#You ever feel like you're ten steps behind where you need to be to even get started? That's how I feel. Stuck. In mud.

[prettyblondguys]

Respectfully, platonically, you’re a legit snack. And you’re still a baby! Springs gonna come for you. HARD. so you better have your shorts ready and maybe, like, an airy shirt or two. Some light fabrics. You’re great.

*bites my arm* okay so....not actually legitimately but thanks😔🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺💖💛💖💛💖💛💖💛💖💛💖💛💖💛💖💛💖💛💛💖💛💛💛💛

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Ten - Milo's Hot Momma

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.8K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

It was a relief when Milo climbed back into his mother's lap before they began their descent. She sat in her own seat and allowed Milo to take his place in her lap as Olivia sat opposite them. She was a big girl; she didn't need her daddy.

"The tattoos," Y/N began as she held Milo. "I feel like you've got them to appear all terrifying and intimidating, but you're secretly a loser," she said to Daniel.

"A loser?" He asked, but he was unable to contain his smile.

Y/N laughed, her chest shaking slightly. "Don't worry, Danny. All the best people are."

"Are you a loser?" Daniel couldn't stop himself from asking. When Y/N nodded her head, he decided he didn't mind being a loser.

***

"Keep a hold of my hand, Munchkin," said Y/N as she and Milo entered the paddock.

Milo began skipping as he walked beside his mother. "Do you think we'll get to meet any of the drivers, Momma?" He asked as they walked forward.

Y/N truly didn't know. Daniel had gotten to the circuit much before they had and she had no idea where they were meant to be going. There must be somebody she could ask.

Everybody was far too busy. Every time she approached someone they hurried away, unaware that she and Milo were even there, asking for help.

Finally, she found a man in a navy blue shirt with RED BULL printed on the back of it. Red Bull, that was Daniels old team, she recognised. "Come on, Munchkin," she said and placed Milo on her hip.

She kept a tight hold of him as they walked towards the man with the short blonde hair and blue eyes. "Excuse me," Y/N said before the man had the chance to walk away. The man turned, wearing an ever so kind smile on his face. "Could you help me? We're trying to find the AlphaTauri garage and we're a little lost."

"Of course," the guy said and pointed them in the right direction. He began walking, falling into step beside Y/N as he took her towards where she needed to go. "Are you an AlphaTauri fan?" He asked, noticing the hat on Milo's head.

"I am!" Milo answered and wriggled out of his mother's grip. She put him down and grasped his hand.

Y/N straightened up his hat on his head. "We're friends with Daniel Ricciardo," she answered. "Do you work in Formula One?"

Max couldn't stop himself from laughing at that. "You're not a Formula One fan, are you?" He asked. When she shook her head signalling no, he held out his hand. "I'm Max, I drive for Red Bull," he said.

"Oh!" Y/N suddenly cried. "Your team won last time, didn't you? Congratulations!'

"Thanks," Max said, somewhat bashful. "You said you're friends with Daniel?"

"Our kids are friends from daycare," she answered.

They chatted idly as Max led them to them to the AlphaTauri garage. The conversation was easy, enjoyable, friendly. Milo was happy to talk to Max, tell him everything he had learnt about Formula One so far (most of which Olivia had taught him).

At the AlphaTauri garage, Max left them there. He waved them a goodbye and disappeared, making his way back to the Red Bull garage.

Even though they were now where they were supposed to be, Y/N was lost. "Where do you think we go now, Milo?" She asked, not quite expecting an answer.

But she did get an answer, just not from Milo. "MILO!" Came a loud, familiar voice. Suddenly Olivia was running towards them. She quickly threw her arms around Milo, knocking his hat off in the process.

Her father walked up behind her, greeting Y/N in a much calmer way than Olivia greeted Milo. He still wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, just not as aggressively as Olivia did Milo.

Pulling away, Daniel picked the hat up from the floor and placed it on Milo's head. "Hey Loser," Y/N couldn't stop herself from saying as he pulled the hat down.

"Hey Loser," he mimicked like a parrot. Olivia pulled away from Milo and returned to her fathers side, a proud smile on her face. "We were beginning to think you weren't going to make it," Daniel said as he placed his hands on her head, messing up his neat braids. "And Olivia wanted to introduce Milo to everybody."

That didn't surprise Y/N one bit. "Milo would love to be introduced to all of Livvy's uncles," she said.

Suddenly Olivia grabbed a hold of Milo's hand. She pulled him away, running back through the paddock. "Milo!" Y/N shouted, trying to reach for her son.

"Livvy!" Daniel shouted at the same time as he attempted to grab her, but she was already gone, already taking off down the paddock.

Y/N looked at Daniel. Daniel looked at Y/N. "Shit," they both said and took off, following their children down the paddock.

The first place Olivia wanted Milo to see was the Red Bull garage. "You need to meet my uncle Max, uncle Christian and my uncle Checo," she said as she pulled him around the RB20 with the number 1 on it.

Rather abruptly, Olivia was no longer holding Milo's hand. She was no longer on the ground, instead hoisted into somebodies arms. "Livvy!" The familiar man cried as he held Olivia on his hip.

"Uncle Maxy!" She screamed as she wrapped her arms around him.

At first Max didn't recognise the little boy Olivia was dragging around the paddock. He hadn't learnt his name, but he still recognised him from the AlphaTauri hat on his head. "Who's your friend?" He still asked her.

"This is Milo," she said. "He's my best friend from daycare."

Suddenly Y/N and Daniel were behind them. "Milo!" Y/N shouted, her voice scolding as she picked him up. "Don't you ever run away like that again! You scared me half to death!"

Daniel took Olivia from Max's hands. "What were you thinking, Badger? You know you can't just run off like that," he said, his voice a lot calmer than hers.

Blushing red, Olivia tucked her face in against Daniels chest. "Daddy you're embarrassing me in front of uncle Maxy," she muttered.

"If you're gonna take Milo around the paddock, you need to make sure you have me or his momma with you, okay?"

"Okay," she replied quietly and Daniel placed Olivia back on the ground.

He watched as she walked back to her Uncle Max, who took her and Milo's hands and walked them further into the garage. Daniel checked the watch on his wrist. "Listen, I've got to go and get ready for free practice. Think you can get the kids back to the garage in twenty minutes?" He asked.

"Definitely," Y/N said as she checked the time on her phone.

Daniel kissed her cheek before he took off. Goddamn, she was never going to wash that cheek again.

***

On Saturday it was a little easy to navigate the paddock. Y/N and Milo found themselves in the AlphaTauri garage with Daniel, Olivia, and Daniels teammate, Yuki.

Olivia and Milo were passionately defending McDonalds to Yuki. He was acting as babysitter while Daniel took Y/N into his drivers room. "I'm pretty sure I have an AlphaTauri shirt somewhere in here," he said as he went through the little wardrobe he had in his drivers room.

At last, he found one. "Aha," he said, wearing a grin as he pulled it from his wardrobe and passed it to her.

She took it gratefully. "Well, turn around then," she said, her smile somewhat daring. Daniel made a big show of shutting his eyes and turning around so that Y/N could get changed into his AlphaTauri shirt. "There," she said and Daniel turned around.

He placed his arm over her shoulders and walked her out of the drivers room, back to where the kids were still talking to Yuki. It was impressive enough that Yuki had managed to keep the swearing to a minimum, but Daniel supposed he'd had enough practice in front of Olivia after the last year of them being teammates.

"Now everybody knows who the hot single momma is supporting," he said as they joined his teammate.

This didn't go unnoticed by anybody in the AlphaTauri garage. Even those in Red Bull could see it, the fond looks they shared, the way Daniel was always standing close to her, the way he so clearly wanted to kiss her.

"You think I'm hot?" Y/N replied, but her tone was teasing.

Daniel spluttered like he had just been caught out. "Y-yeah, sure," he answered like he was unsure of himself. "You're Milo's hot momma."

"Well, if Olivia's hot papa thinking I'm hot, then it must be true," she said as she picked Milo up and placed him on her hip. They looked like quite a pair, with Milo in his AlphaTauri cap and Y/N in her shirt.

They watched the qualifying from the garage, with Olivia holding Y/N's hand and Milo sat in her lap. The qualifying felt incredibly long, but not boring. It was nerve wracking and, if she wasn't holding onto the kids, Y/N's nails would have been chewed down to nothing.

After Q1 was over, Y/N thought that was it. Daniel had finished in the top fifteen, top ten actually. He had made it through to Q2 but she didn't realise that, not until it was happening. "Livvy, what's going on?" She tried to ask, but Olivia had AlphaTauri ear defenders on and couldn't hear a thing.

Again, Daniel finished in the top ten. "Must be my lucky charms," he'd said down over the radio. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he meant, who he meant.

Daniel made it through Q3. He was doing better than his teammate, who had finished just outside of the top ten in Q2. He didn't finish as high as he wanted in Q3, not considering he wanted to go back to his glory days in Red Bull, but it was still good.

Starting P6 wasn't bad for an AlphaTauri, he decided as he climbed out of his car. He went through all of the usual procedures before making his way back to Olivia, Y/N and Milo.

A sweaty Daniel was... something else. Y/N couldn't tear her eyes away from him as he walked past them. She almost let out a low whistle, but she held back, remained her composure in front of the children.

If watching Formula One meant seeing a sweaty Daniel, she could live with that.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lillians-world-is-f1 @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

[mingtinys]

" not so fast, patient zero "

pairing : wen junhui x gn!reader

a nauseating amount of fluff

warnings : jun is sick, but that's abt it

word count : 1.2 k

requested ? yes

a/n : i'm of the opinion that jun gets (at minimum) 93% cuter when he's sick.

"Alright, where is he?" You sigh, scanning the brightly lit dance room for any sign of your boyfriend, frowning when you come up empty-handed. Seungcheol peels himself from the floor, sweaty and winded.

"He's down the hall, I'll show you." the leader says before calling back to the rest of his members. "Once I'm back, we'll start again from the second verse, so rest up and be ready." All he gets in return is a chorus of groans.

You say your goodbyes and quickly follow Seungcheol down the hall, just a few doors down. "Sorry to call you all the way over here," he whispers, stopping just before he opens the door. "We tried to get him to let staff take him home, but he insisted we call you."

You shrug, "S'okay, I wasn't doing much anyways."

Seungcheol nods and carefully peers inside before letting out a snort. "I think he's still passed out."

Sure enough, there's Jun, tucked into a corner on the floor, despite the perfectly good couch available, with his knees pulled all the way up to his chest. He sits beneath a mound of jackets, presumably belonging to the other members, eyes half-lidded and lips parted. You can not fathom how he could possibly be comfortable with how his head lolls to the side. If he weren't obviously sick, skin pale, and heavy bags under his eyes, you'd take a picture for future blackmail.

"You gonna need help getting him to your car?"

"If you could."

Seungcehol nods, "Yeah, not a problem, it'll give the guys a bit more of a break."

You quietly tiptoe over to the bundle that is your boyfriend and crouch down. "Jun, baby," you call. He mumbles something incoherent, shifting beneath his cocoon.

"Jun, come on baby, it's time to go home," you coo, reaching out to cup his jaw, his skin clammy and feverish. He lets out a pitiful hum, barely regaining consciousness as he tries to blink himself awake.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah, I'm here, sorry it took me so long."

"S'fine," he mumbles, making you smile. It's hard to be mad about your day off being interrupted when sick Jun is this adorable, red nose, puffy eyes, and all.

"You ready to go home?" Seungcheol's deep voice resonates behind you. He's already stepping around the mess of winter jackets and vests, hovering over the two of you with his hands on his hips.

"Yes, please." You think he tries to nod but just ends up bumping his head against the wall behind him. His face scrunches up at the contact, though you will say, he looks a lot more awake now.

"Alright, up you go," Seungcheol grabs Jun's wrists, pulling him to stand, albeit wobbly, on his feet. The jackets crumple to a sad pile on the floor, getting trampled as Seungcheol leads Jun to the door, arm hooked under his armpit to keep him upright. You're not sure you've ever seen Jun this sick, not even when he got the stomach bug and spent three days hunched over your toilet. It makes you worry, and not even the sweet smile Jun musters up as he thanks you for coming reassures you.

All in all, it takes about five minutes to walk Jun down to your car, and another fifteen for you to drive. Which should have only been ten, but you had to slow down tremendously when Jun started mumbling about feeling nauseous. Now, your only challenge was getting him up two flights of stairs to your apartment without the aid of Seungcheol.

He tries, rather unceremoniously, to climb his way up the first flight. He's mostly successful, gripping the railing and hoisting himself up one by one even though his legs move as though they're made of lead. However, there are only a few more steps when his toe catches the lip of the next and he nearly face-plants onto the landing. You're lunging for him in a second, grabbing his shoulders and steadying him with cat-like reflexes.

"Sorry, dizzy," he mumbles, taking a moment to shut his eyes and regain his bearings.

"Wen Junhui, what am I going to do with you?" You mumble, guiding him to conquer the few remaining stairs so you can unlock your door. "You can go lay down in my room, I'll be there in a minute."

You wait until Jun trudges through your living room and out of view before you busy yourself in the kitchen. Brewing a special immunity-boosting tea Minghao once gifted you and grabbing a sleeve of salted crackers, then a bottle of cold and flu medicine.

When you return to your room, tea, medicine, and crackers in hand, you're met with a similar sight as to when you picked up your boyfriend from dance practice. Cuddled up with about three of your blankets and nested amongst your many pillows and stuffed animals.

"Make yourself at home there?" You tease.

Jun's face softens into something akin to a smile. "It's cold."

You answer by handing him the tea with the cold medicine, which he gladly takes after digging himself out from his burrow enough to sit up. He sips slowly, taking small nibbles of the crackers in between.

Jun, unlike most, is actually the picture-perfect patient when he's sick. Doesn't fuss or argue when you're shoving medicine down his throat, listens when you tell him to rest, rarely asks for much, and is adorably clingy. The worst thing he does is pout and occasionally complain through sniffles about his head hurting. Really, the only downside is that you usually end up bedridden a few days later. Because Jun has a bad habit of claiming, "I don't want to get you sick," while simultaneously clinging to you like a koala.

There's a slurping beside you, Jun's head tilted all the way back and the mug practically upside down. He hands it back to you with a large grin on his face, muttering out a thanks that's significantly less raspy than his voice has been. You make a mental note to thank Mingaho for the tea.

"Feeling any better?" You ask, taking a seat next to him and brushing his hair back to feel his temperature; still warm. "Do you need anything else? More blankets, water, soup, maybe?"

He shakes his head, looking up at you with that same dopey look he always weaponizes before trying to persuade you into joining his antics. "A kiss."

"Not so fast, patient zero." You turn your head when he leans in, only for him to pull back with a look of utter betrayal, because how dare you deny him kisses when he needs them most.

"Come on," he whines. "Just one? For me? Please? I promise I'll take care of you when you're sick."

"No, Junhui."

"But what if I die? Then what? Then you'll never be able to kiss me again, is that what you want?"

"Really?" You dead pan. "You're gonna make this as difficult as possible, aren't you?"

He just puckers his lips. You sigh, internally cursing yourself for being born with a spine that has the structural integrity of a Twizzler. You give him a quick peck, then a second when he inevitably chases after for another, which seems to please him greatly. And because you're but a victim to Jun's charm, you press an extra long kiss to the crown of his head, earning a pleased hum from the boy in question.

"Happy now?"

"Very, you take good care of me."

"Yeah, well, take notes. Cause I can already feel your germs infecting me."

[mockingjaaaye]

So, Zoro giving Sanji one of his earrings.

They're aware of what the other feels. They know that the type of love they feel for each other is different from what they feel towards their crewmates, but considering the lives they have, taking risks everyday, they agreed on not pursuing a romantic relationship, maintaining their friendship. Being "nakama" it's more important than whatever desires they have.

But, even if they have this agreement, somedays they just ignore it. Living together and seeing the other everyday it's hard, you know. So, sometimes they just hide in the aquarium, or the bathroom, or the pantry. They can't help but to give in on their desires and let them selves enjoy each other's arms, each others lips, each other's hands. The heat of their bodies, caressing each other's skin, touching each other's hair.

After all this time, months, even years, they need to have these moments to relieve the longing. They don't regret a single bit of their decision, because they totally can be happy with just existing around the other.

At least that's what they tell to themselves.

The thing is that every single day that passes, Zoro can't stop thinking, at least once, about their agreement. Like, f*ck everything. If one of them dies tomorrow, is that gonna be it? They gonna live their last minutes with just stolen moments? They're losing time, goddammit!

So, one night all the crew has been drinking. It's been peaceful days on board of The Sunny, and everyone wanted to have a good time, so, after some hours of celebration he has drunk enough alcohol to feel slightly tipsy but also to begin to feel his inhibitions to wear out.

At one moment, while he's watching his friends start to get sleepy (in fact, Chopper is already sleeping in Robin's lap), he loses sight of the cook.

Zoro quickly locates him, hearing his steps behind him. As he turns and follows the sounds, he sees Sanji walking towards the galley. Right before Sanji enters the room, he locks eyes with him.

They look at each other for one second. Two seconds. Three. When Zoro gets to ten, Sanji turns and disappears through the door.

Zoro doesn't wait another second and he's already walking to join Sanji. He can't say no to those inviting eyes.

When he enters the room, it's dark. Zoro's about to call the blonde, but then he hears the lock of the door and feels the presence of the man he's been wanting to touch all night.

Not even a second after he turns, Sanji is already kissing him, hands on his shirt and his hair, while he pushes the swordsman towards the couch.

This is what he needed. This is what he needs. This is what he always wants to have. Not short moments every 2 weeks, when they can't stand another moment without feeling each other's lips. Not stolen glances during meals. He wants this right now, and every moment from now on.

They've been in each other's life's for years, and they just know that they'll always be there where the other is. If Sanji breathes, he wants to breath with him.

How else can he tell Sanji his own truth.

He tries to say it of through his fingers, he tries with his lips. How else can he tell Sanji "I'm yours. I always have been. I will always be yours".

