsciously thrusting your hips into the space between Jenna’s legs on the couch.

You stopped your hip movement, eyeing Jenna to see her head sprawled back, mouth agape, and letting out a loud moan when your lips met her clit. Sucking feverishly, you bit down on the sensitive nub to send her a warning, seeing as she managed to roll her hips around your mouth despite your tough grip on her. “Don’t,” was all you muttered before sucking on her clit again, Jenna whining at the vibrations your word sent throughout her cunt.

Jenna could feel the coil in her stomach starting to tighten, the pleasure becoming more unbearable while you attacked her cunt, mouth and tongue swirling and sucking around her clit and two fingers pumping in and out of her. You bit down on her clit again, causing a moan to erupt from her. Jenna’s hands rode up her stomach and up to her chest to palm at her own breasts, eyes shutting at the pleasure build-up, finding herself closer to releasing.

You noticed this; your attack on her clit the same, but you switched up your finger movement, shoving them into her knuckle-deep and curling them, pumping them in and out a couple times before locating her g-spot. You pushed into it, making her yell out your name along with a squeaking whimper. “Fuck! Go faster!”

You did just that, keeping your fingers curled as you grazed her g-spot continuously, her knuckles white, still gripping onto her breasts that were bound to be littered with small bruises soon. “Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum.”

You only hummed, sucking Jenna’s nub harder and watching her body start to twitch, hands leaving their death grip on her breasts to bury in your hair, pulling you into her deeper. “Ugh, don’t stop! I’m gonna-” and with a low moan of your name, the coil in her stomach snapped, her body jolting from her orgasm. You slowed your fingers, uncurling them, and after she had calmed down, pulled them out and gazed at your fingers covered in her slick.

Calmed down from your former jealous rage, you stood up, kneeling over Jenna’s panting frame on the couch to engulf her in a kiss that she immediately reciprocated, her hands flying up to cup your cheeks. Without a word, you took your index finger and put it up to Jenna’s lips, mouth parting without a second thought and you stuck your finger in, mentally groaning at the sensation of her tongue swirling all around your fingers in desperation to taste her own cum.

Popping your finger out of Jenna’s mouth, your eyes never faltered from hers as you stuck your middle finger into your mouth, fighting to roll your eyes back at the taste of her. 

Once more, you two met in a kiss, her arms wrapping around your shoulders to pull you deeper, a goal to pleasure you just as much lingering in her mind.

You felt a buzz at your knee, startling you, and you pulled away from Jenna. “What the-” You moved your knee to the side, Jenna’s phone revealing itself to be the culprit of the odd vibrations. She picked it up, her eyes widening slightly at the messages that littered her phone from the cast group chat, letting her know that shooting was supposed to continue about five minutes earlier, but they couldn’t shoot without Jenna herself.

“Oh shit.” She sighed, and you skimmed the messages from the angle you found yourself in, getting the memo that she needed to leave. You stood up straight, gathering Jenna’s clothes off the floor as she stood up and stretched, trying her hardest to fix her hair before retying her pirate’s bandana.

Once she got dressed, she pulled you in for one last kiss, murmuring in your ear, “I’ll deal with you later,” before heading for the door.

“Jenna?” She halted, turning to face you at the call of her name, the doorknob in her hand. “Yeah?”

“You might want to stop by the makeup crew.” You pointed to her neck, reminding her that she was covered with hickeys, some larger than the others.

Feeling her neck, she winced at the multiple bruisings that littered her, giving you a glare before heading out. “Asshole.”

☟ ☟ ☟

taglist (so far): @grandpatrolnut @jennas-10 @annalestern @yara124 @daryldixonsw1fe

[inkie-does-whump]

Some of us float (And some of us sink to the bottom)

A Tango and Docm oneshot

Word count: 3100

Trigger warnings: drugs, needles/injections, drawing blood, body horror, dissection, human experimentation

Author's note: Oh, it's a long one guys! And worth it! But, uh, if you hate needles or body horror this might not be the oneshot for you.

Aka: Tango has an experiment with Doc scheduled, and it goes exactly as Doc planned it

Tango knows something is wrong when he doesn’t receive his medication.

Again.

The first time he assumed it was a mistake. A fluke. He quietly enjoyed his day of energy, sticking to his room in hopes that the Watchers wouldn’t notice he was awake. And then he second day it got suspicious, but Tango still didn’t mention it. He ventured to the lobby, had a lovely, full and awake conversation with Impulse, and then enjoyed the rest of the day in the practice room. It was nice.

But this was day three.

And something between suspicion and dread was boiling in his stomach.

He knew exactly why when he checked his schedule for that day. No rental, but he did have an experiment. Just one. Just one experiment scheduled from one in the afternoon, all the way into the evening.

Just one experiment.

With Doc.

Oh.

Tango hangs his schedule on the back of his door again, and sits down on his bed. He resists the urge to curl his knees up to his chin.

Doc had talked the Watchers into another experiment? And of all the subjects here, Doc wanted the experiment with Tango?

Nausea churns in his stomach.

It was rare to run into Doc around the lab. In the early days, Doc had taken over almost half of the practice room, turning it into his own little laboratory where he continued to conduct the science he’d apparently been working on before his capture. But his work was disruptive, and prevented the other subjects from using the practice room, so the Watchers gave Doc an extra unused room to move his equipment into. Nowadays he spends all his days locked in his little lab.

Doc is always so passive with the Watchers. They never bother him, except to monitor his work and sometimes praise his progress. He’s like their favorite pet, and he know it, preening under their gaze.

And because of this, he holds a terrifying power over everyone else.

Tango nervously stands up, if only to release his newly pent-up energy. He opens his door and paces feverishly down the hallway. He pauses in briefly in the lobby to check the single clock that hangs over the door to the practice room.

Bdubs is sitting directly in front of the door, watching the clock like it might betray the time if he looks away from it, counting, murmuring each number under his breath. Tango is convinced Bdubs thinks the time will stop if he doesn’t keep track of it himself.

Lunch, Tango thinks. Lunch before the experiment because Tango isn’t sure when he’ll be able to have dinner, and he doesn’t want to be hungry.

In the end his lunch goes unfinished, because the Watchers come looking to take him away. Scar and Cub watch them warily from the other end of the table, but the Watchers are there for Tango and no one else.

Tango let’s out a sigh, and stands up obediently. They walk him out of the room with little white remotes clutched in their hands, able to trigger a remote traq. Tango knows it’s because he’s no longer drugged. They’re taking extra precautions.

Tango is taken to an operating room, and that is worse than meeting in Doc’s lab.

The Goat sits up on the operating table casually, waiting for him when Tango pushes open the door.

“Tango Tek.” He greets, slipping down from the table to approach him.

Doc is a monstrous person. Tango doesn’t know if his body modifications are from himself or the Watchers, both possibilities unnerve him. He doesn’t even know what Doc was originally. He’s covered in green fur, and massive, although part of the size difference might come from the cyborg parts, the wires that crawl and twist along and under his skin.

His height is aided by the glossy black hooves he stands on. Twisted horns break the skin at both sides of his head, curling around his skull and framing his grin. His mouth is full of teeth, violent canines that Tango can’t mentally justify with any of the other creatures Doc seemed to be crossed with.

Disturbing pink insect wings flare behind him, acting as the most menacing backdrop Tango can fathom.

Doc takes his hand and shakes it, “we’re going to have a lovely time this afternoon.” He promises. Then he turns to the Watchers, “Thank you for bringing him, you may go.”

And just like that the Watchers leave.

Tango is alone with Doc.

“Have a seat.” Doc drawls, still smiling. He gestures to the operating table. “Have they skipped all your meds like I requested?”

Chills rush across Tango’s skin. His throat is dry, and he swallows.

“Yeah. No meds.” He confirms, not able to work up the confidence to move, let alone climb up on the operating table.

Doc nods pleasantly and notes something down on a clipboard, “Wonderful, wonderful.” He hums. Glancing up at Tango and seeing he still hadn’t moved, Doc nods at the table again, “Sit, please.” He repeats.

Tango shuffles over to the table, and with his heart pounding, pushes himself onto his deathbed. The table is covered in a thick foam, with old pinholes littered across the surface. His stomach churns anxiously. He’s going to throw up.

“It’s good to have you, Tango, I’ve been wanting to take a good look at you for a while now.” Doc says, leaning against the head of the table, “it’s good to know that the Watchers are finally starting to trust me with their…” he prods Tango with his pen, “…more valuable assets.”

Tango can’t help but curl away from the touch. He echoes, “valuable assets?”

Docs nods, turning away to fetch something from the nearby countertop, “not counting the tribes in the nether, blazeborn only make up five to eight percent of the general population. It would be difficult for them to find a replacement for you if I were… irresponsible.”

Tango laughs nervously, “but you’re responsible. Right?”

Doc doesn’t turn around to look back at him, “you’ll survive.”

There is a beat of silence, in which Tango contemplates how far he’d be able to make it if he tried to sprint out the door. Would the Watchers just drag him back here?

“your rarity, of course, is exactly why I wanted to examine you.” Doc continues, wings buzzing softly behind him. “My old laboratory didn’t have anywhere near the resources that this one does. I haven’t been able to dissect a blazeborn yet.”

Tango doesn’t like the word “dissect” or the way that Doc has now turned to look at him with a hunger in his eyes. His mechanical parts click as he paces back to the operating table, carrying a few tools. Tango can see the antifreeze that pumps methodically inside the tubes along his metal arm. Tango doesn't like that either.

In fact, Tango dislikes most things about this situation.

Doc sets his supplies on the cart next to the table Tango is on, “Hold still. This shouldn’t hurt.”

Tango stiffens as Doc grabs a jar and a pair of tongs. Doc uses the tongs to carefully grip each blazerod crowning Tango’s head, and put them into the jar. They resist, clearly wanting to stay in orbit around his head, but Doc pulls them out with a tug.

“And you have no allergies? No medical deformities?” Doc asks, screwing the lid right on the jar and putting it on the bottom shelf of the cart.

Tango hesitates, “Not that I know of.” He says at last.

