#Tree Pollen Levels

[meteorologistaustenlonek]

WDEFWeather #News12Weather Allergy Reports for Thursday afternoon. Data courtesy of Chattanooga Allergy Clinic.

[theforesteldritch]

My eyes have decided that random plant pollen is an extreme threat but I am being so brave about it

[your-highnessmarvel]

Insatiable

AN: No one asked for this but the Butcher brain rot is crazy and i can't stop myself. Alas, I couldn't resist so welcome to the madness. Anyway, I went insane and absolutely wrote a devoted piece to this man. Jesus help me.

Warnings: dub-con (use of sex pollen-ish mind control), smut, fingering, language, and Butcher is a warning in and of itself.

MINORS DNI Below the cut

"I'm not wearing any underwear."

The admonition echoed in the habitat of Butcher's Cadillac like a bird's call. Even the sound of leather on leather, as the man sitting beside you slowly turned to examine you, wasn't loud enough to get the stupid ringing out of your head.

This had all started off like a bad scab you thought was healed but wasn't, and now it was bleeding all over your favorite pink pull.

Hughie and MM had uncovered a rightful piece of Temp V hideout; a Supe's mansion on the Upper East Side who, just happened, to be throwing one of his renowned "XXXchange" parties for Supes and their pets (this was how it was described on the e-vite MM hacked).

This Supe, still unknown to everyone because he kept the mansion under a random woman's name, was supposedly a Seven-in-the-making, as Hughie put it. If he could prove himself, he was next in line for a comfy beige seat in the Tower. So hence, him keeping and distributing Temp V to teens and young adults who didn't know any better.

So what had been Hughie's grand ol' plan? Bring you in. As the newest Supe member of The Boys, no one had yet seen your face. No one even knew of you. You were a low-level "barely considerable" Supe...as Butcher had put it the first time he blew the hinges off your front door.

Your power wasn't really a - well, a power at all. It was mostly an advancement, an intellectual add-on, or a sixth sense. You could read lies. More coherently, because someone with a beard and a giant stick up his ass didn't understand correctly--you could tell when someone was lying.

You weren't really an attribute to the team when it came to brute force. You left that up to Annie and Kimiko. But you had your perks, and since you were still under Vought's radar, you could slip through the cracks and get intel for the Boys.

Now why was Butcher with you, the most notorious Boys' member? Well, one might say he was eager to see your 2-hour fight training in practice, but really, it was because he "didn't trust a dumb twat with highly sensitive information and tech". His words.

So he'd garnished a Tommy Bahama blouse with pink flamingoes and palm trees and a matching set of swim shorts, sunglasses, and a stupid bright pink bucket hat that was way too small for his big ass head.

And now here both of y'all were, headed to the Upper East Side, dressed like a hooker and a pimp. Annie had insisted on this get up, a tiny, tiny pink skirt, a white bikini top, and a pink cover up with flip flops to finish off this fucking look. Because apparently, no one would let you in if you weren't A) a Supe and B) not dressed like a House Bunny.

"So you're tellin' me," Butcher drawled as the New York skyline darkened, "that your bare pussy is suction-cupping my leather seats?"

You crossed your arms. "I'm sitting at an angle."

Butcher slapped the wheel. "You should've told me earlier!" he laughed. You frowned in return when he swivelled that giant head of his towards you. "Come now, if you're not wearing panties, why should I, eh?"

"You wear panties?"

He hummed, regaining control of the road as the car slipped passed the last townhouse to enter Mansion Ville.

"I like you, little Truthteller," he mumbled to himself. "Thought you were a bit worthless at first, but you might just prove yourself tonight!"

You didn't dare answer the last bit, instead focusing on the details Annie and Hughie gave you before you flip-flopped your way into Butcher's passenger seat (and did absolutely not suction-cup his leather seats).

The idea was to go in and place a few bugs in and around the mansion in key locations. You could try to figure out who the Supe was or even find out where he stashed his V, but it didn't matter. The Boys would find out over the bugs.

The mansion Butcher parked the Caddie in front of was like a cookie-cutter version of the 90s PlayBoy mansion.

"Alright, love," Butcher sighed, killing the engine and stepping out, rounding the nose of the car to open the door for you. "Give 'em a nice peek of that minge, eh?"

You blushed from head to toe, a torment of fire assaulting your skin until Butcher caught on and chuckled low in his chest, helping you step out the car with his hand.

You still hadn't gotten used to the crass words that could tumble out of his mouth like vomit.

He guided you to the entrance, where a man dressed in black boxers and a black neck tie asked for your invite number, which you recited from the one Hughie gave you.

Then he asked, "And which is Supe and which is pet?"

You blushed even hotter. "Um." Your throat got sticky and dry all at once. "I'm the Supe and he's my... um, he's my-"

"Her pet," Butcher interrupted with a wide smile, the sunglasses hiding the glint in his eye that was surely showing. That ridiculous bucket hat made him look almost two heads taller than you as he bent down to whisper in your ear, "bark, bark."

You groaned inwardly as you lead him into the foyer, where a sprawling staircase lead to a mezzanine and a mahogany banister and a wide archway gave way to a mess of bodies in the living room.

"Oh my God," you mumbled, turning away from the onslaught of legs and arms and slithering bodies like a pile of snakes.

"Oh, nuh-uh," Butcher chuckled, grabbing you by the shoulders, steering you right into the mass of party-goers, moaning and groaning and thrusting into one another or bouncing on top of each other like mad dogs. "If you want to play the part, you have to look the part." His mouth was right next to your ear, and for some reason, the breath caressing your skin sent a slowly gliding shiver down your spine.

Why was this happening?

You felt the flesh melt where his fingers lay, clutching at your shoulders, pulling your coverup off of you.

"Butcher," you said, stopping his hand.

He shook his head. "Show them what you got, mama," he whispered again, the rough of his beard tracing against your cheek. He scooped the coverup off your shoulders and threw it across the room, leaving you in your bikini top.

Butcher had never seen you so exposed before. You'd always worn pants and t-shirts around the safe house, so watching all that bare skin available to his hungry eyes flipped a switch in his head.

A woman, tall and elegant, cream skin and sultry black eyes, approached you before Butcher could do something stupid. He straightened up, lifting the sunglasses from his nose.

"Miss, look at you," he cooed.

Miss was naked. Someone had left a bite mark on her right breast, just above her peaked nipple. She was so long-limbed and beautiful, and the sight of her naked body made you turn away instinctively.

"I like you," she said, voice low and husky, like a purr.

"I like you too, sweetheart," Butcher answered, the heat of his body completely leaving you as he zeroed in all his attention on the naked, wanting lady before you.

She huffed. "You're great too," she answered, and when you turned, her lascivious brown eyes were settled on you. "But it's her that I want."

Butcher gasped and then erupted in laughter, taking the bucket hat off his head and putting it to his heart. "Woah, I never imagined I'd see this in my lifetime."

The other woman smiled slowly and you gulped. She was pretty, but she was also not part of the mission.

So you back-peddled.

You put a delicate hand to Butcher's arm, digging your nails into his skin, and put on a lovely, sweet smile for the offering girl. "That's nice of you," you said, voice sultry like a wet candy cane. "But we're more interested in watching." As you said this, you dropped into your act as best you could, mustering up the strength not to blush but to play the part of the sex-obsessed Supe.

She brightened up at this, gesturing to Butcher. "Well I could fuck him while you watch," she suggested.

Butcher's body tensed up against you and he turned to you. "Please say yes," he mumbled.

You smiled, throwing him a glance. "Both of us are watchers," you corrected, watching as she bowed her head, a lustrous gleam in her eye.

"It would've been a pleasure," she said before walking away.

When she was climbing onto another woman's lap, Butcher grabbed your bicep and brought you into a corner, sheltered in the dim lighting of the room, smothered under the moans and groans and the sloppy sounds of...intercourse.

"You were this close to fulfilling a fantasy of mine," he groaned, and when you looked up, he looked more angry than turned on.

"We're not here so I can watch you have sex with a woman, asshole!" you gritted between your teeth. ''We're here to plant bugs and find some V."

He huffed, rearranging his Tommy Bahama. "I'm obeying just because you're wearing this outfit," he grumbled, following you as you led them into the next room.

A kitchen, stock full with boxes of canned beverages and food platters.

"Okay, here." You pointed to the dinner table in the adjacent room, a teakwood marvel that surely housed a few meetings or two.

Butcher expertly placed a bug under the table.

You meandered safely through the house, planting bugs in various living rooms, meeting rooms, and spare bedrooms. Whenever some couple or lone masturbator dedicated their attention to you both, you pretended to watch, Butcher enlacing you in his arms.

It's only then you noticed how tall, how big this man was. He was easily dwarfing you by just standing there, your head against his chest, his fingers drawing lazy circles against your exposed spine.

When the onlookers would pass, he'd chuckle as you pushed him away like he was a booger wall.

But the more you traveled in the house, the more people seemed to stare, wanting, questioning. So you ended up holding Butcher's hand, at his command: "Wouldn't want the lovely ladies stealing you away, eh?"

And hand holding turned into his arm around your shoulders, the tip of his very long fingers ghosting your breast.

"Let's go upstairs," he whispered in your ear once he'd bugged up the toilet.

"Ew, no."

He sucked his teeth. "I mean," he gritted, pushing you up against a wall when a man with a considerably large strap on made his way towards you. Butcher bent down, squeezing the breath from your lungs as he grazed his mouth on your bare shoulder. He pressed a featherlight kiss, all while observing the passing man, dragging his lips up to your ear. "We should go bug up the rooms, eh? Maybe see if we can find this cunt's V supply?"

You nodded, a wicked shiver pebbling your flesh.

Butcher blew cold breath onto the thin line of saliva he'd left on your skin. "Cold?"

You swallowed hard. "Let's just go."

He chuckled as you grabebd his hand and led him back to the stairs, galloping up to the second floor.

Truth is, you'd never imagined Butcher like this. He was so arrogant and he loved to make people jump out of their skins by how uncomfortable they were with him, but you'd chopped it up to the old chip on the block; Butcher pushing people away to keep himself safe.

So when the Boys had initiated you, you'd figured it'd be best to steer clear from this tyrant of a man. He was way older than you anyway, and he was always calling you every name in the book except your government given one. And he was always dismissing your ideas, so you'd always assumed he had an image of an immature little girl in his head.

But he'd dreamed of you more times than he cared to count. The messed up parts of his brain, where most of it was left behind in his old life, conjured up hauntings of you every night. Of those soft, plump lips whenever you'd eat cherries. Of your legs in your pajama shorts and your giggle when Kimiko signed something stupid. Of that perfect little body of yours.

"Okay, in here." You interrupted his chain of thought, the one that was going to crash into a puddle brains that would eventually leak out of his ear.

You lead him into a room, which turned out to be some kind of antechamber with a hearth and a giant portrait of a small, bald man.

"He looks like a mouse," you muttered.

But Butcher froze, tearing his hand away from yours. "Oh, fuck me," he groaned, putting his sunglasses and hat onto the low table. "That's the fucking Seducer."

Your skin crawled. You turned, examined Butcher's expression as he leaned against the far wall. "This cum guzzler is the one trafficking V?" he thought to himself, just as you asked, "who's the Seducer?"

Butcher turned to examine you across the room, lit by a few lights in the sconces. "He's the world's number 1 date raper," he answered, frowning. "This guy can intoxicate the female species into a mad heat, like dogs."

"What?" You frowned.

Butcher walked a bit closer, turning his head to watch you out of one eye, like a bird. "Yeah, he secrets this hormone on a whim and boom, bitches go mad for his dick."

"Oh." You swallowed, turned to push the handle of another door, leading to a darkened room fit for a king. "I think this is his room."

Butcher muttered behind you, "Lucky guy if you ask me."

"Trouble getting women, Butcher?" you asked absentmindedly as you entered the dark room, lights from the lawn outside filtering milky-white through the windows, illuminating your path like a trail of snow.

Butcher followed, closing the door behind you. "Not really," he answered, immediately pulling cubbards and drawers open. "The ladies love me."

"Oh, yeah I bet," you muttered, pulling open the wardrobe. A loose floorboard creaked loudly and you froze, turning to meet Butcher's eye.

He scrambled to where you stood, pressing on the floor and repeating the awful creaking sound.

"Pants jizzer must be keeping the V under his floor," he mumbled, pressing until at least 6 floorboards rose from the ground on one end, a whole door to the underside of the Seducer's floor.

"Bingo," you giggled, helping Butcher pull the damn thing open. But there was nothing there, only an empty black space that could've fit maybe two people, gaping at you like a dark maw. "He must have transfered them," you whispered.

"Or he's trafficking other things," Butcher replied darkly.

Just as you were about to close the floorboards, a loud thud rang out in the antechamber. You froze, listening, until a feminine giggle made you and Butcher lock eyes.

"Get in," he whispered, motioning to the black pit under your knees.

"In here!?" you whispered tightly.

Whoever was on the other side was making their way towards the room, painstakingly, and this was not the place you and Butcher needed to be found.

"Yes, fuck, get in," he insisted, and your heart thudded so loudly, so harshly against your throat you thought it would burst right out through your chest.

Shaking, you got into the little space, falling onto your back because you couldn't see where this thing ended. As soon as you got your hair out of your eyes, Butcher was tumbling onto you, closing the floorboards a millisecond before the bedroom door burst open.

Sound was immediately muffled, like being underwater, and the only thing you could hear was your breathing. Butcher's breathing over you. Your heart in your throat, nauseating you, the adrenaline rushing like a flood in your veins.

Butcher's chest heaving against yours, the entire length of him pressed up on you like a heavy blanket.

"Get off," you whispered, feeling the heat of his forearm next to your head.

"There's no space," he grumbled, his voice catching on your cheek, your neck, as he tried to maneuver himself every which way that meant he wasn't pressed up on you, but he was just so damn big, like hiding with a grizzly bear, that whenever he tried to move, he just ended up being half on and half off you.

"Fuck it," he grumbled, pressing one hand under your thigh, wrenching a gasp from your throat as he placed himself comfortably between your legs.

The pressure of him on your bare bottom half made you freeze, heart hammering like an angry drum against your ribcage. The way you were positioned, thighs wide open, knees bent each side of his waist, made the skimpy little skirt bundle up onto your tummy, leaving you completely bare.

"Hush up, little thing," Butcher whispered in your ear, holding himself up on his forearms as not to crush the breath out of you. But his voice was wretched, pulled and tight, no doubt reacting to the heat he could feel through the thin fabric of his swim shorts.

The noise overhead intensified; a moan, a few garbled words, thudding.

"They're going to do it while he lie here," you whispered, hands balled up by your sides.

Butcher chuckled silently, breath fanning your neck. "So we really are voyeurs."

You smiled, holding back a giggle until a heavy thud caught your attention and the voices suddenly got a bit clearer. They were right over you.

A woman's voice floated through. "How ever I can serve you, Seducer."

The last word made your insides coil in fear. It looked like this woman was answering a command from the Seducer himself, the man who owned this house, who trafficked all the V and worked with Vought.

"Fuck," Butcher muttered. "This is worse than I thought."

"Why?" you asked silently, your fingers trembling against your thighs.

You felt him bend forward, his body tight like a rod. "This is going to hurt, love."

And just as you were about to ask what he was about to do, a soft pang echoed in your lower belly, like someone had tied a rope to your bellybutton and pulled. You squirmed, the thudding overhead leading back to the bed.

The pulling again, making you heave in a breath, squeeze your eyes shut. "No, no, no," you muttered, feeling an ache build between your legs, a force pull through your veins like molten honey.

The Seducer was using his power. And it wasn't just affecting the woman he was with... it was starting to affect you.

You felt yourself clench on nothing but air when the ache throbbed against your clit, like an invisible vacuum seal had closed over it, and you lifted your hips off the floor slightly.

Butcher immediately grabbed your hip, bringing you back down forcibly, sending a new wave of heat, of ache, of hurt through your body just at the touch of his bare fingers on your bare hip.

"Don't," he breathed, his word clipped. "Don't do that."

He could feel the heat of you through his shorts, just how impossibly hot you were, probably dripping from the Seducer's power, and the little control he exhibited around you was pulling quite taut.

"It hurts, Butcher," you gritted through your teeth, hands settling on his shoulders for support as another wave of need, of painful, painful need, throbbed through your body like a pulsing nuclear explosion. Your legs tightened around his waist, nails digging into the fabric of his Tommy Bahama. "Make it stop," you pleaded, heaving, throwing your head back, bucking your hips to get the pain to stop. Just stop.

Butcher huffed, cradling your face, his insides in turmoil with his brain. God had given him such a gift right now, a chance to take you, mark you as his, finally fuck that perfect little body--and he didn't know if he was man enough to stop himself.

You groaned in pain, subconsciously grinding your bare pussy against his thigh, searching for any kind of friction, of relief. Your skin was so hot, sweat beading your forehead as you braced through another wave of this unknown ache, throbbing relentlessly against your clit, deep inside you, just grazing your g-spot.

Your fingers balled into fists against his shirt, your face finding his chest, and you sobbed, "Make it stop, Butcher, please, it hurts."

You weren't aware that your hips had started grinding against his thigh, the knee he'd placed between your legs for leverage. And just the fact that he could feel his shorts getting soaked had him straining against the stitches of his sanity.

"There's only one way," he breathed against your ear. You sobbed, heaving, breathing raggedly, grinding so hard on his knee it was almost pathetic. "Are you sure you want to try?" he asked, voice trembling.

You sniffed, hung onto his neck for dear life. "Please, anything, this is--ah--this is unbearable."

He bent his head, mumbled for God to forgive him, and then pressed a deep, hard kiss on your lips, pressing you back into the floor completely. Somewhere above him, he heard a woman moan loudly, but the only thing that registered to him was the way you clung to him like a pawing animal.

A strangled moan, quiet and restrained, left your throat, caught behind your teeth as he ravaged your mouth.

"N-no," you mumbled. "No."

He pulled away, kissing your jaw, your neck until your were humping his thigh like a woman gone mad.

"This the only way, little Truthteller," he murmured in your ear, dragging his knee away and feeling your entire body go stiff against him.

A whine, like delicious music, lifted to his ear and he groaned inwardly. He had to convince himself he was doing it for you, but half of him was delighted at the idea of finally having you. Like a meal he'd been mouth-watering over for some time, and now it was fresh and warm right in front of him.

"I need," you muttered, groaning through another wave of the Seducer's power, your hips bucking into nothing. "I need..."

"You need to cum, little dove," Butcher whispered, caressing the side of your face and you shook your head.

"No."

"Yes, love," he muttered, tracing the line of your neck, down your chest until he softly cupped your breast.

A quiet moan rippled along your throat like a symphony to his ears. He played with your hard nipple through the fabric until he pushed it aside and replaced his thumb with the warmth of his mouth.

