#absolute struggle to reset my pin. never again

[39mice]

finally back on my laptop so more crea blogs coming soon

[mrs-march-ahs]

Hey beautiful!! If you have the time/ inspo could you pls do a full Kit fic based on that nipple clamp scenario you described?? It would be greatly appreciated but no pressure if you cant! Thanks and love you!!

Mr Walker’s Treat, Your Punishment

Yes queen, I’m sorry it’s been literally 6 years since you sent this request, I hope you love it. I chose to use clothes pins instead of nipple clamps, and decided against a daddy kink since y’all brought up a lot of good points. Mr Walker is it.

Summary- After losing a bet with Kit, his dark kinky side comes out and he punishes you with the one thing he’s dreamt of since the day he met you.

Words- 2k. I’ve been writing too many headcannons, need to stop being lazy and start writing longer fics for y’all😤

Another request that was a similar was- “Hi! I don’t really know how to work tumblr so if this is bad or something, sorry but can i get a smut about Kit Walker having a boob kink? I loved your Kai one with the mommy kink and all that but if you don’t wanna write it ofc you don’t have to. thanks <3″, I hope you’re here! I hope you enjoy! 

No cap this might be the hottest thing I’ve written, enjoy! 🥵

--

“This isn’t like you, I kind of like it”, you giggle, as Kit ties your hands to the bed frame with the only two ties he has. He smiles down at you, straddling your stomach, fumbling with the ties before he finishes, and looks around the room.

“Hm?”, you ask.

“I need something to cover your eyes”, he says, before getting off the bed and looking at the pile of dirty clothes by the wall.

“Ooo, kinky”, you can’t help but giggle at how unusual it was for Kit to be this adventurous. Not only a few days ago did he propose a 69, but he also was willing to make it a game. Whoever came first lost, and the winner could do whatever they pleased with the loser. The second the proposal left your lips, a certain dominant twinkle sparkled in his eye and activated the horny young man he had inside of him. You pulled out all the tricks you had, but no matter how deep you took him in your mouth, and how much you choked on him trying to make him let go, nothing seemed to work. He was so focused on slurping you up and licking you raw that he barely realised your mouth was on him. All he had in his mind was the sight of you, tied up, and your kitchen timer set for him to do with you as he pleases.

You could’ve never expected what was to come, since Kit never showed a particular interest in anything kinky. But your body was ready to be at his mercy.

“How about these?”, Kit asks holding up a pair of dirty underwear to cover your eyes with. You scrunch up your nose in disgust and shake your head.

“Absolutely not, do you not have any more ties?”. Kit throws the pants back on the dirty pile and takes some sweatpants out of his drawer.

“How fancy do you think I am, doll?”

You chuckle at the way his accent proved his point, before looking up at him in awe when he returned to his position on your crotch. He shuffled around as he straddled you, before putting the legs of the sweatpants around your eyes, poking his tongue out slightly as he tries to tie a knot. After a minute of struggling, Kit becomes impatient and takes the makeshift knot off your face, and puts your face inside of the pants where his butt would go, making you both laugh at how unsexy your homemade blindfold is.

“Hey, it works”, Kit laughs before reaching over to the kitchen timer on your bedside table. He twists it to an hour and sets it down, then proceeds to get off you and leave the room. You wriggle around the bed as you hear Kit walk out.

“Is this what you wanted? To tie me up and leave me for an hour?”, you whine loudly so Kit can hear. He collects his desired (and prepared earlier) items before shouting back to you from the kitchen, “More whining like that and I’ll leave my naughty girl tied up for two”.

You become visibly aroused at the new dirty nickname and bite your lip at what Kit has in store for you. Just as your mind is about to wander to the filthy things you ache for, Kit comes back and puts, what sounds like quite a few, things on the bedstand.

He kneels at the end of the bed and crawls over to you slowly, admiring the sight of you bare chested and rubbing his body against yours. He presses his lips to your neck and kisses you slowly, the quiet sounds right against your ear making you open your mouth. Admittedly, not being able to see heightens the pleasure, and makes even the simple activity of being kissed down to your chest even more erotic than before. You’re both very touchy and affectionate to one another, so you quickly feel the effects of being tied to the bed, when you tug slightly against your restrains wanting to run your fingers through Kit’s hair as he softly sucks on your collarbone. Kit closes his eyes and breathes against your skin as he moves down to attach his lips to the sensitive skin around your nipple, teasing you before he gets to it. He uses his other hand to wrap around your other boob, not wanting to waste a minute of the hour he has with your girls. You rub your thighs together slightly, aroused from the feeling of Kit’s mouth inching closer to nipple, but Kit stops you when he presses down, putting his body weight on you, only propping himself up on his elbows to be face level with your naked chest. The extra restrain of not being able to move frustrates you; Kit’s chest pressed down on your still clothed crotch stops you from creating any friction.

Kit never makes it to your nipple, after kissing around it for the longest minute of your life, he grazes his lips against it, before sitting up slightly and reaching over to the bedstand. The teasing lack of contact makes you huff.

“Don’t be impatient, you lost, deal with the consequences”, Kit says, now completely sat up fumbling with something in his hands, squishing your lower torso, stopping you from moving.

“Yes, Mr Walker”, you mockingly say like a child. But the term of endearment shows you respect Kit’s new dominant authority, and he swallows it up.

“Mr Walka’s got you, just sit back and relax”. Kit flicks open a cap and drizzles some liquid on your chest, making you gasp. He shushes you softly, and puts his large hand on the edge of your boob, to ensure it doesn’t drip down to the mattress. He places the bottle down and runs his fingers around in the pool of cool oil and slides them around your tits, soaking in the sight of the trails he leaves glistening. He purposely still avoids your nipples, instead circling his fingers around them. Even when he finally places his hands on either breast, kneading them and rubbing in the oil into them, though distracted by the gorgeous sight, he doesn’t give attention to the one place you yearn for it most.  

“Please…”

“Please what?”. You open your eyes under the cover, not even realising when a whimpering please left your lips. Although you wanted Kit to do anything he wanted to you, your body was tingling and tired of being teased.

“Touch them, Mr Walker”

Kit smiles at your eagerness and how easy it is for him to dominate you and have you begging, and holds back from the urge to rip your clothes off now and pound you into oblivion, knowing that if he can have you begging already, there’s more to come. He cups your tits and rubs his thumb over your hard nipples. The slightest touch makes you bite your lip, feeling overwhelmed by how such simple affection can send a rush of arousal through your whole body, making you resist the need to arch your back.

Unexpectedly, Kit takes his hands off your chest and takes a few seconds to look at them, making you even needier than before. He flicks your right nipple with his finger, making you flinch at the feeling. The minimal pain it brings subsides quickly, but the lingering touch stays and is only reset when Kit does it again, and again, and again. He takes it in turns to flick each nipple, biting his lip hard at the sight of you flinching every single time. When he stops and puts his hands on his thighs, you relax your body, savouring the slight sting from the consistent flicking.

Kit puts his hands above your shoulders and leans down, not touching you but admiring how pink your nipples turn, satisfied knowing that they will be sensitive and ready for the next activity planned. Kit leans over to the night stand, and messes around with the multiple things he has, leaving you motionless and completely submissive to whatever else he wants to do to you.

Kit sits back up and clears his throat, making you nervous slightly. He cups one boob, and you feel a sudden harsh squeeze on your nipple, making you wince. He takes it off and puts it on further, the uncomfortable nipping turning into a constant pinching of your nipple. The sensation feels weirdly sexual, and leaves you holding back a moan at first, but letting it out when Kit puts a clothes peg on the other nipple, too. Though the sight of you being used is enough for Kit’s bulge to protrude through his white underwear, desperate for attention, Kit’s intention is only to tease you, not to hurt you.

“Is this okay?”, Kit says awkwardly. You can hear the quick slurp Kit has to do as whatever is filling his mouth almost escapes.

“It’s… amazing”, you breathe out.

“Who woulda thought you’d be so naughty, hm?”. You furrow your eyebrows at what he could possibly be eating right now, but quickly melt under the weight of his lewd description of you.

Kit steps off you and stands up, chuckling darkly at the helpless view of you trying not to wriggle from the intense feeling at your sensitive buds. He takes off his shirt and drops it by the bed, not being able to rip his eyes off you laying there, wondering what he’s doing and when he’ll be back and close to you again. He slides his underwear off as silently as he can, before stepping closer to the bed, his hand wandering to his crotch, stroking himself looking at you.

When he kneels back on the bed and flicks the clothes peg, you whimper out at the endurance needed to take the uncomfortable pinch for so long. Kit moans quietly at you whimpering, before quickly slapping away the clothes peg, letting them rip off your nipples and fly across the room. You hiss at the painful turnout, making Kit instantly soothe your pain with an ice cube he holds to your nipple. You cry out at the action, and Kit smiles, before latching his mouth to your other nipple, settling the pain he induced with his freezing cold mouth and lips, swirling his tongue around your pink nipple. Tears escape your eyes at the unexpected pleasure, and a shiver breaks through your body when the ice cube between Kit’s warm fingers begins to melt and run down your side, giving you goosebumps.

Your breaths become hitched as swaps his hands and mouth, softly suckling on you with his cold lips, humming at the way you moan when he suckles harder. Your thighs can barely stay still on the mattress, moving around hoping to feel something and release the pool of pressure you feel between them. But Mr Walker doesn’t accept that, immediately sliding his hand between your legs and squeezing your inner thigh, not letting them touch and not giving you any more release than necessary. You completely let go and quickly become a whimpering and moaning mess when his hands and mouth work wonders on your body, squeezing and licking everywhere but where you need it.

“Mr Walker”, you whimper out, not being able to handle the punishment any longer.

Kit rubs his fingers against your freezing nipple as the last of the ice melts away, and removes his mouth off you with a sucking pop. He slides the sweatpants off your face, revealing the tears filling your eyes and running down your cheek. Alarm bells ring in Kit’s mind and he leans down close to you and wipes your tears away.

“I’m so sorry doll, did I go to hard on you? You shoulda said something”

“No, Kit, I need more… please”

Kit smirks at you begging once again, but sits up cockily and looks down at you.

“Sorry darling, but this was your punishment, you lost, remember? Besides…”

Kit stops in his sentence and you furrow your eyebrow in question, before, as if on cue, the kitchen timer dings.

“Sorry doll, we’re outta time”

You whine in annoyance and look up at Kit, who stands up and twists the timer again. He sets it back down before walking towards the bedroom door to exit.

“Are you not even gonna untie me?”, you whine loudly. Kit stands in the door frame with his hand on the door handle, ready to leave.

“Why? So, you can touch yourself the second you’re free? I told ya darling, if you’re whiny and naughty, imma just leave you here”

You look up at Kit in disbelief before pulling at the secure ties on your hands.

