#Drew doesn’t need the neck pillow for comfort

[mittysins]

What happens when the old abandoned android you found and decided to restore happens to have a mind of their own?

Teach them all they want to learn about being human, obviously. While also giving them some sweet upgrades!

Meda doesn’t know who made Drew, but he DOES know that Drew is incredibly unique. They have little recovered memory of their life before their shutdown, and they aren’t quite sure what their purpose is, but Meda told them that not everything needs a purpose. Some things can just be.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I love your writing btw! I’ve been perusing it for awhile haha- can we get cuddle headcanons for how the hoyo boyo’s cuddle? (Sunday, Argenti, Ratio, and Gallagher please? And any other ones you’d like!)

Sunday: possessive cuddles.

Probably watches over you in your sleep like a creep.

He will not let you go as you are kept caged to his chest within a firm hold as he slept peacefully.

Even as he slept, Sunday didn’t like you being far away from him and prefers to keep you close to him as humanly possible.

He’ll want you to rest your tired head against his chest and coddle you in his arms all the while pressing kisses into your head and upon your face as his wings fluttered softly, bathing your face with a gentle breeze.

His little wings only fluttered when he was feeling strong emotions such as love, anger, betrayal and happiness for instance. So needless to say you constantly felt his wings flutter softly in your face but you weren’t going to complain for such as cute display. That and the fact that his little wing flutters were great for when the nights got warmer, and when you didn’t want to cuddle up to Sunday as much.

Not like he’d let you, seeing as how he can’t stand you being a mere three inches away from him. He sleeps a lot better knowing that you’re by his side and the soft fluttering of his wings made you more than aware of that.

His preferred cuddling position is: chest rest

Argenti: this man needs to hold you against him as though he were trying to fuse your souls together. He won’t assume any other position that didn’t have you pressed against one another, or touching in some way shape or form.

He’d even press his forehead against your own while pulling you to his chest as his hands drew patters into your side and interlocking your legs either one another.

He craves the feel of your warm skin like no other.

He can’t sleep without your touch at all as he feels as though half of his soul was somewhere he couldn’t be.

He’s being dramatic, you’re literally in the same bed with the smallest amount of space between the two of you.

The downside of cuddling Argenti is that sometimes you’d wake up with a face full of his ruby red hair that oddly smelt of fresh roses. But other than that cuddling with Argenti was soft, warm, comforting and it made you feel safe being in the arms of your charming knight.

His preferred cuddling position would probably be the honeymoon hug.

Gallagher:

Clingy/playful.

This man is hugging you as though you were his personal pillow/plushie.

You weren’t complaining though as the man runs warm like a furnace and you got to have your face smothered into his tits. You were in heaven.

Will personally get offended when you try to move away from him.

‘Stop trying to escape will you? Unless you’ve got to piss, then I’m going to assume you don’t want to cuddle me anymore.’ He’d say groggily as he burrows his face into your neck, playfully biting it as you tried to swat him away.

He may even try to tickle you because he’s bored or can’t sleep, when in reality he just wants to hear you laugh one last time before falling asleep for real. He loves getting to be playful and affectionate with you when your both trying to find sleep. The moments shared during them were real, authentic and something to treasure for the future.

These moments were proven more precious to Gallagher when his dog then joins in on all the fun and slept at the foot of the bed.

His preferred cuddling position would be: leg cradle.

Ratio:

Average at cuddling unless he’s deep in his sleep.

Ratio looks like someone who doesn’t like the feeling of another person pressed up against him in fear of contracting their stupidity like a disease. 💀

The best he’ll do is touch pinkies and or have your backs pressed against one another. That’s it.

However when he’s deep in his sleep, he’ll be the big spoon and cuddle himself into your neck as his arms clutched at your waist firmly. It was cute and sweet in it’s own way, but it be best not to admit this to Ratio when he’s awake as he’ll try to prove why you’re wrong.

He’s secretly a cuddle bug but is too prideful to admit to it, obviously.

He’s a touch staved man who denies all allegations the fact that he’s touch starved and craves your touch to an extent where he feels it borderlines embarrassment. So as a result of his prideful ways, he’s left to yearn for something he couldn’t not and would not bring himself to speak up upon.

Veritas only finds comfort in seeking your touch when your fast asleep and cuddles himself into you back under the guise of being asleep, it was bound to work and work it did.

His preferred cuddling positioning would be: back to back/ spooning.

[causeilikelix]

new to the blog but abt those felix throughts 😍😍 felix whos so tired of the members calling him innocent and babying him. yea its nice from time to time but hes a grown man ! so he goes 100% hard dom on you just so your moans can be heard in the dorm 🫣 also he would totally cover you in bite marks and hickeys just so he can get his point across to his group 💕

now THAT's what I'm taking about skhsfdlkfjsdlkfj

Like we all know that Felix is a lil guy with too much love in his body but soft =/= sub. He's a man very comfortable in his identity and the power he holds over you. Felix just wants to make his baby feel good but he also wants to prove a point...

Smut and warnings below the cut. MINORS DNI!!!!!!

↳  Words - 2.7k (and some change)

↳Warnings: SMUT duh, Soft!Dom Felix (I'm still getting used to writing Hard!Dom anyone) and a tough of Hard!Dom Lix at the end, afab!reader, relatively vanilla, fingering (f receiving), P in V, unprotected sex (don't), multiple orgasms, exhibitionism?, hickeys

You loved his innocent vibe!  You really did!  His angelic smile and his sweet words and actions is what drew you to him in the first place.  He was nothing but romantic and sweet all the time.  The best communicator, respectful of your boundaries, always treated you like a princess.  Honestly everyone needs their own personal Felix!!

But he’s tired.  He can’t help it.  All of his friends baby him so much!  Like Changbin said himself, Felix is happiness personified!  But enough is enough.  His sweet exterior is giving him a reputation he doesn’t want.  When his friends talk about their sex lives, they always make these jokes that Felix must be a little pillow prince who takes what he’s given and lets his partner take the lead.  In fact, his friends bet, he’s as innocent as can be and maybe you and him don’t even have sex at all!

He’s still grumbly about it when you get to the dorm one night, just to spend a little time together in between schedules.  He greets you with his normal warm hug and a sweet peck but you can sense something is off.  

Initially you stay in the living room to continue watching the movie the other guys are watching.  It’s some action film you couldn’t give two shits about.  Your legs are swung over Felix’s lap and he’s gently massaging your calves and thighs while he stares at the screen.  You can hear a few of the other guys snickering but you can’t make out what they’re saying.  When you glance at Felix, his eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw is set.  Honestly it’s kind of hot and makes heat pool between your legs.  Let’s be honest though…. It’s Felix.  Almost everything he does can get you wet.

The boys laugh again and you note that it’s during a not particularly funny part of the movie.  This is where Felix breaks.  He pushes your legs off him and grabs your hand.

“Come on, babe, this isn’t very interesting.  Let’s go to my room.”  Felix whispered to you, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. 

Your body immediately went hot and you had a feeling you knew what was on his mind.  He dragged you to his room and tossed the door shut behind him. 

His hands were cupping your face and pulling you into a deep kiss before the latch had fully closed.  You could simply melt into his kisses.  They always were deep and full of every ounce of love in his body.  Tonight, however, his lips were urgent and demanding. 

“I need you baby, please.”  He whispered against your mouth.  The need to show his friends that he wasn’t a little boy anymore coursed through him, but he would stop if you gave the word.

“Lix, I need you too.”  You managed out between kisses, “But what about the guys?  They’re right outside and-”

“Remember what we talked about last month?”  Felix kissed down your neck and pushed you back towards the bed. 

How could you forget?  Most of the time you and Felix had sex it was very mutual.  You didn’t do a whole lot of powerplay.  Maybe a sprinkling here and there when the situation was right, but Felix loved it when sex was a mutual expression of love.  A few weeks ago he asked you about exploring power play a little more and maybe experimenting with some kinks.  One of them was being listened to.  Not necessarily the real thing, but pretending like someone could walk in on you at any moment. 

With the boys right down the hall, that one held more risk than normal. 

“You wanna try it?”  You asked.  The back of your knees caught on the edge of the bed and you sat down.  Felix weaved his fingers through your hair and bent down to kiss you.  You parted your knees instinctively and Felix settled between them. 

With him above you like this, you felt small under him.  The thrill it gave you made your heart speed up.  You gripped his slim waist to pull him closer. 

“I want them to hear you while I fuck you dumb,” Felix’s voice dropped and octave.  It sent a shiver down your spine.  You always loved it when he got like this.  When he got too horny, his voice dropped and it made you wet in an instant.

Felix’s hands made quick work of your clothes.  He wasted no time in getting you naked, leaving your top and jeans in a pile on the floor.  Even though you hadn’t expected to have sex on this visit, you still wore one of your cuter underwear sets.   Baby pink with a little bit of lace at the top of the cups of the bra and the top of the panties, made even more innocent by a tiny rose in the center of both pieces. 

Felix swallowed thickly at the sight.  

“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”  Felix whispered.  He maneuvered you onto the bed and hovered over you.  You clawed at his shirt, urging him to take it off.  He smirked and tugged it off.  “Just say the word and I’ll stop, okay?  Until then you're going to let me do whatever I want with you, right baby?”

“Yes, baby.”  You nodded in understanding.

You groaned at the sight of his chiseled chest.  Those gorgeous, defined ab muscles and his perfect little pink nipples made your mouth water.  Everything about him was beautiful from his head to his toes.  Not to mention his cock.  Speaking of, you wanted to see it immediately.  You tried to reach for his pants but he grabbed your wrists and shoved you back against the bed. 

“No touching without permission, got it baby?”  He cooed, “I wouldn’t want to have to punish you.  I bet you’re already wet, aren’t you?  It doesn’t take much to get my baby worked up.”

Felix slipped his hand into your underwear and seemed unfazed by the amount of slick in your panties.  To be honest, you thought that there should have been more.  The sudden show of power had your cunt gushing and clenching around nothing and you needed him inside you, um, yesterday. 

“Felix, please!”  You cried, pushing your hips up into his hand.  His digits rubbed small, slow circles on your clit.  Just enough to feel good but not enough to actually get anywhere. 

“What do you want, baby?  Good girls use their words.”  Felix chided, his fingers slipping lower to tap against your entrance but not going in. 

“I want you to touch me!  Please!”  You kept your voice quiet so that no one outside the door could hear you, but that wasn’t what Felix wanted. 

“You want me to touch you?  Alright, baby, I’m feeling nice today.”  Felix kept his eyes on your face as he slipped two of his fingers into your tight hole with basically no resistance.  He watched as your face screwed up in pleasure and your lips parted in a silent moan.  “Come on you can do better than that.”

With that, Felix pumped his fingers into you.  Quick thrusts wouldn’t get him where he wanted to go so he opted for long, deep strokes that pressed the pads of his fingers onto that special spot he’d found a few weeks ago.  The ball of his hand pressed deliciously against your clit with every thrust.  You swallowed a moan and turned your head to press your face into your arm to help silence yourself. 

At this, Felix threw three quick thrusts of his fingers into you.

“Uh uh,” he chided, “I want to hear those beautiful noises of yours, baby.  Let me know how good I’m making you feel, yeah?”

He pressed a few more deep and precise thrusts into you and this time you complied with a long, drawn out moan.  Felix grinned.  He continued like this for a few minutes, pressing his fingers in as deep as possible.  He resorted to pressing his hand against your clit and his fingers massaging that spot within you. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight.  You’re drenching my fingers already.  I can’t wait until you cream my cock, baby.  Keep moaning, just like that.”

He has you clenching and cumming on his fingers in seconds.  It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he gets your thighs shaking.  You’re moaning so loudly that you’re certain that the others can hear you.  Felix smiles through the whole thing.  His eyes are dark as he watches you cum just from his fingers. 

“Good girl, there it is.  Let’s see if you can take my cock, yeah?”

“Please.”  You moan loudly. 

Felix pulls his fingers out of you and you whine at the loss.  He pulls your panties down your legs and tosses them somewhere in the room.  Next he strips from the rest of his clothes and his cock slaps against his stomach.  Precum pearled at his tip and your mouth watered.  You longed to take him in your mouth and suck him until he came but he had other plans.

“Hands and knees.  Now.”  Felix demands.  He pumps his cock a few times to make sure he’s hard enough.  How could he not be, though, as he watches you climb onto your hands and knees and present your ass and your glistening hole to him.  He leans over you and brushes his cock along your swollen folds.  “Good girl.  God, you have the most perfect ass…”  Felix palmed it appreciatively before pulling his hand back and landing a firm slap on the flesh.

“Fellix!”  you gasped when he landed a second slap.  

“That’s right, baby, remember who’s name you’re screaming when I make you cum.”  Felix’s deep voice rumbles. 

He lined up his tip at your entrance and rubbed it through your folds a few times, reveling in the way he could make you shiver every time his cock grazed your over-sensitive clit.  When you least expected it, Felix pushed his cock into your tight, warm cunt.  You both moaned out in unison when he bottomed out.  His long, thick cock filled you up perfectly.  It was as if your pussy was designed for him.  Felix swore that he could spend the rest of his life between your legs.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you, darling?”

With that, he began thrusting.  Sometimes adjusting to someone’s cock in you is a thing of myth.  You can never get used to how perfectly he fills you up.  It may not be the longest, but it’s thick and it stretches you more than anything or anyone else ever has.  His cock has a perfect little curve to it that hits that little spot inside you whenever he angles his hips just right. 

Tonight, he’s determined to get all of the sounds out of you that he can.  So every single thrust is designed to do just that.  He shoves himself into your snug heat as deep as he can go every single time.  It’s like you can feel him in your throat.  Every thrust pushes his hips flush with your ass.  He takes a hand and presses on your back to push your chest onto the bed.  

“Fuuuuuck baby, you feel so good.”  Felix moaned, “Always so warm and tight for me, baby.”

“You feel so good inside of me,”  You moan back, struggling to get your words out between Felix’s rough thrusts, “Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

“Come on, moan for me baby, show them how good I make you feel.”

As if you had a choice.  His thrusts were hard and he shifted his hips until his tip speared into that spot over and over again.  Felix had found that spot by chance a few weeks ago when he was fingering you and now he made it a point to seek it out every time.  

Felix’s hand curled around your bodies and his fingers made contact with your clit immediately.  At this, you keened and let out the loudest moan of the night.  Your cunt clamped onto Felix’s cock and he bit his lip to keep from cumming right there.  Your tight, wet heat eas driving him crazy but you had to cum first.  

He could have sworn that the TV volume lowered.

“Come on baby, cum for me.”  Felix grunted, his finger swirling around your swollen clit.

Your walls clenched and fluttered around him.  Something in your belly pulled taut and you rocked yourself back on Felix’s cock.  The extra bit of friction made the coil pull tight.  You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to let your body relax so that Felix could take over and bring you to orgasm.  Your moans grew louder and louder as you got closer.

“Yes, yes, yes!”  You cried, “Fuck, Felix!  Right there!”

“That’s a good girl, cream my cock, baby.”  

The sound of the TV in the front room had stopped all together.

The extra pressure of you pushing back onto his cock was just the right thing.  The intense pressure in your stomach suddenly released all at once.  Your legs trembled and your body shook.  Felix took over and gripped your hips tightly.  He slowly guided your hips down towards the bed so you were laying flat, continuing his intense thrusts into your cunt.  He leaned over you and pressed his lips to the back of your neck. 

“Felix, don’t stop,”  you moaned, arching your back into him to keep his dick lodged inside you as deep as possible.  

Your orgasm washed over you in waves, each one resulting in a gush of wetness between your legs.  His hips kept drilling into you diligently.  He kissed along your shoulders and neck, sucking dark marks onto your skin.  The second you rolled over, he’d give you hickeys on your neck and breasts to match these.

When he sensed your orgasm coming to an end, he slowed his hips but kept his cock lodged within your tight walls.  He hadn’t come yet but he knew he had to give you a short break before he sought his own orgasm. 

“Was I loud enough?”  You giggled,  “What was that about?”

“The guys were making fun of me, saying things like… I couldn’t be a dom because I’m too innocent, that I’m just a pillow prince and I let you do all the work.”  Felix peppered soft kisses on your skin. 

“That’s not it at all baby!  We just like sex to be reciprocal, that’s all.”

“I know, but I guess I needed a little ego boost.”  Felix shrugged.

“Well if I get to come like that every time we need an ego boost, by all means,”  You giggled, rubbing your ass back into him and making his cock slide against your puffy walls, making you both gasp.  “I think you could stand to be a little meaner, though.”

“What?  You want me to be mean to you?”  Felix stared at you with large eyes.

“Maybe a little more.”

“Oh, so you want me to call you my own little personal slut?”  Felix whispered in your ear.  That tantalizing voice of his made your cunt clench on him.  “Oh so you would like that?  I should have known you’d be a little cock-hungry slut.  Can’t go a single day without my cock in you, is that it?”

“Mmhm…”  You nodded, eyes suddenly a little teary but in the best way.  You pushed your hips back against his again.  He groaned and pressed a hand to your hip to stop your movements.

“If you keep going like that I’m gonna treat you like a little cocksleeve, got it?  I’ll stuff you with enough cum to keep you full for weeks.  You want that, baby?”

“God, yes,” your eyes rolled back at the thought of feeling even fuller than you were now.

“Then relax, my pretty slut, we’re just getting started.”  Felix growled. 

His hand slipped under you to press lightly against your tummy, the pressure pushing your g-spot effortlessly against the tip of his cock.  He’d hardly have to aim at all like this.  You let out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a moan.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll fill you up ‘til your cute little cunt can’t handle it anymore.  M’ cum is all yours.”

[late-to-the-party-81]

Need you now

AN: Apologies again for the late posting today- computer wasn't playing ball. But I'm making up for it with some Alpha! Nomad Steve. I hope you enjoy.

I’m using dialogue prompts from this post by @nightprompts and they can be found emboldened in the text.

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Beta’d by @maladaptivexxdaydreaming

Dividers by @firefly-graphics, banners and covers by me.

Pairing: Alpha! Nomad Steve x Omega! Reader

CW: A/B/O, Biting, Knotting, Breeding Kink, Heats, Scenting, Smidge angst, Explicit Sexual Content

Word Count: 1.9k

You were warm. And the discomfort in your abdomen was growing.

You whimpered as you rifled through your bedside drawer for the phone you’d been given, only for use in emergencies. Turning it on and opening up the message app you typed in the number you knew by heart and sent off your one-word missive.

Now.

Shutting it down again, you tossed it back in its place. Then, grabbing hold of the too large, white tee out of your other drawer, you pulled it over your head, inhaling the scent that clung to it. You whimpered again and rubbed your thighs together, before settling back into your nest, drawing your blankets close and trying to get any sort of rest you could. Whatever the response to your text, the next few days were going to be hard on your body.

It was the suffocating, body suffusing heat that woke you. Your eyes shot open, but it only took a moment to realise that you weren’t feeling any of the lancing pain you expected. Discomfort still, yes, but no needle like darts, which meant…

You didn’t even need to inhale to know. He was here. You flipped over to your other side and buried your head in his chest, a reedy noise of primal need making its way out of your throat as you scented him.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay, baby. I’m here, I’m here. Gonna take care of you, real good, okay?”

His voice rumbled through his chest, deep and calming and you could feel the slick leaking out between your legs. You tilted your head back, eyes wide, to see his ocean blue ones staring back. His mouth was turned up into a soft smile under his beard, and you drew in a shuddering breath, only really realising in that moment how much you’d missed him.

“St-steve…” It was the only word your fuzzy brain was able to form before you were shifting up his body, climbing him like a tree, so you could press your lips to his, press your bodies together. You whined as you tasted him, rolling your hips and your sodden panties against his stomach. You were glad he’d discarded his tac suit before climbing into your nest, and even more happy that he hadn’t showered. 

You needed his scent. His sweat. His very essence.

You nipped and kissed and mewled at him, completely taken over by your base needs and desires. You were impatient too. Why wasn’t he in you already?

“Slow it down, baby. We got time. And I know it aches. I’ll soothe it soon, yeah. Just gotta get you ready for my knot. It’s big, remember? You’re heat makes you a little dumb, doesn’t it?”

You nodded into his neck, not really sure what you were agreeing too, just knowing that you wanted to please your alpha, agree with everything he said, so he would fuck you sooner. His large hands spanned your waist, pushing the fabric of the t-shirt up your body. His fingertips branded your skin, his touch making you feel even dizzier.

“Is that my shirt, Omega?” You nodded again. “You needed Alpha’s smell all over you, didn’t you? But I’m here now – let’s get that off you, huh?”

He eased the soft fabric over your head, and you let go of him to snatch it into your arms, twisting in his embrace to thread it into the wall of your nest, near your pillow, near where your head would be later when he…

You let out a pained cry as your arousal grew.

“Alpha, please!”

He eased you down to lie flat, a comforting smile still on his face.

“Alright, here we go, baby. Here we go.”

He pressed his mouth to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, where the small scar that proclaimed your bond lay. His hands swept up your waist to cup your breasts, and he massaged the flesh, rubbing his thumbs over your nipples. You squirmed as the pleasure flowed through you, and you tried to rid yourself of your panties, him of his briefs. His beard tickled your neck as he halted your desperate actions by moving down your body. His lips replaced his thumbs in turn, and you keened. If they were this sensitive already, what would they be like when you were swollen with his pups? The thought caused a fresh gush of slick to leave you, the sweet scent now taking over your room. Steve chuckled against you.

“Aww, poor, needy Omega.”

His rough fingers ripped your ruined panties from you, and you cried out in pleasure as he pushed two into your sodden core.

“Fuck, ‘mega. Sucking me in. Such a good girl for your Alpha.”

He pumped his fingers slowly. Too slowly for your liking, and you reached down to grab his wrist and roll your hips against his hand, but he batted them away.

“Let me do this, baby. I don’t want to hurt you. Remember what happened the first time?”