"Fuck," you whispered, pushing against his shoulders. "This is wrong." Your voice was so thin.

Butcher lapped at your nipple like an ice cream cone. "Want me to do this to your pretty little pussy?" he mumbled, and the crass words sent a hot wave of need pulsing painfully between your legs.

His other hand skimmed down your side, over the swell of your hip, and down to where you needed him most.

When he swiped a slow finger across your soaked folds, the grunt that left him was purely predatory. "You're so fucking wet," he whispered, to the accompanying sound of your panting. He brushed his thumb across your clit, holding you down as you jolted, flicking his tongue against your nipple.

"Butcher, please," you begged.

"Billy, love," he whispered, raising his head to kiss the corner of your mouth, brushing his thumb against your clit once more to capture your gasp in his kiss. "Call me Billy."

You gripped onto his shoulders, feeling the wide, powerful muscle of his right hand playing with you.

He pressed three fingers flat against you and you bucked, searching for more, as he circled slowly, starting you off.

"Say it," he commanded quietly, circling your clit faster.

"Billy," it came out as a whine and he groaned lowly, capturing your lips and kissing down your throat. The way his fingers played you like a harp wrenched a pornographic moan from your throat and immediately, Billy put a hand over your mouth, the skin between his thumb and forefinger snug under your nose.

"Quiet for me, little Truthteller," he whispered.

He moved his fingers to your entrance and slipped one in so easily it was almost embarrassing. He cooed at you, gliding his finger in and out so slowly it was almost arrogant. "So fucking wet, this perfect little hole."

You keened, squeezing your eyes shut at his crude words, searching for more friction until the heel of his hand pressed snuggly against your clit.

Your hips moved on their own, bucking against his hand as he pumped his finger, faster and faster until your pants turned into hyperventilating and your legs started to close around his hips.

"Got my whole hand drenched, pretty love," he whispered. "That perfect little cunt can handle another finger?"

You preened against his hand, your sounds muffled against his large, meaty palm and he chuckled at you.

The second finger was a tighter fit, his thick digits spreading you and squelching into you slowly.

"Ah, there's my girl," he moaned in your ear. "Fucking my fingers like a good girl."

You wanted to tell him to quit teasing, to bring you to orgasm as quickly as possible because the heat stirring under your skin was insatiable, but you didn't understand how much Billy was enjoying himself. He didn't know when he'd get a chance to have you so willingly spread open for him again, or if he'd ever get the chance again. So he savored this moment like a dying man's last meal.

He let you adjust to his fingers, fucking them into you, palming your clit before he thrust in another finger, opening you wide to him. You gurgled against his hand, muffled moans and pleas stuck behind his palm.

He didn't miss just how tight you were around his fingers, how snug and warm. "So tight, my little love," he cooed, thrusting his fingers in and out slowly, enjoying the way your hips bucked.

The sloppy sounds of your cunt sucking on his fingers drove you mad and a hot, painful knot formed in your belly, pulling and tugging at your insides.

He felt you trembling, your orgasm on the horizon, and he lifted his hand off your mouth, capturing your lips in a warm, sloppy kiss.

"Want you to cum with my name in your mouth," he mumbled, almost incoherent in his chase for your climax. He pressed his thumb to your mouth, opening it, listening to your panting, your quiet moans as he fucked his fingers into your cunt, pressing down on your clit, rubbing it with his palm.

"Billy," you breathed. "Billy. Billy." Like a mantra, a prayer.

"That's it, my pretty girl," he whispered, thumb on your tongue, fingers fucking your pussy until that knot in your bely tightened impossibly and your legs went numb. "Cum my pretty dove, gush all over my hand, come on now."

He grunted against you, and somehow, that guttural, manly sound made stars explode in your belly and you came, shuddering his name quietly, over and over and over until the pleasure had seeped out of your veins and you crumbled back to the floor. You felt his fingers slip out of you, his wet hand pull your knee apart, press against the meat of your thigh, spreading you wide, wide open.

He slithered down your body like a snake, pushing you up against the confines of this box until you felt the warm breath of him against your clit. When he lapped at you, humming around your hole like a satiated man, you mumbled his name, searching with your hands until you grabbed onto the thick strands of his hair. Panting, you mumbled his name again.

"Just having a taste, love," he mumbled, sucking on your over-sensitive clit until the heat came blasting through you again, all over, like you were under the Seducer's spell again.

"Fuck," you gritted, biting your lip, caging in the awfully loud, guttural moan that wanted to spring free.

Billy grabbed onto your hips, holding them down, his forearm over your belly like an anchor.

"One more, little Truthteller," he mumbled, flicking your clit with his tongue, his beard scraping on the inside of your sensitive thighs.

"Billy, please," you whined softly.

"Always wanted a taste," he said. Not a lie. "Always wanted to tongue-fuck this perfect hole." Not a lie.

He pressed his tongue flat to your clit, sucked and nibbled on it until he pressed his tongue right into your cunt, fucking you with his tongue like he'd promised. The mix of his hot breath, his tongue inside your walls, his thumb working on your clit made all your senses flush full of adrenaline. Bucking against his face, you rode his mouth until another flash burst through you and you came all over his face, grinding down on his nose until the last waves of your orgasm had left you.

When he climbed back over, kissing your belly, your nipple, covering you with his warmth, you were just a numb shell of the girl you were when you walked in here.

Billy kissed your jaw, your neck, stroking your hair as you regained your senses.

Whoever had been overhead had gone. It was completely silent. And it left you wondering if that last wave of need had been the Seducer's spell or Billy's.

"We should go, love," he whispered. "Before I stuff you full of my cock and have you cumming on it for the third time."

His filthy mouth brought you back to your body, cold and sweaty and oh so comfortable with two orgasm singing in your veins.

"Yeah," you whispered as Billy pushed the trap door open, peaking out to make sure the coast was clear, and then hopping out. He helped you out with his hand, gentle and calm, smoothing down your hair, covering your nipple, patting down your two-inch skirt.

"I've made a real good mess of you, love, eh?" he chuckled, standing and taking your hand. "Was I a good pet?"

[madwomansapologist]

──────〃✰ KINKTOBER DAY 24: 𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍

title: milk me synopsis: usually demons' poisons just kill whoever was affected by them. this time, it served for something else. something way better. [2.1K] cw: established relationship, eye patch!kyojuro, crystal hashira!reader, sex pollen, public sex, pussy drunk, forced orgasms, overstimulation, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), p in v, dacryphilia, spit, nipple stimulation, accidental voyeurism (we'll say: sorry miss shinobu).

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Monsters, echoed in the demon’s head as he ran deeper into the forest. His arm reattached to his body, fully healed but burning still. With human blood dripping from his mouth, he cursed the slayers after him. Monsters. All of them.

The bastard decided where his body would rot. He was the one to decide over his path. Lurking among the branches, you waited. Concealed by the night, Kyojuro chased. And as the demon laughed, believing to have outwitted the slayers, fire and crystal cut through his neck in union.

Blood burned into ashes on your nichirin sword. As the head rolled, you gazed at the starless sky. Using the moon as a reference, you knew this hunt was too easy. “It’s not even midnight yet”, you frowned. “Sanemi spoke the truth on our last meeting. Those slayers begged for our help to end this weak thing?”

Hypnotized by your presence, Kyojuro cupped your cheek. The head between you two screamed and cursed, but his voice meant nothing for Kyojuro. Talking is a privilege for the living, and he won’t allow a beast to stop him from admiring you.

“Only because of your flawless strategy, flame of my heart!” Kyojuro laughed, thumb caressing your lower lip. He blatantly ignored your last statement, determined to not let worries take you away from him. “How glad I am to fight beside you!”

To feel his hand full of scars, hear his voice full of love, made you come back to the present. Kyojuro knows how easy it’s for you to get lost inside of your own head. Soothing you back into reality, you were the flying pipe and Kyojuro the stone.

How could you care about any other thing when Kyojuro burns this bright? All concerns about the level of those new slayers were quickly forgotten. Moving your face, you kissed his open palm. He was so warm. Welcoming.

“You flatter me.”

“I only speak the truth”, Kyojuro pulled you closer. “As you deserve.”

Peace was disturbed as bones cracked. You looked down to find the demon’s jaw wide open, tongue contorting as he choked on it. You assumed it was agony, but Kyojuro recognized it as a last act of violence. From stroking your face, Kyojuro spared no strength to shove you as far away as he could.

You were about to do the same to him.

As you rose from the ground a heavy, yellow mist came out from the demon’s mouth. Covering your face with your emerald haori, to hear his coughs made your heart stir. The more desperate Kyojuro becomes, the more this pollen will infiltrate his nostrils. The more this wretched demon would hurt your dear Kyo.

In an act of pure logic, you kicked the head away. In an act of pure hatred, you did so with so much strength the head exploded in pieces against a tree trunk.

You turned around in time to see Kyojuro’s nose scrunching.

The pollen was already gone, scattered in the wind. You let go of your haori and held his chin, looking for blisters or burns were the mist touched. As you moved him closer to you, Kyojuro sighed.

More carefully now, you tilted his head. Moonlight revealed his flushed cheeks, forehead already soaked with sweat. His owl eye, always brimming with excitement and joy, never looked so dark. You found nothing. Not a wound, not a scratch.

“Focus”, you demanded, voice stern. Now you weren’t his wife, only a hashira telling a hurt person what to do. “Slow down your heartbeat. Fight the fever. Kyojuro, I need you to breath.”

That damned thing. You doubt that demon could create anything stronger than a common poison. After a whistle, your crow landed on your shoulder. Looking into its purple eyes, you gave the instructions to warn Shinobu of your position.

“Kyo!” You almost lost balance when he collapsed against you. “Listen to me! You need to keep on breathing.”

His arms intertwined around your waist, his hold so tight you could feel his chest moving up and down with every shaky breath. Kyojuro’s knees failed, his weight making you stumble back.

Your mind was a torturous place right now.

Usually, he would fight back. If only his body was threatened, Kyojuro would have stopped that poison by now, but it clearly affected his mind too. You can’t count on Kyojuro tonight. He needs you now.

The best thing is for Kyojuro to get healed immediately, and the only one that can assure that is Shinobu. You want to take him in your arms and run. The sudden movement, the change in temperature, his aching lungs. You want to run, but maybe that would only work to weaken Kyojuro even more. But to stay here, holding a suffering Kyojuro in the hopes of being found? That would make you insane!

And again, you were the pipe flying away, lost in the winds of your head. You need your stone. You need Kyojuro to be fine again.

Kyojuro inhaled deeply your scent, and for a moment you thought he learned how to deal with the poison. Him shamelessly ravishing on your skin made you second thought that.

“Dear”, you whimpered. Trying to move Kyojuro away, you stumbled back once more. This time, Kyojuro stepped forward, putting more of his weight on top of you. “Kyo… What are you doing?”

His warm tongue licked the crook of your neck, tasting your sweat. His nose brushed against you, drowning in your perfume.

“I am hungry”, Kyojuro whimpered, mouth closing around the sensitive skin where your shoulder and neck meet. His lips, soft and plump, stole a little whimper from you. “I burn for you.”

At that, your eyes widened. Aphrodisiacs! That explains why those slayers were so quick to avert his curious gaze and your careful touch. Why they cried as they moved, although they carried no wound. Why you feel something poking at your belly.

His teeth sank on your neck, expelling every thought from your mind. It was strong enough to bring you to tears. A deep moan echoed through the night; a sound so primal a part of you mistook it from an animal’s doing.

Your heartbeat increased, and you knew Kyojuro heard it too.

“Kyojuro Rengoku,” you hissed. It made him froze. “You need to stop.”

Taken back from your harsh tone, Kyojuro tilted his head towards yours. You were mad at him. No, no, no, no! That… That can’t be. He can’t make you suffer. He promised to never make you suffer.

“Forgive me,” he begged. Kyojuro sounded more like himself. Still clouded, flying like a pipe, but real. Caring.

In a merciful act, the moon shone over you two. And in its glow, you saw Kyojuro crying. Heavy tears rolled down his face, sobs forcing out of him.

The great flame hashira reduced to such a beautiful mess.

“I need you”, Kyojuro whimpered. He closed his eyes, all the voices in his head bringing him step by step closer to the abyss. “I feel as if… As if I will go insane if I don’t have you. I am… sorry.” You saw fire inside his eye, heard certainty on his voice. “I just need to… Yes, my flame, I just need to…”

His warmth turned into heat, and Kyojuro moved before you could decide over your next action. Not a second later your back was on the ground, eyes wide as you stared at the predator lurking above you.

Kyojuro kneeled down, thighs closed between your legs. His rough hands tugged at your haori, trembling as he pulled it apart. Like a beast, Kyojuro cut through all the fabrics between you two. He stopped when your breasts spilled out, nipples hard as the wind touched them.

His deep breath made you pay more attention to Kyojuro’s details. Fingers hesitant to touch your skin. Tears staining his face. Lips open, drool falling over you. The sound of his pitiful cries pierced your skull.

Without any words, Kyojuro begged. He begged for your forgiveness. For your help. For you. And how could you deny Kyojuro of what he wants so badly?

“Do it”, you said. You allowed. Supporting your weight on your elbows, back leaving the ground, you bit your tongue. “Knock yourself out.”

“Thank you, my flame”, Kyojuro cried. So beautiful. “Thank you, thank you.”

His warm mouth closed around your nipple, eyes widening as he sucked on it. His fingers yanked the other, rolling it between his fingertips with just the right pressure.

Kyojuro bit your shoulder, this time less feral. It wasn’t possessive, only a need to have you between his teeth. Marking your bust, leaving not a single inch untouched and unmarked, he covered you on his spit.

He is a selfless lover in a way the most selfish one could appreciate. There isn’t a single moment Kyojuro doesn’t think about your pleasure. He is always seeking for it, drowning himself on you and only coming back to surface when you beg for rest. It’s nothing but a mere coincidence that Kyojuro takes his own pleasure from yours.

The more you whined, hips twitching beneath his broad body, the more Kyojuro gave to you. You hissed when his teeth closed around your wet nipples, and Kyojuro saw that as a sign he needed to keep going.

Even in this condition, your man really can’t bear having an empty mouth.

Kyojuro bended your legs, feet high on the air, laying down on the ground. He forced your thighs to close around his head, fingers drawing circles on your hips. You felt his shaky breath against your ignored cunt.

“Itadakimasu,” Kyojuro whispered. Not for you, but for your pussy.

And so, he dived into you. There was no technique, no method on the way his tongue moved. And that’s why you always loved to have his head between your legs. With Kyojuro, you never felt as if your time was running out. As if you had to be quick, so he would finally feel pleasure too. Eating you out, Kyojuro never thought about the quickest way to get you to cum.

He does that for himself. Tongue deep into your walls, Kyojuro rejoices. Teeth pulling at your clit, Kyojuro salivates. Every noise that you make, from sheepish whimpers to weary cries, is a full meal for this hungry man.

You’re in for a long night.

Kyojuro licked your slit restlessly. In his place, your jaw would stumble. His big tongue slipped inside of it, back to his home. The soft and trained muscle, curling at the perfect spot inside of you.

But he never stayed inside of you for long enough, as another part of your glistening cut looked deserving of his attention too. Torturing you, all you did was pull his golden hair and take it.

After the fourth orgasm, his fingers filling you up without mercy, your mouth hanged open. You couldn’t close it. You couldn’t remember to close it. All you wanted, all you could think about, was for Kyojuro to have his fill. To get better. To just drown already and let you rest.

“Inside of me”, your voice echoed, but you had no time to be embarrassed about your screams. Pushing his head away, you tried to bargain with his desire. “Just get inside of me already, Kyojuro!”

But he refused you. Nodding, Kyojuro nuzzled at your core. Impatient, you groaned and pulled his hair harshly.

Kyojuro saw you. All of you. The redness of your tearful eyes. The bite marks around your collarbone. Those half-closed eyes, tired but energized still. Those breasts moving up and down, up and down.

“Now”, you ordered, clenching your teeth.

As if he would be punished by disobeying you, Kyojuro freed his leaking cock and pulled you closer. Rigid for you, sensitive because of all the pleasure he gave you, ready for you.

Your flame hashira, more than ready to burn you alive.

His body was on top of yours, involving you completely, as he thrusted into your walls. He licked your lips, eye as heavy as yours. “You taste so good”, he said against your mouth. “The best meal I ever had.”

Looking into his eyes, you melted. Your legs shaken around his hips; eyes rolled back as Kyojuro used you to get off. Watching Kyojuro finally fell apart, head finding solace in the crook of your neck, you smiled. “Better?”

A husky laugh vibrated through you. “Better.”

Shinobu thanked darkness for hiding her burning cheeks.

taglist: @ffinosie @lovelyy-moonlight @alzaira @s2-angells @eyes-ofhell @inlovewithmariah @chiiyohiimee @shaquilles-0atmeal @bloodyziggy @salemey @kcch-ns @notanalienindisguiseblink @py-schi @miyanosm @idonthaveanameforthisacc

© all rights reserved to MADWOMANSAPOLOGIST

[fanfictionera]

My Queen (BuckyxReader) Smut

A/N: I have always wanted to write a Sex Pollen fic but every time I tried to write one it didn't feel right. Finally I started writing and the vibes started flowing. I wanted filthy smut but with emotion and feeling and I hope that I achieved that. Either way I am super proud of this and I hope readers enjoy!

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Synopsys: The reader and Bucky are sent on a mission where they are exposed to what is referred to as Sex Pollen. Their feelings for each other are forced to be faced.

Word Count: 6,218

Warnings: Sex Pollon, Friends to Lovers, forced sex (due to drugs), sprinkle of Angst, Bucky, SMUT, SMUT SMUT SMUT. SO LITTLE PLOT.

My Queen

Bucky stood in the back of the Quinjet, checking over his person. It was like a ritual for him, starting from the top he would check every strap and belt, double check each gun and knife blade. His body swayed, compensating for the slight lurch of the Quinjet before it leveled out.

“And we have touched down,” Y/N said from the pilot's seat, with a press of a button her chair spun around. She came up behind Bucky gently tugging on his back harness. The back of the Quinjet dropped down, revealing several structures in a clearing, surrounded by trees. They began to make their way to the larger building in the center. The clearing was shrouded in a dark gray filter as the misty fog creeped its way through the trees, under a sky blanketed by cloud cover, reclaimed by nature. A scan showed no signs of human life, which was little in the way of relief.

They silently approached the front door before stepping into the building. A home. The remnants of one anyway. They entered the kitchen, with a table still made. Flowers in a porcelain milk jug left dead, wilted and dried in the center. A plate sat next to a folded newspaper. Y/N could feel the shift in the air as soon as they walked in. The weight of the secrets of the house, hidden behind the semblance of a quiet life, mixed with the pure evil that seeped from its walls in tendrils made Y/N uneasy. 

