#and smelling the lemon cleaner from the room she just cleaned

[mediumgayitalian]

i keep seeing sad posts talking about "may castellan making sandwiches every day waiting in hopes that her son will return" and.

guys.

there is no hope for may castellan. she is not waiting at the door with lunch and a tentative smile, waiting for him to come home even though he didn't yesterday, or yesterday, or yesterday, or yesterday. "in hopes" implies that there will come a day when that hope fades. in hopes implies she knows the odds are bad. in hopes implies reality will eventually catch up to her.

there is no hope for may castellan.

she is not waiting in hopes for her son to return. she is preparing, day after day after day (after day after day after day after day after) for the inevitability that luke will return to her. she does not know he is dead. she does not understand he is gone. she does not realize that time has passed; to her luke is nine, still. to her she is still placidly awaiting to return of a fourth grader. luke is not nineteen and betraying his camp. he is not twenty and housing a titan. he is not twenty one and watching his friends get slaughtered in an arena, twenty-two and forcing his sister to hold up the sky, twenty three and realizing, soul shuddering in his chest, that he has made a mistake he can never take back, that he can never undo what he has done.

luke castellan to his mother is a child who has not yet lost all his baby teeth. the cookies she makes for him are soft, because she remembers that. he still leaves the crust behind on his sandwiches. he has scrapes on his elbows and dirt on his nose. he flinches before he hugs her. he spends a lot of time outside, but he comes home before dark.

may castellan's tragedy is not that she is penelope waiting for odysseus to one day return and we know that he will not. may castellan's tragedy is that she does not understand her hero has left at all. may castellan's tragedy is that she will never understand, and she will continue to age, and continue to deteriorate, and one day she will die and she will spend eternity walking the dying poplar fields, whittled down to the memory of something missing from her.

there is no hope for may castellan.

[lavenderbexlatte]

day 3: mirror sex

stray kids 1.5k words gender neutral reader insert Reader x Bang Chan NSFW

🖤 warnings: undernegotiated kink, implied consent, themes of negative body image🖤

🎂 happy bang chan day~

kinktober masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

Truly, these are the dangers of not pre-booking a place to stay.

Last-minute travel isn't usually your thing, but an unexpectedly long weekend means that there's finally time in your favorite guy's backbreaking schedule for a little getaway.

But last-minute travel, with no hotel booked, means love motels.

They're not as creepy as they sound, not usually dirty or weird. Inexpensive, yes, and usually a little older than the resorts and boutiques that most people prefer. They get a bad rap just because of the connotations, but like, people have sex in all kinds of hotels.

You think it's kind of cool, honestly. Homey, in a weird way.

The person at the front desk is a nice older lady, and she doesn't even blink as she asks if the two of you have any plans this weekend.

"Plans outside the room, I mean."

She winks. She's not subtle, but it's sweet.

And now, in the elevator, Chan is looking around in unmasked horror. Taking in the garish burgundy interior, the thinly-veiled adverts for sex workers taped to the walls.

"It's not that bad," you say.

"It'll be fine for two nights," Chan replies, sounding as if he doesn't believe that at all. "Anyway, we're only sleeping here. We'll have stuff to do."

"Oh, come on. We might as well put the place to its intended use."

Chan scoffs, as if the idea of using the sex motel for sex is ridiculous.

"As long as the room's clean, that's all I care about," you continue. "It's a hotel. Whatever."

"Whatever," Chan agrees tentatively.

He's still lying to himself, but he does relax a little.

When you get to your floor, things are extremely normal. Nondescript hotel decor, the faint smell of carpet cleaning solution and lemon furniture polish. Cleaner than other places you've stayed for far more money, honestly.

The room itself is at the end of the hall, which you like, for the privacy, even though there are only five or six rooms on the floor.

You let yourself into the room, and it's as clean and fresh as the rest of the hall. Again, about as good as it gets in terms of a cheap hotel.

"See?" you say.

Chan looks at you, clearly unimpressed.

"What? It's clean. I'll check for bedbugs, but other than that..."

He points upward.

There is a giant mirror stuck to the ceiling above the bed, but nowhere is perfect.

"Even that's clean," you joke.

The surface of the glass is spotless, no fingerprints and not even any dust that you can see from down here. Chan still looks unhappy. Cleanliness is obviously not his concern.

"Don't be a downer," you say.

"Why do people like that?" he grumbles.

You've set your bag down on the armchair in the corner of the room, rifling through it for your toiletries to set out in the bathroom, but you humor him without looking. "Like what?"

"The mirrors."

"In the room?" you glance at him. "Isn't that, like, the sex motel cliche? The heart shaped bed, the red lights, the mirrors?"

This room only has one of the above. Pretty tame.

"It just means you have to - I mean, you can already see your partner, why would you need-"

"You're really thinking about this," you interrupt.

He is. He really is, standing beside the bed and staring up at his own reflection pensively.

"It's so you can see yourself," you add, walking past with your armload of cosmetics.

From in the bathroom, you hear his answer, still pouty.

"Why would I wanna do that?"

Oh, here we go.

"Some people get off on it," you say.

He scoffs a laugh, humorless. You're being generous by not calling him out, here, because he's being self-deprecating. You hate that.

"I'm gonna terrify myself in the middle of the night," he says.

That might be true. He's a little bit of a scaredy-cat. But that's beside the point.

"That's not your actual problem, though," you reply, as you come back into the room proper.

He shrugs.

"Haven't you ever been curious?" you ask.

"About what I look like?" he shoots back, glancing back up at the mirror. "Done. Wow."

"I mean during."

Immediately, like flipping a switch, his ears flame pink. "Not really."

"No? Never?"

He looks at you pointedly. He knows what you're doing. You're not subtle, so that's fine.

"We should find out," you say, grinning.

It's a challenge, now.

Your gorgeous, gorgeous boy hates how he looks. That's common knowledge for anyone who's tried to get him to take a photo together, or shop for clothes, or compliment him on a new haircut. Most of your mutual friends just ignore it. But sometimes you just can't stand it.

He would never be the type to want to see himself in the mirror in the throes of passion, uninhibited. Which is exactly why he needs to give it a try.

"How easy do you think I am?" he accuses, correctly.

"I dunno." Instead of bothering him more, you flop down onto the bed yourself, feet still on the floor, staring up at your reflection. "You tell me."

The bait is laid, and like always, his insatiable ass can't help it. You two haven't had proper alone time in what feels like forever. He nudges between your knees, standing over you as you lay there on your back. You already like the look of the scene in the mirror, the way that his reflected form looms, the way it makes you look small.

"You know," Chan says, "We could put this place to its intended use."

You grin at your own words recycled. Great minds and all that.

"What an idea."

"Just an idea," he assures you.

He drops onto his knees, nudging you up the mattress to make room for himself.

You almost lose track of your own plan, once he kisses you. Hands roam, clothes are lost, the ease and comfort of something you've done so many times. For a while, it's just an encounter like all the others. His hands that know you, his warmth and presence and attention.

And then you remember, suddenly, once you're nude and he is too, and he's asking you how you want it.

"You on your back," you say, trying not to smile at your own ingeniousness and reveal the plan.

"You got it, baby."

He flips over, and he's settled fully into the pillows with you halfway onto his lap before he looks up. He looks up at the ceiling, and he realizes.

"Wait-"

"Gotcha," you smirk, settling fully on top of him.

He could very easily just knock you over and change things up, or he could ask you to stop, and of course, you would. But he doesn't. He just flushes, red again down his ears, his neck, and he covers his face with his hands.

"That's not gonna work," you say, peeling his fingers away from his eyes.

"I can't believe you tricked me," he says pitifully.

"I did no such thing," you reply. "But now that we're here, why don't we play a game?"

"Something tells me I won't like this game."

"Here's the rules," you say.

You pause long enough to rise onto your knees, to seek out his length - desperately hard, revealing that you haven't freaked him out too badly - and line him up.

"I'm gonna make us feel good. And you...have to look."

Chan pouts, putting his full lips to good use. "I'd rather look at you. Don't you want me to look at you?"

He punctuates it by running his hands up your back, hips to shoulder blades, soothing attention from gentle fingertips.

"I think you should look at yourself," you tell him.

"But-"

"Actually, no. I think you have to look at yourself," you decide.

He peeks upward. His flush deepens.

You're not sure why he doesn't like what he sees. From where you are, it's stunning. His slim body lines, the sharp cut of his face and his dark eyes against the bleached-white hotel sheets. Distractibly, biteably pink and embarrassed.

"If you don't look at yourself," you add, dropping your hips just enough so that he can feel you, "I'll stop."

He looks overdramatically betrayed, like a dog when you take their toy away to throw it. It's cute enough that you reach down to squeeze his face in your hand.

"That's the game," you say.

"Fine."

His voice is an embarrassed squeak, but that's consent, baby. You trust him enough to know that although he hates losing, he's not going to yes you to death if things are actually feeling uncool.

Permission granted, and his eyes dutifully trained on the ceiling, you ease yourself down onto his waiting length.

Curiously, once you're seated and he's swearing through his teeth, you tilt your head up to look at yourself, too. The angle isn't as good to see you, but you've got the gist of it. Your spread thighs, your arched back, the little bit of motion as you grind on top of him.

Nice.

"Don't we look good?" you ask, sweet as can be.

He nods against the pillow. "You look-"

"Not me," you tut. "You're not supposed to be looking at me."

Chan swears. You wait.

"I...I look..."

After a second, he swallows, and squeezes his eyes shut.

Pity.

You pull back up onto your knees. His wet cock slips free.

"I told you the rules. Keep looking at you."

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Warnings: Read chapter 1 for warnings. posting two chapters today just because chapter 11 was so short in comparison! Beware... chapter 13 is when things start to get heavy again </3

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock

Chapter 12

[Prev] [Next]

While Law was busy with work, Shachi and Penguin had become more akin to doting brothers than friends during your post-op care… but today your apartment was bustling.  Penguin had taken the liberty of using your phone to invite Ikkaku, who brought Nami and Usopp in tow.  As you laid in your bed fighting off a mild headache, the sounds of chattering and cleaning in your apartment filled your closed off bedroom.  At one point, something heavy had clattered against your kitchen floor, followed by harsh shushes warning the perpetrator of keeping silent so you could catch up on sleep.  Not like that made a difference.

You checked your phone that was set charging on your bedside table.  1:00PM.  You were thirsty.

Standing, you grabbed your empty glass and began to pace out of your room and toward the kitchen.  Your recovery had been incredibly swift, and you had achieved a total of five days off from work with the help of the weekend.  Your incision site healed quickly with a barely-visible scar, and while you still had a bit of recovery left, you had begun to feel much more like yourself.  Helped in part by your official diagnosis: endometriosis.  Not that you were surprised by that, but it definitely felt good to have an actual answer to your troubles.  The few cysts that were found on your ovary were also benign, and your call with Dr. Robin to discuss your results left you feeling surprisingly refreshed.  Things felt like they were finally starting to look up.

You rounded the corner of your apartment and entered your living area, the smell of pine and lemon-scented floor cleaner invading your nostrils and making you grimace.  Your gaggle of friends were seated around the kitchen table, digging into more left-over chocolate chip cookies that, at this point, had to be beyond stale.  

“Hey, there’s the woman of the hour!” called Usopp.  “Sorry if we woke you up.”  He flashed a toothy grin as he popped a cookie into his mouth.

You smiled, meandering to the sink to refill your glass with fresh water.  “Nah, it’s all good!  Thank you guys for cleaning up and spending time with Bepo, I really appreciate it, you know.”

Nami leaned back in her chair, tossing her arm over the back of it to twist her torso and gaze at you.  “It’s no problem at all, it’s the least we could do!  You deserve all the rest you can get after everything that’s happened.”  Her friendly grin quickly morphed into one of mischievous intent.  “Though, if you wanted to Venmo me, I wouldn’t say no.”

“Nami!  The poor woman is struggling!” Ikkaku placed a firm slap to Nami’s shoulder, making the red-head wince.

You were laughing as you approached the table to sit with your friends, politely denying the stale cookies that were offered to you.  “No no, she’s right.  I’ll think of something I can do to repay all of you for all the help you’ve been to Law and I.  I don’t feel right not treating you guys back in the same way.”

Shachi stretched his arms above his head and cracked his knuckles, uttering a deep groan at the feeling of his shoulders extending.  “Give your future kid my name, and we’ll call it even.”

“No fair, I wanted my name passed down!” shouted Penguin.

You sputtered a laugh against the lip of your glass.  It still filled you with a bit of discomfort to discuss the topic of pregnancy so soon, but your friends’ lighthearted attitudes made your feelings a bit easier to cope with.  “Not to disappoint, but Law and I already have names picked out.  None of you were on the list.”

Two disappointed sighs came from your husband’s best friends, but Ikkaku excitedly leaned forward against the table with her head in her hands.  “What are the options?”

You circled one of your fingers around the rim of your glass.  “Law really wanted his family to be honored in some way, so right now our favorite choices are Cora, Rose or Rosa, and Lami.  He said he felt a little strange having our kid’s first name be his sister’s, so if we have a daughter her middle name will probably be Lami.”

Usopp sighed dreamily.  “He’s so sentimental, isn’t he?”

Ikkaku giggled.  “Never say that to his face, though, or he’ll–”

The front door cracked open.  From the corner of the room, Bepo picked his head up.

“Say ‘what’ to my face?”  Law entered his apartment with a grouchy expression, closing and locking the door before shrugging off his light jacket and placing his hat on a hook behind the door.

“Hi, honey!” you called, your eyes immediately lighting up at the sight of your husband.  “You’re home early!”

Law stretched his back and wobbled toward the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing an energy drink from the door.  “Well, I had a surgery this evening, but the patient ended up coding.”

Nami cocked her head.  “What does that mean?”

“He croaked,” replied Law, taking a sip and assuming a protective stance behind your chair.  “Can’t perform surgery on a dead guy.”

“Aw, that’s too bad…” Ikkaku chimed in, her excited posture manifesting into a more forlorn slouch.  “You must see that a lot, huh?”

Law shrugged.  “Not really, most of the time it’s elderly people who die before they get treatment.  It’s hard when you’re old.”

You reached a hand up behind you, placing it on your husband’s shoulder.  He took his free hand and wrapped it around your own.  “Well, I’m glad you got to come home early.  Everyone spent the entire day cleaning the house while I was in bed.”

“Is that why it smells like pine cleaner in here?” he asked, somewhat confused.

“Usopp spilled the bottle on the floor,” Nami piped up.

“It was an accident,” the curly-haired man replied with a perturbed hiss.

—

The plate of cookies was discarded, the kitchen was finished being cleaned, and your friends had all departed for the night, leaving you and Law cuddling alone on your couch as a brain-dead comedy rerun played on the television.  Bepo remained on his plush bed in the corner, his entire body upside down and snoring away peacefully.  You laid against Law’s chest as his lean hands ran up and down your sides, ghosting the skin beneath your cotton shirt with pleasant electric tickles that made you stifle a giggle occasionally.

“Hey, can we talk?” Law asked, eyes still trained on the television, but clearly not absorbing any of the half-assed jokes and canned laugh track.

“Yeah, of course,” you replied, shifting a little against his body to face him.  You reached over his head for the remote that was sitting on the arm of your couch, pressing the power button to turn off the television and envelope you and your husband in a calm silence.

Law smiled weakly, his golden eyes now trained on your own.  “Did you get a call back from your doctor?”

You nodded.  “I do have endometriosis, and the cysts on my ovaries are benign.  She actually said they were quite small and said if they started causing me more trouble, then they could be dealt with.”

Your husband ran his hand over the back of your head.  “And how do you feel about that?”

You sighed, leaning your head against his chest, listening to the way his heart thrummed against his rib cage.  “I feel… strange.  It’s weird to know that this entire condition was under the radar for my entire life until we started wanting to have kids.  And everything’s been happening so quickly, sometimes I feel like the entire world is spinning around me.”

Law hummed.  “I bet… it’s been a hard few months.”

You closed your eyes, your own hand trailing fleeting touches up and down his shoulder.  “Thank you for sticking with me, Law.”

Your husband picked his head up to gaze down at the top of your head.  “Why would you have to thank me for that?”

“Well…” you began, struggling to form words.  You felt too ashamed to face him head-on, and chose instead to keep hiding your gaze in his chest.  “We’ve been married for over two years, and I still haven’t been able to give you a baby like we’ve wanted.  So the fact that you’ve stayed with me–”

“Let me interrupt you right there.”  Law’s tone was firm and authoritative as he interjected.  “Do you remember what I told you before I got my own test done?  That I’m your husband and that I refuse to leave you over an idle issue?”

You dug through your brain’s memory bank, finally settling on the vision of the two of you in much the same position as you were now.  You smiled faintly.  “Right, the issue that might be resolved.”

Law pinched your cheek in his fingers.  “Will be resolved.  And do you remember what we promised each other on our wedding day?”

“Law, why are you quizzing me?” you questioned, voice barely higher than a whisper, as you finally lifted your head and made eye contact with your husband.

He didn’t answer you, instead continuing his own train of thought.  “On our wedding day, one of the promises we made to each other was ‘in sickness and in health.’  I feel sick to my stomach when I imagine a world where I leave you over this.”  His hands continued rubbing your back as he spoke.  “No one could have predicted this outcome.  No one could have ever expected a reality like this, but it’s a reality that we’re sharing.  I’m happy without children just as I’d be happy with children.  What matters the most to me right now, at this moment, is that you’re still here with me.  Right now, your health and wellbeing is more important than any hypothetical child.”

Law’s words were rapidly provoking heavy, salty tears to well in your eyes, which quickly overflowed down your cheeks and into the fabric of his shirt.  One of his hands caressed your cheek, feeling as your jaw shifted and you sniffled away the snot that was also forming in your sinuses at his words.  You blubbered, a weak smile crawling onto your weary lips.  “How do you always know how to make me cry?”

Your husband’s chest bounced slightly with his own chuckle.  “You bring the sap out of me.”

You laughed into his neck.  “For someone who claims to be shit with emotions, you’re surprisingly eloquent.”

He responded to your words by placing a tender kiss on the crown of your head.  “Well of course.  I need to make sure I keep my wife smiling, after all.”

After a few brief moments of gentle caresses, your tears subsided enough for you to ask, “When we get the okay from my doctor… Do you still want to try again for another baby?”

Law smiled.  “For as long as you want to keep trying, so do I.”

[bunbeeplays]

The Lemon Legacy: Generation 1, Chapter 102 - The Past, Present, and Future, Part 2

The Lemons meet up at a nearby bar to get some hang time in with the Sistems and Celeste.

Fan: OMW it's really her!

Marcie: Sometimes I forget you're a celebrity! Look at you and your stans!

Ophelia: Maybe they're cheering for you! You're an author, right?

The girls chat while the guys play foosball. At least until they're interrupted.

Paparazzi: Hey, over here!

Ophelia: Oh, Brytani Cho must be around here somewhere.

Celeste: I'm pretty sure she's taking pictures of you, honey.

Oh wow… She is! That's never happened before!

Ophelia's feeling confident, so she decides to tell the pap off.

Ophelia: I'm trying to enjoy time with my friends! I signed up for this, but they don't need to have their faces plastered all over whatever trashy rag you work for! Get you and your stupid little hat out of here!

