#and when i say my stomach sinks to the floor every time i hear her yelling

[kennedyalike]

my good kitty

short, totally self indulgent scribble <33

leon s. kennedy x kitten!reader

word count: 1.0k

tags: spanking, manhandling, pet names, calling reader ”kitty/kitten”, praise kink, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, p in v sex

She mewled as he bent her over his knee, her ass lifted up in the air. ”L-Leon…can’t take another..” her voice strained as she struggled in the same spot. A low chuckle is heard from him as he starts rubbing over her ass. ”Be a good kitty and take one more, okay?” His big palm circling the skin a few times before it retracts, only to quickly find it’s way back and spank the skin, a red spot already forming. Her body jolts forward and her breath hitches, holding back a gasp. She can already feel herself getting wet. ”Atta girl. I know you love it, don’t you kitten?” He teases as his other arm supports her upper body, lifting her from his knee after the hard spanks.

She looks up at him and nods while setting to sit on the floor, between his legs. His slender fingers settle under her chin, lifting it up as he leans in, kissing her passionetly. His soft lips connecting with hers as he bites the skin of her lower lip when he pulls away from the kiss. ”Lay on the bed, baby. Daddy needs you a little bit.” He whispers and she immedietly pulls herself from the floor, climbing up on the bed next to him and sitting. He leans to his side and caresses hers, pulling her into a sloppy, needy kiss as he starts pulling her shirt off quickly. His big hands grab her tits, squeezing and playing with her hardened nipples. Mumbles and small praises were heard as he quickly rid her of her clothes, now bending her over to lay down on her stomach.

Leon sneaks a hand under her stomach and pulls her closer by the hips. She arches her back, lifting her ass up for him. After undressing himself, Leon’s finger hooks around the fabric of her pink lace panties, teasing it but not pulling it down. She whines slightly, squirming around as she looks to the side, face almost buried in the pillow. Leon is awfully silent as he watched her body, bringing his palm up her plush thighs…soon between them and then she can finally feel his fingers rubbing her clothed pussy through the already dampened fabric.

”Daddy, please…” She whimpers as her hips move in sync with Leon’s fingers rubbing at her slit. ”Shh can’t have you hurting, kitty.” He reassures and finally pulls the fabric to the side, immedietly his two middle fingers dip into her, reaching deep as she moans freely. It’s like music to his ears and he wants to hear more. His fingers pump in and out at a steady pace, he slightly curls the ends of his fingers, finding that sweet spot inside her that has her letting out a rather loud moan. Her knees shake and her back arches more. Small mumbles of ’Daddy…’ and ’please…’ escape her mouth as Leon finally retracts his fingers from her pussy.

He fixes his position and grabs at her hips roughly, immedietly lining his eager cock at her hole. ”Fuck, such an obedient little kitten for daddy, hm? You gonna let daddy have his fun?” She nods mindlessly, arching even more as he pushes himself inside fully. ”So good…nice and full.” He mumbles before starting to move. Her mouth hangs open and a broken moan erupts. ”Yeah? Gonna be a good kitty and let daddy fuck you stupid?” He mocks as he starts pounding into her pussy at a rough pace, holding her hips in place.

”Y-yes..!” She struggles to say through the rough thrusts Leon is delivering, her knees getting weaker every second as she muffles her moans on the pillow, hands squeezing the sheets. ”Good girl.” He praises and pulls out, grabs at her hips and lifts her body. ”Come ride me..” He mumbles and she’s already lifting her hips up on his as Leon sits on the bed, back in touch with the wall. She shyly hovers her hips in the air for a second before sinking down, Leon’s cock dissapearing in her tight hole. He sighs in pleasure and grabs her hips, pulling her fully down and attacking her neck with hungry kisses that would leave behind sheer purple marks. Desperate whines and moans leave her mouth as their movements match with eachother.