They progressed through the first and second level of the home. Although every surface was covered in a thick layer of dust each room sat pristine, frozen in time as if the owner just ceased to exist. One of many of Hydra’s calling cards.

They made their way back outside and to the side of the house. Y/N turned scanning the tree line as Bucky yanked and cleared away brush that covered the storm doors nestled against the house. Nature revealed the chained and padlocked metal doors.

Bucky pulled the chain, breaking it in his metal hands. The parts slipped through his fingers like sand. The doors opened with a gut dropping creek revealing a set of stairs leading down into a dirt floor cellar. 

“Ladies First.” He waved his hand as he motioned his hand forward, his eyes scanning behind Y/N. 

She walked forward, “What a gentleman.”

The cellar was packed hard, the air was stale and stagnant. The wooden shelves that lined the stone wall held glass jars full of canned food. 

Bucky walked to the corner, moving a basket out of the way, revealing a hatch. 

The ladder led down to a concrete room, with the only doorway being a gated elevator shaft. An electrical box was mounted on the wall. Bucky opened it and began to check it over before pulling the large handle down. It made a large metallic thunk as Bucky forced the handle down. A soft wiring noise began to buzz.

Bucky pulled the metal gate to the side, ushering Y/N into the car, he closed the gate after he stepped on and reached for the hand crank on the side. Slowly the metal gears began to move and creak as the elevator descended. “Why does every Hydra base have a creepy elevator?” Y/N asked as she took in the rust-streaked walls of the shaft illuminated by dingy yellowing lights that flickered as they warmed up. 

“Günter did suggest rainbows and butterflies, but as you can see, he was outvoted.” Y/N tried to hide her smile as she rolled her eyes.

The elevator came to a stop as it reached the bottom of the shaft, pulling the gate aside again, they found themselves in a storm of destruction “What is this place?”

“It's a lab, was a lab.” Bucky looked around, “I don't believe I was ever here, but it's where they developed all kinds of fun.”

They began to clear the room, flashlight in hand. Tables sat disheveled and tipped over, their contents scattered. Papers littered every surface like confetti. Various medical equipment and hardware mixed and mingled with the papers, while every box of a computer was shattered or broken. As if someone punched every screen. Several lighting fixtures hung from the ceiling, attached by a few wires, while others found their way to the floor. Bucky held a dangling light to the side, letting Y/N walk through before following.

She scanned the room as she took another step, a loud popping crunch noise made her jump, she looked down, lifting her foot, to see the glass shards sprayed across the floor. 

Bucky laughed as he pushed past her. “You’ve been playing to many zombie games,”

“Shut up.” She walked behind him.

Bucky laughed again as he held his arms out, doing his best zombie impression, ‘Brainsss.” He turned to grab her head. “No brainsssss”

Y/N shoved him playfully, "Can we just do this and get the hell out of here?" Bucky chuckled as he clicked on his flashlight and continued sweeping the lab with a smug smile on his face. Y/N wasn't going to lie, nothing about this place made her feel good. She wasn't sure if it was because of its history or its current state, either way she was very much looking forward to leaving. 

As they continued into the next room, Y/N eyes came to rest on Bucky’s back. They trailed across his harness, how it spanned across his wide shoulders. The dim lights still highlighted the muscular lines built into the metal of his arm. Bucky paused for a moment, pivoting on his heel to double check a dark corner. His face was concentrated, eyes trained. She couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have them trained on her. 

She shook her head, focus, she mouthed to herself. With the room cleared they were moving forward again; her eyes came to the back of his head and down his back. They slowly trailed down to his ass, framed perfectly in his tactical pants, the seams accentuating his curve. 

Suddenly Bucky stopped, looking up at a mess of chains, “Let’s see what's behind door number one.” He put his flashlight between his teeth as he began to roll his sleeve up his flesh arm. 

Y/N watched, entranced by the simple action, she glanced up to see Bucky watching her. He smiled around the flashlight; he reached up with this metal hand taking the source of light. He took several steps toward her before bringing his hand up to her jaw.

“That’s what does it for you?” he swiped his thumb against her bottom lip before swiping his thumb down, pulling her lip with it. “Is it my arm?”

She nodded.

“Or is it my fingers?” Her eyes dilated as Bucky chuckled leaning forward, “Do you want my fingers?” She could feel his breath against her skin as he walked behind her, his flesh hand reaching around, grasping the toggle of her zipper. She could hear each tooth unzip as he pulled the zipper down its full length. The coolness of the metal left a tingling sensation as he followed in the zipper wake, his palm slid down her stomach, closer to her aching core. Her breathing became heavy as her head began to spin.

“Hey,” Bucky’s voice sounded firm, the look of concern evident “Are you okay?”

The world came crashing back in a blink of her eye. Her eyes snapped open to find Bucky standing in front of her, still messing with the chains. She shook her head trying to shake off the ghost feeling of his touch. Y/N took a deep breath, her brow began to pull together, "Do you smell that?” She takes another deep breath through her nose, “It's almost sweet, floral, its faint.”

Bucky looked at her puzzled, the air around them smelled musty and old. Then the realization hit him. "Shit.” With the chains forgotten, Bucky grabbed her arm and pulled her back down where they came, “Where is that vile you stepped on?”

His touch was distracting, “Over, over there, I think?" He let go of her, "What's going on?” Y/N asked as Bucky began searching the ground.

He turned still looking, “Just, please, we need to find it.”

She walked back over a row and kicked a pile of papers, a cracked vile rolled out, “It's right here.” The end was still intact, the label holding the shards together.

Copulation Stimulant 

Y/N’s eyes read over the label, “Is this?” She looked back down again hoping she read it wrong, “This is, oh my god--no-no-no-no.” She dropped the vile again, the realization setting in, her hands coming to her face as she rambled, “I can't do this, this has to be some cruel joke. Yeah? It’s labeled wrong? I can’t actually fuck my best friend…I can't--”

11-197020-43

“Oh, come on now,” As Y/N began to spiral Bucky knelt down to confirm his suspicion, "Best Friend!?" He tried to joke, to keep Y/N with him. "Nat might fight me for that title."

"Stop. I'm serious. You don't understand," She began shaking slightly, overwhelmed as the tears began to fall down her cheek. 

Bucky's smug smile dropped from his face as he took in Y/N’s state, his eyebrows knitted together.

Y/N's chest tightened as she looked up at him. “I can’t fuck my best friend because I’m in love with my best friend."

"Sweetheart" The word came out of Bucky’s mouth like an exhale as he took in her words. 

“Oh my god, am I going to fuck my best friend, who I’m in love with, for the first time in a dingy old Hydra base." Y/N's mind was moving a million miles a second. A heat began to spread from her core, she took a deep breath. 

“Come on,” Bucky gently grabbed her arm, "Not here, let's get back to the Quinjet, okay?”

Y/N shook her head as she let Bucky lead her out of the bunker. She could feel the heat spreading throughout her body, like water slowly trickling down through the soil, saturating each grain as it was pulled down by gravity. It felt invasive. 

The Quinjet bay door began to close as Bucky climbed into the pilot's chair. Y/N sat in the back, her breath becoming heavy. "I'm getting really hot." 

“Like little pin pricks of heat all over your skin?" The Quinjet shook slightly as it rose into the sky.

"Yeah-h" Y/N said as a sheen of sweat began to cover her face. 

"It's hitting you faster." He quickly flipped some switches before getting up out of the chair, he grabbed a med kit duffle bag out of the closet before kneeling in front of her.

Y/N's brow slowly pulled together, "Why?"

"It's designed for super soldiers." Bucky began as he pulled out and cracked a jelly ice pack, instantly making it cold before placing it on her neck. "Which means it's stronger for you."

Y/N felt the sting of the cold radiate, "Okay, okay…okay. What's going to happen?" Her head swirled as she placed her hand over his that held the ice pack, grounding herself. “Be honest.”

Bucky took a deep breath, unable to pull his gaze from her pleading one. "Your adrenaline will slowly rise, until your heart feels like it's going to burst and every cell in your body is vibrating." He flipped the ice pack to the other side of her neck. "It's going to alter chemicals in your brain, driving up your sex drive and arousal." His chest began to heave as he began to feel the effects. “At the same time, it will lower your inhibitions and block all sense of self control.”

Y/N took a deep breath through her nose. "And sex is the only way?"

"No, we can ride this out." Bucky said as he also breathed deep. "It will be torture, an ache of a pain that will thunder through your existence. Every second you resist will feel like one second closer to death, but it won't kill you."

Y/N fought through another wave of heat before responding, "I don't know what to do. It's getting hard to think."

"Yeah." Bucky knew what was to come. How many hours they would have to endure if they waited it out. He dropped the ice pack, now warm, before bringing his hands up to the sides of Y/N's face, pulling her focus back. "Listen to me," He took a moment, “Never in a million years would I have wanted this to be our first time." He let out another grunt as he fought another wave, a smirk appeared through it. "I planned on asking you out, on a real date, before I led you to my bed. To treat you like a queen. My queen.” Tears threatened the corners of Y/N's eyes. Her heart was beating in her ears, and it felt like years as they leaned forward, their foreheads resting against each other. “If we do this now, it won't be like that, you need to know once I start, I will not be able to stop. You will not be able to stop."

Her fingers came up dragging down the edge of his scruff-covered jaw line. “I understand. I trust you, please, I trust you.”

The moment his lips touched hers everything stopped. Bucky physically felt Y/N's body relax as her lips began to move against his. She snaked her hands up his chest and behind his neck before pulling herself off the back of the chair and as close to him as she could. 

Y/N got lost in the intense high created, everything slowed down and hazed over. A dull, mind numbing, wave of emotions swirled in her brain as all sense of time was lost till eventually it wound itself into a ball and exploded against the back of her eyelids. The heat began to fade, leaving a chill across her skin. Her head felt empty and tired. Mentally she couldn't string two coherent thoughts together. Her body felt loose, and her eyes watered as a tear slid down. 

"Hey, it's over." Bucky was catching his breath as he held her head in his hand, looking into her eyes, "it's over," her gaze was distant. 

"Shit." Bucky held onto her, held her close as he began rummaging through the duffle bag, "Come on, there you are." Bucky returned to Y/N, "Y/N, doll, I need you to take this. It will help, can you do that?"

Y/N Glanced down at the small syringe in his hand, "What is it?" The words slurred and tired.

"It will let you sleep till we get back and Bruce can help." Bucky replied softly. 

The tears began to stream down her face, "I'm feeling everything. At once."

“I know. It’s the drug, a side effect.” Bucky took her hand, “Sleep will help.”

“Okay,” Y/N shook her head as she sniffled. Within moments of the liquid entering her blood stream, Y/N's eyes became heavy, and her body relaxed as she drifted off. Bucky gently maneuvered her, placing her on her side across several seats. He fixed her suit, now ripped wide open from navel down to her exposed thighs, her breasts out on display. He pulled the sides of the fabric, covering her the best he could before he grabbed one of the packs of the on-board pillows and blankets, ripping it out of its packaging. He positioned the small pillow under her head and draped the blanket over her body before cleaning himself up and making his way to the cockpit. 

Bucky listened and waited for her to fall into a deep sleep before grabbing the headset. "Friday, please connect me with Steve and Bruce."

"Right away," Friday responded as two small transparent screens appeared in front of Bucky's face. 

Steve's face was scrunched as he slowly woke up, "Hey, what time is it?"

"Two." Bruce replied as he did a double take, pulling on his glasses, "In the morning."

"There's been a situation," Bucky's voice was low, Steve's attention was immediately caught, and he finally took in Bucky's appearance, "We came into contact…with a substance," Bucky looked back again making sure Y/N was still out, "It was developed by Hydra for their breeding program, they called it copulation stimulant, but everyone referred to it as sex pollen." As the Quinet silently made the trek back to the compound, Bucky filled them in.

Bucky tossed and turned in bed, he rolled over, sheets tangled around his legs and stared up at the ceiling. Taking a deep breath he reached over for his phone, the screen turned on showing it was only mid-morning. 

He rubbed his face before kicking his sheets off and sitting up on the edge of the bed. He stared down at his floor, his mind taking over sucking him back into that moment. Flashes of Y/N's face, filled with fear, overwhelmed with emotions and emptiness played on repeat. 

He blinked away the images as he made his way out of his room. Bucky walked down the hall towards Steve's room. 

Steve sat at his table; papers strewn about as he caught up on his paperwork. He heard the knock before Bucky walked in. 

"How are you feelin'?" Steve asked as Bucky slumped into a chair, aimlessly picking up a piece of paper, setting it back down, not interested. 

"How is she?" Is all Bucky asked. 

Steve pushed a tablet towards him, "Medically speaking, she's okay, nothing more than a few bruises."

Bucky looked down at the screen, a mission report, currently on the recorded incidents page. His eyes instantly skimmed and settled on Y/N's list of injuries before swiping through the rest of the report.

"I decided not to include the details." Steve continued as Bucky sat the tablet down with an exhale. Steve slowly set down the pen as he leaned back in his chair slightly. "Buck, how are you?"

"Angry." Bucky shook his head. "For me to go through it again, fine. But not her."

"Did Hydra use this stuff often?" Steve's brow pulled up softly. 

Bucky's lips flashed a sad smile with a huff of a laugh, "It cycled through. They called it a compliance tool." He looked at his friend, "Sometimes they would call it a reward." 

"Jesus." Steve let out under his breath. 

“They had an endless supply of compliance tools and rewards.” Bucky shrugged slightly, "I'm okay Steve, honestly.”

"I was going to go check on her in a bit.” Steve leaned forward and picked up his pen again as he glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Bruce gave her something to help her sleep more, rest is probably the best for her right now, so she probably won't be stirring for another hour or two." Bucky nodded his head slightly as Steve spoke.

Steve watched as Bucky began to slip back into his thoughts. "Hey," His voice pulled Bucky's eyes to him. "You guys will be dancing around each other again soon enough."

"I told her." Bucky's confession came out softly. "How I feel, right before I railed her brains out in a fit of uncontrollable horny rage." 

“I’m sorry, what?” Steve sat staring at his friend, “You thought, that after being exposed to a chemical weapon used to sexually exploit their victims, yeah this is a good time to confess my feelings to the woman I’ve been absolutely obsessed with since the first day I saw her?”

"Yup," Bucky popped the p, "In my defense she confessed first.”

“Unbelievable,” Steve pinched, “Why are you two like this?”

“In love? Or Insane?” Bucky asked back with a shrug,

Steve crossed his arms as he leaned back, “Go talk to her you jerk."

…

Y/N’s room was dark, every curtain pulled tight and not a single light was on. She had woken up several times only to roll over and fall back asleep, not wanting or ready to face the world yet. She lay on her belly, letting herself lay there, her head spiraling with thoughts. She grabbed for her phone, the brightness from the screen making her recoil, it was already close to two in the afternoon. She rolled back over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. 

“What's wrong with me?” She asked quietly to herself. 

She never wanted to experience sex pollen again, it scared her to her core to have her own free will taken away. Her heartbeat picked up as she thought about it, a panic slowly bubbling. She took a deep breath, “We can ride this out.” His words echoed in her head. “I wanted to take you out on a date. Treat you like a queen. My queen.” Her heart stuttered a moment as she took another deep breath. 

A knock at her door drew her attention. Slowly she rose from her bed, just as she approached the door another soft knock came. She reached for the handle and opened it to find Bucky standing with a paper bag in hand.

She stared at him, her words stuck in her throat, “Team ordered out, I got your favorite.” Bucky held the paper bag up. “I, um, I wanted to check in and.."  He paused as he shrugged.

Y/N could see the anxiety and pain behind his eyes. She stepped closer to him, her hands coming to the sides of his torso and sliding back, as she hugged him. 

As if on que Y/N stomach growled and she let out a small laugh. She pulled back, taking the bag from Bucky. “Thank you, I don't think I ate anything in the med bay when we got back.” She turned into the room, “Wanna come in?"

As Y/N walked back in, she flicked on a few lamps, creating a soft glow. Bucky closed the door behind him, unsure of what to do. Her desk was sitting just far away to be awkward but the only other place to sit would be her bed, somewhere he had never thought twice about before as he would just sit down or jump in. Now? He was acutely aware of his actions, and it created a ball of anxiety in the pit of his stomach.

“Bucky, you're welcome to sit on my bed.” Y/N noticed his hesitation.

He shrugged. “I didn't want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“You aren't” Y/N said as she pulled a plate down from a cabinet in her Kitchenette. 

Bucky paused for a moment before taking a deep breath, "What's going through your head?" Y/N stopped what she was doing, food forgotten as he continued. "Be honest."

Y/N turned, leaning against the counter, to face him. She crossed her arms as she took a moment to bring her words forward, "Did you mean what you said?" her question was soft and quiet. "Your queen." She blinked her gaze up to his.

Bucky let out a huff of a laugh, the corner of his mouth pulling up, “I remember the day you arrived at the compound.” He continued. “That morning Steve and I were set to leave to go on a recon mission. We were going back to the Siberian Hydra base; I hadn't been back since the airport incident. I was an absolute mess leading up to it.” Bucky looked down at his hands as he absentmindedly followed the lines and seams of his metal finger with this flesh. “I probably shouldn't have gone.” He paused again. “I had come so far, the words out of my head, a family around me and I had finally thought I found peace. Yet the moment I stepped back into that room, I looked upon that pit with that monstrosity of a machine still sitting there. I lost it. It instantly triggered a spiral of anger and I felt pushed right back down to my lowest existence.” Bucky kept his eyes trained on the floor. “Steve watched as I destroyed the machine, before helping me calm down. We got the answers we needed, well Steve got the answers we needed. When we got back, I was so far stuck in my head, but then I heard this laughter, it was light and contagious.” Bucky looked up at Y/N who was giving him her full attention. “Your laughter.”

“I followed that sound, until I saw you. Sitting at the counter, a smile on your face and I swear I had never seen anything more beautiful in my life. For the first time since I could remember I could feel this spark of a flame ignite inside of me.” Bucky continued. “This spark that created light and hope and feeling. It only grew. Day after day. It grew with your kindness and confidence. Your strength and your intelligence. That day you took Steve down, he played it off, but I knew that you had genuinely taken him by surprise, I could see it in his eyes. So, I let myself fall in love, I let that light grow into a raging blaze. Until I found myself trying to muster up the courage to tell you while simultaneously trying not to take you where you stood. Ask me again, ask me if I meant what I said.”

Tears were building up in Y/N’s eyes, “Did you mean it?”

"Every word." There was no hesitation in his response as he didn't look away. "I would worship every inch of your mind and body, if you'd let me."