A few fans ask Ophelia to sing one of her songs in the lounge upstairs, so she obliges.

Xander: Mars, look! Ophelia's latest song went viral. That's why there's paps and fans following her!

Marcie: Oh my Watcher… Ophelia's a B-Lister!

After this new revelation, the gang decides to take the party back to the rental so they can have some privacy. Plus, this means Gemma can be part of the fun!

Joaquin helped himself to a taco from the fridge. He knows how to party.

Gemma doesn't seem as shy tonight. She even babbles at Joaquin a little bit. She must be getting in the party mood!

Celeste: I can't believe we're hanging out again. I missed my bestie.

Ophelia: There's no reason we can't pick up where we left off!

Celeste: I'd love nothing more, girly.

Gemma ignores her mom and her old new bestie hugging. She's feeling the groove!

Xander made cherry bombs for everyone! He and Ophelia get the first two.

Xander: I'd say this trip got a lot more fun, huh, Mrs. B-Lister?

Ophelia: I know! I can't believe it!

Xander: I can. It was only a matter of time.

Xander: You look gorgeous tonight by the way… But I think that dress would look better on our bedroom floor.

Ophelia: Xander! We have guests!

Looks like at least two of them are pretty distracted.

Xander: Come on, I know you've got flirty moodlets too.

Xander: What if we just went back to the room for a bit so I could give you one of my world-famous massages. I know the paparazzi stressed you out.

Ophelia: Well… That does sound nice. Alright fine, just a massage.

She downs the rest of her drink before they go to their room.

Meanwhile Gemma's been left unsupervised for the first time in her life so she's wrecking the bookshelf and everything on it that she can grab.

Yeah, the massage didn't last long.

Marcie: Hello, cutie. Where's your mommy and daddy? I actually haven't seen them in a while.

She lifts Gemma into her arms.

Marcie: Don't worry, you can hang out with me, Joaquin and Celeste. I'm sure your parents around here somewhere.

Oh, don't worry about Xander and Ophelia. They're doing just fine.

After their trip, life goes back to normal for the Lemons. Ophelia does some chores around the house while Gemma naps, but cleaning this nasty sink is making her feel sick. Maybe it's the smell of the grime or the cleaner, but either way, she feels like she's going to puke.

Looks like it was more than just a feeling.

Ophelia empties the contents of her stomach into the toilet, the wave of nausea overtaking her.

Ophelia hasn't felt this sick since she was…

Oh.

OH.

Ophelia immediately waddles down to Xander's nectar cellar to tell him the news.

Ophelia: Honey, do you have a second?

Xander: Sure thing, Lemon Cake, let me just finish this last bottle up.

Poor sap has no idea what's coming.

Ophelia approaches him, hands behind her back.

Ophelia: You know how we've been talking about redecorating the nursery since Gemma's going to be a toddler next week?

Xander: Yeah?

She pulls the pregnancy test out to show him.

Ophelia: Well, we might want to keep the nursery.

Xander stares down at the test, studying the results.

Xander: This is real, right?

Ophelia: Of course!

Xander: We're going to have another baby!

He pulls his wife close and kisses her, the joy from the announcement overtaking him. Another little Lemon is on the way!

[genderflu1dwh0r]

Cat!Jade

This genuinely made me very happy to write, especially the end.

Enjoy <3

Tori brought home some groceries, she was a bit excited cause of what she bought. She unlocked the front door and opened it, smelling the lit cinnamon candle in the kitchen. Once she walked in, she bumped the door shut with her hip and went over to the kitchen. Setting the bags down on the counter and hearing Jade running over.

Jade was already down the stairs and over into the kitchen, grabbing at the bags and trying to look through. Tori slapped her hands and clicked her tongue. "Jade, calm it." She said smiling and taking out the stuff to put in the fridge. Jade huffed and sat down on a stool. "Did you get me candy?" She asked, getting impatient, her tail swished hard. Tori nodded. "Yes ma'am, don't worry." She said shutting the fridge and turning to her. "And other things." She added and grabbed a bag of catnip out.

Jade's eyes lit up and tried to grab it from out of Tori's hands. Tori brought the bag back and smirked. "You have to wait." She said holding the bag tightly, while Jade got off of the stool and tried to wrestle for it. Tori knew how Jade acted once catnip was introduced. So, Jade ended up on her back on the floor and was pinned. Tori kissed her forehead. "You. Need. To. Wait. Please." She said getting up, going through the bags again. Pulling out a plush mouse and ripping the tag off, tossing it to the living room that was a few feet over.

Jade looked at Tori deadpan. "I'm a grown woman, I don't-" she got cut off by smelling the catnip in the toy, she immediately went after it and got busy. Tori giggled and kept getting everything prepared. She pulled out other cat toys and had set them on the counter and got all the food and drinks in the cabinets or fridge. She loved pampering her girl, it just felt so nice to her. She loved showing her affection. She took all the tags off of the toys and grabbed the laser pointer, smirking. She pressed the button and shined it around the floor, Jade looked over and was enthralled.

She ran over and tried to get the red dot. She was in hunting mode. Tori was happy, she turned the light off and went over to the front door, taking her shoes off and setting them down. She slid her coat off and hung it on the hook. She looked over to see Jade getting to all of the toys and tried to open the catnip bag. Tori made her way over and took the bag. "Hold on a little longer." She said taking the bag to another room and putting it in a safe, she did this because pure catnip really fucked with Jade.

Catnip toys were only a little better for Jade than just pure catnip. So Tori had to keep it in her safe. She walked out to see Jade with her face pressed into one of the toys as she laid on the floor. Tori laughed and went upstairs, she went into their bedroom and saw that it was way cleaner than this morning. Jade had cleaned the room and organized everything. The books looked neater, their desk had a shine to it, the room smelled like lemons, she assumed it was from some febreze. Tori smiled and sat down on the bed then laid back, sprawling out. She loved the feeling of a fresh bed.

She didn't know how tired she was until she woke up two hours later, she groaned softly as she looked at the clock on their nightstand. "9:39pm. Great." She sighed as she sat up, stretching, rubbing her eyes. She was in that state where she didn't completely understand where she was, but she also did. It was dark, except for the moon shining and lighting the space up. She heard the doorbell and pouted, she wasn't ready to talk to anyone yet. She was tired and had just woken up. Most importantly, she was still in her jeans. After 30 seconds, she got off the bed and gradually went downstairs. She was met with Jade taking a pizza from some delivery guy and paying. Once Jade shut the door and turned to the kitchen, Tori spoke up. "You could have woken me up to make dinner." She mumbled, walking over to Jade and sleepily cuddling her from behind.

Jade smiled softly and set the pizza box down on the counter and opened it, taking a slice out and looking at Tori. "I could have, but you work too hard for me to do that. I want you to be rested up and feeling ok. I'll only wake you up if I have to." She said taking a bite and getting comfortable in her girlfriend's arms, her tail lightly swaying. Tori hummed in response before pressing her face into Jade's neck and sighing. "Thank you for dinner." She whispered and kept her hold. Jade purred softly, taking another slice and holding it for Tori. "No problem, baby. Now, would you want to watch a movie or TV while eating?" She asked, liking the feeling of Tori's breath on her scent glands.

Tori took the slice from her and bit into it. She nodded, letting go and walking back upstairs. Jade could tell that she was tired, she grabbed the pizza box and moved it to the coffee table in their living room. She started to get the couch comfortable with their blankets and pillows and turned the TV on, trying to think of what all to watch.

Tori wanted to change first before cuddling and watching TV. She decided to eat her slice of pizza first though. Once she was finished with the slice and had changed, she went back downstairs. Jade had gotten the couch all set up and the TV had some options of what to watch on it. She had set out the cinnamon candle that was in the kitchen to on the coffee table. Two glasses of wine were set out and two water bottles. Jade really did care for this girl, she would do anything to make her feel at ease.

Tori smiled and teared up a little, feeling strong emotions while tired was difficult. She got over to Jade and hugged her from the front, wrapping her arms around her neck and burying her face into her hair. She whimpered and just held on tight. Jade rubbed her back and kissed her head, she has had to deal with this situation more than once. She swayed them gently and combed her fingers through Tori's hair, making sure everything was going to be alright.

Jade reached down a bit and picked Tori up, making her way to the couch and sitting down with Tori on her lap. She leaned back and just held the girl, she waited for Tori to get comfortable enough to talk. A minute passed, Tori loosened her grip and pulled back a bit, looking into Jade's eyes. A smile formed and she laughed softly. "Sorry, I just love you." She whispered. Jade smiled with her and rubbed her back. "There is nothing to be sorry about, I love you too." She then gestured to the space next to her. "Want to sit so we can watch TV and eat?" She asked.

Tori raised her brows, nodding. "Oh yeah, I forgot." She giggled and slid off of Jade's lap and cuddled up next to her. She reached over and grabbed another slice of pizza, her gaze making her way to the TV. "Can we watch..." she thought about it. "Friends?" She said, taking a bite. Jade nodding, grabbing the remote. "I would have never watched this show without you demanding it so much." She joked, sort of. Tori scoffed a bit. "I don't demand." She said looking at her, ready for a playful argument. Jade laughed and nodded. "Sure, Mrs Bossy. You are very demanding." Jade said turning the show on and looking at her.

Tori smiled, playfully punching Jade's shoulder. "Maybe that's why you are always moaning my name." She teased, taking a bite and watching the show. Jade stuttered before laughing. "Oh, so we're going there?" She was so ready, she was prepared for every response. Tori nodded. "Mhm." She hummed triumphantly. Jade let her have this one, she grabbed a slice of pizza and bit into it as she cuddled into Tori. They got through a few episodes before they were both asleep on the couch, cuddled up in each other's arms and were happy.

[returntosaturn271995]

Saturday, July 23rd: Pretty in pink...no wait, I went on a run in humidity and now my face is pretty pink.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Ted Cruz on my run today. More specifically how much I hate him and how much politics revolves around a grown man’s opinion on The Barbie Movie. Texas’s infrastructure is crumbling, but sure let’s call Barbie communist. Barbie. Communist. Barbie, a name so associated with capitalism that even the shade of pink in the logo is trademarked. A name so synonymous with a registered marketable persona that no one names their kid that anymore. Like Jesus or...Adolf. 

But yeah, Barbie (circle the R) and the movie designed to sell toys. Communist icon.

Anyways, I was so wrapped up in how stupid that was that I’m pretty sure it turned the green juice in my stomach sour and I almost shit my pants on my run. Again. 

I wish I were joking. 

After a cold shower and shameful googling I’ve come to the conclusion that I have runner’s trot. Which happens as people start to develop long distance running habits (yay!...wait.). Seriously, why does no one tell you how disgusting it is getting in shape? Next time you see a fitness influencer, just be glad you can’t smell them. They will tell you how good you will feel and look, which I do, but what they won’t tell you is that after the first three miles of running you will start to sweat from your actual asshole. 

I didn’t even know we had sweat glands down there. I’ve have had sex my entire adult life and nothing has made me need a thorough shower more than 30 seconds of jogging in humidity. 

Also a bug flew directly in my face. This is unrelated, but also has never happened to me just sitting in my room. Happily rotting away. 

There’s no such thing as “good, clean, sweat”. We are covered in bacteria and oils. I have a runner friend who judges people who drink and do the occasional drug- yeah she’s great at parties- and she’s always talking about how nice clean living is and working out. Bitch, you do hot yoga. That’s just paying $40 to sweat from your vagina for an hour, how much cleaner than me could you possibly be? She looks amazing, but that’s fucking disgusting. 

I’ve done hot yoga, and the only part I liked is when everybody lies down on the floor at the end like a suicide cult sponsored by Lulu Lemon. 

Add the fact that cardio jumpstarts your metabolism and green juice is essentially a kale colonic and it’s basically a stomach flu that damages the cartilage in your knees. 

Anyways, if you’re reading this years down the line and feel bad about not going to the gym that day, just be happy you don’t have any spandex to wash. 

In other news, Nate ran a marathon today at a pace of 8.17 minuets per mile while micro-dosing acid. 8.17. Like the fuck. Was he on psychedelics or Compound V?? (No word on if he felt like shitting himself at any point.) 

My primary focus today is health and comedy. It was health and peace but then I got bored. I even updated my computer background to David Rose in his baseball uniform to remind myself that fierce bitches can always surprise you even if you were picked (rightfully so) last as a kid. 

Some things I’m proud of today:

Didn’t stop running when my headphones gave out, just ran back home and put in new ones. 

Dragged out the trash bins even though it’s technically no one’s week. (When living with roommates this actually makes me a saint, I expect to have a candle lit in my honor next to the communal water dispenser). 

Made myself a basic ass sandwich from the rapidly aging fridge ingredients (check the expiration dates on your pickles and mustard)

18 minutes of yoga and 10 minute meditation on simplicity has me feeling calm without alcohol or weed.

Updated the Beamer’s car registration, have a fancy new duvet for my bed, and brand new shampoo and conditioner to keep my hair from getting hay-like

Load of laundry, cleaned out fridge, and didn’t spend a cent today

[dontfeeltoohot]

Prompt for Eddie being allergic to something in Steve's house (maybe cleaning supplies or air freshener??) and as the night goes on he sneezes more and more.

Optional bonus Steve has a sneeze kink and is trying not to go feral as Eddie becomes an allergy ridden mess

❤️ Bewitchedfeathers

siodjfsadoijf my brain lost it at this. thank you for this prompt, i love it so much. i hope you enjoy!!

+ + +

Steve, Robin and Eddie, walk through the Harrington's front door, bags of food in their arms for tonight's festivities. It's October and it's Friday the 13th. They've been talking about it all week, now that Eddie works at the Family Video with them some days, when he doesn't have band practice or DnD. Not only did they grab the first Friday the 13th, but the next three as well, keeping them hidden in the back so they'd have their copies ready when all the others inevitably got rented out the next few days. Now Friday was here, and the only thing they were going to do was veg out and enjoy the horror to come.

As they make their way further in, all three are hit with the very intense smell of fake lemon Lysol cleaner. Both Robin and Eddie wrinkle their nose, but Steve seems unphased.

"Uhh, Harrington? Wanna explain why it smells like the inside of cleaning bottle in here?" Eddie sets the bags of food down, going through them to find whatever stuff needs to go into the freezer. Steve's working on preheating the oven.

"Oh, our cleaning lady who usually comes Wednesday's couldn't this week, so she came today," the nineteen year old shrugs, obviously used to the manufactured smell.

"Well, it smells gross, and she should use like eighty percent less next time," Robin adds, setting the VHS tapes down over near the Harrington's large television, at least, the largest most of them have seen in someone's living room.

Eddie loves teasing Steve as much as he can about it, and really about anything he can, in hopes of catching one of those signature Harrington smiles. Every time he gets one, it makes him feel a little bit lighter, like the world almost ending was worth it to have met Steve and actually get to know him. He'd thought he was a mindless jock back when they'd gone to school together, but he was still a hot mindless job. And now they're....friends? He hopes Steve considers him a friend, after all they'd done together.

Eddie rubs at his nose with the crook of his finger, a vague, barely there buzzing in sinuses as he shrugs his vest and leather jacket off, revealing an old long sleeve black shirt. It's worn, soft, and usually reserved for sleeping, but watching movies is close enough since they'll all be sitting and enjoying for over five hours.

As they all talk and joke around, Eddie watches Harrington, who looks like a natural as he pulls out Totino's pizza rolls from the oven, a whole large bags worth sizzling on the tray. Eddie wonders if they should have bought more, but then he remembers they still have chips and cookies and candy and soda. He sees the small box of Honeycomb that he'd grabbed for himself after much deliberation and grins, knowing the whole box will be gone by tomorrow.

"I don't see how you eat those things Munson, they're literally just sugar."

Looking up, the guitarist sees Harrington snarking at him, so he sends him his most flirtatious smile.

"You are what you eat I guess," he winks and then smirks when Harrington's cheeks go red.

It's no big secret that Eddie likes guys and girls, and he's been beyond grateful everyone here seems pretty chill with out. Robin had even come out to him earlier in the month, and he's made sure not to talk to anyone else about it, not when she seemed so worried.

As he watches Harrington try to come up with a reply, Eddie can feel an itch start to unfurl in his head and sinuses. Sniffling does the exact opposite of what he's been hoping, and the intense lemon-y smell hits him full force. He tries to follow along with whatever snarky comment Harrington finally shoots back at him, but the ticklish feeling is cresting, making his eyes want to close. Quickly, he brings his left arm up, nestling his face into the crook of it.

"n'GKt! h'GKkt! h'NKt-uhhh!" He keeps his face buried the whole time, even though there's a few seconds in between each sneeze. The last one is hard enough that he lets out a thick sigh after. He's always sneezed in triples, for as long as he can remember. His parents would bless him the first time, but by the third time there was usually a 'shut up' or 'can you stop' thrown into the mix. Not his fault his nose takes more time.

Dropping his arm, Eddie sniffles again and takes the bandana he has in his back pocket, rubbing his nose gently with it before sticking it back in its place. He doesn't notice Harrington staring at him while he does so, but once he's bringing his head back up, the other man gives him a sort of smile.

"Bless you."

"Oh, thanks," Eddie nods and heads to the sink to wash his hands before making himself a plate of pizza rolls and Doritos.

+ + +

Steve and Eddie sit next to each other. Well...Steve sits down, Robin sits on one side and after he looks around for a moment, Eddie choses to sit on the other side of Steve, for which the middle man is half excited and half nervous. Never in a million years would he have ever thought he'd be attracted to Eddie Munson, yet here he was, his stomach full of butterflies as the curly haired man sits next to him. Steve can smell his cologne and it's intoxicating to say the least.

He's embarrassed to say he's always thought Munson was kind of...dirty and grungy, even if back in classes he'd never talked to him or paid him much attention. Now though, now he sees just how nice and white his teeth are, how good his skin is, how soft his curls look. He always smells good, and for the most part his clothes are always clean. Even when Steve had worn his vest back months ago, it had smelled good even after being out in the woods for god knows how long.

As the movie starts, it's silent aside from the movie and everyone eating. No one talks, mostly focused on the food. Five minutes in, however, Steve picks up on a few soft sniffles coming from his left. And god, if Munson sneezes again, next to him, he might combust. Sure he finds sneezes hot, that's just...a thing he's always known. Nancy's sneezes had been surprisingly not dainty like he'd imagined, but they suited her and were definitely cute. But Munson's sneezes...he's never paid attention to stifled sneezes much, at least, not until twenty minutes ago. Something about it just...wow.

The sniffles don't get loud by any means, but they don't stop either. Steve's pretty sure his whole body is thrumming with some kind of weird energy, half watching the movie and half listening to Eddie. Finally decided to chance a glance at the guitarist, he notices he's sitting with his legs drawn to his chest, arms resting on them in a way that doesn't look super comfortable, but hey, to each their own. What really catches his eye though, is the way Eddie's nose is scrunched up, like he's trying not to sneeze. He gives another sniffle, this time rubbing his wrist that's hidden under his soft looking shirt against the underside of his nose.

Not able to look away, Steve's heart starts beating hard, watching the way Eddie's nostrils twitch and he rubs at them again. It's like watching someone lose a game- they twitch again, and then finally his eyebrows knit together, and his eyes flutter shut, showing off his long eyelashes. With one more twitch of his nose, Eddie inhales, his chest expands, and his arm is brought up against his face again.