“Have fun”, Kit says, before winking at you and leaving.

━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━

@milly-louise  @amourtentiaa  @kitwalker02  @tatestripedsweater  @therenlover  @maria-akira         @tatesimper  @sallyscigarettes  @mossybank  @ahsxual  @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess  @mrs-march-ahs-biggest-fan  @kitwalkerangel  @kitisagoldenretrieverboy @darlingkitt  @blackbat2020   @undeadcortez @whiiiiplaaaaash @kaismessiahbb @elaineygrace @divinerulerluvr

[minniemixe]

Beauty And The Beast

Gangster AU

Stray Kids Fanfic

Chan x Reader

Other Appearances: GOT7 BTS

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Violence, Mentions of stabbing

Beauty and the Beast Masterlist

Chapter 3

Moon screamed in shock and pain as she gasped for air, falling on her side, her vision blurred as she tried to sit up. “Yah! stop overreacting, I know what I’m doing, it’s not severe” but before his sentence finished, Moon had already fainted. Kneeling down next to her, he shook her body, assuming she was bluffing. “Hey, wake up” but to no avail, inspecting her wound, he saw no signs of a serious injury, his knife wasn’t that big, so the cut couldn’t be too deep nor was there excessive blood loss, which confused him as to why the girl fainted. He picked her up and sprinted out of the gym. Carrying her towards the infirmary, he stopped midway thinking to himself about how he was going to explain the situation, and there was no way that the leader wouldn’t find out about this, which worried him even more. Looking at the unconscious figure in his arms, he knew he messed up real bad.

To his dismay, when he opened the door to the infirmary, the leader was inside, joking around with Anna, “She’s not dead” he spoke before either of them could question him. 

“How did this happen?” CB inquired 

“Long story” HH answered putting Moon on the bed

Anna started working on the wound as the two boys engaged in the conversation.

“The wound isn’t very deep, was there too much blood loss?” the brown haired girl asked, interpreting the two boys 

“No, that’s the confusing part, why did she faint?” HH spoke

��Probably from the shock” CB stated 

“I’ll still need blood samples, something doesn’t seem right. She once came to me for painkillers after training with Changbin, saying she had a headache and was feeling dizzy, I shrugged it off thinking it might be because of hunger or low blood sugar since I have that all the time. But her fainting like this, I think it might be something else. Chan could you hand me that kit” Anna explained pointing towards the said kit  

“Hwang stabbing her was a little too much man” Chan spoke, handing Anna the kit

“Oh and IV drip as well from that cupboard”

“Yeah yeah, I know, I admit this was my fault, but it was kinda accidental” he defended himself

“Hyunjin dear, there is no such thing as kinda accidental, you either stabbed her or it was an absolute accident, please choose one” Anna sarcastically spoke while attaching the canola to Moon’s arm

“Well I meant to make a small cut but my hand slipped and I ended up stabbing her, but before I could even say anything, she just screams one second and is out cold the next” he explained 

“She’s a feisty one, you should sleep with your eyes open, she’ll definitely get you back for this” Chan laughed

“You se-” Hyunjin was cut off as Woo and El entered the infirmary

“I need the pill” El told Anna 

“You know Woojin, it wouldn’t kill you to get a condom.” Chan told the older 

“Nah that’s too much work” El replied popping the pill in her mouth 

“It’s literally just rolling it on, how is that too much work” Hyunjin questioned

“TMI bro!!!” Anna shouted  

“Alright that’s enough” Woojin spoke 

“What happened to her?” El asked looking towards Moon’s unconscious figure

Anna lifted the blanket from the side to show her the stitches. “Could you let the girl be???? Don’t you think stabbing her was a little too much” El said samacking Hyunjin across the head

“Owww!!!” 

“Woojin could you please get this blood tested?” Anna asked, handing him the blood sample

“Yeah sure” he took the blood and left the infirmary

“How long do you think she’ll be out?” Hyunjin asked 

“I’m not su-” Anna got cut off hearing a groan coming from behind them, the three turned around to see Moon sitting up on the bed. The moment she spotted Hyunjin she threw the sheets off her and leaped at him “I’M GOING TO KILL YOU” she shouted, before Moon could touch him, Chan casually grabbed her waist and bought her flush against his chest, stopping her from hurting Hyunjin or herself. However Moon wasn’t having any of it as she struggled against his hold trying to get to Hyunjin. “Calm down princess, you don’t want to open your wound”. Moon’s heartbeat increased hearing that pet name and the fact that his hand was on her bare stomach didn’t help either. Hyunjin stuck his tongue out and ran out the infirmary.  

Moon sighed loudly and cursed under her breath. “How long was I out for?” she asked turning around to face the Chan 

“About an hour, maybe less” Anna answered 

“Do you have any iron supplements?” Moon asked running a hand through her hair 

“Why do you need those?” Chan asked 

“I’m anemic” she answered 

“Oohh, must’ve been the reason you passed out” Anna put the dots together 

“The blood test isn’t of any use now” Chan said 

“When did yo-” Moon was about to ask when she looked down at her arm, which was bleeding around the canola, “-is this supposed to be happening?” Moon asked extending her arm towards Anna 

“No it’s not and it wouldn’t have happened either if you hadn’t tried to jump Hyu- HH so aggressively” she said taking her arm to remove the canola

“Now go easy, you don’t want to ruin the stitches, so it’s best to just rest” Anna said after cleaning her arm.  

“What about training?” she asked 

“Phase 1 and 2 will be put on hold, you’ll train with Dandy, I.N and Liv, that’s phase 3, we’ll just have to determine your position first” Chan explained

“Don’t get your stitches wet, and come get them checked next week” Anna told Moon, who nodded her head and left. 

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It had been 3 weeks since the incident and Moon had been training with the three as told by the leader. During this time she learned that she was not fit to be in the Medic Team. Liv had tried her best to teach the older girl the basics, however it never ended in a good way. After almost killing J.One, Chan decided that it was enough and that more time shouldn’t be wasted. 

The gang was once again gathered in the meeting hall, this time to test Moon’s skills in tech. 

“There isn’t much to it, I hacked into the phone through which my dad was contacted, but not even minutes later the signal was lost, and the location I picked up was somewhere near a river. I managed to hack the traffic cams around the area and tracked the car CB97 go- is there some easier name I can call you, CB97 is weird. Anyways I tracked the car back” Moon explained when asked how she found them

“Impressive, and you may call me Chris” the leader replied making everyone gasp, considering this was against protocol

“Chris. Hhmm I like it, has a nice ring to it” Moon muttered 

“But what we can’t understand is how we couldn’t track back to you?” Dandy questioned 

“This one is connected to the projector?” Moon asked pointing towards Dandy’s laptop 

“Yeah” 

“I.N, can I have yours?”

“Sure” 

She took the computer and started typing away on it. 20 minutes later she spoke 

“Okay, now both of you, try  and hack into this using Dandy’s laptop”

“Excuse me? What did you do to it?” Dandy snatched it away from her 

“Nothing, just please do what I asked” Moon said 

Dandy looked at her skeptically but nonetheless began the task. Moon grabbed I.N’s laptop again to continue doing what she was. Everyone could see what Dandy and I.N were doing and the atmosphere was starting to get thick. “I’m in” Dandy spoke, Moon pressed a few keys on I.N’s laptop and everything on Dandy’s screen disappeared. “What the fuck?!?!?!?” Dandy exclaimed

“How did you do that?” I.N asked surprised, his eyes as big as saucers 

Moon giggled at the younger’s adorable expression and moved between him and Dandy. Taking Dandy’s laptop she started clicking away as she explained what she was doing, “So basically the hacker thinks they’ve gotten in, when in reality they’ve only reached a dummy server, the moment they fall for the decoy, I’ll be notified that someone is trying to break in, and if i do this-” she pressed a few keys “-the whole algorithm will reset and everything they did will be erased”

“How did you do this?” HH asked 

“How come Dandy didn’t know about this? He’s the head of all this tech stuff” J.One chirped in 

“Because I built this software to avoid legal issues. So no one knows about this” Moon answered

“Not bad shorty, looks like you can contribute after all” Woo smirked 

Moon wanted to say something snarky but decided against it, getting on HH’s bad side got her stabbed, she didn’t want to think about what could happen if she pissed off a sniper. 

“Well this concludes that Phase three is over and you’ll be put in the Tech Team with Dandy and I.N” Chris spoke

(A/N: I did not do a fact check, and I don’t know shit about hacking, please bear with me)

“What about my field test? What if I want to be on the task force?” Moon asked

“Shouldn’t you stick to what you’re good at princess, make things a bit easier for yourself” that pet name got her feeling butterflies in her stomach 

“Too boring, I want some action in my life”

“Joining a gang should be action enough” Lee Know said 

“At least give me chance, you said there would be a field test, if I pass that,  let me be on the task force” Moon requested 

“Okay, complete phase 1 and 2, if you pass, I’ll accept your request” Chris said 

“I thought I already passed phase 1? I won with all three of my instructors” Moon stated 

“Not with me” HH interrupted

“You cheated” Moon replied 

“I told you there will be no such thing as fair play when you’re in the field” 

“But I had you pinned down with my knife to your throat, what did you want me to do, kill you?” 

“Your body language said it all, your hands were shaking, you were hesitant, even if it were someone else underneath you, you wouldn’t have been able to kill them, that’s why I stabbed you, to show you what happens if you’re not quick” he explained 

“You don't know me!! I’d have killed anyone else, it was you that I was nervous, I didn’t want to accidentally do something that’d get me in trouble” she defended herself 

“Well how flattering, so glad to know I’m of importance to you” HH said sarcastically 

“Don-”

“STOP IT!!! BOTH OF YOU” Chris shouted 

“That’s enough. Moon you’ll fight me tomorrow in the ring, if you defeat me, you’ll start phase 2, if not, you’ll continue with SpearB. Dismissed.” Chris said and left the room, everyone following behind.

Hyunjin ran after the leader calling out to him “Chan wait!”, Chan turned around to face him

“Yeah?” he asked

“Why didn’t you put me with her to train, why Changbin?” Hyunjin asked 

“Because I don’t want her to end up back in the infirmary due to a childish rivalry” Chan answered 

“You seem to care a lot about our new member” Hyunjin smirked

“Watch your mouth or you’ll be the one in the infirmary” the older said turning around, his ears turning red.

“Mouth or hands?” Hyunjin called out. The moment those words left his mouth, a knife went flying past his head. The younger was completely unfazed until a scream was heard from down the hallway. “Shit!” the leader cursed as they both ran towards the source of the scream. 