And as Sanji kisses his neck, his shoulder, his chest, Zoro takes one of his earrings, and with his other hand cups Sanji's face, forcing him to break the kisses to look at him in the eyes.

Sanji looks at him confused, and the look deepens when he feels something cold against his ear. Slowly, the chef rises his own hand and covers the object with his fingers, touching it, trying to figure out what it is.

When he's about to ask Zoro what is going on, he notices the moss-head's left ear with the dim light the full moon provides.

"If you're not ready now, or ever, to forget our agreement, it's okay, but I want you to have this either way", Zoro tells him. "If I don't ever get to wake up with you, if I don't ever get to hold your hand whenever I want to, it's completely okay. But I want you to have a part of me with you. I need you to know that i want you in my life as long as I get to live, but everytime you look at this earring, what i want you to remember is that I'll always be at your side if you ever look for me. No matter what we are or who we are with".

It takes some minutes for Sanji to understand the weight of Zoro's words. To actually realize the size of the swordsman feelings for him. But more importantly, allowing his own love for Zoro to be free, and not forcefully hidden in the deepest part of his heart.

"I want it. Oh lord, I also want it, Zoro", Sanji answers as he starts crying. They kiss, more fiercely this time, but also differently. From now on, they won't have to steal rushed kisses in the middle of the night anymore.

"There's a problem, though", suddenly Sanji says.

Zoro opens his eyes and he swears his heart stops. What could possibly be wrong. Is Sanji already regretting this?

But Sanji smiles at him. "I don't think I can wear this. Can't help but notice that i have none of my ears pierced". And they both laugh.

They fix the problem that same night.

The next day, every single one of their crew mates notice the new piece of jewelry on Sanji's ear and, of course, the lack of one in Zoro's. None of his friends says anything, but they smile when they notice this welcoming change.

[coffeeghoulie]

Mushy May Day 26: "You Smell Nice"

After a long day, Aurora comes home to find Swiss in her bed looking for cuddles.

Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together and to @ghuleh-recs for making the dividers <3

Aurora steps into her room, baring all of her fangs as she yawns. It's been a long day, and she can't wait to sink into her nest and curl up into a deep sleep.

The lights are off, but Aurora doesn't need them to sense that she's not alone right now. The hair on the back of her neck stands up straight, and a growl builds behind her teeth, tail lashing violently behind her. But as soon as the threat slips past her lips, it dies on the air.

Within the piles of pillows and plushies on her bed, gifts from her packmates and soft things that caught her eye, two golden glowing eyes blink sluggishly open.

"Swiss?" Aurora says, flicking on the lamp on her nightstand. The room is awash in soft yellow light. There's a loud, indignant grumbling, and sure enough, there's her fellow multi-ghoul, half buried in her bed, curled up on his side. He covers his eyes with a thick forearm.

"Hey, princess," he mumbles, voice sticky with sleep. "I ever tell you you've got nice digs?"

Aurora chuckles, leaning in closer to trail a purple-painted claw up his forearm, watching goosebumps rise in its wake. "You come in for cuddles?"

Swiss pulls his arm from his face, smiling coyly up at her. "I mean, if you're offering, I won't say no, Rory."

She rolls her eyes playfully, arms crossed over her chest. The hand that had teased over his arm moves up until she cups his cheek, feeling the sharpness of the stubble there. "I was planning on taking a shower, but then I'll come give you some cuddles, you needy, needy ghoul."

Swiss must be exhausted, because he only blinks up at her, enraptured by the little ghoulette towering over him.

"I mean," Aurora continues, "You're more than welcome to join me, but I don't think you're gettin' up any time soon, huh?"

He groans, shifting slowly, the spade of his tail padding against the mattress. "Yeah, you're right," he smiles. "Too comfy."

Aurora leans back on her heels. "Alright, you big lug, I'll be back in like ten minutes for some multi cuddles."

He flashes her a honey-slow grin. "I'll hold you to it."

The last thing Aurora hears as she slips into her bathroom is Swiss laughing at his own joke. The door shuts and latches behind her, and Aurora sighs in relief as she turns on the shower.

Her gills flutter as she steps under the spray, warm water erasing the tension from her shoulders. As much as her affinity to water makes her want to drag the shower out, she really doesn't want to drag it out, knowing that there's cuddles waiting for her.

Aurora reaches for the black bottle of her shampoo, lathering up quickly. Her blunt claws scratch at her scalp, and she groans in satisfaction. A quick, thorough rinse, and she grabs the matching conditioner. She had bought the set on an off day on tour, from a little store in some mall where the air had been intensely fragrant with a thousand different scents that even humans would find it overwhelming.

She finishes washing up, rinsing the conditioner she's let sit while she washed her body. She steps out of the shower, shutting the water off and wrapping herself in an incredibly soft, fluffy towel. It's all for show though, a little material comfort.

Aurora calls on her air, a magickal breeze circling her small form, evaporating the moisture from her body. She shivers, the air cold on her damp skin, before reaching up, running her fingers through the wet strands of pink hair plastered to her scalp. It dries quickly, and she sighs in relief knowing that her bedhead in the morning will at least be managable.

She dresses in one of Cirrus's shirts, hanging down almost to her knees, before she shuts off the bathroom lights and steps back into her bedroom.

Swiss hasn't moved, still curled up and comfortable. His breathing is slow, and Aurora could almost believe that he's fallen back asleep if it weren't for those gold-coin eyes slowly blinking open. His fingers twitch where they're laid out on the mattress as his eyes focus on her, as if he was sleepily reaching for her.

"Just a second, pretty boy," she hums, reaching over to shut the nightstand lamp off, casting the room into darkness before she climbs into her bed. Aurora grabs a soft blanket from the foot of the bed, crawling up to lay against Swiss, picking up his arm to tuck herself into his big spoon. She throws the blanket over the both of them.

Swiss rumbles, instinctively pulling the little ghoulette against his chest, burying his face into the nape of her neck.

"Mmmmmm, you smell nice," he murmurs, and Aurora shivers as she feels the press of his fangs against her skin. He drags the points slowly, not biting or marking, just mouthing at the back of her neck. "Like fuckin' candy, could just eat you up, princess."

She reaches up, grabbing the hand holding her to him, holding his wrist with both hands as she relaxes into her pillows and his touch. "Think it's the shampoo," she giggles, even as goosebumps spring up on her nape.

Swiss chuffs, burying his nose in her pink hair; she can feel his inhale. "What's it, strawberry vanilla?"

"Mmhmm," she purrs, her tail wrapping around his calf as she feels her eyes growing heavy. "And lavender, too."

"Smells good. You always smell good," he babbles. His purr rattles through his body, strong enough for her to feel it. Swiss kisses the back of her neck, purring before rubbing his cheek against it. "Bed time, princess?" He asks, thumb smoothing back and forth in an arc right over her heart.

"I think so," she yawns, pulling his arm closer as she presses as close as she can get to his chest. "I like this, I like you having me."

Swiss laughs, no more than a huff of an exhale. "I like having you. I've got you, princess, go to sleep."

And as much as Aurora loves bossing him around on stage, she listens to Swiss, letting sleep take her.

[ugotcooneycrossed]

if i find you in this lifetime (it better be the right time)

alessia russo x reader

w/c: ~1.8k

part 3 of 'what can i do'

pt1: what can i do / pt2: so you feel it too?

a/n: girlie pop decided to break hearts so im mending them- enjoy😭

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

Watching her leave hurts- it’s a deep aching that settles low in your stomach and pushes up into your chest and you suddenly feel ill- like you can’t breathe without her here.

The thought that you’ve lost Alessia forever- your person- your sun, stars, and moon- your world. It’s enough to send a wave of nausea all over you again.

It’s not her leaving that hurts, no- what hurts more, is the silence that comes after- it’s radio silent between you two for a while.

In all your time knowing her, you’ve never not talked to each other- whether it be a quick good morning text, or a long conversation during nights before games, where you’re both too nervous to sleep. You always talk.

But now? Now, you’re too afraid to text her to ask if she’s okay, or that you’re sorry and you wish you could take it all back, that you never should have said anything. Because you would rather keep on lying than tell her the truth.

You give her the time she asks for- you wait for her to text you first. She doesn’t though.

Not a single call, text, voice memo- hell, you’d take a letter in the mail at this point- but nothing ever comes.

Suddenly it feels like you’re thirteen again- just having confessed to your best friend you found girls pretty- and then experiencing the most soul shattering heartbreak a thirteen-year-old can feel.

This time though- it feels about ten times as worse.

Knowing she had loved you too- knowing that she was just waiting for you to say something.

You wish you would’ve said something sooner- or nothing at all, you don’t know anymore.

You can’t think. You can’t feel- without her.

When you think of Alessia you’re reminded of home- it’s the only way you can explain it.

The way her smile send a wave a warmth through your body- till you feel your heart swells with love.

The way her touch causes your skin to heat up- goose-bumps trailing after her fingertips.

Maybe it's the way Alessia always seems to catch your eye in a crowded room. Maybe, it's the way she always personally seeks you out in a crowd. Maybe even, it's the way she gently links your arms together- no matter where, or how far you're walking.

Maybe it's just her.

Something about her makes you crazy- it makes your heart beat a thousand times faster, and stop in your chest all at the same time.

She’s your everything.

You can only hope that you’re hers too

She’s your everything.

And now you have nothing.

-

Your saving grace comes in the form of Ella- and not Leah and it leaves you confused, if not a bit hopeful.

I mean if her best friend’s coming to speak to you, it might be something good.

“Hey (y/n).”

Ella on her part- doesn’t let any emotions show, her voice is even and she looks at her feet when she speaks.

“Um hey Ella. How’s-“

“She’s fine. Can I come in?”

You step aside to let her in- looking behind her, craning your neck in hopes that Alessia just might be lurking somewhere behind her.

She’s not.

“Look- I just came here to tell you that she’s fine, she just needs more time.”

“More time? I mean, how much more are we talking, I feel like I’m drowning here Tooney.”

“How do you think she feels?” 

You swallow down the lump in your throat- stepping away from the other girl. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest and you want to curl up and scream.

“Right.”

It’s the only word you can muster, and you whisper it- looking down at the ground to avoid Ella’s eyes.

Ella looks around your apartment and suddenly you feel insecure- there’s tissues scattered everywhere and probably a concerning amount of take out boxes piled in the kitchen.

“Just some advice yeah? Talk to her- well, let her talk first, but just talk to her. I shouldn’t really be saying anything but, she loves you, and I know you love her too.”

“Thanks, Tooney.”

 “Yeah of course.”

Ella nods her head at you, and shuffles closer to your front door- she keeps her hand on the handle and you watch an internal battle play out on her face.

“Maybe give her a call?”

Ella leaves after that.

You’re left alone in your apartment once again- but instead of a deep heart ache that settles in your chest, it’s a glimmer of hope.

-

You don’t call Alessia- you put off the task for a while, still too nervous to even look at her caller ID without panicking.

Instead, you focus on cleaning your apartment- getting rid of the tissues and take away boxes, you’re just glad Tooney couldn’t see in your fridge, if she did, she would’ve seen the extra dessert you ordered Alessia- her favourite from the place you always order from when she comes ‘round.

You know- just in case.

The sun has long gone down by the time you’re done cleaning and you settle into bed after- only now looking at your phone.

Missed Call from ‘lessi love’

Your heart sinks in your chest and you drop your phone in your panic to call her back. All this time waiting for anything and you miss her call by three minutes. Idiot! You open the phone app and your finger hovers over the call button- should you? What if she’s mad, you missed her call?

In your time spiralling over what to do. You get a text from her shortly after.

lessi love to ‘You’

-> hey- I know you’re probably busy and want nothing to do with me anymore, but I’d really like to talk

You to ‘lessi love’

-> lessi I would love to talk

lessi love to ‘You’

-> mine? tomorrow?

You to ‘lessi love’

-> i’ll be there

-

You’re scared of a lot of things in this life.

Spiders.

Snakes.

Birds flying at you when you walk under trees.

And the one girl you’ve truly loved in this world not loving you back.

You’ve had some pretty tough days- and Alessia, has stuck by your side through them all.

She’s been there when you were at your lowest- she’s been there even on the worst kind of days.

The worst day though? Was watching her walk out of your apartment crying.

A million scenarios ran through your head- but her leaving? It never crossed your mind.  

Because how dare you love her- the way she deserves to be loved.

It sounds ridiculous to be so enthralled by someone- so hypnotised by just one person.

You know.

You’ve come to terms with it now though- even if Alessia decides she doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore.

You’d be okay with that.

You have had the time of your life with her, and you cannot possibly wait your whole life for her- no matter how tempting that sounds.

 -

You feel like a creep- pacing outside Alessia’s apartment, you wipe your hands nervously on your pants and smooth your hair out over again and again.

You must look like a complete and utter fool right now.

The door swings open and you stumble over your feet to stand still.

Alessia looks- well, she looks tired, she’s got bags under her eyes and when she speaks, her voice is hoarse.

“Hey (y/n).”

“Hi Lessi.”

You whisper- eyes softening and face warming up again.

Your resolve to ‘play it cool’ disappears and your chest fills with anxiety again.

You both stand apart from each other- just staring at one another.

Alessia raises her arms up and takes a small step forward.

“Can I have a hug? Please?”

Alessia’s voice cracks and she sounds like she wants to cry again- you must take a while to respond because you watch her face fall, and arms slowly drop again.

Before you can think you dive towards the other girl- arms slotting right under her arms and gripping her shoulders. Her strong arms find their home on you, and she wraps her arms around you.

You both stand in her doorway- just hugging, holding each other so tight.

“I missed you so, so much.”

Alessia whispers into you, and you feel tears wet your neck- you sniffle, tears now rolling down your face too.

“I missed you too­- so, so much, I was going crazy without you.”

“We should probably go inside.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you make a move to leave and it sends Alessia giggling.

You smile- missing her laugh.

“Okay seriously- let’s go inside.”

Alessia pulls out of the hug first- grabbing your hand instinctively and leading you inside. She pulls you gently to her couch and pushes you down to sit.

Alessia sits tentatively next to you.

A thick silence falls between you and you suck in a breath.

“I-“

You laugh again- both trying to speak at the same time.

“Let me go first- please.”

You nod at her, closing your eyes.

“Look- I’m sorry I completely ignored you for a week. I just- I really needed to think. (y/n)- I think, I think I have always loved you, it just took me a while to get it. And when I did I was scared- like so, so scared. I never wanted to lose you. So, I just pretended. And waited, and waited for you to say something- but you never did. I waited for your love- but the more I waited, the more unattainable you seemed. I tried to forget about you I swear- I love you so much and I never wanted to lose you. I’d rather be just your friend than anything else.”

You reach out to hold her hand- and she gladly accepts.

“Less- I have loved you since the moment I met you, you’re the most important person in my life. I thought you were happy with him- so I never wanted to ruin that for you. I’m in love with everything about you. This week has been the worst week of my life. I never want to go without you again. You’re my everything, I have never loved anyone the way I love you­- I don’t want us to just be friends.”

You’re panting now- chest heaving.

Alessia smiles at you and links your pinkies together.

“You’re my person too- you’re the only one who understands.”

“Does this make us girlfriends?”

“I hope you’re going to ask me properly (y/n).”

“Right. Alessia Russo, will you be my girlfriend?”

You make a dramatic show of getting down on one knee and holding her hand- one hand over your heart, smiling like a lunatic.

“Of course, you weirdo.”

-

“I kind of want desert- you know, from that place I like.”

“Umm we should go back to mine then- I missed you so much that I ordered one every night- in case you’d show up, there’s still one in the fridge.”

[maochira]

Until the mirror breaks. [Part 2]

[Part 1], [Part 3], [Part 4]

Synopsis: Sae is about to return to Spain, but before he does, he wants to talk to Rin about the way he views their youngest sibling.

Tags: gn!youngest sibling!reader, overprotective and slightly possessive Rin, angst, a crumb of comfort, reader was born shortly before Sae went to Spain

Itoshi sibling masterlist

It's Sae's last day before he returns to Spain. During his time at home, he was forced into "bonding time" with you over and over.

But it wasn't enjoyable a single time. Maybe because Sae just doesn't feel any connection towards you, or maybe because Rin would always be near to observe.

Because of what happened during your first "bonding time" with Sae, Rin lost his trust in the older brother when it comes to taking care of you. That's why he always needed to be near if it was Sae's turn to spend time with you.

Sae never commented on it, he never addressed it either. To avoid further conflict with Rin, he decided to ignore it. Sae was even glad whenever you decided you wanted to spend time with Rin instead.

Because Sae still doesn't care for you. Or does he?

The things Rin had said, about how you're going to be the next prodigy, keep repeating in Sae's brain. He keeps picturing you but in his position. And even if he doesn't realize it, Sae feels worried about you. He knows how much pressure all the attention at a young age can put on someone. In his eyes, you're still so small and fragile, especially since he saw the soccer ball hitting your face.

But it's not like he has a say in anything happening to you anyways. In ten minutes, he'll drive to the airport and return to Spain. And that's when he'll forget about you again. At least that's what he thinks.

And for the next few minutes, Sae keeps debating with himself if he should say bye to you and Rin, or if he should leave without a word. After all, he's currently not on the best terms with Rin.

Still a little hesitant about his decision, Sae walks through the hallway towards Rin's room and knocks at the door.

Rin knows it's Sae, so he doesn't respond. He knows his parents' knocking sounds different.

Sae knocks again, and this time he just opens the door without getting his younger brother's permission.

"What are you doing here?" Rin doesn't even look at Sae.

"I'm leaving in five minutes. I wanted to say bye." Sae reminds standing in the doorframe for the moment.

"Bye." Rin responds coldly. "Now leave."

"Before I do," Sae take a step into the room, which makes Rin look at him, "Don't put so much pressure on (Y/N)."

"I'm not putting pressure on them." Rin is already getting angry at Sae, but is trying to not show that in his voice. He doesn't want to show any emotion towards Sae, instead, he wants to only show coldness.

"You literally said they're going to be the next prodigy." Sae points out as he takes another step towards Rin.

"That's not putting pressure on them, that's literally a fact. I know they'll be as good as me one day and we'll beat you together."