The world began to fade away as Y/N's heart began to beat faster. Bucky's words swirled in her head as she tried to comprehend their meaning as if she couldn't believe them. Bucky sat patiently watching as Y/N slowly walked up to him. Her gaze uncertain, he could feel the tension in the air, as the line they both were hesitant to cross was quickly approaching.

Y/N tentatively stepped between his legs. She could feel the tug of war between her anxiety and adrenaline as she reached to touch his face. She moved her thumb across his jaw, Bucky could see her mind taking off.

He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, "Look at me." Y/N stood quiet for a moment as she took in his unwavering gaze. "What do you need?”

Y/N took a deep breath, "To be your queen.”

He gently pulled her closer. His lips pressed against hers, a tingling sensation ran through her body. Y/N felt Bucky’s hands gently slide down to the crook of her knees. He pulled her up onto his lap, sliding his hands over her thighs following the curve of her ass, before pulling her flush as he deepened the kiss. His lips moved against hers with a gentle urgency as they began to get lost in each other. In that moment, nothing else mattered - no worries or fears, no past or future. There was only the heat of the moment, the electricity between them.

Y/N let her fingers sink back into his hair, tugging slightly, as a low moan tumbled from Bucky’s mouth. “I need more.” Y/N said as Bucky kissed down to the nape of her neck.

He slid his hands up under the hem on her shirt, letting them slowly trail up her sides. Her chest heaved as his thumbs ghosted the underside of her breasts. 

She pulled herself off him, sliding herself back to stand between his legs again, slowly she pulled her shirt up and over her head. He reached up and pulled his own shirt over his head, discarding it. He leaned back, picking up his hips as he pulled his pants down, kicking them off. His length sprung up to full attention and Y/N’s eyes dilated. She stood back admiring Bucky, taking in his sheer size, she bit her lip as her core began to pulse. 

“Come here,” Bucky’s words pulled her in like a lure.

As she climbed back on his lap her hands came to the side of his face and pulled him into her lips. A breathy sigh of a moan escaped Y/N. She lifted herself up on her knees, pushing him slightly back to get to the right angle. She could feel his tip resting at her entrance.

Bucky nudged her nose with his, getting her to look at him. She held eye contact as she slowly slid down, feeling herself stretch around him until she bottomed out. A broken gasp fell from Y/N as the feeling of fullness made her body shutter, Bucky’s stomach twitched in response. She slowly began to roll her hips. His hands squeezed her thighs as he let out a swallowed moan. Her pace quickened until her hips began to fall out of rhythm as she desperately chased her release. 

"That's it sweetheart," His words of encouragement doused in an aroused tone. He felt her sides flutter. He could feel her pressing down on him. He kissed the edge of her jaw as his other hand cupped the back of her head before slowly sliding his lips down her neck. Grazing over her nipples. Another flutter. Her hand slid up into his hair and gently pulled him closer, pressing her nipple to his lips.  The way she took what she wanted made him feral. "Fuck" Bucky whispered. The sound was low and guttural, skittering over her skin like wildfire. 

With every heavy breath a moan escaped. With the last roll of her hips her orgasm exploded through her. Y/N's let out a choked moan as her knees clenched together on either side of Bucky. She felt his metal fingers splayed across her back and his flesh held onto her waist. 

Still fully seated, She let her head fall onto his shoulder as she attempted to catch her breath. Bucky pressed his lips to the other side of her neck before tipping her head back up to see her face. She felt like she was floating in euphoria.

"Feeling good?" Bucky's hand cradled her head. 

A smile spread on her face as she nodded into his hand. "I need more."

Bucky pulled her face to his, guiding her to his lips. Kissing her slowly as he reached his hands behind her, sliding them down her back. He began kissing down her neck and chest as she leaned back slightly. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, feeling Y/N pulse around his sheathed member. He let it fall from his mouth watching the soft skin bounce slightly before latching on again. Y/N squirmed, grinding down, desperate for any movement. 

Bucky gripped her hips and pressed her down further as he worshipped her chest. "James," His name came out as a broken whine. 

"Say that again." Bucky instructed, "Say my name."

"Ja-ahhhh-mes" He sucked her nipple again as she spoke. 

He smirked slightly as he slid his hands under her ass and stood up, Y/N held on as Bucky turned them around and dropped her on the bed. Y/N rubbed her thighs together from the loss of friction. Bucky watched for a moment before Y/N let her legs fall open. Splayed fully open for him, Bucky instantly crawled over, his breath against her sex making her shutter. His lips trailed kisses up her stomach. 

“How many nights have you imagined me like this?” A low chuckle came from Bucky, “Not just nights, and not just this.” He sucked her nipple between his teeth, making her gasp, before he soothed the shock away with his tongue. Y/N’s fingers ghosted over his hairline as she slid them back into his hair, he looked up at her and his eyes darkened as he sunk down and ran his tongue flat against her core. 

Her fingers curled, pulling his hair as her back arched off the bed. Electricity buzzed and exploded up over her body. His hands gripped her hips, keeping her from going too far.

Y/N fell further into bliss as Bucky explored her folds with his tongue. Soft moans spilled between her breaths. She gasped as he slowly inserted a finger, moving it in and out, then two, he felt her walls constrict as he slowly moved and curled his fingers. Y/N began to rock her hips against his face. His lips captured her clit sucking softly before pulling back, letting it fall from his lips. Y/N’s mouth fell open as the filthiest moan fell from her lips. 

He began rubbing his lips and tongue against her in a smooth pattern that felt like a love letter. Her hands gripped his, slipping back to his wrists as she writhed with him, completely letting him guide her over the edge. 

A choked moan came as Y/N’s legs squeezed Bucky’s head. She involuntarily curled up. Bucky wiped his mouth as he sat back on his knees, bringing his fingers up, sucking them clean.

He reached down and grasped her thighs, pulling them up and over his. He leaned back down, letting his hands slide up her torso, up and under her breasts, as his lips found hers once more. 

Y/N could feel his tip at her entrance, and it sent a shiver down her spine. 

She clung to his shoulders, nails dragging across his skin as he slowly pushed himself to his base. She felt the stretch as Bucky began to roll his hips, slowly dragging himself in and out. He began to pick up his pace, to read her body and follow her needs. Y/N hand snaked back around Bucky’s neck, as he sat back up on his knees, she clung to him as he continued his relentless pace. Y/N gripped onto the back of his neck with one hand as she found his knee with her other hand, propping herself up. There was no need however, as Bucky held her up, with his metal hand firmly on her ass and his flesh arm wrapped around the small of her back. He watched as her eyes rolled back into her head, his lips catch and dragged up her neck before sucking on her pulse.

Y/N’s body trembled as she fought to hold back, selfishly wanting more yet not knowing if she could take it. 

She felt her core wound as tight as it would go, unable to hold on to it any longer, she let go. Her body shuttered and Bucky could feel her orgasm pulse around him, squeeze him. He continued, fucking her through, dragging her out as far as he could. He was close and couldn't take it anymore. He let Y/N fall back onto the bed, as he pulled out and finished on her stomach. 

Their breathing was heavy as Bucky leaned over once more, bringing his hand up to Y/N face, her eyes glossed over in euphoria. “Are you okay?’

“Yeah,” She shook her head as she let out a sigh, “More than,”

A smile spread across Bucky’s face as he kissed her, “I am going to go get the shower ready for you, is that okay?”

Y/N Shook her head again before gently pressing her lips to his. “I need to lay here for a moment.”

“You just lay here and look pretty,” Bucky pulled himself off the bed.

Bucky walked into the bathroom, turning the water on to let it warm up. He quickly washed himself and cleaned up before setting up the bathroom for Y/N. He pulled a fresh towel out, placing it in the warmer next to the shower. A purchase that at first, he thought was ridiculous but has since rescinded that opinion. 

He heard Y/N soft pitter pats as she walked in, the steam beginning to form and build. “All set, towel is in the warmer.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said as she made her way to the shower.

“Don't be too long, your food will get cold.” Bucky kissed her forehead before he left Y/N to clean up as he went back out and continued to reheat the food, he had gotten for her. While the microwave hummed, he stripped the bed and stretched new sheets from corner to corner. Laid out the blankets and pulled them back slightly ready for Y/N to crawl in. 

He pulled down another plate for himself before playing up the food. Just as he finished cleaning up Y/N walked out. “Smells good.” She came up to Bucky’s side, wrapping a hand around his arm, leaning against his shoulder. “I am so hungry,” a laugh escaped Y/N, her head moved slightly as Bucky moved his arm. “Go eat, I’ll be right there with some water.”

“Thank you,” Y/N grabbed the plate and took a deep smell through her nose and smiled. “You really did get my favorite.” She said as she settled in on the bed and took a bite.

Bucky sat a cup of water down on her side table before crawling in to join her, “I know. I know all your favorites.”

“Oh?” Y/N asked as she took another bite. 

“And I have the rest of the night to figure out the ones I don't know.” A blush spread across Y/N’s cheeks. 

“I am looking forward to it.” She smiled as she glanced over at Bucky. “I could get use to this queen shit.”

“Oh, you just wait Doll,” Bucky replied. “I am just getting started.”

-End-

[tardisblueten]

Desperate To Cool Off

[Tenth Doctor x Reader smut]

Content warning: SMUT (18+ ONLY), sex pollen, (slight) breeding kink! fem reader, riding, creampie, kinddd of subby/whiney/desperate doctor.

Summary: The Doctor and his companion accidentally get a hold of an aphrodisiac pollen on an alien planet.

Notes: This is my first time writing any kind of creative fiction really since MIDDLE SCHOOL... so please bare with me and let me know what you think! <3

The day started off typical. Well, typical for the Doctor and his companion. The Tardis had just abruptly landed in the middle of an exotic rainforest on an alien planet. The two of you stepped out of the Tardis and took in the breathtaking scenery. Beautiful alien trees and colorful vegetation surrounded you in every direction. Foreign bird-like, and insect-like creatures chirped and buzzed loudly. The forest floor was coated with twisting bright green vines that were dampened from the last rainfall. You wasted no time running off to explore, your face beaming with excitement. The Doctor smiled fondly at how cute you are when you’re excited.

You spent the adventure gawking at the outlandish plants. “Oh that’s an Arthropodemorus.” The Doctor informed you as you leaned in to get a closer look at the bizarre plant with teeth. “It kind of reminds me of a-” “Venus fly trap?” The Doctor cut you off, smugly grinning with his hands in his pockets. You glared at him and playfully rolled your eyes, “Yes.” Sometimes the know-it-all attitude of the Doctor annoyed you, but it definitely didn’t make you love him any less. “Distant cousins! They eat the pesky insects native to this planet. Helps keep them from over-populating the ecosystem.” He smiled.

“Oooh what about this one?” You were mesmerized by a beautifully weird looking flower, about the size of your head, just to the left of you. You crouched down to its level and the Doctor leaned over you to inspect the large plant. It had gorgeous thin spiky petals that faded from white to a deep purple. The middle part of the flower was an ominous dark red with a giant green stigma and stamens erecting from it. “Oh dear…” The Doctor nervously murmured. “Isn’t this just beautiful…” You whispered, inching in even closer to admire it. “Y/N… If I’m not mistaken, that’s a very dangerous plant-” The Doctor urgently tugged on your elbow, trying to get you to stand up. “I think it’s best if we took a step back just for safety precautions because-” 

Before you could even fully process the Doctor’s rambling, the flower suddenly puckered and viciously spat out an enormous thick cloud of yellow dust. It hit you right in the face causing you to jolt back and fall onto the ground. The Doctor stumbled back, nearly falling over himself as the cloud infiltrated his nostrils too. The both of you were stunned, coughing and choking on the cloud of gold pollen that slowly wafted throughout the surrounding area. “Y/N…” The Doctor gasped out between wheezy coughs. He fanned the air with one hand and helped you up to your wobbling feet with his other as you both struggled to breathe. The Doctor led the two of you back to the safety of the Tardis in a hurry, running as fast as both of your wobbly legs could carry you, nearly tripping on the exotic vines and roots of the forest floor. 

The Doctor slammed the Tardis door behind him. He leaned against it in distress as he hacked more. You ran towards the console and let your weak body crash to the floor. You both heaved for a few moments, desperately trying to catch your breath and finally breathe in some clean air. You looked up at the Doctor who was across the room. He was limply sitting on the floor, back leaning against the Tardis door, limbs sprawled out pathetically, chest heaving exhaustedly, face glistening with sweat and flushed bright pink, tickled with a few remaining particles of the golden irritant. His hair was more wild than usual, a few tendrils in the front clung to his face from the sweat. He looked so… good… That was all you could think as you weakly laid there and looked up at the man through your damp eyelashes. 

Your pink cheeks felt like they were on fire. There was an all consuming heat that burned you inside out. You felt beyond intoxicated. Your clothes clung to your sticky, sweaty body. All you wanted to do was rip your clothes off, to get some kind of relief from this dreadful heat. “Doctor…” You cried out to him from the floor. He would know how to fix this.  Whatever this was. You tried to stand up, your legs trembled and you almost fell back down on the way up.

“Y/N…” The Time Lord grunted as he shot out his palm to you, gesturing for you to stay away. He started to remove his overcoat and unbutton his dress shirt, desperate to cool off. “Don’t… don’t come any closer.” His voice was tired and hoarse from the violent coughing fit from earlier. “Doctor… please… What do I do?” You cried out helplessly again, slowly stumbling towards him despite his orders. You tugged at your shirt that was sticking to you.

The Doctor tried his best to be a gentleman and avert his gaze to anything else but he just couldn’t. Your shirt was drenched in your sweat, making it nearly completely see through and revealing the neon pink bra you wore. There was a deep ache he felt between his legs. “Doctor please…” You whined again. “I’m so hot.” You crumpled to the ground just a few feet in front of him. 

All the Doctor could do was just stare. But he wanted nothing more than to help you. You were his companion. He cared about you. He hated seeing you in so much distress like this. He needed to help you.

“T-take off your clothes…” He panted. Your head shot up at him and you quickly nodded. You wasted no time in ripping off your wet shirt and discarding it thoughtlessly. If it would rid you of this mind numbing heat, you would do anything he said. You sat up on your knees and hurriedly attempted to undo your jeans. Your shaky hands foolishly fumbled with the button. You gasped as your eyes caught the Doctor’s hands skillfully working on his own buttons of his white undershirt. His hands were so much larger than your own…Your mind started to wander off to the thought of what his fingers would feel like on you. In you. You felt a strong twinge between your thighs. You swiftly yanked down your jeans and the fire that took over your body was finally starting to extinguish just the tiniest bit. You sighed in relief and collapsed onto the Doctor, drunkenly throwing your arms around his bare shoulders. You felt sparks on your damp skin when it made contact with his. It still wasn’t near enough though.

All the Doctor could feel was your bra clad breasts squishing against his flushed jaw, and his trousers tightening. He knew exactly what this was. He knew from the moment he saw the deceitfully beautiful flower. He knew exactly what was happening. He knew exactly how much time you had until all hell broke loose. He knew exactly what the only antidote was. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t do this to his best friend. It wasn’t professional and it broke all his codes. But the heat between his legs was only growing stronger and stronger. And he knew it was only a matter of time before he wouldn’t be able to control it any longer. 

The man gently pushed you off of him and anxiously but firmly placed his hands on your shoulders. The contact made your shoulders feel like they had just been struck by lightning. “Y/N…” He gulped as he looked into your dilated eyes. “That pollen that we got sprayed with… It was… an aphrodisiac.” His tone was low, a tone you’ve never heard come from him before. A tone that rumbled throughout your skeleton and deep into your core. “Y/N do you understand me?” Your eyes were glazed over, lids heavy. “Doctor…” You whispered, staring at his perfect plush lips. Your eyes traveled down to his exposed torso. His skin looked so soft. There was a faint red patch between his pectorals from the warmth. You wanted so badly to just glide your fingers over it. Kiss it. Taste his salty, sweaty heat on your lips, tongue. “The native race sometimes uses it to help with m-mating rituals…” His voice was urgent, anxious. Just the word ‘mating’ made you pitifully clench on nothing. You felt so empty. You needed so badly to be filled. “The side effects can include dizziness, intense hot flashes and…” You stared up at him, lips parted and eyes dilated with want. No. Need. “Intense sexual desire.” 

Your tits were threatening to burst out of your bra with every heavy breath you heaved. Your chest was glistening with sweat. The Doctor’s eyes traveled down to your panties that had a wet stain soaked through right where your clit would be. His breath caught in his throat at the sight. His throbbing dick was so hard and all he wanted was to be buried deep inside you. Put a baby in you. “Y/N…” He sighed quietly. 

His hot breath was centimeters away from your face. You hastily closed the gap and kissed his lips feverishly. The growing desire between your thighs was taking over you. You needed relief. There was nothing else that occupied your mind other than him. His fingers. His lips. His tongue. His body. His dick. You pushed him down onto his back and straddled his lap, deepening the passionate kiss with your tongue. The Doctor gasped into your mouth and fought back with his own tongue. There was spit pooling at both of your mouths but it only made you kiss him harder. You felt like you would die if you didn’t have him inside you right now. 

Your hands extended down between you and him to quickly take off his slacks and discard them without breaking the animalistic kiss. His large hands reached behind your back to unclasp the hooks of your pink bra. “Need you,” He breathed into your mouth. Your tits sprung out almost cartoonishly after your bra was removed. “Need to make these get even fuller.” He wasted no time grabbing at your boobs and gently tweaking and massaging the nipples, making you moan and writhe. You grabbed at his brown locks, tugging hard which made him jump and whine loudly. It was a pathetic, squeaky sound coming from a man such as him. It only made you wetter. With his slacks off, you could better feel his twitching bulge beneath you. You shifted your hips, grinding his aching erection against your throbbing clit. You sucked at his neck and grinded harder. The both of you moaned loudly. “It's not enough,” He panted, eyes shut tight and hands gripping your hips. You couldn’t agree more. “Fuck, I need you darling.” He growled. 

His hand snaked down between the two of you to push down his briefs and pull out his rigid cock. You didn’t have time to gawk at the size of him because he was already urgently pushing your panties to the side and lining his dick up with your soaked cunt. He teased your clit with the tip and threw his head back at just the mere touch. “Fuck, there’s no time for that.” You panted as you swiftly grabbed his dick and sat on it. You both watched the obscene view of your drenched pussy slowly swallowing his stiff pink cock. You leaned in towards his handsome face as you grabbed the sides of his cheeks, both of you moaning in pleasure. The Doctor’s jaw hung open in a heavenly expression you swore would make you cum right there. Your body tensed up as he finally slid all the way in you. You finally felt so full. 