Leon’s strong hands are lifting her hips up while she’s slowly moving in sync with him. He groans into the skin of her neck. ”Fuck, you feel so good, so tight.” His words come out breathy and his thrusts are sloppier by the second. Unholy sounds of her moans and whimpers and Leon’s groans and breaths fill the whole bedroom. ”Fuck, wait. Stay still..” He mumbles and her hips come to a stop. Leon’s strong hands wrap around her even tighter as he starts ramming his hips up into hers at a fast speed, fucking her so hard that there’s no thoughts left in her mind. ”Ah! Ohmygod..” A string of moans and curses fall out of her as she holds still, taking all of Leon as he pounds into her. His palms squeeze her ass roughly, spanking it afterwards. ”Taking me so good, fuck. I’m gonna fill you up sweetheart.”

She can’t even think, or answer him at all, just wrapping her hands around his neck and taking his cock, enjoying the pleasure. ”Gonna breed my sweet kitty.” He moans and she nods, not even listening to half the praises that Leon rewards her with. Soon she’s babbling incoherent words as her pleasure finally fills itself and bursts, her orgasm lashing out. Mind foggy with pleasure, her eyes close and she cries out broken moans into the crook of his neck. When Leon feels her tight walls squeezing around him as he keeps his relentless speed, he also reaches his high, thrusting deep into her and holding her hips down. He groans as his cum fills her insides.

”Are you my good kitty?”

”Mhm…yes, daddy” She mumbles back, voice still breathy.

This kitty only thinks about being good for daddy, a dumb little fuck-kitten who pleases daddy.

[sarahisslytherin]

rose garden filled with thorns

peeta mellark x reader

summary: peeta and katniss are just playing their parts, aren't they? sometimes you're not so sure.

contains: angst, jealousy.

a/n: ngl i'm proud of this one. shoutout to @oweninadaydream for being my cheerleader for this fic. gif by @bookcentral.

word count: 840

Just this morning you had woken up in Peeta’s arms; now you watch him glide across the dance floor with Katniss in your place. The Capitol party is in full swing now, pastry-shaped bursts of color flashing past you and music blaring. Snow’s garden is overflowing with people, yet you find yourself with no one to turn to. It seems you’re left with nothing else to do other than seethe in the distance as you sip on what feels like your hundredth drink and your eyes follow the capitol’s “star-crossed lovers”.

You had always been fond of Peeta. You would go as far as to say you might had been harboring a bit of a crush on him all these years. You wished you could’ve told him what to expect at his own games before he was reaped, but you had never found the right moment. There was never a right time to tell him of the horrors he would witness, and learn to live with if he somehow managed to survive. You were thankful for his love for Katniss back then, it is what saved them in the end. But now, after that romance had fizzled out upon their return to District 12, and yours had only begun, you feel the pang of jealousy reverberate in your stomach like the fire of a cannon. 

You can only watch for so long before you feel the need to run off, to escape the scene one way or another. The more you look at them, the more they seem to belong together. Did you really think you would be able to get in the way of their famous love? Peeta swears it’s all an act, that they’re only indulging the public to keep Snow content and the dangers at bay. Part of you wants to believe him, but with the way his hand rests on Katniss’ waist as they dance, the way he seems to gravitate towards her no matter where she is tells you otherwise.

You wander the grounds, your heels sinking into the grass-covered soil with every step. The music from the party fades out the farther away you get, relief washing over you as you realize it. You take refuge in an isolated greenhouse which you find to be brimming with Snow’s signature ivory roses. You try not to pay them mind, beautiful as they may be, because you know just thinking about the man who put you all in this game will make you sick.

Your head is spinning from the heat of the night, from the tight confines of your capitol-friendly attire. You’re in such a daze, you almost don’t notice Peeta’s voice echoing your name until his face is mere inches from yours.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” he scolds you, as if he has any right to. “How could you just run off like that?”

“I’m surprised you even noticed.” you retort, your words slurring a bit. Peeta’s brows knitted as if wanting further explanation. “What with all your attention on your darling fiancé.”

"You can't be serious." he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You know it's not like that."

"How do you think it makes me feel, Peeta? Watching you with her. ever since your games it's been painfully obvious. You loved her then and you love her now."

"Y/n." you hear him groan, but you ramble on.