Sae lets out a frustrated sigh. "Can you push the part about beating me aside for a moment?"

Rin's gaze at Sae gets colder than it's ever been. "You're the one who left our dream behind, so (Y/N) will be the one joining me on that dream instead."

"Rin, listen-"

Rin interrupts Sae without a care. "They'll be as great as me, I know it."

With everything Rin says, Sae grows more and more frustrated on the inside, but his tone of speaking is as calm as always. "Like you? What do you think (Y/N) is? A mirror?"

"Excuse me?" Rin gets up from his chair where he was sitting until now and walks closer to the older brother.

"(Y/N) isn't a mirror for you to reflect yourself in. If you want to beat me, go ahead and try. But don't pull the little one into what's between us."

"You have no idea about (Y/N), don't act like you're better because you're the oldest brother. You-"

"I have to leave now." Sae simply interrupts Rin. "Bye."

Sae turns around and walks away. Rin keeps standing in the same spot until he hears the front door close.

Rin is angry. In his point of view, Sae acts like a know-it-all who has a say about you, only because he's the oldest brother. But Rin knows you better. You're going to be the next prodigy, and you're going to be better than Sae.

At least that's what Rin thinks.

He tries to push the thoughts about Sae away. He's gone now and he won't be visiting home for some more time. Rin gets to have you all for himself again now, and he doesn't even have to worry about you getting injured because of Sae being careless around you again.

Rin decides to go to your room, where you're lying in your bed for your afternoon nap. Rin sits down at the edge of your bed and gently picks you up in his arms. You wake up very quickly from this and look up at your big brother.

The sight of your sleepy cute eyes makes Rin's heart melt. The anger he just felt towards Sae disappears in only a few seconds.

"Big meanie Sae is gone again." Rin strokes your hair as he speaks to you in a soft voice. "It's only you and me again, alright?"

You knew Sae would be leaving at some point. You knew he wouldn't stay at home permanently. But knowing you didn't get to say goodbye makes you sad. Despite how much closer you are to Rin, and how badly Rin has talked about Sae ever since the incident when you got hit with the ball, you like Sae a lot.

The way you like Sae can't be described with the word "love", as there was too little time spent with him to develop that. But also the way Rin talks about Sae has made you unsure if it's okay to love your oldest brother.

That doesn't matter anymore now, tho. Sae is gone again. As much as not saying goodbye upsets you, the comfort of being in Rin's arms makes it okay.

Rin is happy that now he gets to be the oldest brother again. His job is to protect you and help you reach the goals he's set for you, that's what he's sure about, no matter what Sae told him a few minutes ago.

But can this really go well in the long run?

In the meantime, Sae is in the taxi, driving to the airport. And just then he notices in his frustration about Rin's behaviour, he forgot to say bye to you. It causes a mild pressure in his chest that no amount of calm breathing can make disappear.

It's regret.

[piratefishmama]

You're writing is godly. Can you take a shot at

09.  “I should’ve told you back then, but I didn’t want you to leave.”

Writing Prompts | No longer accepting new prompts

It was the first time in ten years that Steve Harrington had seen Eddie Munson in person, and it was from what felt like miles away in shitty seats up on the balconies, the only saving grace was that Eddie was being tracked like prey by the camera guys, each step, each sway of his hair, each manic, dimpled, toothy grin blown up larger than life on the big screens on either side of the stage. The rest of the band blown up on the ones in the back.

He wasn’t looking at the ones in the back, although the guys suited being up there.

“Steve… he’s uh… Eddie I mean, corroded coffin, they’re playing, y’know? In Indy? Dustin got tickets, but… well they’re not the best tickets, nothing VIP or close to the pit or anything, I don’t think Eddie even knows Dustin’s going, but… we could at least go and see him perform…” it’d been Robin that’d mentioned it, none of them had seen Eddie in person.

He kept in touch when he could with Dustin and his little adventurers, Lucas, Mike, and Erica. But he’d left Hawkins behind with nothing there to hold him back.

There could have been.

Steve knew there could have been, Eddie had told him the night before he’d packed his stuff and left, bore his heart to him in his backyard, hair haloed by the blue light that shimmered off of the pool, nervous but hopeful, he’d offered his heart on a silver platter and Steve… god…

He hadn’t known.

He hadn’t known just how much Eddie meant to him until he was gone, off to stardom with his band, leaving a possible life behind for something else. Could have, should have, would have, it made no difference in the end. Steve had said no when he really meant he needed time to work out his feelings, he’d shut down the possibility before it could grow, and had regretted it ever since.

Eddie had been gone by the following morning, he’d only said goodbye to the kids. Apparently there’d been a record deal offered at his last gig, and his choice depended entirely on whether or not Steve said yes.

Part of him wished he’d have been selfish, part of him wished he’d known his own heart before he’d stupidly let the rejection slip out, things would have been different… but then… Eddie wouldn’t have had this.

He wouldn’t have had a stage, an audience of thousands cheering for him in awe. He would’ve been stuck, in Hawkins, a place that still hated him… Steve was happy for him, truly. Happy that he’d made it, even if it meant Steve could never have him. He could stomp around the stage dressed in denim and leather and shred on a guitar in a way that made Steve’s ears ring but his heart happy, he’d never be tied down to a place that hated him.

He'd never be stuck where the past could haunt him. He could be happy even if Steve couldn’t.

The gig was amazing though, even if Steve stook out like a sore thumb, he’d done his best, wore a little eyeliner, mussed up his hair, he wore Eddie’s old battle vest with the blood stains still visible cause he’d never been able to get them out and Eddie had never taken it back, had seen Steve still had it after they’d won and claimed “it looks better on you anyway” he still looked like someone’s out of place dad, but he was surrounded by the party so, it didn’t matter. Nobody was paying attention to him, nobody was looking for him, Eddie wouldn’t see him from so far away, probably couldn’t even see the row in front of his face with the lights shining on him so brightly.

And yet near the end of the concert, while the band were wrapping up on their final song (before the inevitable encore the audience demanded of them, Dustin claimed it’d probably wind up being Upside Down, or Pariah, two songs he’d always claimed had been inspired by ‘his past’ from the bands last album, they were fan favourites.) A burly guy dressed in a black crew neck with a big white ‘SECURITY’ stretched over his broad chest, flagged him down.

Steve motioned to his ears, he couldn’t hear shit over the music, and could barely hear shit on a regular day, but that particular security guard, simply signed the words:

‘Not in trouble, come with me.’ confidently, as if he knew Steve would understand it. Only when Steve frowned in confusion and signed back

‘why’ did the guy thrust his thumb over into the stage’s direction. The band.

Steve, feeling suspicious, turned to look toward the party, only to find Dustin giving him a thumbs up, and Robin making shoo motions with her hands. Scheming little shits knew he wouldn’t think twice about attending if the seats were so far away. Would think it was safe, that he wouldn’t have to face Eddie. Face his terrible decision that worked out for one of them but not the other.

He wouldn’t have to find himself waiting backstage in a quiet room behind a door labelled ‘Talent’ because of course he’d go. His traitorous legs and heart would force him to go at the mere chance of seeing Eddie again, of seeing him up close, of talking to him, of the chance to fix a mistake he’d made years ago even if his new answer wouldn’t change anything between them. It’d been too long, Eddie wouldn’t still want him when he could have anyone.

If they had told him, he wouldn’t have to see Eddie, quietly (a word not many used to describe the man) enter, his back facing Steve as he closed the door just as quietly as he’d entered. His hair was longer.

The curls fuller, they reached down to his mid-back now and glistened with a mixture of product and sweat, Steve still wanted to touch, still mourned the fact that he’d never gotten the chance to.

“Y’know… When ol Dusty bun said he’d get you here… I wish I’d have believed him. I owe him 20 bucks now.”

“You bet on me coming?” Of course he did.

Eddie turned to face him, a small wistful smile on his cheeks that just hinted the presence of dimples. “Wouldn’t you if you were in my place? Steeeeve Harrington, at a metal concert? Pfft, seems a bit farfetched. You even dressed up too, shit, man, I guess that’s forty bucks. Vest still suits you more.” Steve let his head duck down a little, his cheeks warming under the mans gaze, unsure of the feeling within it. He didn’t know Eddie anymore…

Had he ever really known Eddie though? Had he ever given them chance to know each other outside of sharing trauma and comparing matching scars?

“…Why?”

“Hm?”

“Why am I back here, Eddie? Why’d you call me back here? Why not the party, they’re here too, they’d probably wanna see you too, it’s been years… why?”

“Ah. Dustin told me to, said I should have another go at something I tried years ago that didn’t pan out very well for me the first time around… has been chatting my ear off about it every time he calls… I guess I finally humoured him.” Something he tried years ago? Involving Steve? “Listen, Steve… I—”

Steve cut in, he shouldn’t have, but words just… had to burst from him driven by a flickering ember of hope, he had to, even if it wasn’t the path Eddie’s words were taking, he had to, with hope driving him on “I should’ve told you back then, but I didn’t want you to leave.” Eddie’s mouth shut, his head tilting to the side a little in uncertain interest “I didn’t know… I should have just told you, I didn’t… I wasn’t sure, shit, Eddie… I’d never… you—I’d never felt like… like that for a guy before… I didn’t know what it meant, I should have said—I should have told you that I just needed more time… that I wasn’t ready to answer but… but I didn’t want you to leave. I didn’t know you’d be gone by the time I woke up. By the time I realised I was wrong, you were gone.” He wanted time, but his words had come out wrong.

He’d stumbled through them like he stumbled through everything, struggled to get the right words out and they’d wound up wrong. So so very wrong. “And you didn’t think to call?”

“Heh, you were on your way to fame, Eddie and you didn’t exactly leave a number, Dustin told me you had a chance at stardom… why would I want to weigh you down? Where would I fit in in this life of yours, Eddie? I’m no one, you could have anyone.”

“Mmn, anyone. Even if the one I want believes himself to be no one?” Hope burned brighter, its embers brilliant and warm. “So… can I try again? Or was Dustin wrong?”

“Did you make a bet with him about this too?”

“Absolutely, I’d owe him two hundred bucks if he’s right.”

“Would it be worth it if I said try again?”

“God, Sunshine, I’d drain my entire bank account right into that little buttheads pocket without a care in the world if it meant he was right… i never stopped...” Eddie stepped closer, "I never stopped wanting... even though I wished for the longest time that I could stop... it's always been you, Steve..." now close enough to be within reach, his voice quiet but hopeful “so... is he right? Should I try again?”

“…Please try again.” This time… he wouldn’t be saying no.

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A2 part 5

Synopsis: It’s been over a year since we were brought under Alastor’s watchful eye. We’ve unlocked our Demonic powers, discovered our own talents, and began building the Safe Haven with Charlie and co. Alastor seems increasingly interested in the power we hold as one and intends to use it properly.

Previous part

Part 5: protect and defend

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

"Alastor, sweetheart, you did the exact opposite of what I told you to do." Rosie planted her hands on her hips. Alastor was staring out the window with his hands clasped behind his back.

"She stepped out of line. I've been overlooking her abrasive behavior for too long."

"That's the whole point of a soulmate. Respect has to go both ways. You can't just tell her you're in charge. Where's the respect for her?"

"Providing everything she needs. Giving her the most freedom I could possibly allow."

"Ya know, for such a gentleman, you're really bad at this."

"I didn't pick her," each word was sticky like glue, "I got stuck with her." He stared at his own reflection, no longer interested in the busy streets of Hell.

"You're digging your own grave, my friend." Her tone dropped to a more somber one. "As your soulmate, she's the only one who can speak to you differently than others. And if you respect and care for her, she'll probably pay it back ten fold."

He looked down at the window ledge. His teeth were hidden behind his lips this time and his eyebrows were furrowed. He let out a short sigh through his nose.

"Is there something you're not telling me, Alastor?" She stood from her chair and slowly went over to him, stopping an arms length away and watching his reflection in the window.

For awhile he was silent. Rosie wondered if he was looking for the words or deciding not to answer. Though she kept quiet and waited for him to decide.

"I suppose..." His voice was low and the radio filter gone. "I don't feel ready."

"Ready for what?" she asked softly.

"For...I don't want her in my mind."

"That's what your soulmate is for. The one and only person to ever be allowed there."

"I don't know if she would even be able to handle it all." He turned to look at Rosie.

"This is a process my friend," she laid a light touch on his arm, "and it'll take some time. Don't rush this."

"I do not want to care about her." He sounded like a petty toddler.

"I think it's about time you find someone to care for. And hey," she leaned her head down so he'd make eye contact, "we've already seen how quick she learns. You two can handle it. Together."

"I don't know if I'm ready," he said again.

"You may never feel ready, sweetheart. And that's okay."

****

I sat on the roof of a building with Reagan beside me. Althea had told me that she was having a lot of mental trouble, and Vivian had noticed the teenagers outcasting her and her friend. So I brought Regan with me to the next execution rescue. We came early enough so that the two of us could chat and she could focus on something other than the haven.

The sun was setting and the main street was gradually growing less crowded. I was using an illusion to keep us hidden from any onlookers, keeping us warm from the late fall wind, and staying in my Human form. It was the most magic I had used simultaneously. She and I had been talking for an hour already.

"I feel so useless." She leaned her head on my shoulder. I tried to stay as still as possible. "At least in the rings I was good at something."

"You're fourteen," I replied, "And it hasn't even been a year since you were free. You don't have to be good at anything right now."

"But the others at least have magic or a Demon form. I'm just a useless...magicless...human."

I put an arm around her shoulders and she leaned further against me. I felt warmth spread through my chest at how comfortable she felt with me. "I think you ought to talk to Ms. Vivian more. She doesn't usually show her Demon form and I know for a fact she hardly uses magic. You don't need any of that stuff to be useful or have worth."

She wrapped her arm around my torso to squeeze me in a hug. She leaned her head further into my chest and I felt like she was trying to merge with me. I tightened my grip in response and gently rubbed my hand over her arm. I could remember my mother doing this from visiting my memories.

"I'm so glad you're here," she said. A heavy aura fell over us and I could guess she was close to or already crying. Did she actually care about me like that? Was I having a good influence on her?

My thoughts were interrupted by a quiet conversation. I strained to hear the snippets that sounded geared towards me and Reagan.

"She's on a different continent...do deals this far...come here to see for yourself...teleport her? She's not alone..."

Reagan felt me tense. She sat up and asked me what was wrong. I motioned for her to be quiet as my magic sense stretched out further. I was bracing for something to happen soon. This person was trying to get to me. From where, though? I couldn't pinpoint them.

The roof gave way. Reagan and I fell backwards and landed hard on our backs. We both rolled on your stomachs and jumped up. My Demon side came through as a man stood in front of us with a phone to his ear.

"Yeah, see you soon." He ended the call and slid his phone in his back pocket. "It's nice to finally meet the famous Snake Demon. Though you look more like a dragon if I say so myself."

"What do you want?" I demanded. I side stepped so Reagan was against my hip. I had my wings extended behind me and my claws in front of both of us. My lips were pulled back in a snarl.

"Oh I want nothing to do with you. It's someone else that wants you. I'm just the deliverer." He was wearing black dress pants and a blue vest. His brown hair was slicked back and a wide, charming smile glinted in the red light.

We were in Hell. I didn't know where exactly but this wasn't a good place to be with Reagan. I could feel magic flowing through my veins much easier here, almost as if there had been a blockage of some kind that I hadn't noticed before.

At the very least I knew we were outside. We were in some kind of courtyard surrounded by vastly tall buildings. There were lines of clothes spiderwebbing overhead.

"Have you really been kidnapping ring fighters?" the man asked. "That's quite an impressive feat."

"What's it to you?" My eyes were looking all over for an escape. There was an easy alley behind him or the spiderweb of clothes above. Though I could run through the buildings to make it confusing for both of us.

"Who is he?" Reagan asked quietly.

The man heard and put a hand proudly on his chest. "Finn Hartley, at your service." He gave a short bow before snapping back up. "So tell me, are you really the Radio Demon's soulmate?"

I was trying to get a read on this man. He was obviously a Demon and has enough power to teleport from the surface to Hell. I needed him to do something other than talk so I could figure out how strong and skilled he was with magic.

"I think we'll be leaving." I stood up and moved Reagan to my other side so I was between them.

"Am I asking too many questions? I'm sorry, I just heard a lot about you. If I had known you'd be in town I would've tried to schedule coffee with you."

"I don't drink that stuff." I took a few steps towards him, eager to push him out of the way and run. His calmness was unnerving. At least Alastor was calm and terrifying. I had something to work with when it came to him, unlike this man.

"But you haven't met my boss. Well, 'a boss'. At least for now until he pays me for bringing you here." He put both hands on his hips and I felt him drawing up energy to use magic.

"Who is it?"

"That would take away the impact of his arrival would it not?"

I couldn't figure out whose smile I preferred. His white, clean, smooth smile or Alastor's yellow, sharp, and jagged one. This man sounded like he used his wits but I wondered how skilled he was with magic.

"I don't intend to meet him."

"You already have," a voice came from above.

I covered Reagan with a wing as my head snapped up. The figure jumped down from a pipe by a window and landed between me and the man. I instantly recognized the tail, clothes, and hat of Striker.

My hands were immediately sweating and my legs felt cold. I backed Reagan and I into the wall. He casted a glance over his shoulder before handing Finn a clasp of metal credits.

"Good doing business with you sir." Finn tipped his head.

"Give Blackwater my regards," Striker said. Finn promptly teleported himself away, leaving the three of us alone.

"Run," I whispered to Reagan. "Find the big white palace and run there. Tell him I sent you." I casted a tall wall of fire between us and Striker before shoving her into the closest doorway. I closed it behind her and turned to face my old master.

He came lunging through the fire, the flames avoiding him at all costs. I ducked so his claws sent sparks along the wall. I went on all fours and ran down the alley. My eyes widened as I saw him slipping into the doorway after Reagan.

I flew across the clearing and up the stairs inside. I casted wind like crazy so his body was thrown off balance left and right. I landed on his tail and he whirled with sharp claws extended. He caught my face and the force slammed my shoulder against the wall. I casted fire towards him as I was momentarily blinded.