You didn’t really. All you did remember was the feeling of absolute fullness, of being stretched to your limit. There was a hazy recollection of not being able to walk properly the next day, but in your heat-addled state you didn’t care. If that were to happen again, it would be a problem for ‘future you’.

There was a tightness in your belly, and you felt Steve crook his fingers and stroke your insides, finding that special spot and…

Your orgasm ripped through you, and you clung to Steve’s bicep as he continued to fingerfuck you through it, sneakily adding in a third digit while you were in the throes of pleasure. You recovered your breath, but your ache was still there, unassuaged by the ecstasy Steve had brought you to with his fingers.

“Please…” Your plea was whispered. Pathetic. A request for clemency.

“Just give me another, Omega. One more for your Alpha, and then I’ll give you what you need.”

Steve dipped his head, suckling on your clit as his fingers continued their mission to stretch you out. Still reeling from your first orgasm, and with your heat raging through you, you felt the build up to your next one come quickly. His facial hair rubbed over your sensitive flesh, stinging you just right and your hands fisted in the sheets as you felt yourself ready to explode. Your legs trembled and your mate growled against your pussy.

“Cum, Omega. Cum for your Alpha. Now!”

Like a switch that had been flipped, you were unable to control yourself at his command. You came. Hard. Gushing over his hand and face. Soaking his beard with your sweet slick.

Your legs were like jelly, your whole body boneless, but you still mewled needily at him. He rose up from between your legs, wiping his hand over his beard and marvelling at the amount of wetness, before grinning as he moved over you.

“There you go.” With a shimmy he discarded his briefs and his erection sprang free, slapping against your stomach with its weight. “So perfect for me, baby. Even if you are all heat drunk and stupid. Let’s get you properly ready, huh?”

Steve flipped you over on your stomach easily, pulling your hips into the air so you could present for him properly. Your hips swayed, as though you were trying to fuck the air, and your Alpha chuckled and swatted your backside.

“You wanna be bred, baby? Want me to fill you with pups and make you all round and beautiful?”

It was a pitiful sound that left your mouth as you nodded into your blankets, your face pressed up against the t-shirt that Steve had taken off you earlier. His warm body curled over your back and his scent surrounded you, soothing you slightly, but his cock nudged between your legs, making you wiggle again.

“Okay, okay. I know, enough teasing. You ready, Omega?”

He didn’t wait for you to answer, he knew what your reply would be if you’d even been capable of speech.

You wailed as he breached you, his thick cock carving a space for itself inside your pussy and your hands clawed at the sheets, the sensations almost overwhelming you. Steve groaned when he bottomed out, taking a moment just to enjoy the feel of your wet heat surrounding him. But he didn’t leave you unsatisfied for long, knowing that you needed something that only he, as your Alpha, could provide. With one hand on your hip and another on your shoulder he started to fuck into you, hard. Each punishing thrust was just what you needed, scratching the itch inside you and making you cry out in joy. 

It didn’t take long for you to cum again, Steve’s cock stroking you even better than his fingers had. You were barely coherent when you shouted out to him, through the ripples of your orgasm.

“Alpha! Knot! Bite! Please!”

The hand on your shoulder moved to your other hip and Steve lowered to lie fully flat on the mattress, still fucking into you. His body pressed you down, pushing you deep into your nest, his mouth moving over your mating scar again.

“You’re going to cum with me, aren’t you Omega? I need your orgasm, so I can give you all my cum.” 

All you could manage was a series of punched out moans as you felt his knot start to swell, stretching the entrance of your pussy as his cock pistoned in and out of you. Your body was one raw nerve ending, it’s only purpose to feel pleasure. But you needed a little extra to cum again.

“Bite! Bite!” Your voice was muffled by the sheets, but Steve knew what you needed. You felt his teeth scrape over your scarred flesh, finding the right spot, and then he bit down.

Stars exploded behind your eyes and you screamed, your whole body spasming at the force of your orgasm. You felt Steve’s knot pop, locking the pair of you together, and then the warmth of his cum flooded you. You floated off into bliss.

You awoke. It had been four days since Steve had appeared. Four days in which he’d fucked you beyond reason, working your through your heat with orgasm after mind-blowing orgasm. But it had passed. You’d both known it last night, although neither of you had said anything. The sex had turned less frenetic; less fucking and more love-making. 

You didn’t want to open your eyes, because you knew what you would find when you did. He was a criminal on the run, hiding from multiple governments and international agencies, so as much as it pained the pair of you, you couldn’t be together, properly. 

Not yet.

You rolled over in your nest, the small space now feeling too big without Steve in it. Your hand reached out to brush over the space where he had lain and you bowed to the inevitable. You opened your eyes and lying there on the mattress was a black t-shirt. Steve’s t-shirt. He’d left you a fresh one, still imbued with his scent. You gathered it to you and breathed it in. It would have to sustain you until you could see him again. 

Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @ohsymphony @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @marvelstarker-mha98 @sheismarvelousworld

[stayandot8]

Pieces of Light

Genre: Fluff

Relationship type: established boyfriend/girlfriend

Important Contents: contains a letter that I wish I could read to him, gets very sappy, soz not soz

WC: 3.2k

masterlist

The sun was very rudely peering through the curtains and directly into my eyeballs. The other disturbance that woke me was the absence of my boyfriend's warmth against my back. I roused myself awake enough to turn my head to face the cold side of the bed in time to see Chan coming out of the bathroom, showered, dressed, and putting on shoes that indicated he was leaving me for the day. I waited until he saw that I was semi-awake to pull my arm out from under the blanket to reach for him. He chuckled and moved back to the bed and leaned down to kiss my face. 

“You’re so cute when you just wake up.” He whispered against my cheek, moving from my forehead and making his way down. I grumbled. 

“Then I must be downright adorable.” I couldn't help the smile as his lips attacked my face. I had to physically push him away. “You have work to do, sir. Bring me Wolfchan and be on your way.” He laughed as he brought the plushie to me and tucked it in beside me. He kissed me once more. 

“I shouldn’t be too long today. Just some finishing touches. I don’t know who all will be home. Enjoy your day off, baby.”

“I’ll enjoy it more when I’m sleeping again.” I closed my eyes and rolled to my side, facing the door. I could tell by the sigh he let out that he was still in the doorway. I peeped an eye open to see that I was right. I opened both eyes to glare at him as a giggle escaped my lips.

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” He closed the door behind him, leaving me to dream of him in peace.

***

The apartment was quiet when I finally dragged myself out of bed to satiate my grumbling stomach. I was eating my leftovers from the night before on the couch, watching something stupid when Hyunjin walked through the door. I craned my neck to see who it was and when I saw, I immediately noticed his demeanor was solemn, more so than when he was just tired. 

“Hey Jinnie.” He merely nodded in my direction before opening the fridge to grab a drink. He closed it, leaned against the door and took a long swig of the plastic bottle. His eyes were shut as he sighed deeply. “Is something wrong?” I questioned.

“There is but I don’t know what. I’m not hungry, I’m not sad, I don’t know what it is. I just feel off. I couldn’t get all the moves right at practice and my vocals were just off when I was trying to record. Han sent me home, told me to reset myself and we would try again tomorrow.” 

Hmm. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I chirped, racking my brain for my Jinnie survival guide. Offering help was one of the steps other than just leaving him be. 

“I may not know exactly what’s wrong but I know that the thought of being alone doesn’t sit right. Can I join you out here? I might need to just distract myself and not think about it too much.”

“Of course you can. Go change into something more comfortable, get out of your work clothes. We can find something for you when you get back.” He nodded and left the room, taking his bag off as he disappeared through the hall.

This wasn’t not like him, but this kind of off wasn’t like him at all. Most days it was one or the other. The more I thought about it, he did seem awfully tired lately. It seemed like he only slept for a few hours a night but I assumed it was normal. Seemed like the dancing weasel had just worked himself too much. Luckily I had a suggestion ready for when he came out. 

“Come sit in front of me.” I threw a pillow in between my legs on the floor in front of the couch where I wanted him. His brows drew together as he followed the pillow, the side eye he gave me equal evidence of his confusion. “Just trust me.” He sat as I brought my legs up to make room for him. I handed the remote to him. “If you can’t decide or don’t feel like deciding, I’ll do it for you.” He nodded again and flipped through the streaming services to find what piqued his interest. I waited until he was properly distracted to run my hands through his hair.

“Wha-” He sharply turned to me, squirming away from me. “Geez, give me a warning.” He scooted back as I laughed at his sharp reaction and positioned him back to where he was. I started running them again all around wherever I wanted across his scalp. I saw the tension in his shoulders relax the more I did, his head lolling back into my lap as his eyes closed. He stayed there a while, content. I watched the stress in the corners of his eyes smooth away. I thought he might fall asleep this way. 

“Jinnie, don’t fall asleep.” I warned him. 

“But you have magic hands, I can’t help it. How dare Channie-hyung keep them all to himself.” I lightly slapped his cheek as he finally let out a laugh. I shook my head in exasperation. I gathered some hair to his side and rolled his head to get better access. I started braiding as I gathered my will to break his relaxation. 

“Hyunjin.” I nudged him with my knee. This was my evil way of keeping him awake for the time being. 

“Hm?” His eyes remained closed. 

“You still have to pick a show.” He grumbled as he patted his hand around his immediate vicinity, trying to find the remote without opening his eyes.

“Too far…” He mumbled with a sigh as he settled back down into the pillow he was sitting on, a small smile appearing on his lips. 

“Oh whatever, you drama king.” I laughed along with him as I continued to run my hands through his hair until the front door opened again. 

“Hi Binnie.” My words were drowned out by the shouting that followed the closing door.

“Hyunjin-ah! Come with me to the gym. It’ll get you out of your funk.” Changbin throws his studio bag onto the kitchen counter. The disgust on Hyunjin’s face caused me to snort-laugh. Loudly. 

“I think I’ll pass.” Hyunjn grabs his drink off the table. “I’m going to go draw or something. Thanks for that.” He gives me a soft smile before he disappears down the hall to his room. My eyes follow him then landed on Changbin’s frown as his eyes did the same. His shoulders dropped as his pupils roamed until they landed on me. His smirk appeared shortly after as he tilted his head in question. It took me a moment before I understood what he was implying.

“No. There’s no way. There is no way you’re dragging me to that death trap of metal and sweat. No way.”

***

“You better be paying at least.” Changbin chuckled at my quick remark, setting down his last set of dumbbells and strolled to his water bottle in the corner of the gym. He was sweaty from his workout, the towel he wiped said perspiration on in the corner. The bench I was laying on had grown warm from my own body heat. I was there so that he didn’t have to come alone. He didn’t like going to the gym alone if he didn’t have to and when he saw me, he wasn’t going to give up. The final blow was the lunch I was promised when he was done. Which he said he would be a half hour ago. 

“I am. I promised, didn’t I?” His stroll over to my bench was more of a saunter, grabbing his phone to check his notifications. 

“Let’s go to that place Jeongin told me about last night. You can cook me some pork since I’m paying.” He peeked his eyes over his phone to giggle at me. I narrow my eyes at him in challenge. 

“In your dreams.”

“But I’ll burn the place down if I try to do it! Don’t you remember last time what happened when we went out with Chan-hyung? You almost caught on fire. I think it’s safer if you do it. For your own sanity.” That stupid smirk… I had to roll my eyes at him. My retort was interrupted on the way to my mouth as the gym door squeaked open. We both turned to who was pushing his blonde head in to find Felix, not looking surprised in the least to find Changbin in the gym. But when his eyes landed on me, his brows shot up in surprise then crinkled. 

“What on earth are you doing in here?” He said as he came into the room fully and shoved his hands into the pockets of his practice pants, his loose tshirt visibly damp from sweat. 

“I was dragged here under the promise of food but SOMEONE is taking too long with his workout so I might just leave without him.” I finally sit up properly, straightening my black Stray Kids hat on my head and glaring at the dark haired buff man wiping down his equipment. 

“Oh good! I was coming in here to see if Changbin wanted to eat but now we can all go together if you’re up for it.” Felix was impossible to say no to when he got excited about something, his eyes got big and his smile showed all of his perfectly white teeth. When he got really excited, he started bouncing on his toes in anticipation, his fluffy hair bouncing with him up and down. 

“I think that’s a wonderful idea. Let’s go.” I beamed at him, Changbin following close behind me.

“Yongbokie, you have to cook the food now!” He shouted in glee as the gym door closed behind him. My eye roll was audible. 

***

That restaurant didn’t know what hit them as our trio left, stomachs full and our chattering growing in volume by the minute. As we strolled back to the building, Felix made a stop in a product store nearby. 

“It’s Hyunjin’s birthday soon. He’s been saying that he wants this new hair product for a while. I’m just going to check if they have it for him.” And with that, he left me and Changbin outside on a bench nearby, the breeze brushing Changbin’s cologne in waves across my nostrils. 

“You know, your cologne smells really nice. I’ve been wanting to get one for Chan but I never know what kind of smells he likes.” I had been thinking about it a lot lately, what kind of gift I could get that he would actually use. He was showering me with anything I could possibly want or need and I was having trouble finding anything that I could get the man who wouldn’t buy anything nice for himself. I was starting at the top of my list, fishing out his members for what he could want. 

“I don’t know that he likes things like that. He’s always buying things for other people.” Changbin’s tone was light, but the words hit me harder than they should have.

“I know. That’s why I want to get him something nice just because. He’s always buying things for me and I always thank him but I want to get him something he wouldn’t buy for himself.”

“That’s pretty much anything. Maybe something practical? He needs a new headset for his home studio.”

“No, I don’t want to get him something for work. He spends too much time working anyways.” Changbin nodded aggressively in agreement before letting me continue. “He spoils me and everyone around him so much. I just want to get him something nice, something he would use. He does so much for me and I just want him to know that I appreciate him for it. I want to make him feel special like he does for me.” Looking at the trees around us, I didn’t notice the soft smile that slid across Changbin’s face as he watched me. When I turned back, I finally noticed it. “What?” A nervous giggle escaped me as his eyes saw right through to my thoughts. 

“I’m just glad he finally found someone who deserves him.” 

“He’s special. It’s my job to make sure he knows it.” The flush in my cheeks was hot from his stare, still not letting up. I had to force myself to look away from him. “How about a letter? I think he’ll like that, right?” A small giggle escaped his lips and his eyes wandered around the nature around us, not quite focused on what he was seeing. As if reliving a memory. 

“Yeah. I think he’d love that.”

Felix came strolling back up to us, bag in hand. “You guys ready?” We nodded, standing to return home, the air a little heavier than it was before we left. 

***

Finding a physical piece of paper and a pen was harder than I would’ve ever imagined in an apartment full of boys. But after pestering Hyunjin for a nice piece and one of his better pens, I finally sat down at Chan’s desk in his room. Staring at the blank paper, I couldn’t help but think of all of the memories of the past months with him. I zoned out on the blank sheet as floods of laughs, tears, late night cuddling sessions, and beautiful words filled my senses. How am I going to put all of this into words? I figure the best way to start was to just start writing, the words coming to me as soon as my pen touched down. I hadn’t realized how long I had been writing until I heard my favorite voice hit my ears.

“What are you doing over there so focused?” I whipped my head around to see him standing by the door with a big smile on his face. I couldn’t help the grin to match. 

“Just a little something for you, my love.” I said as I turned back to the paper to fold it up so he couldn’t see. The shuffle of his footsteps halted. I turned with raised brows to see him mid-step, staring at me dumbfounded. “What? What did I do?” It took him a second to speak, his gears still processing. 

“‘My Love’?” His chest was rising and falling quicker now, his eyes never leaving me. My pulse jumped. The smile replaced the one before was bigger, his affection palpable through his gaze. He ran to me to throw his arms around me, suffocating any doubt I ever had that he cared for me as much as he was capable. Smothering me in his lips, he kissed everywhere he could reach, his words being broken up only by his adorable attack. “That is.” He kissed my forehead. “The only thing.” My left cheek. “You are EVER.” My right cheek. “Allowed to call me.” My nose. “Ever.” He finally touched my own lips with his in a sweet kiss. His hands grasping my own head on either side, holding me and rubbing his thumbs on my cheeks. I could feel my own heart swell and threaten to suffocate my lungs with how much love radiated off of him. 

“Deal. Now I’m going to make myself some tea. Here.” I handed him the folded paper with my remaining confidence. “Read this while you’re waiting. I’ll be back.” I got up from his chair to do just that as he replaced my spot and opened the letter and started to read.

Chris, 

Growing up, I always idolized what love could be. From all of the greats, there was always something missing from their stories: a dose of reality. I always wanted an intellectual and interesting love like Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. Or full of Romeo’s devotion to Juliet. There will always be the Jacks and Roses of the world, love fast and all-consuming. I didn’t think a love as powerful as that had any chance of being real. My own skeptic mind was always telling me that real love had to be hard and full of its own challenges along the way. I never believed love could truly just be fun, light, and full of pure and simple fondness. Until you.

You have made me into a person that I never thought I could be. Someone who believes in love in its truest and most pure form because I see it with my own eyes. I see it in you. You are the purest form of love a person can have the pleasure in this life to experience.  Simply the joy of knowing you is in itself a form of love. You transform everyone you encounter. Your being encourages the other to raise themselves to be better. You are an authentic vessel of the universe’s care for the human soul. Even during your darkest days, your most horrific moments, there is still a light that cannot be ignored. You simply shine.

You have this way of making whoever has the privilege of being around you feel like they are the most special to you. It is a hard task to make people feel like physical sunshine inside and out. The butterflies you so freely give stay with them as if they were permanent attachments. Pieces of yourself, your light, find their way in and settle into whatever place they are needed most. 

You have made me your own in every possible way. Your eyes are full with silent declarations that have no need of verbalization. If eyes are the windows to the soul, then, my darling, I can think of no better view. You have fixed the most broken parts of me. Some I was aware of, most I was not. You came into my world when I needed you most and decided that it was a place you wanted to stay. For that, I will always be grateful. 

My soul is yours. Now and Always. 

I waited in the kitchen, too scared to see his real-time reaction happening right in front of me. My mug was half empty as I leaned against the counter. I heard the shuffling shortly after, my boyfriend appearing with eyes misty and unfocused. 

“Chris?” My voice seemed to cut through the voices in his head as he finally looked at me. I placed my cup back on the counter, still warm. He slowly crossed over to me, close enough that I could see the tears that had already been wiped away. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. 

“Do you mean it?” The hope in his eyes was enough to make me break into many pieces. 

“Every word.” He rested his forehead on mine, his breath mingling with my own as his eyes closed. 

“There’s no way I’m letting you go now.” He shook his head to further make his point. I smiled and breathed him in, this man that I was so truly in love with. 

“I sure hope not. You have completely ruined anyone else for me. You’re all I want or will ever need.” He sniffled and I brought him closer, letting my arms find their usual place around his waist. He wound his arms around my shoulders and held me close, repairing every last sharp edge that remained in me.

[rosewaterandivy]

Cee my darling dear💛 if it strikes your fancy how about dialogue prompt number 51 with Eddie? or if you'd prefer maybe a little info on the long ride home because that teaser fucked me up in the best way and I'd love to know more😊

My sweet, sweet Sylvie - anything for you! #51 with Eddie is in the works, but have a little Long Ride Home snippet in the meantime. 💜

If you have a request or thought you'd like the share, mosey on over here for my request weekend guidelines!

tagging @powderblueblood for cheering this on and in celebration of our shared brain cell; we're two halves of a whole idiot (affectionate)

warnings: grief, childhood memories, inability to cope

the long ride home m.list

“Why is he doing this?” Eddie huffs, rubbing his eyes in frustration to keep the welling tears at bay. “I don’t want any of this shit, I never asked for it.”

The plot of land, Mama’s wedding band, the fucking letters—

He sniffs and‌ pushes the papers away from him, leans back in the creaky old chair.

“That may be so, son,” Cal speaks up, “But it’s yours, regardless.”

Mamaw wanders over from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her worn apron. She ruffles Eddie’s hair, nails scoring lightly along his scalp.

“Won’t you give us a minute, Cal?”

The older man nods and rises from the table, stepping out on the porch to make himself scarce. She doesn’t sit across from Eddie, but drags a chair to his side and glides a soothing hand across his back in slow circles. He sighs heavily, cradling his face in his hands and wishes that Wayne was there.

“Why now?” He mumbles, “He’s dead, so what’s the point?” 

Mamaw tsks, for lack of a better thing to say, wraps one hand around him to draw Eddie near. “C’mere baby,” She prompts, voice low and soft, letting him slump against her. His head rests at the juncture of her shoulder and neck, safe and comforting, like the way she used to rock him to sleep during those summer storms.

The scent of her perfume permeates his nostrils— amber, rose, and bergamot, combining with a whiff of the rising biscuits in the oven. Her fingers card through the loose strands of his hair that escaped the topknot, she hums a familiar tune. And if Eddie closes his eyes, it’s almost like she’s there again.

He was far too old, in Al’s humble opinion, to be sleeping in his parent’s bed. But there was a wicked storm rolling through, battering the windows enough to make them shake, thunder booming overhead. She’d shushed her husband’s complaints and turned over the covers to let Eddie crawl in between them. Al acquiesced because he hated to deny Elizabeth anything, and he figured one night couldn’t hurt in the long run.

Settled against the pillows and snug between his parents, Eddie felt himself relax. Facing his mother, he could see her watching him a soft smile gracing her lips. Al gave Eddie’s arm a squeeze and turned over to go back to sleep, leaving the pair of them awake and listening to the lashing rain.

“Y’know baby, I never minded the rain.” Elizabeth whispered, fingers brushing his hair from his face, “Because after the rain, comes the sun.” Her hand fell to the nape of his neck and drew him close, she began to hum softly, soothing her son the way she always did.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray.

A few voices wafted through from the screen door, low-pitched and masculine. Eddie couldn’t be bothered to care, too wrapped up in a memory that was slipping through his fingers and figuring out what the fuck he was supposed to do. 

Mamaw continued her rocking and humming, not pushing him to say or do anything but simply be. 