"h'kGktt'uh! hh-gkXT! hih'KXxt'uh!"

A sniffle and then Steve watches him rub his face into his arm, quickly turning back to stare at the television the second he sees the arm move back down. He decides not to bless him this time- he has a feeling Eddie cares more about horror movies than a simple gesture.

Shifting, Steve moves enough that he can see the screen, but also can easily see Eddie and his movements without being obvious, or at least, he hopes to god he isn't. How awkward of a conversation would that be. He thinks maybe he'd rather get eaten by a demodog. Not three minutes later Eddies scrubbing at his nose with his knuckles, his shirt sleeve pulled up over his hand, his fingers only barely visible. He looks ridiculously cozy. Steve kind of wanders if he's a good cuddler, he looks like he would be. Lost in his thoughts about cuddling Munson, Steve doesn't realize anything's happening until-

"nkGxtt! h'dKGt! ihgKT'uhh!"

Steve's not sure if it's just his imagination or if the sneezes sound stuffier, but the sniffle after definitely confirms he's congested. It's thick and soupy and before Steve can do anything, Eddie's snagging his bandana from his back pocket and pressing it tightly to his face.

"h'GKt! hih'gKtuh! ihh'KTsch'uhew! Fuck..."

His insides are melting, he's sure of it. He can already feel his pants getting tight, and his palms are sweaty. The fact it's all happening beside him too, it's making him jittery. He wants to ask if he's okay, wants to ask if he can help. Hell, he wants to ask if he can jump him, but instead he misses his opportunity.

"Are you okay?" Robin beats him to it.

Eddie looks up, big brown doe eyes meeting hers and then flickering to Steve's. He's still holding his bandana, but it's resting against his lap for now. Steve notices that his nostrils are still twitching in allergic anticipation, and if he really zero's in, he can vaguely see a light sheen on his cupids bow. Eddie blinks and his hand that's not holding his bandana comes up and rubs at his eyes, making him look far younger than he is.

"Y-Yeah, sohhmethings...just," he sniffles but this time it's more desperate. "Just gehhttihng to me..." His eyes are fluttering and his nostrils are twitching like crazy, quivering and obviously itchy. Steve shifts, trying not to just blatantly stare, if only for Robin's sake.

"hih'Ktschh! ihh'gTCH'uh! h'kgt'uh!"

"Dude, do you w-"

"Nohht done H-Harri'gton...h'GKkt! Jesus Chrihhst..n'gXKTuhew! hihdKXtch! hah'KSTCHuhew!!"

As soon as the small fit ends, Eddie blows his nose roughly into his bandana, rubbing his nose over and over. Steve bites his tongue almost hard enough to draw blood so he doesn't let out any other noises.

"You want some benadryl? My parents keep some in the cabinet, I think it'll help. Do you know what's bothering you?" Steve finally manages to come up with words while Eddie scrubs his face with the neck of his shirt.

"Uhh, sure. N-Not suhhre, think mahhybe the cleaner?" Eddie sniffles and rubs a little harder. Steve nods and gets up, going to find the pills. As he walks, he tries to think of things like his parents, or showing up to class naked, anything to help get him to calm down. He comes back with water and two pills, then freezes. Eddie is looking at Robin with a curious expression, eyebrow raised. Robin is half blushing.

"-n't know that was a thihhng- kTSCH! hih'GXKtt! h'ixschh'EW!"

The last sneeze is louder and surprisingly...girly? And Steve squirms again. Then he notices Robin looking even more weird and Eddie smirking. And...oh. OH. Is this a joke? Some kind of new hell? But then again, he and Robin could always have fun with it...but. Really?!

Steve thrusts the pills into Eddie's hands and then mumbles something about going to the bathroom, needing a minute to himself.

[thisisthefanfic]

Hi! I was wondering if you could maybe write a nsfw fic for dom!Hunter with female reader

👉🏻👈🏻

Sorry this took so long! Hope you enjoy!

Senses

Pairing: Hunter x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, piv sex, oral fem receiving

“What the—?! It smells like lemons in here!”

Shaking your head, you couldn’t help but snicker as you turned to see the bewildered clone standing in the doorway, gasping as he looked inside. “Yes Wrecker, because I’ve been cleaning.”

“Why?” Scoffed Crosshair, pushing past Wrecker to give you a questioning look.

“Because it’s my job?” You gave him a confused look. “Have you seen Wrecker and Tech’s bunks? They’re a little....messy.”

“I do hope you didn’t misplace my things.” Tech spoke up as he stepped in, followed by Echo.

“C’mon guys, she was helping us out here,” Echo said as he gave you a smile. “Your stuff is right there Tech. Everything is fine.”

“Thank you Echo, I—“ your sigh of relief was cut off when you noticed the last member of the batch walk in, Sergeant Hunter. He visibly tensed and winced as he took a breath, coughing a bit as he regained his composure.

“Ah...the smell is a bit strong,” He finally spoke, his brow still furrowed as looked over to you. “But it’ll settle in a bit.”

“I’m so sorry Hunter I forgot about the whole...enhanced senses thing. I should have used unscented cleaner.” You sighed, rubbing your temple as you mentally slapped yourself for the mistake. How could you have forgotten his enhanced senses? It must be ridiculously strong for him, and of course you had to mess up in front of him of all people. He was only the most attractive and loyal men you knew, and you were head over heels for him.

“Nah it’s alright,” he gave a reassuring smile, coming to put his hand on your shoulder as he passed by to his bunk. Leaning a little closer he added. “Thanks for your help (y/n), you did a good job. I’m just glad it doesn’t smell like dirty socks in here anymore.”

You tried desperately not to tense up at his proximity, and the way his voice rumbled, making your toes curl. Hell he was too much, he hadn’t even said much but you were putty in his hands.

“Well...I’ll let you all get settled. Um, Goodnight!” You gave them a timid smile before dragging your cart out the door, looking anywhere but at Hunter.

You spent the rest of the day cleaning out barracks’s for the other clone squadrons, making small talk with some of the ones you were closer with, but your mind was still on Hunter. Clone Force 99 was your favorite and least favorite squad that you were assigned to. Whenever the other cleaners complained about their assigned squads, you just chuckled at the knowledge that they’d never have to try to clean out Wrecker’s bunk. Despite their messiness, they were the most fun to hang out with in the cafeteria, and they were all nice to you, with the exception of Crosshair being standoffish and Tech being constantly busy, but you didn’t mind.

“Finally! We’re done for the day!” Your friend sighed with relief as she clocked out, removing her apron with a grin. “You gonna go see your sergeant boyfriend?”

“Hey! The only thing I’m going to be seeing is the showers,” you responded, rolling your eyes at your friend. “I think I deserve it after the long day I had.”

“Well maybe your boyfriend will join you.” You tossed your apron back at your companion after her last remark, rolling your eyes again as you headed to the fresher.

Knowing the more private showers were in a more secluded area, you walked there to avoid being met by dozens of troopers, but there was still one problem. You had to pass by Clone Force 99’s room on the way, which meant you might see Hunter and end up embarrassing yourself again. Luckily for you, nobody came out, which gave you enough time to slip into the fresher.

You took a quick shower, not wanting to take up too much time in case some of the Bad Batch was planning on using it, and to avoid giving into temptation and touching yourself. You quickly dried your hair and threw on your sweat shirt and pants, eager to get back to your room.

Stepping out back into the hall, you were abruptly stopped when you ran into something solid. “Woah, sorry I didn’t see you there (y/n),” came the voice of the one man you didn’t want to encounter like this. “You ok?”

Hopping to the side, you tried not to blush at the sight of Hunter standing there, only clad in his blacks as he looked at you questioningly. “Yeah! I’m ok.” You rubbed the back of your neck, avoiding his gaze.

“Sorry I should have been looking more carefully,” he responded, a small smile forming on his face. “I hear you’ve been working hard today, you gonna get some rest?”

“I hope so.” You chuckled, fidgeting as you waited for him to pass you.

“Well you deserve it, you’ve been doing real good mesh’la.” He practically purred as he passed you, his eyes boring into yours for a brief moment, and then he was closing the fresher door.

You rushed down the hall to your room, looking for the door just past the sergeant’s barracks, slamming the door when you were finally in the privacy of your room. Your cheeks were burning and your hands shaking as you yanked your top off, feeling far too hot far too fast. You didn’t know if he meant to rile you up or not, but his rough voice talking to you like that...you couldn’t handle it.

Wiggling out of your sweat pants, you took a few deep breaths before sitting down on your bed, trying to process everything. You wanted to feel him, have his hands on you and in you. Before you even knew what you were doing, one of your hands was reaching down your panties to touch yourself, gasping at how wet you were.

“Fuck it.” You groaned as you slid under the covers, laying on your back as you moved to touch yourself again, your nipples hardening as you shivered. “Fucking...stupid man...” you groaned in frustration, letting out a sharp gasp as you found your clit, pressing on it as you arched your back. “Damn you.....Hunter.”

You dipped a finger down further towards your entrance, whining as you slid a finger in, another weak curse passing through your lips as you squirmed. “Hunter....”

The knot in your stomach was starting to unravel, your whines getting higher and louder as you chased your orgasm, when suddenly you heard a thud. Jolting, your free hand went up to clutch the blanket to your chest, your eyes wide as you waited to hear what was going on.

“(y/n)?” A strained voice called from outside your door. “Can I come in?”

Fuck it was Hunter. You started to panic as you called back. “Hunter! I um, I’m not decent right now. Sorry!”

“(y/n)....I heard you say my name,” he said, making your heart sink. “Please let me in.”

“Ok...come in.” You sighed, dread filling you as anticipated his disappointment. Already feeling tears gather in your eyes as the door slid open, but as it closed you were met with an interesting sight.

Standing in only a low slung towel, Hunter was leaning against the door, his eyes dark and focused on you as his chest rose and fell. He stepped closer and inhaled, his pupils blowing wide as he looked back at you. “Fucking hell.....I can smell you,” he groaned, taking a step closer, his fists clenched at his side. “I was just going back to bed, but...fuck I could hear you, and then I started smelling you.”

A whine slipped out of you as you watched him come closer. “Hunter...please.”

“What do you want mesh’la?” He hummed, “If you want me to do something, I have to hear you say it.”

“Please...touch me,” you moaned. “Fuck me.”

In an instant he ripped the blanket off of you, making you gasp as the cold air hit your heated skin. A rumbling groan came from him as he leaned over and spread your legs, his hands reaching up to tear your panties from your body. A gasp had barely left you before he was spreading your legs further, running his rough fingers over your folds before he lifted your legs onto his shoulders.

“Gonna make you feel real good mesh’la.”he grunted before spreading your folds apart with his thumbs, leaning in to run his tongue through your slickness. You let out a loud moan as he lapped into you further, his tongue dipping into your entrance as he ate you out like a starved man.

“Fuck! Hunter!” You cried out as he moaned in pleasure, his fingers digging into your hips as you shook.

“Mmm you taste so fucking good,” he groaned. “So wet for me.”

You felt yourself approaching your high, gasping as you were about to tell him so, but then his nose bumped into your clit and you came with a cry, your juices coating his mouth and chin as he held you through your orgasm. You didn’t know how long you were shaking from it, your vision slowly unblurring as he set you back down.

You looked down to see Hunter tossing his towel off, your eyes widening as he wiped your juices off his mouth with his hand before licking the hand clean. You barely got a good look at what he was packing before he was crawling up your body with a feral growl, pinning you down to the bed as he hovered over you.

His lips soon crashed into yours, making you both moan into the kiss as you tasted yourself on him, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he rutted into you. The kiss was deep and desperate, both of you shaking from intensity as you gripped onto him.

He finally pulled back, taking deep breaths as he looked at you. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groaned. “You ready to take me?”

“Please.” You breathed out.

“Please what? What do you want?” He teased, rubbing his hard cock against your swollen folds.

“Please Hunter! Fuck me...I want your cock.” You whined, watching his eyes darken again as he repositioned himself. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours as he slowly rocked his hips into yours, stopping once he was fully sheathed.

You could barely stay still as he tried to steady himself, his eyelids fluttering as he let out a small gasp. “You’re so tight...gonna...gonna fuck you real good.”

He kept his forehead to yours as he pulled out and slammed back in, his hands gripping your sides as he rocked back and forth. Your mouth opened in a silent cry as you felt him hit your sweet spot, your hands moving to dig your nails into his back as he moved faster.

“Hunter....oh fuck...” you whimpered as you leaned up to kiss him again, his thrusts getting sloppy as kissed you back.

“Cyar’ika...I’m not gonna last long,” He rasped as he reached a hand down to circle your clit. “Come with me. Please.”

A raw cry was ripped from your throat as your second orgasm crashed over you, your body arching off the bed as you shook. Hunter cursed as he felt you clench around him, letting out a choked moan before he spilled inside you. Your pussy felt absolutely stuffed and sore when he was done, and you let out a small whine when he pulled out, feeling your mixes spent drip out of you.

“You ok?” He gasped, reaching down for his discarded towel to wipe you both off.

“Yeah, more than ok.” You replied breathlessly, giving him a shy smile.

“I’m uh sorry if I wasn’t very gentle,” he murmured with a blush. “You drive me wild and I couldn’t stand it. I hope I didn’t hurt you....”

“No, not at all Hunter,” you reassured him. “I liked it...and you.”

“Yeah?” He chuckled as he laid down next to you, looking over your face. “Well I’m glad you do. If I’m being honest...I’ve loved you for awhile.”

“I love you too.” You grinned, joy flooding through you as you looked back at him.

“You better get to sleep now (y/n),” he hummed as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “But can you promise me one thing?”

“What is it?”

“In the future, try to remember I have enhanced senses yeah? I get a feeling it would help you to remember.”

Taglist: @myblogisatotalmess @katiebits1 @longearedowlfromouterspace

[fantasmalforces]

@mxttlemxde SAID: "—you wouldn't happen to sell used cars, would you?" || from Eric @ Piper right now 🔫

“Not usually, no. But it just so happens that today’s ya lucky day, love.” Piper grinned, hopping down from the step stool she used to help her see over the counter of her front desk. She moved over to the wall behind her, finger grazing over several labeled box drawers in the wall until she found the one she was looking for. She let out a little cheer, quickly yanking it open to retrieve several photos of vehicles that looked to be in pristine condition. Bringing them over, she placed them in front of him with a detailed lists of their specs.

“Local dealership in the city does trade-ins but their lots full for right now. Any used cars that get sent their way are getting dropped onto smaller businesses to make room. Something about needing the inventory space for a hot spring sale. Their loss.” She shrugged. “Your gain though. I’ve got five vehicles for you to choose from. All new parts, new tires, new wiper blades, good AC, sparkling clean interiors, and fresh off the line in terms of body work and paint. None of ‘em have more than 50,000 miles. Practically new, the lot of them. Take a look, let me know if there’s any that catch her eye and I’ll l take ya out to the garage to see them up close.” She offered before backing off to move to the far end of the counter and organize some of the stacks of skateboard wheels that were on display.

It felt somewhat strange. The shop - Wheels to Wheels - was essentially split in half. On one end we’re racks and racks of tires, rims, car equipment, paint colors, tools. The other half of the store had nothing but bike parts, skateboards, roller blades, and scooters on display, as well the necessary tools and accessories for each of the transports respectively. It was neat, organized, and very clean. Rock music filled the store at a low volume, as did the smell of lemon-scented cleaner. The shop and it’s outdoor garage sat on the corner of a desolate strip mall, the rest of the suites empty save for sign holders and letters painted on each of the tinted glass doors. Rentable spaces. It seemed a friendly little place, if a bit lonely. And was it just her here?

[cherryfinolahobbes]

For Wong and Cherry if you want :)

The lights in the Sanktum dimmed. A rush of wind rattled the windows, as a flesh of red caught in the corner of their eye.

Someone was watching, lurking in the shadows. To the left a pair of pots fell off the wall. They clang together but didn't hit the floor, caught and stayed aloft by a soft crimson glow.

"Sorry. I didn't intend for that to happen." A familiar voice told them from exactly the opposite of the room. The shadow dissipated and revealed the Scarlet Witch. No longer adorned in garments and a crown, but regular clothes, jeans, sneakers a long cardigan that reached her knees. Red energy glowed in her hand as she lifted the pots and hung them back to their original place, standing there awkwardly.

(from @itwasthescarletwitchallalonh )

Wong frowned as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Would there never be a moment of peace? Cherry and himself had been enjoying a quiet conversation as she finished cleaning a couple coffee cups.

Quiet moments like these were Wong's favorite. Just a little slice of domestic bliss as the sun came through the windows reflecting in the soapy water in the sink. The smell of coffee and the lemon cleaner Cherry preferred to use still hanging in the air. He was close enough to smell her perfume; vanilla and florals, a warm undertone of musk, as he stood by her elbow. Cherry rattled off a couple things she wanted to go into town for, turning her face to him and for that moment the world stood still.

A moment was never long enough as the windows rattled and the lights flickered. He put himself between whatever was happening and the soft woman without a thought, dark eyes keen as he tried to pinpoint what was happening when several of the pans closest to the rattling windows were dislodged, but they never hit the floor.

Wong felt his jaw tighten so hard he thought he'd crack his teeth as a young woman manifested. He'd know her even without her crown and garments.

"You've got a lot of nerve showing up here," He growled, hands raised, ready, his mind already racing on what spells to cast. "What do you want?"

[greenninjagal-blog]

Deja Vecu

Hello, its been a while!! Please accept this release of the unpublished scene from Chapter Two of Deja Vu. Its basically 4k of Remus being gay for a stranger he keeps seeing die, and ain’t that a mood? :)

Summary: The Missing Scene in chapter 2 of Deja Vu, in which Remus agrees to help a stranger rob a casino.

Words: 4397

Read on Ao3 || Hero Worship Series || My General Writing Masterlist

At twenty-one years old, Remus finds out that robbing a casino is a lot less fun than Ocean’s Eleven led him to believe. It’s almost ridiculous the amount of security that went into protecting the chips and the cash on hand: following the path of the cash box from earlier, there’s two hired security guards framing the employee’s entrance, neither of whom like being touched nor can be persuaded to leave their posts together. There’s a card reader locking the door which despite looking like walnut wood, is actually steel with a clever paint job. And that’s just the first level.

“Predictable,” Dee says from where he had made himself comfortable on Remus’s bed with the complimentary note pad the hotel had supplied him. He had left his suit jacket on the desk to avoid the wrinkles but lounged on the foot of the bed without taking off his shoes. Remus had tossed himself down next to him, stretching out to gather all the pillows and built a throne for himself like he was eight instead of twenty-one.

Dee had watched him, back to wearing the face of the man who had approached him in the casino. Remus thinks he looks nice like that: hansom enough to please anyone who looked his way and charming enough to disarm anyone who might have seen him as out of place and forgettable enough that Remus couldn’t remember if they had gambled together previously.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Remus had pointed out. “I know what the real you looks like.”

Dee’s pen digs into the paper a little harder than necessary and Remus pretends he hadn’t noticed. The smile he receives is light and joking but it doesn’t meet his eyes at all. “I happened to like this appearance.”