The pain was pulsing through my face and into my neck. I pressed on the wound to lighten it and fight back. But Striker was running up the stairs again. I morphed into my Dragon form and took the stairs in two strides.

I slammed a claw down on his back. He stabbed my palm with something sharp and lunged at my face again. I went back to my Demon form and watched him fly over me and all the way back down the stairs.

I glanced over my shoulder to see Reagan nowhere in sight. I hoped the palace wasn't far and she could get there alright. Would Demons try to mess with her? She obviously looked human but not all Demons stayed in their true forms here.

Please just run.

Striker casted wind from behind and sent me sliding down the stairs. I stopped halfway and brought two stairs up to the ceiling. I ran back up and whisked around the corner. The ceiling cracked open and debris fell on top of me.

Concrete took my shoulder to the floor. I used wind to shove it all off me, a white lasso falling over my face and snapping tight around my neck. I was bent over backwards as he pulled it hard. He kicked open the nearest door and dragged me through. I grabbed the white rope to resist from my knees.

He opened the window and jumped through. My stomach dropped as the rope stayed tight. I went with the pull and jumped through the window before his force took my head clean off my shoulder. I hit one of the wires and it threw off my landing. I felt a horrendous snap in my knee as I landed awkwardly, screaming from the pain and digging my claws into the pavement.

I put a hand near my knee, too afraid to feel what had happened to it. Striker stalked over and shoved my shoulder with his boot so I was flat on my back. He let out a deep chuckle. "I told you, you may be a champion fighter but you'll never best me."

Tears clouded my eyes as I continued to cry into the concrete. My face and knee were in so much pain. I could dull it but there was only so much I could do with this much pain.

He knelt down and pulled the lasso up so my head came an inch off the ground. "And your dark prince ain't here to save ya either."

I threw my claw up and caught his chin. He reared back up and I used all my strength to dig my claws into his knee. He grabbed my wrist but I casted a huge gust of wind to send him flying back. He hit the wall and I brought the hard stone of the floor up so it covered him like armor.

Rolling over, I casted a huge gust of fog over the courtyard. I used magic to pull myself to the side and into another doorway. I dragged myself up the stairs, still keeping the fog heavy around Striker. I crawled through the hallways as I listened to him scream and curse my name. I got rid of the fog and put an illusion over myself to stay camouflaged against the walls. He ran right past me.

My entire bad leg was tingling and all other limbs were burning from overexertion. I made my way down the stairs and back to the courtyard. Tears were steaming down my face as I half hobbled half crawled down the alley. I heard Striker yell that he was going to find Reagan.

Help. Need help.

I pushed myself to my two feet once I was at the street. I was barely able to take a step before I collapsed on the sidewalk.

"Are you okay?" someone asked. My illusion was gone. "What happened?" They had long black hair surrounding an owl-like face and dressed in basic brown and dark green colors. "Do you need help?"

I didn't want to risk it but Reagan was in trouble. I got up on my elbows and good knee. "Cannibal town. Where?"

"Right down the street. What's wrong with your leg?"

"Help me there." I extended an arm and they immediately took it. They pulled me to my feet and let me lean half my weight on their narrow figure. I hobbled down the street with them until we reached the entrance to Rosie's territory.

"Rosie's Emporium," I said next. They asked the closest cannibal and they directed them the right way. I was dragged all the way until we got to the front door of her store. The door flew open in a frenzy and she helped me through the door. I instantly felt safe as she and her cannibals carried me to the back room.

I gripped the chair arms as pain bolted through my spine. Rosie tried to talk to me but I couldn't think clearly. "Reagan...Human girl...Lucifer's palace. Please."

Rosie sent out a few people in search of her. She came back to me and examined the injury. I continued to cry and yelp at the pain that even the slightest of movement caused.

She put a hand on my forehead, the pain gradually melting away until it became much more bearable. I let out a sigh and leaned back into the chair. She didn't take her hand from my sweaty face.

"You'll need an actual healer, but I can make it easier for you," she explained. I was finally going to be grateful for our tough Healer, Althea. I hoped the cannibals could find Reagan. I was worried another Demon might've gotten to her first.

I waited impatiently for what felt like an hour. I would never forgive myself if her cannibals came back empty handed. I couldn't lose her because I couldn't handle one Demon. I had fought my entire life, so why could I never beat Striker?

My heart dropped in my stomach when her men and women came back with no Reagan. I covered my face with both hands as I let out a cry. She was gone all because of me. She had just told me how grateful she was for me and within the hour I had sent her to her death.

Rosie was instantly at my side. She put a hand on my back and tried to keep my claws from piercing my own head. She tried to reason that she had made it to Lucifer's palace but I didn't believe in good consequences.

"Rosie do you know where-" Alastor took three steps into the room before realizing I was there. "Never mind. What happened?"

"Reagan's gone," I cried. "She's dead because of me."

He cocked his head to the side. "She's back at the Haven."

"What?" My head snapped up.

He moved to stand in front of me, hands resting on his cane. "Lucifer brought her back. He said you had told her to run to him."

"So she's safe?" I clarified, earning a simple nod from him. I leaned back in the chair covering my face again. Now the tears were relief.

"Care to tell me happened?" he asked.

"Her knee is broken. She needs a Healer first," Rosie said.

"Good thing we have one," he reassured her. He moved to me and snaked an arm behind my back. I wanted to protest but I knew I couldn't walk. I was still angry about our last conversation.

I put an arm over his shoulder as he hoisted me out of the chair. I yelped and held on tighter as the pain made its way to my brain. He had his arm under my legs but used his hand to keep my bad leg from bending too much.

"Thank you Rosie." He nodded to the Overlord. She held the door for us and he teleported through the scorched symbol on the ground. He carried me past the house and into the Haven. I hoped he wasn't going to get mad when he found I had gotten blood on his clothes. My face was still bleeding and I had been leaning it on his shoulder.

Althea worked quick as soon as she saw me. Alastor carefully laid me on the 'medical' bed she always had in the common space. My back arched from the pain and I punctured holes in the sheets from gripping them with my claws.

"The hell did you do to your knee?" Althea asked, not looking for a response.

Alastor put a hand on my forehead to help ease the pain. Althea cut the fabric of my pants so she could work. Even with his magic, the pain of healing still made my body contort. She was moving my bones around before actually beginning the healing process. That part hurt worse than moving my bones.

Alastor's hand never left my forehead as he quieted my yells with magic. I was in and out of consciousness, each awakening hoping that was the last time. How was healing taking so long? I felt naesous and tried to roll over to get sick. Althea was quick and pulled a bucket over just in time.

I fell unconscious again after that. This time, when I came to, she was walking away from my normally colored knee. I let out a sigh of relief. It was quickly taken away from me as she went to my face.

Alastor removed his hand and it felt like he was taking part of my soul with him. A shiver ran through my body and I suddenly felt very cold.

She took a damp rag and soaked up the blood on my face. It had dropped down my cheeks, past my chin, down my neck, and soaked the top of my shirt. She wiped my face and neck clean before healing another broken bone. This one wasn't as bad but it still made me wince and cry from the sharp pain. Why was healing so painful?

When she finished, she took a step back and sighed. She announced me healed and wanted to keep me in the bed with a new pair of clothes overnight. I desperately wanted new clothes and a thick sheet to stop me from shivering so much.

"What happened?" Alastor asked, coming back into view.

"Striker found me," I said through a gasp. I was trying to catch my breath. "Someone else did. They...he paid them."

"He's becoming a nuisance."

I wasn't sure how to take that comment. I closed my eyes and let out a heavy sigh. Althea opened the door to let Reagan come sprinting in. She wrapped her arms around me and leaned her weight on my chest. I returned the hug as tears fell down my cheeks.

"You're okay." I put a hand on the back of her head. She was real and in front of me. She was safe.

"I'm so sorry!"

"No. You did exactly what I needed you to do. I'm so glad you're safe." My other hand was rubbing her back. Alastor's presence around my shields turned noticeably warm, replacing the usual cold chill I felt from him. He turned on his heels and walked to the door.

"Alastor," I called. It still felt strange to use his name. He stopped and turned his head to acknowledge me. "I need...I want to learn how to fight with magic. No more discovering other things, I just...I need to be better at it."

I needed to learn how to use magic offensively. I barely managed to get away from Striker. This made it three times I had escaped him. His next move might be more dangerous and deadly. I needed to be able to protect my people from more than a single threat.

"I can work with that." He disappeared into his shadows.

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

Author's Note:

Gosh I missed writing these interactions with Alastor. More are coming, I promise!

Welcome OC Finn! There’s a couple mentions of some other OCs but we’ll get to them soon :)

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Black Reader - The Bodyguard Part 4/8

Summary - Reader is a popstars in trouble and Ruben is her new bodyguard, here to protect and help her find out who wants to hurt her. But what happens when the relationship between Reader and Ruben simply gets too personal?

Enjoy!

"What if it's just Elvis messing with you?" Your sister said.

The follwing days were spent trying to figure out what this wanna be terrorists wanted from you.

"I don't think so. I've never told anyone about Dickonataor 3000. Everybody just assumes a crazy fan sent me that bloody knife."

"Oh, well. I've told Tanya not to give into the threats. Imagine what this maniac would do with ten million euros."

"But the pictures." You said, feeling slightly guilty for putting Tanya in this position, she left your apartment swearing that if the Images ever got leaked, you'd be the one to pay for it.

"She'll get over it. You have more important things to think about."

"Like what?" You frowned.

"Like your gala performance tonight."

"Right." You had forgot about the invite you received to preform at at this big charity event.

"Do I really have to go to that?"

"Of course you do. Y/N, you have nothing to worry about, not with Ruben as your bodyguard."

Your sister was right about that. You had become dependent on Ruben and the shadow he casted behind you. He followed you where ever you went, not allowing anyone to come within arms reach, not even your fans.

"I don't need you to come dress shopping with me." You told him. It's where you drew the line. Suraya Bebu was one of your favorite designers and a very private woman. Ruben's presence could intimidate her and the last thing you needed was to not have a dress for your performance tonight. But of course, as stubborn as he was, Ruben came with you anyway.

"Y/N, darling!" The elegant lady greeted, as you stepped into her boutique, followed by Ruben.

"Madame Bebu! So nice to see you again."

The woman had gone for a hug and kiss with her greeting but paused at the sight of the tall man blocking the sun.

"Well, well, well. Who is this, your date for the evening?"

You frowned, "Who, Ruben?"

"Is that what his name is?" Madame Bebu let her glasses rest at the top of her nose, getting a better look at him.

"Oh, no." You protested. "This is just my bodyguard, Ruben. He will be with me tonight,  but not as my date."

"Hmmm." Madame Bebu muttered, her eyes darting at the stern looking man who had taken his place by the door, guarding it. "I'll see what I can do." She said. "Follow me!"

"Oh, no Madame, I'm here for my fitting. Ruben doesn't need to try on anything."

"Nonsens! You said that he's not your date but he will be seen along side you tonight,  no?"

"Yes, so?"

"So." She snorted. "If you're wearing Madame Bebu, he's wearing Madame Bebu. I will not have another designers name match my dress, especially not some two pieced, what is he wearing,  Armani?"

"Ruben." You anxiously waved him over.

He was quickly at your service "Yes?"

You reached up to whisper in his ear, causing his eyes to bat in suprise. "Y/N, I'm sorry but..."

"Please Ruben, she won't let me try on a dress unless you try on a suit."

"Y/N, I'm not here to..."

"I know, I know,  it's below your paygrade, but what else is new?"

Ruben's expression softened, seeing the desperation in your eyes. "Fine." He sighed and stripped himself of his jacket.

"Oh my." Madame Bebu gasped.

Ruben wore a white t-shirt underneath his jacket, tight enough to show off the swell of his biceps and the traces of his abs.

"I'll go get my measuring tools." She winked, leaving you and Ruben to wander her boutique.

It was a luxurious boutique, filled with racks of delicate fabrics and dazzling designs. You browsed through the gowns, trying to find the perfect one, while Ruben wandered over to the selection of suits.

As you slipped into the first dress, you couldn't help but notice Ruben in the mirror nearby, struggling with the buttons of a suit jacket. You burst into laughter, seeing his usually composed demeanor fall away as he fumbled with the garment.

"Ruben, you're supposed to make it look easy," you teased, amusement dancing in your eyes.

He smirked and turned towards you. "Well, Y/N, maybe you should try helping me instead of standing there and laughing."

You rushed to assist him, your hands brushing against each other as you worked on the buttons of the suit.

"Like this?" He asked, follwing your lead with the buttons.

"She is a special designer, madame Bebu. All of her designs are so unique."

"No shit." Ruben gushed.

You giggled, raising your hands to adjust his collar. The untamed hair on the back of his neck tickled your fingertips. "You should get a hair cut."

"You should let me do my job. So I guess neither of us is getting what we want."

You smiled, but it quickly faded. Ruben noticed this and helped you fold the last corner of his collar. "Are you nervous about your performance tonight?"

You shook your head. "More excited. The song I'm performing is one I wrote for my mother. It's sad that she can't be here and see me perfom it live."

"Does she live far away?" Ruben asked. He seemed a bit more relaxed now. You liked this side of him the most.

"She lives in Brussels where I'm from."

"You're from Belgium?"

"Didn't my accent give me away?"

He smiled "No."

"Tell me where you're from. Where abouts in Portugal?"

Ruben's eyes search your face, perhaps conflicted about how much of his private life that he should share with you.

"I'm from...."

"Sorry I'm late, my plane was..."

"Tyson?"

You and Ruben had been standing close. That distance decreased when a man, dressed in white sneakers and a leather jacket, stepped into the boutique.

"Y/N?" He frowned, his eyes shifting between you and Ruben, Ruben who was shielding your body a bit with his own.

"It's okay." You said. "I know him."

Ruben let you through. He let you approach the man, who held out his arms for you to fall into his embrace.

"Suprise!" He said.

"What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean? I came to support my girlfriend of course, support her on the success of her new album."

You wiggled out of his embrace, turning to look at Ruben. "This is Tyson, Tyson is my...my...."

Soft lips braced your neck, Tysons lips.

"...boyfriend."

[idabbleincrazy]

We Make Our Own Destiny: Ageless (Prologue)

Fandom: Smallville

Rating: E

Pairing: Clex

Word Count: 6433

Warnings: smut, bottom!Lex, foreplay, dirty talk, brief oral, rimming, multiple orgasms, anal fingering, anal, bottoming from the top, The Princess Bride references

Summary: Lex finally gets Clark Kent in his bed.

A/N: yeah, I lied. the prologue will now be three parts, not two. oops.

Part Two:

Lex found himself pinned to the solid oak door the second he closed it behind them, Clark's bulk pressed against him from chest to groin as the brunette dipped his head to capture his lips in a kiss. 

"Clark! Didn't Martha tell you to behave", Lex asked with a groan, his head thudding back against the front door as he pulled away from that forever tempting mouth.

"And I did." Clark took advantage of Lex's exposed throat, skimming his teeth over the smooth column of skin hard enough to sting, but light enough that any resulting redness would fade away within minutes. "I kept my hands to myself the whole ride here."

"Wow, ten whole minutes. What a - oh, shit, yeah - a hardship."

"It was, actually, watching you handle that stick-shift. The only reason I managed was 'cause I didn't want you to end up wrapping the car around a tree. You need to stop driving so fast." Clark's broad hands clutched at Lex's waist, lifting him up, and Lex let instinct take over, his legs wrapping around Clark's hips. "You're...precious cargo, Lex, and better undamaged."

Lex heard the unspoken mine in that half-second pause, and an unexpected thrill of arousal coursed along his spine. He was his, had been for a long time, he just didn't expect to like being so owned, possessed. But Clark was his, too, that mutual claim an invisible tether drawing them together against all odds. A rougher nip to his collarbone pulled Lex from his thoughts, and with a groan, he tugged futilely at Clark's hair.

"God, can't…not here, Clark. The staff…"

And with a yelp of shock, Lex felt Clark's arms wind around his back, clutching him close as he sped through the foyer and up the stairs, only stopping once they'd reached the first landing. 

"Your room, or mine?"

"Christ, Clark, warn me before you do that!"

Clark stifled a chuckle and nuzzled into Lex's neck. 

"Sorry. You know I'd never drop you though, right?"

"I know, I'm just still getting used to the knowledge that you have all these abilities. Seeing, and feeling, them in action like this is a bit more than I was prepared for." Lex tucked his head into the crook of Clark's shoulder, hiding his eyes from the dizzying sight of the world moving past them in a blur. "Alright, my room."

Clark zipped them down the long hallway to where he knew, thanks to a few instances of curious snooping, Lex's bedroom to be. He'd only ever seen the room through the skewed perspective of his x-ray vision, so when he stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind them, he set Lex on his feet and looked around the large space. 

Easily the same size as his own, Lex's bedroom was not styled in the same dorm-room-meets-technophile chic that had been utilized in decorating Clark's. Much like the library-slash-office and the media room, Clark could tell that Lex had had a heavy hand in personally picking out the furnishings of the room; rather than the modern, sleek chrome and black leather he saw in the more public rooms of the house and Lionel's LuthorCorp office, the bedroom was tastefully strewn with carefully selected pieces of antique furniture. Each of which Clark was sure had a rich and storied history that Lex had memorized. 

Hell, Clark suspected even the bed, that might even be slightly larger than even his own, had once belonged to some minor prince or duke a few hundred years ago. It was placed against the far wall, fitting perfectly within the broad strip of wall that was set between the wide stained-glass windows facing out towards the sprawling garden behind the manor. The windows themselves were currently shuttered away behind thick, velvet curtains of the darkest shade of purple Clark had ever seen. 

A door lay off to the left side of the room, and flipping into his x-ray vision for a second, Clark confirmed his suspicion of it being a walk-in closet; one that was nearly as large as the main room. Off to the right, a slightly ajar door led the way to an extravagant bathroom. There were a couple of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves placed around the room, full of books similar in subject to those in the library, and one shelf completely filled with Warrior Angel comics, making Clark smile. 