True, Eddie didn’t want any of this shit or responsibility. Really, what was he going to do with a plot of land in Kentucky? And he didn’t need a father, especially one trying to make amends from beyond the grave.

The screen door creaks open followed by the soft tread of footsteps on the wooden floor. Another chair dragged to Eddie’s side, the scent of crisp pine swirling through the air, one he’d recognize anywhere. He can feel Mamaw nod, hear the faint whisper of something above his head.

Instinctively, he turns to find Wayne seated beside him, a little jet lagged but there all the same. The corner of his mouth kicks up in a half-smile, one big calloused hand cupping the nape of Eddie’s neck. “Hi darlin’,” He greets, “Sorry it took me so long.”

In the south, it’s a common occurrence to hear the old adage of: god willlin’, and the creek don’t rise. Sometimes it’s spoken after church service by little old ladies sending each other off, “Well, if I don’t see you before the good Lord calls me home…”

“God willin’ and the creek don’t rise!”

A sentiment meant to convey situations subject to uncommon but not unforeseeable events. Eddie had heard it his entire life, but never really caught its meaning until now. It was as if all his anger and useless frustration fled from him at the sight of his uncle. The tears he attempted to keep at bay cascaded down his face, hiccuping sobs as Wayne drew him to his chest.

Turns out, the creek did rise and broke the damn levy.

“It’s okay, Ed,” He says in that low drawl of his, “I’m here now.”

And it would be.

Because whatever Eddie may have lacked for growing up, it certainly wasn’t love, or a place to call home, or people who cared about him. Nor was it someone who could and actually wanted to stick around. He didn’t need a father-figure who only cared in half-measures, too lost in his own addiction and grief to do more than pass through Eddie’s life occasionally. 

Not when he already has a dad, not when he’s got Wayne.

[twst-drabbles]

Vil 10

Summary: Vil doesn’t want you to think he’s been changed beyond recognition, that he’s no longer the little siren you once knew. See, he’s still beautiful. See, he still sings for you. See, he can still touch you. He can…he swears he can.

(…Oh boy, warnings: Implied assault, needles, suffocating and just Vil not being as fine as he wants to be.)

Vil can see the bald patches of skin beneath his feathers.

On his neck, the back of it, hidden beneath his carefully tended to hair, he can feel the naked patches of skin standing out among his lush feathers. He sinks his fingers in those dips, rubbing, hoping to feel some prick on his skin, some needle growth of new feathers coming in but all he can feel is ugly, wrinkled skin.

Delicate skin. Skin that’s so easy to make bleed. Skin that rips off when an angry hand grabs his hair, forces his head at an awkward angle, and tears the feathers right off.

Isn’t he glad that this delicate skin was easy to hide. You don’t have to see them. Don’t have to speculate. And you most certainly don’t have to pity him.

Vil put his hair down, adjusting his clothes to make himself more presentable. He bent down and dipped his hands into the river, rubbing his fingertips on the smooth stones. Time has worn down their chips and edges, worn down everything would stick them out. They comfort him.

Vil let his hands memorize the feeling of cool water and smooth stones, rather than warmth and wrinkles.

Vil almost started to doze off against the tree when you had finally arrived to sit next to him. The breeze had carried wisteria petals onto his clothes and hair, but their placement only drew more attention to the prettier parts of him. It was suiting, helped him blend in more with his beautiful home. He didn’t feel as out of place.

But even so, he plucked them off anyway. The focus shouldn’t be on the plants but on Vil himself.

Vil wants you to look at him as he practices his dance. He wants you to admire his unchanging beauty as he lets a song flow from his lips.

Vil only wants you to see the perfect, undamaged parts of him.

Don’t ask if he’s okay, or if he needs to talk. He is fine. Nothing is different. Nothing has changed. Vil is still beautiful and that’s all you really need, isn’t it?

But even so, why do you refuse to touch him? Why do you keep your distance from him? Did you think him as something fragile? Or did you think him as something disgusting?

Oh, but you were always like this, weren’t you? You never went out of your way to force your touch onto others, even when everyone was smaller, cuter, more easily held. If you’re looking for permission, then Vil will give it. If you’re looking for him to initiate, then Vil will do so.

A parting hug. That was all it was supposed to be. A hug given to you after a performance that Vil dedicated to you.

You were stiff, stiffer than he was, when he wrapped his arms around your neck like he tried to do when he was smaller, when he laid a kiss on your cheek like he used to do when he was just the size of your hand. It was shocking, most likely, as you eventually relaxed enough to pat his arms.

But then your hands reached his back.

It was an accident, he was sure of it, for you would never do anything cruel on purpose, but memories don’t care for that, for your intentions. Your hands merely brushed against his hips and waist. The feathers, or what’s left of them, stood on end, they prickled and suddenly Vil felt fingers sink into the soft flesh beneath.

He felt nails dig into them, felt needles being jabbed and scraped against his bones just because, felt his lungs burn as a pillow was stuffed in face just to block any scream or curse he might make. And when Vil felt his hands go free…

Vil dug his claws into your shoulders and made you bleed.

“Shit!” a pain laced cuss pulled Vil right back in, then guilt sunk deep into his bones.

He backed away as you grabbed the long, bleeding gashes on your shoulders. Your jaw was clenched, but another curse slipped out anyway. And when you gazed at him, he could not find the anger that he so deserved aimed at him.

“Hey,” your voice was stiff, and yet… “sorry about that.”

Vil hates his body for locking up, hates his eyes for watering up.

“Please,” he sunk to the ground, “I don’t deserve it.”

[kirnet]

Don’t Wake the Ancients - Epilogue

read on ao3 | previous chapter |

-

The days dragged on in endless monotony.

At least Dorotea was starting to get used to being underground, as much as she could. The whole Agency seemed to buzz around outside her door, writing reports and drawing her blood and spreading rumors on how Murphy had been brought down. Elidor, thankfully, never let the brunt of it pass the threshold of her room. They talked a lot, the fae humoring her every question and thought as she tried to distract herself from all the pinching needles.

“What’s in this, exactly?” she asked one evening, Elidor rubbing some ointment on her wounds while he changed her bandages.

His hand glided over the myriad of burns and cuts on her arm. “A collection of things. Yarrow, mostly.” The balm was cool on her skin. “Echo-touched. We harvest it from around portal sites, which enhances its natural properties. A necessity, since I can’t use spellwork to speed up your recovery. Imbued with magic yet still non magical, yes?” He thought for a second, and then added morosely, “I imagine they are the closest thing in either world to you now.”

They sat in silence after that.

Rebecca visited often, and for once, Dorotea didn’t pick a fight over it. Not yet, not while her very flesh still wanted to slide off of her bones. Their conversations steered professional, Rebecca updating her on her station and the comings and goings of Unit Bravo. They didn’t talk about Murphy, locked in a cell floor below her, trapped in some waking nightmare, just like they didn’t talk about the mist in Rebecca’s eyes.

“The results from your blood test came back,” she said after a length of silence. Rebecca stood in the center of the hospital room, a healthy distance from anything to lean on. “We… In truth, we have nothing to compare it to. You are something entirely new. But our best guess is that you are now truly immune to any supernatural effects, not just resistant.”

Dorotea struggled to sit up in bed. The click of Rebecca’s heels echoed through the room as she rushed forward to adjust the pillows. “So I’m a vampire now? Or some sort of mix?” It was a stupid question, but Dorotea had rubbed her tongue raw against her teeth, constantly searching for any changes. 

“No, no. You are still plainly human. And that’s what frightens me.” Rebecca’s hand came to rest on her daughter’s shoulder, her gold wedding band gleaming under the harsh lights. She chewed on her lip as she considered her next words. “The Agency will do its best to keep your condition under wraps, but that doesn't mean that supernaturals won’t be able to scent you. The majority are benevolent, but a few…” Her expression darkened as her finger brushed the bandages on Dorotea’s neck. “I don’t need to tell you that. I’m scared about what might happen to you.”

“It’s…” Dorotea didn't know how to answer. Instinctively, she angled her shoulder away, allowing her mother’s hand to fall. She wasn’t going to comfort her, not when she didn't know how to comfort herself. The first reaction was to say that it was fine, that it would figure itself out, but it wouldn’t. It wasn’t fine. Not Murphy’s invasion or Rebecca’s lifetime of secrets. “I’ll just have to learn to deal with it,” she said instead, jaw set. “I don’t have a choice.”

Rebecca drew her hand back to fold her arms. “I suppose that brings me to our next issue.”

“Surprise!” The door banged open with so much force it was a miracle the wall didn’t crack. Dozens of balloons entered before Farah and dozens entered after. She tried to wrangle them to one side of the room, pulling out one that read “Congrats!” and dragging it to the front. Nate sheepishly followed, a box of chocolate covered strawberries securely in his hands.

“I don’t think she’s actually accepted it yet,” he sighed with a shake of his head. His expression brightened when he set the box on Dorotea’s lap and sat on the edge of the bed. “But we hope you will.”

“Accept what?” Dorotea asked, not so confused that she couldn’t pilfer a berry. Morgan and Adam entered, clearly not as pleased to be here.

Wrinkles well beyond Rebecca’s age formed on her face as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I was just about to get to that.” Farah backed into the cloud of balloons to hide from Rebecca’s glare. “The Council has come to a decision.” Something like a cough rattled around in her throat before she spoke again. “The Agency wants to extend you an offer for the role of Human Liaison.”

Dorotea leaned forward. Council? Since when has there been a council? She pushed that thought to the side and grasped one of the thousands of other questions swirling around in her mind. “Liaison? What exactly would that entail?”

“A middleman, essentially,” Nate clarified. “Wayhaven is awash in Echo World energy, this whole mountain range is, hence the need for an Agency outpost here. You would act as a mediator between the supernatural and human elements of your town.”

“Under Agency direction, of course.” Adam had found his usual spot in a corner. “Since you know of our existence we might as well make use of it, especially since you will need constant guard now.”

“I wanted them to offer you a position here, maybe in our science division, somewhere where you would be protected.” Rebecca shook her head before Dorotea could speak. “I know you would never accept it. You should feel honored that the Council sees such potential in you. It’s been some time since Wayhaven had a liaison of its own.”

“Do I get actual resources in this position? Actual power to push for what is best for the town?” Dorotea eyed Rebecca wearily. “Or is this just an attempt to placate me?”

She swore the sound that scraped against Adam’s lips was a laugh. “Is that even possible?”

Morgan popped her gum with disdain. “You’ll get use of agents, tools, research, anything you get clearance for. But you’ll be independent.” She gave her a peculiar look, though the meaning was clear as day. You’ll need to follow our lead, but you’re not owned by us.

Rebecca cleared her throat. “I’m sure this is overwhelming. We’ll give you time to consider-“

“I accept.”

A glimmer of pride shone in every vampire’s eye, even Adam’s, while Rebecca seemed to deflate. She quickly recovered, stoicism masking any minute emotion. “I’m not leaving my people defenseless, from outside threats or from you.”

“I see.” Rebecca clenched her jaw at the clear accusation. “I’ll inform the Council.” She strode out the room, Nate getting up to follow.

He dusted invisible lint from his pants. “She’s just trying to juggle her duties to the Agency and her duties to you. Perhaps there is no need to be so harsh.”

Dorotea was too tired for justifications or explanations. “Stay out of it,” she said tersely.

Nate frowned and slid from the room, Morgan on his heels. She gave Dorotea the slightest tilt of her chin before she disappeared into the hall.

“Congratulations, seriously.” Farah punched Dorotea in the shoulder. “But are you gonna make a habit of making things so awkward?”

“I’ve been told that I excel at it.” Dorotea smiled and half-wrapped her arm around Farah’s waist. “Thank you for all of this. It really livens up the place.”

Farah left, leaving only Adam. He approached the bed with slow, strong steps. “You will do well in your new role,” he said, looking at the wall. I have full confidence in that.”

“Thank you. For everything.” There was a beat of silence, Dorotea fiddling with the edge of a bandage and Adam remaining inhumanely still. “Though I’m sure you’re glad to be rid of me. Do you know who your replacements will be? You mentioned constant guarding.”

“There are no replacements,” he said, an edge to his voice. “Agent Langford requested a permanent transfer. We are to become Wayhaven’s resident unit.”

“Oh.” Really? These were supposed to be highly trained agents, not standard bodyguards. Surely their talents were much better suited somewhere that wasn’t sitting on her couch as she slept. Then again, that hadn’t worked the last time. It didn’t make her feel any safer. “I’m sorry.”

Adam’s gaze snapped to her. “What for?”

“You despise Wayhaven. I’m sorry for keeping you here.“ She shrugged. “I understand it can be hard to love, especially if you’re used to more grand places.” Dorotea had hardly ever set foot out of the state, never mind the country. Even her exotic choice of college had been located within the mountains. Wayhaven was too rural and plain for a man with Adam’s rich accent. 

“A place is just a place. Wayhaven is one of many.” In an all too-human gesture, Adam scratched the back of his neck, probably itching a stubborn patch of skin still blistering from the explosion. “My personal distaste has no effect on how I perform my duties.”

Dorotea lifted a bruised brow. “I don’t need a comment,” Adam grumbled, closing the gap. He stuck a hand out, his palm like smooth porcelain, unmarred by any of the toil of human life. “Shall we try this again?”

Trembling from pain and disuse, Dorotea stuck her bandaged, blistered hand out, slid it into Adam’s, and shook. 

-

Farah wasn’t the only one to surprise Dorotea with balloons.

After long weeks of healing where her ectoderm finally remained attached to her skin without reminding, she returned to the station. It wasn’t a total surprise, not with Tina around, but a few grateful tears pricked the corners of Dorotea’s eyes nonetheless. The largest miracle was that Tina had managed to whittle the guest list down to only a few handfuls that Dorotea could actually relax around. “I had to tell most people you’re due back next week,” she giggled, looping a party hat under Dorotea’s chin and placing it on top of her cattleman.

And she was thankful for it. The bandages had come off, leaving the two jagged scars that ran down her throat in full display. The official story was a car accident. Dorotea had caught Dr. Murphy - the real killer, the one who had planted any and all evidence incriminating Lance - with the help of Unit Bravo. She had followed the escort to the city to be processed by whatever government entity the town thought the Agency was. Her bravery was rewarded by a t-bone at an intersection, the other driver distracted by a text. She had barely gotten out alive, her neck sliced open by the shards of her window. No one asked for further detail, all just relieved that she was walking now. Some, like Verda’s husband, Eric, pretended not to eye her as she cut a slice from one of Hayley’s cakes.

They were ugly scars. She’d have to get used to the looks.

Beer bottles were opened and the food table was devoured. Even Captain Sung chimed in, resting a firm hand on her shoulder. “Good work,” he said, pride beaming from every word, before his expression shuttered close. He turned to Tina. “I want every piece of confetti cleaned up by noon tomorrow.” He took a plate to go.

Douglas and Tina filled her in on every coming and going of what had happened in her absence, Verda interjecting when the tales got too hyperbolic. A coal plant deep in the woods had exploded, they raved, kicking up a black toxic haze before it had been put out. This was treated with equal importance as David Arbuckle tripping and landing into yet another woman’s lap.

“Not having fun?” Dorotea asked when she finished her rounds.

Spots of whipped cream from the cake still flecked the corner of Lance’s mouth, rising as Dorotea pulled a chair over to sit beside him. “Nothing of the sort.”

“Really? ‘Cause usually you would have thrown Verda’s girls into every available soft surface by now.” For a giant, Lance knew how to hide. He had spent most of the party in Dorotea’s office, occasionally shuffling out only to grab more food or another beer. Dorotea leaned her elbows on her knees, groaning when every part of her body protested. “What’s wrong?”

Lance chewed on a piece of tri-tip for a long while, his glassy blue eyes fixed on the party just outside the door. “You don't wanna ask me that. Go enjoy your shindig.”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.” She caught Lance’s hand before he could bring the beer bottle to his mouth. “I am so, so sorry for ruining your reputation, Lance. I was fooled by that bastard like a God-damned idiot.” Dorotea curled her fingers around his as they watched Verda frantically wipe frosting from his youngest’s hands before she could reach for Tina’s desk. Just because he had been cleared didn’t mean that people wouldn’t talk and suspect. This would stain his character for the rest of his life.

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for. He was the one who tried to set me up, not you. You were just doing your job,” Lance rumbled, casually brushing her betrayal aside. He rolled his shoulders as his hollow gaze swept to her. “People will talk. It ain’t nothing I’m not used to.”

“What I did was wrong. I’m still sorry.”

He offered a weak smile. “And I appreciate that. More than you know.”

“I’m…” Lance hunched forward, and for a horrible moment Dorotea was down the hall, trapped in the closet they called an interrogation room, Lance melting right in front of her. He snapped back to himself, his toe tapping against the floor. “I’m having these dreams.”

Dorotea stilled as he continued. “Dreams about the woods, and you, and those agents.” He winced, a muscle feathering in his jaw like Adam had just shocked him with the stun gun again. “About that Greenland woman. Awful things.” Palms up, he looked down at his hands, his voice quivering. “Did I hurt her?”

It would be kindest to lie. Lance was as much of a victim as Kenny or Garret. Whatever terror Janet had felt as she thrashed against him, screaming into the night, her camera ripped from her shoulder, was not his fault.

But he had hurt her. And Dorotea had never been a liar. “You didn’t have a choice.”

Lance nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He didn’t ask how she could possibly know, nor what that meant. He wrapped his arms around Dorotea and buried his nose in her shoulder. “When did you get older than me, missy?”

Dorotea ignored the wet spots growing on her shirt collar and hugged him tighter. 

-

Lance wouldn’t let her go alone, not after she had been jumped by Kenny and was still recovering from her wounds, so Dorotea brought him to the graveyard with her. But she wanted privacy, so he agreed to stand a few yards away, his breath fogging the air as he stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets.

The snow crunched under her boots as Dorotea hobbled Garret’s gravestone, careful not to drop the beer or the piece of cake in her hands. 

She had missed the funeral. They had laid him to rest the second the Agency gave the all clear on Dorotea’s behalf. It was for the best; Kate, and everyone, needed closure. She could imagine the whole town draped in black, Kenny and Paul standing in silence for the first time in their lives, noses upturned, as the casket lowered beneath the ground. 

God, Garret would have hated it. He was too young for such reverent morbidity. He should be arguing with Douglas about whether Batman or Ironman was the superior comic billionaire, his squeaky, seldom loud voice echoing through the station.

Dorotea knelt down and then awkwardly fell to her bottom. The cake bounced on its paper plate, Hayley’s beautiful icing work smearing. When she had shuffled into a sitting position that was decently comfortable in the snow, she set her items down. “I know this isn’t the happiest reunion,” she said as she pulled the party hat from her head, her voice thick from the cold. She set it on top of the gravestone. “But I didn’t want to leave you out of the festivities.”

She talked about everything and nothing while she picked a cake slice apart with a tiny plastic spoon she had pocketed. Her second piece of the night, but she had almost bled to death, so she felt she earned the extra sugar. She told him about the agents, how annoying they were, how much she was glad that none of them had been seriously hurt. She updated him on his mother, on his friends, on the changing of the weather as winter took hold and tumbled into spring. “We caught him,” she finally grasped, her plate full of crumbs. “He won’t hurt anyone else. And I’m not gonna let anyone else get hurt like you did. I promise.”

Dorotea forced out a low laugh. “There, all that serious stuff is over now. Since you were complaining about not going out to the bar-“ she fished the bottle opener on her keyring and popped the beer cap off, “- I thought I might bring you something.” She took a swig before clearing some snow away and pouring what remained onto the dirt. “Your first drink. Don’t tell your mother.”

She stood, eyes and nose burning, her wet jeans sticking uncomfortably to her skin. With stiff joints, she picked up her trash and shuffled back towards Lance, pausing only to brush some snow from her father’s headstone.

-

While she felt leagues better than she had only a few days ago, Dorotea’s body protested as she hauled herself up her steps.

The Agency had completely repaired her apartment, Rebecca had told her, patching drywall and replacing windows, and much to Mr. Brian’s delight, he hadn’t had to pay for any of it. A freak gas leak and resulting explosion, they had told him. Despite the lack of signs of any actual fire, Mr. Brian agreed and told anyone who would listen about the terrifying blast and the great savings he had managed to negotiate. 

Dorotea had to admit that they did a wonderful job. Every single thing was back in its place. The couch had been replaced with a newer one, the upholstery clean and vibrant. Her knickknacks lined the shelves, pieced back together with museumlike quality, the glue seams only apparent when she ran her fingers over its surface. The guitar seemed to bear the brunt of the damage. All of the strings had finally snapped, and its surface was covered in gouges and soot. It was the only thing not repaired or replaced.

Good, she thought. It had been placed lovingly back into its spot, proudly facing out to the rest of the apartment. 

Dorotea limped towards the kitchen but stopped when something caught her eye. It was the only thing out of place in the entire apartment.

The package left on her table was flat and wrapped in plastic. No postage or shipping address was on its front, but there was a note taped to it, written in a looping script.

We found no evidence of the supernatural in these. A copy has been sent to Greenland’s family as well. I know you’ll appreciate the beauty, even in their damaged state.

Thank you for everything,and looking forward to workingwith you further,

-UB

Brows knit together, Dorotea undid the plastic and moved a piece of thick cardboard to the side. She pulled a sheaf of glossy papers out, gasping as she leafed through the contents.

Janet Greenland’s photographs had been intended to be black and white captures of the Appalachian landscape, transporting the viewer back into a time of horse-drawn buggies and oil lanterns, the ancient forests remaining nearly unchanged for all of human history. But days at the bottom of Wayhaven’s lake had altered them completely. Entire swaths of some of the images were erased to white, while spots, swirls of ink, and other damage marred the other bits. Some were completely unintelligible, reduced to abstract shapes that left Dorotea guessing at their origin. Many, however, kept the ghost of their previous shapes. She could spot the outline of trees in between the wreckage, or a glimpse of a boat pulled onto shore, or the uneven slats of a rotting wood cabin. 