Remus hums, “Lame. The scales are cool.” But he had let it drop in favor of twisting the purple casino chip between his fingers.

Dee taps his pen on the comforter in thought, his borrowed blue eyes distant as he mulled over Remus’s reports from futures that won’t happen. “What else did you notice?”

“Tessa isn’t your wife anymore, Danny.”

Dee snorts, which, by all means, should not be as graceful and elegant as he makes it seem. There’s a fluidity to the way he dips his head and scribbled on the pad of paper that makes him looks dignified. Or maybe that’s just the angle that Remus is looking at him with. A lock of his dark hair slips into his eyes and he brushes it back with two gloved fingers.

Remus falls back against the stack of pillows he had built around himself, breathing deeply and settling himself. The air smells like the lemon cleaner that the hotel staff had used to clean his room earlier when Remus had been out and about, but there’s hints of something else—something sweet and spicy with an undertone of wood.

--Dee blinks at the question, shifting so that he’s lying on his stomach, his head resting on his palm. “I wonder,” He says, with eyes so bright and blue and innocent that Remus feels like he’s stuck in them, “if you mean the Cardamom scent from my aftershave.” And Remus’s heart beats just a little faster, a little harder, a little more.—

“When I ask what else you notice,” Dee says, drawing Remus back to the present, “I meant your other senses. You’ve told me about what you’ve seen. What about sounds? The smells? You said you experience this as a first-person thing, correct?”

Remus waves a hand. “Its both. I’m there in person but I’m also having an out of body experience, too.”

Dee squints. “Doesn’t that…get confusing? How can you interpret all the stimuli at once?”

“Stimuli! What, are you a scientist in your free time?” Remus mocks, but Dee’s shoulders tense at the insinuation.

“You don’t have to tell me.” He says, “I was just curious.” He’s not, though. Remus isn’t quite sure how he knows, but Dee’s curiosity is more than just a simple question. It feels like it’s more, like he’s gathering information and sorting it away for later, like he’s making decisions based on Remus’s answers that have nothing to do with the how they are going to get into a Vault protected by a six digit code that only three people have and then get back out with more money than they can physically carry.

“Shame,” Remus says, feeling the shift in the bed as Dee’s shoulders unwind. “If you were a scientist you could dissect me for all the goodies inside! Of course, you can do that without being a scientist, too, but it’s not as fun.”

“Are you speaking from personal experience?”

Remus flips the coin in the air and catches it with the same hand. It comes up heads. “Why, does that scare you?”

Dee watches him, the pen absently twirling in the air between them. Remus can feel the weight of his gaze like a physical thing, pressing on his chest and making him self conscious of exactly how many breathes he’s been taking. The cotton comforter has a square pattern on it that he hadn’t noticed before, but he can count only three squares between the two of them. For some reason that information feels important.

“No,” Dee says after another moment passes and the air simmers. “I supposed it concerns me.”

Remus swallows the urge to laugh at his face.

“You just seem to be a useful person,” Dee continues, defensively. “I would hate to see that usefulness be squandered.”

This time Remus does laugh and it’s a bumbling bubbling burst of noise in their quiet world. His lungs shake and his heart hurts, but he laughs and something about it makes Dee’s smile softly too. The air is light, but there’s an underlying tension there, lurking in the shadows and reminding Remus that for all the dashing good looks and the semi honest expressions, the man before him is a stranger wearing a borrowed face and absolutely no one would miss him if he disappeared.

He flips the coin again, watching it roll over itself too many times to count, bounce off his hand and then flop to a stop direction between the two of them. Dee pokes it with the butt of his pen, like he was expecting it to get up and walk away.

“To answer your question,” Remus says, breathing in deeply enough to smell his cardamom aftershave and wondering why no one else in his twenty-one years of living had thought to ask him. “Seeing the future does get confusing. But it’s whatever. It never causes anything worse than a nosebleed.”

Dee hums and scribbles something down on his notepad. If Remus sat up just slightly, he would be able to see it, but he finds he likes the mystery more. Was it notes to use against him? Or was it things to think about in the future? Or was it still the colossal list of numbers they weren’t even a fraction of the way through?

--They manage to draw the guard’s attention away with a faked emergency: Remus never put stock in his own acting skills so he stumbles and falls on another patron and lets his head crack against the corner of the a craps table just far enough away that the guards are drawn the few steps over to check on both of them. Remus doesn’t bother responding to any of their prompts until Dee with the face of Tim the dealer swipes his borrowed card and lets the door behind him close. They had radios from the same place where Dee had procured the keycard from, and Remus thinks he could fall asleep listening to Dee’s breaths.

“Left, right, or center?” Dee asks.

“Left,” Remus hums, watching the casino patrons around him. A woman in her thirties just won at a baccarat table and tried to kiss the dealer. “There’s a camera at around the corner, but it roves. Your future self said to wait five seconds then go.”

Remus waves down a waitress and orders a mojito while he waits. Dee gives soft laugh at the concept and Remus tries to calm his nerves.

“You’re so uptight,” He says softly, almost to the point where Remus can’t hear him over the chattering of other people. “Relax a little, Remus. It’s just my life.”

“The Elevator code is 7-1-3-2,” Remus tells him. “And you’re going to want change your pretty little face to someone of a higher ranking on the casino hierarchy unless you want Terry Benedict to know what we’re up to.”

Remus holds his breath as the elevator dings, and then as Dee repeats the code as he types it in, and then as the doors rumble closed. He twists the glass of his drink when it comes as he listens for the subtle clues on how far Dee is inside the belly of the beast. It takes him a moment to realize that Dee is humming softly, and his lips twist into a smile without his permission.

There’s some garbled conversation on Dee’s end, pleasantries and greetings and nice things that Remus never bothered to memorize. Dee glides through the conversations with ease, deceiving and grifting like he had been born to do it. And who knows? Maybe he had been. Polite conversation gets them through another three doors, including a hall wracked the cameras and the final elevator that can only be opened with two keys and a pin code graciously provided by an aware high-level friend that followed them in and was still chatting about their Perfect Child’s first steps.

Remus sips his mojito and watches the girl at the nearest roulette table eye the betting board. She’s still going to lose so Remus finds himself more entertained by trying to extract the lime from his drink than from watching her pout yet again when the ball lands on the red 36.

“Ah yes, the vault code,” Dee’s voice says, dragging Remus back to the mission at hand. He’s casual, loose, and ready, and Remus doesn’t understand how he does it. He glances down at the piece of paper in his hand and reads off the six-digit combination that was next on their list.

“5-1-3-2-7-6,” Remus presses a hand to his earpiece, listening as closely as he can. His breath shortens with each second, crafting infinities out of each passing tick. He can hear Dee’s laugh and his he listens closer he can make out the guard that’s next to him still chattering away. Each button bings when Dee presses it in, soft and charming and not at all like a guillotine that’s cut their mission off a hundred-some times before.

“Hey man you, okay?” The person with Dee asks, less out of curiosity and more out of suspicion.

“Yes sorry my finger slipped,” Dee says quickly and punches in the next number in ascending order out of blind hope that it might be the correct one but it isn’t and Remus knows it because that’s when the person next to Dee asks him to back away and demands to know who he is and Dee’s placating answers are never enough so he tries to shift but bullets are faster than he is and Remus rips out his ear piece right before the gun goes—

“Another bust,” Dee sighs, drawing a snake on the corner of his paper. “Somehow I feel like we could win more playing on the casino floor than doing this….” He trails, off eyes distant again, thinking more about money than about the number of deaths Remus has witnessed.

It seems strange, that Remus would care so much more about that then he does, but in a way that doesn’t surprise him. Its Death with a capital ‘D’ and in Remus’s twenty-one years of experience, the only people who feared death were those who were aware of how close it was. Remus was practically best friends with Death, with the taste of the asphalt on the highway, with the feeling of a free fall, with the awkward fit of a hotel bathtub. He’s familiar with the cold silver of fear, but it doesn’t make him any less afraid.

Dee knows he keeps dying, though. Dying alone, deep inside a labyrinth of a building and Remus wonders if he should stop this while he’s ahead. He knows once that half hour mark hits in the future there’s no more Dee to be waiting for, no pay out. Just the pain of seeing a swarm of S.W.A.T. officers covertly weave between the patrons and leave with a human sized black bag. But Remus still waits and watches, holding dutiful vigil over a fruitless endeavor and letting hope build just for it to shatter with reality.

“Why does this mean so much to you?” Remus asks, somewhere between the fifteenth and the hundred fiftieth casino themed wake procession. His eyes burn a little, and he tries to tell himself it’s just the brightness of lights.

“Money is everything,” Dee marks the next two number off his list on his notebook and talks without listening to his own words. Its not fair that he sounds so convinced it’s true, when his mouth moves like he’s practiced this in the mirror. “What about you? Why do you continue to watch?”

Remus sinks back on his pillows, holding on to that faint scent of wood and spice and the feeling in his gut that comes from every time Dee listens to his advice from the future, from every time Dee listens and adheres, from every times Dee just believes.

Remus wonders how so much trust could be from this stranger who’s known him for an hour or two, and yet Roman had never been able to just accept what he said without an argument. He sounds crazy when he talks about what will happen, but Dee just nods and lets his lips twitch into a smile when handing him a roll of toilet paper.

Remus rips off another length the cheap paper and folds its in half before shoving it on his face. There’s blood in his mustache, which is frustrating and tastes just as gross as all the other times he’s had blood dripping down his chin.

“Remus,” Dee says, without looking up from his notepad.

“Yes, dearest stranger taking up half my bed?” He inhales hard.

“This is a fourth, at most.”

“Tomayto-tomahto.”

Dee shoots him a look that he can just barely make out around the clomps of flimsy paper he’s holding to his face. He looks like he’s trying not to be amused. Which is funny! Because, well, Remus can’t remember the last time someone who wasn’t related to him was in his company long enough to find him amusing.

“Why are you doing this?” Dee asks. “Other than the money, which we agreed would be a fifty-fifty split, regardless of how much we manage to walk out of here with….but somehow I don’t see money being enough for you to watch me die over and over again. Otherwise you wouldn’t have stopped me from lunging for that cash box.”

Remus is twenty-one when he shrugs and says, “It’s something to do.”

Dee huffs another dazzling laugh and for a moment Remus thinks he can see a flash of sharpened teeth in that smile, fangs like a vampire come to life, but it’s too fast for him to be sure. “Ah, I see we’re both liars tonight. Ready for the next attempt?”

Remus wonders if it’s still lying when its technically the truth. He’s doing this because its time spent with this shapeshifting sham, this enlightening enigma, this confusing con artist who lies as easily as breathing. Remus has a hard time believing anything personal he says is true, and yet he finds himself eyeing the three squared spaces on the comforter again wondering if it would be too much to make it two, one, none.

For someone who trusts Remus to see the future seven billions times as they try to figure out the vault code, who follows every direction Remus gives without hesitation, who continues to act as if Death is not something that can happen to him, he is extraordinarily hard to trust in return. Words are meaningless because he flaunts them, and Remus grew up watching Roman practice lines enough to know when someone was acting. Dee probably isn’t even his real name.

But Remus…Remus hasn’t been seen the way that Dee sees him before. Isn’t that enough for him to want to spend as long as he can with this stranger? Regardless of the danger Dee is running straight into? Regardless of the slight thrill that he gets from the prospect that they might get away with this?

-- There’s some garbled conversation on Dee’s end, pleasantries and greetings and nice things that Remus never bothered to memorize. Dee glides through the conversations with ease, deceiving and grifting like he had been born to do it. And who knows? Maybe he had been. Polite conversation gets them through another three doors, including a hall wracked the cameras and the final elevator that can only be opened with two keys and a pin code graciously provided by an aware high-level friend that followed them in and was still chatting about their Perfect Child’s first steps.

Remus sips his chocolate martini and watches the girl at the nearest roulette table eye the betting board. He knows from all the other times he’s watched that she loses, although as he peaks over at the numbers she’s never far off. It must be that excitement of the near win that keeps her there.

“Ah yes, the vault code,” Dee’s voice says, dragging Remus back to the mission at hand. He’s casual, loose, and ready, and Remus doesn’t still understand how he does it.

“5-1-3-3-4-1.”

He can hear Dee’s laugh and his he listens closer he can make out the guard that’s next to him still chattering away. Each button bings when Dee presses it in, soft and charming and not at all like the bells of victory when the code is right, holy shit. The Code was right. Dee’s breath catches in his throat, and Remus nearly drops his martini on the floor. His heart races in his chest with an emotion that he can’t quiet put a name too.

They did it.

They…won. Remus makes his way towards the doors where they were set to meet back up, and Dee continues a casual conversation with the armed guard about children as he fills both his briefcases with as much money as he can fit. By the breathless excitement in his voice, Remus can guess there’s more money in front of him than he expected to be able to get. He invites the guard over for family dinner next night because he’s an asshole and Remus finds that quality admirable.

He waves down a waitress to get a second drink, Dee’s celebratory drink, because as soon as he got past the doors they were home free-

“Hey! Hey! Stop him!” A voice yells in Dee’s ear and the shapeshifter curses.

“Remus!” He yells, “The executive is in the halls! He-!”

There’s a gunshot and a thud and Remus rips out his earpiece and screams loud enough to make all the nearest games freeze in their tracks—

“Let me guess,” Dee says, rolling over, “Another bust? The next numbers ar—”

“No,” Remus throws himself into a sitting position, and blindly grabbing for more toilet paper. The back of his throat is slick with a metallic taste and his head spins a bit when he tries to stand up. “No, Dee!”

“No?”

“Dee, we did it! That’s the code,” Remus says, pretending like his knees don’t buckle when the floor rolls under his feet. Dee is there in a moment, hands under his arms and holding him up completely. Its almost like a hug, Remus thinks distantly. He’s twenty-one and he can’t remember the last time someone hugged him even as a joke. His skin itches at the contact, blistering and burning at the warmth of someone else being so close to him. The cardamom scent is so strong, but Remus thinks he might be okay if that was the only thing he smelled for the rest of his life.

“Are you…okay?” Dee asks. “Why are you…?”

Remus uses the back of his hand to wipe away the stream of blood from his nose and inhales hard. “You died again. The executive you choose to impersonate is in the building and you run into him right before getting out with the cash.”

“Who was it? I can change into someone else.”

Remus shakes his head. “Oh no. I’ve got no clue, but if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s get someone’s attention.”

Dee grins, “You certainly got mine. What are you going to do?”

Remus slides his weight back and manages to stand on his own legs. Remus’s heart does a dance routine in his chest, moving like if it slows for even a second Dee will lunge forward and rip it from his body.

Remus tells him, “I’m going to go make a girl win at roulette so much they think she’s cheating. With a hundred thousand dollars on the line that should have their attentions, right?”

It’s not really a question. Remus knows from experience that the more games in a row that you win during a game involving so much luck, the more interest people start to take in it and you. He just needs to convince the girl to bet only where he tells her to, and then bet as much as she can.

He knows how to do it, too: simply walk up to her and offer her a free Barney if she bets on the square he tells her too. Once she wins, he tells her the next one, and maybe she puts a nickel down, or a quarter, just in case he’s wrong. When she wins again, he’ll tell her the next number, and she’ll put more on it. Then more. Then more. She doesn’t even need to believe that he can see the future. She just has to reap the rewards.

“Oh,” Dee says staring at him. “Oh.”

Remus isn’t sure what he’s looking at. He just knows that Dee’s eyes are as blue as the ocean and deeper than anything he’s ever drowned in. He’s looking at Remus again, like this is the first time he’s seeing him in this lighting, and when he smiles, his teeth are definitely sharper than before.

“I do believe,” Dee says, “we could make the best team of thieves there is out here.”

“You’re just now figuring that out?” Remus asks. “Come on. I didn’t listen to you die nine hundred times just for you to chicken out now.”

He grabs his jacket, and buttons it. With a swipe of his hands he’s hair sets back in the position before, like some type of magic act. If Dee’s the magician, Remus thinks he would be honored to be in the front row every time he performs.

“So, you’d be up to doing this again, correct?” Dee asks, with his hand on the doorknob.

“They won’t fall for the same trick twice,” Remus says, “And what makes you think that this is something I enjoy?”

“I didn’t ask if you enjoyed it. I asked if you’d do this again. Not here, but somewhere else.” Dee glances at him, side eyeing him in a way that makes the hair on the back of Remus’s neck stand on end. “You still owe me.”

“What?” Remus turns to face him, and if there’s a spark in his chest, a nudge of excitement, well who can blame him? People don’t usually want him to stay around.

Another step in the hall. “We made a deal, unless you’ve forgotten. You said that if I could figure out how you were cheating, you’d do one thing that I want you to do.”

Remus snorted and motioned between them, “What do you call this? What we’ve been doing for the past hour?”

“This?” The man gives him a shark-like smile, “You did this of your own volition!”

“I seem to recall you asking,” Remus challenges.

Dee shakes his head too innocently. “Not in this timeline.” He pulls out his pale-yellow handkerchief and offers it to him, “You still have blood on your face by the way.”

There’s something nice about the way that this man is looking at him, the way he’s still looking at him, like Remus is something more than a nuisance, more than a distraction, more than an unwanted, frustrating intrusion. It makes his knees weak and the back of his throat taste like blood again and he so desperately wants to look to the future but won’t let himself do it.

“What do you want?” Remus says, because the uncharacteristic fear in his chest is slowly turning all his organs to butterflies and he never goes back on a promise.

“Well, you did say anything I wanted right? Anything at all?”

Remus nods, rolling his finger over the snake design on the stolen poker chip. Suddenly there doesn’t seem to be enough air in the world, and he’s afraid if he inhales too deeply trying to get more, the whole reality will shatter.

Dee’s form shimmers, shivers, and dissolves into Tim the dealer as they wait for the elevator to take them back to the casino floor. It’s an entirely different person but when he looks at Remus all he can see is Dee’s expression.

“Well, Remus,” He says, “After we finish up here, I want you to come with me. Work with me a bit. Let me help you amass a bit of a fortune. Strictly professional, of course. I won’t ask about your past and you don’t ask about mine. We don’t even need to be friends! Just…”

Dee offers out a gloved hand to him. “Business partners?”

Remus is twenty-one and he thinks there might be a timeline out there where he says no, but he doesn’t even entertain that thought.

“Business Partners,” He says and shakes on it.

[downwiththeficness]

A Need So Great-Chapter 21 (Final Chapter)

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count: ~5,700

Warnings: Smut--y’all this is the chapter containing Eva’s next heat. So, yeah, keep that in mind.

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand @clydesducktape @revolution-starter @autumnleaves1991-blog @jedi-mando @buckysalefty @anaeve @maouzon

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20

Eva picked up the basket from the floor, dumping it on the bed to begin the sorting process. She made little piles in a line—shirts, shorts, underwear, socks.  The slacks, she set aside to be hung, along with the occasional polo and her washable sundresses. Task complete, she pushed the stacks into their respective drawers and hung up the rest.

Setting the basket by the door, she moved to the windows and opened them to the cool morning air. It had taken a few days of frantically looking at every available home on the coast of Spain, hours upon hours spent walking through and trying to make a decision, before they found this one. Though not right on the water, it was close enough that she could hear the waves crashing on the shore. She inhaled the salt laden air, a warm contentment in her belly. Perfect.