The main source of lighting came from an ornate ceiling fixture that was not quite a chandelier, but not not a chandelier, though there was a lamp on the bedside table that was set on the left side of the bed. 

Lionel's decorative tastes had always seemed to smack of the nouveau riche, whereas Lex's private spaces tended to exude old money, and the bedroom was no exception. This looked like a place where Lex allowed himself to just be, all the masks he was forced to wear daily left outside in the gloomy stone hallway. Clark could see himself sharing this space…someday. Tucking themselves under the plush plum comforter after long days at their respective jobs, snuggling into each other's arms as sleep came. It was a room he could see a future in. 

"Clark?" Lex's quizzical tone pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned around to see Lex now sprawled out on the bed, his feet bare and surprisingly arousing. Clark felt a dopey smile twist his lips as he watched Lex stretch up to take off his t-shirt, his slightly flagging erection rehardening as whipcord muscles and an expanse of pale, smooth skin were revealed to his sight. He'd seen him naked twice already, but he expected he'd never stop being amazed by the sight before him. "We don't have to have sex, you know? If you're not up to it."

Shaking off the look that he belatedly realized might come off more as sleepy than aroused, Clark let out a snort of laughter, toeing off his boots and crossing the room at a pace just this side of human.

"Trust me, between being a teenager, and alien stamina that seems to be powered by the sun, I'm pretty much always up for it." 

The sound Lex made was somewhere between a hungry growl and a groan of despair as he pulled Clark down on the bed next to him as soon as he was in reach.

"God, you're going to wear me out before I'm thirty, aren't you?" 

"Nah, with that Kryptonite-enhanced healing you've got going, I think you'll hold up pretty well until at least thirty-five."

"Smart-ass." Lex turned onto his side, propping himself on an elbow to look down at Clark, admiring the sight of him finally in his bed. For however long that lasted. "Seriously though, we haven't really talked everything out yet. Bad as my record for relationships may be, I do want this to work out, Clark. There's a lot you still don't know about my…activities…over the past year, and while I am going to try to get everything halted as soon as possible, with my father back in the picture…"

"Stop." Clark's voice was firm as he sat up, taking Lex's face gently in his hands. "I may not know everything, but I know enough for now. I know I trust you to do the right thing. No couple knows every single detail of the other person's life at the immediate start. It's been less than a day, Lex, I…can we just have one aspect of our lives be normal? Can we just let ourse get used to this, to being together, before delving into the difficult, complicated stuff?"

Looking into Clark's earnest, pleading, dazzling green eyes, Lex felt himself relax, slightly. Normal. Could he even do normal? And just how normal could a relationship really be, between an alien with a savior-complex and a meteor-mutated billionaire who was still clawing his way out of the clutches of his dictatorial father? There was no precedent for something like this, they would have to figure it out as they went through it, and hope for the best. The scientist in him both balked and thrilled at the prospect. 

"Alright," the businessman in him won out, "we'll table it for now. But, I want you to stay away from Jason from now on. I don't trust him, or his mother. I think they have their own agenda in searching for the Stones, separate from even my father's reasons."

"I think you're right. About not trusting him. Even Lana was starting to question everything about their relationship; she said that's why she broke it off with him." 

"Right," Lex took Clark's hands in his and stretched them up over their heads, pinning them against the headboard as he rolled himself over on top of Clark, half-straddling the broad chest, "now that we've got that all, mostly, settled, where were we?"

Clark gasped at the very sudden resurgence of his arousal, surprised once again by the fluid grace of Lex's movements as he unexpectedly went from beside him to on top of him. All thoughts of the Teagues, and Lana, and Lionel, and anything else they had just been talking about, flew from his mind as the solid, warm weight of his…boyfriend? lover?...of Lex, settled onto him, their fingers lacing above his head, Lex's dipping to press his lips to Clark's in a kiss that was way too slow for his liking. The instant Lex parted his lips, Clark flicked his tongue out, delving past them, seeking out Lex's and urging it into action. They'd done slow and sweet up in the loft, right now, he wanted the rush and urgency that had led them from the front door to here.

Lex let Clark take control of the kiss, following his lead when their tongues tangled, losing himself in Clark's need. He shifted, settling himself in Clark's lap, letting out a moan when he felt Clark's hardness against his own, regretting that they were both still way too clothed. 

"Lex", Clark rasped out against his lips between kisses, barely remembering to let the other come up for air. "Oh, God, Lex, want you."

"Yeah? How do you want me, baby? Hmm?"

Clark bucked up, really wishing he could feel skin against skin. 

"I want…oh, shit…want you in me this time, Lex."

Lex broke the kiss and let go of his hands, sitting up on Clark's thighs. Clark can't quite figure out the odd look on his face, so he shifts them, sitting up against the headboard and cupping Lex's cheek, the other hand bracing against the bare skin of his back. 

"What? What's wrong?"

"I think we should wait before we take that step, Clark."

Clark felt the nervousness he didn't feel the night before make its appearance, confused and suddenly absent of all the self-confidence he'd had the last two times they'd made love. He let his hand drop back into his lap, glad now that he wasn't yet naked. 

"I…is it me? Do you…do you not want me like that?"

Lex huffed a self-deprecating chuckle and this time, he was the one to take Clark's face in his hands, his eyes serious as they locked with Clark's. 

"Oh, Clark, believe me, I want you. God, I want you, every way imaginable. But, think about it logically." Lex paused, deciding how to word it in less scientific and mathematical terms, knowing full well that Clark may be much more brilliant than his GPA might lead others to believe, but that the young, horny, nervous man probably wasn't firing on all cylinders right at that moment. "You know how, when you're in me, and I'm coming? The way I clench down on you…can you feel that, more than when I'm not?"

"Yeah…kinda. It's…it's like you're suddenly a bit tighter than usual. I mean, it doesn't hurt," Clark hurriedly added, not wanting Lex to think the feeling was painful for him, "it just feels…more. I…oh. Oh!"

"Yes. See, it's not that I don't want to be the one doing the fucking, but I don't think that's really an option right now. Even with all the care you take to keep yourself under control when we're having sex, it's a medical risk. Even humans can't completely control muscle tension during orgasm, Clark, and with your strength…"

"Ow. Yeah, I get it." Clark's face fell at the realization that he might never get to feel Lex's cock inside him, feel what Lex felt that made his eyes go wide when he thrust just so. Then a thought struck him. "What about Kryptonite? It weakens me. I could hold a piece in my hand and-"

"No!" Lex was staring down at him wearing a horrified expression. His grip tightened around Clark's face, though it was still far from painful. "You are not going to subject yourself to the effects of green Kryptonite just for the sake of having my dick up your ass, Clark! How could you even suggest that? I've seen what it does to you, Clark, and I am not going to condone recreational use of something that could end up disabling you."

Clark hadn't expected him to get so upset over the suggestion, and a lump swelled in his throat at how much Lex cared. He seemed just as angry about the hypothetical usage of Kryptonite as his mother had been when she'd caught him trying to use it in order to stay on the football team a few months ago. 

"Okay! Lex, okay. We won't use it. I didn't mean to upset you, I just thought…"

Lex's grip loosened and he dipped his head down for a soft kiss, exuding his understanding. Of course he would love nothing more than to sink his cock into that virgin tight hole, stake his claim on the man he loved; but even as sadistic as he could, at times, be, he would never want to see Clark going through that kind of pain. 

"I know what you thought, Clark, but the answer is no. At least for now. If it's something you really want to do, I can run some tests, try some experiments with the refined Kryptonite that's still at the factory…but it'll take time."

"I get it. And, thanks. But, when you're working with the Kryptonite, just, be careful. I really don't want to have to deal with another evil twin incident."

Lex shuddered at the thought. From what he'd been told of the incident where he'd split into two separate Lexs', with two separate and opposite personalities, an evil twin definitely wasn't something he wanted to deal with, either. Especially now that he knew Clark's secrets. 

"I'll be careful, if you'll be patient." Lex smiled when Clark nodded, and kissed him again, deeper this time, wanting to rekindle the flames they'd allowed to sputter down to embers. "Let's try this again, shall we?"

This time, Lex kept control of the kiss, teasing Clark's tongue with his own before retreating to trace along his plush lower lip, and dipping back into his mouth again. 

"You know, I may not be able to fuck you the way you want, but there are still other ways I can make you feel good back there."

Clark's eyes darkened and let out a low moan as his mind provided him with images. Then he remembered their earlier activities.

"Oh, God. Um…maybe I should clean up a little first, if you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting."

"Huh, you know, I actually forgot we're still a little messy from the last round. Guess I should…"

"No, don't. I…" Clark felt his face heat a little with a flush of desire and embarrassment. "I kinda like you a little dirty."

Lex raised an eyebrow, a rush of arousal running down his spine.

"Clark Kent, you're rather kinky, aren't you? Good."

Clark let out a relieved chuckle and rolled them over on the bed, untangling himself from Lex. Speeding into the bathroom, he quickly stripped and washed the necessary areas before zipping back out and on top of Lex before he could even register the shift in position. He definitely registered the sudden lack of clothing, the feel of Clark's warm, bare chest against his making his eyes darken from crystal blue to stormy steel as he clutched Clark back to him. 

"Fuck, that shouldn't be as hot as it is."

Clark flashed him a blinding grin and rolled them again so that Lex was back on top, his denim-covered erection grinding teasingly against Clark's. Lex looked down between them and realized it was the first time he'd gotten to see Clark's cock before it was fully hard. He found himself inexplicably entranced by the way the barest tip of it was peeking out from the foreskin, an opaque drop of fluid beading on the slit. 

Shimmying down Clark's thighs, Lex bent over his groin, smirking through parted lips as he blew over the head of Clark's cock, watching it twitch. Flicking out the very tip of his tongue, he lapped up the drop of pre-come, letting himself savor the small taste. Last night, he'd been in too much of a hurry, too aroused, too stunned that it was actually, finally, happening, to really enjoy the act of blowing Clark Kent. This time he wanted to make Clark beg for him the way he had begged so mindlessly for the younger man. The whimper that fell from Clark's lips was a good start. 

"Patience, Clark. It's barely past noon, and we don't have to leave till six."

"Lex, don't tease."

Shark grin flashed and Lex licked over the head of Clark's cock again, watching with a possessive gleam as the foreskin slowly drew back at his touch. Another slide of tongue brought forth a fresh welling of pre-come that he dutifully cleaned away, continuing the tortuous ministrations until the plump mushroom head of the brunette's cock was fully visible, shiny with his saliva as the thick cock darkened with pooling blood and curved towards Clark's golden, toned abdomen. Sitting up, Lex admired the sight of the ruddy twitching length before finally allowing his gaze to trail up Clark's body. 

The young alien's hands were at his sides, digging into the sheets in an effort not to take control again. The sight of the visible strain in Clark's muscles as he fought back his own urges made Lex impossibly harder, his own aching erection pressing painfully against the zipper of his jeans. Clark was panting softly through parted lips, his eyes dark and glittering with need, like a storm brewing over an ocean. His gaze broke from Lex's and dropped down to his clothed groin, letting out a hungry groan at the way his jeans left absolutely nothing to the imagination as to what state the older man's cock was in.

"God, you're beautiful like this, Clark. So hard for me. Did I look like this last night, when you were teasing me with your dirty talk and your surprisingly detailed fantasy? Did you see me on your bed like this, spread out and needy, aching for more?"

"Yes", Clark croaked out, his voice raw with restraint. He let out a moan of frustration as he bucked his hips into the air. "You were fucking gorgeous like that, Lex. Waiting for me to tell you what I wanted you to do. Please, Lex, show me what it felt like, when I…oh, God…when I ate you out."

Lex growled in victory at getting Clark to beg so prettily, so filthily, this quickly. He'd expected to have to tease the brunette a lot more than this to exact those sweet sounds. He had never thought Clark would be so unabashed about sex. Of course, he'd also never thought that Clark would have received a good dose of sexual education á la Metropolis, either. The two of them were going to have to take a trip to the city sometime this summer, so Lex could see Clark in that unruly environment firsthand. 

Knowing Clark was probably reaching his breaking point, and that he would need to feed the young man sometime soon, he took mercy on him, scooting back on the bed to make room.

"Turn over, Clark. Tuck your knees under you."

Lex watched avidly as Clark complied, eyes trailing down the large expanses of smooth, tanned skin. As Clark folded his knees under himself, his ass raising into the air, Lex couldn't hold back a moan at the sight. 

"Jesus," Lex swore under his breath, his hand stroking up the back of one broad, muscled thigh, over the curve of the firm cheek. "Would it kill you to have just one physical flaw, baby? You're so perfect, it's not fair."

"Lex," Clark let out a whine, his ass pushing back against Lex's hand as it teased closer to the cleft hiding his most intimate part. "Please…"

"Shh, let me admire you." Lex slid his other hand up to match the first on the opposite cheek, pulling against the warm, soft flesh just enough to reveal the dark pink pucker. "Fuck. You know, on second thought, it just might be worth losing my dick just to have this sweet ass clench around it even once."

"Lex, we've settled this. I like your dick in working order, thank you very much. Now," Clark wiggled his hips in an attempt to entice Lex into action, "would you please eat my ass?!"

Lex felt a shudder run down his spine at how unbelievably hot those words sounded coming from Clark's lips. Unable to deny either of them any longer, he leaned down and licked over the furl of muscle. And was nearly bucked backwards off the bed when Clark contorted in pleasure at the fleeting touch with a loud moan, Lex's grip on his impenetrable flesh barely keeping him in place. 

"You really haven't been touched by anyone else here, have you?" Lex's voice was slightly muffled as he breathed the words out against the heated backside, teasing his mouth over trembling flesh. "You okay, baby?"

"Yeah", Clark panted out, struggling not to squirm under the feathery strokes of Lex's mouth. "Just wasn't expecting to be so sensitive there. I usually only feel that much from my own fingers, no matter where I'm touched. I was expecting it to feel less intense. Please, Lex, again."

Wondering if the apparent sensory increase was because of the location and sheer number of nerve endings, or if it was to do with their bond, Lex flicked his tongue out over the clenching hole, prepared this time for the way Clark thrust back against him. Immediately following it with another broad stripe of his tongue, Lex noticed Clark begin to settle, adjusting to the intensity of the sensation. The brunette still rocked back against the lapping appendage, but out of a longing for continuous contact rather than out of shock.

"God, Lex, feels so good. In me…please, Lex,..."

Lex groaned at the sound of Clark's plea, the vibration eliciting a yip of pleasure followed by another whimpered 'in me'. He could feel the puckered muscle loosening as he teased the tip of his tongue around its rim, and he let his eyes fall shut as he threw caution to the wind, unable to resist his need for a deeper taste, not when the beautiful creature beneath him begged for it so needily. He pierced his tongue into the slick passage, stabbing quickly in, aiming where he hoped the nub of nerves would be.

"Oh, God, Leeexxx! Fuck, baby, gonna come! Move!" 

Lex barely had time to pull away before Clark went rigid beneath him, a long, loud, moan and cry of his name accompanying the younger man's climax. No way would he have been able to pull out as quickly if it had been his cock sunk so deep within the tight passage. He wouldn't have wanted to, damn the consequences. 

His own erection throbbed painfully against the trap of denim containing it as he rained soft kisses over planes of slightly sweat-damp skin, easing Clark through his unexpected release. 

"Shh, baby, it's okay. God, it's okay." He slid his hand over Clark's thigh, soothing the trembling limb. "Jesus, Clark, I love how responsive you are. So invulnerable in everything else, yet so humanly reactive to sexual touch."

"Just you…" Clark hiccuped, surprised by the explosive orgasm he had barely been able to hold back long enough to warn Lex. "Only you. It's never been like this. With anyone else."

As Clark caught his breath, he turned over onto his back, pulling Lex on top of him as he shifted away from the wet spot he'd left on the bedding. Lex let himself be maneuvered, the manhandling quickly becoming something he enjoyed; and wasn't that a bit of a revelation? 

"Well, that makes us a little more even, then, Clark."

Clark beamed that sunshine smile of his up at Lex, his hand slipping behind Lex's neck to pull him down into a deep, searching, savoring, kiss. Lex welcomed the exploration, mirroring Clark's aroused groans as their tongues tangled. He could feel Clark's cock against his stomach, the damp length still hard despite having just come, and his own twitched desperately in his jeans, aching for relief.

"Clark," Lex moaned against his mouth, his hand scrabbling at the button of his pants. "God, baby, need you in me. Now."

Clark growled hungrily and broke the kiss, pushing Lex up onto his knees astride his lap. Swatting Lex's hand away from its endeavor, Clark trailed his thumb and forefinger down the sides of the very visible erection, squeezing the shaft through the denim in a tease of a stroke. Lex gasped out a whine of need, his hand raising to drag fingers roughly through Clark's hair.

"Christ, Clark! Guess I'm meeting that bitch called payback, huh?" Clark huffed out a dark chuckle, his fingers repeating their tortuous movements. Lex bucked into his loose grip, but was stilled by his other hand as it wrapped around his hip. "Come on, baby, please. Let me, oh, God, let me get out of these jeans already. Want to ride you, Clark, come on."

That, apparently, was just the right chord to strike. The jeans were gone in a flash, air cool on the heated skin of his cock, and the bottle of lube he kept in the top drawer of his bedside table had been located and placed beside his hand where he braced against the mattress. Clark flashed a grin up at him as he recovered, hands stroking up his sides, thumbs stretching out to brush over hard, pink nipples. 

"Prepare yourself for me, Lex. I wanna see you stretch that tight hole open for my dick, baby."

Lex fisted his cock in a tight grip, breathing deeply through his nose to keep from coming on the spot. 

"God damn, Clark. Do you have any idea how hot you sound when you talk like that?"

"Yeah, I do. And one of these days, I'm going to make you come, just from the sound of my voice. But not today."

Lex dipped his head down for a quick, sloppy kiss, snatching up the lube as he rose back up on his knees. Squeezing out a scant amount of the cool gel on his fingers, he kept his gaze locked with Clark's as he reached behind himself to ease his forefinger into his aching hole. He could still feel traces of Clark's previous release coating his passage, adding to the slickness as he thrust the digit in.