The focus was clearly on the natural world, on the flora that surrounded them, but the last image was different. To someone unfamiliar with Wayhaven it would have looked like another mess of ink spots and smears, but to Dorotea it was clear as day. 

The town square was largely faded and pulled apart into abstraction, but Dorotea had stood in this very spot enough times to know what every shaky line meant. That was Hayley’s bakery, the window decorated with painted-on snowflakes, willing winter to come on time. And there was Paul’s car, with his bent side view mirror that Dorotea had reminded him of countless times. There was the little library, the librarian’s shadow in the window, and the post office, the tiny grocery store.

It was Wayhaven in all its messy, ruined glory. Dorotea put the other photographs down on the table, keeping the last one in her hand. She held her arm straight out, switching from squinting at the photo to the wall behind it as she slowly spun around. At last she found a spot that satisfied her. Yes, it would be perfect. 

She’d clear that section of wall tomorrow, after a shower and a meal and some heavy sleep. And she’d have to get it framed before she could hang up.

Dorotea shucked off her boots and went about her tasks with a soft smile, ready for whatever tomorrow might bring.

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

Defender Strange - 'I'll Always Be Holding You' part two

a Defender Strange x Female Reader romance

genre: friends to lovers, romance, angst, smut

rating: 18+ contains NSFW material

word count: 3.4k

continued from part one

Drowsy warmth enveloped you and the dear, familiar scent of cedar and sandalwood, accented with vanilla and ginger and a hint of leather, filled each breath you drew. Stephen. Holding me. Even before you remembered the why of it, your heart was beating a single, happy word—finally. One of his strong arms kept you safe against his firm chest, with your face resting atop his well-worn, sleeveless linen shirt. He had removed his battle tunic as he thought the material too rough a pillow for you. You had curled against him and drifted off to a comforting, dreamless sleep shortly after that.

The slow, steady rise and fall of Stephen’s breathing was so soothing and had you wondering if he was asleep. If so, you didn’t want to wake him; instead, you drew a deeper breath and softly kissed his chest over his shirt. He met that with a pleased rumble which you could feel against your cheek. You skimmed your palm up to rest just below the hollow of his throat and dared sliding your fingertips beneath the open v-neck of his shirt. Stephen gave a low, soft groan and murmured, “Sneaky, sneaky…” You would’ve withdrawn them at once, but he gently trapped your hand beneath his. “You don’t need to stop, you know. You never need to stop, Y/N—not if you don’t want to.”

You hummed softly, nestling your head closer to the crook of his neck. “You can’t imagine the number of times I’ve fantasized about you being here…with me…in my bed…”

Stephen’s low chuckle thrummed against your cheek. “Oh, please…tell me more, baby doll.”

You shrugged against him, tracing the bare skin at the base of his throat with a single finger, “Not so fast. A girl needs to keep some secrets to herself, you know.”

“Nooooo,” he grumbled, “I’ll have them all, Y/N. Every…” He took your chin, tilting it up enough to kiss you. More passionately between each word. “…single…one…of…them…”

“And then what,” you asked in a breathless dare.

“I’ll learn them better than I know myself,” he vowed, nipping at your kiss-swollen lips, “Engrave it on my skin deeper than any of my tattoos.” Stephen swept his tongue into your mouth, cradling your face in his free hand. Pressing his advantage, overpowering you with his restrained strength. You suckled the silk of his tongue in reply, moaning softly, your whole body flushed with awareness of the symbolism of this act.

Invade my every sense, you were thinking, swallowing the flavor of tea and honey that lingered on his tongue. Drinking in the scent of him as though it was your true sustenance; beneath the sandalwood, vanilla, and leather, were traces of citrus (his shampoo?), woodsy smoke (surely from wherever he’d been), and the unique, indefinable yet familiar aroma of his magic. You’d learned that one early on in your friendship—and in time, you were eventually able to divine if he’d worked a spell or charm as soon as you’d stood a few feet from him. Cover my skin in your magic, my love. My stalwart, brave Defender!

He broke from the kiss and you both gasped for air, and his quiet little laugh opened your eyes as a sudden notion occurred to you. “After all this time we’ve denied ourselves, doesn’t the reason for it remain…remain the same? I mean,” you gnawed on your bottom lip, not wanting to say it, but knowing that you should, “Aren’t there rules about this kind of…fraternization…between a simple Adept…”

“Soon to be a Master in her own right,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes, just a mite exasperated at his amusement, “Between a Master, then…and the Sorcerer Supreme?”

“What rules,” he teased you, slowly tracing your upper and then lower lip with the tip of his index finger. You pressed a kiss to it—for how could you not? “I make the rules, Y/N. And when we’re alone like this, the only rule that matters…” Stephen paused to study your face, exhaled slowly, and added, “is find your bliss.”     

He flashed you that dear, lopsided smile; the one that had always made your heart flutter, from even before he had drawn you into his company as friend and confidant. It was his promise that all would be well. That he would look after you and care for now and going forward, as his woman. The fulfillment of the quiet, mutual longing that had bound the two of together you for months. The most natural resolution of every mutually lingering glance and every careful touch you had dared to share for weeks and weeks, each of you cautious not to go too far. With his rakish, beguiling smirk and the soft and knowing satisfaction in his remarkable eyes, Stephen assured you that the coming kisses and embraces between you need no longer be restrained.

Your back still rested against the propped-up pillows, while you watched Stephen pull his shirt off over his head and let it fall to the floor, with that same swift grace that always left you speechless. Breathless. And filled with the desire you’d been silently denying could ever be set free. Your mind flashed back to that evening in the sauna and your first sight of him shirtless. How you’d tried so damn hard not to stare at his strong, broad shoulders and his muscular biceps and chest. You had been awestruck by the markings of his battle scars and tattoos upon first sight, but now--knowing him as a man, instead of as hero and leader and the Sorcerer Supreme—you didn’t have to forgo the urge to touch him. To memorize with your fingertips—and later, with your lips—the chronicle of his service, and to cherish each marking with the tenderness which he deserved.

You laid the tips of your fingers upon the thin, vertical scar nearby his tattoo tribute to his sister; later, in the warm and loving afterglow, he would reveal it had resulted from his first encounter with dark magic and it had been a miracle that he’d survived at all. At your tentative touch, Stephen’s eyelids fell shut while his mouth fell open with a soft moan, reminding you how touch-starved he must be. “Tell me,” you murmured, softly tracing along its length back and forth and back again, “If not now, but as our time together unfolds. Tell me the stories behind each of these…” You laid your palm on his shoulder, to smooth you hand down onto a far fresher weal upon the firm curve of his bicep, “I want to know everything, Stephen. And thank you for every danger that you’ve faced and all the pain you’ve borne for the sake of keeping the world from harm.”

He nodded, opening his eyes to meet yours, pledging as he moved close enough to breath light, lingering kisses on your cheeks and chin, his promises, “Every secret of my body…every truth that my soul houses…are yours for the asking, Y/N. And my heart I’ll trust to your hands alone.” Stephen was patient as he took your lips this time, slowly, deeply, stealing your breath. Remarkably gentle as his tongue teased yours--drawing a soft sound of relief from your mouth into his, while its thrust gradually grew more insistent. He cupped your face in both hands, again more gently than you had ever imagined he could. You’d seen how strong a man he was, witnessed his imposing physicality, yet the care he took with you now was that of a gardener nurturing the tenderest flower in his care. Your whole being was flush with joy and filled with your willingness to give Stephen whatever he might desire.

He withdrew and you both gasped for breath as one. “My darling…my precious Y/N,” he whispered as he brushed his lips onto your cheek again, softly spoiling your skin with his full, tender lips. You had slid your hand up to the nape of his neck, laying the other flat over his heart, lost in the sweet kisses he continued brushing on your face—until you realized he was placing them upon the half-healed cuts that marked your cheeks and forehead from your battle with the demons. Stephen trailed his lips along your jawline too, to linger softly on the bruise marking the shelf of your jaw. “Oh, Stephen…” you sighed, weak with awe to receive such loving care.

Then he moved down to nuzzle your neck and you nested your fingers in his hair. His whiskers only tickled you briefly as you got used to them and they were softer than you’d expected. As heavenly in their way, as everything about him. He’d drifted his hands to your shoulders, painting your throat with soft, moist kisses, while the warmth of his breath made you shiver, in anticipation of the pleasures to come. The give and take of the love it felt like you’d been waiting forever to share. “Mmmmmm…you’re so good to me, darling…”

“And I swear- I’ve only just begun,” he rumbled, and then nosed his way up to graze your earlobe, while sliding his right had down to cup your breast. “Oooo, sweet baby,” he panted against your ear, not even trying to hide his surprise, “You’re not wearing anything beneath this…”

“Mm-uhhh…” your lips parted with a sigh at the gentle flex of his large hand upon you, delighting you in how fully you filled it. “I wasn’t expecting company, you know…”

“Yet…here we are…at last…” The warmth of his breath on the delicate shell of your ear as he trailed off, raised goosebumps cascading across your skin and all down your arms. You felt the raw hunger of his voice as a thrill in the pit of your belly and as an unmistakable need at the apex of your thighs.

“At last,” you repeated, the words that followed peppered with quick little gasps as you strove for patience just a bit longer, “At last, after the endless days and nights it took us to get here…” You trailed off with a low growl in the back of your throat when Stephen tugged your lobe between his teeth, then softly sucked away the sting.

You let yourself slide down until you were on your back and looking up at him, and he moved so that his face hung just above yours. Committing this singular moment to memory, your eyes considered the finest details of his face. The exotic shape of his eyes and the fine crinkles at their corners. The smattering of freckles across his cheeks and the classic lines and angles of his cheekbones, nose, and jawline. The perfect bow of his upper lip and the enticing fullness of the lower, with a small, comma-shaped scar near the right corner. All of them making your fingers ache to touch—but not nearly as much as you longed to run them through the thick silk of his hair.

Stephen’s eyes narrowed quizzically, trying to decipher your expression. “What? What is it,” he chuckled. 

You raked your nails through one of his white streaks, and he nodded, reaching back to pull out the thin leather binding that held his trademark ponytail. He shook his hair loose and it fell free, down just past his shoulders, allowing you to comb your fingers through it. “I wanna feel it on my skin, darling—and to feel your skin on mine.”

His eyes remained on yours and his plush lips framed an ‘o’ as he exhaled slowly in his own effort to be patient. With the ghost of a nod, Stephen knelt beside you. His hands tremored slightly, hovering over the hem of your knee-length night gown as he watched for your consent; at your soft hum and bare nod, he began to tug it upwards, then over your head to cast it aside. His lust darkened eyes widened, though not at the vision of your form finally revealed after all those months of imagining--but at the map of mottled contusions upon your precious flesh, proof of your pain and of how close he’d come to losing you before he’d properly claimed you as his own. His shoulders sagged, while shock and sorrow colored his beloved features; he gnawed on his bottom lip as his eyes flitted from bruise to bruise, tallying the fearsome toll you had suffered. Stephen cursed under his breath when he saw the stitched-up gash that ran from your left hip down to the middle of your thigh; he knew without needing to ask that that wound must still be painful. He shook his head in disbelief, those cyan eyes that owned your soul filling with loving tears. “Oh gawd…oh gawd, baby…my poor, beautiful, girl…”

He leaned down, repeating the same, repeating your name, his forehead pressed to yours. “Never…never again, my love…never…never, never…” This time his kiss was fierce, taking you by storm, fueled by his need to prove himself the force of nature he would become when he needed to protect you. You held his face and relaxed beneath his desperate onslaught, opening yourself to his need to possess you—for your need was the perfect balance to his own.  

He had barely broken from the kiss before he murmured against your lips, “Tell me what you need, Y/N. Where are you hurting the most? Please- just tell me what to do.”

Your heart felt wonderfully weak at Stephen’s loving fervor and tears of quiet gratitude leaked along the outside curves of your cheeks. “Oh, my love- I’m fine. I barely feel them anymore. The Healers worked their magic well, and…and I look far worse than I feel.” You breathed the softest kisses of your life upon his lips. “All I need now if for you to love me…and fill me up with everything that’s you.”

Obedient and tender, Stephen answered your request, painting a patient trail of open-mouthed kisses down your throat and across your collarbone, listening carefully for any change in your sighs that could signal your discomfort. He sighed himself when you sank the fingers of both hands into his hair, carding it gently while he caressed you tentatively. “It’s alright, Stephen. I’ve craved your touch for so long now, and nothing of your touch could ever hurt me.” You gasped in delight when his right hand found your breast again, loving the warmth and roughness of his palm. “Oh gawd, yeeees…” you panted as he fondled you and swiped his thumb across your peaked nipple. “More…and more…and more,” you pled.

Stephen left off with a lingering squeeze, rising up and moving to straddle your thighs. Through half-lidded eyes you noted the thick bulge hidden beneath his leggings. So close now, and yet too far to touch. For now.

His gaze held a mix of hunger and concern before his eyes strayed to the cruel markings on your ribs. Stephen shook his head, barely laying his hands on the bruises there, watching for even the quietest wince. “Don’t try to tell me these aren’t a bit tender, baby. I’m still a doctor and I know broken ribs when I see them.” He closed his eyes in concentration and the blue glow of his magic lit both his hands as he laid them more firmly on your injured flesh. A soothing warmth penetrated your barely knit bones as he poured his own strength into you. It spread from your bones throughout your torso, spurring you to lay your hands atop his scarred ones. Stephen’s unlooked for gift made you long in your soul to do the same for him. To soothe and to heal. To make him whole once again.

“That’s better now, isn’t it,” he asked wryly, already certain of your answer.

“Mmmmmm…yeeees,” you assured him, sliding his magic hands up from your sides to cup your breasts. Stephen’s large hands had struck you as powerful well before you’d ever seen him work a single spell; and from the time you’d spent together as your friendship flourished, you also knew how gentle they could be. Many a night you’d fallen asleep fantasizing how they would feel mapping out the swells and contours of your body. And of how keen he might be to use his long, elegant—even with the scars—fingers to explore your most secret places. Heat pooled throughout your pelvis at just the thought.

Even when he smoothed his hands away—one onto the soft curve of your waist, the other to trace lazy circles upon your areola with his fingertips before diving down to moisten your stiff nub with his hot breath—the healing heat he’d provided remained, well beyond skin deep. You sighed his name as he took you in his mouth, slowly sucking while pressing the flat of his tongue against your nipple. You drew a quick gasp when Stephen pulled you deeper into his mouth, sucking hard—almost to the point of discomfort, but never quite crossing that line—the repeated flick of his tongue so divine it dizzied you. He released you and nuzzled his way over to visit the same treatment to your other breast.

Ah, how he took his time, seeking to spoil you with the love he’d kept pent up for so many months! You’d sunk your hands in his soft, thick hair, twining it around your fingers, while giving up quiet, steady sighs that turned throaty and inviting the further he advanced. Stephen murmured sweet endearments as he kissed his way across your skin, occasionally surprising you with the soft graze of his teeth—then swirling his tongue over the same spot, as though it needed soothing. You had always known he was a man of taut control—he needed to be, lest the astonishing power that lived at his core, drive him into recklessness. Now he took the same caution with you, and a part of you ached to bid him abandon caution and take you however he willed, though you knew he would not. The nature of your wounds would forbid him that.

He was careful when he left his marks on you; soft, sweet, lingering, while scrupulously avoiding any spot you’d been bruised, even where they had already nearly faded to naught. Stephen placed gentle, butterfly kisses along your ribs as you sighed his name repeatedly. You had bunched his hair in your hands as he made his way down your stomach and to the dip of your navel. Nuzzling, nipping, tracing the tip of his tongue ever lower, piquing the heat of your desire with tender insistence, while you moaned his name and raised your pelvis to meet his mouth. Your hands fell from their place in his hair when he lifted his face to watch you, his small smirk an assurance that he planned to take care of you in all the ways you longed for. “Are you comfortable, baby?” His voice was low and deep, and with his mouth so intimately close, you felt its heat wash like a wave through you core.

You nodded, hypnotized by the growing hunger in his eyes—until his lids dropped shut and he ran his parted lips along the waistband of your panties, growling quietly. He tucked two fingers beneath the fabric on either side, beginning to tug them away, inhaling sharply at the sight of your mound revealed. “My precious Y/N,” he hummed, “My darling…my sweet, sweet girl…” You lifted your hips to allow him to slide your dampened panties down and then off. “You’re wet…so wet…aren’t you, baby? Oh, the sweet musk of you…”

Stephen left one hand on your hip, holding you in place while he teased a single finger along the juncture of your thigh; you rocked yourself up, eager for him to explore you. “So wet…wet for you, Stephen…oh gaaaawd…”. You trailed off with a quick gasp when he parted your damp seam and nestled one of his long fingers along your exposed labia. He drew a deep, deep breath, savoring the scent of your arousal, humming his appreciation. “Baby, you smell so good…and I know you’re gonna taste even better. My sweet, precious girl…” Stephen met your swollen clitoris with the thick pad of his thumb, causing you to jerk your hips hard, then settle back as he rubbed it in slow circles. Reversing direction, changing the angle slightly, reading your gasps and moans, and the way you began to move, to learn and then master what pleased you best.

Stephen began to stroke his fingertips inside your slick lips, lingering at your opening each time. Though you let your bent legs fall further apart, inviting his fingers penetration, he denied your growing desperation—so that you mewled your disappointment each time he moved his fingers away. You were close to begging when he tutted softly, locking eyes with you when he finally slipped two fingers up to his first knuckle into throbbing pussy, “There now, my love—I know exactly what you need.” His voice was rough and a little breathless, proving he wanted what you ached for just as badly.

You couldn’t help clenching around his fingertips; he groaned at the sensation, sliding them out, then quickly thrusting them back in to his second knuckle. You’d squeezed your eyes shut, all your awareness focused on that connection, rocking your pelvis up to meet each glorious pump of his fingers. Unable to keep from seeking to swallow them to the hilt. In your fantasies, you had never envisioned yourself being so blatantly needy, and the less wise woman you had been before you came to Kamar-Taj would be ashamed to let a lover see this secret side of you. With Stephen, you felt no need for pretense of any kind—for his wisdom was supreme, and he had already come to know the truth of your soul before you had shared a single, intimate moment.

“Wish you could see how beautiful you look, Y/N,” he growled, finally thrusting his long, talented fingers as deep as he could, stoking the marvelous tension that centered in your core and radiated out to the muscles of your pelvis, thighs, and abdomen. “Beautiful and as perfect as I’ve always imagined you would be. Perfect and ripe…and mine. Completely mine.” Stephen’s voice was tinged with naked greed, his sudden possessiveness a thrill that flooded your veins with unheralded joy.

“Yes…oh, yes, my love,” you exclaimed shamelessly, “I am yours. Have been yours all along…from the first moment you spoke my name…” He replied with a heady groan, his thumb unrelenting as he worked that sweet bundle of nerves, seeking only your pleasure. Moments later, you felt his hair pool on your taut thighs—the only indication of his next intent. His thumb fell away and he placed a soft, reverent kiss in its place, giving you a few seconds to acclimate to his lips grazing your clit before he started fluttering the tip of his tongue against it.

This…this was something new. Novel to you, and unexpected--for the handful of lovers in your past had, not one of them, started your physical relationship with such an unselfish act. You whole body trembled in surprise, and you suddenly understood that you had always deserved so much better from those men. “Oh gaaaaaawd…” you sighed, reaching a hand to him, “I…I didn’t expect you to be so generous to me…”

His brows knit as he looked up at you, entwining his fingers in yours, with that adorable scrunch atop his nose, and his eyes perplexed by your claim. “How can I not be generous with you? Who let you believe you didn’t deserve every act of love a man can make?”

You shook you head, feeling quite foolish. “It…it doesn’t matter now,” you assured him, “Because you’ve already shown me they were wrong.” Fresh tears filled your eyes. “You’re all that matters to me now, Stephen.”

He smiled so tenderly, and so wisely too, it imprinted on your memory as his most perfect. Stephen tightened his hold on your hand—as much as he could without it being painful to him and raised himself up to lean on his elbow. “I’ve dreamed of tasting you, baby…over and over again. I’ve held myself back from standing too close to you, or even accidentally brushing against you because I believed my position forbade me to.” His velvet insistence was the song your soul had craved from before you’d ever laid eyes upon. “Know this, Y/N. There’s been times I see you crossing the courtyard…at table with others in the dining hall…reading in the library all on your own…so many moments when you have no idea I’m watching you, but…my mouth waters when I think of how badly I want to kiss you…claim all of you as mine…taste your skin…taste your secrets…taste you, wanting me too.” Stephen hung his head, as though his confession had drained his strength, drew a ragged sigh and added, “And now I’m going to worship you with my body…and my heart. My mind and soul. With everything that I am.”

You had never doubted that Stephen Strange was a man of his word. The proof he offered now unfolded as the ecstasy of your lifetime…

(to be continued - sorry if it seems like a further tease from part one; I'm struggling with severe writer's block, and it's a real miracle I finished this much!)

tagging: @valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn @harlekin6 @wint3r-h3art @frostandflamesfanfic @humanbornarchangel @aeterna-auroral-avengerterna-aurori @starkiller-queen

related works:

part one - ‘of secret longing and hidden grief’

part two - ‘of spilled tea and more than sympathy’

‘greeting the sunrise’ - snippet from part three (incomplete)

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[here4theheartbreak]

Hotel Date (LotP ch.10)

Relationships: Bangchan x Changbin     Genre: smut | angst w/ a happy ending | werewolf au   Rating: Explicit     Chapter Word Count: ~4.8k   Tags (not all tags apply to all chapters; these are full fic tags): DD:DNE, Smut,  Friends to Lovers, Werewolf AU, Angst w/ a happy ending, Fluff, Werewolf Bang Chan, Idolverse, Minor Violence, Side Pairing Felix/Minho, Bickering, Bottom Changbin, Top Chan, Werewolf Smut, Knots

Summary: Secrets are hard to keep from those we love. This was a fact that Chan  knew all too well. He loved his members and he shared every piece of  himself with them - except the biggest, and most vital. Chan was cursed.  ​   A/N: Fic will be updated Monday/Tuesdays as schedule allows; Please note that fic will include smut while member is in wolf form; he is still sentient and able to communicate, which is the reason for the dead dove tag; please do not proceed if not comfortable with this.       Read on AO3! | Read on Asian Fanfics

“Finally.” Changbin dropped his backpack and slumped down onto the mattress. “I honestly was thinking we’d never have a break again.”