Doc chuckles, “you don’t have to be nervous. I ask so we don’t have complications. I want you alive.”

Alive, Doc says. But not unharmed.

Doc takes a syringe from the cart, with a long tube attached that curls and dips down to a collection container on the bottom of the cart. “Arm?” he prompts.

The unease that has been turning in Tango spikes. He instinctively shrinks away from the needle. Doc looks as though he’s both annoyed and amused.

“Just drawing blood.” He says, “I need a sample.”

So Tango holds out a shaky arm and allows Doc to put the needle to the inside of his arm. There is a click and hiss, and Tango has to will himself to not flinch when he feels the metal bite into his skin. Doc hums as he disconnects the needle from the tube, and puts a sticker over the injection site to hold the tube in place.

“Don’t remove that.” Doc instructs. “Are you prone to fainting?” Tango shakes his head, while Doc bends to turn on the blood pump, “Okay. If you feel yourself getting lightheaded, lay down on the table.”

The suction of the blood drawing can be felt immediately. Tango watches the red as it flows down the wire in his arm and to the cart. He feels dizzy within a few seconds, but he’s not eager to lay out on the operation table, so instead he takes several deep breaths and tries to distract himself.

“What tests are you running?” He asks.

Doc is reading over some charts he has on the counter, “Various things. I’ll run the standard blood tests later, since I can do those without you present. We’re going to record your height to weight ratio too, and I’d like a sample of your hair.”

Tango feels like he might pass out soon, but he manages, “my hair?”

Doc holds up a piece of paper, and looks back and forth between it and Tango, “It has curious physics.” He says, putting down the paper, “Do the Watchers cut it often?”

Tango would explain to him that blazeborn hair doesn’t need to be cut, and that the length is based on his environment which is why the blazeborn tribes in the nether had such long hair. But he was sleepy, and slumping, and sweetly falling into soft nothing.

Doc catches him before he hits his head on the table. It’s difficult to think straight, but he can feel Doc laying him out on the table. He can see his shadow, his twisted horns, in the corner of his vision.

“Careful.” Doc chides. Tango can hear the gentle whir and clicking of the fans inside Doc’s mechanical arm. It sounds like the hiss and crackle of the fire at home.

Despite Tango fainting, Doc doesn’t turn off the pump. He stands over Tango, passively monitoring as the collection vat fills.

“I feel sick.” Tango mumbles.

“I know.” Is all Doc answers with.

When the vat is full, Doc turns the pump off. Tango blinks sleepily at him, watching as the container is removed from the cart and taken to the counter. Doc labels it “Blazeborn – Tango” and sets it next to several other glass vats labeled with other races and names.

“One thirty? Is that normal?” Doc asks, and Tango struggles to comprehend the question. Doc writes something down on his clipboard and then eyes Tango, “Ready to stand?”

Tango groans, and pushes himself upright. Doc helps him to his feet.

“Stand to the wall by the door. Against the measurements.”

Tango walks to the wall, forcing himself to move through his slowly easing vertigo. He puts his back to the measurements on the wall, and Doc makes more notes on his clipboard. He pushes Tango’s hair down with the tongs from before so he can see the correct measurement.

“Five six.” Doc mumbles, and Tango is guided back to the table to lay down. “Are you experiencing any dietary issues? You don’t weigh enough for your height.”

Tango stares at the bright lights above him as the world slowly comes back to him, “That, uh, that’s normal.” He makes out, “I’m… blaze- uh, normally light.”

There is a pause. Tango can hear Doc shuffling and writing, and then he comes back over to him. His hooves click as they strike the tiles. The cloud over Tango’s brain lifts enough for him to notice Doc is gently wrapping restraints around his wrists and ankles.

“mmh, don’t.” Tango muffles, pulling away.

Doc just holds firm to his wrist and says, “You’ll hurt yourself if you thrash like this.” And waits until Tango’s limited energy fails him again. And then Tango is tied down arms over his head. Doc goes to the head of the table. “look up at me?” he prompts, and when Tango instinctively glances at his voice, Doc wraps another strap of cloth around his forehead to keep his head still. His skull is cradled by the foam of the table.

“The Watchers would kill me if I let you get a concussion.” Doc grins down at him, but the joke isn’t warm and his smile is hungry.

“What now?” Tango asks. His pulse flutters weakly in his fingertips.

“Now is the best part.” Doc lifts something from his cart that he can’t see.

He waits a few beats of awful suspension before there is a pitch at his arm, and the hiss of an injection gun. His nausea returns full force.

“Going to give that a few minutes to set in.” Doc says sweetly, “Don’t worry, you shouldn’t feel a thing.”

Tango dreads to know what he’s been injected with. It doesn’t take effect very quickly, but as the minutes tick by he realizes with dull dread that he cannot feel his fingers.

He’s numb.

“Feel that?” Doc asks.

Tango can’t tell where he’s been prodded, and his anxiety from earlier has eased. He tries to shake his head, but finds he’s still trapped in place, so he sighs softly, “No.”

“Fantastic.” Doc murmurs. He’s quietly cutting Tango’s shirt open. “Deep breath for me.”

Tango takes a slow, deep breath, unable to stretch into it when his hands are restrained above his head. Doc hums in approval.

He continues to cut away, pausing temporary to reach for another tool. Tango tries not to think about what Doc might do to him next. It’s easy. The drug he was injected with makes his brain cozy, in a way that his daily meds don’t. Normally his exhaustion only weighed on his body, but this is easy to lean back into.

Doc moved back to his cart for something else. As he moves back to Tango’s shirt, he can see several pins. From the angle his head is strapped down, he can’t see what Doc does with them. He can’t feel anything, but it sounds like Doc is pinning the front of his shirt open, pressing pins into the foam of the table.

“Deep breath in.” Doc prompts again. Tango complies, and Doc mutters, “Interesting.” Before scribbling on his clipboard again.

“What are you doing?” Tango mumbles.

Doc peers at him with a frown, as though contemplating how much Tango should know. “Dissection.” He says at last.

Tango frowns, “dissecting what?”

“You.” Doc makes another note on his clipboard, “Your insides are fascinating. Do you know what this organ is called?” he points near Tango’s sternum.

Tango thinks he would feel ill if he could feel at all, “My insides?” he manages weakly. He strains to look at himself, but he is firmly stuck in place.

“This one attached to your lungs,” Doc clarifies, realizing that Tango can’t see where he’s pointing, “Its moving when you breathe. What does it do?”

Tango is going to be sick. He’s going to throw up. He’s going to pass out. He will, he will.

“…Filter.” Doc decides, prodding at it a final time, “For all the nether ash.”

He takes another tool and investigates lower inside Tango’s chest. Tango’s breathing comes out rough and anxiously. He can’t breathe. He can’t. He can’t think. He fights against the restraints, but they hold steady.

Doc has him pinned open, and exposed, and he’s dying and weak and drugged and freaking terrified.

“Stop.” Tango chokes around his tight throat and panic, “please, I don’t-”

“You don’t need to worry.” Doc soothes, “The Watchers would end me if I killed their…” he searches for the correct world for a moment, before simply settling on, “Blazeborn.”

“Please.” Tango struggles to breath. His tears prick in his eyes, “please.”

Doc writes another note, and continues, “You won’t die. Can you give me another deep breath?”

Tango shakes through his panic, fighting his body. Deep breath. Deep breath. Please, please, just breathe.

“Good job.” Doc murmurs softly, “just like that.”

He pokes around some more, writing little notes in his clipboard and making small comments that Tango can’t make out. It’s all he can do to just breathe and breathe and hope Doc will be done soon.

Please be done soon.

Please.

“Kidneys are struggling.” Doc mumbles, “probably the heavy medication…”

Tango shutters, “how long?”

“Just a little longer.” Doc promises, “you’ve been so lovely and cooperative for me. You should give notes to Cleo.”

“…Okay.” Tango breathes.

The last several minutes pass in numb agony. Tango focuses on his breathing, suppressing the crushing panic that’s ever closing in. His cheeks are cold from crying.

He isn’t paying attention anymore by the time Doc starts to sew him up again. The pinch of the needle is hidden under the wave of drugs Tango is still floating in.

“The Watchers won’t schedule you for at least three days so you can heal. No extra medication, and be sure to eat plenty.” Doc is saying, as he ties the last knot into his skin. “I’ll see you again in a few days to check on the healing. Ask the Watchers for extra painkillers if you need them.”

Tango blinks at him though the haze of numbness. His heart is still panicked, and breathing is hard, but he’s so weak. So weak.

Doc gently undoes the restraints, “don’t stretch when you sit up.” He instructs.

Tango pulls into himself the moment he’s free. Everything is numb, and empty, and vulnerable, and weak.

“You’ve done a wonderful job, thank you.” Doc praises softly. “there should be Watchers right outside to take you back to your room. You’ll want to sleep for a while before you move much.”

Tango mumbles and nods, struggling to push upright. He’s got pale stitches in a capital “i” shape along his chest and stomach. Nausea rolls over him harshly. He gags.

Doc just nods, looking over his notes, “The numbing will wear off before tomorrow.” He says, discarding his clipboard and easing Tango off the operating table.

His legs give out immediately. Tango clings to Doc with the last of his dying strength, trying not to fall.

He’s walked to the door as Doc continues his thought, “if you heal up quickly, maybe the Watchers will let me take a look at their demon too…”

Tango is helped to his room by a Watcher, and then by Impulse and Pearl when it’s clear he needs more help.

He crashes on his bed, and is out almost immediately.

Meanwhile Doc begins his tests.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Part VI

Word count: 3100+

Warnings: none

Autumn themed divider by tsunami-of-tears

Part V | Part VII

Irene and Ellen bid you goodnight and left. You were determined to stay up tonight. It had been weeks since the night you spent in your husband's room, without even catching a glimpse of him. Maybe it was only because he was a very first person, a very first male who was nice to you. He was also your husband, a person you were bound to for the rest of your life because unlike human, Fae usually didn't get divorced. That made him the closest person you had at the moment, your family. It was natural that you wanted to see him, spend some time in his presence, hear his voice. The fact that you were attracted to him, was a bonus in this case.