Clark watched Lex's face as he worked himself open, catching the way his eyes widened minutely as he slid a second finger in. His hands roamed restlessly over his pale, smooth chest, feeling the way the lithe body undulated as he fucked himself open. He marveled at how sensually beautiful the older man looked like this, lips parted on silent gasps, hips thrusting back on his own hand, the other gripping at his shoulder for balance. His cock throbbed painfully against his stomach as he watched the wanton display. He let his gaze drift down over Lex's body, his fingers tugging at hardened pink nipples as he watched Lex's cock twitch and spurt an opaque dribble of pre-come. 

"God, Lex, you're so fucking hot like this, fucking yourself…c'mon, baby, need you."

Lex groaned, his fingers speeding to ready himself for Clark's sizable cock. He gave silent thanks that he was still a little loose from their earlier lovemaking, knowing that otherwise, there was no way his own slender fingers would have gotten him nearly open enough for the girth he could feel nudging against the curve of his buttocks. Easing his fingers from his twitching hole, he took up the bottle of lube again, pouring out a generous dollop onto his palm. Kneeling up higher, he watched Clark's face avidly as he reached back and wrapped his hand around the brunette's cock, slicking the shaft while Clark let out a grunt of need.

"Fuck, Lex, now. Ride me, baby."

"What's that one country song say?" Lex angled Clark's cock slightly as he scooted back until he felt the broad head pressing against his loosened hole. Sliding slowly down the thick length, he answered his own question in a breathy moan, "save a horse, oh, fuck yeah, ride a farmboy."

"That's…" Clark chuckle-groaned, eyes rolling back in his head at the exquisite pleasure of Lex's ass sinking down around his aching erection. "That's cowboy, Lex. Jesus, you feel good."

"If you don't want me to ride you hard and put you away wet, maybe don't worry about semantics while your cock is up my ass?" 

A gleam flashed in Clark's eyes as he grinned up at Lex, the older man adjusting to the girth that filled him completely.

"As you wish."

"Oh, you little shit!" Lex's gape of shock and faux-anger turned into a smirk of revenge as he lifted up, nearly pulling off Clark's cock. "I am not Buttercup."

With that, he thrust himself back down, pulling a delicious groan from Clark. Of course, the action also elicited a shuddering gasp from his own lips as the head of Clark's cock brushed against his prostate. 

"Okay, okay…not a princess. I give. Now, please, do that again."

Mollified, Lex leaned forward, bracing himself against Clark's chest, capturing his lips in a deep kiss as he started rocking his hips.

Clark ran his hands over Lex's body, not bothering to try and guide the headstrong billionaire's movements, just luxuriating in the feel of all the smooth, lust-warmed skin available to his perusal, surrendering to the older man's more experienced ministrations. 

"Oh, God, Lex." Clark thrust up as he felt Lex buck down, both young men groaning out as his cock sunk deeper. "Fuck!"

As though sharing each other's thoughts, Clark bent his legs up so that his feet planted firmly against the mattress, just as Lex sat back up, leaning back to brace against strong thighs. Clark forced his eyes open, unsure when they had closed, and moaned at the erotic sight Lex made; legs spread wide to either side of him, head lolling back against his shoulders as his torso arched forward, the sight of his own cock disappearing into the slimmer man warring for his attention with Lex's hardness as it bobbed with each movement.

Lex reached behind him, wrapping his hands around Clark's ankles for leverage as he worked himself on Clark's cock. It was a new angle for him; the few times he had bottom from the top, it had been brusque, jerking himself off as he rode his partner hard and quick, caring more for his own release than the other man's. Now though, every reaction he pulled from Clark was noted, filed away for later use. Every time they had sex was a whole new experience, from last night's utter debauchery to this morning's revelatory lovemaking to this odd combination of the two. Sex had never been about love for him, it had always been about power, about control, satisfaction. But with Clark, love was inseparable from it, love was threaded through every soft caress of those huge hands that could crush solid steel in a heartbeat, every thrust, every moan, every kiss. Clark fed every need Lex never knew he had, to be loved, to be touched, to be seen, well and truly, beyond the power of his name. 

The electric spark of arousal that coursed through him as Clark's cock thrust against his prostate broke him from his musings, drawing a loud, growly moan from his throat. He could feel Clark thickening inside him, knew the younger man was growing close. He bit back a groan of regret that it would soon be over; much as he wanted it to last forever, his own aching cock demanded its own relief.

"God, touch me, Clark. Please!" Forcing his head to lift back up, he watched as Clark complied, one broad palm sliding up the length of his leaking cock, the other reaching up to tug and pinch at a nipple. "Oh, shit! Fuck, yeah, like that, baby. Just like that. Oh, God, Clark, don't stop."

Clark groaned and thrust up into Lex harder, fairly lifting them both off the bed as Lex picked up his pace, riding them both into oblivion. His balls drew up and he strove to hold out, wanting Lex to come first, needing to feel the clenching tightness around his cock. 

"Lex, oh, fuck. So close, baby. C'mon, Lex, ride me hard. Look so good on my cock, baby, taking me so deep…God…tell me you're close."

"I'm right there with you, Clark", Lex moaned out, amazed he was still coherent enough to form words, his orgasm rushing closer with every buck of his hips. He wanted to come now, needed to, but some unseen thing was holding him back. "Oh, God, Clarrrrkkk! Please…"

"That's it, baby. Come for me, Lex. Lemme see you. Oh, Jesus…fuck…now! Come now, Lex!"

And that was it. Something snapped loose within Lex and he felt his release crash into him like a freight train, his hips still thrusting erratically, back and forth between hand and cock. His cock pulsed almost painfully, and he watched with wide eyes as his come jettisoned out, thick ropes of it landing across Clark's chest and neck, one particularly forceful spurt striking across the brunette's lips and cheek. There was a long, loud cry echoing in his ears, and he wasn't surprised to realize it was his. Clark's hips never stopped bucking up to meet his, even as the way grew tighter, his muscles clenching around the thick shaft piercing so deeply. 

"Jesus Christ! Fuck, you're so beautiful when you come, Lex, just…so perfect." Clark worked Lex through his climax, fending off his own until the last drop of tepid seed was wrung from the twitching cock in his hand. "That's it, baby, give me everything."

As Lex began to go limp from the exertion and powerful climax, Clark gripped a hand around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. Lex licked away the come that covered Clark's bottom lip, tongue delving into his mouth to share the taste. 

Clark released Lex's spent cock to wrap his hand tightly around his waist, holding him still as he moaned into his mouth. The taste of Lex's come on his tongue leached away the last of his control, and he held Lex in place as he sped his thrusts almost past human norm, his cock pulsing inside the still-clenched passage, fresh bursts of come joining what remained from before. Lex's hands tangled in his hair, gripping tightly as Clark rode out his climax, releasing so much of himself that he could feel it start to trickle back out, sliding down his shaft and into the thatch of surrounding curls. 

Finally, the last spurts pulsed out, his cock finally softening as he stilled his hips. Lex broke the kiss with a quiet hiss of displeasure as it slipped out, regretting the loss already. He looked down at Clark, both of them panting, and smirked.

"Hey, no floating, this time."

Before Clark could parry the quip, Lex hoisted himself up off of him, stretching out beside him. He leaned over and licked away the smeared trail of come from Clark's cheek, continuing down to his ear when he leaned into the touch with a contented hum. 

"Think I'm ready for the rodeo, stud?"

Clark let out a bark of laughter, arms wrapping around Lex's waist as he rolled them over on the bed, careful not to crush the more vulnerable man beneath his weight. 

"I'll be your bucking bronco any time you want, baby." Clark kissed him soundly. "That was amazing, Lex. You're amazing."

"Only with you, Clark. It's never been like that with anyone else. I…," Lex broke off, trying to word it right in his mind before voicing the swirl of thoughts in his head. "Clark, I've been with so many people, done almost every kink you could think of…but I have never felt the way you make me feel. Nearly a decade of sex, and it has never been that good, that real."

Clark shifted to brace his weight on one hand and stroked his fingers over Lex's sweat-damp face, smiling when his eyelids fluttered at the gentle caress. 

"I love you, Lex."

"I love you, too, Clark." Lex lifted his head to meet Clark's descending mouth in a chaste kiss, feeling the growing bond between them solidifying that much more. "Now. I'm sweaty and leaking all over my very expensive, very nice comforter, and you're going to be itchy if you don't wash that mess off soon. Shower, now, farmboy."

"As you wish."

This time, Lex merely laughed along with Clark at the inference, raising his arms expectedly as Clark clambered off the bed. Clark scooped him up and strode across the room to the adjoining bathroom he had spotted earlier. 

"Yeah, you're not Buttercup," Clark mused sarcastically, looking around the opulent room that sported not only a shower big enough for three, but also a separate claw-foot bathtub, and what looked like a small jacuzzi, along with the toilet and sink. 

As Clark stepped into the shower and set Lex on his feet, keeping hold of him when his legs proved shaky, Lex merely shrugged. 