Chan laughed softly, rising from the other bed. “You and me both. It’s been a long few months.” He stretched out on his stomach next to Changbin, grabbing a pillow and folding it under his head. “This was a good idea.”

It was their first date night since before they’d all gotten sick. Though they’d discussed a lot of different places, they both decided the best night out would be relaxing and silence. So, Chan rented a room in a nice hotel room for the evening. Each showed up separately to avoid as much notice as they could.

Changbin moved closer to Chan, nuzzling against his shoulder and kissing it gently. “Wanna order room service?” He mumbled, his voice muffled.

“I’ll let you order,” Chan said, “I wanna take a shower that doesn’t involve Jisung rushing in mid-wash and flushing the toilet.”

He rose and stripped out of his clothes while Changbin looked over the menu. “Hey… Wanna join me after you’re done ordering?” Chan offered, touching Changbin’s shoulder. Changbin looked over his body, smirking.

“Tempting… But I’ll shower after you. Give you some time alone.”

Chan pouted. “You don’t need to.”

“I want to.” Changbin rose and pulled Chan close, sliding a hand down his stomach and palming his cock. Chan drew in a quick breath, eyes slipping shut. “Give you some time to relax before dinner…” He kissed along Chan’s neck and shoulder before biting gently. He stepped back. “Plus, you smell like our dorm.” He complained.

Chan huffed, furrowing his brows. “You just have to ruin the moment, don’t you?”

“You knew that when you got into this relationship, you can’t complain about it now.”

Chan sighed again, shaking his head. He threw his shirt at Changbin, smirking when it struck him in the face. “You’re still insufferable,” he complained as he headed to the bathroom.

Chan stood under the warm water, taking time to clean without being rushed by another member or an impending schedule. He could hear Changbin through the half-closed door, singing along to something he couldn’t make out. His heart sped up as he listened, a smile crossing his face. They hadn’t had much time alone, and even when they did, it was often broken up with interruptions, phone calls, and general work. He heard the music cut out and Changbin speaking to someone. The music turned back on after a moment and Chan stepped out of the shower, drying off and pulling on a pair of shorts.

“Food here?” He asked. “Yep.” Changbin glanced up from where he was setting their dinner on the small table. His eyes roamed up and down Chan’s body for a moment, his dimples appearing for a moment before he licked his lips. “Dessert too.”

Chan scrunched his face. He gasped when it clicked, smacking his forehead. “Oh gross, man,” he groaned, stepping over to punch Changbin’s shoulder. “You’re a pig.”

Changbin grinned brightly. “I’m a pig-bunny, get it right.”

“Yeah, and I’m the big bad wolf,” Chan said, rolling his eyes.

Changbin growled low in his throat. He wrapped his arms around Chan’s middle from behind him, kissing along his neck. “Yeah you are,” he mumbled, nipping his earlobe. “Gonna huff and puff and blow my house down, wolf boy?”

Chan scoffed, wrestling himself free of Changbin’s grip. “Why did we pick the idiot?” He asked, his shoulders slumping.

Changbin remained still, his grin as wide and stupid as he could possibly make it. “My stunning good looks?”

“Hmm… Minho is prettier.”

“Minho is taken.”

“True.” Chan nodded. “But he wasn’t back then. And Jisung has always been pretty cute.”

“He’s not your type.”

“Loud and obnoxious? Yeah, no, based on this, he’s pretty much my type.” He motioned to Changbin, who pouted deeper.

“Fine. You chose me because I’m a good rapper.”

“Once again making a good case for Jisung, he’s good too. Hyunjin too, if we’re being honest about it.”

“Hyunjin likes girls. And they’re not as good as me.”

“No, fine, your rap is the best out of all of us.” Chan screwed his lips up in an annoyed pout, rolling his eyes back. “Well fine, I guess I have to settle.”

Changbin shouted, shoving him before pulling him into a kiss. “Stop making that face,” he said when he pulled back

“What face?”

“That ugly one. You’re gonna get wrinkles, old man.”

Chan sighed heavily, shaking his head. “You know you’re only two years younger than me.”

“And those years make a whole world of difference. I mean, just look at me.” He stepped back and twirled ungracefully, catching his foot on the chair leg and stumbling. Chan laughed, reaching forward to stabilize him.

“Careful. You won’t be much to look at if you break your face. Even with those two years.”

Changbin laughed at that. “Come on, I wanna eat. I’m hungry.”

“Are you gonna shower?”

“I’ll do it after we eat.”

The two settled into a comfortable rhythm with dinner, sharing their food and passing bowls and items back and forth as they chatted about everyday things. This was what made Changbin so perfect as a partner, Chan realized. How easy things always were with him. Aside from their first awkward date, they’d fallen into a sort of domesticity that many couples would have to work years at to have happen.

The trays of food in front of them dwindled to scraps as the night grew darker and their conversation slowed, the gaps in conversation growing wider. Chan could sense the tension in the room shifting, subtle but there.

He’d known from the moment that they decided to get a hotel room what the likely result of the evening would be, but it had been a far-off thought until now. There was no misunderstanding Changbin’s gaze though, the darkness in his eyes and pink on his cheeks that had nothing to do with the spice in their meal. Chan felt it too, his stomach beginning to tense and tighten, heart thudding faster against his ribs as his ears burned. His wolf stirred in his subconscious, far more sensitive to the raw, emotional changes and shifts in pheromones that Chan wasn’t aware of in his human form.

Changbin cleared his throat and wiped his mouth, rising. “I think I should take that shower now,” he murmured. Chan’s gaze dropped, his cheeks burning hot when he realized the front of Changbin’s jeans were slightly tented, evidence that this was most assuredly not in his head. He nodded.

“I’ll brush my teeth too, while you’re in there, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

Chan grabbed his toothbrush and followed Changbin into the bathroom. They stood shoulder to shoulder as they cleaned their mouths, each avoiding their eyes in the mirror.

Changbin stripped out of his clothes when he finished, pausing in his boxers. Chan met his gaze. “Shy?” He teased.

Changbin looked down, and Chan could see his cheeks develop a lovely blush. He rinsed his mouth and turned around, kissing Changbin’s mouth. “I’ll clean up our dinner mess. Enjoy your shower.”

He turned and left, shutting the door carefully. The water turned on a few moments later. Chan considered slipping back in, showering with him, but he’d given Chan the respect of a peaceful, solo shower – Changbin deserved the same. Instead, he went around and cleaned up their dinner remains, tossing them in the trash and wiping down the table. He went through his bag and placed a few items that he hoped they might need into the drawer of the stand between the beds. If he was somehow misreading things, the last thing he wanted was some awkward interaction with lube sitting out in the open. He found his speaker and turned on music, stretching out on the bed and closing his eyes.

 The bed shifted a few minutes later. Chan smiled, keeping his eyes shut as Changbin kissed over his chest and neck. His hair was damp, tickling Chan’s skin. “You’re warm,” he mumbled.

“Shower was nice. This is nicer,” Changbin said. He bit down gently on Chan’s nipple and Chan gasped, touching the back of his neck. He forced his eyes open, looking down at Changbin.

“I was worried,” he admitted.

“’Bout what?” Changbin asked, his voice muffled as he shifted over, straddling Chan and placing kisses down his chest and stomach.

“That I was misreading tonight’s plan.”

Changbin smirked, rolling his eyes up. He slid his tongue out, tracing up the center of Chan’s stomach with the tip of it. “We’re all alone, in a nice hotel room… What did you think might happen?”

Chan shrugged sheepishly. “I thought… We were going to, but… We hadn’t talked about it, so I didn’t want to assume.”

“Oh, you can assume,” Changbin said. He mouthed gently over Chan’s cloth covered cock before sliding back up his body and kissing him hard. “I’ve been daydreaming about this since we decided to rent the room.”

“Me too. I just…” He drifted off when Changbin moved his mouth to his pulse point, chewing his bottom lip.

“Are you nervous?” Changbin asked, running his lips gently across Chan’s throat.

“Yeah,” Chan admitted in a breath, relieved to say it. “I don’t wanna make a mistake.”

“You won’t,” Changbin assured him. He kissed his neck and nuzzled it. “But we don’t have to do this, I don’t want to force it.”

“No, no, I want it.” Chan chuckled a little. “I really want this. I just want to make sure you enjoy it.”

Changbin snorted, pulling back to look at Chan incredulously. “It’s sex. And we’re guys in our twenties. Not to be crass, but I’m pretty sure I’ll enjoy it no matter what.”

Chan laughed, shaking his head. “Crass? Big word for you.”

Changbin wrinkled his nose, sticking his tongue out. Chan rolled his eyes. “There we go, that’s more on par.”

“Do you wanna fuck me tonight? Because you’re sailing directly into sleeping on your own for a month,” Changbin threatened.

Chan smirked. He reached down and slipped his hand into Changbin’s boxers, gripping his hard cock.

“You’d never,” he murmured when Changbin’s eyelids fluttered. Changbin bit his lip, pushing his hips toward Chan’s hand.

“Not playing fair,” he mumbled.

Chan laughed softly. He freed his hand and pushed Changbin onto his back. He pulled his boxers off, taking a moment to slide his hands up Changbin’s muscular thighs. He shivered, the mental image of those strong legs wrapped around his middle coming suddenly to mind. Chan leaned down, gently kissing and biting a path down Changbin’s hipbone and around to his thigh. He pushed his legs open and placed a firm bite on his inner thigh.

Changbin gasped, a laugh slipping free afterward. “Watch where you bite,” he joked, “sensitive stuff.”

“Oh? That so?” Chan teased. He moved up, letting his teeth graze as gently as he could over Changbin’s balls. He watched them draw up, Changbin’s cock twitching. “Seems like you like it a little risky. I don’t recall you complaining when your cock was in a mouth full of my far sharper teeth.”

Changbin shivered. He smirked. “Oh it was scary as hell. But that mouth…” He groaned deeply. “I would’ve gladly let you suck my cock at all night like that.”

Chan laughed softly. “Glad I could oblige. Now hand me a pillow and lift your hips.”

“I already prepped quite a bit, so you shouldn’t have to work too much at it,” Changbin said, looking a little sheepish when Chan cocked a brow at him. He passed down the pillow, lifting his hips to let Chan ease it under and angle his ass upward.

“I was hopeful,” Changbin muttered in his defense.

Chan smiled, kissing along his inner thighs. “I don’t mind… Did you do it while you showered earlier?” He murmured between kissed.

Changbin nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t wanna do it too early on.”

“So that’s why you insisted on the shower alone,” Chan said. He nipped Changbin’s thigh again. “Were you thinking of me? What I’d do to you tonight?” He spread Changbin’s ass, running his thumb over the delicate hole. “Or maybe you were thinking of my wolf. The way I swallowed your cock, a massive creature who let you fuck my muzzle like I was your sex toy. Hm?”

Changbin groaned, throwing an arm over his face. “Both,” he whispered, his voice muffled. “I didn’t wanna come too soon, so I jacked off. Couldn’t help thinking of how good your wolf’s mouth felt… How amazing it was to come, watch you swallow and lick it up… And how amazing it was to see you come like that…” He looked down at Chan. “I still want to feel it. I know it’s different than human form but…”

Chan nodded. “I want to too - it was all I could do to prevent my wolf from mounting you that night.”

“Shit,” Changbin murmured. “I would’ve let you too.”

“I know. But I wanted our first time to be like this. Lube’s in the drawer, grab it please?”

“You’re so unprepared,” Changbin complained, twisting his torso to open the drawer and grab the bottle. He passed it down to Chan, smiling softly when their eyes met.

Chan poured some onto his fingers, shifting to slick up Changbin’s hole. He hissed.

“That’s cold,” he complained.

“Don’t be a jerk then,” Chan said. He added more before gently pressing a finger in, pleased when it slid in easily. He added a second and spread them, earning a groan that made his stomach flip delightfully. He began to finger Changbin open, spreading his hole and rubbing the soft flesh to relax it. While he did, he kissed and nibbled gently at his thighs, sighing happily when Changbin buried his fingers in his hair.

Chan gently spread Changbin’s hole, slipping his tongue past the rim. Changbin giggled.

Chan pulled back, brows furrowed. “What?”

Changbin smiled. “You’re… How to say this nicely. Your tongue is far too short for that to feel good.”

Chan pouted, his cheeks warming with nervous embarrassment.  Changbin seemed to realize he’d spoken wrong, because his face relaxed and he shook his head.

“It’s okay,” he promised, reaching down to stroke back Chan’s hair. “Use your fingers, they felt amazing. And I’d rather have you up here anyways. Use your mouth for kissing me.” He pouted cutely, puckering out his lips.

Chan chuckled, his pride still stinging. “Sure my tongue isn’t too short for that too?” He grumbled. Changbin shook his head no. He tugged at Chan’s arms.

“Please?” He whined.

Chan sighed and moved up to lay next to him, taking a moment to add more lube to his fingers before slipping them back into Changbin. Changbin gasped, his eyes fluttering. He met Chan’s gaze and slipped his finger into his mouth, sucking gently at it. Chan swallowed hard, his stomach flipping and cock twitching at the sight. Changbin pulled his finger free and moved his hand down, laying it over Chan’s. He added his finger to his hole along with Chan’s, gasping sharply. He grinned and tilted his head up.

“Kiss me. Kiss me then get inside me, I’m ready.” Chan swallowed down the swell of nerves at Changbin’s words. He pressed a kiss to his mouth, relaxing as their lips moved together, Changbin’s soft groans filling the air as they fingered him open together.

Changbin pulled his finger free after a few minutes and gripped Chan’s wrist. “Don’t—“ He gasped.

“What’s wrong?”

“If you keep rubbing me there I’m gonna come.”

Chan smirked. He rubbed Changbin’s prostate gently. “Here you mean?”

Changbin whined, arching his hips. “Channie—“ he whimpered.

“Maybe I want you to come,” Chan mumbled. He nipped his ear, still massaging Changbin’s prostate. “Wanna make you come like this, then take you. Unless you don’t think you can get it up again,” he teased.

Changbin glared, his teeth bared as he writhed on the bed. His cock was twitching, little dribbles of precome puddling under the tip with each stroke from Chan’s fingers.

“I’m gonna make you come first,” Changbin groaned. His knees went up, toes curling into the blanket as he moaned.

“That so? Gonna make sure I finish first so you can tease me?” Chan joked. “I don’t know… Seems like you’re pretty easy to please. Just the right angle…” He twisted his wrist, nudging the delicate bump on each thrust of his fingers.

Changbin covered his mouth with his hand, muffling his shout. His hips jerked and his body shuddered as his cock began to throb, spurting come onto his belly with each thrust. “Fuck, fuck—“ He gasped. “Now, please— Chan, please!” He begged, grinding against Chan’s hand.

Chan pulled his fingers free and grabbed the lube, hurriedly adding it to his cock before settling between Changbin’s legs. “Condom?” He asked in a breath.

Changbin shook his head. “Bare,” he whined.

Chan nodded. He grabbed Changbin’s hip and began to push into him. They both gasped as Changbin’s body opened for him, easily drawing in his tip. Chan leaned over, bracing his hands on either side of Changbin’s head as he pushed deeper, the squeeze almost too much to handle.

Changbin met his gaze, his own lips parted. He smirked. “Doesn’t look like you’ll last very long,” he teased.

Before Chan could gather the breath to respond, Changbin hooked a leg over his ass and squeezed, forcing Chan’s hips forward to drive the rest of his cock in quickly.

Chan shouted, burying his face in Changbin’s neck. Changbin moaned just as loudly, shivering under Chan’s body. “God, that’s good,” he groaned, twisting his hips down. He let his leg fall to the side again. Chan whined, earning a laugh from Changbin.

“Too much for you?” He teased.

Chan huffed. He lifted himself back up on his hands and pulled his cock almost entirely free before slamming in again, baring his teeth against the groan that threatened to erupt. Changbin moaned freely, his eyes rolling back.

“That’s it,” he mumbled. “Go faster, I like it.”

Chan kissed him hard, pulling back and driving in again. He picked up a deep, steady rhythm, his entire body already on edge. Changbin’s hole was a delightfully warm squeeze, clenching and releasing at random intervals that had Chan whining into his mouth. Changbin’s cock was still hard, pressed between their bellies every time he drove deep, slicked by his first release.

“I want you to ride me,” Chan panted against Changbin’s shoulder. He rolled off him and laid next to him, shifting to the center of the bed when Changbin rose. He slicked Chan’s cock teasingly slow, staring into his eyes as he did. The penetration was just as slow, with Changbin sinking onto his cock inch by inch. It was torture, but it was delightful. Changbin’s muscles were tense, visible in his thighs as he spread his legs to straddle Chan’s hips. He could see them quivering as he struggled to stay stable, his belly tense. Chan reached out, stroking Changbin’s come covered cock once.

Changbin groaned, dropping fully onto Chan’s cock.

He lifted himself up again, twisting his hips forward to thrust his cock into Chan’s grip at the same time. Chan sighed happily, forcing his eyes to remain open. This angle forced him to not go quite as deep, allowing his tense body to back away from the edge of his orgasm and enjoy the pleasure.

Changbin moaned softly, grabbing the headboard above Chan’s head to balance as he leaned forward, moving at a steady pace. He opened his eyes, smiling when he met a Chan’s gaze.

“Good?” Chan breathed. Changbin nodded. He lowered himself down, barely moving as he kissed along Chan’s shoulder.

“How do I feel?” He murmured when he reached his ear.

“Amazing.” Chan wrapped his arms around Changbin’s middle, gently thrusting up to meet Changbin in the middle.

“Yeah?” He murmured. “Making you feel good? Getting you close?”

Chan nodded, burying his nose in the crook of Changbin’s neck as he kissed along it.

“How about your wolf?” Changbin whispered.

Chan’s grip tightened on his middle. He’d been carefully controlling that side of him all night, holding it back. “Changbin—“ He strained.

“What?” Changbin gently pulled off Chan’s cock and moved to the side, stroking it lazily instead.

Chan bared his teeth, trying to even his breathing. “Jealous,” he finally gritted out.

“The wolf?”

Chan nodded. “I… Didn’t think it through.”

Changbin went up on his elbow. When Chan looked at him, concern was obvious on his face.

“Talk to me. Are you in pain?”

“No, just… This is one of those emotions that make it a little harder to control that side of me.”

Changbin smirked. “What, you wanna fuck like an animal?”

Chan looked at him quickly, his mouth in a thin line. Changbin’s face turned serious. “You do.”

“In a way.”

Changbin stopped stroking his cock. He set his hand on Chan’s stomach, gently running his fingers along it. “Does it feel the same? Getting your cock sucked in human or as your wolf?”

Chan nodded. “Yeah, it’s all still me. Just more animalistic.”

“So sex probably would be too.”

“Similar, yeah.”

“Then does he want to come out?”

Chan looked at Changbin quickly, his eyes widening. “What?”

“I know it’s not the full moon but… If you feel like it’ll be better…”

“No—“ Chan shook his head. “Don’t misunderstand. I love this. This is perfect,” he kissed Changbin’s mouth gently. “My wolf is just a side of me I have to hold back right now. Because this is perfect, me, as a human, this is amazing.”

“But the wolf side of you…”

“Wants to mate,��� Chan finished, nodding. “Wants to make you his, hold you down. Knot you…” He finished in a low growl.

Changbin closed his eyes, pressing his hand against his cock. “That tone…” He bit his lip. “You can let him out, if you want.”

Chan shook his head. “Not tonight.” He sat up and pulled Changbin up. He kissed him hard and then shoved him, wrestling onto all fours. Changbin moaned, sticking his ass up.

“Tonight I’m fucking you like this,” Chan growled. He added lube to his cock and Changbin’s hole and slammed in, grabbing Changbin’s shoulders to make sure he was seated fully inside him. Changbin shouted, throwing his head back.

Chan laid over him, wrapping one arm around his middle to keep him pinned. He placed his other hand over Changbin’s on the mattress, lacing their fingers together. His wolf howled in his head, fighting against all the bounds he had to be free, to mate. He fought him back as he began to fuck Changbin hard and fast, his hips connecting almost painfully against Changbin’s ass.

Changbin grunted, squeezing Chan’s hand tightly. “Yes—“ He gasped, struggling to speak with the force of the thrusts.

“This is how it’ll be, Bin,” Chan grunted in his ear. “Next month when I change, fuck— You’d better be ready, I won’t be able to hold him back. Not with you teasing like this.”

Changbin moaned brokenly, pressing as much of his body as he could against Chan. “Chan!” He sobbed. “Please, yes!”

Chan bit down on the soft meat of his shoulder, feeling the skin give under his teeth. Changbin grabbed back of his neck, holding him there as he twisted his hips back, moaning for him to continue.

“Don’t stop—“ Changbin finally gasped. His short nails dug into Chan’s neck and he shouted. Chan felt his ass clench impossibly tight, and a warm rope of come splashed over his arm where he was holding Changbin’s middle. He placed his hand over Changbin’s erupting cock and released his jaw’s grip. With a cry of Changbin’s name, he drove forward, pushing him flat on the bed and pinning him. He fucked into him as deep and hard as he could, grunting his name as he did.

Changbin shuddered through his own orgasm, his come filling Chan’s palm and slicking his cock as it slid in his grip.

Chan snarled and pushed his cock as deep as it would go as his orgasm hit. He began to thrust shallowly with each rope of come, grunting and whining against Changbin’s shoulder.