Stepping away from the window, Eva plucked the basket from the floor and headed downstairs. On the landing, her stomach cramped hard enough that she dropped the basket. Hissing in pain, Eva bent over a bit, pressing her fingers into the source until it eased.

“The fuck was that?”

The feeling left as quickly as it came, leaving a soft ache in its place. Shaking her head to dismiss it, she set the basket on top of the washer and made her way lazily to the couch. Plopping down, she picked up the remote and channel surfed for about an hour, until the washer buzzed. She switched the load into the dryer and turned the knob, standing for a minute as the barrel turned.

A glance at the clock on the wall told her it was lunchtime, but she found that she wasn’t truly hungry. She should be.  She hadn’t eaten breakfast, choosing instead to lounge in bed with Horacio until the very last second before he had to go to work.  He’d found a job as a consultant for a security firm and seemed pretty happy with it.  His permanent frown had eased, though he was still as serious as he’d ever been. She supposed that old habits would never truly die.

Though they’d only been in the house for about a week, he was settling into their routine with more ease than Eva. She was still looking over her shoulder a little bit, though Horacio had been monitoring her in laws with Javier’s contacts in the states.  To compensate for starting over again in a new country, Eva had made a long distance phone call to Connie, giving her the run down and inviting her to stay when the summer was over. It helped—marginally.

Eva busied herself with staring at the open refrigerator, all the while giving a mental reminder that she had been the new girl in town over and over again throughout the years.  This would, hopefully, be the last time. And, she had practiced her friend making skills in Colombia. She could do this. Again.

Finding nothing in the fridge worth making, Eva shut the door and leaned against the kitchen island, looking out over the open space floor plan.  The dining room set was picked up from a local thrift shop, already scraped a little across the wooden tabletop. She’d seen it and loved it immediately. A little worn, but still good.

The couch was new—a luxurious leather that reminded her of the couch she’d curled up on with Horacio before they’d started selling furniture in prep for the move. A coffee table and entertainment center sat on a plush shag rug thrown over the hardwood. All in all, it was a good start to their new life together. Just a few essentials that she’d add to the longer they stayed right here.

Upstairs, they didn’t have much, other than a king size bed—Horacio had insisted on the larger mattress when Eva had balked. He needed a space to spread out, she needed enough room to nest properly.  She had no argument against him, especially when he leaned down and whispered how easy it would be to go down on her properly. He could lay her out across the mattress and still have room for his own body, rather than kneeling on the floor or hanging off the edge. More comfort, meant more orgasms. Later, he’d proven his point several times over.

He’d also proved the point again the night previous. Eva felt her cheeks warm as she thought about it. He’d been...insatiable—no, they both were. He’d come home a little early. Eva was just starting dinner. He’d hung up his jacket and walked around the island, arms wrapping around her middle. The solid length of his body pressed up against her as she tried to chop celery was certainly distracting. As was his way, he tugged her hair over her shoulder and nosed along her neck, inhaling.

His hands covered hers and he gently pulled the knife from her fingers, setting it aside even as he walked her back and away from the counter. Dinner ended out being peanut butter and crackers, eaten furtively over the sink, hours after the sun had set.

Heading back to the couch, Eva flung herself back on it, smiling as she thought about how he’d trembled beneath her that last time, sweating and begging for her to come just one more time. It was an image that, even now, made her fan herself.

Taking a deliberate breath, Eva pointedly picked up the remote and put on some daytime television. For a while, it was enough of a distraction.  She dozed a bit as the afternoon wore on, ignored the buzz of the dryer that signaled her clothes were dry, and generally did not much of anything. It wasn’t until her stomach gave another clench that Eva sat up and paid attention.

Hand to her belly, she stared into the middle distance as she tried to place just where the...pain wasn’t the word for it...ache, maybe. It throbbed gently now, spiked sporadically with a tightness that had her blowing out a breath. Pressing her free hand to her head, Eva noted the slight fever, though she felt herself give an involuntary shiver.  

Was she sick?

When she tried to stand, Eva went to her knees, a low, anguished moan sounding. On the floor, she breathed deep, her nose pressed into the rug. After a few seconds, the feeling eased and she was able to rock back onto her heels.  Using the couch for leverage, she pushed to standing. Another steadying breath, and Eva was moving slowly around the couch to the kitchen cabinet where they kept most of their over the counter medications.

With care, she turned each bottle around and read their label, not sure which she should rely on. Eventually, she settled on Tylenol and popped a few in her mouth with a glass of water. While she waited for it to kick in, Eva leaned a hip against the counter, her eyes feeling a little heavy. Perhaps she should eat...but the thought of food turned her stomach. Not even the very expensive chocolate bar in her hidden stash seemed appealing, and that was saying something.

Squinting into the afternoon sunlight, Eva waited for the ache to ease.  The dull throbbing in her belly absolutely did not pass.  It remained stubbornly in place, growing by tiny increments. Eva wiped at her brow, which had begun to sweat. Setting the glass down, Eva dropped her head into her hands and squeezed her eyes shut. Her body felt tired and wired and achy and lazy and utterly ridiculous all at the same time.  There was so much going on that she didn’t know how to feel about it.  Even her feelings were a mishmash of anxious and lethargic.

Breathe.

As she took long, deep breaths, the smell of Horacio filled her lungs. Normally, she would be comforted by it, soothed. She was not, in this moment, soothed. The scent of him burned through her, settling low in her belly.  Flicking her eyes to the clock on the wall, she noted the time.  He wouldn’t be home for a few hours, even if he clocked out as normal. She wanted him, wanted him with her, wanted him to hold her.  Drowning in him was the only way she’d make it through whatever this was.

Mouth curling, Eva tried to think of something that she could do to distract herself. Looking around the house, she tried to find an activity—any activity—that could be done with little to no thought. Eva settled on some light cleaning.  Leaning down to grab the cleaners from beneath the sink made her wince, her muscles straining as she tried to keep her body upright.

Determined, Eva got through the table tops, the windows at the front of the house, and was wiping down the coffee table when she finally gave up. Throwing down the lemon scented towel, Eva slumped against the couch, head thrown back in resignation. Rubbing the heels of her palms into her eyes sockets, she groaned as another wave hit her.  Only sheer force of will kept her from curling in on herself and dissolving into a tantrum.

Hands falling to her lap, Eva stared at the ceiling for a long time, the dips and bends of it going in and out of focus.  Breaths uneven, Eva felt her eyes tear up in frustration. Her jaw locked as she made every attempt to fight them off.

What the fuck? She thought, flinching when fire began sizzling over her skin. Every second it grew more apparent that whatever this was, it was not going away. The hair at her temples was wet with sweat, her limbs were faintly trembling. She was dizzy and disoriented in a way that startled her. Eva closed her eyes, trying to relax...

She awoke with a cry that was muffled by the rug. Shaking, Eva’s thighs clenched together, her cunt pulsing. She blinked at the individual strands of the shag, realization coming over her like a kick to the head. Heat. It was a heat. Though the ache was still making itself viscerally known, all she could feel was relief.  She wasn’t sick, she wasn’t dying. She was just undergoing her normal cycle—well, normal for her.

Pushing ever so carefully to sitting, Eva weighed her options. An hour and a half, and he would be home.  She could do that. Maybe. Eva stood and grabbed the basket off the top of the dryer. In it, she put every snack she could find—anything that could be eaten quickly and without much effort.  She also packed every soda, every sports drinks, every juice.  They would need to replenish.

It took some time, and many breaks for her to catch her breath, but she got the basket upstairs and into the bedroom.  Unable to help it, she checked the time again.  Forty five minutes.  She could do this.  Moving as easily as she could, Eva made her way back downstairs, pulling an ice pack out of the freezer and sitting gingerly on the couch.

Half an hour. Fifteen minutes. Five. Zero. Nothing.  His truck didn’t pull up in the drive. He didn’t come through the door. He just...wasn’t there. Not yet.  Every minute that followed was excruciating in a way that Eva hadn’t ever felt. Not in all the years since she’d manifested her designation had Eva truly felt as helpless as most omegas were perceived to be.  The grim reaper, himself, could walk through the front door, and Eva wouldn’t be able to move a muscle in her own defense.

Too soon, it became overwhelming and Eva was crawling pitifully over the cushions and grabbing the phone, dialing the number to his office. The ringing took too long, but she was relieved at the sound of the handset picking up from the cradle.

“Hello?”

“Horacio?” Her voice was small and far more timid than she felt.

“...Eva? Is everything alright?”

She bit her lip, the urge to deflect too strong for her to come right out and say it, “Its just...you’re usually home by now.”

He sighed deeply, and she could see him leaning back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, “We had a meeting go long. I’m supposed to run out and do a site visit. I should be home in a few hours.”

A few hours. Eva wasn’t going to make it a few hours. She wasn’t even sure she’d make it through the rest of this phone call. Her body, hearing Horacio’s voice, had kicked it up a notch, her thighs trembling with the want of wrapping around his body.

The sound that she made was pathetic and she hated it immediately. He, of course, heard it.

“Eva, what’s wrong?” His voice was firm, suspicious.

She inhaled, begging her body for calm.  “I’m fine.”

He made a soft tsk of censure, “You’re not. Tell me what’s wrong.” When she hesitated, he rumbled, “Evangeline, you tell me what’s wrong.”

A directive. No argument. She felt her spine straighten.

“Horacio,” she started, her voice cracking, “Its...here.  Its here.”

“What’s here?”

She could hear the concern that was in his voice rise up further into near panic.  In the background, she could hear his keys jingling.

“The heat,” she clarified through her teeth, her brows coming together as she tried very hard to concentrate on the situation at hand and not how eagerly her body was telling her that she was talking to her alpha and that he was everything to her. “Its here.”

The line went silent for several long heartbeats and Eva feared that he’d hung up. Desperately, she listened for any sign that he was still there.

And then, “I’m on my way.”

The line went dead, the dial tone buzzing loudly in her ear. Eva dropped the handset onto the couch cushion and breathed deeply.  He was maybe twenty minutes away.  She could do that—told herself that she could do that.  Twenty minutes was easy. Two sets of ten. Four sets of five.

When she tried to stand, her knees buckled and she hit the ground. Defeated, she laid down right where she was, sandwiched between the coffee table and the couch. Eva decided that she was just going to lay here and wait. She’d done what he would want her to do—she told him, just like he’d asked. Now, she would just have to try to relax until he got home.

The door opened and closed firmly. Eva blinked her eyes open, her vision blurry. She heard his footsteps move further into the house, his jacket hit the floor, and his keys hit the dining room table. Two further thumps sounded, his boots kicked off—she had just about enough energy to be annoyed that he couldn’t be bothered to put them on the shoe rack that was right there.

“Eva?”

She couldn’t answer. Her throat was dry, the muscles around her vocal cords refusing to cooperate.  Fingers flexing, Eva tried to gather her limbs underneath her. They moved like molasses and had about as much strength as a bowl of jello.

“Eva?” his voice was louder, more urgent.

She made a sound, a pathetic little thing, choked out and exhausted. Fuck, how was she supposed to last through the heat when she couldn’t even get the thing started?

He heard her, his steps swinging around the couch until she could see his socked feet standing just outside the perimeter of the rug she was laying on.  Her eyes traced upwards, following the line of his legs to his torso, shoulders, and face. He towered over her when she was standing. From the floor, he looked like a fucking giant.

His expression was concerned, but his hands were clenched into fists, sweat on his collar. She wondered how much of the drive home had been spent trying to control the rush of hormones that he’d no doubt been feeling. Thinking about what was waiting for him when he got home. She swallowed and reached for him.

Horacio caught her by both hands, dragging her out from between the coffee table and couch to lay near the landing of the stairs. She let the leverage of the moment pull her to sitting, her legs splayed useless in front of her.

Eva stared at him for a few seconds, “Hi…”

His mouth opened to respond, but no words came out. He just...looked at her, his entire posture stiff. Eva felt her stomach drop a little. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Why wasn’t he moving?

Eyes dropping, Eva ran her hand over the floor, trying to parse out the thoughts that were still foggy and stilted in her brain. Her hormones were raging hard enough that she couldn’t steady her breathing, everything inside her filling up with him in every way, except the way she most wanted.  

He knelt, hand touching her chin. The contact made her shiver, tingles billowing out from her jaw and down her neck.  Eva reluctantly looked at him, feeling her breaths stutter.

“Are you alright?”

Was she alright? Was she alright? Her latent anxiety morphed into righteous anger, her body bristling. He must have read her anger clearly across her face, because he leaned further into her space.

“I just need to know you’re alright—before...Once this starts, I won’t be able to stop—mmph,”

Eva cut him off with a hard kiss, rising up to her knees and knocking him onto his back. She followed him down, kissing him again before lifting her head and glaring at him.

“Horacio,” she grit out between clenched teeth, “Shut up.”

Not waiting for an answer, Eva dropped down and licked up his neck, ending it with a firm kiss.  Her thumbs pressed into the hollow above his jaw, urging him to open for her. Tongue dipping in for a taste, she groaned, settling her weight further on his body. He was hard beneath her, and her already frazzled hormones spun up into a chaotic mess. Skin prickling, she ground against him, swallowing down his moan.

Grasping her hips, he pulled her closer, using what little leverage he had to help her rock against him. Not needing any more encouragement, Eva let her hips go fluid in their movements, setting up a hard, quick rhythm. Fuck, but it felt good. All that time spent waiting for him, burning up inside, melted away with the delicious friction.

He breathed her name between kisses, hands grabbing at whatever they could reach. He said it again when she released his mouth to kiss down his neck to the collar of his polo. And again, when she pulled the fabric out of his khakis.

“Evangeline,” he nearly yelled, “We need to get upstairs. Now.”

She stared down at him, her mouth curling into a smile. Then, with no preamble, she sat up, tore off her shirt, and threw it at him. Her body had just enough adrenaline to get her up and off him, scrambling up the stairs, hands shoved onto each step for balance. They slapped at the polished wood, pushing her forward and up to the second floor.

Eva felt herself giggle as she made it to the top stair, sliding a little as she rounded the corner. She could hear Horacio’s answering growl as his heavy steps boomed behind her. As quick as her feet would go, Eva hurdled towards the bedroom, clearing the door and making it almost to the bed when he  slammed into her from behind. The momentum pushed her into the mattress, bent at the waist, the air punched out of her with the impact.

A flat palm between her shoulder blades held her in place as he pushed his fingers between her body and the mattress to get at the button of her shorts. Flicking it open, he pulled down the zipper and shoved both her shorts and underwear down and off her legs. After kicking the bundle away, he unsnapped her bra pulled it from her, throwing it off the side of the bed.

Eva tried to get her arms underneath her so that she could turn over. She even got a quarter turn of her torso before he leaned more weight on his hand, pushing her into the mattress again. Groaning, her face buried in the comforter, Eva kicked out in frustration.  She wanted to touch him, wanted to rub every inch of her skin on him, anything to ease the fever that was growing steadily hotter.

He dropped down on her, his bare chest searing against her back. Eva realized that he must have removed his shirt somewhere between the stairs and their bedroom. His body was like a furnace, scalding her already sensitized skin. He ran the flat of his tongue over her shoulder, teeth scraping. His arms encircled her waist, holding her to him as much as he was holding her down. She wiggled against him in a vain attempt to gain any kind of sensation to urge her along towards the orgasm she knew would be a-fucking-mazing. It didn’t matter that he was doing exactly what she wanted, he wasn’t doing it fast enough. She needed hard and fast and now.

Nose in the crook of her neck, Horacio breathed deep, his body rigid all around her. Eva bit her lip, a cry building in the back of her throat. She needed something to happen, and quickly. Her nails dug into her palms, muscles tense all over. An attempt to get her feet firmly planted on the ground was met with a quick slap to her outer thigh, his teeth setting against her skin in warning.

A clink sounded, followed by the rasp of leather as is slid through belt loops. She heard fabric tear as he worked to get his pants off.

“Eva, tell me you’re ready,” he gasped, head bowed over the curve of her spine. One hand gripped her hip, the other reaching down to line himself up, “Tell me.”

The cry she’d been working to hold back broke free, a low keening thing that had her clenching her eyes shut, “Yes, please, alpha.”

With a rough, almost angry sound, he pushed home, sinking deep. Though she was more than wet, sopping, the burn was still there as he bottomed out. It pulsed through her deliciously, putting pressure everywhere that she so desperately needed it. With his hands on her hips, she had the leverage to finally push back onto her feet a little so that she was balanced on her toes. It was a precarious balance, and put way too much strain on her thighs, but Eva couldn’t find it in herself to care.

Though the position gave her little in the way of controlling a movement in counterpoint to him, it didn’t really seem to matter. His every push inwards was hard and deep enough that her body clenched down on him out of reflex, cresting over the orgasm so easily that it caught her off guard. She groaned, her cunt squeezing him in a vice.

“I feel you,” he bit out, his pace never faltering, “Fuck, I feel you.”

Then, with deliberate slowness, he pulled his hips back, arms looping around her waist and hoisting her up and further onto the bed. Eva whined, a pathetic, needy thing that would have been embarrassing if she didn’t need him back inside her right fucking now.

Rough hands pushed her higher on the mattress, spreading her knees a little to make room. And then he was sliding home again, fucking into her brutally. Chin tilting back, Eva felt her arms give out.  Her hands slid upwards and underneath the pillows, nails digging into the sheets. The change in angle let him farther inside, and she barely heard his pleased growl over the near constant sounds stuttering out of her.

She could feel it, hitting at her opening with every thrust, a hot, swollen ridge of flesh that had her gasping. As with the first time they spent the night together, Eva had a brief thought that maybe she should reevaluate. It was...big. Horacio was already so thick that it took a little patience to get started any other time they had sex. His knot made her want to scramble away just as much as she wanted to see if she could take it. Every thrust put a little more pressure on her, opening her just a little bit further, prodding at her enticingly.

A harsh sound escaped his mouth and he leaned down to grab her shoulders, hauling her up and off the mattress to sit back on him. Eva cried out, struggling a little in his hold as she tried to accommodate the deeper angle. He snarled, arms locking around her, holding her still.

Eva felt the omega in her rise up a bit, a visceral need to make him earn the right to knot her.  She might have claimed him as her own all those months ago, but this was their first heat. It wouldn’t be right if she just laid down and gave it to him. She needed him to take it just as much as he needed to be the one doing the taking.

Planting her knees, she grabbed at his forearms, arching her hips up to shallow out the depth of his penetration, keeping him from grinding his knot against her. His hands tightened, biceps bulging as he adjusted his grip. Although Eva could see his face, she knew his eyes were narrowing in confusion. She heard him snarl at her, felt the way he rocked back onto his heels a bit, hips tilting to get underneath her a bit more.

When he moved to push upwards, Eva countered him as best she could, given that she had little to no leverage. The snarl dropped into his chest, coming out as a warning growl. Eva laughed a little bit, unable to keep her amusement to herself. She wasn’t intimidated by a little growling.

That was, apparently, not the best thing to do. One of his hands released her torso, threading through her hair and yanking her head to the side. She felt his teeth lay against her skin even as he used his free arm to cross her chest and grip her shoulder. His thrusts, already hard, picked up in pace and intensity.  Short, stunted, as if he couldn’t bare to be outside of her more than absolutely necessary. He barreled into her in a way that made all her muscles give out with the sheer pleasure shooting through her.