“Shi-” The Doctor exclaimed as you started bouncing on his dick. “I need you- Fuck- I need you.” He kept chanting over and over underneath you as you desperately rode him. You moaned in ecstasy and threw your head back, screwing your eyes shut, holding his hands tightly on either side of his head as if you were about to collapse if you didn’t hold onto him. “Your pussy-” He gasped. “‘Squeezing me so tight… Fuck- You got me so close already,” He admitted, too intoxicated with the pollen to be embarrassed that he was already nearing the edge. You rode him harder, faster, deeper. His length kissing parts of you so deep you didn’t even know existed. Your heart was banging wildly against your chest. There was only one thought that equally took over both of your minds.

The Doctor gasped harshly and gripped your hips so tight that your eyes shot open at him. “Need to- fuck- fill you up.” He groaned. Your pussy tightened around him at his words and the man grabbed the back of your hair, pushing you down closer to his face. His lower abdomen was rubbing against your clit oh so right with every thrust making you squeak with intense pleasure. “Oh fuck!” He moaned loudly into your mouth as he felt his balls tighten. He held you tightly and lovingly as he frantically bucked his hips into your pussy. The base of his cock was dripping with your abundant amount of slick, sliding against your sensitive clit over and over. You whined as your walls clamped down on his cock. The man couldn’t even form a word, he just let out a loud moan as his thrusts into you got more and more erratic and desperate. Your mind could only focus on the sole thought of milking his cock dry and suddenly you were on the verge of cumming. The Doctor was already dangerously close, but as soon as he felt your body tense up, and your walls pulsing around him, he pushed you closer against him and tightened the grip on your ass. Your orgasm took over your body. Intense waves of ecstasy washing over you making you cry out. The Doctor groaned out. Your cunt spasmed around the man’s cock as he shot large hot ropes of cum deep inside your pussy. His hips finally started sputtering but more cum just kept filling you up. 

You fell limp against his broad chest as you struggled to catch your breath. The time lord’s hips slowly halted to a stop, his moans turning into sensitive whimpers as your pussy still spasmed around his spent cock. You laid on top of him, his cock still inside you, panting heavy. You hugged each other close, and gently stroked each other’s hair.

“I feel better.” You finally said after some time of just recovering and resting on top of him. The fire within the both of you was finally extinguished. The once thick and humid air of the Tardis suddenly felt so much cooler and crisp. The Doctor looked at you adoringly and smiled, “Me too.”

[riverbends]

vacillator 18+

[jack abbot x samira mohan]

part one: red zone | mdni | dystopian AU | ao3

tags: explicit sexual content, outdoor oral (m receiving), creepy sex pollen ergo dubcon, horror themes, descriptions of gore (body horror kinda?), dead animals, supernatural/mythological elements, umm porn with plot first wc: 5.6k note: yar i thought it was too gross so i deleted this but thank elise for noticing its absence

She fixed the latch on the cage under the beam of his flashlight with a clean tug. Pencil-thin iron bars encaging the fresh, mangled carcass of a cottontail. The top of the cage remained open to welcome its subject with false sustenance. Sighing, she braced her hands on her knees to rise back up to his level.

“That’s my last one. What a shit way to go,” she said, woefully admiring her work. Main course for the grotesque. “Sucks. She was adorable.”

Jack laughed out his scoff, momentarily shaking the light off the dead animal. “Just be glad you’re not the rabbit.” Samira could only glower at him. He looked to his side, finding her dimly lit frown in the residual glow of the flashlight between them. “What? What did I do this time?”

She shook her head, no longer bothered. Instead, she reached around her bag in search of disinfectant, slathering it on her hands before wiping the excess on her pants. “Aren’t you like fifty?”

“Not yet,” he flicked off the light in spite. Playfully, of course. “What’s my age got to do with anything?”

“Turn it back on,” she gritted, seizing the torch from his grasp when he obeyed. He didn’t usually put up a fight. “Grow up.”

Jack whistled, clean and straight. Amused. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Don’t whistle,” Samira snapped over her shoulder. “Bad omens.”

The ground surrendered to the soles of their boots, carrying them through this corner of the Appalachian Mountains with minor struggle. Moonlight fell between the spread of branches, speckling the sea of flora to reflect the night sky. They could see the air catching their breaths in front of them, condensed into sheer little clouds. To protect them from the cold during patrol, they wore long cargo pants and bulky jackets with woollen insides. Carried backpacks weighed with tools and gadgets and food, but not so heavy that it would hold them back in the very likely event where they’d have to break into a sprint at some point. They were lucky there had not yet been such an occasion on duty together.

Samira led on with the torch while Jack grumbled behind her.

“Many people my age still make jokes, we’re not all that bad,” he teased, poking her side.

“Then make better jokes,” she dismissed, stopping momentarily to sidestep the glistening octagon of a spiderweb. He mirrored her movement. “Also, watch your feet.”

“I know, I’m the one who set the traps in this sector,” he said. Sucked his tongue and shook his head, laughably disappointed. If it were up to him, he’d set her right. Show her exactly who she’s talking to. He was almost entirely sure she’d give in as well.

Neither of them bothered to give a name to, let alone acknowledge, whatever had brewed between them when they were first paired up for zone patrol. Maybe his hand would find the small of her back when they treaded over uneven ground, or she’d sit up close to him on their breaks after settling on the forest floor, usually leaning back against a tree trunk. She’d excuse herself and say something about the cold at night, but he’d feel the heat of her body giving her away.

Her elbow digging into his bicep, her thigh slowly creeping up to lay against his as they talked about things he could never really recall because the unspoken insistence of her proximity only had him thinking about one thing. Or many things about one thing. Things he was itching to do to her, even out here in this cursed mountain range in the dead of night. Especially out here.

Wondered if she ever noticed the bulge swelling below his belly whenever she nestled into his side. If she ever raised her thigh a bit higher over his or bent it at some ninety-degree angle in these instances, he could guarantee she’d feel the imprint just under her the side of her knee. Hard and throbbing.

Jack didn’t mind if the lines were blurred. Kept him entertained, really. They were comfortable enough to practically rub up on each other, and comfortable enough to toss banter back and forth. Though, tonight, she seemed a little too tender to the touch. Everything he said appeared to hit a nerve.

Back at the collective, he never fought his attraction to her, only kept it at bay. Still breaking a wild horse in his round pen. But something about this part of the woodlands always had his cock weighing heavier, got him all playful and brazen around her. He knew, though, that it was one of the many dangers of lurking in the mountains. Symptoms, more like. Heightened emotions, hyperactivity, turbulent hormones (elevated libido, in Jack’s case) – just to name a few. Something in the air at these dark hours. Tree branches arching down as if to reach out for them.

It had worsened over time, weaving in and out of their missions together. Assigned to inspect the northern regions of the Appalachians running through Pennsylvania. The dreaded night duty. Though, it was usually alright. The both of them had dealt with far worse in the deep ends of these woods. (The countless horrors that occurred were usually never spoken of more than once. Maybe addressed in a council meeting after the fact. But, for those patrolling the shadows, you were probably better off swallowing down the fear than letting it swallow you).

Strict and sustained protocol warned everybody on duty to be wary of certain zones—namely, red zones. Twelve of the most hazardous plots of forestry, identifiable by the bright red markers on bordering tree trunks—for anything slightly out of the ordinary. Even each other. Samira only knew half as much about the dangers as Jack did and, even then, these woodlands never failed to surprise him.

He was only nineteen when everything changed (Samira liked to remind him she wasn’t even born yet), his father tore him out of bed in the middle of the night and dragged him down the stairs, still half asleep. A cacophony of sirens singing from various speakers outside his house. Around the neighbourhood, around the town. All over the country.

The mutilated bodies were scattered across the streets where people screamed and bolted. At first, he couldn’t even properly panic. A state of pure, razor-edged shock had sliced him clean. Just paralysis. Mouth parted in simple confusion at the pandemonium unfolding before himself and his parents. After all those years, he could still remember the feel of a wet, mushy substance under his bare foot. Fat, swollen tube-like shape.

To his utter horror, he realised he had stepped on somebody’s unspooled intestines. Short, hurried pants shot out from his lungs as he jumped back and clung to his father.

Then, those things. A lone one, several feet away from them. Some fucked-up hybrid crossing itself halfway between a lizard and a dog. The top of its head would’ve been roughly level with his shoulder. Sharp green scales vibrated down its spine; all four legs, long and disgustingly jutted out. A strange coat of some iridescent, slippery substance matting its patches of hair. Oozed past its canines and drooped slowly out of its ugly, open maw to pool on the ground around its disfigured paws. The eyes made his heart stutter.

Hollowed out but still gleaming. Turning. Like somebody had scooped deeper into its sockets and poured bubbling ink into the cavities. He watched them flicker in his direction. The sound that came out of it upon seeing him was a stark warning. A whispered scream, almost as piercing as the sirens.

Had their neighbour not fired his shotgun, Jack and his family would’ve ended up torn and strewn across their front lawn. Instead, hours later, they had returned to find only parts of the man. Shotgun still clutched in his severed hand; his calves ripped to shreds. The rest of him was either lying across the road or churning inside a hot belly.

Evacuation camps and crisis centres were set up in every state for the next three months, all guarded by military personnel and 30-foot walls with active electric fencing. Advised by his father, Jack joined junior combat teams and climbed the ranks within a few years.

After a decade, most camps had been overrun and the population dwindled. A large portion of deaths being a result of those deathly hounds, while the majority had actually been enacted by other unknown creatures that everyone remaining would soon come to learn about in due time. Countless people had also ultimately disappeared without a trace.

No more military, just individual combat and protective services. There were now only a handful of active camps, this one being dubbed the ‘collective’ by its inhabitants. The council was assembled in the early days, remaining one of the main constants since the old world.

Now, Jack had settled. Patrolling was easier on him, almost grounding. When asked why he stepped down from his position of delegate, he’d simply answer that he needed a change of pace. But he’d been meaning to leave the council for years, realising that real concerns were never real priorities. He didn’t want to be part of the reason that the collective fell to pieces in the years to come.

Coinciding with Jack’s withdrawal from the council, Samira had lost her patrol partner on duty. Zones all the way south, where some of the darker things took place. A red zone. She knew she had crossed over, saw the red markers on the bark of tree trunks and took the risk anyway. Not even an hour into patrol, full moon washing over the forest as she trudged through tangled foliage in search of her until she found her flashlight beaming on the ground.

It shone bright upon the girl’s torn head. Eyes wrenched open, frozen in terror. Mouth gaping. Samira felt her stomach lurch like it was ready to make her cough up her dinner. It took everything in her not to outwardly react in a way that drew attention to herself. She just backed away, holding her breath, feeling her insides tense and tighten with dread. Handgun clutched in her palm as she raised it, arms straightened out before her to scan her surroundings. The silencer locked firm in place. Then, that hushed scream and a shadow to her left.

A blur of motion and muffled shots. The strangled whine of the end of a life, and then a heavy thud vibrating the forest floor.

Samira finally breathed, choked out stunted, fractured exhalations. Three of her bullets, softened by the silencer, neatly pierced through its skull and punctured the brain before it had the chance to charge at her. With shaking hands, she reached for her walkie.

“Red zone A12...red. Breached. Red,” she whispered, teeth chattering. “Night patrol down.”

Samira was shortly reassigned to inspect a new sector further north with none other than Jack Abbot, who, for months, could not seem to reel himself in around her.

Maybe it was just the simple fact that he found himself alone with a young woman in the middle of the woodlands two nights every week at a time where unnecessary contact and intimacy in the collective were usually advised against by the council. A lot of things were advised against by the council. Not that he ever cared, though. Being a former delegate still afforded him the privilege of disregard for policy. He had never been one to fall in line anyway. Policy and protocol be damned.

While Jack wrestled with his magnified compulsions behind her, Samira skirted shrubs and burrows like they offended her. She didn’t want to admit how much his earlier comment had stung.

“You’re in a mood tonight,” she broke the silence. “Cockier than usual.”

“And you’re being mean.”

“Hm.”

“But, no, I’m just fed up,” he said. She heard him stopping. “Those things don’t want carcasses, they’re smarter than that. I’ve told the council for years, but they never listen. There’s a reason why people are getting snatched up again.” Samira paused, turned halfway to meet his gaze. The look on his face was more than genuine, and she hated when he was right about things that she hesitated to admit to herself. He was always right. “Living, breathing food - that’s what we are. Traps and bait are pointless, and I know you know that. Predators ravage. You’re executing little bunnies and tying them up with bows for nothing.”

She looked away from him now, jaw clenched tight. Sniffled from the cold. Guilt chewed through his stomach like teeth.

“Kid, I’m sorry,” he stepped closer, voice softer. She stared up at him again, her body still sideways from his. The wounded shimmer in her eyes left him gutted. “I could’ve phrased that better. I know it gets to you.”

As if it were instinct, Jack gently held her jaw to tip her head up, stroking his thumb against her chin. He could’ve kissed her like this.

She would’ve let him, and she was expecting it. Saw the way he struggled to keep his gaze off her lips (and this was not a rare occurrence). Felt his thumb just barely brush underneath. If she tucked in her chin, she could easily take the finger into her mouth. Pull back slowly, make sure he watched close as she traded the thumb for his middle and index. She could make her spit glisten all over his fingers in the glow of the flashlight between them. Right before dropping to her knees—

Jack pulled away before she seized the chance to suck on his thumb, or anything else.

“Rendezvous with John Shen,” he inhaled sharply. John was one of the few who preferred to patrol solo – something else against which the council heavily advised. Groups were usually encouraged to check in on each other throughout the night, both through the walkies and physical meetings. Although, these meetings were more often recreational than cautionary.

“I still don’t get why everyone consistently uses his government name.”

“I don’t get why anyone still refers to the government,” Jack retorted beside her as they resumed their trek.

“False sense of normalcy, maybe,” Samira shrugged, turning the torch in her hand.

“Shit is looong gone,” he droned, brow quirked.

“Right, you remember what they were like?” The teasing smile in her question was audible.

“Jesus Christ, kid, you’re bordering on elder abuse.”

“So, you admit it?” She was having too much fun now and Jack couldn’t complain. No longer acidic, it seemed she was in a slightly better mood now.

“Respect your elders,” he jabbed his index into the curve of her hip, earning a yap and shove from her. “I’ve gotta do something about that mouth of yours.”

Samira felt her face burn hot. She swallowed, recomposing herself.

“You’ve been running yours for the past twenty minutes, sir.”

Jack stopped walking, hands held out. “Are you a fuckin’ tease with John Shen?”

“He’s the tease,” she countered, laughing. “Well, speaking of, where is he?”

A beat, and then another. The sound of trampled twigs snapped their heads to the left before a flat, glowing cylinder of white bounced around the ground and off the trees.

“John,” Samira addressed him, nodding her head.

“John Shen, say John Shen,” Jack goaded, and she waved him off.

The man approached them with his flashlight, panting lightly, “I could hear your asses a mile away. Council’s gonna separate the two of you.”

Two limp, bloodied cottontails hung from his belt by their feet. Samira pouted.

“And pair me with you?” Jack perked, tapping John’s nose, “I’d rather feed myself to the hounds.”

“No skin off my back, baby,” John grinned at him. Cheshire cat leer in the torch glow. “Anyway, what the fuck do you guys do out here? Langdon always says you’re fucking like rabbits, and he sounds more convincing every day.”

Samira shot John a soured look, responding a little too fast: “He says what?”

“Maybe don’t mention the rabbits,” said Jack, hands moving up to hold on to the straps of his backpack, “she’s a bit sore right now.”

“I’m standing right here,” Samira looked back and forth between the men before turning on her heel to continue their zone inspections. They watched after her for a moment before slowly following her lead, John making sure to leave enough distance so that Samira was well enough out of earshot.

“Kid, don’t wander too far,” Jack called out to her, his advice falling on deaf ears. Made a note to himself to keep up with her from here.

“I take it Langdon was right, then,” John teased and Jack shook his head. “If not, that’s a shame. For you. She’s grabbing lunch with me tomorrow.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Adonis,” said Jack, half amused and half ticked off.

“What, you claim her or something?”

Jack scoffed before lowering his voice a notch, “Shit, she’s not an auction horse.”

“You still remember auctions? How old are you again?” John pressed, smirking. Jack only responded with a short grunt. “Anyway, pussy is scarce, doc. You know how it is.”

“Oh no, it isn’t, junior,” the older man laughed heartily. “Plenty of women in the collective. Last month’s census can attest to that. You’re just an ass.”

“And you’re not?”

John got him there. “Maybe. But I don’t go around scavenging for pussy.”

“Because you don’t have to do a thing for it,” John elbowed him. “Hell, I bet even Mohan’s dying to give it to you.”

There it was again, the feeling that Jack’s cock was stiffening at the mere mention of her.

Needed to sink himself somewhere deep and warm.

He could still see her frame in the distance, lit up by her torchlight. The fat of her ass filling out those dark cargo pants. He cleared his throat.

“You should return to your sector, John Shen. Council would spank us for too much chatter, right?”

John barked out a laugh, “Not if the freaks hiding out in these woods get to us first.” He clapped Jack on the shoulder, taking his leave and disappearing into the night with his own torch.

Mythologically speaking, Jack always thought they should’ve been referred to as chimeras. But ‘hounds’ seemed to have stuck over the decades. Most of the time, they weren’t even the real problem. The hounds were tangible; killable. If you aimed right and well, you were more or less guaranteed to have saved yourself. It was everything else that you had to look out for.

Warning signs in the disguise of sounds, tricks of the light, strange smells. Beautiful distractions. Whispers of pleasure licking up the side of your neck when not a soul was around you. All the things you could only fight with your mind, with your intuition, not through combat or confrontation. You had to be lucky enough to slip out of its hold untouched.

Ahead of him, Samira halted to hit the torch against her palm as the light flickered, threatening to give out on her. She huffed, exasperated, and Jack caught up with her to take a look at it himself.

“Might die,” she said, watching him frown down at the torch in his hands.

“Well,” he hummed, “it seems to be alright for now. A little flickering won’t hold us back. We’ve got the smaller ones anyway.”

“As if they’ll be enough,” she mumbled. “But I don’t get it, I put new batteries in there.”

“Yeah,” he clicked his tongue, weighing their options. “Our break’s coming up, we can work it out then.”

They continued on, neither of them catching sight of the red square marker tagged on the tree to their left.

If he thought he wasn’t losing it before, he was definitely losing it now.

It was a like a hot bolt of lightning cracked the crown of his skull and shot through his body down to his feet every time Samira’s arm brushed against his, every time their sides knocked from walking so close. Every time he heard a breath pass over her lips.

His tip felt leaky in his pants. Eager; ready. Waiting to tuck itself into a something tight and welcoming. Another minute and he was suddenly reaching for her wrist.

“Shit, wait. I need a second.” He winced like he’d just run a marathon. Samira turned to find him slightly hunched over and trying to catch his breath, hand still clamped around her wrist. He let go when she faced him to hold onto his shoulder.