His balls ached, both from the force of his orgasm and the squeeze of his muscles, trying desperately to force more than his human body could make. Still, he thrusted until his cock softened, sliding out of Changbin’s used hole with a dribble of come following after.

“Fuck,” Changbin panted, his voice muffled by the mattress.

Guilt washed over Chan then, souring the afterglow. “Shit, are you okay?” He worried.

Changbin raised his head slowly and smirked, eyes nearly closed.  “I’m fucking amazing,” he mumbled, his words slurring together. He dropped his face back into the mattress and shouted, shivering. “Fuck.”

Chan laughed helplessly at the outburst. He stretched out next to Changbin, carefully rubbing his lower back. “We should move to the other bed… This one is gross.”

“You did it,” Changbin mumbled.

“I feel like we both did it.”

“Nuh-uh. That was all you. You and your fucking wolf.”

“He didn’t even come out,” Chan argued.

Changbin turned his head, folding one arm under his face to look at Chan. “A part of him did. I could see it in your eyes… They were his there, at the end. You didn’t realize?”

Chan blinked, frowning. He shook his head. “No, I… I was really overwhelmed with how it felt, I… I guess I didn’t. I know it’s possible to draw out just parts of our wolves, so I guess it would make sense that they could slip out like that too. “I didn’t scare you, did I?”

“Not even a little. That was exactly what I hoped it would be.”

Changbin rolled onto his side and groaned, looking down at their middles. “Oh, ew.”

“We’re a mess,” Chan agreed.

“Shower?”

“Can you walk?”

Changbin snorted. “Don’t think quite so highly of yourself.” He flopped onto his back and sat up, taking a breath before rising to his feet.

And promptly flopping back onto the bed. Chan rose onto his knees, grabbing Changbin’s shoulders worriedly. “You okay?”

Changbin laughed, leaning back against Chan’s chest. “Okay, you can think that highly of yourself… My legs are jelly.”

Chan laughed, wrapping his arms around Changbin’s shoulders. “Thanks for the compliment. Come on, we’ll walk together.”

He rose and helped Changbin up. Together they walked to the bathroom and readied the shower. They washed one another in silence, trading soft kisses and touches as they did. Though nothing had changed really – sex was sex – Chan could feel something shift inside him. His wolf, his own heart – he couldn’t tell. The moment his mother had warned him about those weeks ago – that desperate need to have all of Changbin. It was budding deep inside him. He wanted his mate to be his. It was a terrifying feeling, not knowing if the feeling was truly reciprocated. Changbin cared about him, of course – but something so intense as mating? As changing? Especially when Chan had been so against it just a few months back – was he really considering offering it now?

“Hey?” Changbin’s voice pulled Chan from his thoughts. He smiled.

“Hm?”

“You’re zoned out. You okay?”

“I’m good. Just tired,” Chan promised.

“You sure?”

Chan drew in a deep breath, considering whether or not he should mention things. He shook his head no. “No, not really. Nothing is wrong though. I’ve just… Got some stuff to sort out.”

“About us?”

Chan nodded after a beat.

“Did I do something wrong?” Changbin worried.

Chan shook his head quickly, setting his hands on Changbin’s shoulders. “No. This isn’t you. This isn’t anything bad, we’re fine.” He kissed Changbin’s mouth. “I promise.”

“Then what is it?”

Chan chewed on the inside of his lip, trying to determine the easiest way to explain. Finally he shook his head. “I want to tell you,” he said. “I just don’t know how to word it so we can talk about it, that’s what I need to think about. I promise, it’s something for us to discuss. Something about my wolf. Nothing bad. Just give me a little time to figure out the easiest way to talk about it, okay? It’s not something I really ever thought I’d bring up to people.”

Changbin nodded. “Sure. No problem.” He hesitated, searching Chan’s face for a moment. “Let’s get to bed.”

They dried off in the same comfortable silence they’d washed in, foregoing clothing as they curled up under the blanket on the other bed. Chan rested his head on Changbin’s firm chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as his mind raced. It would be a difficult discussion, he worried. But it needed to be put out there, Changbin deserved that much. Chan forced his worries down, making himself focus on Changbin’s slow, even breaths and letting much need sleep wash over him.

[sergeant-spoons]

129. If Your Wings Are Broken, Borrow Mine So Yours Can Open Too

Verity/Victor Rich

Taglist: @thoughpoppiesblow​​​​​​​ @chaosklutz​​​​​​​ @wexhappyxfew​​​​​​​ @50svibes​​​​​​​ @tvserie-s-world​​​​​​​ @adamantiumdragonfly​​​​​​​ @ask-you-what-sir​​​​​​​ @whovian45810​​​​​​​​ @brokennerdalert​​​​​​​ @holdingforgeneralhugs​​​​​​​ @claire-bear-1218​​​​​​​ @heirsoflilith​​​​​​​​ @itswormtrain​​​​​​​​ @actualtrashpanda​​​​​​​​ @wtrpxrks​​​​​​​​

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Brandy?"

Nicholas Rich knew that face.

There was a pinch in her brow, her skin was taut over her cheekbones, and her hair was two shades darker than it used to be, but it was her.

His daughter.

Verity.

She hadn't sent word that she was coming home, though as she stared at her father and he stared at her, it occurred to Verity that she probably should have. Even a telegram would have sufficed. Or a phone call. It wasn't like she'd forgotten the number; it hadn't changed in the last twenty-four years. Her hand flexed even as she reminded herself she didn't need the rifle that wasn't there; her heartbeat continued to race even as she identified there was no present danger. The mystery of the shattering sound was solved by the sight beside her father's feet, where shards of ceramic floated in a thin, steaming puddle—the remnants of a mug of tea. Just as Verity's knees finally unlocked and allowed her to stand, her father's gave out and let him fall to the carpet. His daughter flew to him and dropped down, embracing him tightly as they knelt on the carpet, together again after all this time.

"Pa," she wept, her voice hoarse and shaky and higher than it had been in years. "Pa, it's really me. I'm really home."

"It's you," he rasped, his voice ragged and rough as if he hadn't spoken in a long, long time. "It's really you."

He touched her face and her shoulders and her hands, and when he saw how her knuckles and fingers were pinpricked by scars, his watery smile fell into grief. She reassured him that her hands were alright, she'd had worse, and he went pale; as she drew back her hair to show him her mangled ear and the pink scar across her neck, he began to cry.

"I'm alright, Pa," she said. "It doesn't hurt anymore. I can hear just fine."

"Oh, my Brandy," he mourned, and all Verity could do was hold him as he sobbed for all she'd been through, barely able to subdue her own tears.

Verity spent her first few days in Alton holed up in the house. Her heart kept aching for all the things around her as if it hadn't yet realized she'd made it home. When she tried to sleep in her own bed that first night, with her own sheets and pillows and blankets, she couldn't. The mattress was somehow too comfortable, and even though she'd been sleeping in a real bed for months over in Austria, she couldn't get used to this one, the one that smelled like home. She sat up for a while with the window cracked and her bedside lamp on the dimmest setting, smoking her last two cigarettes and reading "Gulliver's Travels", then spent the rest of the night laying on her side, looking around the room at what she'd been missing. The paper animals her uncle sent all those years ago were still strung up across the wall, untouched and undamaged but a little dusty. There was her bookshelf, too. She could identify her copy of Frankenstein without having to look at the title, and that was good because, at some point, 'well-loved' had become 'tattered' and left the writing on the spine illegible. Her carpet was still speckled with bits of wool from years of sweater-wearing, bits that never seemed to come out no matter how much she vacuumed.

Verity's father found her on that carpet in the morning, curled around a single pillow, fast asleep. He stood in the doorway and wept, then sat when his legs began to shake and wept some more. The last time he'd seen someone lay like that was the last Christmas they'd had Marguerite before the cancer took her. Verity was newly three years old. Nicholas had known war; his daughter had not—at least, not yet. Nicholas had never known his mother; now his daughter would not, either. Nicholas had lived to be an old man; his daughter, thank the Lord, had come home to live and live and live until she was old, too. And he cried for all these things but kept quiet about it so he would not wake her. Verity never found out about this. For the first time in four years, she slept past five in the morning and didn't wake up until noon. Her father had left the door open to let some of the sunlight from the window above the staircase in, and now it tickled her face. She woke with a smile and got up off the carpet with ease, feeling more rested than she had since the night she left Alton those many months ago.

Nicholas was just coming back in from some errand when his daughter came downstairs. They hugged and had lunch in the kitchen. He made sandwiches with meat and cheese from the deli in town and lettuce and tomatoes from his own garden. Verity could only eat half of hers before the richness of the meal overtook her and she had to go sit down in the parlor and drowse for a bit. When she got up, it was almost three in the afternoon, and she realized she'd left her watch—her father's old watch—upstairs. All for the better, she supposed, eyeing the clock on the mantel; that watch was still set to England time, and she wasn't sure when she'd remember to change it. She and her father spent much of the afternoon just talking, as they had done all of yesterday and would do all of tomorrow. They spoke of everything under the sun except for the actual warring part of her time away. They could catch up and cry about all that sometime later. For now, they'd had enough of sorrow. Nicholas' eyes implored Tell me about this George Luz and his remarkable impersonations one more time and Verity's replied with I will tell you ninety times, and at the hundredth, you will have to stop me or I might run away and drag him back here myself because I miss him and I know you see that.

On the third morning, she went to shower, knowing she'd put it off long enough. She stalled outside of the linen closet for a while, picking two of the finest towels, one for her hair and the other for her body, as was her old habit, before remembering her hair wasn't nearly as long as it had been in her youth. In her youth. She was twenty-three, she looked like she was thirty, and she felt as if she'd lived fifty years in the span of eighteen months. Dragging herself into the bathroom, she shut and locked the door, put the towels on the counter beside the sink, and turned toward the mirror. Verity hadn't seen her own face since the day she left Austria, almost three weeks ago. Now she was home, and the mirror was scrubbed clear, and the bulb in the ceiling, bulging with yellow light, cast a kinder glow. Her hair was a mess, but she'd expected as much, having neglected to comb it for several days. Her cheeks seemed a little hollow, and she wasn't sure they'd ever round out again. Any remnants of childhood chubbiness were completely gone from her face—she was all angles and eyes now.

And her eyes—in a twisted way, she was glad it had been her ear and not her eyes that were disfigured. Her reasoning was only partly due to sight, though blindness to Verity was nearly as terrifying as deafness; her hazel eyes were the saving grace of her tired, haunted face. Her father had known her in a heartbeat, but would anyone else, without those eyes? Her fingers drummed against the sides of the sink as she leaned forward, studying her face. Her eyelashes seemed paler than she remembered, and she had a small freckle on her the left side of her neck, just under her jaw. The lashes she could blame on the cold of Bastogne, the freckle she could pinpoint to the sunny warmth of Austria. She didn't mind it, much. She still looked mostly like herself—well, the self she'd come to know during the war. She didn't look much like anything she'd been before. She was not the same, of that she had no doubt, but how much she wasn't the same had yet to be discovered.

Verity slipped her shirt off without much thought, but the mirror gave her pause yet again. She was thin, wasn't she? She'd always been slender, but this was skinny, this was thin. When she swiveled her torso far enough, she could see her ribs. Her chest, though—that was the crux of it all, wasn't it? Three years suddenly seemed like forever. Would she even remember how to breathe without all the binding? She'd been staring for quite some time when she finally reached up and ran her hands over the bandages. In a way, these were the last physical remnants she had of Gene. He'd given her these bandages two days before she left. She could still feel his fingers against hers and the kiss he pressed to her cheek as he handed them over, looking just a tiny bit worried as he always did when it came to her binding. Remembering that as she looked at herself in that upstairs bathroom mirror was the final push Verity needed. Unwrapping her chest was painful and slow, but she managed; once she'd got the bandages all the way off, she dropped them on the floor and looked at herself, fascinated by the strange thing in front of her. She felt almost detached from it, from that chest of hers, and she stepped back from the mirror, a little disoriented.

You'll never have to do that again. You can breathe freely now.

Her chest still felt tight.

It was the fifth day when Verity finally worked up the nerve to venture into town. She went with her father to breakfast at a local diner down by the lakeside. He drove; she looked out the window. Verity could see the arch of the cemetery over the crest of a hill and felt a pang of guilt. She'd been home almost a week and she had yet to visit her mother.

"We can stop by on the way home," her father suggested when he noticed her looking, and gratitude sagged Verity's shoulders.

At the diner, the music from the jukebox in the corner was louder than any conversation. The children were back to school and most of their parents were at work. There were a few patrons here and there, sequestered around what seemed to be their usual tables. A few glanced up when the bell above the door jingled, but no one looked long except a young man with a face full of freckles and a brown checkered bowtie. Verity stuck her hands in her pockets and shifted uncomfortably under his stare, and he soon looked away. The Riches had just been seated when a party of three approached, led by the same young man, and Verity prepared herself for a volley of unabashed questioning.

"Hey, uh... Rich!" exclaimed the young man, grabbing her hand and shaking it excitedly. "How's it goin'?"

"Um, it's, ah, good to be home," Verity answered rather awkwardly, assessing the group while her hand was preoccupied. Accompanying the chap in the bowtie were two young women, one in a blue baseball cap and a pretty yellow dress, and another in a red floral number that made Verity blush a little. The newly returned veteran recognized them vaguely, sure they'd gone to school together but not sure if they'd even been in the same year. The girl in the red dress conjured the name 'Marjorie', but Verity couldn't be sure.

"Of course!" The friendly fellow finally released her hand and gestured to the girls. "We thought it was you when you came in, and we wanted to say hello."

"Yes, it's awful good to see you," said might-be-Marjorie like they talked in the movies, and Verity got the impression it wasn't her usual voice.

"Nice to see you too... Marj."

The girl lit up and Verity almost sagged with relief to know she'd gotten the name right. The young man in the bowtie clapped once and stepped back, pointing to himself and his companions in turn.

"You remember us, right? From school. Marj, you know, and that's Tanya-"

"Hullo," said the girl in the baseball cap, who looked rather uninterested to be talking to Verity but polite enough to stay.

"-and you gotta remember me, I used to swing by your old man's shop every chance I got." Monty (who Verity did now recall) grinned. "He taught me everything I know about the trade."

"When I retire," Verity's father offered, "this young whippersnapper is going to get my shop."

"What about you, Rich?" Monty asked. "What'd you come back here for?"

In the middle of thanking their waitress and accepting the two coffees she offered as she did her best to reach around the three interlopers without spilling anything, Verity was late to look up and acknowledge the question.

"Hmm? Oh, um." She cleared her throat. "I just got back from Europe."

"From Europe!" Tanya gasped, abruptly invested in the conversation. "Well, shucks, you've gotta tell us all about it."

"Maybe I will, sometime," Verity said, hoping it didn't come across as a promise, because she really didn't want to socialize with these people who were more strangers than anything to her. "It's, uh... It would be a lot to cover right now. So."

"I'll say," Monty agreed, missing Tanya's look of disappointment. "Well, it was swell seeing you, Rich!" He pointed to her coffee. "Better drink that before it gets cold! Catch ya later!"

He started to bounce away, looping his arm around Tanya's, but Marjorie lingered, offering Verity a small smile.

"Thank you for your service, soldier," she said softly, and there was something in her eyes that Verity recognized: she had someone in the service who had yet to come home.

"Thanks," Verity replied, mustering a smile of her own, and with a nod, Marjorie turned and went with her friends.

"Marj, have I got the wrong memory in my head?" Tanya asked once she'd caught up, seeming to think that merely turning her back put her out of Verity's scope of hearing. "Don't Mr. Rich have a daughter, not a son?"

"What's it matter?" Marjorie giggled, lifting her dainty hand to her lips. "He's sure easy on the eyes."

Verity turned a little pink. Her father laughed into his coffee.

"You really have grown into a strapping young man," he told her with a fond wink.

"Oh, um..." Verity pressed her lips together, her brow creasing almost unnoticeably. "The thing is, Pa..."

Anxiety rising, she drummed her fingers against the side of her coffee cup. Her father waited patiently for her to arrange her thoughts into the words she needed to say.

"I don't think I want to be a man anymore—but I can't just let that part of me go. I've been... like that for more than three years. All my friends—well, not all, but most of them—know me that way."

Her father nodded but did not speak, reckoning (correctly) that Verity had more to say.

"But then there's the me I left back home, here, and I... I don't think I can be much of her again, either. I just... I feel so... confused."

After a moment of allowing her confession to set in, her father reached across the table and patted her hand.

"Whoever you are," he assured, "you're still my child. And I love you."

She hadn't noticed the sudden tears until one wetted her cheek, and she swiftly scrubbed it away with the cuff of her sleeve.

"I love you, too, Pa."

He nudged her boot under the table with his own and they exchanged a small smile.

"And whoever you are..." He leaned a bit across the table, his smile turning up on one side. "That young woman you went to school with keeps looking over at you."

Despite everything she'd been through and all the love she'd known, Verity's face still went red at the thought of a young anybody staring at her. She cleared her throat and poked at her eggs, and her father's chest rumbled with quieted amusement. Then, it hit her, and there went her fork, clattering against the plate—

"You knew?!"

Her father looked a little sheepish.

"I've known since you were eighteen."

"Wha- how?!"

Pursing his lips, he leaned back as if trying to remember the start of an old story buried in the annals of their family history and not something he'd experienced himself only five or so years ago.

"It was April, I think. April of 1940. I'd gotten an early start on spring cleaning, even though you always told me to wait for you so you could help. You were still at school for the day. I was moving a box without a lid out of the upstairs closet, and when it spilled, I found your letters to... Meg, was it?"

Verity flushed a deep pink, and across the diner—perhaps unrelated, perhaps not—Marjorie shrieked a noisy (but still sweet) laugh.

"Yeah," Verity confirmed softly, a long-forgotten face resurfacing. "Meg." A disbelieving laugh. "I still can't believe... You knew, and you-" Her incredulous smile dropped and she drew her head back, a little frightened. "You just teased me about it."

"I did."

"So you don't... mind?"

"Not one bit."

"You mean it?"

"You're my child," he repeated. "I love you."

Seeing Verity's bottom lip start to tremble as her eyes became wet, her father put down his coffee, jerked his chin at Marjorie, and asked a bit loudly, "Didn't they teach you how to flirt in the army?"

Relaxing, Verity laughed, relieved at the change in topic, knowing full well she'd probably start crying as soon as they got home and she was able to process properly that her father had known—and loved her yet—all these years.

"No, not really," she answered his light-hearted inquiry, and he quirked a curious brow.

"Not really?"

She opened her mouth to tell the story of Bill Guarnere and his infamous 'one-two' approach, but the tale never crossed her lips. A different name had come to mind that silenced all other introspections. She straightened up in her chair. Her father noticed and blinked at her, curious, inviting.

"Pa?"

"Yes?"

"I have something I oughta tell you."

He bobbed his chin. "Go on."

"I, um, I have a..."

What did she call him? Her boyfriend? Her steady? Her... fiancé?

My fiancé.

"While I was with Easy, I fell in love-" Courage swelled within her at the promise of a future with Gene. "-and he loves me, too. And, um, well, he wants to marry me. But he's gonna ask you, he promised he would, and he wants your blessing, and, so, uh..."

As she trailed off, he reached across the table and took her hand.

"Brandy."

She was a little too nervous to look up and face his reaction, whatever it was. When he squeezed her hand, she finally braved it, and she melted to see the tears brimming in his green eyes.

"I'm so happy for you," he choked out, and she could tell he meant it from the bottom of his heart.

Starting to feel a little teary-eyed herself, Verity got up and came over to her father's side of the table. She hugged him. He dabbed at his tears with his handkerchief, but he was smiling behind the white triangle of fabric. He seemed almost relieved. Verity, confused, tilted her head at him as she sat back down on her side of the booth.

"Pa." She waited until he looked up. "You don't seem all that surprised."

He put his handkerchief back in his pocket with one hand and took a sip of coffee with the other. Once he had swallowed, he began to nod.

"This morning," he told her, "I dropped my pencil while I was doing the crossword. When I got down on the floor to pick it up, I found a pocketknife wedged halfway under the sofa."

Verity's heart skipped a beat. She sucked in a breath through her teeth and the roof of her mouth momentarily tingled.

"A pocketknife?"

"It must have fallen out of your pack that first night you were home... Or, more likely, the next morning."

When a mug shattered and I panicked, but you were there, and it was all alright.

"Can I see it?"

He smiled. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew the pocketknife Verity had envisioned. Seeing it here and now made her feel as if someone had taken a bucket full of every emotion she'd experienced in the last three years and upended it into her chest. She became acutely aware of her breathing as her father held the pocketknife out to her.

"There are two letters engraved on it. Initials."

"E.R.," Verity read aloud, knowing the letters by heart without having to look at them. Her eyes were hazy and wet. She accepted the pocketknife and cradled it to her chest, beginning to cry.

"E.R.," her father repeated softly.

"Yes," she whispered. "Eugene. His name is Eugene."

"I think he loves you very much."

"I think so, too." She looked at the knife. "I... I didn't know he put it in there." A frown creased her brow. "Why didn't you give it to me sooner?"

"I only found it this morning," he reminded her, and she blushed, conceding her mistake. "I was going to put it on your dresser, but then I saw the name..."

"You were waiting for me to tell you whose it was."

"Yes. And I didn't want to bring it up because I wasn't sure if this E.R., whoever he was, was still alive."

A small smile crept upon her lips, equally as sweet as it was sad.

"He made it through," she assured, though the phrase made her cracked heart blister in several places for those who hadn't. "We both did."

They left the diner right around noon, just as the place started filling up at the start of the lunch rush. Monty and his friends were long gone, but they'd been kind enough to wave to Verity on their way out, even Tanya (and especially Marjorie). Her father kept to his earlier proposal and drove a little further downtown to the old flower shop where Verity had once worked. Knowing the owner would no doubt recognize her (and not sure if she was ready for that kind of conversation), Verity stayed in the car while her father picked out a wreath. It was a nice thing, made of woven pine and Alstroemeria, and although it was the middle of September, it seemed almost Christmasy to Verity. She knew the pine would help it last longer, and that made sense for where she meant to put it, so she thanked her father and laid it in her lap, not minding the pine needles shedding all over her pants.