His cock speared inside her, hitting her g spot and gliding smoothly through the slick dripping down between their bodies. Sweat pooled on her stomach, in the crease of her burning thighs, on her temple. His breaths punched out of him and onto her skin, each one like a physical blow against her neck, collarbone, and shoulder.

He pulled her down by her shoulder as his movements became more determined. Horacio cursed desperately, and she could feel his eyes squeeze shut as he pressed his face into her cheek.

“Omega,” he grunted, “Eva, I can’t...I need…”

She knew exactly what he needed, could feel it spreading her open from below, knew that it wouldn’t be much longer before he was pushing it inside her, locking them together. Eva didn’t have to wait long. His fingers dug into her skin as he gave one final thrust upwards, hips flexed so far that her body bowed forward in one elegant arch, her head flung back over his shoulder.

He stretched her open. She could feel that he had stopped breathing. His heart pounded against her back. There, there, there. Eva’s body relaxed, allowing his knot to breach her, filling her to capacity.  That was it. She couldn’t get any fuller. Not even his come would leak out of her until he softened a little, their bodies sealed together perfectly.

Horacio groaned against her neck, lips pulling back from his teeth as he sank them into the skin covering her scent gland. The pain of the bite pushed her over the edge again, her voice sounding against the walls, coming back to her as a harsh shriek.

Locked together as they were, Eva could only circled her hips, grinding down on him as she came. She could feel his answering pulses, knew that she would trickle out all over the sheets when they were finally able to separate. He held her there, breathing hard, until they’d calmed just a bit.  Then, with careful movements that sent aftershocks through them both, he eased them down on to the bed.

Laying on her side, Horacio behind her, Eva felt herself drift a little. He was stroking her body, nose pressed against her spine, the motion calming. After a while, his knot contracted a little, allowing him to pull out. She was right. A mixture of their come dripped out of her, coating her thighs. Eva didn’t have the ability to feel embarrassed about it. They’d wash the sheets later.

Rolling her to her back, Horacio leaned over and kissed her deeply.  She felt every ounce of the love that he felt for her in that kiss, knew that their bond would deepen as the days went on, sealing them together as a pair.

Reluctantly, he pulled away. She watched him assess her, could see the effort it was taking for him to bank back his building arousal. His cock was already beginning to harden against her hip. Her body rose up in answer. With shaking limbs, she pushed up and over, clumsily sitting astride his hips. He tried to sit up, but she shoved him back down with a strength that she shouldn’t have had.

Leaning down, she kissed him lightly, “My turn.”

Her body moved without real conscious thought, slotting him inside her, reveling in how hard he was, how well he filled her. She hissed on the first downward thrust, her eyes squinting as he dragged against every exposed nerve. Biting her lip, Eva breathed deeply through her nose, the scent of him filling her lungs. It spurred her on, pleasure flushing every system until she had no choice but to move.

Bracing her hands on his chest, she gave him no warning before she began to ride him hard. The motion had no finesse—she wasn’t trying to tease, she didn’t have the capability. Eva could feel the need to come squirm inside her, pushing her to fuck him harder, faster, deeper. Adrenaline and oxytocin flooded her already brimming body, shaking down her spine.

He reached out and grabbed her ass, giving her an assist. Already, his knot was swelling up, Eva could see it protruding from where they were joined, the skin flushed and pulsing. She bounced on it, earning a helpless little moan from the man beneath her. His hands slid up and curled around her hips, his arms straining to pull her down on him harder. Eva felt him shift his feet on the sheets, knew he was working to gain enough traction to work more of himself inside.

Hands splayed on his chest, Eva forced herself to stop, just for a moment.  Though her body screamed out in resistance, she wanted to draw out the feeling just a little. His brows drew together, and she could tell that she only had a second or two before he was going to flip her over and take control. Eva looked him in the eye, smiled, and let all of her body weight fall on him. The effect was exactly what she wanted. She sank down onto his knot while he watched, powerless.

The feeling of it, knowing that she was the one who’d done it, that she had brought on the pleasure that skyrocketed through her, was infinitely gratifying. Still further, from her vantage point above him, Eva got the watch him utterly fall apart. It was...beautiful.

His head was thrown back, exposing the long line of his throat. His jaw was clenched, face screwed up as he rode out the orgasm. Every muscle in his torso was drawn tight, cutting vivid lines that emphasized the strength she knew was there. From his lips came a cry of ecstasy that mirrored her own.

Beautiful.

When he was able, he helped her to roll to her side, hooking her leg over his hip, their chests pressed together. She was sweating, shaking, barely able to form coherent thoughts. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, massaged at the muscles he could reach. Eva snuggled into him, the swivel of her hips sparking another, smaller pulse to go through her. He groaned when she clenched on him, his cock undulating in response.

An indeterminate time later, he sat up and padded over to the basket she had put together. He made her drink as much as she was able and eat a few crackers, leaving a snacks and an extra bottle of water on the nightstand for later. Even a heat couldn’t keep him from being practical.

She slept for a bit, waking groggily to Horacio sucking on her clit hard enough that she came all over his fingers, her legs spasming over his shoulders. When he pushed inside again, he grabbed both of her thighs and eased them up and into her chest, giving him the most room to move. Punishing thrusts, an unrelenting pace. He shoved his knot into her hard, forcing a scream from her throat. Eva shook through the orgasm, her hands holding onto his forearms for purchase.

Nearly unconscious by the time he pulled out again, Eva let him arrange her limp body against him. She was draped over his chest, staring aimlessly through the still open window, listening to the waves. For the moment, everything was still. The air in the room was filled with their combined scents, the bond twisting them together. As she drifted once more into sleep, Eva pressed her nose into his skin, inhaling happily. Tobacco. Vetiver. Home.

[asavt]

Cookie Run!Promare AU(3) - Operation Rescue

 By Notebook

The smell of disinfectants permeates throughout the entire surgical room, as the cleaners wash away the remains of former Mages. The ashes of these test subjects cling unto the sponges and mops as the cleaners dipped them into their water buckets, turning the once clear water into a murky grey-red. 

Once the room was fully cleaned, the cleaners drained the discolored water into the sink before filling the buckets with fresh water. They gathered their cleaning supplies and headed towards the next surgical room for disinfection. Preparing the room for the next batch of Mages for dissection. 

——————————–

Near the bottom of the facility, where the most valuable Mages are kept, a figure shivers near the corner of their cell. His entire body was covered in bandages due to the plethora of medical tests from the day before. 

The Mage looked around the cold white sterile room he was imprisoned in. Bereft of anything else, save for the bed he slept on. The harsh lights beamed down from the ceiling as the figure stared at the white wall before them. 

He hoped each day that someone might come and saved him from this never-ending nightmare, but alas that day still has not arrived yet. 

It has not arrived in over 3 years. 

The figure continued to stare towards the white wall when the door to their cell slid wide open. A flurry of doctors poured into the room, along with a few guards that followed them into the room. The doctors ordered the guards to take Y-9 to the “sleeping” room. 

The guards picked up the tired Mage and carried them towards the room. The Mage did not fight back against the guards, knowing full well of the consequences for those who do.

“Excuse me. Are you new here?” asked a nurse, who was drinking her 7th cup of coffee. The man nodded his head as he adjusted his glasses. 

From what the nurse observed, the man had brown hair with a light brown highlight, light pink eyes, and a soft smile. He also wore white scrubs along with white with light blue shoes and the tag of which unit he worked at. 

The typical uniform for nurses who worked at the facility.

The man, carrying a thick manila folder, smiled at the veteran nurse before him. “Yes, I am. I was wondering where unit 1 is located? They didn’t give us a map of this place. So… I was just wondering where it is. I have to deliver some important paperwork to the unit’s doctors,” explained the male nurse.

The female nurse gave him a weird look before responding to the new nurse’s question. 

“Sorry, but no one is allowed in that unit except for the nurses and doctors that were assigned to that unit,” explained the irritated nurse. “You just have to deliver the paperwork to the proper secretary and ask them to deliver it for you. That’s just protocol, kid.”

“Ah, I see. And where do I find the proper secretary?”

“Just keep heading straight until you find the fake fountain, then turn right. Then you keep going until you find the sign that says, ‘Unit 1, Main Secretary’. Just go in and give them the paperwork. They will do the rest.”

“Huh, I see. Thank you, Ma'am.”

The young nurse waved the old nurse goodbye before walking past her, heading towards the direction of the fountain. 

The nurse finished her 7th cup of coffee before throwing the soft paper cup into the trash can next to her. While she walked towards the operating room for the next experiment, a sudden chill ran down her spine.

As Tea finally finished the last of the facility’s finances a male nurse, whom Tea never seen before, entered his office while carrying a large manila folder. The nurse looked at the secretary and smiled, which in all honesty creeped Tea out. 

“May I help you?”

“Umm, yes… I need to enter Unit 1 to deliver some important paperwork, but I don’t know how to get there. Can you help me?”

Tea rolled his eyes. Figuring they are new to the facility Tea explained, “Unless you’re assigned to Unit 1, you are not allowed to enter that specific Unit. If you need to deliver some paperwork to the docs over there, just hand me the papers and I’ll fax it over to them.”

“Wait. So, you have access to Unit 1?”

“Yes!” Yelled the very tired secretary. “Now, just give me the folder and be on your way.”

“Alright. Alright.” The male nurse answered as he laid the folder on the table and left the office. 

When Tea picked up the manila folder and opened it to see its contents, a large puff of gas and smoke envelope the entire room. Knocking out the secretary. 

As soon as the male nurse heard a loud thump, he knew the sleeping gas had worked. He waited for a few minutes before entering the office, so as to not get knocked out from the gas. 

The male “nurse” rifled through the secretary’s desk before finding the plethora of keycards for Unit 1 in a secret compartment underneath the desk. 

The “nurse” took the keycards, hid Tea underneath his desk, and left the office.

The “nurse” walked towards the door to Unit 1 and used all the keycards to unlock the doors, thus gaining access to Unit 1.

The male “nurse” quickly entered the Unit and headed towards the elevator that will take him to the lower levels of the facility. The levels where the Mages are kept. 

When the elevator doors finally opened, the “nurse” headed towards the back of the unit. 

The “nurse” smirked a little as small flames appeared from his fists. Disappearing just as quickly.

————————————-

“Alrighty then. Just be a good test subject and it will all be over lickety-split.”

One of the doctors chirps as they put in an IV on Y-9’s arms along with an anesthesia face mask. 

Y-9 knew this day would come, yet he didn’t feel scared nor sad, but rather relieved. It was finally going to be over. 

Just before the anesthesia kicked it, a large explosion shook the entire unit causing the power to shut down. Soon, the backup generator kicked in and the alarm ranged throughout the entire unit.

Before the doctors could realize what was happening, the doors to the operating room flew hide open and flames shot from every direction. The doctors ran for their lives, while Y-9 looked towards the one that stopped the dissection. 

Y-9’s field of vision grew smaller and smaller, as their rescuers picked them up and placed them on a gurney to wheel them to safety.

The last thing they remember was seeing the exit sign before everything went black. 

“Hey. Hey! Can you hear us?”

“I don’t think he can hear us.”

“Is he in a coma?”

“No, he’s just asleep from the anesthesia they gave them.”

“Oh, then-Huh? Boss look! He’s waking up!”

Y-9 slowly opened his eyes to find not the harsh white light of the facility but the warm yellow lights of a warehouse. Y-9 lifted his head and looked around his surroundings.  

He finds himself surrounded by a bunch of people, who were either treating the wounds from those who were rescued from the facility or standing guard around the windows and doors of the warehouse.

Y-9 then looked towards the two people next to his bed. 

“Did…. Did you guys save me?”

“Sort of,” the younger of the two answered. 

“I merely short-circuited their systems, while the boss here did the bulk of the work.”

“Now, don’t sell yourself too short. We couldn’t have saved as Mages as we did without you frying the circuits,” the older one replied to the younger one. 

“No, really it was no big, man.”

“Well, it’s a big deal to me. This is the most Mages we have ever saved, and I think-Oh?”

The older one looked towards Y-9, who had confusion plastered on his face. The older gentlemen smiled at Y-9. 

“I’m so sorry for not introducing ourselves. We are the “Magicians”, a group of Mages dedicated to saving our kind and rising against those oppressing our kind. My name is Espresso, the leader of the “Magicians” and this here is Lemon.“

"What’s up.”

“He is one of the top generals of the "Magicians”, so he helps with these sort of missions.“ 

"Yup. I can use my mana to create electricity. As a result, I can hack almost any computer or fry any system.”

“But he’s better at frying than hacking.”

“Sad, but true,” Lemon said as he puts on his jacket with lightning bolts on them. 

“So, what’s your name?”

“Huh? My… name.”

“Yes,” Lemon responded. “What’s your name?”

Both Espresso and Lemon waited patiently for Y-9 to answer their questions. A few moments digging through buried memories later, Y-9 looks at the boss and the general of the Magicians. He answers:

“Cinnamon. My name is Cinnamon.”

=========================

CINNA MY SON–

HHHHHH Lovely, absolutly lovely and cool dude!!  come on guys!! you better read this is soo cool!!!

[ao3snowbutterfly]

16 with Stoncy for the drabbles? 🤗

16- "It could be worse." with Stoncy!

This is a little longer than a drabble tbh. Whoops.

Rating-G

Warnings: Implied sexual contact.

That's all I think. This is mostly tooth-rotting fluff.

Feel free to keep sending me prompts.

“To be fair,” Jonathan says slowly, “It could be worse.”

Steve, who is lying face down on the carpeted floor, just groans. Nancy is crouched next to him, running her hand up and down his back.

“Yeah, we can fix this.” Nancy says, glancing around the Harrington living room.

The best word for the room at this moment is destroyed. The entire brat pack was over and threw a party to celebrate Eleven’s upcoming first day of school the night before. Steve had made the unwise decision to host said party. He also made the equally stupid decision to essentially let the kids supervise themselves.

Well... he didn’t decide that. It was more like he was... distracted. He hasn’t been able to have any time with both his boyfriend and girlfriend at the same time in almost a week, so he had to take what opportunities he could get. The three of them spent almost all of last night together in Steve’s room doing many things rated from G to M. He’s only human.

The magic of having the loves of his life with him was shattered when he discovered the living room the following morning. Several glass items were broken, there were punch stains on the carpet and wall, and even the furniture was scattered across the room. That’s not mentioning all the little items that are tossed around the room. He promptly laid on the floor, contemplating many choices he’s made in his life.

“How?” Steve says, into the carpet. He lifts his head slightly. “My parents will be back later today, and this place is a mess!” He presses his face into the carpet.

“Most of the stuff we can just put back in place, and we could at least make the stains better.” Jonathan says simply.

“Yeah, there’s nothing that really needs replaced and we can just start now.” Nancy adds, patting Steve’s back.

“However, it would be easier and faster if we had three pairs of hands and not two and a lump on the floor.” Jonathan says as he nudges Steve with his foot. The smile is apparent in his voice.

Steve sighs dramatically and rolls onto his back. He puts his arms up and waits.

“You’re ridiculous...” Nancy shakes her head with a grin. She stands and grabs one hand while Jonathan grabs the other. Together they pull him up to his feet.

“Thank you, my heroes.” Steve says, giving each of them a quick peck on the lips before trying to find where the heck his cleaning stuff is.

The next few hours go by much quicker than any of them expected it to. They put on one of Jonathan’s mixtapes and essentially dance around each other while cleaning. There are a few moments where there is just dancing and no cleaning, but no one’s complaining.

Eventually, they end up sitting on the couch together with Nancy and Jonathan sitting shoulder to shoulder and Steve laying his upper body across their laps. They all smell somewhat of sweat, dust, and lemon cleaner, but they don’t care.

“I would still like to know how punch managed to get on the ceiling.” Jonathan says idly. He plays with a few strands of Steve’s hair with one hand and has his other arm over Nancy’s shoulder.

“Those boys are a different species. That’s all I know.” Nancy shrugs, leaning into Jonathan.

“Ain’t that the truth...” Steve mumbles. He closes his eyes for a moment before looking up at the other two.

“Hey, thanks for helping me. You didn’t have to.” Steve says softly.

“Of course.” Nancy smiles softly at him, resting her hand on his belly.

“You can always count on us.” Jonathan adds. Steve turns in their laps so his face and stomach are pressed into their middles.

“I would just die without you two. You know that right?” Steve’s voice is slightly muffled, and he can feel the movement of their middles as they chuckle.

“We love you too, Steve.” Nancy says.

[cicada-bones]

The Warrior and the Embers

Chapter 14: The Assassin

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

That night Rowan lay awake, brooding.

He had been jerked from his usual nightmares, and could still feel the blood dripping from his fingers, see the faces of her killers, feel the heat on his skin of his home in flames. He wondered idly if the images would always weigh on him so, if he would never be free of them. He wondered if he even wanted to be.

Rowan sighed, shifting his thoughts away from such pointlessness. He had lost his mate, his life partner. He would always be searching, forever waiting for her to reappear, until he finally joined her in the Afterworld.

Instead, Rowan turned his thoughts to the questions the girl had thrown at him that afternoon. It had almost seemed as though she was skirting around the subject, avoiding asking about what really interested her. Not that he didn’t suspect what was really on her mind.

And this time, her curiosity hadn’t irritated him. Most of the questions she’d voiced aloud had revolved around the life of Fae. She had lived most of her life in ignorance of half of her heritage – of her very identity. Rowan didn’t fault her for wanting to understand her own family and history.

And the princess had made a deal with Maeve knowing even less about Fae than he had originally suspected. She had absolutely no idea who she made a bargain with, no idea what awaited her Doranelle. What she would likely be forced into when he took her there.

For now he had little doubt that the girl would eventually pass his tests, and he would be forced by the blood oath to abide by Maeve’s orders, and bring the girl to the city of rivers. But he was still unsure what Maeve would do upon their arrival, what she really wanted from the girl. The obvious answer was that she wanted her for her power, wanted to use her. Perhaps even wanted her to swear the blood oath, and join her warrior court.

But all of them had taken the oath willingly, regardless of their feelings about it now, and the Heir of Terrasen had no intention of becoming a weapon in his queen’s arsenal. She had her own agenda, her own questions for Maeve. Not that Rowan had any idea what those were.

Obviously, Maeve was planning something, and the princess would walk into Doranelle unprepared and unawares. And Rowan would be the one who took her there. For some reason, that didn’t sit well with him.

Rowan turned over, facing away from the stream of moonlight spreading across the bedcovers and instead turning to the blank stone wall of the small, cold room.

The fire he’d set before he’d fallen asleep had long since burned out, but he could still taste its embers in the air, a memory of the flicker of flames. So similar to the scent of the princess’ power.

Rowan swallowed. He could almost taste it – the girl’s blood in his mouth. Like an echo, or a pale remnant. Something twisted in his gut.

It had been strange, today, speaking to her without any animosity. To have some level of peace flow between them. The scent of her flames didn’t even disconcert him anymore.

Not that Rowan had any idea what the girl’s attitude was towards him. Earlier, he hadn’t cared, hadn’t thought of her beyond just an infuriating chore, a punishment he had to endure. But now she was a person, albeit an irritating one. And Rowan couldn’t help wondering what she thought.