“And I was going to put her in the infirmary” Hyunjin laughed looking at Moon who was clutching the side of her neck with blood trickling down. Chan raised his fist and Hyunjin ran away shouting a bunch of sorries. “Is this a subtle way of saying, ‘please kill yourself and make things easier for us’” Moon sarcastically questioned

Chan released a breathy laugh and replied “Sorry, this one’s on me, let me help you with that”. 

“Please do bef-” Moon started losing her balance, Chan hurriedly grabbed her waist balancing her “woah there” he said looking down at her weak figure

“Before I pass out” she completed her sentence, standing up straight with Chan’s help.

“The cut isn’t very deep, it doesn’t need stitches, a simple bandage will do” Chan spoke, inspecting her wound

“That’s a relief,” she replied. The room filled with comfortable silence as Chan cleaned her wound and started bandaging it.  

“How come you’re not fazed by anything” Chan asked focused on Moon’s neck

“Fazed as in?” Moon questioned

“I don’t know, you joined a gang 6 months ago, you were quite calm for that and after the beginning of training you were normal, you would be covered in bruises but you’d continue about your day as if it's not even there.” he told looking in her eyes, now done with treating her neck 

“Everyone has a story” Moon whispered 

“What’s yours?” he asked, hand cupping her neck, thumb gently rubbing her cheek

“Not the best one” she answered leaning into his touch 

“Why?” he asked after a few seconds 

“Why what?”

“Why did you look for him, why, even though he was abusive?” 

“I never sa-”

“I saw. The night you left, I followed you out, and I saw everything” he cut her off. 

Moon sighed closing her eyes “I don’t know, it’s complicated. I didn’t want to, but at the same time I wanted to, it was all so confusing” she answered opening her eyes, meeting his honey brown ones 

“What would you have done if I didn’t let him go? Would your life be peaceful right now” he asked, suddenly feeling weird towards her. 

“I don’t know. I guess I wouldn’t have left, I would’ve forced you, even if it got me killed. I didn’t want to look for him but I did, for my mother. Being honest, my life is much more peaceful than it was back at home” she told. At this Chan let out a series of laughs, his head resting on her shoulder as he kneeled in front of her. “What’s so funny?” She asked giggling 

“You, you are one of a kind. Who the hell says, they’re peaceful being in a gang” he said getting up, extending his hand out to her. She just shrugged her shoulders, taking his hand and standing up. “At least now I can fight back when someone hits me” Moon says as they both exit the infirmary.

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

  “Stabbing is not allowed. Pinned under, with a knife against the throat, one of us concedes, cut somewhere where a vital organ is, passing out, counts as losing. Since stabbing is not allowed any cuts made will be considered stab wounds, meaning if the cut is big it insinuates that the victim bleeds to death” Chan explained as Moon and him stood in the middle of the gym ready to fight with the rest of the members watching.  

Moon threw a punch to Chan’s throat, he successfully dodged it grabbing Moon’s arm and twisting it. She went to kick his leg but he threw her on the ground before her leg could touch his. Chan lunged forward to punch her when she rolled over causing him to hit the ground. Moon quickly got up and locked her arm around his throat, she tightened her hold trying to choke him but he leaned forward flipping Moon over causing her to fall flat on her back. Chan jabbed her with his elbow making her groan, she retaliated by kneeing him in the head, Chan fell back giving her the perfect opportunity to get back on her feet. Moon kicked Chan in the side making him stumble, quickly straddling him, she pulled her dagger to attack, however Chan was quick to react. He twisted her arm making her drop the weapon, successfully flipping them over, Chan now had Moon under him. But before Chan could draw his weapon at her, she headbutted him. Chan grabbed his nose groaning in pain, Moon took this opportunity and pushed him off herself and ran towards her weapon. Chan quickly recovered and grabbed her arm pulling her back, he turned her around and wrapped his hand around her neck choking her, evoking a scream due to the pressure on her wound. She started scratching his arms to get him to loosen his grip but it was useless. She put one feet on his chest while holding his arm, steadying herself, she hauled her other leg over his shoulder and around his neck. While Moon tried to elbow him in the head he grabbed her waist and pulled her back. Moon wrapped her other leg around his head as well making him bow his head, taking advantage of the position she put both her palms on the ground and with much difficulty she managed to flip them both over. Chan landed on his back with his head between her thighs. Moon tightened her hold trying to choke him which proved useless. Chan was both larger and stronger than her, taking advantage of his strength, he squeezed her thigh bruising it, however Moon was unfazed and kept tightening her legs, Chan grabbed her other leg and pulled them apart. Getting up he pulled her towards himself by her leg. Putting his legs on either of her waist he straddled her, he pinned both her wrists above her head and leaned closer to her, “Not so tough now, huh princess”. She’d be lying to herself if she said that the close proximity didn’t make her heart flutter. Looking up at his smug expression she knew he was doing it on purpose knowing how it affected her. Moon reached forward and attached her lips to his catching everyone off guard. Taking advantage of his shocked state, she kneed his back pushing him off. Quickly getting up and grabbing her weapon, “Not so tough now, huh daddy” the words left her mouth before she could stop them. 

“Enjoying yourself baby girl?” he asked trying to grab her, but Moon was fast and swung her knife making a huge cut from his shoulder, across his chest to the side of his abdomen. “More than you can imagine” she smirked stepping away from him. 

“That’s definitely going to leave a scar” Woojin spoke 

“Don’t worry, Moon’s gonna kiss it better” Hyunjin joined in

“I won, now I get a field test as promised” Moon said before anyone else could pass any comments 

“Not yet princess, you still have phase 2 to complete” Chan answered 

“How long will that take?” she whined

“Depends on how fast you learn to shoot a weapon” Woojin said 

“Why are you so eager for a field test anyway?” Bree asked

“Because it’s boring in here, I wanna go out” Moon answered 

“Being almost stabbed to death twice is boring?” Anna exclaimed

“I need more spice” Moon shrugged 

Chan grabbed her wrist and started dragging her with him. “Where are you taking me?” she asked, trying to get out of his grip. “To make your life more spicy” he simply said before dragging her out of the door.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

[kinkyacademia]

Can I request Dabi omegaverse x reader? Where she’s a UA student and they meet midfight and she has this “oh fuck” kinda moment? Headcannons work too! Thank you so much! Can’t wait to see/read what you do💕💕💕💕

Hi Meatballs, it’s been a while! Sorry that I can’t be so cheery in my reintroduction, my laptop just reset on me in the middle of writing, and this whole request was SCRAPPED and I’m absolutely PISSED because it was going so well. But, anyways, I’m at least half off my haitus and I’m gonna try and write at least once a week, but more likely a couple times a week once I’ve eased myself back in!

PS. I know I’ve written a request like this before, but it wasn’t with omegaverse. Dabi’s only a couple years older than Y/N in this!!

-Mod Pasta🍜🍝

An omega getting into the country’s most prestigious fighting academy? You bet your ass you got in! Suppressants worked wonders if you could ignore the overpowered smell of alphas around you, and it was easy when you hung out with your fellow omegas.

Uraraka and Aoyama were a couple of the omegas you hung out with, along with a couple betas like Midoriya. Kirishima used to join you guys during lunch and after school, but now he was caught up with his alpha. All these factors fell into place when the League of Villains attacked the UA training camp. You had been on the scare run with Aoyama, and he was clinging onto you for dear life.

“Couldn’t we just sit and wait for help?” He pleaded, dragging along the ground behind you. You hesitantly shook your head, plunging deeper into the woods and closer to the camp grounds.

“It would be stupid to wait. These are villains, and they won’t wait to rip you in half. Come on, let’s - Aoyama!” You groaned as he detached himself and curled up in a large, thick bush. You had to reason with him to stay put while you got help, and to run back to the Wild Wild Pussycats if the fire got too close. You left him there while you pushed on towards the camp, small branches and ferns scraping you and letting your pyjamas get stained with a bit of blood.

“Was it, Twice?”

“No, it’s never enough, burn them to the gr-! Yeah, it’s just enough to scare them, but not enough to spread paste these woods.” The first voice was a low purr, and the second was a higher pitch with a psychotic undertone. You didn’t recognize them, and therefor got low and hid far enough away to see them and not let them smell you.

One was in a skin tight suit, and the other had purple scars and a trench coat. The one with the staples didn’t seem too intimidating, though, but you kept your guard up - Aizawa had told everyone about him and his fire quirk.

“Hold up, I think one of them is close,” The crazy one looked around a couple times in surprise at the other’s words - he must be a beta. You quietly took a couple steps back, angry at yourself for getting too close.

That’s when the smell hit you. Actually, it was when his smell hit you. Like a pot of honey, it drenched over you, and you cursed your suppressants for not being effective enough to ward his power completely off. He must be a very, very strong alpha.

“Those bushes,” Like many times before, you had to push your hormones down and stand straight up, readying your quirk - breathing out a substance that quickly cooled into a hard, rough rock that broke off after a few minutes. You blew onto your fists, staring the - damn - tall villains with the best glare you could muster,  “Oh, looks it’s just an o-”

“Shit,” You whispered under your breath. His smell hit you again like a wave, and you knew it wasn’t the suppressants not doing their job this time.

This was your alpha.

“Come on, let’s kill her! - I mean, let’s rough her up a little and move on,” The bodysuit guy who you assumed to be Twice chimed, and the other nodded slowly, closing his wide blue eyes.

“I’ve got this one, I’ll meet back with you later,” The fluffy haired guy waved the other off, and you swallowed your pride and approached them with full intent to fight.

“Don’t underestimate me, villains,” You growled, blowing once again onto your fists before using your recently-learned, not quite honed martial arts training to jump kick Twice, trying to initiate a battle so that you didn’t have to pay attention to these damn hormones.

He ducked, grabbing your other leg and pulling it out from under you. You forced yourself not to squeal - where had that even come from? - and pushed against the ground with your hands, falling back onto your feet and charging them again. The damn alpha quickly pushed the other back.

“Hey-!”

“I said go, Twice,” He snapped, and you ducked under his arm that was alighting in flames. He whipped around in surprise, and you slammed your foot into his back, forcing him to stumble forward. You hooked your leg around his own, and fell down with the tall brute. Breathing against his neck, his damn neck, you melded him to the ground. Instead of having Twice help him, he gave the villain a thumbs up.

Twice finally scrambled off to join the others, and you let him while attempting to pin the guy’s hands to the floor. Without so much as minimal effort, the alpha snapped your bonds and hooked his legs around your own, flipping you off of him and taking the breath out of you. As you wheezed, trying to get up, he simply sat on your legs, staring you straight in the eyes with his piercing blue own.

He was insanely intimidating, and you slowly leaned back until your head rested against the ground in submission. Like a lion’s purr, he told you his alias, “The name’s Dabi, and you’re way, way you out of your league, Omega.”