“What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” She angled his face back up to hers, assessing whatever she could just by the look on it. Then, the flashlight died. Samira cursed under her breath and threw it aside. She was about to reach around to grab her mini torch when Jack choked out a pained moan, stepping back and clumsily kneeling on the ground. He shrugged off his bag as he sat back against a tree, feeling like his heart was going to burst in his throat.

Samira crouched down in front of him and situated herself between his bent, outstretched legs. As soon as she rested her hand on his knee, Jack was fully straining through his pants. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought all the blood in his body rocketed down to his throbbing dick.

“I…fuck, I don’t know what’s happening,” he panted, sucked air through his teeth like he ate a hot pepper. Samira’s hands stroking at his neck and petting his hair didn’t help either. “It’s my junk.”

They both dropped their eyes to his crotch and his hand had a mind of its own. Samira’s stomach constricted when she watched him palm the bulge between them.

“Fuck,” he muttered, couldn’t help himself. Rubbing his erection through his pants seemed to be the only thing alleviating the ache, and she could only stare, mouth parted and salivating.

“Uh,” her throat bobbed. Jack tipped his head back to rest against the tree. Nothing could tear her eyes away from the way he tried to soothe himself. She licked her lips, almost in preparation. “Do you- um, is there anything I can do?”

That wrenched his head back down. What could she do? Concern was written all over her face when she looked up at him again. The furrow weighing down her brows almost made her look…keen. Desperate to do anything she could to help him.

Give him a hand. Give him a mouth—

He started shaking his head furiously, muttering a hurried string of no’s as he struggled to get on his feet. He stood up against the tree while she rose to balance on her knees.

“Try taking it out,” she blurted, blushing at her own words. “Maybe...I can see if something’s wrong.”

He processed the image of her kneeling on the forest floor, her face level with his clothed hard-on. Peering up at him like it was a plea. He swore he could feel her breath just kissing it through his fly. His mouth dried up. Had to flex his hands at his sides to resist the urge to rub her face against his bulge.

Then, very slowly, he nodded. Only once.

Samira held her breath as his quivering hands fumbled over his button before abruptly yanking the zipper down, overzealous for release. He paused momentarily, watching for any possible change in her expression—any splinter of hesitation—but she just stared at his undone fly. Waiting.

So, he tugged his pants down enough to reveal the wet patch of precum soaking through his underwear. Her cunt throbbed something fierce between her legs, slickening fast. Then, eyes pinned to her face, he finally dragged the waistband down and sprung his cock free. When the cold air hit, he didn’t waste any time curling a hand around himself, breathy moans tumbling out of him as he leaned back against the tree. Sighing and grunting.

Samira was rapt. Completely awe-struck by everything in front of her. Coarse hair under his belly, fringing his shaft. The girth of it, so enticing as he gave himself good, slow pumps. All of his breaths came out stuttered.

As if on cue, bright rays of moonlight crept past the cover of the trees and meandered their way down to shine on the both of them. Everything lit up and neither Jack nor Samira questioned the bizarreness of it. If anything, the abnormal light only encouraged them, showing each other the vulgar act between them with white, glowing clarity.

His slit drooled with pre. Glistened over his swollen tip under the beaming moonlight. She could feel saliva gathering on her tongue, pooling around her teeth. Her sex, clenching around the ghost of something that should be there. But it stared her in the face instead, and Jack felt his brain short-circuit when he noticed her stare back.

I’ve gotta do something about that mouth of yours

“Y’know what, could you put your tongue out for me?” His voice was ragged. Worn. Samira didn’t register his question for a moment, but then her jaw lowered a bit. “Just, yeah. Just for a minute, sweetheart.”

Samira obeyed and he could have cum just from the sight of it alone. Her tongue, pink and outstretched, was patiently waiting for him. Promising Jack with release. Ecstasy. He filtered out every rational thought screaming in his head as he cradled her jaw with his free hand and lightly planted his wet tip on the flat of her tongue. She was looking up at him the whole time.

His knees almost buckled. Her soft tongue with her warm breath fanning his length should’ve taken him out like a light in an instant. He still wasn’t sure how he lasted this long.

And she didn’t know how much longer she could wait. Every fibre of her being willed her to welcome him all the way in, let his tip scrape the walls of her throat. Make him get off inside the hollow of her cheeks.

With no objection from Samira, he tried his best to pace himself, slowly rolling his hips forward to feed her a little more. Nothing could’ve prepared him for the way she closed her mouth around the width of him, just halfway up. She didn’t give him any time to adjust before easing his length all the way in.

The slight cut-off in her airway burned deliciously. She moaned around him, eyes watering.

“Fuck,” he gritted, bracing himself against the tree as her voice vibrated around him. All the sense in him, gone. “I didn’t know,” he said with a pant, feeling her drag her mouth off just to suck him back in, “didn’t know you’d ever take me like this. I could only- could only dream.”

The sound of the wet pop of her lips latching off his cock reminded him they were still very much outside and on duty.

“Christ, you like this?” he rasped, stroking her hair back, “Sucking me off in the middle of the woods o-on patrol?” She answered with a whimper as she picked up the pace and it had him leaning further back into the tree as her hands found his thighs. Keeping his weight against the trunk, he bent his knees a little to push his feet out further. Samira, in a way that he could not fathom, managed to maintain her sucks as she shifted right to align her cunt with his boot. He watched her get all the friction she needed just by grinding down on him. “Yeah, oh shit, you like this.”

It was dizzying to witness. On her sore knees, panting and slurping and humping. The mix of her spit and his pre smearing the rim of her mouth. This girl, so much younger than him, dragging her clothed pussy against the thick of his shoe as she bobbed her head up and down his pulsing cock. He angled his knee out a bit to accommodate her grinding.

Jack could imagine the seam of her pants catching nicely on her needy clit as she bucked her hips into his leg. Getting off on getting him off. He couldn’t wait to make it up to her, to push her further than she was pushing him. Almost begged her not to go to lunch with John tomorrow.

She gently pulled off to catch her breath and carefully twisted her hands around him with the residue of her spit, stretching her tongue out again so she could drag his mushroom tip over the flat of it. His hips stuttered in response and it struck heat down to her core. “Samira," he breathed, "the things I’m gonna do to you."

She rode his boot harder as she eased his cock back into her mouth, the hair at his base tickling her nose. Sticky panties pressing into her folds.

“You- mm, you’re doing so good for me,” Jack groaned. “Fuck, I can feel the back of your throat.” He let his hands gather up her hair to keep it from brushing over her face. At this point, he had abandoned restraint and allowed himself to rock into the steady tempo of her sucking. He couldn’t believe it.

On duty, in the darkest hours of the night, under the preternatural glow of the moon, he was leveraging his weight against a tree as he lazily fed his hard cock into the mouth of his junior partner while he guided her head back to him, over and over and over again. Shame curled deep in his gut, though it was subdued by the waves of pleasure she wrung out of him.

As soon as he fell from his high, he planned to switch places with her and divest her of her clothes before hooking a leg over his shoulder to bury his tongue deep in her slick cunt. Instead of his boot, she could grind down on his nose.

His fingers tightened around the bunches of her curls, feeling himself approach the precipice of his release. She didn’t seem to tire or back down, and he worried that she couldn’t tell how close he was.

 “Hey, you don’t have to—” he stammered, trying to keep himself from fucking into her mouth too hard when he saw a tear creep down from the corner of her eye. “If it’s too much, I can pull—”

Samira was going for a home run. She was going to make him finish on her tongue if it was the last thing she did.

She sucked him in like a fucking vacuum before releasing him to use her hands again. As she furiously jerked his cock, her lips closed around his crown and she tongued his tip like she was French-kissing it. He saw stars when he felt her lay soft, teasing licks over his dribbling slit.

The forest groaned around them and it seemed to Jack like everything had come to life. Over her fast, clammy strokes and the suckling of her lips, he could catch a flurry of murmurs circling around the tree behind him. Tickling his ear and then echoing throughout the woodlands. It was like a scorching, wispy summer had swallowed the night. Like the whispers of the trees were coaxing him to cum inside the suction of her warm mouth.

When her jerks slowed into squeezing strokes and her lips puckered out around his head, when she bared down on his boot. When she sighed around him, when her eyes flicked up to meet his—he came.

“Oh- oh, shit.”

His senses were stark now as his orgasm surged through him with ferocity.

The blurred shape of what looked like a woman lurking in the distance. The whispered scream of a hound. The red marker plastered on a fallen log behind Samira.

Oblivious, she welcomed him all over her tongue, relishing the taste of his spend as it sprayed the walls of her mouth. All she could hear were his ragged moans when she swallowed and nursed on his fat, spent tip. Felt herself get impossibly wetter as the load of warm cum continued to spill onto her tongue. She didn’t let a drop go to waste.

With Samira struggling to detach from his sensitive tip, Jack was returning to the surrounding environment under the haze of his release. Nothing about this was normal.

Sure, she probably would’ve jimmied him down her throat back at the collective sooner or later. But he wouldn’t have thought he was dying, or coming close to death, in order for it to happen. No, it had only been fifteen minutes prior where he felt like the entire forest was going to cave in on him if he didn’t lodge his cock inside something wet.

And Samira was so cock-drunk, still on her knees; still humping his boot. Still licking him up and down like she was hoping to draw another glob of cum into her mouth. As much as he loved it, there was something very seriously off.

The red marker came back to him, then. Policy and protocol. The symptoms.

Both of them were exorbitantly high on raw lust. Blinded by their urges, deafened by their moans. He didn’t know why it had taken him so long to realise they had wandered into a red zone, but he was undoubtedly sure of it now.

Before he could say anything to Samira, the grating scream of a dying man tore through the silence of the woods. Jack’s flaccid cock fell from Samira’s mouth as they both spun their heads in its direction. A few miles west. It could only belong to John Shen.

[andorerso]

first lines meme

tagged by @woahpip and @fulcrumstardust 💜

Rules: Share the first lines of ten of your most recent fics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

they're all rebelcaptain so I'll specify the AU instead <3

tree roots (post-war family fic): In a tiny house they call their own, five years after the war ended, Jyn asks him a question.

Owl Hoot Trail (Old West exes to lovers AU): The moon hung high in the sky, painting the forest a beautiful, silvery shade of blue, by the time Cassian arrived back at the camp.

Amas Veritas (witch Jyn AU): For as long as anyone could remember, the Rallik witches had always been blamed for everything that had ever gone wrong in Jedha.

The Dildo Dilemma (modern au PWP): Jyn really likes her new boyfriend. It’s somewhat of a novelty.

i want you so much (but i hate your guts) (Imperial Jyn & bodyguard Cassian hate-sex): Jyn may be acting out.

Siren's Song (sex pollen au): All he could think about was getting off.

objection, your honor (divorce lawyers au): Her client is late.

and pray for the thunder (post-mission argument): The underground bunker is a shelter, Jyn reminds herself — not a prison.

be my once in a lifetime (fluffy modern au ficlet): “There you are.”

so much for stardust (Imperial Jyn & undercover Cassian AU): Level 2685 of Coruscant was painted in red and purple flashing lights making Jyn’s eyes bleed from the assault of colors.

no pressure tagging: @jynstandor @frostbitepandaaaaa @quarantineddreamer @flythesail @luciechat

[eri-pl]

Another ficlet. Finrod, Feanor, a natural history lesson in the Halls of Mandos. Not a part of the calendar, this ficlet just happened.

Warnings: nature-documentary-levels of violence (insects dying in awful ways, it may be triggering), discussion of animal reproduction, discussion of death and suffering. Not graphical, but still evocative. And idk how to phrase it, but: don't read if you have triggers around pregnancy. Seriously.

Also, fig trees are weird. Like, really weird. They are irl. If the idea of a cool, metaphorical tree from the Bible (or: a cool tree with fruit that you do eat) being somewhat eldritch triggers you, don't read (and don't google the detailed biology of anything form the genus Ficus)

“And you're showing me all this, because…?”

Finrod saw himself in Feanor's old studio, the host impatiently paced back and forth as he used to. The image was much more detailed than his own memories: the smell of wax and ink, the rustling of papers moved by the warm wind that entered through the window, even the slight aftertaste of coffee.

He missed being alive, more than ever. And yet…

“Lord Námo said it may be helpful,” he replied.

“Helpful for them, to convince me to forfeit my heart, which I don't even have anymore?” Feanor scoffed at him, and a wave of bitterness washed over Finrod. “Or helpful to you, to have someone congratulate you for all your dubious philosophical speculations? Or maybe for helping a Man steal what is not his?”

“This he did not say, but I came to you, uncle—”

“Half-uncle.”

It did not matter much and Finrod didn't hide this feeling. “—to help you lessen your pain, even if only by a little.”

“How graceful. Truely, a son of Arafinwë. Speaking of which, why didn't you crawl back to the Valar with him?” Even in a dream of the dead, Feanor's voice was full of melody and emotion. How was his memory and imagination so detailed?

“I'm not sure. I thought that I could change something, that I could — and have to — protect my father's people. And I was curious about Middle Earth. This too.”

“I see that you have grown up somewhat. Good. So, tell me, Findaráto, has your curiosity been satisfied?”

“Partially. Mostly— no, not mostly. But as much as it could be, I suppose.”

There was a long silence, broken only by the rustling of the leaves outside, and an occasional bird call. Feanor was shielded, almost unpresent, hiding behind the image. He didn't even bother to make the vision of him breathe.

Eventually, he returned and gestured at the alabaster vase, filled with fig branches, which hadn't been there before. “Tell me, do you know how those bear fruit?”

What did it have to do with anything? But Finrod knew better than to argue with his uncle.

“Half-uncle. And no: I don't care that you did not show me yourself saying this. As long as you keep it open, I consider it said. But back to my question.”

Just like Lord Námo, but quicker to get upset. Of course, from his uncle— half-uncle — Finrod could close part of his thoughts. But there had been enough distance between them already, and that would only increase it.

How did fig trees bear fruit? They grew hidden flowers, enclosed in growths that looked like smaller figs and matured into them. The Men believed that those plants, unlike all others, didn't produce flowers or need pollination, but this was of course false.

“And what does pollinate them?” Feanor spoke like a teacher, and Finrod realized that in the vision they shared he was now a child. Should he try to contest it? But he had come to his half-uncle to console him, not to argue. If Feanor would have him as a child, so be it.

He came closer to the branches. Some of them had mature fruit, some young, and some had the small figs that goats ate. “I don't know, I have never thought of that before. I suppose they pollinate themselves— but no, it would make no sense if they had no other tree to mate with. And they do need those small figs nearby… So I would assume those are sources of the pollen and some kind of small creature — an insect or arachnid — pollinates them.”

Feanor nodded and poked one of the maturing small figs with his finger. A group of tiny flies emerged from it — no, not flies, their bodies were built like very small wasps. Some had wings, some crawled on their bellies — and those were dying.

“Look at the females closely,” said Feanor, pulling Finrod’s attention to the winged wasps. Each of them had tiny specks of pollen on her body. They took flight, and landed on the immature figs — some on the small ones, and one on the big that looked like it could mature into an edible fruit.

“They will each crawl inside an enclosed flower — more like a garden actually. Inside each of those goat figs there are many flowers, now the male ones aren't mature yet, but the female ones will be pollinated by what the wasps brought. And in some of them the insect will lay her eggs, preventing growth of the fruit — the tiny actual fruit, not what the ignorants call a fruit — the others shall grow. And when the eggs mature, the new wasps will emerge into the inside of the fig, and mate, and take the pollen from the now-ready male flowers. Then the male wasps will dig a tunnel out and die. And the females will fly out, and enter more unripe figs, tearing off their antennae and wings in the agonizing process, pollinate, lay eggs and die soon after.”

Finrod looked up at his half-uncle's face. “And what do they do here, in Aman? I suppose—”

Feanor smiled and his eyes glistened with fire, but there was no mirth in it. “Where do you think I studied them?”

They stood in silence and pain. No death in the Undying Lands, except when there is. But for the Fruit-Giver the trees had always been more important than things that moved, weren't they?

Finrod shook it off — those weren't his thoughts — but didn't close himself out. He looked at the dying insects and at Feanor. “Once, I would try to comfort you by saying that the figs are beautiful, or that the new wasps are born and fly… But it hurts. Dying. It hurts so much. I'm sorry.”

“You have grown somewhat, indeed. Yes, the new wasps grow… but it's not even the whole of it. We haven't talked about the sweet figs yet.”

Finrod listened.

Feanor poked the ripe sweet fig, but no insect came out. “When a wasp enters the sweet fig,” he said slowly, “she has no place to lay her eggs. The flowers are shaped differently. She pollinates them, and dies — broken, useless, discarded — and the plant digests her until there's nothing left. Just the sweet fruit, for the joy of the Eldar and more glory of the Valar. Tell me, my little philosopher, what do you think: do figs pity wasps? Do they even think about them?”

Finrod forced himself to stay open despite the pain and anger pouring onto him. “They don't know the pain of death, so how could they pity it?”

“Yet, how could they not? How can they expect— and not even care —” Feanor's voice shook, the wasps quivered in agony, the room trembled. Words and feelings roared around like a storm. Slowly, it calmed down and Feanor resumed: “And yet, they do expect. They gave nothing to me, and yet I'm supposed to give everything, and why? Because only I can do that? Because I'm the biggest wasp that they have in their cage? Nobody else is asked for something like this.

“I'm supposed to tear out my heart, and get nothing out of it, and everyone else shall be happy, and I shall be — gone, not even a trace left, digested into the sweetness of a fig. Yes, I know this would be noble of me. I do not care. I do not want to be noble, I've tried being noble already and it didn't work. I want, for a change, to be happy. And I won't take anything less than that.”

The vision blurred, they were in the room, and they were the wasps crawling into a fig, and they were dead bodies lying under the brilliant light that they had helped recover… Finrod took control, dreaming then into his studio, back in Nargothrond. The figs were still there, but now in a simpler, Man-made vase.

“What's this?” Feanor pointed to an empty, unimagined place where a door should be.

Oh. This. Finrod would rather not delve into the whole Celegorm and Curufin situation. “Not very relevant. Two of your sons learned that I was planning to help Beren and, well, we had a disagreement. They took control of the city for some time, but we did not fight. Just argued.”

“What else would you expect them to do?” Feanor stood behind Finrod’s desk in his regal robes, hands behind back, scanning the studio. It was a messy room, compared to his.

“What else would you expect me to do?”

“Not— Oh, I see. You could have mentioned more clearly that you have also been bound by an oath. At least now you understand.” It should have been a question, but wasn't.

“I didn't kill anyone for it.”

“Not with your own hands, no. I appreciate you not murdering my sons for protecting our property. It was more than I would expect with your Telerin heritage.”