"If the title comes with unlimited sex from you, and being whisked around everywhere, I think I could get used to being a princess."

~~~~~~~~

@leatafandom

[timeofjuly]

And Four Papyri in a Pear Tree

Chapter 3 - Been An Angel All Year

Summary: Stretch is a mall Santa and you get your photo taken with him.

Notes: The third chapter of And Four Papyri in a Pear Tree, my four-part holiday series focusing on festive-themed dates with Rus, Edge, Stretch, and Papyrus.

Tags: Reader/underswap Papyrus, kinda crack-y, fluff, established relationship.

Read it on AO3 or read it below the cut!

"a playstation and a puppy, got it. i won't make any promises, kid, but if you don't give your parents a hard time, your chances are looking good."

The monster child, wearing a very festive green-and-red striped shirt, nods solemnly. "I'll behave, I promise!"

Stretch taps a white-gloved finger to his skull, just beneath the socket. "i'll hold you to that. now look over there and give the nice person behind the camera a big smile."

From your place in line, you beam like an idiot, then conceal said smile with your hand. You already look like a weirdo - no need to make it worse by grinning like a crazy person at someone's kid.

But this whole situation is in that perfect sweet spot between absurd and endearing and no matter how hard you try, you can't fight the smile off your face. You rock back and forth on the balls of your feet excitedly, fighting the urge to fidget with your sweater.

You don’t rock far, though, because you’re crammed between two families with small children and want to avoid stepping on anyone’s toes.

It’s been like this ever since you got to the mall. It’s crowded, buzzing with activity. You'd driven around for a good ten minutes for a parking spot and had narrowly escaped with your life and front bumper intact after almost stealing a spot from a harried-looking woman in a minivan.

Now that you're inside, it's no better. The stores themselves are full-to-bursting with people doing their gift shopping and where you’re standing, lining up outside the roped-off area that serves as Santa’s Workshop, it’s even busier.

It’s cute, though. You’ll give them that. An elaborate set is constructed in the centre of the large open atrium, complete with fake snow, a red velvet throne, and a towering Christmas tree. Employees dressed as elves usher excited children and weary parents - and you, all by your lonesome - into line, while Stretch, clad in an impressive mall Santa get-up complete with a white beard and hat waits on his throne.

Mariah Carey blares from the speakers, just on this side of too loud. Not loud enough, though, to cover up the din of excited children chattering fills the air, punctuated by the occasional shriek or whine when someone gets stepped on or pushed.

You shuffle forward in line, dodging stray elbows and trying not to trip over any small children. The giant Christmas tree glitters with delicate glass ornaments, and the throne looks plush and luxurious.

As you get close to the front, the bored attendant waves you forward.

“Just you getting photos today?” they ask, raising their brow.

"Yep. That's my boyfriend," you say to them, feeling the urge to explain why you're a whole ass adult getting a solo photo taken with a mall Santa. It’s not weird if you’re dating said mall Santa, right?

"Good for you," the attendant says. They pick at their nails, painted a festive, glittery green.

"Yeah," you say softly, unable to stop your fond smile as you watch Stretch grin lazily at the camera, teeth almost hidden behind the fake beard. The lights flash and the next family are sent on their way. "Good for me."

The attendant makes a gagging noise under their breath, the bell at the top of their elf hat jingling.

You can't find it in yourself to be offended. You've worked customer service during the holidays; you get it. You'd be nauseated by you too.

As the family before you finishes up, the attendant turns to you. "Well, you're up. Three minutes with Santa and then you exit through the left - no clogging up the workshop. I don’t care if he’s your boyfriend, we're running on a tight schedule."

You give the attendant a thumbs-up and enter the little pen the throne, tree, and cameraperson are contained in, giving Stretch a little wave. He looks surprised to see you, browbone twitching under the brim of his hat.

“So,” you say, “how many Jack Skellington references have you heard today?” You’re fighting the urge to make one yourself.

“a few,” Stretch replies, sprawled across Santa’s chair like he owns not only the chair itself, but the entire mall. “tickled my funny bone the first fifty times, but they’re kinda losing their kick. what’re you doing here?”

You grin. “I've gotta get my Christmas wishlist straight to the top and I don't trust the postal service. You should get on that, actually - surely you could do some modernising. Email? FAX?"

"the big guy's more of a pen and paper traditionalist. i, heh, like your sweater."

You pluck said sweater; a woolen blue number, hideously lumpy, embossed with the words 'PUT YOUR BALLS ON ME'. It's patterned with lighter blue circles, but that's the only thing on it that vaguely alludes to anything festive. "You get it, right? Cause it's a --"

"stretch?"

"Yes!" You're so glad - you got some really weird looks in line and would've been heartbroken if it hadn't paid off. "I dug it out of a Goodwill bargain bin especially for you."

“aw, honey, you shouldn’t’ve.”

"Two minutes of holiday cheer left!" the attendant calls, tapping their pointy little elf-shoe covered foot.

You give them another thumbs-up, then turn back to Stretch. "Some operation, huh? I can't believe you're doing this - I know you lost that bet, but I fully thought you'd weasel your way out of it. Not like you to not leave yourself a loophole." He’s had some pretty weird odd-jobs, but mall Santa is out there, even for him.

“what do you mean? i'm having a great time. this is the perfect job for me; i get to sit on my ass all day eating candy canes. no loophole needed. ‘sides, who’s better to qualified than me to tell kids whether they’re naughty or nice?” he says.

“… that’s definitely one way to put it.” If that’s how he wants to use the judge, that's none of your business. It's hard to think of a child actually being deemed naughty by his standards, but then you think of what little you've been told about the resets and the judgement hall and swiftly shove that line of thought right out of your brain and into the not today bin.

By your count, you've got a minute and forty-five seconds left and you're not wasting any of it. Time to get this show on the road.

You plop down onto Stretch's lap, eliciting an "oof" from him as you make yourself comfortable. His hands come up to rest lightly on your waist. The cheap velvet of the Santa suit is scratchy against your legs, but you pay it no mind, focused entirely on your boyfriend's face.

The spirit gum holding on his fake beard is even more noticeable, little flecks of white dried adhesive visible along his jawline. The sheer ridiculousness of it forces a laugh out of you.

“hey, this is serious business. these photos are thirty-five bucks for the complete pack. extra ten if you want them sent to your email too.”

You whistle lowly. “That’s robbery. Highway robbery. What happened to having a generous, giving spirit?”

“what’s christmas if not a capitalist nightmare?” he says.

You cover your snort with your hand. “I hope you’re not telling the kids that.” 

He shrugs. “someone’s gotta. it’s a rough world out there.”

“And they’re smiling for the picture after that?”

“a few jokes and they perk right back up. usually save the best one right when the photo’s about to be snapped. speaking of, what do you call Santa when he's wearing earmuffs?” He covers the sides of his head with his hands, gloved phalanges pressed over his acoustic meatus.

“What?” you ask, fighting a smile. 

“what?” he echoes.

“What do you call him?” you say, a little louder.

He tilts his skull to the side, looking confused. “sorry, what?”

“I said wha- oh, fuck you,” you say, rolling your eyes. You’ve heard about a hundred different plays on that exact joke and have fallen for it about a hundred times. “I get it, hah hah, he can’t hear you. Very funny.”

You can see his shit-eating grin even through the beard. “i know, i’m hilarious. okay, what about this; what does gyftrot have hanging on their antlers?”

“…what?” you say, a little wary.

“horn-aments.”

That punches an uncouth snort out of you. “Poor Gyftrot.” You hope their antlers are free of decorations.

“poor gyftrot,” he agrees. 

“Photo time, guys,” the camera person says. Though wearing the same elf costume, they seem marginally more friendly than the attendant. Good for them. They jingle a bell right above the lens of their camera to draw your attention, the way you might wave a rattle at a baby, or a toy bone at an overly excited dog.

You turn to face the camera, angling your body to show off your sweater. It’s a little awkward, balancing on his boney, felt-covered lap, but you make do with minimal flailing. Stretch shifts too, straightening a little. You wipe an errant bit of spirit gum from his jaw.

“don’t worry, you can use my employee discount for the pictures,” he says. “in the spirit of holiday giving and all.”

“Yeah?” you ask, amused. “And what’s that?”

“one hundred percent off, ‘cause i’ll swipe the sd card at the end of my shift.”

That sounds about right. “Can you get me one of those novelty magnet frames too? I wanna put the picture on the fridge.”

“consider your holiday wish granted.”

“That’s perfect,” the cameraperson says. “On three, I want you to give me a nice big smile.”

You give a camera-ready smile and, as the cameraperson jingles their bell again, drawing your attention, you say to Stretch through your teeth, “Do I get your best joke now?”

“nah,” he whispers in your ear, “but you can jingle my bell anytime you want.”

Your practiced smile blooms into a genuine grin, mouth open around a laugh, and the camera clicks. 

[call-me-a-simp]

Heal My Wounds

At Finn's (Part 23)

Rhea Ripley x Reader

Tw: physical and sexual abuse, toxic relationship, selfharm, eating disorder

Summary: You are in a toxic relationship with an abusive man but manage to run away. A tall, black haired woman picks you up from the streets just in time so your ex doesn't get you. But who is she and why does she seem so familiar to you? As you get to know each other you start to notice weird feelings you never had before whenever she's around.

You wake up to an empty bed next to you. Hm, maybe she's already in the kitchen making breakfast, not that it would be anything new. You think.

But as you walk into the kitchen it's also empty. You search the whole apartment for your girlfriend but she's nowhere to be seen.

Strange, she usually doesn't leave without letting me know. Even if I'm asleep.

You decide to call her but she doesn't respond. You try Dominik's number but again, just the mailbox.

Ugh I hate you guys. You make your way back into the kitchen and prepare a bowl of cereal to eat on the couch.

After you're done, you decide to try Damian's number.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is y/n who am I speaking to?"

"Oh sorry, here's Finn, Damian's not there right now"

"Why d'you have his phone?"

"Funny story, but after we dropped you two off yesterday we decided to stay at my place"

"Hmm okay, is Dom nearby?"

"Nope, also out"

You sigh, "can you come pick me up then? I don't know where everyone is and it kinda makes me a little uncomfortable"

"Sure, give me fifteen minutes" Finn responds and hangs up.

Great, the only one to pick up was Finn. It's better than no one but you two never talked really much so you barely knew him.

You take a quick shower and are about to do your hair when the doorbell rings. You quickly finish your look and open the door for Finn.

"Hey, glad you're here" you say with a relieved smile. "Sure, no problem. Do you want to stay here or come to my place? We could play some video games there to pass time" he shrugs.

"Ye let's do that" you say, put on some shoes and follow him to the car. You get in on the passengers side and it's actually just a ten minute drive.

You arrive at his flat, it's bigger than Rhea's, with a beautiful front garden. You follow him to the door which he holds open for you to step in.

"Get comfy" Finn says and points to, what you suppose is, the living room. "Do you want anything to drink?" "No thanks, I'm good" you reply and shyly smile at him.

"Ok then" he shrugs and leads you over to the couch with a huge flat screen and a playstation in front. "Have you ever played WWE 2k23?" he asks.

"Nope, never heard of it" you shake your head and sit down. "Alright, then you're gonna learn it now" he says and hands you a controller.

You play for a while until you decide to ask him again about Rhea and the others. "Do you really not know where they went? Rhea told me yesterday she would have a surprise for me in the evening"

Finn chuckles "Actually I do know but I'm not allowed to tell you" you huff "How mean" and act like you're offended.

He just laughs and you punch his arm "Hey" he laughs even more. "Ugh you're such an idiot, you know that?" "I'm the only one who can keep promises that why I needed to stay here with you" he shrugs.

"oh boy, okay.. Can I use the restroom real quick? " you randomly throw in. You needed some alone time now. "sure, down the hallway, second door on the right. But you aren't mad at me now, are you?" Finn asks a little concerned.

"no, no its fine I just.. Nevermind" you quickly respond and walk away. You lock the bathroom door behind you and sink to the ground with your back against the door.

You call Rhea again and to your surprise she actually answers this time.

"hey sweetie, what's up? Sorry for just leaving you without saying goodbye"

You can tell by her voice that she really is sorry.

"hey, I don't know, can't quite interpret my feelings right now"

"oh honey I'm so sorry, I really should have told you. How is it with Finn? Everything alright?"

"ye it's okay.. I miss you.."

"i miss you too but I promise my surprise is worth the wait"

Although you can't see her you're sure she smirked while saying that.

"when will you come back?"

"at around seven, but I gotta hang up now, still some things left to do"

"okay, love you, bye"

"byee, love you more"

You lean your head back against the door and smile at her words.

"you okay in there?" you hear Finn knock and ask. "ye I'm fine, be right back" you reply and get up to actually use the toilet before returning.

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

Okay guys, I'm sorry, you gotta wait for part 24 to see the surprise. But I promise it'll be there this time!

Taglist:@babybatlover @legit9thlunaticwarrior @thatonepansexual2000 @nox-fire

[mysticwolfshadows]

Taken - Zutara - Part 17

First / Previous / Next

Aang woke laying on his back. He was tired, groggy from what must have been a long nap. When he opened his eyes, he saw the prettiest girl he had ever seen. She had vibrant blue eyes, which stood out even more when surrounded by dark hair and red clothes. She looked like Water Tribe, but she had an distinct Fire Nation feel about her.

"I..." He starts, only for his voice to crack. "I need to ask you something..."

The girl leans in. "What is it?"

He beams. "Will you go penguin sledding with me?"

She pulls back, blinking at him. Glancing behind her, she looks to an older boy, definitely Water Tribe, and seems confused. When she turns back to him, she frowns. "I... guess?"

Aang, pleased to at least have that, breaths deep and moves the air to push himself up, in one smooth motion. The two step back in surprise as he looks around. "So what's going on here?"

The boy steps forward, a spear held up. He poked him with it. "Don't tell him anything, Katara. You saw that light. It's probably a signal for the Fire Navy!"

The girl - Katara! What a pretty name! - was standing behind the boy, he hands tucked tightly into her sleeves. She had a weird look on her face, seeming almost worried. "Sokka, that light wasn't a Fire Nation flare. And the only Fire Nation ship that comes out this way is-"

Aang doesn't hear the rest. Back in the crator of ice, Appa groans. Scrambling up, Aang joins his buddy, hugging him. The two Watere Tribe members moved forward, staring. He introduced them, happy and cheery. The boy was still suspicious, but Katara was looking increasingly concerned.

"Oh!" Aang said, suddenly remembering he hadn't told her his name yet. "I'm A- ah... Ah... CHOO!" He shot up in the air, a flurry of snow whirling around him. When he came back down, he beamed. "I'm Aang!"

The boy gaped. "You just sneezed! And flew ten feet in the air!"

"Really? It felt higher." He turned to Katara, grinning. That was cool, right?

Only, her face had grown pale and grim, as if she had been expecting that, and it was the worst possible thing. "You're an Airbender..."

She said it like a death sentence.

"Giant light beams," the boy, Sokka, started ranting, "flying bison, airbenders... I must have midnight sun madness. I'm going home, where things still make some sense!"

Only, when the boy turned, there's only water. Aang, seeing an oppurtunity, quickly perks up. "If you need help getting home, Appa and I can give you a lift."

Sokka was vehemently opposed. Katara, on the other hand, seemed resigned.

"It's our only option," she said to the boy, a hand on his arm. Aang hoped they were siblings... "The canoe is gone, and the ice chunks are hard to steer. We can have him drop us off as close to the village as he can without being seen."

Aang wondered why they had to worry about being seen, but was a bit distracted. Katara seemed to not want him around... He hoped he was wrong. Maybe she was just worried what people would say?

They two followed him onto Appa, and Katara moved closer to give him directions. As they went, he tried to ask a few questions about her, but she shifted the topic easily.

"When you drop us off, you have to be careful," she said, sitting stiffly in the sadle. "Rinzo and Taka can't see you. And when you leave, try to stay out of sight. Especially of Fire Nation ships. There should be one close by, and under no circumstances can they see you."

"Why?" Aang asked.

Sokka snorted. "Because she knows I'm right about the jerkbender. He's evil, and there's no way he'll let an Airbender escape."

"That's not it," Katara said, but she seemed a bit uncovinced by her own words. "Zuko just wants to go home. He's still looking for the Avatar."

Panic welled in Aang's chest. Something was wrong. "Why... Why would he be looking for the Avatar?'

"Because the Avatar is the biggest threat to the Fire Nation's war effort," Sokka said, rolling his eyes. "But prince jerk face is chasing a myth."

"War? Myth?"

Katara eyed him. "How long were you in that iceberg, Aang?"

Aang blinked. "I don't know... A few days?"

She took a deep breath. "Aang, if you're the Avatar-" He jerks, about to deny it, but she holds up a hand. "-then I have some bad news. The Fire Nation declared war on the rest of the world, and their first target was the Air Nomads. Under Fire Lord Sozin's orders, they committed a mass genocide. It upset the balance of the world, and they continue to press on." She let that sink in for a moment, before adding, "that was a hundred years ago."

Aang felt a gasp rip itself from his throat. "No! No, that can't be true!"

She shook her head. "The war continues even today. They raided our tribe until I became the last waterbender in the South. Its important that you take this seriously." She paused, pointing toward shore. "Have Appa stop there."

Shaking, Aang pulled the reins. He watched as Sokka and Katara climb out of the saddle, their boots crunching snow. He stared off into the distance, worried he would be sick.

"I'm sorry you had to find out like this," Katara said, voice sincere. "I suggest you get Appa in the air and use the clouds for cover. Head to the North Pole. We've heard that they remain strong, their capital an impenetrable fortress that the Fire Nation has yet to break. They can keep you safe, and you can find a Waterbending Master."

He nodded numbly, gripping the reins. Katara gave him a polite bow, before pulling Sokka along behind her. They whispered to one another in shushed tones.

Aang wondered with Appa, his mind racing, until he found a spot to stop. Katara's words repeated in his mind, over and over. He had never asked to be the Avatar. He had never wanted that responsibility, and had run from it. But in doing so, he seemed to have plunged the world into chaos. He had failed before he even began.

Swollowing thickly, he tried to steel his resolve. Katara was right. He needed to get to the North. He had to make things right.

He spurred Appa, the bison finally taking to the air. A little rest had done him some good after all. As they rose, trying to reach the clouds, Aang saw it. Black snow. He reached out, catching a few flakes and rubbing them between his fingers.

Ash.

His heart lurched. He glanced around, squinting into the distance. Far below, he could see a village, small and not anything like the capital Aang knew should be there. Just to the side, a squad of soldiers were disembarking a metal ship.

"Fire Nation soldiers," he breathed. "So it's true..."

At the front, he could see another soldier reaching forward towards a girl in red that was flanked by two more soldiers.

Katara.

"Appa!" He called, tugging on reins. "We have to go help!"

And with that, Aang dove from the saddle, ready to defend the girl that given him hard truths.

First / Previous / Next

[norcalbruja]

Met another potential anito, and the avengers have assembled for... vengeance?

I do not know what the fuck keeps happening with my attempts to contact other Filipinos, but it's happening again.

My friend's friend who I contacted for spiritual help just seems to keep losing track of me for WEEKS at a time. I've been trying to schedule a consultation and recently asked her if she was busy and I should talk to someone else, but she just said "thank you for being patient with me," so... I don't actually know if she's busy.

I don't want to keep hounding her every week for a CONSULT before I can actually get help, so I asked her now if it's easier to just pay her a bit for the phone consultation, and then I'll pay her more for a proper spiritual session, when we actually figure out what the hell is wrong with me.

So I've been dealing with pest issues in the apartment, and this is REALLY FUCKING ANNOYING, considering my landlords raised the rent when all they did was fix the counters and give the apartment building a shitty boring paint-job to make the outside "look nicer."

--

Meanwhile, Haik Number Four has constantly been remarking on how miserable I am and he's said something a couple of times like, "This is evil, what people have done to you."

So I was like, "Haik, technically nobody's done anything to me. I email or message folks in the art business for help and most people just don't answer. Neither do most of the anito." And he went, "Doing nothing IS evil! You specifically ask people for help, but they can't even tell you 'I'm sorry, but we don't have time!' They leave you floating around for weeks with no answer!"

Meanwhile, Tatay the ancestral spirit says Haik Number Four is just "being dramatic," but... yeah, Haik obviously doesn't agree with that.

But late one night, Tony Stark stepped into my spiritual "room" and he was like, "God, your life is a mess. It shouldn't have taken you ten fucking years to get your art off the ground! Your friends are doing okay, but you're just stuck in a day-job and living with your mom! You're AT LEAST as talented as the Fifty Shades of Grey author who filed the copyrighted parts off her FANFICTION, but you can't even get your own place, or recognition from RICH people!"

So I was like, "Yes, Tony, I know. You helped me with my laptop, at least. I just need... more help, unfortunately."

So he said, "And that's why I'm here, Cyborg. To avenge those ten fucking years."

And I'm just thinking, 'Damn, Tony, that's class-traitor AND Green Goblin talk."

--

So a few days ago, Haik Number 4 brought me to this stone boulder/pillar thing, and it turned into a handsome Filipino guy, Who Calls Himself Dumakulem, the Tagalog mountain-god. His wife Anagolay also showed up and said hello.

Tealdeer, it ended the same way it ends with other spirits who say they want to help, but I'm just tired of hearing it. I don't want to get my hopes up and end up stuck in this same shitty apartment for another three years.

Behind the read-more button for, like... desperate screaming. And Eric Draven being brutally honest about my fears of "dying and THEN having people suddenly pay attention to my work, as if I haven't been begging people to read it constantly while I was alive."

--

So I tried to be polite with Possible-Dumakulem and Possible-Anagolay, but soon they started talking about how my situation is so alarming again.

I knew they were going to say they wanted to "help" or something, so I told them, "NO. DON'T SAY IT. PLEASE. I can tolerate spirits calling themselves the anito, but don't fucking tell me you want to help. Nobody ever does that! They feel bad for me, they say my life sounds boring and unfulfilled, but nothing changes anyway. My heart hurts all the time. I don't want to hear you'll help if you can't ACTUALLY HELP ME. Get me a briefcase full of money, or an art career where I can travel and hang out with people, just--JUST GIVE ME MY OWN FUCKING LIFE! IF YOU WANT TO HELP ME, JUST FUCKING DO IT!!! CHANGE ONE OF THE MANY SHITTY THINGS IN MY LIFE SO I CAN BE A BIT LESS MISERABLE! AND IF YOU CAN'T HELP ME YOURSELF, FIND SOMEONE WHO CAN! PLEASE!!!"

Lola Buwaya was, um... irritated at Possible-Dumakulem and Possible-Anagolay again. But they unfortunately switched to Tagalog, so now I've just got the half-understood gist of Lola ranting. She said something like, "Hayop siya na! Tony Stark heard her before you did! If you won't treat her like a person, don't be upset when she doesn't treat you like gods! You left her with a squid for years, and a sailing-god was the only one to answer her! But now you don't want to hear unkind words?! Do you want her to be a person again?! Then you must act like gods, and give her what she asks!"