“Sh-shut up, villain,” You barely managed, and as he went to grab your hands to pin them, you rolled him off of you and pushed yourself up, scurrying back and grabbing a tree, “I won’t accept whatever our bodies are telling us. You’re a villain, a ruthless killer, I w-”

His voice easily overtook your own as he jumped up with grace and stalked towards you, your eyes having to travel higher and higher the closer he got.

“You will obey, you don’t have any other choice. We were made for each other,” He snarled, and the sound pulled a whimper from your lips. You didn’t have the will to stop him as he grabbed your hands and pinned them above you to the tree, scraping them in the process.

“I won’t… I c-can’t…” You whined, weakly pushing against him. Why did this have to happen? Couldn’t you match with a hero, a civilian, hell, even a vigilante?

“Now that we’ve met, neither of us can go back to being alone. You know that,” He leaned down, taking in your smell and then rubbing his cheek against the side of your head, smearing his scent in your hair.

“I can’t love you, everyone… Everyone would know,” You weren’t even struggling at this point. Your legs were practically too weak to hold yourself up.

“Not if they don’t know what I smell like. My fire burns it away, and now you’re going to be one of the UA students we captured. What’s your name, sweet cheeks?” His grin sent chills down your back.

“I-uh… (L/N) (F/N), and I can’t go anywhere with you, I have school,” He released your arms, grabbing your shoulder and not even forcing you to walk with him. You would have followed him, anyway.

“Don’t worry, a shower will wash you off if you need to go back,” He shrugged, and then his grip tightened, “But I don’t imagine you need to go back anytime soon.”

“Of course n-so, I have to! You’re… evil…” You could barely pull the words from your mouth. So this was what it felt like to truly submit to your other half.

“I’m yours, that’s what I am, so shut up and just let Compress bring you back with us, alright (L/N)?” 

It’s not like you could say no. He smelled too sweet, too rustic, too much like charcoal and cedar. His touch was too warm, too inviting, and you ended up in a back room of the hide out, never wanting to leave. Of course you had to, but a shower washed off the smell every time you saw him, right?

[phases-of-the-fallen]

Explanation

fandom: alternate timeline of Dreamswap by kai

characters: Waning Crescent, Comet

warnings: cursing, mention of murder and death, 

word count: 2,112

Summary: Waning Crescent and Comet talk about what’s upset WC so much.

“So, are you going to tell me what in the fuck happened on your last mission that freaked you out so badly?” Comet asked after he sat down in his boyfriend’s lap, nuzzling into the other’s chest a little bit. “It’s going to bother me until you spill, and you know it helps to tell someone else about whatever is going on, so that we can figure out how to deal with it.”

Waning Crescent swallowed hard for a moment, fidgeting with his hands for a couple of moments, rolling the pen that he’d been using to sign paperwork for a couple of moments before saying “I had gotten a report that Full, Half and New Moon was in Underswap 7651. I went to check out the report alone, as that particular timeline has been under the protection of JR for decades, and New Moon at least should have remembered that, as I’ve captured him there twice. Although the tacos there are some of the best in the multiverse, so perhaps… That’s why they were there.”

“Uh-huh. Having a run-in with those three - even if they did manage to escape you - shouldn’t have scared you that much though. You’re still all wound up by what happened…” Comet pointed out, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist, wishing he could pet the other’s wings, but the other’s wings were currently intangible so that he could sit on the chair without needing to be on the edge of the seat.

“.... How much do you know about Full Moon? Like his past, before you two met?” Waning Crescent responded - he wasn’t deflecting. He was going to explain - he just wanted to know if Comet had known that Angel had been bonded with a determined spirit and hadn’t told him.

“That his timeline was that endless void that you found the both of us in. He was grieving about something, but he never told me what. Apart from that, I know nothing more about his past then you do… Why? Did he do something weird again?” Comet responded, frowning a little and waiting for Crescent to get to his point.

“Ah… I… I accidentally killed Full Moon. He jumped in front of my claymore as I intended to pin down New Moon and I couldn’t get my blade away in time, and… My blade pierced his soul and he died.” Waning Crescent explained. His voice failing him for a couple of moments “And then a determined spirit - one who Full Moon had apparently had absorbed their soul, appeared and offered their soul to New Moon, who… Who took it. A strange, purple button appeared in front of New Moon and he… He resurrected Full Moon in front of me. Full moon had just finished dusting, and he… He’d come back. New Moon started to laugh and I… I fled the battlefield.”

Comet was still for a very long time, or so it felt to Waning Crescent, before he cleared his nonexistent throat, saying quietly, his voice a little shaky “Okay… So New Moon can resurrect people and has a Determined Human’s soul backing his power now. That… That could be bad, but we’ve dealt with monsters who have absorbed multiple human souls, and -”

“New Moon is not a monster. Neither am I. We have the physical appearance of skeleton monsters, but that’s as far as the similarities go. You’ve seen the shape and color of my soul, Comet. One of the constants in this multiverse is the shape and color - or lack thereof - for monster and human souls. New Moon and I… We were created by the previous guardian of emotions, as she… They? Were dying. She summoned the both of us. We are the… We are positive and negative emotions - and the magical power behind them, given form and substance. I… I may be able to show you my true form, if you promise not to freak out on me.” Waning Crescent explains quietly, fidgeting more intensely with the pen in his hands. It was almost impossible to not look at Comet directly, given that the other was still in his lap, but he was just barely managing it.

"Uhh... Okay? Promise me that like... Your body won't... I don't know... Disintegrate or vanish when you do? Or that you can switch back?" Comet responded after a moment's hesitation, trying to process what his beloved was saying. Waning Crescent had said that he was the guardian of positivity, but he hadn't really known what the other meant. None of them did - though they all felt the uplifting effects of his aura. 

"No, my body won't disintegrate - but as my true form contains the essence of my soul as well as all of my magic, my physical body will go limp and even grow cold and void of my magic, if I leave it for too long. Though that shouldn't be necessary. You may want to get off of my lap, as my physical form will be unable to hold you close during that time." Waning Crescent explained quietly.

“I… Okay then. Thank you for the warning.” Comet responded, part of him wondering if he should maybe convince the other not to do this. This felt… A little bit strange and like the other was making an impulsive and probably bad decision, and he was processing everything else that Waning Crescent had told him.  Comet got up, taking a couple of steps back. “So… You can… You can show me your true form, if you want to.”

Waning Crescent nodded, letting his eye lights fuzz out as he gathered all of his magic into the core of his body, first his soul taking shape, before he pushed himself further from the body. It had been quite some time since he’d done this last, and it was a bit of a struggle at first - but eventually, he was in his original form - a yellow-colored ball of condensed positivity magic and awareness. He floats over to Comet, gently coming to rest on one of the other’s shoulders, letting out a soft trill. He pulses a bit of magic through Comet before returning to his skeletal form “So as you can see… It’s not that a powerful monster is in possession of a determination soul… But…”

“A… A Guardian has absorbed a human soul. And I’m guessing that neither of you have ever done that before - and if the previous guardian did, she or they didn’t ever write down whatever the fuck happened, and if it’s possible to undo it without causing damage, since the two of you still have that weird destiny bond thing that makes it impossible to kill New Moon without it also killing you.” Comet finished, frowning a little bit. 

He had known that there was something odd about boss - but he hadn’t realized just how unique Waning Crescent was - were there other Guardians in the multiverse, perhaps hidden in obscure timelines? Protecting… Who knew what? “But… You mentioned New Moon being in possession of a Button - considering the fact that when he used it, that world didn’t Reset, he doesn’t have the ability to Reset a timeline - thank the fucking stars, as that could cause a shit load of trouble. He used it to heal Full Moon - which will be annoying to try to capture them, since with a press of a button, they’ll be back to full health again…”

“I… You’re right, of course. I probably just overreacted. They have a powerful healing ability that could potentially be a great hindrance, depending on if New Moon can resurrect dead criminals and decides to try to do so in order to create chaos… It’s unlikely, though. He mostly just flees and hides with his companions.” Waning Crescent mused “And no, there are no records of a Guardian absorbing a human soul, not to my knowledge. The previous guardian of the… Of the emotive balance was contemptuous and very wary of mortals - chasing away any who attempted to live near them. They were periodically attacked for the power they held, and was eventually struck down in a battle - though they were able to kill their attacker, before they created us.”

“Huh.” Comet remarked - he’s pretty sure that Waning Crescent is leaving out a few key details, but he’s not going to push for more than the other is willing to share. He already knows far more about the true past of the both of them than… Probably anyone else in existence, with the possible exceptions of Full and Half moon, depending on how much, if anything, New Moon had told them of his past. “So, what’s the plan with the three assholes?”

“I’ll update the orders for the undercover operatives. To watch out for any on The List, but for them to not approach New, Full, or Half moon under any circumstances, and if they are in a timeline for more than a couple of hours, to report directly to me, so that I… I can observe them directly.” Waning Crescent decided, nodding a little to himself firmly, before he asked “Does that sound reasonable to you? We can hope that his new powers only extend to that resurrection ability, but until we know for certain…”

“It’s best to limit the potential damage that New Moon could do, if at all possible. It’s going to take time to spread those new orders throughout our network, but I’ll be sure to send it to the regional heads myself.” Comet responded, turning partially, intending to leave.

“Absolutely not - for one thing, I need to make sure to write down and encode those orders… And another thing is, don’t think I haven’t forgotten that your appointment with Healer Ara regarding your pregnancy isn’t today in less than an hour and a half.”

“Oh come oooon! We’ve known that I’ve been pregnant for what? Two weeks now, at most? I’ll be fine.” Comet huffed, pouting a little that he’d been caught out so easily. He was excited to be carrying a soulling… But all of the information about what he could and what he wasn’t going to be able to do as the pregnancy continued was more than a little daunting “Hey… So uh… Since you’re not… Not a monster or a human, do you think that will affect the development of our soulling?”

“I… I don’t know. It’s one of the things that we will need to discuss with Dr. Ara and their Obstetrics team.” Waning Crescent answered honestly. He was worried about how the soulling would continue to grow - and he knew that Comet was as well.

“Yeah… Still not sure how I’m pregnant in the first place… ‘s not as if I have a soul…” Comet muttered, feeling more than a little self-conscious. He’d kind of assumed that he’d be unable to have kids that way, because of his condition. 

“But the deep scans showed that you did have one at one point… And again, that’s some of the things that will be gone over in that appointment today. Do you remember that Dr. Ara took a sample of your magic to have it tested?” Waning Crescent prodded gently. 

“I… Yeah, you’re right. I’m just… I’m so nervous about all of this - th-though I am excited as well. We… We’re going to have an ankle biter all our own. Look out multiverse, because our kid is going to be one hell of a force of nature. That much I can feel.” Comet answered back, rallying himself after a moment, his eye lights a pair of stars - one yellow, the other blue and purple, a grin appearing on his face.