Finrod looked him in the eye — now as they were in his imagination, he wasn't a child anymore. “Why are you trying to provoke me? What is this really about? Do you want me to say that we shouldn't have the Trees back if the cost is so high? That we shouldn't have figs or happiness or whatever the metaphor is— I don't know! I trust in the Valar knowing what they're doing, even if they cannot understand how much it takes, but that's just it: trust. And I cannot understand it fully either. Even now. Nobody can, because we aren't you! What do you expect me to say?”

Feanor shrugged lightly. “Honestly? I expected you to say something sanctimonious, a multitude of pretty words about the greater good, sacrifice, and how the wasp dies happy and cheerful, because she knows that it will give joy to everyone else.”

Had Finrod really been like this? Simplistic, blunt, and certain about the things he had no experience with? Maybe. Probably.

“Definitely,” said Feanor, surprised. “You didn't know. How ironic.”

“I apologize. I— I don't think anyone has the right to expect from others something he had not gone through himself. And even now…” The shadows deepened around them, and the air smelled of wolves. Not too much, not out of control anymore, but it was noticeable. “I do not know how I managed to. I'm not who I had thought myself to be; I was terrified, and weak, and lost, and yet… it was enough, somehow. Just enough to do what I had to do. Not to tell anyone else what he should do. To know, yes. But not to claim any authority. Not to try to push you… I'm not making much sense, am I?”

Feanor stepped closer to him, emanating warmth, and the shadows moved back from the light of the fire that was his spirit. The vision was now equally imagined by both of them: a shadowed room blending various memories, unripe figs on the table blazing with light. Pieces of broken marble. Tapestries on the walls. Noticeable lack of blood on the floor. Smell of the sea, or maybe of tears.

“You are both the wasp and the fruit,” Finrod said warmly, looking at the gobelins. They were beautiful.

“I never asked to be a fig! I never—.”

“I know. Nobody asks for it, I suppose. I'm certain Beren didn't either. And yet, if I were to make that choice again, I'd make it all the same.”

Feanor traced the pattern of the tapestry with his finger. “You had a choice.”

“That is true. But does it change much?”

“I don't know.” He started to fade, and with him the tapestry and parts of the room.

“Wait.”

Feanor's presence returned. “There's nothing more to say. You can't convince me—”

“I don't intend to.” Finrod smiled. “Nor do I have anything wise to say to you. But we can simply be here. I miss you.”

“Soon you will go, I can feel life calling to you, your mind longing for its senses. As does mine. The only difference is that you are free to follow. But if you want to dream with me for a while more, I won't forbid you.”

“Thank you, uncle.”

Feanor didn't reply and they sat together, the wasps buzzing around them— or maybe they were moths? Something winged and surprisingly fragile, of that Finrod was certain.

[koji-haru]

Swap AU Part: 19

Lilith’s silence echoed loudly within Adam’s mind as he made his way back to the cave he shared with Eve, carrying along with him a basket of fruits to share for when the second woman finally woke up. The sun had risen much higher up in the sky by the time he was close to the cave, its light a little more bright and intense than it was when he finally parted ways with the first woman. Though really, it was more like Adam had decided to pull himself away from the difficult atmosphere he had created by asking Lilith about her reasons for her betrayal of him. When she kept her gaze ahead towards the shining horizon, unwilling to respond anymore to his words, Adam knew then that the conversation was over. She explained her reasons, and he received the answer he had been looking for. Was he hoping for a different answer? Perhaps. Maybe something a little less stinging. But Lilith answered him honestly as he had wanted, and that was something he could accept. 

As he walked along the grass, gradually and slowly thinned out into a dirt path, more animals began to awake from their slumber. Birds began to fly and hop along the branches of trees, carrying seeds to feed their wailing young, a fawn stumbling behind its mother, a family of bears enjoying the cool waters of the river. And accompanying this harmony amongst the animals were lush green flora that happily provided for the animals, whether it be as food, shelter or entertainment. Every flower presented themselves with stunning colours full of pollen for the bees, leafy greens always abundant for the others to munch on, the trees always providing a cover from the sun for those who might need it. Everything, absolutely everything in the garden had a role to fulfil. All pieces of a bigger picture that simply fit together. And this idyllic picture that it painted everyday was paradise - a world of perfection. 

Looking down at the woven basket that Adam was carrying, he noticed that even the fruits, of which he picked everyday, were always in such perfect condition - fresh, ripe and juicy. Never unripe, never rotten, but always exactly what he preferred them to be. Everywhere he looked, everywhere he went, there was perfection. And yet, what Lilith said before rang in his mind as he walked through the perfect paradise.

“I guess we’re still ‘perfect enough’ in their eyes to keep”

Yes, Adam understood that the question he had asked implied their own imperfections, but he hadn’t really thought about it. It was hypothetical, a contradiction to what he felt like what Heaven’s seeming perception of them was. Because clearly, when they first took their breath, the first two humans were described, no, announced as perfect, as God’s greatest creation. But now…

Without even realising it, Adam’s legs had carried him back to the cave whilst his thoughts wandered astray. On the left of the cavern, opposite Adam’s, was Eve’s leafy bed with the second woman still peacefully asleep on it. With light, careful steps, Adam made his way to Eve’s side of the room, dropping the basket of fruits by her bedside. In front of him, the second woman was sound asleep, her bright red hair messily spread about like a wild flaming halo around her head. Her skin was as soft as both Lilith’s and Adam’s, unblemished and beautiful under every light. Her voice was just as melodic as the other two, and she spoke just as well as they did. Everything the first two humans could do, she also was capable of. Everything but seeing choice.

Both Adam and Lilith during their talk this morning agreed that was something that should not be, an erasure of something to be desired, a flaw. Then…was Eve imperfect? Lilith might readily say yes, but Adam wasn’t sure. Because it seemed that it was both him and Lilith that Heaven was dissatisfied with. And that was when Lilith’s words echoed once more in his mind. 

“I guess we’re still ‘perfect enough’ in their eyes to keep”

Were there levels of perfection? An acceptable amount of ‘error’ to be had before they’re no longer considered perfect? It both did and didn’t make sense in Adam’s head, but it seemed that it all depended on how Heaven saw them. A smidge of an idea formed in his head, one that he wasn’t sure he was supposed to entertain. 

And he knew he wasn’t supposed to entertain the idea. He knew that for a fact. Both he and Lilith, and he assumed Eve too, were told to never even think about it, to stay away from it not only physically, but also in mind. But as Adam went about his day – from spending the early parts of the day having breakfast with Eve, to playing around with the animals at noon, and now carving wood into little animal figures – the more the idea grew and festered in his mind. Everything everywhere he looked, from the highest of the skies to deepest of the seas, everything was stagnant in perfection. Everything fit perfectly in the spaces carved for them with no space allowed for them to slip through.

Looking down at the small line of figures both he and Eve carved – a snake, a horse and a bird – Adam thought that even they looked as if they were meant to be made like that, a little rough around the edges with some parts seeming uneven. Then, he glanced back down. On his left hand was a carving of a sheep, its wool round and fluffy, and on his other hand was a sharp stone that he had been using to slice pieces of the wood off. He brought the small stone closer to sheep carving, its sharp edge barely touching the neck. His eyes focused on the wool around its neck, all he needed was a few more swift cuts to thin it out a little and then he would be done with this piece. And so, with carefully controlled hands and eyes trained on that one spot, Adam pushed the stone against the wood.

Something light and round rolled down his arm and leg and fell with a light thud onto the grass. Staring back at Adam was the wooden sheep’s dull eyes, and in his hand was a ruined piece.

“Adam?” asked Eve when she noticed that the man seemed to have frozen on the spot, golden eyes impassive as it trained itself towards something on the ground. When she received no response, Eve gently placed her own wooden carving and sharpened stone to the side as she leaned to the side and waved a hand in front of Adam’s face. After a couple of swings, the first man’s eyes seemed to finally follow the motions of her hands and then eventually focused on her. “Are you okay?”

“I ruined the sheep,” Adam said, his voice low and quiet unlike anything Eve had ever heard from him before. And yet, the golds of his eyes appeared to shine with both acceptance and relief, like a sort of happy revelation. He picked up the wooden head off the ground, rolling it idly between his fingertips before fitting it back to its body. And sure enough, once he let go of its head, it tumbled back down onto the grass. “I guess I’ll have to throw this one away.”

—-

The winds were rolling gently over the tall grass, sending rhythmic waves throughout the entire field of yellows and greens. The day was once more reaching its end as the sun began its golden descent towards the horizon. It was within these precious few hours that Adam would be able to reconnect with his beloved in secret.

The horses were once more gathered around him in large crowds, though all of them simply remained standing as they either chewed on the grass or kept their eyes on the horizon. In a way, it was as if the horses were forming a barrier, a cover of some sort for the two lovers who were sitting under the yellow leaves of a lone tree. The whistling of the fast breeze, the rustling dance of the tall grass, along with the busy neighs and nickers amongst the wild horses drowned out the words and whispers exchanged between the first man and his angel.

“But it does make sense, does it not?” asked Adam as he looked at Michael with earnest eyes, his lips pulled slightly down. 

Michael, as usual, had his head resting upon the first man’s lap, though his eyes were purposely averting away from Adam, afraid to look at the expression he was causing on the human’s face. Almost everyday, a certain topic would always rise within their conversations. And as more time passed, Adam’s conviction only grew stronger, his stubbornness increasing in intensity as he asked more and more questions and suggested even more ‘solutions’ to them. Even more concerning for Michael was that each solution suggested only became increasingly dangerous and forbidden as he countered each one with reasons of his own. But no matter what he said, no matter how carefully he explained the possible consequences would be, Adam refused to let up. 

With a resigned sigh, Michael finally took a glance back at the human, and even though the way those golden eyes shone with an earnest plea for understanding tugged at his heart, his own principles remained steadfast. “I told you that they will simply remake you then. They can easily do it Adam, they’ve discussed it before. And then…I’d lose you forever. Please, let’s just move on from this.”

The falling of Michael’s gaze towards the ground, the way his eyes trembled with fear at the mere idea of forever losing Adam, the heaviness of the air that surrounded them. These would normally be enough cause for the first man to yield and drop the topic as he always had done before, the weight of causing such despondency towards Michael far too heavy for both his heart and conscience to carry. And today too, it felt uncomfortably heavy on his being, but this time, he felt like he could endure it for the alternative was something he could no longer bear. The longer he stayed in the garden, the more he felt as if he didn’t belong, as if he were left lost and wandering, and even worse, he felt that something was enclosing in on him, its slow approach barely perceivable but absolute.

Adam took a deep breath, steeling his nerves, for he knew what he was about to say next would most especially be not welcomed by his staunch angel. “Then what about the fruit of knowledge of good and evil?”

“What?” Michael instantly raised his head and turned towards Adam, eyes wide with shocked blues. And even in his current form as a horse, the disbelief still remained evident in his frozen features as his thoughts suddenly went stark white and blank.

“The fruit of knowledge…if I ate it, would they still be willing to keep me then?” Adam asked once more, a certain kind of resolution hardening in his eyes. “There must be a reason they’re particularly uncompromising about it.”

If Michael had his hands instead of hooves, he would’ve grabbed the first man’s shoulders and shook him until such nonsense left his mind. But instead, he remained frozen from where he laid with his head turned to the side. The repeat and clarification of Adam’s question did nothing to ease incredulity of their current conversation. Then suddenly, the white blankness within his mind became flooded with panic and dread as the human’s words truly sank and seeped into his system.

“Adam, they wouldn’t keep you then because they couldn’t. Eating the fruit will kill you!” Michael’s voice trembled with worried frustration, he couldn’t believe Adam would think of such a thing, let alone even suggest it to him. “They’ve warned you about this since the very beginning!”

“But why will knowledge kill me?” challenged Adam, his gaze remaining resolute and unyielding. It made no sense to him, how could something like the gaining of knowledge kill him? “Am I not learning everyday? What’s the difference then?”

Adam’s continuous questioning put a brief pause to Michael’s rushing panic as he himself didn’t know the answers to those questions. He was never truly meant to be so involved with humanity and the garden. His only connection to the whole project was to keep it safe from possible outside dangers. It was angels’ such as Sera who were tasked to monitor and care for the garden and its inhabitants, and as such they knew more of the entire thing. And if they had claimed that the fruit of knowledge was deadly, then Michael had absolutely no reason to believe them otherwise. 

“I– I don’t know,” admitted Michael. “But the others, they helped our Father with the creation of this garden. They know everything about the garden. Why would you doubt them now?”

“Why wouldn’t YOU doubt them?” Adam argued back, a heated flame in his voice as he glared at Michael. The sharpness of his eyes sent a piercing pain through the angel’s body. They’ve had some disagreements before, especially more in the last few days, but the first man had never once looked at Michael that way before, with such a sharp glare that pierced and twisted at his insides as it pushed itself further in, unyielding in its assault. “Despite everything that has happened, how they’ve been treating you, you choose to place your trust in them?”

Suddenly the fire in Adam’s eyes dampened, his gaze falling to the ground as he turned away from the angel. A bitter sadness clouded his eyes reflecting the condition of his heavy heart – torn and exhausted. Why couldn’t Michael just see what he saw? Why was he so unwilling to fight for them? Tears from his clenched heart pricked his eyes, the frustration and sadness threatening to spill down. With a trembling voice, he continued, “So do you think they’re justified in separating us then?”

“No! That’s not what I meant!”

“So why do you keep defending them? Whenever I ask to be taken away from here, you keep on refusing, telling me how Heaven wouldn’t approve of this, Heaven would know of that!” shouted Adam as he pushed Michael away from him before scrambling onto his feet. With clenched hands, he stood before the angel, his tearful glare gleaming with the disappointment and sorrow he felt spilling out of his heart. “I’m sick of this! I’m sick of the garden! And I’m sick of you!”

Without waiting for Michael’s response, Adam turned around and ran as far away as he could, the sun sinking behind him. 

Part 18

Part 20

[meteorologistaustenlonek]

WDEFWeather #News12Weather - Local #airquality information courtesy of Chattanooga Allergy Clinic

[mariacallous]

This story originally appeared on Vox and is part of the Climate Desk collaboration.

The warming spring air is a welcome relief from the bitterly cold winter across much of the US, but millions of seasonal allergy sufferers are getting buried under a pollen tsunami, with sneezing, headaches, watery eyes, and stuffed sinuses sending them right back indoors.

Already, Atlanta has broken its pollen count record, with 14,801 grains per cubic meter spewing from pine, oak, and birch trees. Houston also reported its highest pollen counts since 2013, when records began.

The Asthma and Allergy Foundation of America (AAFA) projects that 2025 will be yet another brutal year for seasonal allergies across the country, with the worst-afflicted cities in the southern US. Your red eyes and runny noses don’t deceive you—seasonal allergies are getting worse, a miserable reality for nearly one in three US adults and one in four children.

Why? Sneezing and sniffles are some of the sirens of climate change. In fact, because of warming, pollen is now a nearly year-round menace in some parts of the US. Pollen, the main seasonal allergy trigger, is emerging earlier in the year, in higher concentrations, and lasting longer year after year. “In the springtime, the first pollen allergens are from trees, and that is starting 20 days earlier than it did 30 years ago,” said Kenneth Mendez, CEO of AAFA. Rising concentrations of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere are directly inducing plants to produce more pollen while extending the temperature conditions that trigger pollen production in plants.

“We hear all the time, ‘I’ve never had allergies before, and now I suddenly feel like I have allergies,’ or ‘I feel like my allergies are getting a lot worse,’ and that’s because the allergic load is that much higher because of climate change,” Mendez said.

For most people, seasonal allergies are an unpleasant nuisance. But with millions feeling blergh at the same time, it adds up to a huge economic burden in lost productivity. Asthma, allergic rhinitis—the condition you probably know of as hay fever—and related allergy conditions cost the economy billions of dollars each year in lost work days, medications, and doctor’s visits.

There are also people for whom pollen is a more serious problem and can lead to dangerous complications or exacerbate other health issues. One study found that tree pollen allergies lead to 25,000 to 50,000 emergency room visits per year, two-thirds from people under the age of 18.

Over time, as pollen counts increase, more people with a higher sensitivity threshold are finding out the hard way that these tiny grains are a hazard. Other people are also finding out that doors and windows can’t protect them, as some of the tiniest pollen grains seep in.

“If the trend lines continue, I think more people are going to feel miserable from allergies,” Mendez said.

How We Keep Making Allergies Worse for Ourselves

The problem for allergy sufferers is that their body’s defense mechanisms sometimes overreact to something benign. Usually, it leads to mild, easily treatable symptoms. But allergens can also trigger more serious complications like asthma attacks, causing wheezing, chest tightness, and shortness of breath. In rare cases, they can lead to anaphylaxis, a whole-body reaction where the airways can swell shut and blood pressure drops to dangerously low levels.

The vast majority of pollen allergies are more annoying than dangerous, but seasonal pollen is so ubiquitous that it’s almost impossible to avoid, sneaking indoors through vents, window seals, on clothing, and in pet fur.

Some people are more sensitive than others, but the relentless, growing exposure can add up to misery even for those with mild allergies. Pollen grains range in size from 100 down to less than 10 microns, allowing them to penetrate deep into the lungs and irritate airways. Many types of plants release pollen as part of their reproductive cycle. Generally, trees spread pollen in the spring, grasses over the summer, and ragweed in the autumn.

However, the historical pollen timing patterns have already shifted.

Tree pollen is wafting off branches earlier in the season almost every year. Some grass species have seen their pollen release days delayed by almost a month while their overall season has grown longer. As a result, grass pollen increasingly overlaps with the ragweed pollen season, which itself has been extended by more than three weeks in some parts of the country since 1995.

There are two key mechanisms driving this trend, both induced by humanity’s appetite for fossil fuels. Increasing concentrations of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere from burning coal, oil, and natural gas directly induce many plant species to produce more pollen. Carbon dioxide can make plants grow bigger and faster, and produce more flowers, which leads to more pollen. More pollen leads to more seeds, which means even more plants spraying pollen the next season.

Higher levels of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere are also warming the planet and changing the climate. In general, that means warmer, shorter winters and earlier springs, which leads to longer growing seasons for plants. These trends will continue as global average temperatures go up, making allergies a significant public health burden.

Some parts of the country, such as Texas, are on track to see pollen counts almost double by 2050 compared to 2000.

It’s Not Just Pollen You Have to Worry About

For many people, allergies are an added complication on top of other health and environmental conditions. Air pollution from ozone, particulates, sulfur, and nitrogen compounds can cause their own breathing problems, but when they intersect with allergies, they can make symptoms even worse. Pollution from roads can make pollen from nearby plants more potent at triggering allergic reactions. Smoke from wildfires can also exacerbate allergies.

Cities may not offer much refuge. Changes to the landscape like urbanization can create a more favorable habitat for plants like ragweed. City centers also tend to warm up faster than their rural surroundings and experience higher concentrations of air pollutants, compounding the effects of allergies. These factors are especially potent in low-income and underserved communities.