There wasn't another soul in sight at the cemetery. Maybe it was too nice a day for grieving, with the sun out and the last of a Winnipesaukee summer blowing on the breeze. Verity didn't have to look at the stones to find her way to her mother's. Her father hung back a few feet. Something about the way he stood told her he'd been here recently; though she couldn't have known it, Nicholas had come to his wife's gravestone the morning Verity slept in 'til noon and wept into the dirt. Often, in those three lonely years, he'd gone and asked the headstone above his wife's grave if she'd seen Verity somewhere out there, on the earth or in the sky. It would take years for him to realize that Verity, as a paratrooper, had frequented both. But he didn't need to ask anymore. There would be no more waiting and praying in total radio silence, no more anxiety-riddled hoping that Verity had not gone to join Marguerite wherever she was now. The war was over and his daughter was home.

"Hey, Moms," Verity said, and that was all she could get out for a good five minutes, falling into silent tears as she knelt on the sun-warmed earth with the wreath in her lap, staring at the name etched before her. After a time, she wiped her tears with her sleeve, took a deep breath, and leaned the pine and Alstroemeria against the headstone, secured against the wind by a small rock.

"Hey, Moms," she repeated, clasping her hands upon her lap. "I made it back. How 'bout that?"

She looked over at her father, who had wandered off toward the aspen grove on the edge of the property. He had his thumbs tucked in his belt loops and was whistling a tune he'd taught Verity on the harmonica many years ago: "It’s A Long Way to Tipperary".

"You heard my promise, didn't you?" she asked her mother, still watching her father. "Back on that train to Toccoa. Not that I knew what I was getting myself into. But I promised Pa I'd see him again before I could-" 

She broke off, tears trickling down her cheeks and choking up her throat.

"Before I could hug you again," she finished, then dropped her head. "I sure would like to hug you. Just once. Just to let you know I'm still here."

She shifted on her knees, feeling her lower legs start to go numb from how she was sitting on them.

"I miss you," she said, soft enough that her voice was almost carried away by the breeze. "Pa does too. But hey..."

She leaned forward and dusted a few tiny fragments of splintered stone off the top of the headstone, reigning in her grief before it could flatten her to the ground. She wasn't sure she was ready to let her father see her like that. To be honest, she was a little afraid it might break his heart.

"If you see any of my buddies up there," she whispered at last, "like Skip or Penkala or- or Hoobs—tell 'em hello for me, won't you? Tell 'em hello. Tell 'em I miss them. Tell 'em..."

Verity heard a loud sniffle and looked over at her father. He was watching her with tears in his eyes. She knew he hadn't heard her, but still... She lifted her hand and he started over at once, pushing his hands into his pockets almost exactly the same as Verity had done for the last three years. She turned back to the headstone and adjust the wreath just slightly so one of the red flowers was centered below her mother's name. A deep breath in, a long exhale out, and her grief abated. A smile crossed her lips, and she leaned forward, laying her palm on the top of the stone.

"Tell 'em I'm gonna be okay."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1/15 updates left.

[fficway]

I had to put this somewhere as this has been living rent free in my head for the past week, so here it is:

Obey Me Brothers, and Their Preferred Sexual Positions/Kinks!

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

This is written as headcannons and MC is Gender Neutral!

Lucifer:

Firstly, Lucifer is definitely a switch.

He's a dominant person normally, but during Guest Appearances he enjoys when MC whips him, AND he's always willing to call MC "Master" when it comes up

Next, when everyone was sucked into Levi's game, Lucifer skipped classes because Diavolo wasn't in that world and he enjoyed the freedom

SO!! This makes me think he has fantasies of slacking off from his work as he pleasures you 👀

Specifically: it gives him a rush knowing that he's purposely not working just to fuck you, with the possibility of getting caught any time!

If you fuck in his office, he's the dom, no question!

He is still a work driven demon, so it would take some time pushing his buttons to get him to that point of abandoning his responsibilities

You do so by teasing him or by playing the sexy aloof card to get him almost drooling

If you fail, the worst that would happen is he would dismiss you from his office and punish you later in the bedroom when he's finished.

But if you succeed...

Your prize (punishment) will be Lucifer's favorite position:

You splayed across his desk, papers scattered everywhere as he rails you!

He'll first lock the door to give you a "proper lecture," and the look in his eye would make your lovely areas heat with excitement

He'll have you bent over his desk, pounding into you while lecturing you

Throwing in some degradation and spanking as he pleases (and it pleases you)

He loves to hear you get loud with his name on your tongue. He wants everyone in the House of Lamentation to KNOW your his, and being fucked good in his office.

Its also a dare for anyone to try to interrupt the two of you and reap the consequences

I repeat: Purposely slacking off from his work to rail you is such a rush for him

Of course, he also enjoys being pleasured from you under his desk as he works too ;)

For the Bedroom: I think Lucifer would def have a bondage kink (you or him wearing it, it doesn't matter to him!)

He is responsible with the after care as well!

Mammon:

It's literally a character trait of his that he's greedy. I mean, he IS the Avatar of Greed!

He's also a Tsundere who gets flustered easily!

So, Mammon always wants more of everything! You give him a kiss on the cheek, he'll want one on the mouth.

"How do you expect that to be enough to satisfy the great Mammon! That isn't nearly enough" (of course he says this with a blush as his Tsundere self can't just ASK for another kiss!)

So you give him a kiss on the lips.

"More"

Then another.

"More"

Then some tongue action.

"More"

Then his kisses will wander to your neck.

"More. I want all of you MC. Every inch. I want you to be mine"

HOWEVER! He would never push you to do anything you don't want to do or aren't ready for!!

Now going onto his favorite position 😏

Its canon that he likes to have things easily without having to work, so he'd love it if you ride him from on top!

He loves where he can see as much of you as possible! He wants to take all of you in!

Mammon is very vocal about what he wants from you during your sexy time!

As for his bedroom talk, his tsundere self would normally beat around the bush when he's trying to be honest, but once he's in an intimate position with you, he'd be showering you with all of the secret thoughts and feelings he has of you that he'd normally hide!

His hands would wander every inch as he'd praise your body

He would kiss you where he could and tell you about how much he adores you

When you talk to him, he'd definitely have a praise kink!

Being lectured by his brothers all the time just gets frustrating to him, and even if it were consensual, he wouldn't prefer being degraded sexually because this is the moment when he's the most honest and vulnerable with you

(Though I'm not saying he wouldn't like it every now and then 👀)

If you told him how great he is, and how amazing he makes you feel, he would be THRILLED

He wants you to feel as amazing as you are

He would be vocal through the entire thing, but as for volume, even though he normally has a loud mouth, he'd probably keep it down as he wouldn't want Lucifer interrupting you two 😂

Mammon on top would definitely bring out his true demon form, and he'd get more bossy with telling you what "more" he wants from you ;)

Of course he would push for aftercare in the most tsundere way

"You probably can't walk after I made you feel so good, so let me get what you need to clean up" (Face RED)

He loves cuddles and for you to fall asleep on his chest :3

(He also totally drools in his sleep!)

Leviathan:

This Otaku would totally be into role playing xD

Would have you dress as one of his favorite characters (if you're willing)

At first he'd be so out of it trying to comprehend if this blessing of you in front of him is real life or not before ending up too nervous to do much at first.

So, you end up with a foreplay reward system as he plays his video games to comfortably ease into it!

The more he wins, the more action he gets ;D

From kissing, to groping, to giving him a blow job as he plays his games until he can't take it

Which leads to his favorite:

Shower Sex!

As Leviathan, the aquatic demon, he'd feel most comfortable (and feel like you have more privacy)

To him it feels like he gets to be closer to you

He loves to be able to touch you all over as you fuck

This boy is LOUD!!

"UUUAAAAAUUUGGH!!"

(This is canon, we all know this xD)

As for vocal kinks, this Otaku would probably love it if you used allusions to his favorite games in some sexy way

"Like Ezio, I'm great from behind and above"

"I know my way around the cleft of dimension, want me to show you?"

"Are you up for a little tactical insertion?"

He'd also love skinny dipping and fucking you in pools and lakes too for sure! ;3

You can clean up easily in the shower afterwards!

Cuddles!!! (You replace his body pillow! What a privilege!)

Asmodeus:

It is no question this man has a LOT of experience

He loves it every which way and more!

He's all for the Vanilla but LIVES for the kinky stuff

Praise kink to the GODS!

As long as you're admiring him, he is happy!

He doesn't need a scene set to get to business, he's ready to go anytime!

Which is why its more than likely his favorite sex is Public Sex.

He loves to share with the world the art of sex and the beauty that is the two of you in intercourse!

This of course would depend on your comfort! If you wanted to keep your sexual encounters private, he would oblige!

He's a pleaser!!

He loves admiration, and he loves sex, so as long as you're happy with how he's fucking you, and you're vocal about it, he is pleased himself!

Position-wise, I think whatever is your favorite is what he'd be ready and willing to do!

Basically any and every kink he loves, and is more than willing to be the top or bottom!

He can go for MANY rounds!

((@mogmoe drew their headcanon for what the brothers' tongues would look like while in their full demon forms and gave Asmo tentacle tongue so do with that as you will ;3))

(Sorry this seems kinda vague but I mean anything you can think of he's probably already done it and more, and enjoys every bit of it!)

Satan:

With how this man wants to be seen as an individual and not just a prior part of Lucifer, he wants to be SEEN during sex!

He's a dom! He can blush and act shy and all normally, but in the bedroom he is totally dominant!

Would definitely have some hot angry sex with you given his temper!

Pushing you up against a wall and fucking you stupid

Splay you across his book clad floor or toss you on the bed to rail you

But you always have to be looking at him!

"Who's the one fucking you right now?"

Loves hearing you say his name!

He'll kiss you every time just to taste his name coming off of your tongue

He also reads a ton of books, so this man has read his fair share about how to pleasure his partner properly ;)

No matter if you're on the bed or against the wall, you have to stay wrapped around him!

He wants to know how much you want him!

He'll deny you your orgasm to make you beg him and say his name

He'll eventually let you have your relief and loves if you'll hold him close as you do

Sweet forehead kisses after you both finish as he praises you

Proper aftercare! Whatever you need, he's sweetly obliging

He'll love to fall asleep in your arms! :)

Beelzebub:

First of all, this man almost never stops eating

He'll give you plenty of affection, but he'll usually be stuffing his mouth or snacking as he does.

But he's not neglectful! It's just his nature as the Avatar of Gluttony that he's always hungry!

So you play into this so that he enjoys the process as you get him in the mood 👀

Using whatever treat you like to eat, you eat it in front of him, but only have the smallest portion possible (for example, maybe just two or three pieces of candy)

Of course he'll ask for a piece, so that's when you'll hit him with "Oh I'm sorry Beel, but that was the last one"

Before he has a chance to get sad about it (or you can wait until he pouts since he's adorable) you offer to share the last piece

Naturally he'll want to share it

But its already in your mouth ;)

He'll shyly kiss you to get a taste of the treat off your lips

"So soft"

He'll kiss you again, but this time with a flick of his tongue

He'll make another remark, but this time about the taste of the treat

"I want to taste more"

Cue the tongue action!

If the treat is still in your mouth, prepare to fight to keep it

If it isn't still in your mouth, he'll explore every inch to taste what's left of it

This man uses his mouth muscles to eat pounds of food every day, so he is a fantastic kisser!

He'll get so invested in the taste of you that he forgets about the treat altogether

This is where it gets steamy 😏

He wants his mouth everywhere

On your neck

Your chest

Your shoulders

Your stomach

There's not much sex talk from him because his mouth is always busy on you, but he makes plenty of comments to compliment you and your body!

Eventually, he'll want to taste the best parts of you 😏

His favorite: having his mouth on your nether regions ;)

He'll get so invested that he'll accidentally transform into his true demon form

((@mogmoe 's headcanon for Beel's tongue while in his true form was large like the size of a cow's tongue, so I'm playing off that!))

If you're a person with a vagina, his large tongue will be pumping in and out to taste every inch of your walls/If you're a person with a penis, he'll suck you like a popsicle to get your juices, and you know he can deep throat with no issue

If you like getting your ass eaten, he'll do that too

All the while you hold onto his horns like handle bars as he works his magic tongue and mouth

He doesn't have a preference for how you talk during sex, but if you praise him, it would definitely make him happy and encourage him to do more for you!

If you want to get him off too, he definitely loves 69ing!!

It feels to him as if you're both sharing a meal together, but in a more special and intimate way!

Afterwards, he would be super sleepy. He'd pull you close and be like a very large teddy bear cuddling up to you.

(Though he would wake up later for some midnight snacks!)

Belphegor:

I can already tell you now: Lazy Fucking!

This man loves to cuddle as much as possible!

He'll sleep with his head in your lap, he'll fall asleep on your shoulder, he'll spoon you (little or big, it doesn't matter to him!)

If he wants to get steamy after waking up with his head in your lap, he'll start to work with his mouth as his face is already down there

If he wakes up with his head on your shoulder, he'll start lazily kissing along your neck

During cuddling, his hands will mindlessly wander. He may reach back to get handsy if he's the little spoon. Or he might grind on you a little while kissing your neck from behind if he's the big spoon.

But his favorite: lazily fucking you from behind

Laying on top of you, his chest pressed to your back, his hand intertwined with yours, all as his dick slowly pumps in and out of you

He would whisper sweet praises to you, maybe tell you about what he dreamed while he was asleep!

His other hand would help to assist with your pleasure.

He probably would be too tired for aftercare, but for you he's always willing to do it!

Of course more cuddling will follow!

-

I dont know if it's obvious but I'm still kinda new to Obey Me! I'm in chapter/lesson 13, so if some of these seem OOC, please let me know! This is my first time publishing headcanons, or rather any of my writing in general, so let me know what you think!

[happy-tree-friends-imagines]

Soft - (THG) Haymitch X Me

Hello again everyone. I know I’ve been gone for awhile now and I know some of you have been worried. I have to admit that I haven’t been feeling the best lately but I don’t really want to go into detail with that right now. I just feel like I need a little softness, so that’s what I’m going to write.

(And here I am… almost more than a year later, after I wrote this, finally posting it. Not that I needed to. Because these are really just for myself and for me to process all of these things going on in my own life. But if there is even one person that reads these, if there’s even one person that can relate to this… if posting this can help comfort even one more person other than myself, then it’s all worth it. But even then... I realize that I need this. But if you need it too, then go on ahead and keep reading. I hope we both find what we’re looking for...)

Enjoy~

The room was dark and just the slightest bit stuffy. It smelled like a burnt-out lavender-scented candle, it’s smoke still gently drifting throughout the room though it had been blown out hours ago. The man checked to be sure, pressing a fingerprint into the semi-hard wax, before he came to the bedside.

If he hadn’t known any better, he would have guessed that there were only blankets and pillows piled up there. But he did know better and he sat down on the edge of the bed with the utmost care he could manage, reaching a hand out to pat at the head-shaped lump tucked safely underneath the thick covers.

Haymitch gave a smile at the figure. “Hey, doll. Time to get up.” The figure didn’t move except for the constant rise and fall of where the girl’s stomach should be.

“Sky…” he called, to no response. Haymitch rolled his eyes, just barely concealing his playful scoff, and moved to gently shake her awake.

The blankets shifted slightly as the low growl of distaste for being woken up at such an hour sounded. Haymitch waited patiently, watching in amusement as the figure of a girl turned away from him beneath the covers, sending a pillow or two to the floor as she went.

“Time to get up,” he repeated.

“Why?” came the muffled groan.

Haymitch resisted rolling his eyes once more, choosing to gently poke at her sides instead. “‘Cause, doll. You need to get up. Just because there’s a pandemic going on doesn’t mean you can just lay in bed all day.”

Sky tried and failed to suppress her laugh from the attack at her sides. But even when Haymitch ceased, she still did not come out from under the covers.

“Come on,” Haymitch tried to nudge her along to no avail.

“Uh-uh,” she hummed. “I’m too tired.”

The man paused at this, eyebrows furrowing in worry. “What time did you go to bed?”

Sky gave a quiet sound that meant “I don’t know”, shifting beneath the covers once more. When he didn’t respond, she carefully drew the blankets down from her face, revealing tousled hair and squinted eyes.

His face was drawn up in worry, causing Sky to frown. Slowly, she reached her arms from beneath the covers, the chill of the early morning giving her goosebumps. Her hands came to gently grasp at his, holding onto him with a weak squeeze, as her strength had not woken yet.

“Lay with me?” she asked quietly. “Please? Just a few more minutes.” Her eyes were sad and glossy in the dim light, and Haymitch found it harder and harder not to comply with her wish.

With a last little sigh, Haymitch gave a tired smile and nodded. Sky soon found herself smiling back. She shifted backwards to give him more room next to her and practically pulled him into her.

The blankets were too soft to resist as they fell around the defeated man, hugging to him the warmth of sleep and the even warmer hands of the girl. “You’re cold,” she complained weakly, folding herself into his arms. Her head found the crook in his neck to nuzzle into, her hands intertwining with themselves behind his back, and then, tangled their legs together.

Haymitch waited for her to get comfortable before adjusting his arms around her. Carefully, gently, he placed one hand on her back, drawing slow lines up and down her form with his finger tips. He turned his other hand up from beneath her head, pulling her closer into him if that were even possible. But he could try.

They laid there within each other for what felt like an eternity. Haymitch felt his eyes growing heavy. Sky’s warmth finally flooded his own body with a comfort he didn’t think was possible from anyone else. Still, he fought sleep. Waiting.

And finally, she spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

Haymitch’s eyes flew open, glancing down at her messy blonde locks tucked beneath his chin. “What do you have to be sorry for, Doll?” His voice was barely above a whisper, trying not to scare her away. “‘Not your fault this world is all… messed up,” he chose his words carefully.

What exactly do you call this? Sickness and panic… every little thing spiraling out of control… meanwhile everyone is expected to act like it’s all okay. Sky was expected to keep everything running smoothly within her own life as well as everyone else’s. Being deathly sick for weeks on end, but thankfully, somehow not contracting the deadly virus claiming life after life outside the walls of her home. Then, being jutted into college life by herself, having no way to know what was going to happen next. Left alone with no true friends, family being hours away, stuck in a place she didn’t feel like she truly belonged. A trespasser. Being expected to pass online classes and hopefully get into vet school within the next four years or so and if not…. What was all of this for?

To make matters worse… losing another beloved pet… Buddy… the last precious thing her family had of her Uncle… it was, is, too much. Too much once again and all at once. Expectations… even though there is an entire pandemic happening, never cease to exist. The emotional and mental toll it was taking… Haymitch couldn’t even begin to imagine.

“I’m sorry I might not be the best like everyone expects me to be,” she said, “I just don’t want anyone to be disappointed in me.”

“I’m trying…” she continued, “I really am trying. Everything is everywhere and everything’s happening… I’m sorry there isn’t more I can do to help. I wish I could try harder…” She trailed off, refusing to look up at him, afraid of what his eyes would tell her when she did.  

“I just need you to hold me… just for a little bit. Just for awhile longer. Please.”

Haymitch didn’t say anything for a moment. He could feel her tensing, feel her pushing her face harder into him to keep herself from releasing all of these emotions all at once, trying her hardest to not let everything come out all at once and all together.

She had spent too long trying to be everything for everyone. When all she really wanted… all she really needed was for someone to be there for her… to offer a moment to be soft.

“Okay,” he said at last.

With a final adjustment, Haymitch leaned so he could press his lips into the crown of her head. His hand began drawing circles along her back in a soothing motion. And so he held her close.

The bed remained unmade, the blinds drawn. The sun lazily rose above the horizon, turning the few strands of light that leaked in from red to orange to a soft white color that cast themselves across the bed which once again looked as if there were only pillows and blankets piled there. And if one didn’t know better, they’d think there was nothing there at all. The quiet was welcomed. And the two slept comfortably in each other's arms for as long as they needed, for once dreaming of nothing at all, relishing in the sweet release of sweet nothings and pure softness.

“You don’t have to always be strong for everyone, Sky,” Haymitch whispered as her breaths slowed and their warmth enveloped each other.

“You are allowed to be soft~”

[ithinkabouthowtothink]

Birthday

What a birthday morning with Drew looks like.

Warnings: mentions of sex, foreplay

Drew always slept in later than you. Doesn’t matter how early you both went to bed either. But you didn’t last night. His old night stand clock read ‘2:38’ when you drifted off in Drew’s arms after taking turns on top.

Watching him sleep with his plump lips parted just a hair, breathing quietly as you propped your head on your hands. His light brown hair going in three different directions atop his pillow. He is surely getting that much needed rest after last night. His closed eye lids showcase thin red and blue like veins above his dark lashes. You always envied how beautiful and long his eye lashes have always been while you feel like you spend a full half hour in the mirror at times getting them almost equal to his natural ones.

His favorite breakfast is coffee and a menthol cigarette. That’s exactly what you could start his day with. Then a game of mini golf over at the carnival set up in mid-fall downtown. Finishing the day with the art museum and late drinks with friends. All of it a surprise for his birthday.

Your eyes flicked over to the clock on his nightstand, it displaying ‘10:14’ in red box numbers. You leaned down and pecked his soft lips in an attempt to not wake him up yet until his coffee was in hand. He smiled against your lips and deepened the kiss. You laughed as his arms wrapped around your bare back flipping you under him. He smoothed out your hair around your face looking in your eyes. You didn’t want to wake him up but this way is no complaint.

“Hi birthday boy.” You laughed as he kissed your neck.

“Mmhm, so do I get a wish?” His deep morning voice sending waves down your spine.

You moved your shoulder up to your neck in an attempt to not squirm under his ticklish touch.