Meanwhile, Spirit-Me just devolved into flailing and screaming "LET ME OUT!!! LET ME OUTTTTTTTTTTT!!!! LET ME OUT OF THIS FUCKING HELLHOLE!!!! PLEASE!!!! I SWEAR I'LL PAY YOU BACK IF SOMEONE HELPS ME!!!! JUST LETTTTTTTT MEEEEEEE OUTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!"

As noted with Hera, I've lost my shit and just started "screaming to anyone who's listening" in my meditations before, but I really don't like if that happens in "public," with SPIRITS around (unless they're close spirits, like the Water-Spirit or Dionysus).

Unfortunately, Spirit-Me started coughing up blood again, and THAT was obviously not good.

So various spirits heard Spirit-Me and were trying to calm me down (again), ranging from Dionysus, to Tony Stark, to Tatay.

Eric Draven stepped in and he was like, "You know what I'm thinking about this mess with her people's gods? That it's just an excuse for people to wring their hands. None of you actually want to get off your ass and fucking help her."

And Tatay said, "Naku! The dead man again! And Haik is here--is he not one of the anito?!"

Eric told him, "You really think a squid and a sailing god can help her so much with art? Or buying a house? She's not afraid she's going to die: She's afraid she'll die AND THEN people will finally read her stuff, like she begged them to for years. They'll talk about how much POTENTIAL it had, and 'all the things she could have done,' and they'll pretend she wasn't ready to jump in and do it.

"They'll see her social-media and her blog, where her baking posts get more likes than her art posts, and then they'll feel guilty about never clicking the Share button or leaving a comment. It won't help her OR them at that point. So none of you should bother calming her down anymore. Just let her scream and bleed and wander the forest like an orphaned girl. If you won't help, that's okay--just let her find someone she can pawn her soul off to, or some shit. How much money is a soul worth? "

So the room just went DEAD silent and I think it actually got cold for a bit. Eric Draven doesn't fucking play around with... warnings about a needlessly wasted life???

--

So regarding Lola's rant to Possible-Dumakulem and Possible-Anagolay: 'Hayop ka' is normally a Tagalog insult and literally translates to "you're a beast/wild-animal." It's mostly used for when people aren't acting right. IE, if you're being rude or obnoxious, someone's gonna yell at you, "hayop ka!"

It's often used in tandem with "walang hiya" (shameless / you have no shame) or "walang utang na loob" (no responsibility / you're being ungrateful). In English, it would be something like "were you raised in a barn?!" or "you're running wild / you've turned feral," but as I understand it, 'hayop ka' has a REALLY distinct undertone of 'you have lost your humanity/civilization' as opposed to the English analogs mostly meaning 'you have no manners/respect."

So 'Hayop siya na' means "she's become an animal now," but Lola's basically saying that the anito's lack-of-action/support turned me spiritually "feral," so the unspoken part is "she's become an animal BECAUSE OF YOU." And now she thinks they're just swooping in and thinking/hoping that I have JUST enough humanity left to 'treat them like gods," despite running around for so long with snakes, crocodiles, and giant squid.

Honestly, there has been a constant theme in my spiritual shittiness regarding "what makes you human?" or "how much damage/neglect can a soul take?" and then there's the issues of "well, you're doing the same things that everyone else is. You're literally not doing anything unusual. But since you never got anywhere with it, now people keep thinking you're crazy and talking to yourself (or to 'spirits pretending to be gods'), but the actual issue seems to be that you have incredibly bad luck."

Like, a lot of spirits are consistent about how it should never have taken TEN YEARS for me to get my projects off the ground, because with all the stuff I write about the anito, SOMEONE should have stepped in and helped me out (besides a giant squid who is God-LEVEL in strength, but he can't actually grant wishes), and it's cruel/unnecessary/evil for me to basically keep doing this on my own.

I have a theater script called "Takotsubo: The Story of A Superhero" that I've been trying to get off the ground. It's a deconstruction of the 'superhero' genre that heavily involves "when white people suit up and start taking on criminals, they're heroes, but when Black and Brown people do it, they're gangsters/vigilantes."

Everyone I've asked about it tends to say, "well, this sounds really cool! But it's also gonna be expensive and you're an unpublished writer, so not many people will risk this for you," and I was like... "Well... Guess I have to win the lottery or find a rich comic fan, then?"

I was thinking of converting the script to an actual comic series after I finish it. Because as expensive as relearning how to draw is, or finding an artist to pay for that, drawings don't need fight training or insurance for medical bills.

And like... whenever I look at that group of documents and grumble about how I need to practice drawing again, the spirits are upset that I'm basically thinking of "starting over" and doing this by myself... as I've done with my PROSE works, and we all know that hasn't gone anywhere, either.

[mangoshorthand]

Flesh and Blood- [Five Hargreeves x F Reader]. Ch2 (Hard Feelings Part 3)

SUMMARY: As Christmas approaches, everything between you and Five is perfect...until a destructive temporal anomaly gets in the way. Five is convinced another permutation of himself is to blame. Nothing's simple when you're in a relationship Five Hargreeves: could your loyalties be tested in a way unique to him? Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen

You and Klaus take a rare authorized ride in Five's corvette.

Smut below. Proceed at your own...blah blah.

Chapter Two: Tiramisu

Preoccupied as Five was, (dividing his time between staring down the street and scribbling on your bedroom-wall dry erase), he kept looking down at you with concern. This morning’s headache was a bad one and now you're suffering from dizziness too. He blinked away and back again with water and pain relief in his hands. 

Now, he frowns down at you as you swallow the pills.

“Did you get an appointment?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, “Two-thirty.”

You'd finally admitted to yourself that this needed checking out. Ever since your stay in hospital following your encounter with Michael Monroe, you'd been resistant to put yourself back into a medical setting: all the grueling physio and tweaking of dosages. But now, you couldn't deny it any longer.

Regular headaches might be nothing but they were also the first symptom Santi's friend Alyssa had suffered before she was diagnosed with a deadly brain tumor. 

Five's frown deepened as he stared with seeming absence at his latest lines of mathematics.

“I want to drive you but I need to stay here and wait for me to turn up. Of course I’d keep me waiting.”

He tapped his foot impatiently, glancing out of the window as if hoping to see a version of himself strolling down the alley.

“It's fine," you say, "I can get a cab.”

“No. Give me a few minutes.”

***

Klaus was the only other person in the house, and Five had searched high and low before resorting to asking him to drive you. But Klaus agreed with alacrity, promising that he was sober (enough). Five had even been persuaded to give Klaus the keys to his Corvette, though with clear misgivings.

Now, you stand at the double doors of the medical center numbly. You can see Klaus waiting in the car, twenty feet away. It was a short but…productive appointment. You screw up all your fortitude to meet Klaus’s scrutiny, you worry he'll discern that something’s wrong within a minute of you getting into the car. You have to hide the diagnosis from him. It won’t be easy, especially if some ghost has been following you and screams it out to him.

And then, a clap of thunder from a cloudless winter sky.

Your body and clothing seem to ripple along with the force that passes them. Another swirling, rushing noise. A flash of bluish light and energy that flexes like perspex. Another temporal anomaly crashes into being on the other side of the parking lot.

Automatically, you flinch away and back up a few steps. You can feel the force of it, pulling at you like the sensation of water down a plughole. Klaus leaps out of the car and runs to your side, but now you don’t notice him, because you’re running at full pelt towards the portal, shouting as loud as you can.

“Five? Five, is that you? Please! We need to talk to you!”

Klaus catches up and pulls you back as the minivan nearest to you lifts off its wheels and becomes wedged in the sucking void, crushing as if in a compactor, its security alarm blaring uselessly. Cracking, smashing glass and crunching metal are all absorbed; contracting inexorably with the force of the anomaly.

“Five!”

And then it closes, swallowing the car along with it.

“Five?”

There’s nobody there, nobody behind where the void was. You run to the other end of the parking lot, but it’s empty, fenced off. If he was there, then he’s blinked away.

“You ASSHOLE!”

Klaus is at your shoulder, staring at the point the car disappeared.

"Oh my God."

And then he starts to giggle madly, helplessly:

"Can you imagine if that was the Corvette? Five would never get over it."

***

Back in your bedroom. He's pacing again, shooting out questions like a high-precision rifle.

“Did it feel the same?”

“Yeah: like a ripple or a sink emptying.”

He turns to Klaus: “And you?”

“It tickled a little but I was further away,” answers Klaus.

“And you saw nobody?”

“It was an empty parking lot, Fievel Mousekewitz.”

Five huffs.

“I must have blinked. So, what was I doing there? I gotta be following you.” 

He turns his eyes to you again, regarding you as if you were a half-phrased equation.  His hands spring to his pockets and he leans further towards you, eyes narrowing and forehead contracting. 

“Portals appear beside you…twice? It can’t be a coincidence. So what the hell am I trying to do? Am I trying to get to you and failing? But why not just get a briefcase?”

As Five begins to pace again, you turn to Klaus.

 "Do you mind if Five and I speak in private?"

He looks a question at you but your face makes him acquiesce; the little bit of telepathy you share with Klaus communicates your need succinctly. He nods and retreats without even a sarcastic comment. When you hear him heading down the attic stairs, you take a deep, steadying breath.

“If that’s what’s happening, I think I might know why.”

Five’s pacing ceases, his head tilts and all the manic energy concentrates in his eyes.

“I’m fifteen weeks pregnant.”

For a moment, he does nothing, it’s like it doesn’t register. And then, his hand flies to straighten his tie. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but words don’t come so he smooths the back of his hair instead. After mouthing for a few seconds, his eyebrows contract.

“F-fifteen weeks?” His hand now massages the back of his neck, “How?”

You refrain from the obvious answer: Well Five, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much and their contraception failed fifteen weeks ago…

“I’ve bled like normal until this month. It's been light, but…”

He sits down on the bed, staring at the floor between his legs.

“Pregnant?”

He says it as if he’s never heard the word before. You sit down on the chair.

“The headaches and the dizziness. They were symptoms.”

His head goes into his hands and he closes his eyes. You don’t know what he’s thinking or why, you just know he’s thinking. You don’t blame him, your mind is still turning it over uncomprehendingly and you’ve known for an hour longer than he has.

He looks up at you, a hand on each of his cheeks.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Me neither.”

“We made a baby?” it’s as if he wasn’t aware of it as a possibility- as if a pie he’d put in the oven has come out as a perfectly chilled tiramisu. He breathes out shakily.

“Yeah," you say, "…if we want to see it that way.”

He mouths for a second and then stands slowly. His eyes dart to your abdomen and then back up to your face. He blinks away.

You stand up abruptly. No. He doesn’t get to do this. You can’t blink away from this so he doesn’t get to either

“FIVE HARGREEVES!” you scream, “GET YOUR ASS BACK- …oh.”

He's already blinked back, carrying a small bag.

“Sorry," he says, "Sorry. Um…” 

You can see him wanting to pace. He’s biting his lip and his forehead juts towards you. He closes his eyes and the words come rushing out in one stream, tripping over each other.

“Would you, d-do you...do you want?...because I..."

He breathes, opens his eyes and fixes them on yours. You can tell he’s trying hard for his usual collectedness, within the green are depths of vulnerability he’s fighting not to show. He takes your hand and tries again: 

“Would you want to raise a baby with me? With me?”

You grasp his meaning. A lot of unsaid things pass between you at this moment. He's harsh, faltering at times, imperfect; still evolving. Yes, he is all these things, but he listens and he learns. You rest your forehead on his.

“I think I do,” you breathe.

“This baby?” his voice falters, as his eyes flick down to your stomach. The last syllable turns out no more than a whisper.

You nod, feeling tears coming into your eyes.

He gives a single ‘ha’ of laughter or incredulity that’s all but an outward breath. He smiles and squeezes your hand, and you feel yourself laugh a little in return. He breaks contact with your forehead only to kiss it shakily before letting go of your hand. He steps back and begins to fumble in the bag, trying for an unruffled, business-like demeanor. “Good. So that makes this next part a little easier. I would have still done it but now it's…anyway, I bought this when we were shopping yesterday and- shit!” 

He drops the bag and bends to get it. He makes as if to straighten up, but then seems to think better of it. Instead, he lowers himself further to one knee.

“Five?”

He looks up, his side swept hair falling over his brow. “You once told me that you might think about getting married. Would you think about it with me?”

He reaches into the bag and pulls out a small box which he opens to show you: two pear cut rubies flank a natural pearl in a vintage setting; the band itself is plain gold. He looks down at it in his hand and then back up at you.

“I thought you wouldn’t want a diamond, so…” he trails off  before a different idea rushes from his mouth, “We could wait as long as you want. Years, if you like…if we have years left, what with…” he jerks his head at the calculation-covered walls, “And you don’t have to decide now, you can-”

“Five.”

He shuts up.

“Okay,” you smile in confirmation of the word, “Yes. Not now. Maybe not for a while-”

He cuts you off with a sudden kiss, leaping from the floor in a split second. It’s clumsy but sweet. He’s torn in several directions by a multiplicity of feeling that doesn’t allow him to be anything but sincere. Fear and joy commingle so as to make him uncontrolled. One moment, his lips smile against yours, the next, he holds you to him fiercely. 

The kiss becomes a desperate thing all its own, him unable to decide whether to keep his mouth on yours or on your body. He backs you into one of the bookcases, ignoring the heavy encyclopedia that hits him on the shoulder as it falls. He’s grinding against you, his wet, wild caresses intensifying.

At last, he comes up for air and steps back a little, allowing you to step away from the bookcase. He takes the ring out of its box and takes your left hand gently. You allow him to slip it on. He looks at it for a moment and then back at you.

“Sorry, I guess I got carried away there.”

You raise your eyebrows and lean towards him again, so that your lips skim his throat. You breathe him in- the natural scent combined with mint-camphor cologne that makes your stomach flip.

“I'm not complaining.” you whisper, huskily. 

Five lets out a breath that’s almost a moan, the vibrations of your voice against his skin are making all the hairs on his neck stand straight up.

His forward steps impel you backwards, where your legs hit the bedstead unexpectedly. He loses his balance, sending you tumbling beneath him. He manages to stop himself before he puts his whole weight on you.

“Are you ok?” he asks, putting a protective hand on your stomach.

You pull him down onto you and kiss him just as fiercely as he did you, drawing from him a little “Mmmph!” of surprise. Soon, he regains part of his composure and straddles you, taking your hand. You grin as he draws it to his lips and kisses the ring. 

When he lets you go, you use the hand to rub his chest, thumb grazing where his nipples hide under the double layer of material. He responds by stripping off his jacket, waistcoat and tie.

“Why do I wear this shit?” he mutters. 

His shaking hands wrestle with his tie knot, casting it away from him once it’s removed like it’s on fire. When it’s at last discarded and his shirt is undone, he gets off you to allow you both to undress.  

“You don’t know how much I need this,” (he’s breathing through his teeth now,) “I want to make you feel good and forget everything else. Just concentrate on you.”

When he’s stripped to his underwear, he kneels next to the bed, grabs your hips and pulls you to him. When he begins to lick you, your body melts into the bedsheets. He doesn’t often do this -his fingers are too well practiced at getting you there- but on these occasions he’s enthusiastic to a fault. His problem is he enjoys it too much.

To begin with, he tries to tease you like he does with his fingers, but by the time he’s got your clit into a nice rhythm, he’s tasted too much of you and can’t help himself. The more turned on it makes him, the clumsier he gets. It’s hot in its own way, seeing him absolutely lose himself with his face buried in your pussy, like he’s trying to drink your juices. When he moans into you, the sound's vibration gives your clit a pleasant little sting. From the movement of his arm, you can tell his right hand is gently beating himself off below the level of the bed.

“Slow down.”

You gently grab a fistful of his ever-more untidy hair and urge him upwards. He looks up at you, eyes clouded with lust, just wanting to put his face back in there.

“Control yourself down there. I want you to get me off with your tongue.”

“Yes ma’am.” he winks. Even when doing a patchy job of cunnilingus he manages to look cocky.

He parts your labia with two fingers and gives a few long, tongue-tip licks down the entire length, stopping to dip his tongue where the wetness pools at your entrance. He makes eye-contact as he moves his tongue back up. He lets the tip slip in a circle around your clit before changing the movement to a regular, pulsing flick.

“That’s it Daddy,” you breathe, raising your hips to meet his tongue, “keep going like that.”

He gives your clit a cheeky side to side wiggle before briefly surfacing.

“Might wanna lay off the ‘daddy’ stuff for a while.”

Your laugh turns into an ‘ahhh!’ as he returns his face to you, sucking gently and rhythmically at your swollen clit. As your moans intensify, so do his. In his arousal, he becomes sloppy again. “Dammit Five!”

“Then stop-" he slides his tongue inside your vagina, "-tasting-" he sucks hungrily at the come at your entrance "-this good."

He surfaces and licks his own lips, eyes heated. 

You feel like a tightly wound violin string, resonating from his contact. He smirks and returns his mouth to your clit. He's regained control and works quickly, bringing two fingers inside you to aid him.

"Come for me, darling. Cover my face in come." 

The movement of his lips as he forms the words around your swollen clit is maddening. You feel your muscles tighten more. His newly controlled suckling and tongue pulsing finally gets you there.

You come long and noisily, him valiantly keeping up with his tongue until your body relaxes. You lie there, breathing hard for a few moments, coming down from the orgasm. 

You make to sit up, but his hand on your chest pushes you back down.

“I’m not done,” he growls.

He climbs onto the bed, forces a pillow between his legs and his head back between yours. He starts to hump at the pillow as he buries his face between your labia, covering his entire face with the evidence of your orgasm. He mouths you deeply, like he's taking 'eating you out' a little too literally. More than the pillow will need a comprehensive wash after this adventure.

You watch him rock, dragging his hips over the pillow, his toned, perfectly round ass tensing and untensing. He moans into you and speeds up his hips, his knees struggling to get purchase on the bedsheets. He's desperate to come and seeing him do this, totally unabashed, is one of the hottest sights you've seen from him, (and there have been many contenders). Every so often, he turns to the side and fucks his fist for a while before returning to the pillow. 

From a forward and backwards movement, his hips wiggle side to side and then into a figure eight. The new motion excites him, and his moans become more intense, sending aching vibrations onto your clit.

Finally, when his humps become desperate and the friction not enough, he turns to the side again, grabs his cock by the base and milks himself, his come-covered face finally surfacing as he breathes jaggedly. He finishes on his abdominal muscles, his seed spilling out of him in spurting stream after stream. Now he’s covered in come from both of you, his face and abdomen glistening.

He relaxes onto his back, letting his heavy breathing return to normal. Eventually, he wipes his mouth and smooths his hair. 

“Well fuck, that felt good,” he says, matter-of-factly.

***

In the dead of night, he wakes you with a strangled screaming gasp, shielding his eyes in the crook of one arm. You're so used to this now that you barely even startle. You pull him, hyperventilating, to your breast. This routine isn't formal, but it's developed over the year you’ve shared his bed. 

"It's ok. It's just a dream. Just a nightmare."

You feel him shaking against your neck, trying to slow his breathing.

"You're safe. You're home. It's okay."

His pulse skitters under your fingers. His breathing doesn't slow. 

You rock him a little.

"Breathe with me, okay? Inhale, two, three four; hold, two, three, four; out, two, three, four, five, six."

You repeat the chant over and over. At first, he can't follow but slowly, tremulously, he does. After fifteen full cycles, his inhales get less shaky. When you reach twenty, he can do it properly. 

"You okay?"

He carries on by himself for another cycle or two before he’s ready to speak.

"Better. Thank you.” and then, vulnerable: “I love you.”

"I love you too,” you kiss his clammy forehead, holding your lips to him for a few seconds in acknowledgment of his tone.

“Was it the same dream as always?"

He nods, eyes closed.

“The fires just kept burning. Months.”

“I know.”

He repositions himself so now you’re holding each other rather than him in your arms. He buries his face in your hair and kisses where his lips touch. You think he’s asleep again until you hear him whisper out of the dark:

“I don’t know how to be a dad.”

You squeeze him tighter.

“I don’t know how to be a mom,” you mumble, "You’re a great uncle, so why wouldn’t you be a great dad?”

“Yeah, I’ll just teach the little one eugenics 101, shall I?”

“You need to stop beating yourself up. You fucked up once in Santi’s entire life and you did it trying to help him. Trust yourself.”

“How can I trust myself when there’s some version of me out there doing God-knows-what with nonsense calculations? All of this... it's a lot to take in.”

He rolls onto his back, still holding you, and staring up at the ceiling through the darkness.

“Are you having second thoughts?”

You feel him scrub at his forehead with one palm,

“No...I don't know. I always feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop: for the next danger to come. If anything happened to either of you...can I risk my kid getting wrapped up in all my shit?"

You lay your head on him. This has been nagging at you too.

"But...is that worse than no kid? Now it's actually happened? I don't think I want to stop being pregnant."

He sighs and buries his face in your hair.

"I don't want that either. I guess I'll just have to face whatever comes."

"We'll face it, Five. Together."

You feel him smile against your head. You don't have to see him to know which: it's his fond smile, the one he wears when he muses over you. Though you don't know it, it's the smile he wears when he can't quite believe his luck to have met you. 

"You're right: partners."

He kisses your head briefly before continuing:

"I guess I'm also just realizing how unprepared I am. I’ll have a lot to offer if our kid ever needs to live off cockroaches and develop a loving relationship with a mannequin, but otherwise…I got no idea.”

“You’ll learn.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, “but the only Dad I ever knew wasn’t exactly the type to play ball and kiss me goodnight.”

“And my Mom's a crazy bitch. We just have to start by taking everything they did and doing the opposite.”

“So you’re saying don’t teach them how to break someone’s neck before I teach them how to ride a bike?”

“Yeah- good fathering instincts!”

 He laughs darkly. You can tell he’s still worried

“Diego does fine.”

“I’m not Diego.”

You’re not sure whether Five considers this a compliment to Diego or not.

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed.) @dilfjohhny , @sunsunhe, @w4stedtr4sh, @nevbrooke-555, @theredvelvetbitch, @td-miley01, @five-hxrgreeves

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