However today, you had more than this one reason to see him. You wanted to thank him for a beautiful flower that he left for you that morning and mainly for the book that now rested on a coffee table next to the crystal vase.

You were full of nervous energy. Part of the night you spent by reading, forcing yourself to sit calmly, but when you became drowsy, you put the book down and started to pace around the room. The longest you'd managed to stay up so far, was until the midnight. Apparently that wasn't long enough. You wondered what time he actually went to bed every night and what he could do so long.

The clock in the sitting room struck midnight. You were standing by the window, partly hidden behind the open curtains, arms wrapped around your chest as it was quite cold. All lights were turned off, yet it wasn't completely dark and you could easily move around without ramming into furniture. You were looking out at stars. They shone so brightly tonight that whole garden bathed in their dim silver light, allowing you to recognise shapes of different plants and guarding soldiers. The night sky was so beautiful and peaceful, milliards of twinkling lights and full moon fascinated you. A shooting star cut across the sky when the doors of your room quietly opened.

You turned around in time to be met with your husband's startled expression. He stood there, brows furrowed, hand still on the handle, lips slightly parted.

"I.. I.." He seemed to be short for words.

"I was waiting for you, my Lord," you bowed, your cheeks turning pink.

Searching for the words, he looked back to the sitting room, then back at you. He looked exhausted, completely burned out. He was pale like a ghost with dark cycles under eyes, his shirt full of wrinkles and half of buttons undone. His red hair was longer than before, bound on the nape of his neck. Even in this miserable state, he was still very attractive. So attractive that your pulse quickened.

He cleared his throat, looking anywhere but you. "I didn't mean to disturb you. I thought you were already sleeping." Even his deep voice was tired and hoarse. He was about to leave. You had to stop him.

"I wanted to.. see you and express my gratitude to you," you whispered shyly.

"Eh.. That isn't necessary. You should go to bed. It's late." He turned around, ready to close the doors.

"Is that for me?"

He halted, his eyes fell to the flower in his hand. "Err.. Yes.. I- I thought you would like it." Was it just an optical illusion or did his cheeks really turned pink slightly?

You shyly took a step into the room. Eris hesitated for a moment, then closed the doors and stepped closer. His warm long fingers graced over yours as he handed it to you. This time he brought you a deep red anemone, a symbol of anticipation and expected love. Was it really just a coincidence? You believed it less and less. You couldn't suppress the happy smile, the warmth exploded from your heart, spreading to the rest of your body.

"It's beautiful, my Lord," you breathed out.

"Just Eris. Have you forgotten?"

"How could I? It's my favourite memory," shaking your head, you admitted with a trembling voice. "I would like to thank you for the other one and especially for the book. How did you know..?"

"I heard you enjoy going for the walks and particularly took interest in the flowers. So I thought you would like to read more about them."

"It's so interesting book, fascinating and the illustrations.. I'm so grateful."

"I'm glad you like it," he ran hand through his already messy hair.

His eyes fell to the mentioned book and he picked it up. "I'll have to get you new one soon," he chuckled, noticing the temporary bookmark made of hair pin.

"You could?"

"Sure." He returned the book back on the table.

"It's really late. We both should sleep," he sighed, looking at the bed longingly.

It was now or never kind of situation and you had to at least give it a try. You inhaled deeply, gathering the courage.

"Do you-... Why don't you-.. Would you sleep here tonight, Eris?" You were too scared to meet his eyes, afraid to see the rejection or even worse, the disgust or the scorn in them. You heard him inhale sharply, his fingers twitched. He stayed silent for several heart beats. You already wanted to take that offer back when he finally spoke.

"I-.." He shifted his weight and cleared his throat. "I guess I could. Just give me a minute."

Eris stopped at doors, glancing at you once more with a blank expression and furrowed brows as if he couldn't believe you really suggested that and he was gone. Your legs almost buckled under you in relief, but there was no time for that now. You ran to mirror to check your appearance. Smoothing down your nightgown and hair, you returned to your place near the window, suddenly getting butterflies in your stomach. You bit on your lower lip, hardly suppressing the smile. He would spend night with you.

You little bit jumped in surprise when he returned in less than ten minutes, water dripping from the ends of his wet hair. In one smooth motion his ran his hands through those red strands, drying them. You watched it in a daze, forgetting even how to breathe. Then he simply wiped hands into his sweatpants and finished buttoning clean white shirt. Unlike you, he seemed to be utterly unaffected by the situation.

"So.. can we?" he gestured to the bed, that cold, guarded mask he showed in public on his face.

He. Was. Here. In your room. Getting ready to sleep in your bed. You still couldn't believe that he agreed so easily and without any mean remark.

You followed him, smiling happily. Eris slipped under the covers on the left side of the bed, looking a bit tense as he was lying on his back. You took the right side, facing him. Strangely, you weren't scared of him and what he could do to you now.

"How was your day?" you whispered into the darkness of the room. You wanted to hear his voice at least one more time even if he would just tell you to let him sleep.

Gazing at ceiling, he didn't answer right away. "I had a lot of paperwork and meetings. This court is a total mess. Father wasn't the best ruler. I guess that it'll take me years to right the things and change everything to better," as he spoke he slowly relaxed.

You dared to move closer to his arm, your hand found his. Sweet smell of roasted apples and cinnamon filled your lungs mixed with some alcohol and you moaned softly. Had he drunk before he decided that he had enough of work for today and it's time to call it a night? You didn't noticed it before, but he wasn't so close then. For a brief moment you forgot your place and all you were taught, and you spoke freely as you did with Ellen and Irene.

"It must have been so hard. You look so exhausted. You shouldn't forget to take good care of your health, too."

You saw as his eyes widened and immediately regretted your mistake. Your heart painfully throbbed in your chest, cold sweat running down your spine. You, a female, dared to suggest to a male what he should do. You dreaded that this time you really overstepped that invisible line of his patience, that you insulted him. However, Eris just began laughing. Its rich sound echoed in the silent room and warmed your heart.

"Yeah, I'm dead. I would welcome a day off." He also rolled to his side, facing you. His dimly shining amber eyes roamed over your face, kind smile playing on his lips. "Thanks to you I feel better now."

His finger lightly brushed over your cheek and jaw, then traced the line of your lips. Your heart skipped several beats. "Tell me, are you used to this place yet? Is there something you need?"

"I have all I need. Thank you."

"Well, almost.." you added after a while. You were definitely trying your luck tonight.

"Almost?" His brow raised.

"Yes." You again considered it and then shook your head. It would be too much to ask from him, especially after he admitted he is too busy. "No, it's nothing."

"Tell me," he bade you, his head raised from a pillow.

"It would be too much to ask for.." you shifted uncomfortably, regretting that you mentioned it.

"That's for me to decide, don't you think?" He seemed to be displeased.

You silently watched him for a while, then submitted.

"I'd like to see you more often.." you muttered. His eyes widened, lips slightly parted. "I know you are too busy.. I shouldn't have asked for such ridiculous things.. I'm sorry-"

"It's fine," he stopped your ramble abruptly. His features hardened. "I'll try to make time. Now let's sleep. I have early morning."

You gaped at him in disbelieve. He agreed, didn't he. As your system worked through the initial shock, a wave of excitement arose. "Thank you," you moved even closer to him and pecked his cheek. "Good night, Eris. Sweet dreams."

The temperature in the room jumped up for a moment and then returned back to normal.

"Sweet dreams," he repeated, his voice strangely hoarse. His free hand found its way to your waist, gently squeezing it. From all the places where your bodies touched, a pleasant warmth spread all the way to your limbs. Lulled by calming moves of his thumb, you soon fell asleep.

Just two days after that night, giggling Ellen and Irene were leading you through the labyrinth of this castle. It was in the early afternoon, right after the lunch, so you had no idea where you're heading and of course, they didn't give away anything.

They finally stopped before a massive double doors. You'd never been in this part of castle yet and wanted to ask where they took you, but they already opened it and still giggling pushed you in. The doors closed with a loud thud before you could even turn around.

You gaped at place where their faces were mere seconds ago, stunned, then you dared to take a look around finding nothing but shelves and shelves full of books covering every centimetre of walls. A great, detailed map of the world was painted on the ceiling, the air was filled with smell of old parchment and ink.

It took you a while to notice that on the other side of the room, there was a set of comfortably looking armchairs and in one of them was seated Eris. The table in front of him was disappearing under number of heavy tomes. He was reading one of them, but when he heard the noise he looked up. Corners of his mouth curled in satisfied smile as he watched you exploring your surrounding with open mouth. When your eyes met, he put the book down with the others and stood up.

"Hey," he said lowly.

"Good afternoon," you bowed, quickly checking the huge room one more time. It was only the two of you.

Eris cleared his throat. "Since I have some work to do here, I thought you'd like to join me and take a look around. This probably isn't what you meant when you said that you want to see me more often, but.."

"No, I'm happy that I can be here with you," you smiled, your cheeks already heated. You didn't think he would really find time to meet you.

"Let me show you around," he offered and taking your hand Eris explained you what kind of books was where. At last he reached into one of the higher shelves and took out a book.

"I think that this one could be interesting for you." He handed you the old looking book. Herbs and their medical use. You gasped.

"Thank you. It's perfect," you smiled brightly at him.

His tense features softened as his gaze roamed over your happy face. "Let's sit down."

Eris took his previous seat while you sat down across from him. With a small nod, he took book he was reading before and returned to his work, occasionally writing down some notes on piece of paper.

You didn't want to bother him, but you were too excited that he allowed you to spend some time with him and couldn't concentrate on reading at all. Your eyes wandered every now and then to his face. He was frowning at the text in front of him, his face devoid of any emotions. You couldn't but notice a small wrinkle between his brows, your fingers itched with desire to smooth it out.

That nice smile was gone, corners of his plush mouth were twitched downward. He looked as a real High Lord now, powerful, dangerous and laden with the burden of lives that depended on him and his decisions. The amber eyes, much darker and cold now, were darting across the pages, sometimes he muttered under his breath.