He knew she didn’t understand the significance of biting in Fae culture, and at the time he hadn’t found it within himself to fully explain it to her. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to explain even now. He told himself it was nothing – she’d provoked him one to many times, he’d lost control of himself, and that was that.

Even so, the girl was an enigma. So much so that he couldn’t stop thinking about her – no matter how much he wanted to. She was a frustrating puzzle, one he couldn’t put down until it was solved.

He hadn’t considered it much before, but he’d never been able to speak with anyone in such a way either. It was almost like he could read the girl’s thoughts in her eyes. No matter how confusing she was, that part of her was simple. Easy. And Rowan trusted it implicitly – knew that he wasn’t seeing things, or misreading her.

It was strange, to have such a connection with the princess, when everything else was so confusing. Very strange.

Rowan turned over again, shutting out the faint moonlight and letting his thoughts settle back down into sleep. It was restless though, barely a doze, and permeated through with flickers of flame and blood and darkness.

···

Around mid-morning, Malakai interrupted Rowan’s usual pattern by knocking on his door, his face drawn tight with anxiety. Rowan just looked at him, waiting for the old male to speak.

“Prince.” Malakai swallowed. “I’ve just received notice that another body has been found.” Rowan’s jaw tightened, that familiar fury writhing in his gut.

“It wasn’t from the long-range scouts either. The report came from Bas, who just completed a foray into the west. His task was to make a circuit of the western flank, cutting a line through the southwest, along the coast, and then back up along the northern diagonal.”

Malakai paused momentarily, clenching his teeth at the words he had to deliver. “But then on his way back, he found the body of a demi-Fae female, half submerged in a stream on the edge of the pine forest, barely three miles from the sea.”

“Any discrepancies?”

“None that Bas could convey – but he hasn’t seen any of the other bodies in person, only heard tell of them from me or the other scouts. So it’s possible he didn’t know what to look for.”

Rowan grunted. “Has the body been identified?”

“No and once again, she hadn’t been reported missing. We have no idea who she was, where she came from, or why she was killed.” Malakai paused, then asked hesitantly, “Are you going to go view the site?”

Rowan nodded gruffly, his lips pursed, most of his attention focused inwards. Malakai inclined his head in return and left without another word, heading back towards the sentry station. Once the male was out of sight, Rowan cursed loudly.

A familiar guilt and shame had now joined the anger roiling in his stomach. He wasn't protecting the demi-Fae, wasn't preventing these deaths. He was failing, he would keep failing until he could solve this problem, could figure out whatever the hell he was missing…

He turned back to sit at the desk, grabbing a map of the western flank of the fortress. He knew the circuits made by the sentries, and could find the approximate location of the body without the Malakai’s help. He would wait until he visited the site before marking the exact location on the map however.

Rowan noted the date and time, then cursed violently again. It was too late for him to go visit the body before he had to collect the girl. He could either cancel training for the day, go that evening after leaving the girl alone for the night, or…he could take her with him. The site was just close enough for them to walk.

And, she had lived and worked in the assassin’s keep, among murderers and thieves. Been trained as a killer herself. While it irked him to resort to asking the girl for help, she wasn’t unintelligent. Perhaps she would have some useful insight. And it would give him a break from the endless sitting, the insufferable waiting for the shift that seemed like it would never come. Give them both a chance to do something actually productive with their afternoon.

Half an hour later, Rowan stood outside the kitchens, shifting his weight in irritation. She was late. He sighed, then moved to collect her from her rooms.

The girl’s door was open, and inside she was shrugging on her jacket and hastily pulling her golden hair into a loose braid. It was brighter, much shinier than when she’d first arrived at Mistward. Healthier. Probably from the consistent access to food and bathwater.

Rowan leaned against the doorframe. “You’re already late.”

She turned to face him, “There were extra dishes this morning,” she replied calmly, not reacting to the frustration in his voice. “Can I expect to do something useful with you today, or will it be more sitting and growling and glaring? Or will I just wind up chopping wood for hours on end?”

Rowan just turned and strode into the hall, the girl’s taunts unable to ruffle him. She followed soon after, her steps light and spirited, her fingers still tangling in the unfinished braid at her shoulder.

As they headed out of the fortress, her scent wafted over him as usual. But something about it seemed slightly different today, almost…cleaner. The lemon verbena was stronger, sharper, while the jasmine was more herbal. More like a salve, or a tea. Perfectly bittersweet. Also it was easier to smell Terrasen on her, easier to scent those tiny hints of biting wind, evergreen, and ice – of her throne.

The hostile scent she’d put out was gone, had ebbed away. Something had evidently shifted in the girl, an edge had been soothed.

And it showed in other ways, too: as they walked past a few off-duty sentries on their way out of the fortress, she looked them in the eye and smiled a greeting. They both flinched slightly in surprise, blinking, their nostrils flaring as they also took in the change.

Both males returned her grin, and they hesitated on the stairs beside them. Rowan had to lock his teeth together to prevent a growl. What was wrong with him today?

She just kept following him across the courtyard and past the front gates, without acknowledging the warm greeting given by the two males. However, her brow furrowed and her newly clean scent was polluted by the stink of confusion and irritation. Obviously, she didn’t understand the sudden change in behavior.

The smell of her whirling emotions only intensified as they walked, heading south and up into the mountains. So eventually Rowan said, “They’ve all been keeping their distance because of the scent you put out.”

“Excuse me?” She was practically indignant. Rowan was almost amused. The assassin really knew so little about the ways of the Fae.

“There are more males than females here – and they’re fairly isolated from the world. Haven’t you wondered why they haven’t approached you?”

“They stayed away because I…smell?” Her face burned a dull rose. Rowan suppressed a flicker of a grin.

“Your scent says that you don’t want to be approached. The males smell it more than the females, and have been staying the hell away. They don’t want their faces clawed off.”

Her mouth opened slightly, her eyes widening. It seemed she didn’t know how to react to that. Eventually, she said, “Good. I’m not interested in men- males.”

Rowan stared pointedly at the amethyst ring resting on one of her fingers. She never took it off - obviously, whoever had given the trinket to her mattered. She cared about him, longed for him. Unless he had misread the taste of the man in her blood.

So he couldn’t help but ask, “What happens if you become queen? Will you refuse a potential alliance through marriage?”

Her lips pursed, her breath huffing out. But Rowan didn’t think she was reacting to his dig at her lover – instead she seemed sensitive to his reference to her throne. To the idea of becoming queen. Aelin Galathynius still rejected the truth of her own identity.

She turned inwards, then shook herself back to reality. She almost rolled her eyes. Instead of taking his question honestly, the girl decided to treat it as a taunt, and responded only with, “Nice try.”

He smirked, letting the mood lighten. “You’re learning.”

“You get baited by me every now and then, too, you know.”

Rowan just looked at her slyly. I let you bait me, in case you haven’t noticed. I’m not some mortal fool.

There was a moment of silence, then, “Where the hell are we going today? We never head west.”

The grin vanished from his face, her words a stark reminder of what was awaiting them. “You want to do something useful. So here’s your chance.”

···

It wasn’t until after three in the afternoon that they finally reached the edge of the pine wood, the girl’s mortal pace slowing them to a crawl. He’d almost been ready to tear out his own hair.

As they grew closer, Rowan carefully tracked their path through the trees, marking every stone, stump, and fallen log. He could hear the crash of the sea against the surf and the cries of gulls overhead, while the scent of brine and fish wafted towards them from the west. Behind him, the girl’s booted feet crunched into the pine needles carpeting the forest floor. The wind began to whisper to him of trickling water, the pattering feet of small creatures, the scent of death and –

The dark shape of a body sending ripples in the stream ahead.

It was the same as all the others. The body of a demi-Fae female lay wedged between the rocks of a slow-moving creek, the running water not yet rotted her. The body was a dried husk, withered and desiccated and shrunken, protected from the force of the moving water.

The assassin swore violently, her scent flaring with fury and horror.

Even though Rowan had known what to expect, his reaction was much the same as the girl’s. Particularly as the foul stench began to bore into him, filling up his mouth and nose with its putrid, nauseating reek. It almost felt like it was pitting holes in his throat, like he was breathing acid.

The assassin moved closer, examining the body and the surrounding earth. The ground had been churned up, the brush broken and trampled. There were no wounds on the female, save for those trickles of dried blood from her mouth and ears. And just like the others, the demi-Fae’s face was twisted, contorted by terror and sorrow alike.

“What did this?” the girl asked, her voice soft and open with shock. Rowan knelt beside her, examining the remains more closely while the assassin turned to study the surrounding brush. “Why not just dump her in the sea? Leaving her in a stream seems idiotic. They left tracks, too – unless those are from whoever found her.”

“Malakai gave me the report this morning – and he and his men are trained not to leave tracks.” He strode into the water, continuing his examination. “But this scent…I’ll admit it’s different.”

Rowan’s jaw clenched tight. He could only barely contain his fury at the destroyed body. He didn’t want the girl’s questions, he wanted her experience. His eyes flashed to hers. “So you tell me, assassin. You wanted to be useful.”

She bristled slightly at his tone, but then sniffed. And winced violently. He honestly didn’t blame her. “You claimed you didn’t know what that thing in the barrow field was,” she responded through bated breath, “I think this is what it does.”

So the girl had made the connection as well, and with mortal senses to boot. Rowan inhaled deeply again, bracing his hands on his hips to drive away the nausea. He couldn’t ignore it any more – it was the dark creature from the barrow fields that was committing these killings. When they’d chanced upon it, all those weeks ago, the girl had only barely escaped with her life.

Rowan’s eyes scanned over her, remembering how she had looked after appearing from the black cloud. “You came out of that darkness looking as if someone had sucked the life from you. Your skin was a shade paler, your freckles gone.”

She hesitated, pursing her lips, then said, “It forced me to go through … memories. The worst kind.” Her eyes roved over the female’s terrified features. “Have you ever heard of a creature that can feed on such things? When I glimpsed it, I saw a man – a beautiful man, pale and dark-haired, with eyes of full black. He wasn’t human. I mean, he looked it, but his eyes – they weren’t human at all.”

Rowan grimaced at his own ignorance. “Even my queen doesn’t know every foul creature roaming these lands. If the skinwalkers are venturing down from the mountains, perhaps other things are, too.”

The girl turned towards the south, where they’d heard bells chiming only a few minute ago. “The townspeople might know something. Maybe they’ve seen it or heard rumors.”

He shook his head roughly, “We don’t have the time; you wasted daylight by coming here in your human form.” He couldn’t hide the frustration in his words. Perhaps foolishly, he’d hoped the assassin would’ve proven a greater help. “We have an hour before we head back. Make the most of it.”

They spent the next half hour or so following the faint scent trail left by the female through the underbrush, as there was no trace left of the creature. But it only led to the edge of the cliff overlooking the sea, with no easy path to the beach below nor any sign of recent habitation nearby. Perhaps the demi-Fae female could shift, and had appeared there. Either that or she had dropped from the sky.

Rowan stared out at the ocean, arms crossed, fury pulsing through him with each beat of his heart. “It doesn’t make sense,” he said, more to himself than to her. “This is the fourth body in the last few weeks – none of them reported missing.” He squatted on the sandy ground and drew a rough line in the dirt with a tattooed finger. The shape of Wendlyn’s coastline.

“They’ve been found here.” He marked each location of the body sites from as small dots in the dirt, all close to the coast. “We’re here,” he said, making another dot. He sat back on his heels as the assassin leaned over to peer at the crude map. “And yet you and I encountered the creature lurking amongst the barrow-wights here,” he added, and drew an X to mark the location of the barrow mounds, deep inland. “I haven’t seen any further signs of it remaining by the barrows, and the wights have returned to their usual habits.”

“Were the other bodies the same?”

“All were drained like this, with expressions of terror on their faces – not a hint of a wound, beyond dried blood at the nose and ears.”

“All dumped in the forest, not the sea?”

He nodded.

“But all within walking distance of the water.”

He nodded again.

“If it were a skilled, sentient killer, it would hide the bodies better. Or, again, use the sea.” She gazed off towards the ocean, the sun beginning to descend over the waves. “Or maybe it doesn’t care. Maybe it wants us to know what it’s doing. There were – there were times when I left bodies so that they’d be found by a certain person, or to send a type of message.” Her voice was tight and hesitant, restraining some deep emotion. “What do the victims have in common?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “We don’t even know their names or where they came from.” He rose and dusted his hands off. “We need to return to the fortress.”

She grabbed his elbow, and he had to restrain himself from swatting her hand away. “Wait. Have you seen enough of the body?”

He nodded slowly.

“Then we’ve got to bury her.”

He cocked his head. “The ground’s too hard here.”

She stalked out towards the forest, saying, “Then we’ll do it the ancient way.”

He followed her reluctantly, but within a few minutes they returned to the section of the stream where the demi-Fae female lay, slowly rotting under the pressure of the running water. The assassin heaved the body out from between the rocks and onto the dry bed of pine needles next to the crumpled undergrowth. Then she turned, collecting kindling and branches and pine needles and dumping them next to the body.

Though anger filled her scent, sharpening every line of her hard form, the girl knelt carefully beside the body, gently placing the gathered wood. Assembling a funeral pyre for the unknown female.

Rowan just watched, not saying anything at all as the Heir of Fire struggled to create a flame by hand, those iron bars within her never seeming colder, or more like a cage, than they did in that moment.

After a few strokes of her rudimentary flint, the pine needles began to smoke, and the branches caught, the flames leaping across the pyre to cradle the form of the dead female, a final embrace.

Aelin rose and moved away from the burning body, while Rowan stepped forwards to stand beside her. He called a wind towards them, feeding the slowly dancing flames with his power.

Aelin’s eyes were dark and hooded, her mouth set in a hard line. But she looked at the steadily burning body as if it held answers for her, as if it held punishment, or absolution. That, at least, Rowan understood. The grief, and the guilt that never went away, was always there, hidden just beneath. The assassin looked at the body as if it offered her the atonement she surely sought.

The two of them stood, the warrior and the assassin, holding a vigil for the dead demi-Fae until her body was nothing but ashes. The silence between them was heavy with fury and sorrow, but for the first time, those emotions were not directed at each other. Instead, the pair of them burned together, their shared anger itself a way to pay respect to the dead female.

A silent promise – your death will not be in vain. We will witness, and take your revenge. We will ensure that no others share your fate.

Rowan felt that promise echo in his bones as he lifted the ashes of the dead female on a swift wind, carrying them up and away, over the trees and towards the sea beyond.

···

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

[banditthewriter]

Redolence - Billy Russo - 2

Part two of this A/B/O series. I’m so glad people seem to be enjoying it! Reminder, I use a comprehensive set of warnings so please be mindful. If you have questions or concerns, shoot me a message!

Redolence: the quality of smelling strongly of something or of having qualities (especially smells) that make you think of something else

Warnings: Smut. No really, lots of smut. Also angst because yeah. Sex in various positions. Oral sex (male and female receiving.) The reader does sleep with other Alphas but it is only ever mentioned, never described. Some talk of slave trade, not detailed. Angry sex. Unprotected sex. Reader experiences a bad panic attack that is described.

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

*gif not mine*

Enjoy!

*****

You lost track of the number of orgasms and positions. Somewhere around fifteen hours after Billy got there, you finally could sense that he was no longer in his rut. There were empty bottles of Gatorade all over your room as well as packs of applesauce and bags of chips. 

Once he was finally spent, you told Billy he could take a shower and showed him what items he could use. Although he wasn’t in his rut anymore, his senses would still be heightened for a few days. 

He disappeared into the bathroom after hesitating in the doorway. With the door shut, you went about getting the room cleaned up a bit. You stepped into your laundry room to wipe yourself down with a wet cloth before you pulled on some clean clothes. Then you went back into your room to find his clothes and fold them for him.

You felt like you had been put in a dryer. All of your limbs barely cooperated with your thoughts. There was a lazy satisfaction that ran over you. 

Most Alphas were more concerned with their own release and didn’t bother much with if you enjoyed the sex. There were plenty that made you feel good and you enjoyed it, sure, but this? This was something different.

If things were different, this might have ruined you for other Alphas. 

That thought made you pause as you laid his shirt out with his pants. You shouldn’t feel so attached to an Alpha at all, but especially not one who obviously has so much baggage. You could only hope that he enjoyed himself and that you helped him in his time of need.

You went to the touch screen next to your door and checked for any messages first. When you didn’t see anything, you went to the desk drawer where you kept your phone. The only people who had the number were Karen and your family, so you didn’t check it often. Karen would usually just send a message to your apartment if she needed you for anything since that was the easiest way to contact you. 

And your family rarely reached out to you anymore.

Karen had sent a message to ask if you had an Alpha. It had come almost twelve hours before so you sent her a response and put the phone back up. Then you went into the kitchen to clean up a little more.

“I left the towel in the bathroom,” Billy said as he walked into the living room.

You smiled and went over to him. He was dressed in his clothes from before, but there was a rumpled look to him that made you a little weak in the knees. The shirt was wrinkled from being on the floor for so long. You longed to straighten it out with your hands but you didn’t reach out to him.

“That’s fine,” you said as you looked him over. “Do you want something to drink? I was just about to make some tea. Or maybe coffee since it’s morning now.”

Billy nodded and followed you into the kitchen. He sat down at the table while you worked at the coffee pot. You hummed a little bit as you measured out the grounds. Then you turned and gave him an appraising look while he was distracted by something on your kitchen table.

He looked good. You knew last night that he was handsome, had seen him in the midst of his passion, but you still couldn’t forget how withdrawn he was when he first got to your apartment. He had been so tense and sat so stiffly on your couch. But now? His limbs were relaxed, his back wasn’t ramrod straight, and his hands weren’t in fists.

“Is this part of your routine?”

You let out a curious noise as you reached up for two mugs for the coffee. When you looked back at Billy, he was staring at you from the table.

“Make them comfortable before and after?”

You tapped your fingers on the counter as you stared at him. Most Alphas didn’t question the Omega during these sessions. While you were there to help the Alpha through their rut, it was on the Omega’s terms. If you were unhappy or uncomfortable, you would press your ID and an alert would sound. The Betas that ran the center would come in an instant to help escort the Alpha out if that was necessary.

You’d never had to use that button at least.

But the rules were pretty much written in bold letters. Once the Alpha was in the apartment, they followed the Omega’s lead. It was up to the Omega to know what to do and what the Alpha needed. And you definitely never talked about other Alphas.

“If you don’t want any coffee, I’m not going to force you to stay and have some. The door will unlock if you turn the knob.”

He shook his head before he tore his eyes from you. You saw that he was looking at the door, but he didn’t stand or make a move in that direction.

“Forget I ask.”

Not wanting to undo the relaxation he had achieved with you, you poured a cup of coffee and put it on the table in front of him. Then you offered him the cream and sugar. Once both of you had made your cups how you wanted them, you settled down at the table with him.

“It’s early. Will you be going back to your place or do you have to be to work this morning?”

Billy looked at you over his cup. You watched as he blew on the surface before he took a sip.

“I can work from home today. I told a few of my employees that I would be unreachable.”

You could imagine that was an uncomfortable conversation for him to have. Instead of pressing him on it, you went back to your own cup.