“Of that, I have no doubt.” Waning Crescent responded with a fond smile appearing on his face, hugging his beloved boyfriend in close, a soft purr rumbling in his chest. “Now… Help me word the updated orders correctly?”

“Eh… You know that sort of thing is not my strong suit. Point me at an AU and tell me who to stab? I’m good. Tell me who to threaten and scare? I’m good. But the whole… Leading a secret service and army with a silver tongue? That’s all you, boss.” Comet grumbled, though he did follow the other back to the desk, claiming Waning Crescent’s lap as soon as the other sat down. It was nice to be close to the other like this, and he hoped that the obstetrics appointment would answer a lot of the questions that both of them had. This new healing ability of New Moon’s could be a pain in the ass… But shouldn’t prove to be too much of a danger...  Right?

[almostafantasia]

Lancelot (9/14)

Lexa Woods, an impeccably dressed British secret agent for the covert Kingsman organisation, whose latest mission sees her sneaking through the corridors of the White House in the middle of the night, finds herself having to seduce the daughter of the newly elected President of the United States in a bid to save the world. It’s a surprise to Lexa when she ends up falling for her target as fast as she does, meanwhile Clarke doesn’t expect her gorgeous date for an international political gala dinner to drag her into a world of thrill and danger where one wrong move could cause a global disaster.

a clexa kingsman au | chapter 9/14 read on ao3

“I’ve got this,” Lexa says to Clarke when the waiter brings over their bill.

Clarke does the polite thing and tries to protest, but Lexa locates her wallet inside her jacket and takes out her debit card.

“My dad gave me some money and told me I should split the bill with you,” says Clarke with a soft laugh. “I think that’s his weird way of saying that he approves of you.”

“I like your dad,” grins Lexa.

“He’s an idiot,” grumbles Clarke, rolling her eyes.

“All dads are,” agrees Lexa, thinking of her own, and how they can go from taking a serious phonecall from an important work colleague, to singing out of tune duets with each other whilst cooking dinner moments later, using spatulas as microphones and thoroughly embarrassing Lexa and Aden in the process.

Lexa pays quickly and takes a few spare bills out of her wallet to leave as a tip, trying to mentally work out whether her bank account can afford this dinner without passing the receipt on to Kingsman to claim as expenses, to save her conscious a little of the guilt that she feels for trying to seduce Clarke for the sake of a mission.

“So, um, how did I do?” asks Lexa, slipping her wallet back into her jacket pocket.

Clarke snorts.

“You want me to rate you?” she asks, arching an eyebrow at Lexa. “Is that a British thing, rating your date? Like a Yelp review?”

“I’m sorry, I’m nervous,” explains Lexa, forcing out a shaky laugh. “I guess what I actually meant to ask was whether you’ve had a good time. And if you’ve had a good enough time to be interested in getting out of here?”

Clarke tilts her head to the side in curiosity and asks, “Like, back to your hotel?”

“If you want,” nods Lexa, her teeth chewing at her lower lip as she waits for Clarke’s response.

“Two Secret Service agents are waiting for me in a car outside, ready to take me back to the White House,” replies Clarke.

“Of course,” says Lexa, trying not to display too much disappointment at the rejection, though she can’t help but feel like maybe the date wasn’t quite as successful as she hoped, especially after the way that Clarke came onto her in the White House last night. Regardless, Lexa has to respect Clarke’s decision and so she continues, “That’s fine. I understand.”

Clarke leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. A slow smile spreads across her pretty lips, and she says in an almost whisper, “But there’s probably a staff door near the toilets that we could use to escape out back, then call an Uber or something?”

Lexa suppresses a grin, trying not to seem too eager to get Clarke back to her hotel room, though her heart is racing at a thousand beat per minute at the mere prospect.

Instead, Lexa mirrors Clarke by leaning a little closer across the table, and teases, “Isn’t running away from the American government more of a second date kind of thing?”

“I think I can make an exception for you.”

Sneaking out of the back of the restaurant is nowhere near as exciting as they thought it might be, but they still tumble into the back of the Uber that Lexa ordered for them slightly breathlessly, joined at the hand.

The journey back to Lexa’s hotel is a silent one. It’s strange really, considering how easily conversation flowed between them during dinner, but now that they’re sitting in the back of a car with absolutely no pretence about the fact that they’re going to Lexa’s room to have sex, they each sit quietly on their respective sides of the backseat, attention on their phones instead of each other.

Lexa can’t speak for Clarke, but her own reason for staying silent is a simple one. Clarke looks stunning in that dress, even more so now that Lexa’s pre-date nerves have dissipated, and knowing that any words that would leave her lips would probably be just garbled nonsense, Lexa chooses to stay quiet instead of risking saying anything that might make Clarke change her mind.

Lexa takes Clarke’s hand again when they get out of the car and enter the hotel, enjoying the feeling of Clarke’s digits laced through her own. They don’t talk much as they climb the stairs to Lexa’s hotel room, deliberately avoiding the lift because Lexa knows there’s a high chance her hands will end up beneath the hem of Clarke’s dress if they get the chance to be alone before they even reach the privacy of the hotel room. But it gets harder to resist Clarke the closer they get to Lexa’s room, and by the time they actually make it to the door, Lexa’s hand has dropped Clarke’s and her arm has snaked its way around Clarke’s waist instead, her hand splayed low on Clarke’s hip.

When Lexa’s nervous fingers fumble over the keycard, taking three attempts to press it against the card reader in the right way to unlock the door, Clarke laughs and teases Lexa, who retaliates by herding Clarke into the room the very second that she gets the door open and then pinning Clarke against the nearby wall as she kicks the door closed behind her.

“Finally,” says Clarke, her fingers ghosting over the button at the front of Lexa’s jacket without actually undoing it.

“Have you been waiting for this?” teases Lexa.

“Haven’t you?” Clarke retorts with a quick tongue.

Lexa bends her head enough to press her lips against Clarke’s, too wound up by hours of teasing to be able to wait any longer. In an ideal world, Lexa would charm Clarke with a few more deliberately disarming lines, until Clarke is a desperate mess in her arms, and then she would swoop in for a kiss that is far slower than the one Clarke wants. But Lexa isn’t a character from a spy movie with superhuman abilities when it comes to seducing women, she’s a hot-blooded lesbian with a gorgeous girl in her hotel room after a dinner dripping with hungry looks and flirtatious comments.

The only consolation is that Clarke is as eager as Lexa is, opening her mouth to receive Lexa’s tongue almost immediately, while her fingers pop open the button they’ve been playing with and slide beneath the fabric of the jacket to hold Lexa’s waist, searing Lexa’s skin through the thin material of her shirt.

Feeling emboldened by the enthusiasm with which Clarke kisses back, Lexa lets her own hands drop to Clarke’s bum, cupping a cheek with each hand and palming gently.

“Naughty,” Clarke mutters against Lexa’s lips, but she gives no indication that she isn’t enjoying it, in fact quite the opposite, from the way that she pushes Lexa’s jacket off her shoulders so that it lands on the floor with a soft thud.

Clarke’s fingers find their way to Lexa’s chest, deftly popping open each button on the front of Lexa’s shirt, and Lexa, quite frankly, thinks that it’s disgraceful that Clarke is managing to strip Lexa out of her clothes while kissing back quite so filthily, while Lexa’s brain is going into overdrive and struggling to focus on one thing at once. It’s almost too overwhelming, having Clarke’s mouth on hers, and Clarke’s hands tugging at her clothes, and Clarke’s scent filling Lexa’s nostrils and clouding her brain like the fumes of an addictive drug.

That’s exactly what Clarke is though - a drug - and Lexa has never been able to get enough of her, not since they first met.

Tonight, however, Lexa thinks she might be able to get pretty close.

“Bed,” she mumbles against Clarke’s lips, steering Clarke towards the bed in the centre of the room. It’s really just an excuse to get Clarke’s back off the wall that Lexa had her pushed against so that her hands can locate the zipper at the back of Clarke’s dress and pull it down with a rasp that seems to echo around the hotel room.

By the time they make it to the bed, they’re both just in their panties. Lexa doesn’t remember having her own bra removed, and concludes that it must have happened in the five seconds it took to reset her brain following the realisation that Clarke decided to forgo a bra beneath her dress entirely.

Skin against skin feel good, legs slotting together on the bed in a way that allows Lexa to feel the obvious heat radiating from between Clarke’s legs against her own thigh, and she tugs awkwardly at the waistband of Clarke’s knickers, trying to convey the message to Clarke that she wants them gone.

“Oh, you think you’re going first, do you?” grins Clarke, pulling back from the kiss for long enough to push her own underwear down legs, throwing the skimpy garment onto the floor somewhere behind Lexa.

“I don’t see you complaining,” says Lexa, oozing with confidence now that she has a naked girl in her bed. She slides an exploratory hand down Clarke’s stomach and through short hair above the apex of Clarke’s thighs, resting her hand over Clarke’s mound without yet dipping her fingers into the warmth that she knows awaits her beyond.

“Fuck,” gasps Clarke. “I like this side of you.”

Lexa nuzzles her face into Clarke’s neck, running her lips and tongue over hot skin, as she asks, “Are you sure you want this?”

Lexa has all the physical signs in front of her that Clarke is into this and wants it to progress further, but she feels pretty unbelievably lucky to be in such a position and wants to hear Clarke’s verbal consent to, just to assure her that this is definitely happening.

“I want this. I want you.”

Smiling against the skin of Clarke’s neck, Lexa lets her hand dip lower, then lets out a gasp at the warmth that she encounters. She’s had both Clarke’s physical and verbal consent, but now she’s got the concrete evidence that Clarke is as into this as she is coating her fingers. Clarke’s folds are almost too slippery as Lexa slides her fingers through them, but it’s an incredible turn on to feel Clarke this way, and to have one of Clarke’s hands gripping the back of Lexa’s neck while the other reaches down to wrap around Lexa’s wrist, urging her hand into more definite movements.

Lexa isn’t going to complain. Each time her fingertips dance around Clarke’s aching clit, Clarke’s hips buck off the bed and a little whimper slips from Clarke’s throat. And Lexa wants to hear more sounds just like that one, and she wants to feel Clarke writhing beneath her, so she does it again, and again, and again until she’s painting circles around Clarke’s clit in deliberate circles, applying more pressure with each one, until Clarke is a garbling mess.

Lexa builds the pressure up like a spring, squeezing the coils closer together with each movement of her fingers until the pressure is almost too much, and Clarke explodes, her orgasm erupting with a cry from her throat like that spring leaping from between Lexa’s fingers as she squeezes it too tight.