His clothes were again wrinkled, the circles under his eyes even darker than the last time you saw him. For the first time you saw him with a fine stubble on his face and you had to admit it suited him, too. His bright red hair was pulled into a messy braid on the nape of his neck. He looked stressed out. You felt sorry for him and wished you could help him.

A few strands of hair slipped out of the braid and fell into his eyes. He pushed them away only for them to fall right back down. He fumed and put them behind his ear.

"Can I?" You timidly stuttered.

He looked up and blinked. "What?"

You fidgeted with your fingers nervously. "I could try to fix your hair for you."

Another pause. "Go ahead then."

Breathing out shakily you stood behind him. He tensed, even stopped breathing as you took the leather cord between your fingers and pulled. Shiny red hair immediately spread over his shoulders. You didn't have comb, so you improvised and carefully dragged your fingers through the silky strands, gently undoing the knots.

While you carefully worked, his shoulders slumped and he completely relaxed. His eyelids drooped and a small moan escaped between his lips.

"Everything all right?"

"Yeah, it's pleasant."

You hummed in answer and in small circles massaged his temples. Groaning, his head fell back.

"That's so good." The scent of apples grew stronger, covering the smell of smoke. "Lately my head is about to explode."

"Something is worrying you?" you asked quietly.

"Too many things, honestly." A small smirk found its way to his face. "Ruling this court is exhausting."

Amber eyes opened and found yours. He was so close you could see all the details you hadn't noticed before. His irises resembled liquid fire. A glow that radiated from them, was dangerous yet it didn't burn you. It felt like gazing into a sun, but you couldn't stop. They captured you in a iron grip, mesmerizing you until you wished you could take away all the worry and tiredness that you saw in those blazing depths.

You probably voiced that thought aloud, because he blinked and broke the connection. "You are already helping me. I feel much better ever since you came."

He straightened up and you blinking shook your head. What was that? It was as if he was inside you, in your head and your heart, as if you felt what he felt for a moment. Such a strange but not unpleasant experience.

You combed his hair with your fingers one more time, gathering the unruly strands. Then you divided them into three sections and braided them, securing it with the leather cord at last.

"It's done," you stepped away and returned to your seat.

Eris reached up and carefully checked your work. He smiled, his eyes avoiding you. Did he feel it too?

"It's much better. Thank you." Without another word he set to work again.

It took you some time to focus on your own book, but once you began reading, it was hard to stop. And even then you often sneaked peeks at your husband, unable to resist the urge to look at him. There was something fascinating about his frown, focused expression and sharp features.

After few hours he closed all the books and with a wave of hand sent them to their places on shelves. He gathered his papers and looked at you.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go. I have meeting in few minutes."

"Thank you very much for allowing me to be with you. I really enjoyed it," you thanked him with a hopeful smile.

"I enjoyed it too. And thanks for this," he gestured to his hair. His features softened as a corner of his lips rose in a one-sided boyish grin.

You stood up, heading for the shelf to return the book.

"You can take it with you if you want. Also, you can come here anytime. It's private library of our family, so nobody should bother you here."

Thanking him you pressed the book to your chest. There was so much you wanted to learn. It was nice to know that your husband supported you in this desire and even gave you a key to freedom to choose what you wanted to learn.

Eris escorted you to the doors of your chambers and before he left, he pecked your cheek while squeezing you in a hug with one arm for a brief moment. As much as it was unexpected, it was pleasant and awoken a different kind of desire in you.

"See you soon," he muttered and quickly marched away. You watched his strong back until he turned the corner and you sincerely wished to see him again very soon.

[buggyboba]

✦ October 24th | sex pollen

AN 𓏧

↳ ○ | AN| Hi, hello, we are going to pretend that this isn't three days late. I was FIGHTING for my life with this one, I'm not going to lie. We got there though, I'm not 100% happy with this, but that might be me being real nit picky. The Master is a real ass in this one, it feels a little non-con, since a few things happen, I'll throw it in the TW too, but it's not really, just kinda vibes briefly. I'm only going to do one more, (well two because treat won for trick or treat, so I will be doing a Dhawan!Master x Reader one and a Kate Stewart x Reader one for Halloween, to finish it out. Once again I will keep the rest of the ones I didn't do for Kinktober and maybe release them slowly. This was a big big challenge for me, the whole kinktober thing, and that's on me for thinking a week or so before October that I could certainly do 31 fanfictions, even if they were supposed to be short little smutty drabbles. I have quickly learned, I can't just write short little things...I won't apologize for that though, because that's the roleplayer in me...I was absolutely one of those long-ass novel writing role players. I LIKE WORDS IDK WHAT TO TELL YOU LET ME HAVE MY PROSE AND STUFF! Anyway I once again tried to keep it rather gender-neutral, but it's implied female anatomy, but if you squint maybe not? I tried, I SWEAR I will do Master x male reader sometime. SMUT MDNI

SUMMARY𓏧

↳ ○  how was he supposed to know the flowers on this planet were in bloom this time of year. How was he supposed to know how they would effect your human body? (Spoilers he knew.) 

PAIRING𓏧

↳ ○ Simm!Master x Reader

TW𓏧

↳ ○ mentions of hypnosis, sex pollen, so consensual, but at what cost? sort of vibes. unprotected p in v sex, semi-clothed sex, the master is a right asshole, cumshot. petnames.

WORD COUNT𓏧

↳ ○ 3100

A03 lINK𓏧

↳ ○ x

MASTERLIST LINK𓏧

↳ ○ x

★𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★ 𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★

You were suspicious when he brought you to this planet; he called it Hevides, said it was a nice little flora planet, perfect this time of year. You shoved your hands in your jacket pockets, looking around as he exited the tardis, which aptly was pretending to be a tree. That wasn’t going to cause problems later, you were sure. He explained that there were a few rare plants on Hevides that he wanted to get his hands on; he wouldn’t tell you what for, but you assumed it was for a nefarious plan; it always was. You followed after him; it was a beautiful planet, you would give it that, but you also had a deep, nagging fear that a man-eating plant or something was going to get you, and that would be a terrible fate, just this giant piranha plant from Wish looking thing eating you. You were careful where you stepped; thick vines were littering the forest floor, which definitely didn’t help your imagined scenario of being eaten by a plant while there. 

“Are you sure it’s safe?” you finally asked, but his annoyed scoff told you it was the wrong question to ask. 

“Ye’ of such little faith,” he muttered as he walked past you.

“I mean, do I have to remind you of the fish people?” You started.

“Fish peop—you mean the sea devils? Come now, pet, that’s xenophobic.” He teased you. You stammered and tried to back petal, to which he chuckled and kept walking. “They weren’t fish; they were more like turtles if anything,” he shook his head.

“No, I didn’t mean it in a—I didn’t know they were called that." You stammered out, “And wait, wait, you don’t get to call me that; you are the most—” He cut you off and shook his head.

“Just because I think everyone is beneath me? Because they are, and you silly little apes are no exception, little backward things you are,” he tilted his head watching you. “Now don’t pout, pet; I picked you, didn’t I? As my companion,” he smirked his tone, teasing on the word companion. He disliked the word, but it was the best word to describe you and your relationship. 

"Yeah, moving on; we don’t have time for all that right now; you told me the sea devils were safe, and then they tried to kill us.” You pointed out.

“Miscommunication, and perhaps some old hard feelings.” He waved it off and clapped, making a victorious sound as he spotted what he was looking for. It was a large purple and orange flower; it looked similar to a sunflower if you had to compare it to something; the middle was covered in thick red pollen. He motioned you over, and you shifted, walking a bit closer. You hadn’t noticed how careful he had been stepping around it. When you got close enough, he flicked the back of the flower, making the pollen fly into the air around you. You coughed and sputtered, trying to cover your mouth so more of the bitter pollen didn’t get into your mouth. You looked at him with a look of disbelief as you doubled over coughing harder. 

“Don’t fight it; just breathe normally," he instructed as he observed you. “I just want to see how it affects you,” he said almost nonchalantly. 

“An experiment, right now, with a mystery plant!” You used the sleeve of your jacket trying to breathe. You felt funny, but not in a funny way; more like your body was slowly getting hotter, your blood was on fire, and your skin felt uncomfortable, like your clothing touching it was too much. The feeling was overwhelming quickly. Then the heat pooled, and you felt an ache between your legs. You blinked, trying to determine the feeling and will it away. Your head was hazy. You took a step back, your pupils dilating more; he moved forward, catching you before you almost fell in your attempted retreat. 

His fingers pressed against the side of your neck, on your pulse point, feeling your heart racing, pulsing against his fingers, he hummed. Your hand wrapped around his forearm; you tried to look angry, but your body was on fire, and his cold touch felt good; it would feel better lower. You blinked at your own thought; you felt your mouth water, and he pulled you up carefully. “Talk me through what you are feeling,” he smirked. “I mean, I can see some physical signs, some delightful tells, but I want to know how it feels for you.” He said like he was a scientist, and this was all a very ethical experiment. 

You almost didn’t want to tell him; you felt squirmy. Was that a word you could use? Was that a scientific description? “I’m on fire,” you breathed out. His hand grabbed your throat, letting his thumb brush your jawline before he moved your head side to side to look you over with that cocky grin. You let out a softer sound, “I don’t know, I mean, it’s overwhelming really; I am shaky, and there is this..." You paused, not knowing if you wanted him to know about the ache, but he looked at you with an expectant look. “I just...feel horny,” you muttered out the last word, looking away from him, but he tsked and pushed your jaw with his thumb so you would look back at him. “I just, I need..." You sighed.

“Need what? Go on, tell me... I am all ears.” He grinned at you again; you could tell he had a sort of satisfaction about this reaction. You wanted to stay mad, you really did, but your mind was so hazy now that you couldn’t think about anything but getting rid of this ache. It was nothing like you had ever felt before, and you were worried, scared almost. What was this pollen doing to you? 