Pollen isn’t the only allergen changing with the climate either. Rising temperatures and precipitation in some areas are increasing the number and duration of allergenic mold spores. Extreme weather further worsens the problem, as the damage and destruction create conditions for more mold. That was evident in New Orleans last year as storms like Hurricane Francine soaked the city.

“When these storms come through, they create so much damage over the landscape of the state,” John Carlson, who leads the high-risk allergy division at the Ochsner health system in New Orleans, said. “Some communities have resources to immediately move in and repair roofs and patch windows, and then we have a lot of folks that simply don’t have those resources. With leaking roofs, you have mold growth indoors. Because it’s so warm here, we can grow mold year round as long as there’s moisture.”

High winds from storms can also whip up dust, which can then trigger asthma. Additionally, there’s a phenomenon called thunderstorm asthma, where the weather conditions can rupture pollen grains into smaller, more allergenic fragments, triggering asthma attacks.

It’s not clear whether the overall number of people with seasonal allergies is increasing. The US may be approaching a plateau in the number of people who are susceptible to pollen, Carlson said. At the same time, there are other conditions that can present with allergy-like symptoms, and at high enough concentrations, even people without allergies will wheeze.

“In New Orleans, we have a ton of oak pollen—I mean, just so much oak pollen in the air—and you commonly have a lot of people who don’t have oak pollen allergy nevertheless with itchy eyes and the sneezing from just the irritant effect of the particles,” Carlson said.

The good news is that there are ways to contain the worst effects of seasonal allergies. For people with a history of bothersome seasonal allergies, seeing an allergist and finding out what their specific triggers are and what medicines work is key. It may make sense to start taking medications like nose sprays or over-the-counter allergy drugs before pollen ramps up.

“We generally say to have your medications in your system close to two weeks ahead of time because it takes some time to build up,” Mendez said. For people who don’t know if they have allergies but are concerned about the threat, pay attention to your symptoms and see an allergist if you do start to experience irritated eyes and airways. There are also more aggressive interventions for people with severe allergies who don’t respond to other medicines like desensitization therapy, also known as allergy shots.

Some of the same measures for avoiding air pollution also work for pollen. Pay attention to pollen forecasts in your local area. Avoid being outside and close doors and windows during high pollen release times, particularly in the morning. Leave your coat and shoes outside or locked away before you settle down at home. Wipe down your dog after a walk. Use a HEPA air filter in your living spaces.

Over the long term, it’s prudent to curb emissions of heat-trapping gases that worsen climate change and allergies. For now, keep the tissues close.

[mirai-e-jump]

ViVi Magazine, June 2024 Issue ft. Murakami Erica, Watanabe Aoto & Ikeda Masashi (translations below)

Publication: 4/23/2024

The King-Ohger co stars are a friendly trio Murakami Erica x Watanabe Aoto x Ikeda Masashi

Enjoying genderless "share t-shirts"

If you incorporate a unisex t-shirt into your outfit, you can achieve an easy, high end fashionable look 💛. It's also nice to share and enjoy them together with your boyfriend or friends.

Q: Tell us about a recent TMI (too much info)

Ikeda: For me, my chapstick always ends up somewhere before it's used up. Where does it always go?!

Erica: I've been busy moving across the country due to my family's relocation! I decluttered more than 10 bags during the cleanup. I think luck is coming my way 💛

Watanabe: TMI……you mean like blood sugar level?! Ah, that's not it either (laughs). My allergies act up during the first week of pollen season, but after that I'm fine. There are other people like that, right?

Q: What do you want to do this Spring?

Erica: I want to relax in the shade of a tree when it becomes warmer. I want to buy some dangos and donuts and spend my time watching movies and dramas.

Watanabe: Cherry blossom viewing. It's so fleeting when the cherry blossoms fall……(he gently holds Ikeda's hand). I'd like to eat a handmade bento while taking in the scent of Spring…(he gazes at Ikeda).

Ikeda: I'd like to challenge myself to go camping. Things like outdoor BBQ's are just the best, aren't they? At night, with Aoto beside me, we'd talk while looking at the stars……

Watanabe: In the tent, Masashi and I would be curled up in the same blanket. It gets cold at night, so…..

Erica: Alright, that's enough of that!! (laughs). _

"Introduce each other to the ViVi readers!"

Ikeda: Erieri's (Erica) face is really too small! Her skull's a champion. She's the big sister among the King-Ohger members.

Watanabe: Yeah. She's an airhead, but very caring!

Erica: Eh~ Thank you 💛. Aoto feels like the kind older brother, while Masashi is the second oldest who says too much.

Watanabe: Masashi is by far the whitest! He's like a reflector, illuminating everywhere he goes (laughs).

"What do you think of today's t-shirts?"

Erica: I like the loose fit. The shoulders are dyed unevenly, giving it a cute vintage look! I think you can wear it with denim for a masculine look, or match it with a miniskirt!

Ikeda: My "remake t-shirt" has a zipper and alternate designs that give off the feeling of an incomplete main character. This is cute on its own, but the jacket wrapped around the waist gives it a more feminine look.

Watanabe: Heart motifs worn by men are pretty rare, right? Depending on your hair style, you can wear it as cool or cute!

"If you exchanged t-shirts, how would you wear them?"

Erica: If I were to wear Aoto's heart t-shirt, I'd wear it with a mini skirt, lace socks, and mary janes for a "naughty girly" look!

Ikeda: If I were to wear Erieri's t-shirt, I'd make use of colors and patterns to create a one tone look!

Watanabe: Then, I'll wear Masashi's remake t-shirt with a unique hat and shoes to give it alittle more character. I want to go to a theme park while looking good. _

(Bottom of page)

(Masashi) Pure white prince (Isn't he too fleeting? he's going to disappear). by Aoto

(Erica) Princess Erica, of divine skeletal structure, descends here. by Masashi

(Aoto) Isn't he a genuine model?! I'm now realizing his appeal! by Erica

[ardentrob]

TAROT INSPIRED POKEMON "The Lovers"

Picking up this series again with the intent to finish it. More art/info under the cut! (There's also a Youtube video if you'd prefer to hear me chat about 'em in my dulcet tones ❤)

________________________________________________________ A quick intro to this shindig: This project is about taking tarot cards (specifically the Major Arcana) and interpreting their meanings and symbolism into a Pokemon/Fakemon line. Today's Arcana is The Lovers! Based off of the Pamela Colman Smith art in the RWT, the card seems to play a lot off of Relationships and Duality:

The artwork depicts several examples of """opposites""" at play: Masculine and Feminine (The two humans), Impulsivity and Deliberation (Tree of Life/Tree of Knowledge), Conscious and Subconscious (Humans/Angel; Earth/Heavens) These conflicts, these dual forces, are representative of our own struggles internally and externally: It's not that one side should win or reign over the other, but that Both can and should find Balance; Harmony. Balance your inner conflicts and stand firm on what you Will and Won't tolerate. With that in mind, I decided to take those notes and use the snake present in the scenario as base for the line: While this whole scene is a very apparent reference to the Garden of Eden, I wanted to play a more sympathetic angle for the line since we already have a few more "villainous" serpents in the canon Pokedex.

Panaceasp (Panacea + Asp) JP: Hebii (蛇 (へび; Hebi; Snake) + 医 (い; I; Doctor)

Our first stage takes inspiration from the Rod of Asclepius: The motif of opposing forces works really well when we apply it to Medicine, since "the dose makes the poison", and Grass and Poison often represent Healing and Withering respectively. The intention with this one was to portray a creature out of balance: Its pose is errant and unevenly wound around its mobility aid, with one eye open and the other shut.

For Moveset: This little guy gets a signature move! Painkiller is, for all intents and purposes, a Poison type version of Pollen Puff: Damages opponents, heals allies in a Double battle. Beyond that, Panaceasp mixes strong attacking options with a bunch of useful Status moves, capable of inflicting Confusion, Toxic, and Paralysis while also keeping its own teammates healthy and status free. When traded to another player with High Friendship, Panaceasp evolves into:

Emissymm (Emissary + Symmetry) JP: Shishatai (使者 (ししゃ; Shisha; Envoy/Emissary) + 対 (たい; Tai- from 対称; たいしょう; Symmetry/Second Person)

The final stage of this line takes us from Asclepius to Hermes; from Rod to Caduceus; from Cane to Crook (or crozier!) Unlike the rod of asclepius, the caduceus is used erroneously as a symbol of medicine and healthcare. It is actually more a symbol of negotiation, used to represent commerce and trade more appropriately than medicine. According to Greek myth however, the staff of hermes was said to possess the ability to revive the dead and bring the dying a gentle repose, so it's a tangential fit for the initial medicine theme. More importantly, the caduceus is also a great symbol for balance and harmony; It's even featured on the Two of Cups Minor Arcana, which shares quite a few themes the Lovers as a whole! In this case we're presenting it as a two-headed winged serpent, where it relies on being "fully balanced" to even function properly.

Regarding its Moveset, we expand and replace a couple of its Level-Up options: Upon evolving it loses Shed Tail in exchange for Pain Split, and nabs some tasty new support options like Revival Blessing, Perish Song, and Wide Guard. While you have Leaf Storm + Contrary to take on a more sweeper-type role, there's some fun cheese to be had with the ability otherwise: Skill Swap contrary to a teammate and boost them with Strength Sap (or Feather Dance), run Scale Shot for a Trick Room team, etc. Beyond its moves, Emissymm replaces Shed Skin for Synchronize: Not the best ability trade-off, but since you're immune to Poison/Toxic, being able to threaten the return of a Burn or Paralysis is a decent defensive option to have in your pocket. Its Liquid Ooze ability also becomes a bit of a cheeky joke, as the caduceus is also used to represent the element Mercury, which is quite poisonous to ingest. (This is also why Emissymm gets access to Steel-type coverage à la Flash Cannon!)

Finally, a full-body view of the shiny palettes. Since I took some inspiration from alchemy regarding Emissymm's biology, I thought I could bring it all back around by going with a White/Red colour scheme, in reference to Rebis, or "Dual Matter"; The union of the Red King and White Queen; The ultimate reconciliation of opposing energies. Anyhow! That's it for now. I'm thinking of taking a swing at Strength next, but I suppose we'll see!

[aller-geez]

A Ruff Morning

A short, non-canon 3000 word piece from Coldshare's old prompt that can be found here 🩶

It’s been so long since I’ve posted a fic, I decided to dip my toes back in a little with this short Remi torture 🖤🖤. Includes allergies he doesn’t usually have but I got a little carried away with the idea 😭😂

The morning sun streamed through the dusty cabin windows, golden light catching on the faint trails of floating pollen in the air. Remi leaned heavily against the counter, arms crossed as his head tilted back ever so slightly. His green eyes, dim with the beginnings of what promised to be an absolutely miserable day, blinked rapidly as his breath hitched.

“Hhh… hhh’ihhh…”

No, not again. He clenched his jaw and straightened, his glowing eyes narrowing as he fought against the tickle building deep in his nose. A faint, persistent itch teased the back of his sinuses, growing sharper with every ragged breath.

“Dot today,” he muttered hoarsely, his voice thick with congestion. His black hair fell into his face as he gave a fierce sniff, trying to wrangle the irritation into submission. It was spring, his least favorite season, when every blooming tree and gust of wind turned the world into a personal battleground for his nose.

Remi’s nostrils flared involuntarily, his breath catching again. “Hhh—hhh—!” His broad shoulders tensed, his chest rising as the sneeze prepared to explode out of him. But no. He refused to give in to it.

“Ugh, come on,” he growled, jamming a finger under his nose in a desperate attempt to hold back the inevitable. The pressure helped, at first—a tiny reprieve as the tickle wavered and receded. But then, disaster struck.

A warm, wet sensation spread against his finger, and he froze in horror. His nose, apparently fed up with his defiance, had decided to start running. He could feel the dampness on his finger already, and worse, it only seemed to enhance the ticklish sensation inside his nostrils.

“Fugkigg disgustigg…” he muttered, hastily grabbing a tissue from the box on the counter. He pressed it to his nose and blew forcefully, his ears popping slightly with the effort. For a moment, it felt like progress—his sinuses cleared, and he could finally breathe without obstruction.

But his victory was short-lived.

As he inhaled deeply, savoring the relief, the air around him carried a fresh wave of pollen directly into his newly cleared nasal passages. His nose twitched violently, the tickle roaring back with a vengeance. “Hhh—hhh--HhhHhh! Hahhh…” His breath caught again, but he refused to let the sneeze win.

Remi spun on his heel, his frustration mounting. He couldn’t stay in the kitchen—not with the sunlight streaming through the window and the thick scent of spring in the air. He stalked into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

But as soon as he stepped into the room, his nose twitched again, the itch flaring to unbearable levels. He sniffled sharply, glaring at the room as if it had personally offended him. His glowing green eyes scanned the space, landing on the thin layer of dust coating the nightstand and dresser.

“Seriously?” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Whed’s the last tibe this place was cleaded?”

The answer didn’t matter. All that mattered was that the tickle in his nose, already unbearable, had somehow doubled in intensity. He rubbed at it furiously, trying to dislodge the irritation, but that only made things worse. His fingers grazed the most sensitive part of his nose— his septum, where the itch was strongest.

“Hhh—hhhihhh! Hh…hhh’ihhhh…” His breath hitched uncontrollably, his nostrils flaring wide as the sneeze teased him mercilessly. His face contorted, eyebrows knitting together and lips parting as he hovered on the brink of release. But it wouldn’t come.

“Ughhh!” he growled, stomping out of the room and into the fresh air outside.

Big mistake.

The moment he stepped outside, the world seemed to conspire against him. The trees lining the path were in full bloom, their delicate flowers releasing plumes of pollen with every breeze. The air was thick with it, clinging to his skin and hair. His nose twitched wildly, the tickle now a raging inferno deep in his sinuses.

“Hhh…hhh’iiiHh—!”

He tilted his head back instinctively, his glowing eyes fluttering shut as the sunlight hit his face. The sudden brightness triggered an immediate photic reflex, his breath hitching violently as the sneeze finally surged to the surface.

“Hhh… hhh’EHTSSHH’UE! Hhh’IISHHhhhuh! HI’DTSSHHIEW!”

The sneezes burst out of him in rapid succession, bending him at the waist with their force. His hands flew up to his face, barely catching the mess before another sneeze overtook him.

“HD’IZTSsHHhhh’ih! hiHH'ISCHHH'UE! Hhh’IETSH’UE! H’ihhSHHhhiew!”

By the time the fit ended, Remi was left sniffling miserably, his broad shoulders slumping as he straightened up. His nose, now red and irritated, twitched again, threatening to launch him into yet another sneezing frenzy.

“Why?” he muttered, rubbing at his face with the sleeve of his shirt. “Why mbe?”

He turned back toward the cabin, defeated. But even as he trudged inside, the tickle remained, lurking just beneath the surface, ready to strike again at the slightest provocation.

Inside, Remi slumped onto the couch, grabbing another tissue and blowing his nose again. It brought no relief—if anything, the irritation only deepened, and he felt the maddening itch crawling back into his sinuses. His glowing green eyes narrowed as he glared at the box of tissues.

“Hhh…” His breath hitched again, his nostrils flaring as he tilted his head back. “Hhh’IETSH’UE! Hhh—IISHHhhh! Hhh’ISSHHhiEW!”

The sneezes tore through him with violent force, leaving him gasping for air. He sniffled miserably, grabbing another tissue as he sank further into the couch cushions.

Levi entered the room moments later, his freckled face lighting up with a mix of amusement and concern. “Rough morning?” he asked, holding out a fresh cup of tea.

Remi shot him a look, his voice hoarse as he replied, “You thidk?”

Levi chuckled softly, setting the tea on the table beside him. “Well, maybe next time you’ll let yourself sneeze before it turns into a whole production.”

Remi groaned, burying his face in his hands as the tickle in his nose started to build again. Spring was going to be the death of him.

[stratocumulus-cloud]

TWST X Warrior cats

HeartClan medicine cats ❤️🍃

• Each of the Clans have 3 medicine cats. Along with treating disease, wounds and communicating with Starclan they also keep a close eye on their clan mates blot levels making sure no one overblots.

• Though they mainly have to look after the apprentices since they tend to overdo it a lot.

🌹Crimsonpetal

Strict

Former apprentice: Featherdawn

Mate: A heavily guarded secret but many assume that it was a rouge or a kittypet. Though one things for sure she doesn’t want to ever see him again

Kits: RoseStar

RoseStar is her greatest mistake and pride

Had told him his whole life that if he didn’t follow the warrior code to a T they would be kicked out of the clan

Crimsonpetal was briefly demoted and shunned when it was found out that she was pregnant and had to beg her way back into her position as a medicine cat.

🪶Featherdawn

Belongs to: @snowgirlhd

Former mentor: Crimsonpetal

Apprentice: Batpaw

has anxiety (not Idia lvls), bit of a night owl and has a hard time sleeping, gremlin energy but only with friends, strangers get quite polite but somewhat antisocial responses, has a bit of a temper but not as bad her Leader or Mentor (only shows to cats that she knows won't take it personally)

Facts

Has dust and grass pollen allergy (just sneezing, runny nose and itchy eyes) and seafood allergy

Asked Shockheart(Jade) to cooperate with herb/plant gathering and protection in exchange for helping him with getting mushrooms (No, she will not eat them no matter how much he asks her to for fun, she hates them)

Enjoys Coilheart’s(Floyd's) squeezes as it helps with anxiety and her sore/aching joints so she just lets him

Respect’s Silverstar’s(Azul’s) drive but not the method of it.

Wishes her leader wouldn't shout so much, it hurts her hearing

Tries to tune out her mentors jabs and criticism that isnt about their job, takes it more serious then other things despite being somewhat lethargic from lack of sleep

Pretty fast runner when it comes to short distances but not long ones

Loves to climb trees, the night sky and water

Mini backstory

Born a kittypet but left due to feeling like that life wasn't meant for her so she travelled until Featherdawn found someplace to stay and make something of herself. Drew the short end of the stick when it came to running into aggressive predators on her way ergo all the scars she sports now as well as the basic combat skills she had to learn to survive. One clancat found her bleeding out while on patrol and decided to bring Featherdawn to one of the Med cats to see what could be done. After a long time of healing it was set in stone that she wished to learn to heal and treat cats to pay back the kindness.

🦇 Batpaw

Belongs to: @liviavanrouge

Apprentice

Mentored by Featherdawn

Adventurous troublemaker

Does not get along with Crimsonpetal often snaps at her

Her father and Featherdawn has to pull her out of trouble a lot

Crimsonpetal often butts in during Batpaw’s training claiming that Featherdawn isn’t doing it right.