“Fuck … Lexa …”

Clarke’s noises are almost incomprehensible, but Lexa distinguishes her own name and a few expletives in there for good measure, smiling against the now sweaty skin of Clarke’s neck as she feels Clarke’s hips twitch and buck uncontrollably while she rides out her orgasm.

“Shit,” groans Clarke, forcibly pushing Lexa’s hand away from her centre when it all becomes a bit too much. “Sorry, that was quick.”

“That’s definitely not a reason to apologise,” says Lexa, rolling slightly to the side to give Clarke some room to breathe, though she does trail her wet fingers up Clarke’s body, leaving a sticky smear of arousal over Clarke’s stomach and then over her breast. “More time for round two. I’d like to taste you, if you don’t object.”

Clarke’s eyelids flicker open, pupils dark with arousal, and she rasps, “God, even in bed you’re a gentlewoman. No, I don’t object. But shouldn’t I do you first?”

“You can do me later,” replies Lexa, starting her descent down Clarke’s body by sucking a red mark into the skin over Clarke’s clavicle. “As many times as you like.”

“What an offer,” snickers Clarke, though her laugh trails off into a soft moan as Lexa’s lips close around the hardened peak of her nipple.

“But for now, I’m going to go down on you.”

Lexa must have said something right because Clarke’s legs part, allowing Lexa’s body the space to slide down between them, hooking one foot over each shoulder to keep them spread as she starts to kiss and nip at the soft skin of Clarke’s stomach.

“I like how forward you - ahhh.”

The moan that Clarke lets out when Lexa descends further and swipes her tongue through folds that are still sensitive from her earlier ministrations is practically indecent. It’s loud too, and if Lexa weren’t in her own version of heaven, with Clarke dripping and open before her, she would perhaps feel a little bit of shame for the fact that Clarke’s moan has probably just echoed loud enough for the entire hotel - or at the very least, Anya next door - to be able to hear it.

“I like the sounds you make,” responds Lexa, lifting her mouth from Clarke’s heat so that she can talk but replacing the pressure of her tongue with fingers that probe lazily. “I could get drunk off those sou-”

One of Clarke’s feet digs into Lexa’s shoulder, cutting her off mid-sentence, and Clarke scolds Lexa huskily.

“Less talking. More doing.”

Lexa is only too happy to oblige.

Everything about Clarke is addictive. The sounds that escape her throat, the taste of her juices smeared across Lexa’s lips and chin, the way that her hand comes down to plant itself on the back of Lexa’s head to keep her exactly where she wants her - it’s all slotting together to form an experience that Lexa never wants to end.

It will have to end at some point, when Clarke has to return to her responsibilities and Lexa has to get on a plane back to England ready for the next mission. But at the very least, Lexa knows that they can have tonight to themselves, two ordinary women getting to know each other in the most intimate of ways.

Clarke hand tightening in Lexa’s hair draws Lexa out of the confines of her own messy thoughts, and she tries to let herself bask in the now, committing every tiny detail to memory, applying herself fully to the single goal of making this as pleasurable as possible for Clarke.

“Fuck. Oh God. Yes, Lexa, I’m gonna…”

Lexa wakes up happy.

It takes her a few moments to remember why, still half-asleep in the blissful warmth of her bed, but when she realises that half of that warmth is radiating from the naked body beside her own, with a single arm draped across Lexa’s bare stomach, Lexa remembers every beautiful detail of the previous night.

With her head resting on Lexa’s shoulder, tousled blonde hair cascading over Lexa’s unclothed skin and the pillows beneath their heads, Clarke is the picture of peace. Her eyes are still closed and her chest moves up and down with each slow breath that she takes in her sleep, but her lips are curled up at the corners in a miniscule smile. Lexa can’t help but press the softest of kisses to Clarke’s forehead.

She doesn’t mean to wake Clarke, but the girl in her arms stirs slightly when Lexa’s lips touch against her skin. Clarke lets out a sleepy little noise and her eyes flutter open, peering up at Lexa dazedly from beneath heavy eyelids.

“Morning, beautiful,” says Lexa, tightening her arms around Clarke to keep her close.

Clarke’s own fingers squeeze Lexa’s waist and she nuzzles her face into Lexa’s neck, shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight that pours through the crack in the curtains.

“Last night feels like a dream,” mumbles Clarke, her voice husky and heavy with sleep. “I half-expected to wake up in my own bed.”

“I’m glad you’re in mine,” says Lexa.

Clarke extracts her arm from around Lexa’s middle, much to Lexa’s dismay, and rolls onto her front beside Lexa, her head propped up on her hands.

“Here I am,” pouts Clarke, “looking like a sexed-up monster, and you’re still full of smooth lines.”

Lexa reaches out with one hand to sweep a stray lock of wild hair out of Clarke’s face.

“Prettiest monster I’ve ever seen,” Lexa tells Clarke.

Clarke lets her head drops down and buries her face in the pillow, flustered by Lexa’s charm. When she speaks, her voice is slightly muffled.

“There you go again.”

Lexa’s fingers have a mind of their own, absently carding through Clarke’s hair as it tumbled down her naked back.

“Do you want me to stop?” asks Lexa, her voice low.

“No,” replies Clarke, pushing herself back up so that she can look at Lexa with eyes full of mischief. “But I do think there are better things we can be doing than talking.”

Lexa grins and leans down, capturing Clarke’s mouth with her own. The angle is awkward, but the moan that erupts from Clarke’s throat is more than worth the ache in Lexa’s neck.

It hardly matters anyway because in an instant, Clarke has rolled fully onto her back, pulling Lexa’s body on top of her own. The covers slide off their bodies but there’s enough heat in this bed without them, particularly with the way that Clarke’s legs part like Lexa’s tongue has painted a secret password against Clarke’s.

Lexa moves her hand to grope Clarke’s breast, where dark nipple is taunting her, already pert and aching for attention. But Clarke has other ideas, and her fingers wrap around Lexa’s wrist before her palm can make contact with the globe of flesh, guiding that hand down over her soft stomach and through the short thatch of hair on her pubic mound instead.

Lexa should have learned by now to switch her phone off before any kind of encounter with Clarke, but there was only one thing on her mind when they made it back to her hotel room last night and it certainly wasn’t anything to do with her phone. No sooner have Lexa’s fingers found their treasure, dipping into the warmth pooling between Clarke’s legs, is the moan that leaves Clarke’s lips drowned out by the obnoxious ringtone of Lexa’s phone.

“Ignore it,” gasps Clarke, bucking her hips up off the bed in an attempt to get more definitive pressure from Lexa’s fingertips on her most sensitive of areas.

“It could be important,” says Lexa. “The world could be about to end.”

“Your world will end if you don’t finish what you’ve started,” growls Clarke.

It’s tempting to ignore the phonecall, but rationality prevails in the end. In Lexa’s line of work, she can’t really afford to miss a call. As much as Lexa wants to lose herself in Clarke once again, she would never forgive herself if something terrible were to happen because she ignored her duty

“Go on,” says Clarke, nodding reluctantly in the direction of the ringing phone.

Clarke closes her legs and pushes Lexa’s hand out from between them, reaching for the sheet to wrap around her torso. Though there is nobody apart from Lexa in the room, Lexa is grateful for the modesty that the sheet provides - answering the phone with a half-naked woman in the room is enough of a challenge without also having that woman on full display to provide a very tantalising distraction.

Lexa fumbles around in the pocket of the jacket she wore to dinner last night and takes out the still ringing phone, groaning in frustration as she reads the name of the person calling her and realises that it’s not a work-related call at all.

“Aden,” grunts Lexa, accepting the call and holding the phone up to her ear. “You know how to pick your moments.”

Aden’s voice, at that awkward stage between the gruff voice of the man he’ll grow up to be and the squeaky voice of the child he once was, croaks out, “What does that mean?”

Lexa ignores the question, because even if he wasn’t her brother, at thirteen he is far too young to be able to deal with the concept of casual sex with any kind of maturity, and deflects it with one of her own.

“Shouldn’t you be at school?” she asks, glancing across at the alarm clock on the bedside table and doing a quick bit of mental maths to work out the time difference, concluding that it must still be early-afternoon in England.

Still wrapped in nothing but a sheet, Clarke shoots Lexa a curious look from the other side of the bed. With the phone still held up to her ear, Lexa mouths ‘my brother’ at Clarke, who nods understandingly and then reaches for her own phone to pass the time.

“I got suspended,” answers Aden. With evasive tactics almost as good as his older sister’s, he presses on, “Are you still in America?”

“Whoa, hold up!” exclaims Lexa, getting to her feet and fetching the bathrobe that hangs on the hook on the bathroom door, because being stark naked while she tries to have a serious conversation with Aden just feels a little too weird, even if it’s over the phone. “You got suspended? Aden! School is important! What did you even do?”

“It’s nothing,” protests Aden. “The guy only has a black eye. I could have broken his nose if I’d wanted to.”

If Lexa’s jaw drops any further, it will end up going straight through the floor and ending up in the hotel room below hers.

“You punched another boy?” she gasps, hardly able to imagine Aden, who is as lanky as a baby giraffe and about as uncoordinated as well, getting into a fight with another boy and managing to land a punch to the face.

“Yeah,” replies Aden, “but he was saying homophobic stuff about Roshan in Year Ten so he deserved it.”

Lexa immediately feels guilty for snapping at Aden, her heart filling with a sudden burst of affection for her little brother. Aden has always been nothing but open-minded towards people from minority groups, having been raised in a two-dad household where the idea of homosexuality is about as normal as the concept of brushing your teeth in the morning, and reacting to Lexa’s own coming out with only mild irritation that Lexa interrupted his favourite cartoon with something so inconsequential. As he’s grown older and more world-aware, Lexa knows that he likes to stand up for the things he believes in, particularly when it comes to defending people who are perhaps unable to defend themselves. It’s one of the many things that Lexa loves about Aden, and she tries to remind herself of this fact instead of getting angry that he’s jeopardising his own education in favour of social justice.

“Aden,” sighs Lexa, carefully choosing her next words so that she doesn’t come across as annoyed or angry. “I know you were trying to do the right thing, but that’s not how to deal with situations like this.”

“I know,” replies Aden glumly. “I’ve already heard it all from Dad and Pops. Besides, Jordan’s going to think twice about making comments like that in the future. And so will his mates.”

Lexa doesn’t envy Aden at all, knowing all too well from her own teenage years that there are few things scarier than crossing their dads. Lexa can imagine how angry they would have been upon learning about Aden’s suspension and she can only hope that the reason behind his sudden outburst of anger may have earned him a little leniency when it comes to the punishment at home.

“I’m proud of you for sticking up for the things you believe in, but you can’t just punch other kids,” Lexa says to Aden. “That’s not how the world works.”