“I just want the ache to go away. I just want—” you muttered out, locking eyes with him. His honey-colored eyes took you in. He studied your face, how flushed you looked, and how desperate you sounded. He looked down at you as your hips arched subconsciously against his, and a snider grin took his lips. 

“Such a needy, desperate thing.” He teased, “And why should I help you?” He asked like this wasn’t completely his fault. 

You blinked and looked at him almost in disbelief, “Because you brought me here! Because you made the pollen come off the flower?” You said shortly, his free hand left his pocket and moved to grab right above your hip. “You knew this would happen!” You accused, to which he gave you those puppy dog eyes.

“I didn’t know this exact thing would happen; I mean, I could have hypothesized about the effects on your silly human body, but I wasn’t completely sure, well, until now.” He nodded. “It won’t kill you, so stop worrying so much; just feel a bit.” He grinned, “You are adorable like this...all needy.” He mused a bit; he found this whole thing amusing, and you let out an annoyed strangled sound; you were getting so worked up, and he was just standing there being amused; you could strangle him. 

“Why isn’t it affecting you?” You sighed, trying to focus. You had a lot of willpower, so maybe you could work through this, maybe. 

“Respiratory bypass... held my breath when I flicked it.” He shrugged like it should have been common knowledge to you by now. "Plus, I’m sure it wouldn’t have affected me anyway.” He let your throat go and stepped back. “Come along. There really was something else I needed to get here.” He said and started to walk. You didn’t move; however, he paused when he didn’t hear you following him. He turned to you and raised an eyebrow. “Well?” You stayed still; you didn’t know if you could trust your legs to carry you properly. He rolled his eyes. “Are you playing disobedient now? Should I make you follow me, pet?” He asked, and you knew he was implying he was just hypnotizing you; maybe that would override what you were feeling. 

“No, you don’t have to do that,” you muttered. You took a deep breath and forced your legs to move; even though they shook a bit, your whole body did. You didn’t like this feeling, this sheer feeling of need; the heat was almost unbearable. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you slowly followed him, glaring at the back of his stupid head as he leisurely strolled through the forest looking for what he was really after. You walked for what felt like ever; the effects were getting worse, your body shook more, and you had to stop and lean against a tree to hold yourself up. "Master,” you breathed out. He paused, taking note of your breathy call. He turned around and looked at you, taking in your appearance; it seemed the pollen was in full bloom in you now. He tilted his head, noticing how you were leaning, how you subconsciously clenched your thighs together, and how one hand gripped onto the stomach area of your jacket. You looked weak now, shaky. He inwardly sighed like you were a nuisance before he turned on his heel and walked towards you. 

“You humans are so fragile,” he muttered and moved to pin you against the tree; his hands ran through your hair, forcing you to look at him again. The touch made you breathe out, “You aren’t going to be any good to me if you can’t keep up.” He mock pouted at you, “I suppose I, once again, have to take care of you.” He gave an exaggerated sigh, moving to let his hand trail down your stomach, stopping at the button of your pants. He looked at you for a moment, taking note of how your eyes were hazy, how you had the look of pure need, and how he could smell how aroused you were just by the air around you. That pollen made short work of you, and it amused him more than it should have. It melted your reservations, so much so that you were shifting a bit, trying to get him to undo your pants; it was like your mind couldn’t think of anything but getting off. “Oh and out here in the open, the great outdoors, how scandalous of you, bunny.” He mocked a bit. You felt your cheeks heat up more. He was right; you would have never done anything like this in public, not that this was public; this was in the middle of an alien forest; you hadn’t seen signs of civilization or anything of that sort, though that didn’t mean there wasn’t. 

You choked out a whine; you didn’t want to wait anymore, yet here he was being his normal mocking, snarky self, taking his time because he wanted to annoy you; that’s what it had to be. He finally pulled the button free, and with a delicate movement, he unzipped your pants, letting them fall past your knees and pool around your feet, but he didn’t touch you yet; he let his hand slip under your jacket, pushing it and your shirt up as he stepped closer, his mouth pressing against your neck, his hands groped at your chest, kneading the flesh there, listening to the lovely needy sounds that were spilling from your parted lips. He pressed against you more, keeping you snuggly pressed against the tree, the bark scraping your back, but the pain from it didn’t translate; it almost felt good. Your hand gripped and your nails scraped at the bark; your other hand grabbed his arm, gripping the fabric of his black jacket. Each kiss and nip caused you to whine and groan out; it felt so good; everything felt so enhanced; someone could be making a killing using this as one of those ‘enhancer’ pills, a funny thought that was quickly pushed from your head as his hips rolled against yours, grinding against you. He let a soft growl escape his throat as he sucked a dark mark into your skin before his hands slid down and grabbed your legs, easing them up to sit against his hips. You wrapped your legs around him, your body so hot, your blood felt like it was boiling, you whined out, you felt so damn needy, you didn’t like it, your senses were on overdrive. 

"Oh, what fun little sounds you make,” he muttered against your throat and pressed an open-mouth kiss against it before letting his teeth graze again. All these little touches and nips were driving you mad.

“Master! Please!” You choked out, pressing against him more, well, as much as you could in this position. As you pathetically rutted against him, he arched his hips up some, and you could feel his arousal, the bulge in his pants growing. He moved one hand down to undo his belt, and you gave a soft, needy sound. 

“Down pet,” he smirked, kissing your neck again as he pulled his belt some and then undid his pants. “So needy, I bet you are dying to get fucked.” He growled in your ear. The growl sent a rippling shiver down your spine; you had never needed something more than in this moment. “I’ll admit, this was a very insightful experiment.” He said pulling himself free from his boxers, slowly stroking his cock, teasing against you with the tip, “like a dam broke.” He teased you; you hated that, but you couldn’t help it; the pollen thrummed through you still. You were about to say something, anything to get him to just help you, but he pressed the tip into your dripping entrance. Which caused a breathy sound to escape. He slowly sank in, pulling you against him, One hand moved to cup against your ass, and the other was held against the tree by the side of your head as he started a deliciously slow rhythm. It was clear he was milking this to see you so desperate that you would do anything. It made perfect sense to you; with who he was, you knew he was going to make you beg, even though this was all his fault. Acting like it was an inconvenience, and he was so benevolent to help you, to fuck you. 

Your hips rolled against him, trying to get him to stop being so teasingly; his mouth found your neck again, sucking against your pulse point; he could feel how hard your heart was pounding, and you panted out. A deep thrust pulled a long groan from your throat, which made him smirk against your neck. You clenched against him, a diabolically delightful feeling for both of you, which made him grunt against you, biting your neck. He got the message and moved, pressing you harder against the tree, picking up his pace to something rougher, something faster; he wasn’t being playfully teasing anymore. 

“I don’t think you really mean it; maybe I should stop and let you think about it some.” He pulled his hips back, but you tightened your grip around his waist; there was no way in hell you were going to let him stop. 

Your nails scratched into the treebark behind you, the hand against his arm tightened more, your breath ragged as you groaned and moaned out, the feeling intense, the pleasure making you dizzy thanks to your already hazy mind from the pollen, you felt your muscles tighten and a pooling in your stomach, from your tensing and how your core pulsated around him, he knew you were close. He slowed suddenly, causing you to make a pathetic sound. “You can cum when I say you can,” he nipped below your ear. You couldn’t even think; your mind was swirling. How could he be so cruel and control this right now when your body needed this? “Oh, you want it so badly; listen to you, whining,” he smirked and made a mock whine in your ear. “You know what to ask for.” He breathed out and rolled his hips slowly, pulling almost all the way out, before slowly pushing back in.

You weren’t even sure you could form proper words right now, and he wanted you to feed into his control; he wanted you to beg for him to finish you. There was another low whined sound that he pulled from your throat. You thought about not playing his game, but he would stop, and you certainly didn’t want that. “Please, please let me cum, please, I need to,” you begged out, in the best tone you could manage, even arching and writhing against him, making sure to lock eyes with him. He studied you and shook his head with that cocky grin.

“Master please!” You slid your hand up from his arm to the back of his neck, keeping him close. “I’m sorry! Please! Please, I need you. I’m sorry, please! Please let me cum.” You breathed out in an almost panicked breath; this seemed to please him because he returned to the rhythm that he had been at before. “Please!” You doubled down. The stream of begging words and praises fell from your lips as you clung to him. You choked out a loud screamed Master, as you felt your body snap, the pleasure rushing your blood. The feeling of need was there but not as strong as it had been. He hissed out as your walls clenched against him and flexed milking against his cock. There was a moment he considered marking you as his in the most primal way, but he reluctantly pulled from your divine heat, rutting against you, holding the base of his cock as he groaned out, painting your stomach with strands of hot cum; it splattered against your bare stomach and the bottom of your jacket. There would be time for anger about that later. After a few long silent moments, he let you down to lean against the tree he had just fucked you against as he fixed his pants and redid his belt, making a face as he looked over your appearance. “Messy,” he said, like he once again didn’t cause the problem. 

You took deep breaths trying to come down, you slowly fixed yourself, and your gaze flinted up to him. You could feel the prickle of the pollen still, but it certainly wasn’t as bad as it had been. “Do you think you can focus and keep up now? Tell you what, darling, we finish this up, and maybe if you are good and keep up, we can have some more fun when we get back to the tardis; dunno how long the pollen is going to control your silly little human mind, but I would love to study the effects more closely.” He smirked, and you nodded weakly, looking down at the mess he had made of you. It was going to be a long adventure, that was for sure. 

★𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★ 𓏧 𓏧 𓏧★

Taglist𓏧 ↳ ○ @bees-fart-too , @bakusquadobsessed , @anastasa-mslfedit , @cabinedepapel , @asteria237 , @suckerforcate , @bingewatchingmylifegoby , @toastvogel , @starbucks-06 If you want to be added to the rest here is the l x

[justfreakynothingelse]

The Sweetest Perfection...

Word count: 3100-ish

(CW; Mommy kink, lactation, medical mentions, general Mortarion self-depreciation)

It has been… a very long week. Mortarion has not slept since he last had his beloved by his side. He's been preparing for yet another thankless campaign, and has been unable to stop and go rest with her. This brings him to now; he has finally collapsed onto his meager bed and is just waiting for his beloved to join him… though she's taking far longer than usual. He is a patient man, though; this delay is nothing.