This was one of the ways you liked to wind down with an Alpha that you had enjoyed the company of. And you had enjoyed spending time with Billy. It wasn’t just the sex, although that was definitely going to the top of your list of best nights ever. It was just him. Every time he let his guard down to show you a little bit of himself, you felt as if you had won some sort of reward.

Once the coffee cups were empty, you put them in the sink and then walked Billy to the door. There was no way you could stretch the leaving out anymore.

“Well it’s been my pleasure to assist you today Billy. I hope you are satisfied as well.”

He gave you a bit of a smirk that made you want to kick yourself. Usually your comments, even after sex, weren’t construed with so much innuendo. What was it about him…

“I appreciate your help,” he said sincerely with a bow of his head. Then, after you pulled the door open for him, he looked at you with a curious expression. “Can… would it be okay if I requested you again in the future?”

In the years that you’d done this, you weren’t sure that an Alpha had ever actually asked permission. Some told you that they would request you, but otherwise they just went ahead and did it.

“Of course,” you said honestly as you stepped in closer to him, “I would be happy to assist you again in the future.”

Billy’s eyes narrowed a bit before he gave you a nod. Then he leaned in and pressed his lips to your cheek before he slipped from your apartment.

You waited for him to get into the elevator before you shut the door. Then you raised a hand to press your fingers against your cheek where his lips had been. None of the Alphas had ever… well, you tried to keep your distance after they showered. You did it for them, to keep them from being drenched in your scent since you hadn’t showered yet.

Billy didn’t seem to mind smelling like you. Or maybe he just wasn’t used to the etiquette. So many things from tonight made you think that he didn’t follow etiquette or society’s rules. Not that you really minded, but it had been strange.

Five years since he’d been at the center, back before it was the Companion Center. It was first come, first served in those days. An Alpha would show up, get taken to a room with an Omega on a bed in presentation, then they’d spend the rut like that. 

You never would have joined if it had been like that. Now you weren’t just treated like a human, you were treated like a revered member of society. 

But Billy hadn’t treated you like how you assumed the Omegas used to be treated. He treated you with care, with a sense of intimacy you weren’t used to with Alphas.

You walked through the apartment and to the bathroom. The towel hung from the rack and you grabbed it to drop into the hamper. Then you put all of the bland toiletries back in the box under your sink before you stripped off your clothes to get into the shower. With your own soap and shampoo, you were feeling a little more like yourself.

After you were clean, you stripped the bed and put those linens in the same hamper with the towel and washcloth. Those would go to a separate cleaner to be washed and then put in new vacuum sealed packages. The rest of your clothes you washed in the apartment yourself.

The bed made in fresh, lemon scented linens, you turned off the lights in the apartment. You slipped under the blanket in your bed and closed your eyes. Even though you could still clearly picture Billy in the bed with you, you tried to force the image away. You needed to rest so that you could let the center know that you’d need a few days before you could accept any new Alphas. 

Although after fifteen hours, you doubted they’d blame you.

------

“How’re you feeling?”

Karen looked over at you and smiled, her eyes red from lack of sleep. At least you hoped it was just from lack of sleep.

“I could barely sleep after he left,” she admitted as she curled up on the couch next to you. “I don’t know why I thought it was going to be different this time.”

“Oh honey,” you whispered as you held her to you.

Frank had gone into his rut right on time, six months to the last time he was there. Karen had been locked up with him for a few hours before he was better. And since his ruts had never lasted too long, he couldn’t dawdle and had to leave soon after. 

“Have you brought up leaving the center? Not for him,” you said quickly because you knew Karen would try to protest that otherwise, “but for yourself. Come on Karen, we both know you’re not going to stay a companion for much longer. With or without Alpha Frank.”

She wiped at her eyes and laid her head on your shoulder.

“I’m scared that if I tell him that he won’t want me to move in with him, but I’m also scared that he will want me to move in with him. I just don’t know what I want.”

You grabbed her hand and lifted it to give a kiss to her knuckles, earning a laugh from her.

“You’ll leave for you, because you don’t want to do this for the long term. And whether or not he wants to move in with you, he’ll at least want to see you more often, we both know that. So you’ll get to see him more and more and one day, when it’s right, it’ll become permanent.”

Karen frowned but you knew she wasn’t upset at your words. No, that was the face she made when she was thinking about something seriously.

“Your decision isn’t centered around him. He can be part of the reason, but you have to do what’s best for you.”

Logic and reason were the best ways to get through to Karen. And sure enough she gave a slow nod.

“I’ll think about it,” she promised as she settled in closer to you, grabbing the remote to unmute the movie the two of you were watching. 

Silence overtook the two of you. You were caught up in worrying about Karen and her future that you didn’t even notice when her attention shifted. She was focused more and more on you. When you did notice that she was staring, you looked over at her.

“What?”

She shrugged her shoulder at first but then she shook her head. The two of you didn’t keep secrets, not from each other.

“How have you been? After that… one Alpha?”

Billy. 

Karen had come by a few hours after he left and she had noticed the difference in your scent and the way that you seemed to be on a delay almost. You told her it was just a long night, explained that his ruts had been irregular, but Karen was your best friend. And she was an investigative journalist in her free time. She could hunt out a story like no one else.

You told her that it had felt different, but that you weren’t sure why. She thought that maybe you were just intrigued by the man, a surface attraction made complicated by having sex. It sounded as good as anything you had thought of, so you were happy to agree with her on it.

“I’m fine Karen,” you told her in a tone that said this wasn’t open for conversation. “I had another Alpha just a few days ago and everything was fine and normal. I think I was just thrown by how different he is.”

Because any other explanation wasn’t an option. 

“Just be careful,” Karen said as she leaned back a bit to turn towards the television, “I don’t want you to have to go through what I’ve been dealing with.”

You completely understood that.

------

The touchscreen next to your door chimed for the second time that day. You already had a request for a few days from now so you knew you wouldn’t be able to accept another request. You went over to the screen to go ahead and decline it but you froze when you saw the name and ID.

659437. William Russo. It was Billy.

It was barely a month since he had been in a rut the last time. And once again the time showed that he would be there that evening. 

His ruts were very irregular. Those suppressants had done a number on his physiology. 

You tapped the green square and turned away from the screen as it thanked you for accepting the Alpha. Instead you went through your routine for a distraction. You got food and drinks ready before you went in to strip and remake your bed. Then you stripped your clothes to take a shower with the unscented soaps.

He would be there soon. He would be in your apartment again. You wished you could say that your racing heart was normal, but you knew that it wasn’t.

You dressed in some comfortable clothing and went into the living room. You didn’t have long to wait before the touchscreen chimed that someone was there. In a rush you went to the screen and checked to make sure it was him. 

This time you didn’t ask for his ID. You set the touchscreen to ‘do not disturb’ and opened the door. He blinked in surprise before he gave you the beginning of a smile.

“Come on in,” you said as you opened the door wider.

He slipped in past you and then hovered in the foyer like he did the first time. It was endearing because most Alphas didn’t hesitate to make themselves at home the second time they were in the apartment. 

“Make yourself at home,” you said as you shut the door and made sure the lock was engaged. You saw that he was wearing a jacket this time and you reached out to slide it off his shoulders as if you did it a thousand times before.

He let you pull it off of him. You hung it up next to the door and then gestured at the couch. He followed your lead. Unlike the first time, you didn’t bother sitting on the loveseat. You settled onto the couch next to him. 

“Are you hungry? I could make grilled cheese and soup. It’ll be from a can, but that’s just for our health.”

That quirky little grin started to spread. You couldn’t remember seeing many smiles from him the last time, so it was a surprise to get it from him so soon this visit.

“Are you saying that you’re not a good cook?”

You laughed and leaned back against the cushions a bit, relaxing your shoulders.

“Some things I can cook without problem, other things tend to come out… bad.”

He laughed at that and you were struck by how it made his face light up. His eyes were nearly sparkling when he looked at you.

“I wouldn’t want you to burn down the center,” he said as he shifted in his seat a bit to face you. “I’m not hungry right now. But thanks for offering.”

Your head cocked to the side as you stared at him. Normally you wouldn’t say anything, even if it was an Alpha that you’d seen multiple times, but you felt at ease with Billy. 

“You seem different,” you said as you looked him over.

He nodded, his eyes closing for a moment. You wondered if he was picturing something, but you saw the way his nostrils flared a bit. He was inhaling your scent from the distance.

“Last time I was here was the first time I’d been in public since the accident. This is more like how I am.”

You let out an understanding hum. His eyes opened to you again and you gave him a smile as you reached out towards him. He inclined his head to give you permission. 

Your fingers ran through his slightly longer hair, feeling the difference from the close cropped haircut when he had been here a month ago. It had the added benefit of placing your wrist right next to his nose. He inhaled the scent there, his mouth dropping open as he did.

“I didn’t mind you being more reserved,” you explained as you continued to run your nails over his scalp, “I just noticed that you were different.”

And maybe there was a part of you that wondered if it had anything to do with you. You weren’t sure that you didn’t help, but you weren’t about to ask about that. Although there was something else that you wanted to ask. 

The last time he was here, you did ask him personal questions about his rut. You weren’t about to take advantage of the strange closeness the two of you already had, so you asked permission again.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

His eyes settled on you. The last time you asked that, he thought you were going to ask about his accident but you’d asked about his rut. Maybe he remembered that because you saw the corner of his mouth quirk up a bit.

“You want to know why I’m back in my rut so soon.”

It wasn’t a question. He said it as if he already knew that’s what you were going to ask. And since it was, you gave him a nod.

His hand went to your wrist and he pulled it down to hang between the two of you. He ran his thumb across the inside of your wrist a few times before he met your eyes again.

“The doctors say with me being on suppressants during my time in the Marines and then having to be on them when I was healing up, my ruts are going to be irregular for a while. They weren’t exactly regular before I joined the military either.”

You nodded your understanding. With your wrist still in his hold, you shifted your body a little closer to his. 

“That can’t be easy. I’m glad that you’ve come back to the Companion Center for assistance.”

He looked you over like he wanted to say something, but he kept it to himself. You weren’t going to pry. Instead you looked away from Billy for a moment. The last time you could tell when his rut was kicking in, but he wasn’t there yet. With more exposure to your scent, he’d be caught up in it soon.

“Come here,” he asked, no trace of Alpha compulsion in his voice as he gave a little tug to your wrist. 

You weren’t sure what he meant at first since your knee was already pressed to his. You finally realized that he wanted you in his lap when he tugged you a little closer, his legs splaying out a bit. 

With a grin, you moved so that you were on his lap. He situated you until you were facing him, your legs on either side of his hips. This was a man that you’d had a lot of sex with just a month before, but there was something almost embarrassing about being in this position with your clothes on. Maybe being a companion had skewed your view on propriety.

“You’re body is warm,” he said as he leaned in to sniff at your neck, the beard tickling your neck as he did. “I like feeling you against me.”

Oh no. It seemed that now that he was more himself, he was talker. And normally that didn’t bother, but you had a feeling that with Billy it was going to be the death of you. As you settled against him a bit more, letting him take your weight, you reached up and let your hands go to his shoulders.

There was a heat growing, but it wasn’t his fever. The heat was building low in your stomach, lower still. With your legs spread like this, you couldn’t clench your legs together when you realized that you were getting wet already. And he hadn’t even touched you. This wasn’t you mirroring him, this was your body reacting to the man under you.

Not the Alpha, the man. 

This was bad, but you weren’t going to stop.

You watched him inhale deeply once more, but you knew he wasn’t scenting you. No, he could smell your arousal. You bit your lip as you waited to see what reaction that would get. 

The reaction was fairly instant. He wrapped one arm under your butt and the other around your waist, holding you to him as he stood up. He held you there against him for a long moment before he set you down. Your breath came out in a puff of air as you tried to think about what you could say, how you could apologize for your body’s reaction, but you didn’t need to.

This time it was Billy dragging you to the bedroom instead of the other way around. He let go of you inside of the room so that you could lower the lights, but then he was on you once more. His mouth descended onto yours, his hands wrapping around your wrists and pinning them to the wall above your head. Your body tried to rock against his, desperate for friction. He thrust his leg between your thighs to give you something to rub against.

“Take off your clothes,” he requested when he finally stepped away from you.

You remembered that he had wanted to do that the first time, but it seemed like he wasn’t interested in taking it slow and exploring right now. You didn’t mind. You tore off your clothes as quickly as you could, gratified to see that he was doing the same. As you turned back to him, finally naked, you were pushed down against the bed. Before you could think, his mouth was on you. He went down on you like he was a man starving and you were the first meal he’d had in months. You held on to his slightly longer hair as you moved your hips, rubbing your pussy against his mouth. He went from sucking on your clit to thrusting his tongue inside of you, keeping you on edge with just his mouth. Then, when you were sure you were going to come, he pushed his fingers inside of you. 

He kept up at it until you were shaking against him, your moans echoing in the room. After a few moments of him still lapping at your clit lazily, he sat up and wiped his mouth against the back of his arm.

He leaned up over your body to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. You dragged your tongue against his bottom lip, laving at the split there in the corner where his scars were. The scent of him wasn’t as heady and spicy as it was when an Alpha was in the throes of his rut, so you were confronted with the fact that this wasn’t Alpha Billy that had just made you come like that.

That was just Billy.

He pulled away and nuzzled against your neck, his tongue working over your scent gland. You arched up into him, feeling his hard cock against your thigh. When he sat up, you could feel the heat where his skin was pressed against yours.

His rut was finally kicking in. He reached over to where he remembered the condoms being stashed, pulling the box out and keeping it within reach. Same as the first time, he handed you the foil to put on him.

You slid the condom onto his cock and gave it a few pumps, feeling the weight and the heat through the latex. You’d like to get your mouth on him again but he had your legs spread too wide for you to be able to bend that far down. Instead he raised your legs up, hooking them over his arms. You reached down to guide him into you, clenching around his cock once he had pushed in completely. He moaned into your neck before he started to thrust.

The feverish heat of his rut mixed with the powerful force of his thrusts had you gasping and moaning under him, unable to get any leverage but desperate for your climax. You grabbed hold of his shoulders and arms, leaving scratch marks as you urged him to go faster.

“Look at me,” he mumbled into your mouth, “open your eyes for me Y/N.”

You opened your eyes, not sure when you had shut them. He was staring down at you with those almost black eyes, so much emotion flowing through him that you couldn’t catch it all. All you could do is thrust back with him, your body bowing upwards as your orgasm started to build. He lowered his head and bit down on your neck gently as his thrusts became more and more erratic.

You came moments after he did, your body shaking under his. He stayed there for a moment before he pulled out, sitting up to dispose of the condom. 

You didn’t have long to miss the feel of him before he was grabbing a second condom. This time when you put it on him, you did lean over to get your mouth on him. He barely let you do this the first time, but you wanted it. In the back of your mind you wished that you didn’t have the latex barrier, but you pushed that scandalous thought away. Instead you focused on making him feel as good as you could.

“Need to be inside you,” he panted as he pulled you off, kissing you hard as he tugged you onto his lap.

Mirroring the position you’d been in the living room, you were straddling his lap. This time you felt at ease as you reached between the two of you and guided his cock to your entrance. You started to lower yourself slowly, wanting to draw out the stretch and fullness, but he gave a hard thrust upwards. 

As you rode him, your nails scratched down his chest. You were so turned on that you had never felt this desperate to come before. Billy seemed to understand because he kept his hand low on your hip to guide your movements, both of you grinding into each other more than thrusting. You fucked yourself down onto him hard, your hand going between your legs to rub against your clit. His free hand went to your breast to squeeze and pinch at your nipple while both of you worked to your next orgasm.

This one made your eyes go a little fuzzy around the edges. He held you close to him, his face tucked into your neck as he breathed deeply. You moved off of him but after you got rid of that condom and got the next one on him, he pulled you right back into the same position. This time he moved so slowly that you could feel every inch of him inside of you. You held on to his shoulders as you moved to the tempo he set, your pussy clenching around him as you moved against him.

This time when you came, Billy rolled the two of you over so that he could speed up his movements. You tugged him down into a kiss as his hips started to stutter, your tongue rubbing against his as you felt his cock twitch and empty inside of the condom.

And just like before, it seemed his rut was finally falling into cycles at that point. You helped him tidy up before you pulled him under the covers with you. You knew there’d still be a few more hours of this, his rut coming and going for a while longer. 

And you couldn’t help but want to cherish every moment while you had it.

------

“Coffee?”

Billy came into the living room with his hair still a little damp from his shower. You had cleaned up and gone immediately to making coffee. This was the best way you could think to stretch his stay with you.

It’d only been about twelve hours this time. Most ruts only lasted six hours if they were assisted by an Omega, so you figured he’d have a few more longer ruts coming up. You could only hope that he requested you those times too.

No, you shouldn’t hope for that. You should just hope that he got assistance. You shouldn’t want him to request you, shouldn’t look forward to the next time you saw his Alpha ID on your touchscreen.

This was a dangerous mindset to get into.

You expected Billy to take the cup from you and go to the table. Instead he took it away from you and put it on the counter, his mouth falling to yours hungrily. You grabbed hold of his arm, your other hand in his collar as you tugged him closer. The kiss was full of passion and want, his hands on your hips and sliding lower.

As one of his hands tugged you against where you could feel him getting hard, you pushed away from him. Then you covered your mouth with your hand.

You’d just stepped over a line.

“We can’t,” you said as you took a shaking step away, the small of your back smacking into the counter. “We can’t do that.”

His eyes narrowed as he took a step closer to you.

“Why not?”

“Because… because I’m a companion and you’re not in your rut anymore.” You could tell he wasn’t, had been able to tell the moment if faded when he came inside of you for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

“Because it’s not fuck or die anymore? That’s the only time I can touch you?”

You covered your mouth once more, hoping to hold in the emotions that were building in your chest. You wanted him to kiss you again but you knew you couldn’t.

“As a companion, I’m to help an Alpha during their rut. You’ve come to me and I’ve fulfilled my service to you.”

It was completely the wrong thing to say.

Billy turned away from you and marched over to where his jacket hung. He tugged it on and then zipped it up. You watched as he reached for the doorknob, but he didn’t turn it. You didn’t want him to leave, not like this, but you couldn’t stop him. It wouldn’t be fair to stop him.

“You’ve fulfilled your service. And don’t worry, I won’t ask for you again.”

Before you could even process that, he had slammed out of the apartment. You swallowed thickly as you walked on shaking legs over to the touchscreen. The image showed the elevator doors closing with him on the inside. He was gone and you hadn’t even had a moment to tell him…

Tell him what? That you wanted him to kiss you? That you wanted him to pull you into the bedroom when his rut wasn’t a factor? That you wanted… that you wanted.

But you couldn’t go down that road, not with an Alpha that you’d only met twice. Karen and Frank had known each other for a while now and you knew that they only slept with each other during his ruts. 

Billy had already made you come when he wasn’t in his rut. If you took advantage of him that way, you’d be breaking every rule that was in place for companions. They were there for your safety.

But it didn’t matter anymore, did it? He said he wouldn’t ask for you again. And you didn’t think that Billy was one to go back on something he’d said.

With tears in your eyes, you made your way into the bedroom to strip your bed. You needed to get rid of his scent as soon as you could. And then you’d take a shower to wash away the feeling of his touch on you.

You’d never see him again.

X

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