“I know,” says Aden, his voice full of remorse. “I’m sorry, okay? So are you still in America, or what?”

Lexa is happy with the change in conversation, satisfied with the fact that Aden will be able to come up with a better solution than violence next time he encounters a nasty homophobe.

“Still in D.C.,” she answers. “This work thing is really dragging on longer than I thought it might.”

It’s deliberately vague. Maybe when Aden is a little older, Lexa will be able to trust him with the details of what she does for a living, but thirteen year olds have enough to deal with - school stress, fitting in, staying safe in an increasingly dangerous world - without having to worry about having a secret agent for an older sister too.

“I miss you,” confesses Aden. “Can we hang out when you get back?”

“How about I ask the dads if you can spend a weekend at mine? I’ll even take you up the London Eye as a treat.”

“Yeah!” says Aden enthusiastically, and Lexa can just imagine his face lighting up. “That would be sick!”

Since she moved to London after joining Kingsman, Lexa doesn’t get to see Aden as much as she would like, particularly when her job sends her travelling all around the globe. But if anything, the distance has only made their sibling bond tighter, as they both grow older and move past petty childish rivalries. It will probably take some persuading to allow Aden to visit Lexa for a weekend, especially now that he’s been suspended from school, but Lexa is pretty sure that her dads will appreciate a weekend to themselves without Aden clattering away at his drum kit at strange hours and filling the house with his teenage boy smell.

“Okay, I’ll talk to the Dad and Pops about it later,” Lexa tells Aden. “In the meantime, don’t get into any more fights. Speak to you later!”

“Bye, Lexa!”

Lexa hangs up the phone and puts it down on top of the dresser, reaching for the charging cable plugged into the adapter in the wall and connecting it to the port at the bottom of the phone.

“How old is your brother?” asks Clarke, pushing herself up off the headboard and folding her legs beneath the rest of her body, the sheet still artfully draped to protect her modesty.

“Thirteen,” answers Lexa, returning to the bed and taking a seat next to Clarke. “He’s a good kid but he’s reached that stage teenage boys go through.”

“And you never mentioned that you have two dads,” comments Clarke, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Oh yeah, I have two dads,” grins Lexa.

Clarke rolls her eyes and nudges Lexa with her knee, as if to say ‘stop it’.

“My mum died when I was three,” explains Lexa. “Cancer. When my dad remarried a few years later, it was to another man. Nyko loves me like I’m his actual daughter and I call him Pops, the same as Aden does. They had Aden via a surrogate when I was nine.”

“I’m sorry about your mom,” says Clarke, reaching out to place one of her hands on Lexa’s thigh where it peeks out from beneath the bathrobe, giving it a squeeze.

“It’s fine,” shrugs Lexa. “I was too young to remember it happening. I don’t really remember her at all. If I try really hard, I think I can remember her presence, but the image I have of her in my head is from photographs and stories.”

“It must be cool to have two dads though,” comments Clarke.

“It is,” agrees Lexa with a nod. “Twice the dad jokes, but I couldn’t ask for better parents. When I first came out, there were a few people who thought that having two dads made me gay.”

“That’s bullshit,” says Clarke, shaking her head to show her ridicule.

“I know. Dad says he had suspicions about me before he even met Pops, anyway.”

Clarke’s fingers draw mindless patterns on Lexa’s leg, and Lexa suddenly finds herself not wanting to think about her family any longer.

“Enough about my family, wasn’t there something you wanted before my phone rang?” asks Lexa, leaning in closer to Clarke and letting the robe slip from her shoulders just enough to reveal her collarbones and the tops of her breasts.

Lexa kisses Clarke languidly, slipping her tongue out and brushing it along the crease of Clarke’s lips until Clarke’s mouth opens in a soft gasp.

“Babe, I want to,” Clarke mumbles against Lexa’s mouth. “But I should probably get back before my parents start worrying that I’ve been kidnapped. There’s a car on the way. It’ll be here in about ten minutes.”

Lexa doesn’t think that she will ever tire of the feeling she gets in her chest when Clarke calls her ‘babe’, and she tries to ignore the ache that follows immediately when she remembers that this arrangement is only temporary, doomed to fail the moment that Clarke realises she’s just a mark and Lexa returns to her home on the other side of a vast ocean.

Pulling back from the kiss, Lexa wraps the robe more securely around herself to cover her naked body and gets to her feet, aiming to put some physical distance between herself and Clarke to stop her from starting something they won’t finish.

“We should do this again sometime,” says Lexa, as she opens the closet and starts rummaging around inside, pulling a pair of dark jeans and a plaid shirt out and draping them across the foot of the bed so that she can search for some clean underwear.

“Go on a date or have sex?” asks Clarke with a smirk.

“Both,” suggests Lexa cheekily. “How about Saturday?”

The teasing smile falls from Clarke’s face, replaced with disappointment that settles deep within her eyes.

“Oh, I can’t,” she says mournfully. “I have this fancy dinner thing on Saturday night. Friday?”

Lexa shakes her head.

“Anya and I have plans.”

It’s a lie, but Lexa can get away with being slightly elusive because of her job. Besides, Anya can probably be persuaded to drop whatever plans she may have in order to make it the truth - Lexa can always pull the ‘it’s for a mission’ card if Anya is planning to spend the evening with Raven instead.

“Damn,” replies Clarke.

For a moment, Lexa worries that it’s all going to fall apart, that all of her wooing and seducing is going to be for nothing more than a series of memories that she looks back on with fondness and longing in years to come.

“Well, there is another option,” says Clarke. “I’m allowed to take a guest to the dinner on Saturday. I was going to take Raven but she bailed to hang out with Anya instead so the place is still going. If you want to come with me, then it’s yours.”

Lexa’s brain sings a celebratory fanfare inside her head, but she tries not to let it show on her face. The last thing she needs is for Clarke to think that the only reason Lexa asked her out was part of a cunning plan to get invited to the dinner.

“Are you sure?” asks Lexa. “Don’t feel pressured to invite me.”

“I want you to be there,” insists Clarke, who wraps the sheet more securely around her body and slips off the bed, traipsing around the room to collect her discarded clothes from last night. “My parents still think we’re dating so it would be completely normal for me to invite my girlfriend. And I know it’s technically only a second date, but it feels like I’ve known you for way longer than I actually have.”

Lexa’s face breaks open into a grin, a genuine one from the knowledge that Clarke actually wants to take Lexa along as her date to a really important political event. When she remembers that this is the outcome she’s secretly been hoping for, Lexa pushes down the gnawing guilt at the fact that Clarke doesn’t yet know that Lexa will be on official work business at the gala dinner.

“Then I’d love to be your date for the night,” she says honestly.

“Awesome,” smiles Clarke. “I’ll text you the details later.”

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” asks Lexa, arching an eyebrow at Clarke, who backs away through the door to the ensuite bathroom with a pile of her clothes clutched to her chest.

“If it’s any consolation, you make it really difficult to go,” confesses Clarke, pouting dramatically as she reaches for the door handle.

And as Clarke shuts herself in the bathroom to get dressed, Lexa flops back down onto the bed with a sigh and her eyes closed, the weight of her feelings for Clarke sitting heavily in her chest with the knowledge that she’s in far too deep now for this to end well when she has to return to England.

[thatweirdmod]

Beriphitar's Pillage 6 FINAL: Okay

Beriphitar's Pillage Chapter 6 - Okay:

The sounds of searching, questioning people torment my ears, but I'm afraid that if I reach up to cover them, my aching body will tumble from the tree branch it lies upon. Why did I ever think it was a good idea to tie myself in a sleeping bag to a high tree branch like I was a resourceful archer, when I didn't even have the vision for how she did it in the first place?

The branch is not even wide enough to turn over, and who knew lying on a round object would make one more likely to roll off? This sucks. At least they probably won't be able to see me all the way up here.

Volunteers and lawmen push through the tangled woods together like the teeth of a comb- a wide toothed comb, however. I can see nothing from my prison of fabric, rope, and leaves, but it is my educated guess that they're spread thinly.

It would take the full force of the town's small population to be spread thick out here. To make the odds better, with how selfish, cold, and apathetic I believe these people to be, they would not bother, not even for a precious human like the one whose camouflaged grave they've probably already unwittingly trampled over. The volunteers, with their untrained eyes, concern me even less than the fat, lazy lawmen.

And then, it hits me in the crotch. This happens when I'm on my back sometimes, when it only seems natural that I should be touching my penis. Against reason, I begin to shuffle my way out of the sleeping bag. If I drop anything, it could lead them to me if they pass by this tree. I scoot out, leaving the bag tied to the tree branch.

I sit up against the trunk, undo my zipper, and take Mr. Happy out of my pants. I'm already really hard. I stroke myself, and it feels absolutely amazing. Unable to resist, I pleasure myself hard and as fast as I can, using my left hand to give extra treatment to the tip of my dick. "Aaahhh!" Within a minute, I spurt semen everywhere with a loud moan.

I feel the world turning, and once my blown mind regenerates, I find myself hanging off the side of the tree branch, tangled in rope. Ugh, I want to leave this stupid tree already. When will the search be over? Who cares about one little female?

I maneuver to straighten my situation out, but I must not have tied the rope as well as I thought, because it comes loose, and I'm tossed carelessly on the ground. I hit hard and with a groan. I try to stand, but find that my knees and one of my ankles are decently fucked up.

I'm so, so tired of all this bullshit. My supplies are left up in the tree. Keeping my ears and eyes alert for any disturbance in the foliage around me, I fight my body, splintering bark, and gravity to get up the tree again. I collect my things and descend messily, exhausted now.

I don't give a shit. I'm leaving these woods. I listen to the dim voices through the thick bushes, leaves, and humus.

I close my eyes to form a picture of the location they're coming from, and set my path so that it doesn't collide with the noise. I knew this wouldn't work, however, and a couple of frayed edges from the spread of seekers brush across me.

Here's where Beriphitar does it again. I lift up the mini crossbow I purchased at some point in my journey, and shoot the 30 year old man right through his neck. While the woman searching with him is wasting time reacting with a scream, I'm loading another bolt.

I fire at her, but she's just gone into flight, so I miss. Fuck. Voices rise in response to her cries. The spider has sensed a disturbance in the web, and is coming to check what's been caught.

Both the brown ponytail woman and I flee, because there's nothing else for either of us to do. I don't even go to harvest my  freshly hunted prey. I'm frustratingly slow, lumbering through the woods in thick winter clothes, and with the bags on my back. I refuse to drop them, though. I've already lost too much.

I look over my shoulder, praying to luck, I suppose, that I don't see those damn orange vests coming in the dank woods behind me. Please, just one more, then this life can end, and my dominant spirit will find a new, free body to reeve in all over again.