But as the minutes slide into over an hour and his beloved is still in the bathroom, he does get… concerned. He finds it far easier to truly rest, with her around, and this absence is unusual, given the gusto she usually greets him with. He slinks over to the door, rapping near-silently against the metal.

“Eeeh!- Tari?” she's so quiet… something is wrong. “Something is wrong. You are never away this long after I return. Let me in.”

He can hear her throat click, as she swallows. He can smell the fear-scent leaking under the door; a pungent, acrid smell. But she obeys, and the door unlocks. He slides it open and enters; filling the room like endless fog on a field. She's curled up on the floor, trying to be small… She never does this. What is wrong? Is she hurt? If she is hurt, he will tear this ship apart-

The scent of terror fills the room. She has never been afraid of him before; why now? He stoops low, to be more on her level, though of course he still towers above her.

“What is wrong? Tell me.”

“Tari, it's really weird, I shouldn't-”

“Tell. Me,” he hisses, a tone he seldom uses with her - “Now.”

She looks like she's about to cry, as she uncurls and drops her knees, revealing… oh. Oh. Her breasts have ballooned in size. They were proportional, before, but this is almost comical. Mortarion restrains a blush, as he realizes just how much he has stared at her, in the past… he truly is revolting, to spend such time enjoying her charms, even if they haven't done anything yet. But oh, tears are slipping down her face… why? This is something many baseline women want; why is this bad?

“How did this happen?”

“I got sick and went to the medicae… they gave me medicine and it worked, I was fine in a day, but then this happened… I feel like a grox…”

Mortarion suppresses a huff—the most humor he typically expresses—at that. It would not help. She's clearly distressed, and her distress is not something he savors. He does not want her to be upset like this, but what can he do?

“They must have had the astartes medication mixed in with the medication for baselines… I will ensure that is dealt with.”

“Thank you, Tari, but… that doesn't fix… well, this! I can't go around like this! My robes would never hide it, and everyone would make fun of me… I don't even know how long it'll last.”

Mortarion pushes down his appreciation of her newfound form; she would never want him like that. He is everything she is not. He is everything she should despise, and yet she treats him with such kindness. He will not repay that kindness with lust; with any sort of desire to… to desecrate her. Her purity. Her beauty. With his lanky, awkward, grotesque form.

He's about to start attempting to comfort her, but she sneezes. He goes to hand her a tissue, and hears her gasp. He looks over immediately, and swiftly notices the issue… her breasts are leaking, and they are leaking copiously. The sweet scent of milk hits the back of his throat, then, and he withholds a whine. He wets his lips and slicks his tongue over the jacobson's organ in the roof of his mouth, and his eyes roll back for a moment from the raw, primal, crazed lust that floods him.

What could this event be but a gift?

She starts crying anew, and he all but lunges for her; a single giant hand cupping her chin. This is more contact than he usually initiates, so she startles at having his (brilliant, beautiful) lavender eyes so close to hers. He stifles a growl; her smell is so much stronger, this close to her.

“I feel like I should curl up and die,” she whimpers, mortification evident in her voice.

It's then that she notices his staring, straight at the stain of milk on her robes. It's still dripping down… and a downright sinful idea comes to her mind. She fears to act on it, but Mortarion keeps staring and wetting his lips, not even blinking…

“Tari, I have an idea, but you probably won't like it…”

He grunts in response; ever practical. His eyes don't leave her breasts for a moment.

“Do you… are you okay with… could you… help me? With this?”

He releases a breath she hadn't realized he was holding, and meets her eyes.

“How?”

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

“There you go, just like that,” she practically purrs as he first latches his lips onto her breast. His face is bright red, now; an almost inhuman flush on his pallid skin.

He's not sure what to expect, and only scarcely more sure what to do, but he carefully sucks on her breast like she praised him for, and the first rivulet of milk hits his tongue. He almost passes out, then, and a rich, deep moan thunders from within him. She bites her lip as he looks up at her (his eyes are heavy with need), and a quiet moan flows from her like water from a hidden spring. He's not sure he could stop even if she begged him to. Somehow, this is everything he's ever wanted… no, everything he's ever needed. One of her hands comes down to pet his hair, and his eyes roll back. A high-pitched whine leaves his throat.

Minutes pass; her breast slowly lightens. Is this how mothers feel, as their child nurses? Thoughts similar to that flicker through both of their minds, as time passes. The better part of an hour is whiled away, with Mortarion suckling and kneading at the same breast. Eventually, though, the seemingly endless spring of ambrosia runs dry, and Mortarion whimpers, his face as red as a wildflower and his eyes hooded.

“Mommy… ‘s no more… Mommy, I need more, I need-” He slurs out, and her heart almost breaks, seeing her strong, proud man so desperate. She feels like she can breathe again, with one breast drained; how much better would it feel to have both emptied…?

She unzips her nightdress; freeing her other breast, and gasps. Mortarion practically throws himself against the newly available breast, but she's just stuck, mouth gaped wide, at how much larger her full breast is… what kind of stuff is in that astartes medication?

Mortarion, however, is almost completely milk drunk, at this point. Suckling like this is fulfilling some need he never knew he had. His stomach has so much more space, and every drop of milk he gets is like a taste of the finest ambrosia. His mommy beloved is petting his hair, his face is pressed against warm, plush breasts, he doesn't have to think or lead… he just wants to stay here. He kneads a little bit harder, causing a large amount of milk to flood his mouth. He moans and bucks against the floor, and oh, what is wrong with him? He shouldn't like this. He shouldn’t be thinking these things about his mommyyyy darling. But this all tastes so good… and she doesn't seem to mind. She just tells him to be gentle, if he suckles or kneads too hard.

He even smelled a different type of sweetness hit the air, when he called her mommy for the first time…

She adjusts a bit, under him; seemingly about to make him stop.

“Mommy… you taste so good. I can't stop, mommy, mommy, please don't make me stop…” and he whines it; every word practically a prayer for her to let him keep going. To not make him stop; to never make him stop. The milk entering his mouth is almost a flood, now; his mind is getting crazed with blind lust. The milk is just so plentiful. How many of their children could she feed?

He actually starts feeling full, now, but there's still more milk, and he can't stop. It's too good; he just can't. He has to drink until she's empty... and so he does.

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

With a slight pop, Mortarion releases her breast. He's panting, and his lips are almost sore from suckling for so long. He presses his face to her chest as he purrs; he's so full, and has never felt so loved. Though, that seems to be manifesting in more ways than one…

She startles; feeling him press against her foot. It's the only part of her he can reach like this. He's so hard; he feels like he'll explode. His mommy is under him… his soft, pretty, fertile mommy… his face is pressed against her breast still, though he's no longer suckling. No; now he's panting and chuffing and inhaling her scent like it's the only thing keeping him alive, all while grinding his cock against her foot.

And oh, this is getting her all bothered, now. He's so big; even with him pressed against so little of her, she can tell that much very easily. He's panting, as he grinds against her, and internally, he's going wild. With need, yes, but also embarrassment. This is so new; they hadn't even kissed yet, and now this? It's too much, but he needs it. He needs to be inside her - he needs to bury his seed as deep as it can go and not stop until he's empty.

He needs to breed her.

Mortarion picks her up in one arm, then, and begins carrying her back to his bed. It's not very comfortable (she deserves better), but it's better than the bathroom floor.

“Tari, what are you doing-”

“I need more; I need more I need more-”

He rests her down on the bed and pushes up her night dress. It's a white, flowing thing; almost like the long petals of some flower, cloistered away in a hidden garden. All for him The zipper that goes partially down the front is, of course, undone. He feels like he's committing a terrible violation, by revealing her in this new way. How could he be worthy? He could only ever defile her in the most base and disgusting ways, but… she's not fighting him. She's taking her underwear off by herself, as he hesitates to even touch her thighs. She's guiding his hands up her legs; spreading her open, and he moans as her scent hits him. She puts a hand on his head; long, white hair draping over the bed, and pulls him closer so carefully, so kindly.

Mortarion presses trembling kisses up the soft skin of her inner thigh; a single huge, skeletal hand holding it as he does. He never thought he would get this far with anyone… but now his nose is pressing against her clit, and she whimpers as he carefully, with her guidance, moves up and flicks his tongue against the tiny bundle of nerves. She jolts against his face, and his eyes grow heavy and half-lidded. He thought her milk was ambrosia enough, but now this?

He can't stop tasting her; every lick brings new beautiful sounds. She begs him to slip a finger inside her, and they both gasp, though for different reasons. Her, because even just a single finger of his is so big. Him, because she's so tight and hot and wet and… and she feels like those velvets Fulgrim won't shut up about.

“Tari… ‘s so big! ‘S just one and it's so big…” and he groans… he doesn't know how much baseline women can take, but… he knows his cock is a lot bigger than a single one of his fingers. He's seen the statistics; a single one of his fingers is longer than an average baseline man's entire cock… (He'll breed her so thoroughly)

He slips another finger in, soon after, and she whimpers. She's begging him to move his fingers in and out as he licks, and he does, and…

“Ahn- Good boy-”

He snaps his hips against the bed, and it takes all the restraint he has left to not yell. This must be bliss, because if this isn't—if being milk-drunk, hard, having his hair played with, and getting all these needy hormones shot straight into his brain—isn't bliss, then the very concept of it must be a lie. At the thought of her milk, his mouth moves up to one of her breasts; trying to see if there's any more milk for him as he fingers her. He's pleasantly surprised when a stream of it spurts into his mouth, and he suckles until she runs dry, driving his fingers deeper, spreading her open and rubbing her clit, all the while.

“Tari, please, I need you inside me! Please, please-” and he operates on instinct alone, now. Raising himself to his knees and all but ripping off his belt, he fishes his cock from within his pants and it springs into view; hard and aching, the head of it practically purple from pent up need. She spreads her legs as wide and as high as she can, and spreads her soft folds to allow him to line up easily. He almost cums then and there.