“That depends if you can keep your hands to yourself until tonight.” You say through laughs as he tickles your sides.

Drew kisses your neck and moves his hands to your hips as he presses your naked lower half into the mattress. His tongue swirls lightly against your collar bone and you try to not give in so easily.

“Well what kind of birthday wish would I make then?” Drew smiles through small kisses lined along your neck. He blows cool breath along the kisses left behind and you swallow hard.

It takes every nerve in you to grab his face to stop his loving touches. Your thighs ache as he stills and smiles down at you. Drew draws a knee between your legs and parts them slowly. You bring your knees up as Drew positions himself on your sweet spot.

“Hey, I have so much planned today. We should get ready. We were up all night anyway.” You softly whine hoping he listens. Plans are important to you, especially being on time for his birthday plans. Being in his arms it’s easy to lose track of the world around you.

Drew laughs as he leans into your lips and you can feel how ready he is. You’re just as prepared, wanting him. You are both well aware in one swift hip adjustment you’ll be attached more comfortably. You wrap your arms around his neck and play with the hair resting at the nape of his neck. Both of your eyes locked and your chest weighing in love as you take in this moment with him.

“It can wait a few more minutes, yeah?” Drew matches his lips against yours and you take a deep breath repeating last nights events.

[chiliiscereal]

Okay, apparently my brain has nothing better to do, so I got a SINGLE prompt for ya. U ready?

...✨Living with the turtles✨

Rottmnt headcanon: living with the turtles

———

-living with the turtles is both fun and... not XD

-lets be really, Mikeys an early bird!

-you simply can’t sleep in past 8 there’s just no way

-Mikey wakes up every morning like it’s Christmas

-“there’s stuff to do today! You can’t be a slug and stay in bed! Move move move!”

-lots of jumping on your bed until you wake up

-usually everyone eating breakfast together is not a thing, as everyone is usually doing their own thing

-but if you cook anything you better be ready for all the turtles to ask for some

-you’re also now the honorary judge for literally every single competition

-need someone to judge who can do the best kick flip?

-you’re their human

-need someone to see who can balance more fridge items on your chin?

-there you are

-lots of working with splinter in that field

-you’re also the one who anyone else goes to for validation

-for some reason you can’t understand, they can never compliment each other’s work

-“hey I need you to look this over, tell me if there’s anything wrong with it, possibly-.”

-“compliment you about your work?”

-“well, if you insist.”

-will drag you to his lab or drag his lab work to you so you can admire it

-doesn’t matter if you’re reading or sleeping

-when he’s ready for you to see it then you’re ready to see it

-“it’s literally 1 am.”

-“come on get up I need you to compliment my work!”

-“alright just stop pulling on me!”

-as for GIVING attention he’s not very good at it

-he’ll try, that’s for sure

-but heaven knows he won’t compliment you to your face

-the only physical affection you receive is if he goes to you first for help

-“I only need you because I need you to hold these wires and you have more fingers than you know what to do with.”

-it’s not just Donnie though.

-it’s Mikey as well

-“look at what I drew!”

-“wow this is awesome! How long did it take?”

-“oh... about an hour?”

-“that’s really good!”

-“really?”

-will even ask you to put it on the fridge

-you give in and get a bulletin board in your room for him to pin all his work

-it’s covered with his drawings by the end of the week

-needs lots and lots of hugs

-randomly jumps on your back for a piggy back ride

-you gotta be ready for him at any given moment or else you’re both gonna end up on the floor

-and who could forget Leo

-not you that’s for sure

-he’s make sure you’d never forget he needed attention

-Leo’s definetely the type of guy to get ready to pull a stunt and dedicate it to you before doing it

-“for Y/n’s honor!”

-“Leo you’re gonna break you’re neck if you do that!”

-“it’s for your honor so it’s okay!”

-jumps out from every corner to scare you

-can never seem to get you to flinch

-this boy’s gonna get you to jump one day though

-don’t be surprised if he walks up next to you and just casually rests his elbow on your head or drapes an arm over your shoulder

-will randomly poke your side just to see you jump

-Raphs no better than his brothers in the attention department

-especially with weight lifting

-“5...6...7 *notices you walk in* 37...38...39...”

-he doesn’t go around giving affection like Leo and Mikey though

-his love language is helping with anything you need, such as as helping you reach a high shelf

-very comfortable just picking you up and moving you out of the way

-doesn’t matter if it’s to get you out of danger or if you’re blocking his way to the pizza that just arrived

-only responsible roommate out of the four

-only one that washes the dishes

-video games all the time

-you can’t live with the turtles without liking video games

-you and Mikey bake and cook all the snacks for video game night

-of course, Leo also has a rivalry with you

-not one like the old rivalry between Leo and Raph in other versions no no

-it’s the playful “hey wanna take me in hockey? I bet I’ll wiiiiinnnn~” or “I’m gonna best you at this and you’re gonna go crying to splinter!”

-winner gets bragging rights

- you also can’t live in the lair without being besties with April

-come on, she’s cool as hell!

-she’s the one you talk to about human problems or just complaining about the turtles in general

-nosey boys

-very very nosey

-there’s no way to have secrets in this lair

-you have a diary?

-expect Leo to go through it in one night

-you read fanfiction or write fanfiction?

-oh Donnies keeping tabs on each chapter

-he’s updated all your tech, he can definetely see what you look up and access it from his computer

-hey, living with them isn’t always going to be sunshine and rainbows

-you’ll always find Mikey in your room admiring any decorations or books

-he’s constantly borrowing your stuff and not asking

-Raph is probably the only one that understands personal space

-...unless it comes to him worrying about you when you leave the lair

-will text you all the time, asking if you’re okay, even if you’re just hanging with a friend or going to the store

-since they always invade your privacy, they always know if you aren’t feeling okay

-the moment you step foot in the lair they’re asking what happened

-and if you try to say there’s nothing wrong oh ho ho ho you’re in for it

-Donnie is pulling up articles, Mikey is bugging you, Leo is trying to activate his face man powers, and Raph is sitting in front of you and asking what’s up

- the only privacy invading they do that you actually enjoy is when you’re in your room at like, midnight, watching a movie

-you’ll be watching peacefully and then Mikey just appears in the doorway

-he’s got blankets and he’s got snacks

-you just wave him over and let him sit on your bed

-then Leo shows up, no offering other than his presence

-don’t bother trying to push him away he’s gonna watch that movie with you and Mikey even if it kills him

-once you three are settled, Donnie shows up with a movie projector so you don’t have to watch on a tiny phone

-he ends up staying, even though he denied that he would

-Raph shows up with pillows for everyone, the only turtle to actually ASK to join

-you can’t say no to the giant teddy bear

-you may have started off by yourself in your dark room but you ended in a giant cuddle puddle with your roommates

-sometimes though you don’t have time to hang out with them

-school

-school happens

-you have to deny them because of homework

-Mikey will help you with flash cards, decorating them so they’re fun and make learning interesting

-Donnie studies with you and probably knows the material better

-he’ll help you so it’ll be over faster

-Raph is simply your company

-he’ll sit quietly in your room and play relaxing music, offering any advice or comments he had

-Leo just tries to convince you to ignore it

-it’ll still be there tomorrow! As of right now, he needs you to watch the skating tournament with him

-once you’ve got everything done you’re immediately dragged into whatever shenanigans they’ve got going on

-you’re also the self appointed camera man, using your phone to capture every harebrained plan AND failure

-living with them isn’t always sunshine and rainbows, but it sure is never boring

Sorry this is all I got!

If anyone has any headcanon or oneshot requests send em my way!

[spencerreidsconverse]

When Evil Doesn't Sleep

summary: Spencer has been gone far too long on a case and when he finally returns home, reader shows him just how much she missed him.

word count: 3.4k

warnings: smut, implied dom/sub undertones, pet names

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Female Reader

A/N: My first fic!!! I hope you all enjoy! <3

“Y/n I’m really sorry but it looks like the case is going to take a lot longer than we thought. We had a recent development and the profile is now pointing to a partnership so now we’re hunting down two unsubs”. You sighed as Spencer rattled off his apologies through the phone before putting him out of his misery “Spencer honey, you don’t have to apologize. Quit worrying about me and focus on catching the bad guys.”

To say you missed Spencer would be the understatement of the century. He had been in Utah for six days already and now with a pair of psychos your odds of finding him in your bed by the end of the week were growing increasingly slim. It didn’t help that you had been swamped prepping for an extra class you’d agreed to take on at Georgetown where you worked as a Criminal Psychology professor. Between both of your hectic work schedules you hadn’t had a real weekend to yourselves in a few months, and while you knew when you first started dating Spencer that it was an inevitable of his job, it had never been this crazy before. They say evil never sleeps but lately it hasn't even taken a catnap.

“I love you Y/N. I promise I’ll come home to you soon and take you out on a real date. I’m sorry darling, I have to go. I’ll text you when I get to the hotel tonight and if you’re still up we can talk for a bit okay?”. “Alright Spence, I love you too. Stay safe okay?”. “I promise, goodbye love.”

Your farewell barely made it past your lips when the dial tone cut you off and once again your boyfriend of three years vanished from your side of the country. You let out an exasperated sigh before reminding yourself that there were other people who needed his help and that you could wait for his attention - at least until that night. Continuing the trek up the stairs of your and spencer’s shared apartment, you managed to haphazardly balance your grocery bags in one hand while unlocking the door and disabling the security alarm, internally cringing at the high shriek that rattled through your brain.

Walking through the living room, you sat the bags on your kitchen counter and began reorganizing the small fridge space to fit all the perishables you had brought home, absentmindedly hoping they wouldn't spoil now that it would be just you for several more days. Moving to the cupboard you replaced the few grab and go snack boxes you had made up to try and encourage Spencer to eat more throughout the day and refilled the paper plate stash that quickly became a requirement after you realized neither one of you could tolerate doing dishes every night. You ripped open the cardboard packaging of yet another microwave dinner and set the timer before leaving to change into more comfortable attire.

Opening the door of your shared bedroom, the smell of vanilla wax melts and dryer sheets hit you like a brick and immediately sent a pang of loneliness through your chest. Spencer was usually around by the time the chores needed done, and you rarely had to do them yourself. Unfortunately, the laundry was piling up and you needed something to distract you so you spent the day running errands and cleaning the apartment more thoroughly than necessary. You walked over to the stack of black dresser drawers and pulled out the first pair of pajama pants you touched, Spencer’s old caltech sweats that now fit you far better than him considering he had received them when he was 14. They looked more like capris on him now and it was embarrassingly difficult to convince him to buy a new pair that fit him properly. You slipped on a tank top and pulled your hair back before making your way lazily to the bathroom to take off the remnants of your simple makeup.

After scrubbing your face clean and pulling your dinner out, you moved to ready the couch for yet another night of binge watching cheesy 90s movies. You selected Clueless and watched the vibrant colors pop across the screen while you dived into your meal, making a poor attempt to ignore the slight freezer burnt taste that lingered after every bite. You finished your dinner and set the bowl aside before covering yourself with a blanket and allowing yourself to sink into the cushions, desperately awaiting Spencer's text.

You were jolted out of your doze by the loud buzzing of your phone against the wooden coffee table. Clumsily you reached for it and managed to swipe the answer pad before it sent your genius to voicemail. “Hello?” you managed before a yawn ripped its way through you suddenly. “Hey Y/N, I’m sorry it’s so late. I didn't mean to wake you, I figured you’d still be up. You should go back to bed love.” For the first time, you noticed the neon green numbers on the microwave. 12:30. You stifled another yawn and shook your head in an effort to wake yourself further “No way, I just dozed off while watching a movie. I was waiting to talk to you. Besides, I’m up now anyways so you might as well stay on with me for a bit. Did you get any further today?” “Well, JJ had the idea that the partners were originally a typical dominant/submissive partnership but that something in the dynamic must have changed because the MO began to deteriorate. We think the partners must have split up now, because we’re finding similar pieces of the previous MO at separate crime scenes.”.

You processed the information he fed you slowly due to your semiconscious state but eventually you put your words in order well enough to respond. “That should be helpful though yeah? I mean, they’re used to working in a partnership so being suddenly separated from your other half so to speak would throw you off track quite a bit right?”. You could practically hear him smiling through the phone as you drew the conclusions the team had come to only a few hours prior. “Yes. We’re hoping to be able to draw them out and trap them. Play them against each other.”.”Does that mean I can stop sleeping on the couch soon?”. You heard him let out a dejected sigh - you knew he hated that you would force yourself onto the cramped couch when you had a king sized bed a few hundred feet away but he understood.

When he had come home in the early hours of the morning after an abrupt end to a case a few weeks after you had moved into his place, he had caught you curled up on the sofa with a throw pillow stuffed under your head. When he questioned you about it the next morning, you simply answered that the bed felt too big without him and that you couldn’t stand the empty feeling. “Sooner than later I hope my love. Y/N I really wish you wouldn’t do that to yourself. It’s horrible for your body. It can put you at a much higher risk for chronic back and neck pain as well as-”. “Spence. I’m not a giant like you are. I fit on the couch much better than you do, and I barely notice the difference.”. You both cringed, hearing the lie clear in your voice. Still, Spencer must have felt bad because he humored you. “If you're sure. What did you do today my love?”. You smiled sadly hearing in his voice just how desperate he was to escape from his reality and come home to you.

”Well, I straightened the house. In fact, it’s so clean i think we could use it as a sterilization room.”. He let out a soft chuckle and you could hear him begin to relax as you recounted the rest of your day, excluding the part about the microwave dinner. Spencer loved to tell you how many of the ingredients were one step away from processed garbage and you decided to opt out of the lecture for the evening. He had more than enough to worry about without having to focus on your diet while he was away. After a half hour of light conversation, a loud yawn betrayed you as you were excitedly discussing the cute puppy you had met on the way to the market. Spencer immediately requested that you hang up and get some more sleep but you refused. After a few minutes of bickering, you relented on the condition that he would read to you until you had fallen asleep. You curled up under the fluffy blanket as Spencer’s even voice recited the collection of Grimm’s fairy tales quickly lured you to sleep.

You woke up the next morning as sunlight peered through the curtains, stretching your body out to ease the aches from the previous night. You smiled softly as your screen lit up with a text from Spencer wishing you a good morning and an update that they had a solid plan for boxing in the two unsubs that afternoon. “If all goes to plan I should be carrying you to our bed before midnight tonight.”. Your smile widened and you sent back “Can’t wait to truly see you - and love you- tonight. I’ll be waiting.” You plugged your phone into the charger and straightened up from the night before when your phone went off again. The one word message glared at you from the screen and you let out an involuntary giggle. “Tease.”. You hoped it gave him something to look forward to until he was back in your arms. You sent back a simple “XO” before deciding to reread one of your favorite books for a few hours to kill some time. You made yourself a sandwich for lunch and had a few glasses of water as the clock slowly ticked by. You were over halfway through the lengthy novel when you received another message.

“We apprehended both unsubs. Hotch is postponing the paperwork until Monday so we can go straight home. I’ll see you in a few hours baby.”.  You jumped slightly in celebration before finishing your current chapter, marking your place, and all but skipping to the shower to shave and exfoliate your skin. You knew Spencer would still be heavily worked up once he arrived home and luckily, his favorite release included intertwining your bodies as close as possible and loving you sweetly and slowly.

You took your time in the shower careful not to nick yourself with your razor. You scrubbed your scalp with your nails, letting your stress and soreness melt away under the steam. You waited until the water ran cold before turning the knob and stepping out, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel and blow drying your hair until it layed perfectly even. You applied lotion all over your skin and stepped out of the bathroom to slip on your black silk robe, knowing it wouldn’t be worth it to dress up further. Spencer would be desperate to feel your skin against his and any fabric in his way didn't stand much of a chance.

You made an actual meal for dinner, a pasta dish with chicken that could be easily reheated for Spencer when he grew hungry later in the night. You helped yourself to a serving and after quickly cleaning up the kitchen and storing the leftovers, you retreated to the bedroom to wait for his return.

You were half paying attention to the feed you opted to scroll through on your phone when you heard the door creak open and bags drop to the floor. You set your phone on the bedside table and ran towards the foyer, all but throwing yourself at the exhausted man in front of you. He took a step back from the impact but still enveloped you in his arms and pulled you impossibly tight into his chest. “Hi baby.” you whispered against the scruffy skin of his jawline, peppering kisses up towards his earlobe. He let out a long sigh of relief and picked you up off the hardwood floor, wrapping your thighs around his waist resulting in a high pitched giggle to erupt from your throat. He kissed you then, slowly at first but quickly building more passionate. Your lungs were burning when he finally allowed you to pull away, opting to kiss down your neck to your collarbones and the skin of your chest that was newly exposed as your robe slipped open.

He carefully made his way back to your room, continuing his kisses back up to your shoulder, stopping only to leave marks you knew would only grow darker as time passed. At the very least he was sure to only mark you in places you could cover with little difficulty. “I missed you so much Y/N. The entire ride home all I could think about was you waiting for me in our bed. My gorgeous girl.”. You felt your chest heat up at his words of admiration, wrapping your fingers into his curls and pulling his lips towards your own once more.

You felt him groan against you and moved to quickly unbutton his shirt, slipping it down his arms and tossing it in the general direction of the hamper. He pulled you up with him then, so you were both on your knees, chest to chest as he pulled your robe fully down your back to the swell of your ass where he grasped at you through the slick fabric. You let out a whine and you pulled his belt off, undoing his jeans desperate to continue. He grinned against your neck and pushed you down so you laid flat on your back, completely exposed to him. He kissed at your stomach, making his way down to your inner thighs. He licked a slow wet trail from your pelvic bone to the top of your clit as you whimpered desperately. “Spence, please… I need more”. He humored you, creating slow small circles with his tongue moaning at the taste. You cried out as he created the perfect amount of pressure on your clit, legs threatening to close around his head when he moved to slip one of his fingers easily inside you as the mix of your own wetness and his saliva aided him. He smirked as he felt your thighs flex before using his left hand to throw one of your legs over his shoulders at a time. He pushed a second finger in, curling them up to perfectly reach your g-spot with every thrust. Soon though, you grew impatient with just his fingers. You needed more and you knew just how to get it.

“I want you so bad Spence. I’ve waited for so long and I just can’t anymore. I need to feel you deep inside of me.”. You were positive those words would leave him just as needy as you were and he proved you right when he kicked his pants the rest of the way off and went to line himself up against you. “Wait.”. He stopped immediately, examining your face for any indication of what was wrong. “What’s the matter baby? Are you okay?”. You shook your head and smiled at his concern before switching your positions so his back was resting against the pillows as you straddle his thighs. He smirked at you as he caught on, trailing his hands up the front of your legs to rest at your hips. “You gonna ride me angel?”. You responded with an eager nod and he squeezed your hips, pulling you up further so you were hovering above him. “Sit pretty like my good girl then.”. You whined softly at his words before slowly sinking yourself down around his length, sucking in a harsh breath at the stretch. Even with how wet you were, the adjustment took longer than usual due to the dry spell you were both suffering from as of late.

When you finally felt stretched out enough to move, you slowly ground your hips forward flush against his. He groaned out, lifting you back up so you were almost completely off of him before pulling you back down. You moaned both at the sensation and the idea of being manhandled by the genius below you. You realized what he was asking though, and began bouncing yourself up and down his cock, stopping every few thrusts to grind your clit down on him. You let out soft moans, and after a few more minutes you felt his fingers dig deeper into your hips and his breaths quicken. You knew he was close and as if on cue you started rubbing fast circles against your clit as he spoke again.

“Baby girl I’m getting close. You gonna cum with me angel?” You nodded furiously in response and you felt him start thrusting up to meet you. You panted as you hurried towards the edge of your orgasm, holding on until his thrusts grew sloppier. “You ready to cum with me baby? You gonna cum on my cock?” “Yeah.. gonna cum all over your cock Doc.” You fought to keep the grin off your face when he moaned at the title. He thrusted deep into you twice, before he ordered your release. “I want you to cum now baby. Cum all over my cock.” You felt your orgasm rip through you, electricity shooting through your limbs. Spencer groaned loudly as you tightened around him before pulling you down deep and releasing inside you.

You both fought to catch your breath as you rode out your highs before you found yourself slumping against his chest, suddenly drained from your activities. You felt him chuckle at your drastic change in energy as he wrapped his arms around you again. “I know you just washed the bed sheets and we’re both sweaty but do you think a washcloth will suffice for tonight?”. You nodded against his chest before slowly lifting yourself up and off of him, rolling onto your back on the other side of the bed. Spencer swiftly made his way across the hall, returning to wipe you down gently with the warm fabric. You shivered as the cool air dried your skin, watching him move throughout your room.

He slipped on a fresh pair of boxers before tossing the washcloth in the hamper along with his previously discarded clothes. He hung your robe on the back of your bedroom door then flipped the light switch off before rejoining you in bed to slip under the blankets with you. You immediately curled up into his chest, sighing contently as the sound of his heartbeat filled your ears. You kissed his chest and whispered goodnight, drifting into your first real sleep since before he left.

The next morning you and Spencer went shopping after you successfully convinced him to upgrade to a smart phone with video call abilities. He had begun to shut down the idea as he always had before but after the mere suggestion of what it could do to better your late night hotel room chats he was the one pulling you towards the nearest phone shop. You smiled politely while Spencer took his sweet time weighing the pros and cons of each model, letting your mind drift to the first time it would come in handy. As you finally neared the checkout counter, you took Spencer's hand in your own and gave it a gentle squeeze. After running his card through the machine, the salesgirl gave him the small plastic bag and wished you both a good afternoon.

As you exited the shop, you looked up at him, nudging him to get his attention “What do you think of an app controlled vibrator?”. He stared at you incredulously for a few moments, almost stopping dead in his tracks. After recovering from the initial shock at the vulgarity of your suggestion, he shook his head with a soft smirk and nudged back against you. “Tease.” he called you once more. “That’s the reason you love me right?”. He pulled you into his side, kissing you softly. “One of many Y/N. One of many.”