The cold air rattles through my sore pipes in shaking, pathetic torrents as I drag my feet forward as fast as I can. I realize with a sense of doom, that I'm going in the direction of the town. I'll be seen for sure, but like I said, just one more. Give me the miracle of 2 minutes and a... oh! That's perfect.

I see luck personified in a female form walking along the path on the outskirts of the wood. She screams as I barrel into her. I pull the writhing, crying girl to my body, and cover her mouth with my gloved hands. "Shut up!" I whisper harshly and hoarsely. "Shut up, and maybe I'll let you live." There is no chance of that, unless someone comes to save her.

She continues to struggle, but I wrestle her down onto the paved dirt. Her feistyness is wasting a lot of my time, so I punch the back of her head and neck until she settles somewhat. I want some fight, don't get me wrong, but I can't handle too much right now. I hear shouts approaching. The sighting of me generated a lot of excitement.

My heart pounds loudly in my ears as I peel the female's tight jeans down her soft flesh. Her underwear digs into her skin as I tear it off. "Please! Please stop," she says, crying hysterically. I pray again no one hears. Just let me get it inside her.

I practically rip my zipper off in my desperation to get my penis out.

Sitting on the back of her thighs, with my hand pressing her head to the packed dark dirt, I stick her like a pig with my dick. I fuck her hard and fast, relentlessly using her ass and pussy to get myself off. I'm still fucking her, begging for one last blow, when from the corner of my eye, I see the first orange vests coming out of the woods for me.

They're yelling things at me, but I'm not looking or listening. My eyes are bound only to the task before me, my wet dick fucking and ruining the reddened, unwilling ass of the crying girl pinned under my weight. Someone is approaching me fast, but I manage it. I manage to keep pumping until I come, and a hard dam bursts inside my balls. The come is still pouring from my twitching dick as people drag me off of the female.

The echoes of wails and accusatory words whirl in the air around me. "Animal." "Crazy." "Are you okay?" "Horrible." It all blends together into human monkey noise. It's meaningless. It's all completed, but they still continue to talk as if something special needs to be done.

Cold metal clicks around my wrists. My arms won't spread from behind my back anymore. Someone hides my penis inside my pants again. I scream in the disturbed faces around me, "Molester!!! Molester! Molester!" until I'm cut off by laughing.

The sound that fills my ears is empty, cold, and hopeless, but it quiets the pointless cacophony around me. The triumphant roar from my chest booms through the open cavern of my mouth as I'm roughly pulled at. I can feel the hatred and hurt in their many clutching hands, the things I've inflicted flooding back against my body.

I cease my final cry of existence, but not because they've told me to. I'm remembering Uorthem. I should've killed him. Strangled him.

I thought that this would've been enough, but a human never seems to have enough, even right after they get their greatest current wish.

My head slumps, and my face blanks. Many such regrets rack me, and shred my heart. I was striding along with the people before, as a graceful loser, but now they have to drag me- a sack of heavy sins and filthy deeds.

I see in my future a strip search, a holding cell, derogation, frowning men and societal scorn, due process, and court rooms.

I only wonder, when in all that, will I be unsupervised with a rolled bed sheet and something high that can hold my weight?

A hundred footsteps pound the pavement. Lights and flashes assault my eyes as I'm crammed into a lawmen's car. So this is how my life winds down, huh? "Whatever," I think, but I still sigh.

So the monster has been caught. Mourning families and general sympathizers will bitterly curse me as the law tries to make me pay. Let them have their moment of unity as a fist, striking down on a piece of particularly concentrated evil in their swarm.

They will never be able to crush it all, not even when they see the dandelions of desire seeding again. It will reset. The joy as the old people recover and/or die, the hatred and the selfishness, and the sadness of the cycle.

[mamajeanetc]

Re-Entry

We have now been expats for just a little over 9 years -- about half of that time in Mexico City and half in Singapore.   As long as I’ve been an expat I’ve heard others talk about how difficult “re-entry” can be -- that going back to your home country after living abroad can be difficult and, sometimes harder than moving to a foreign country -- you’re different from having lived in another culture and people don’t understand that; you miss the sense of adventure that can accompany the most mundane task in a different country, you don’t really feel like you belong anywhere.

I recently spent 10 weeks in the US.  I went to share in the celebration when these 2 wonderful young people married in April -- Ryan, a long-time family friend, and his beautiful bride, Courtney.

And stayed to celebrate another beautiful couple’s wedding in June -- my niece, Ashley, and her husband, Chris.

Between those 2 major events I got to attend Ashley’s bridal shower 

And help with some of her wedding preparations. 

I went on a little roadtrip with Ashley and my dad to see another niece, Adriana, be “pinned” as a nurse and celebrate her accomplishments. 

Of course, no California roadtrip is complete without a stop at In ‘N’ Out for lunch!

I spent most of my time at my dad’s house in southern CA.  It was great to be an hour from Kelsey and get to see her (and Priscilla) on a regular basis. 

And help her with some home improvement projects:

I also drove to Salt Lake City to visit Paul and Maggie for a few days.

And did a little hiking in the beautiful Utah mountains. 

So, why would I have re-entry issues when I’m on an extended vacation and it’s all fun and games?  Good question.   In the 9+ years that we’ve lived abroad, I’ve never found “re-entry” to the US particularly difficult.  There’s a certain comfort in knowing how things work and what is expected and acceptable. 

But there was one area where I did struggle with re-entry.  Over the course of several months prior to this trip I had completed all the requirements and jumped through many hoops in order to get my occupational therapy license in California and sign-on with a healthcare registry company so that I could work during my extended time in CA.  Having not worked as an OT in the US for almost a decade, I found it has changed significantly! 

A couple of months before we left Indiana the home health agency I worked for began providing laptops for all staff so that documentation could be done electronically and accessed from the field.  Knowing I was leaving soon and that the transition would take several months neither the director nor myself felt it was a valuable use of my time to go through the training.  Now ALL documentation is electronic.  I could not just walk to the nurses station and pull a patient’s chart to get information I needed.  I had to go back to the therapy department, log onto a computer and look for whatever information I needed.  This was sometimes a bit time-consuming until I figured out where to find specific information, but I didn’t have to try to decipher the notoriously terrible handwriting of doctors, so that was a plus! 

But, when I had to write-up evaluations or progress notes I found the system very time-consuming, redundant, and limiting.  Once you know how to use the system, you can be pretty efficient if your patient fits all the preset parameters and you can just click on the reset options, but I found that most patients and treatments don’t fit the preset options (which I’m quite confident were not written by a therapist).  I learned how to work around the presets and just write what I wanted to say.  I gradually become more efficient;  I never reached the productivity levels the department manager would have liked, but I maintained my professional integrity by providing more accurate documentation than clicking on the boxes could do and he couldn’t argue with that!

The other really big change in healthcare since we left the US is how insurance works (or doesn’t) and how that effects the provision of healthcare.  My professional judgment regarding how much OT would be beneficial for a specific patient now carries absolutely no weight.  Who gets how much therapy was determined by the director of rehab and facility manager based on who’s got what insurance and how much they will pay.  It is all about the numbers, and there is horrible misallocation of resources (at least in the facility where I was working).

I’m not going to get on a political soapbox here, but I will say that the one thing that scares me about eventually returning to the US is the uncertainty of healthcare coverage.

So, after 10 weeks in the US I returned to Singapore -- on a “Hello Kitty” airplane!! 

Compounded by jetlag and missing my kids, re-entry is always a bit tougher on this side.  Our dogs, Tovka and Lucy, were mad at me for being gone so long.  They ran to the gate excitedly as I got out of the taxi; then they remembered that they were mad at me and pretty much ignored me for the first couple of days. 

Somethings come quite naturally here even though they are very different.  For example, I love having a car and driving when I’m in the US.  In Singapore we use public transportation and it never even crosses my mind that I would like a car here -- parking can be a hassle and it’s extremely expensive, and public transportation is just so easy and convenient. 

But there are always a couple of things that catch me off guard just because I’ve forgotten that things are different here! 

My debit card for our Singapore bank account had expired while I was in the US.  There wasn’t a new one waiting for me in the stack of mail, so I went to the bank the next day to inquire about getting a new one.  Silly me, I forgot to take my passport!  I had my Singapore ID (and my Indiana driver’s license), but they wouldn’t even talk to me without my passport.  The guy did give me a phone number and suggested I call and see if I could order a new one over the phone. 

I called when I got home and learned that my new card had been sent to our old address.  We moved 1.5 years ago and I changed the address. . . . I thought.  But I now learned that even though all our accounts are joint we have to specifically change the address on each account for Tim and for me.  And, of course, I can’t do all of this because I’m just a “dependent” . . . Tim is the primary account holder because he actually has a work visa!!  So, when Tim got home we called again so he could provide all the authorizations needed so I could change all the addresses and get a new debit card.  And then, I returned to the bank the next day with my passport to actually get a new card!! 

The bank is in the same building as the dance studio where I attend aerobics and yoga classes.  I had “frozen” my membership class until the following week, so I wasn’t going to class, but on my second trip to the bank I timed it so the class was just getting out and I could say hi to some of the ladies.  There’s a little cafe there where a lot of them hang out after class.  I was chatting with a couple of the gals when another one walked over and said, ‘You gained weight while you were gone.  Didn’t you exercise?”  Another one offered that she didn’t think I’d gained weight, but that I looked pale . . .  I apparently didn’t get enough sun when I was in California.  A couple more gals joined the discussion which then moved on to the length and style of my hair, which everyone had an opinion on.  I just sat quietly pondering the concept of “face” while this discussion went on around me.

“Face” is possibly the single most important concept in the social rules observed throughout Asia.  It can be described as a combination of social standing, reputation, dignity, influence and honor.  Causing someone to lose face lowers them in the eyes of their peers, but giving face increases their self-worth.  It is really important that you never point out a mistake or cause someone embarrassment, as that would cause them to lose face!  But, clearly, what might cause embarrassment for a local is different from what causes me embarrassment and after almost 5 years, I still just don’t get it. 

The following week I returned to the place where I volunteer on Thursdays -- a day program for intellectually disabled adults.  My return there was pretty much a mix of my previous experiences -- the clients were thrilled to see me.  A couple of the staff snubbed me (like the dogs) my first day back.  One of the teachers threw her arms around me and gave me a big welcome back hug, then stepped back and said, “You look so different . . . so pretty!”   Hmmmm . . . thanks?  A couple of others jumped in on the discussion of my appearance and came to the conclusion that I looked “fresh”.  OK, I’ll take it!

I’ve been back for a month now and apparently I’m “back in the groove”.   I have access to cash, I’m getting plenty of exercise and sun as I walk to the bus stop, and nobody is either blatantly ignoring me or discussing my appearance in front of me as if I can’t hear.