She's presenting herself for him.

Part of him still feels like he should be curling into a ball and throwing himself out of the airlock, but… he can see how he's stretched her open. He can see how she's a mess, and it's all for him. She whimpered about how she's never done any of this before, as he stuffed his second finger into her, and he felt self-directed revulsion… and incredible desire. She wants him to be her first?

He starts wheezing out gasps, as he sinks into her. His hips and thighs tremble with the effort it takes to not just slam himself balls-deep immediately; to not sink as deep as her body can take and then some. To not immediately claim her.

“Mommy… M- ah, ah… Mommy, please…”

“Don't stop, don't stop,” she whispers in response. He bites his lip as he slowly sinks deeper; tearing chunks of dead, dry skin off of his lips as he does. Her hands are on him, desperately trying to pull him closer; to take him deeper. He pulls out and pushes back in, inch by inch, and he understands why baselines kill for their partners. He bottoms out inside her—she's shaking and moaning underneath him—and his body feels like it's on fire. He's gasping for breath, as he lets her pull him down. All he can do is cage her in, now, as he testingly thrusts within her, earning a ragged moan. She's so soft. He moves so slowly, but she keeps begging him for more. For faster. For deeper. She moves her legs up, to be pressed against his chest, and he feels like he'll combust.

Oh, she's so small and sweet and fertile and he'd kill for her; he'd level cities for the crime of a citizen of them even looking at her. He'd give her a whole planet all for herself, if he could; just for her and some friends or helpers… and their babies Just him and mommy his beloved...

Plap plap plap plap

It feels like it's been hours, but the clock on the wall shows that it's so clearly only been about half an hour. Every whimper and sigh from her is like the sweetest song; he can't get enough. Her every action stokes the flames of his passion higher and higher, and he can feel an orgasm creeping up on him. He never thought he would have this… he always thought he'd only have her in his most shameful, private moments, when he has his legs thrown wide; one hand cupping his balls, heavy and full, as the other furiously works his aching cock. But somehow, here he is, and every slap of skin against skin reminds him that it's really happening.

His panting increases in pitch; his orgasm is almost here. He's fighting the urge to sheath himself within her; to defile her deepest reaches with his wretched seed, but her little hands on his thighs, desperately clawing him closer, make that prospect more and more difficult to entertain.

“Tari, cum in me! Fill me, please,” and he almost blacks out, hearing those words. She wants him. Her innermost depths, practically holy… she would invite him to fill them. His thrusting picks up speed, his panting starting to take on a whining edge.

“Ohh… Mommyyy,” he whines; a high pitch so unusual, for the normally stoic primarch, that it almost startles his lover out of her state of crazed, fuck-drunk need. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… take it, mommy, take it! Take it all, please!”

He hilts himself within her, and his head falls limp to the bed. The only sounds Mortarion can make now are panting and wheezing, as spurt after spurt of thick, sticky, and (unknown to both) fertile transhuman cum coats every crevice of her insides. He feels like it'll never end; it just keeps coming. Her hands are all over him, as she feels his almost boiling-hot seed flood her. His drool is making a puddle on the freshly-cleaned sheets; his hips twitching slightly as his orgasm winds down.

What has he done?

Suddenly, he's stiff, in her arms. He slowly lifts himself from her, watching her legs finally go slack as pressure is removed from them, earning a happy groan from the mouth of his lover. He can see some of his seed leaking out around him, and he wants to scream… he's ruined her. How could he do this to her? How could he destroy her opportunity to have a husband? A family? His putrid, cursed cum fills her, now… no one would want her, even though she's still the one who moves the stars and planets in his sky. He looks down at her; not willing to meet her eyes, and feels her shift under him, hands coming up to cradle his head.

“Tari?”

“I've soiled you… I've polluted you. I'm sorry, I should never have tried to find out what was wrong.”

She pulls herself off of him, then; cock moving easily since it's slicked by inhuman amounts of cum. A small whine leaves her, but she just grabs him and pulls him down onto the bed… with her. Holding him tightly.

“You're everything I've ever wanted, my love.”

Tags: @undeaddream

[punkrockmlchael]

"I Missed You"

Masterlist | Gareth Emerson Masterlist | Corroded Coffin Masterlist

Gareth Emerson x Fem!Reader

(Both Gareth and Reader are in their early 20s)

This fic is for: birthday boy pop-up event by @corrodedcoffinfest ; the prompt is “birthday”

Prompt: Birthday | Word Count: 3100 | Rating: E | POV: Reader | Relationships: Gareth Emerson x Fem!Reader | Content Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Mentions of Starting a Family | Tags: Gareth Emerson, Corroded Coffin, Life on the Road, Pre-Established Relationship, Birthday Boy, Celebrating Gareth's Birthday on Tour, Soft and Sweet Sex

Warnings: 18+ mdni, Pre-Established Relationship, Lovey Dovey Gareth (He just wants to make you feel good because, he missed you), Smut: Oral (Fem Receiving), Fingering, Cum Eating, Unprotected PinV, Soft and Sweet Miss You Sex (seriously you're just talking the whole time), Creampie, afab reader

Synopsis: Gareth's birthday occurred this year while on tour with Corroded Coffin, which meant that it looked a bit different. Instead of the normal breakfast in bed and day spent together you were miles apart. But, the boys of Corroded Coffin step up to help you surprise your favorite boy on a day that's all about him.

Word Count: 3.1k

Today was a day that always meant so much to you: Gareth's Birthday.

Normally, you would get up early and make your loving boyfriend some homemade pancakes flavored with some sweet almond extract and cinnamon powder, some crispy bacon and some sunny side up eggs. You'd bring him an entire feast in bed with a cup of freshly brewed hot coffee flavored with that sweet caramel creamer he enjoyed too much. Like, seriously, how did he drink his coffee that sweet? 

Normally, you would be making a cake at this time, double checking that the homemade red velvet cake was perfectly moist and baked before starting that homemade cream cheese frosting that Gareth would literally do anything for. No, really, if you left that fluffy, sweet frosting unattended on the counter he would be taking tastes of it all day, until the bowl was empty again.

This year, however, was anything but normal. No, this year Corroded Coffin was off touring the country, sharing their music with so many people. And, while you were extremely happy for your boyfriend and your friends, that meant that Gareth's birthday would look a bit... different this year.

So, instead of taking a perfectly baked cake out of the oven to cool you were rushing through the airport in Los Angeles, trying to find Jeff. He said he would be waiting for you when you landed while Eddie and Grant kept Gareth occupied so you could surprise him for his birthday while on tour.

And you were so grateful that you had such amazing friends that were willing to help you still give your boyfriend a special birthday, despite the circumstances. Those boys really loved you and Gareth, or maybe they were just sick of Gareth being an annoying lovesick boy who missed his girlfriend; either way it didn't matter to you because it meant that today you were able to see your boyfriend.

You heard your name being called and turned your head, looking in the opposite direction of where you were heading. You smiled when you saw Jeff walking towards you, arms open for a hug. "Hey you," he smiled, wrapping his arms around you. "How was your flight?"

"It was... different," you replied, looking up at Jeff. "I don’t remember the last time I had a flight on my own and today has just been weird, you know? Not really what I'm used to for Gareth's birthday... and I missed his phone call because he called me as I was walking out the door of the house and I just hope he's not mad at me." You sighed, taking a step back from Jeff.

"Oh, he won't be able to stay mad when he sees you in his hotel room. Which reminds me, we should go. You know how Gareth is, he cannot stay in one place for too long. Eddie and Grant promised they would keep him as busy as they could but, something tells me he's ready to be back in his hotel room thinking about you all alone." Jeff teased, grabbing your bag from you. You rolled your eyes and smiled, playfully hitting Jeff on the arm as you followed him out of the airport and to the taxi he had waiting for you both.

"So, how has the tour been?" You asked Jeff as you turned towards him in the backseat of the taxi. He looked at you and smiled, shrugging his shoulders.

"It's been fun, it's also been different because I feel like we are just going nonstop; I’m tired.” He admitted, “but, it’s definitely been a lot of fun.”

"Well, I hope you know that everyone back home is so proud of you guys and we all miss you like crazy," you smiled softly.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, looking at you. "You're just trying to butter me up because you want to see your boyfriend."

You gasped, placing a hand on your heart. "Come on, now. A girl can't compliment her friends?" Jeff laughed, shaking his head.

"No, she can. But, we both know as soon as you and Gareth see each other that the rest of us won't see you for the remainder of the night. You’ll be in each other's arms until tomorrow morning." He winked, smirking slightly. You blushed, trying to come up with an argument but you couldn't; Jeff was definitely right.

It had been far too long since you and Gareth had last seen each other in person. The phone calls while he was away on tour only did so much; you just longed to be back in the arms of your boyfriend for at least a night. Sleeping next to him, smelling his cologne, feeling his arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer to his body subconsciously in the middle of the night, listening to his little snores that escaped his body through the night. 

Seeing Gareth would make everything feel right again, at least, for a little bit.

So, when you finally made it to his hotel room, you set your stuff down and looked around. Yeah, this was definitely Gareth's room. There were clothes everywhere, pairs of his Converse and Vans were thrown about next to his suitcase on the floor, the little pink stuffed teddy bear you and him made together at the store in Hawkins sat on the bed perfectly. You smiled to yourself, tidying up his room slightly.

“Yes, I know,” you heard Gareth say through the door of his hotel room, you looked to the door and giggled to yourself, looking for a place to hide. You found the tiny closet and hid inside, closing the door slightly. “Thanks, guys,” Gareth added, opening the door of his hotel room. He walked inside and closed the door behind him, locking it quickly.

Gareth walked into his room, setting a box down on the little table in the corner before he sat on his bed, running his hand through his fluffy hair. “Happy birthday to me,” he mumbled to himself, lying back on his bed. You peeked your head out of the closet door, watching him as he closed his eyes, resting his hands on his head.

You slowly tiptoed out of the closet, quietly moving towards the bed where your boyfriend was lying. You sat on the bed carefully, lying back next to Gareth. He felt the bed dip, turning to look at you with a raised eyebrow. When he saw you his eyes widened and a smile appeared on his face. He rolled towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you towards his body. Gareth held you close to him, burying his head into your neck gently, “I missed you, princess,” he mumbled against your neck.

“I missed you too,” you hummed. “And, happy birthday, Gare,” you said softly, smiling as you kissed the top of his head gently and ran your fingers through his fluffy hair. He pulled away slightly and rested his head on your chest, smiling up at you like an idiot.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked, his fingers gently running up and down your side lazily. 

“What am I doing here?” You repeated, smiling at him as you pushed his soft hair out of his face. “It’s your birthday, why wouldn’t I be here?” You asked, kissing his forehead gently. 

“Well, yeah, but; okay, how did you get here?” He asked, closing his eyes at the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. 

“Jeff picked me up from the airport while Eddie and Grant were with you.” You smiled, looking at him. 

“Well, I’m really glad you’re here,” he said, moving his head closer to yours. “I thought maybe you forgot my birthday.” He admitted softly, looking at you. 

“I could never forget your birthday, babe,” you replied, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips. “Never,” you mumbled against his lips. He smiled into the kiss, his left hand moving up your body before stopping at your face. Gareth held your face softly, rubbing his thumb over your cheek as he deepened the kiss slightly. 

You smiled into the kiss, your right hand moving to the back of his head, your fingers tangling through his locks gently. You tugged on his hair slightly, a small groan escaping his lips. “God, I missed you,” he sighed, pulling away from the kiss. He kissed down your jaw, leaving soft and sloppy kisses on your neck. He made it to the spot on your neck that always drove you crazy and nibbled on it gently. 

You moaned softly, closing your eyes as he continued to kiss up and down your neck. “Fuck, Gareth, I missed you too.” You said softly, fingers continuing to tug on his hair. 

“I missed you so much,” he mumbled through kisses. Gareth played with the hem of your shirt before he tugged it up, pulling it over your body. He trailed kisses down your collarbones and over your chest, mumbling along the way. “I missed seeing you,” he said as he kissed across your chest. “I missed holding you,” he added, kissing down your stomach. “I missed making you feel so good and hearing you moan my name,” he muttered, kissing further and further down your stomach. He stopped at the waistband of your jeans and looked up at you, a small smirk on his face as you squirmed underneath him. 

“Gareth,” you moaned softly, looking down at him.

“Just like that, baby girl,” he said with a small cocky grin as he undid your jeans, sliding them down your legs gently. He pulled your lace panties down next, placing soft and lingering kisses up and down your thighs as he spread your legs open wide for him. 

He kissed up your thighs and across your lower stomach before leaving soft and sweet kisses on your clit gently. You moaned, your fingers moving through his hair again as he looked up at you with a smile. 

Gareth moved his arms under your thighs, pulling you closer to him before he licked a small stripe up your folds. He groaned as he tasted you, mumbling to himself. “God, baby girl, you always taste so good, missed being able to taste you.” You blushed at his words, moaning as you watched your boyfriend go back to licking up and down your folds. 

“Gareth,” you sighed softly, watching him. He hummed against you, moving to leave more kisses on your clit. He kissed it softly and sucked on it, baby blue eyes watching you as he moved his fingers to your core. He swiped up some of your slick and teased your entrance before pushing his pointer and middle finger into you slowly. You gasped at the feeling, falling back onto the bed as your fingers tightened their grip on his soft locks. 

He groaned against your clit, pumping his fingers into you slowly. “Yes, baby girl?” He asked, looking up at you.

“Feels good,” you mumbled, eyes closed as he continued to pump his fingers, curling them slightly. “Missed you, fuck, I can’t make myself feel good like you make me feel good,” you sighed, grinding against his fingers. 

“Aw, baby,” he muttered, picking up the pace with his fingers. “You flatter me,” he added, sucking softly on your clit again. You moaned louder, the grip on his hair so tight that he groaned against you. He curled his fingers again, pumping them at a faster pace as he watched you come apart above him. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, “ah, Gareth, gonna cum,” you warned, grinding against his fingers more. He moaned softly, curling his fingers again. 

“Come on, beautiful, cum for me,” he said, “let the boys and everyone else in this hotel know who makes you feel so good.” 

You moaned his name loudly, grinding against him as you clenched around his fingers releasing all over them. You loosened your grip on his hair as you fell back against the bed, breathing harder.

“Fuck, baby girl, I missed hearing you,” Gareth said softly, removing his fingers from your core. He looked up at you and winked, sucking your juices off of his fingers. “God, I missed tasting you too,” he sighed, trailing kisses up your body before he placed a soft kiss on your lips.

You groaned when you tasted yourself on his lips and moved to tug his shirt off. He pulled back from the kiss and removed his shirt before unbuttoning his jeans, sliding both them and his boxers off in one quick movement. 

Before long he was crawling back on top of you, placing another kiss on your lips. The tip of his cock teased your entrance, slotting through your folds before he slowly pushed himself inside of you. You moaned into the kiss, moving your arms around his neck as you deepened the kiss. 

“Gareth,” you moaned, looking up at him. He smiled at you as he pushed inside of you fully, staying still for a second. 

“Hi,” he said softly, leaving kisses on your neck gently. You giggled at him and moved your head to the side, allowing him more access to your neck. 

“You’re a dork,” you replied, playing with the hair at the base of his neck. 

“Mhm,” he hummed against your neck as he started to slowly thrust in and out of you. “But I’m your dork,” he replied, nipping at your neck gently. 

“Yeah,” you gasped, feeling him move slowly. “Unfortunately,” you teased, running your fingers through his hair. 

“Hey,” he pouted, pulling away from your neck. You giggled at his pout, leaning up to kiss it gently. 

“Sorry, you know how much I love you,” you mumbled as Gareth continued to rock his hips slowly, thrusting as slow and deep as he could. “You’re such an amazing boyfriend, and I love you so much,” you said, looking up at him. You moaned softly at his movements before continuing, “and, I missed you so much. I’m so happy for you and I’m so glad you’re doing what you love but it’s so lonely at home,” you added. 

“I know, baby girl,” he said softly, kissing your lips again as he thrusted deeply, staying there for a second. “I missed you too, there were countless times where I just wanted to hop on a plane and come home, you know? Say fuck the tour and come fuck you instead.” He groaned, kissing you again as he started thrusting more. 

“Mhm,” you hummed in acknowledgment as he continued thrusting. “But, baby, this is your dream,” you said softly, looking up at him. “You’ve always dreamed of touring the country, sharing your music with your friends.” 

He nodded, moaning softly. “You’re right, it is. But you’re also my dream.” 

“That’s sweet and all but.. elaborate?” You asked, leaving some kisses on his neck. 

“We’ve been together for as long as I can remember,” he started, thrusting a little faster now. “And, I just, I don’t know. I want to settle down with you at some point; you know.. get married, have a family, live a perfectly happy life together. And, if I’m on tour with the guys I just feel like I can’t do that.” He sighed, looking at you with a small frown.

“Oh, baby,” you said softly, pulling away from his neck. You looked up at him, kissing his lips lovingly. “Don’t worry about that; you know how much I love you. I want you to chase your dreams and be happy. I’ll always be right beside you cheering you on the entire time. Plus, we’re still so young; maybe we enjoy our lives for a bit before we try to throw some kids in the mix,” you suggested softly. 

“Aw, come on, you don’t want to be pregnant with my kids?” He chuckled, thrusting more. 

“Maybe someday, just not.. today,” you replied, looking up at him. 

He grunted, picking up the pace of his thrusts. “Mhm, so then, where am I cumming?” He asked, leaving kisses on your neck and chest again. 

You groaned, closing your eyes. “Fuck it, inside. It’s your birthday, after all,” you giggled softly. He moaned against your neck, his thrusts becoming sloppy.

“Are you sure?” He asked, looking at you. You nodded, biting your lip to suppress a moan. 

“Yeah, please,” you sighed, closing your eyes. Gareth moaned loudly, thrusting deep inside of you as he came, ropes of his cum coating your walls. You groaned at the feeling, clenching around him as you released around him yet again. His thrusts turned slow and sloppy, riding out of both your highs before he collapsed on top of you with a huff.

“Fuck,” he groaned, nuzzling his head into your neck as he stayed buried deep inside of you. “God, you’re perfect, I love you so fucking much. I missed you..” he sighed, wrapping his arms around your body gently.

“Mhm,” you giggled as his hair tickled your neck. “I love you too, and I missed you too. Happy birthday,” you smiled, playing with his hair gently.

“Best birthday sex ever,” he admitted, looking up at you. “Want some cake?” He asked, grinning up at you.

“Cake?” You asked, looking at him.

“Mhm,” he nodded, slowly pulling out of you with a sigh before he stood up. “I was really bummed I wasn't going to see you today but I was extremely bummed I was going to miss out on your homemade red velvet cake,” he explained as he walked towards the bathroom to clean himself up. He returned seconds later with a washcloth to help clean you up as well. “So, Eddie and Grant took me to this bakery that is supposed to be really good, but I'm not sure if anything can beat your cake, princess.” 

After cleaning you up Gareth handed you your panties and his shirt before he slid his boxers back on. You quickly got dressed and followed after him, pulling out a few small candles and some matches from your bag. “A birthday cake needs some candles,” you smiled, placing the candles in the cake.

“Where did you get the candles?” He asked, looking at you.

“Jeff gave them to me,” you replied as you lit the candles carefully. You looked at Gareth and smiled as you wrapped your arms around him. “Make a wish, Gare,” you said softly, kissing his cheek.

“Oh, believe me, my wish already came true with you, baby.” He replied, kissing your head before he looked at the cake and blew the candles out.

gareth tag list: wanna be added? comment + let me know! @keeryhours ; @darkyuffie-blog ; @luveediary ; @the-witty-pen-name ; @bastardstevie ; @pupwrites ; @swiftieintheupsidedown ; @hawkinsmafia