"I don't know why I lie to myself. I tell myself you moved on, that you love me now. It was stupid. I don't hold a candle to 'the girl on fire'." You barely even notice the tear that dribbles down your cheek until Peeta’s thumb swipes it away. When your gaze meets his it’s like being in the eye of the hurricane, in your own personal haven. 

“It’s all for show, baby. You gotta believe me, it’s all for the Capitol.” he pleads with you, crouching down to meet your eyeline. “Whatever feelings I had for Katniss are gone, I swear.”

You sniffle, helping peeta to dry your tears. “How can you be so sure?”

“How can I be sure?” he repeats, laughing incredulously. “Because every moment I’m with her I spend wishing I was with you.” His hands come up to cradle your face, delicate in his grasp. You know your feelings of inadequacy won’t disappear with a few pretty words, but for now it is enough. Your breathing has steadied, your tears have dried. This isn’t just anyone, it’s Peeta; and he’s your Peeta now.

“C’mon.” he smirks in that way that looks like he's got everything under control. He stands, offering his hand for you to take, and you do. You pull him in by his suit and plant a passionate kiss on his lips. “Let’s get back to the party. You still owe me a dance.” 

You giggle at that, hand in hand as you leave the solitude of the greenhouse. “Alright, Mellark. As long as you don’t step on my toes.” He snickers. “I won’t make any promises.”

[teyamsgrl]

the time has come ✧ neteyam

❗️MDNI ❗️

🗣️ AGEDUP!NETEYAM HAS A BREEDING KINK AND NOBODY CAN CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE - i genuinely love breeding kink fics and i feel like neteyam is one of the best characters for it! he is a family man and just wants to give you all his babies 🥴

°˖➴ warnings: fem omatikaya reader, agedup!neteyam, softdom!neteyam, l-bombs, dirty talk, tsaheylu, BREEDING KINK AHHHHH - tanhì: star, sayrìp: handsome

"i'm so happy for you, tìlì!" you smile, placing a hand on your friend's barely prominent baby bump. "thank you, y/n. it is an amazing feeling" she smiles and squeezes your hand. "first kai'ra, then teläna, now you! so many babies will be coming to the clan soon" you heart swells at the thought, you loved kids and so did neteyam. "when will it be your time, my friend? have you and neteyam discussed it?" you nod, "we definitely want kids, just haven't really timed it out..." "now is the time! your heat has not come yet!" she states and you smile, turning when you hear footsteps approaching. you see tìlì sign, then you spot neteyam. he signs back and smiles, coming to squat behind you. "hey, tanhì" he whispers and pecks your cheek, "hi, sayrìp.. tìlì is pregnant!" you gesture to your friends bump, leaning back into him. "congratulations! i'm sure you and your mate are very happy about this news" he smiles then adds on, "we will have to make you some gifts before they come along". "thank you, neteyam. that is a really sweet gesture" she smiles and starts to get up as you offer your arm to assist her in getting up carefully. you two exchange your goodbyes with her as she exits your tent before you turn to neteyam.

he hums and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into a loving kiss. you smile into it, holding his strong shoulders. he disconnects your lips, bodies still flush against each other. "that is great, her pregnancy news" he says, hands trailing your stomach, "makes me wanna- fuck..." he breathes shakily, something obviously whirring in his mind. "what is it?" you catch his eyes as they travel around the room, "makes me wanna pump you full and get you pregnant too" he hums as his hands form a tight grasp on your waist. a soft whine escapes your lips, your hips gingerly rolling against his thigh. "yeah? does that turn you on, baby? do you want me to breed you?" he whispers, hands now squeezing your ass as your tail thrashes around excitedly. "yes, yes please" you whimper, hips still gyrating against his toned thigh. "fuck..." he exhales, removing your loincloth swiftly before doing the same to your top, tossing them to the side. "my pretty girl..." he brings you down to the floor, kneeling in between your legs and throwing his loincloth somewhere in a frenzied manner, aching to get his cock inside of you and give you a baby. he pumps his cock in his hand a few times before pulling your legs up to rest on his shoulders.

"need the best angle, right babygirl? need all that cum to sink in deep" he licks his lips and lines his cock up, pushing in at a comfortable pace. you moan, nails dragging across the mat underneath you. "p-please, teyam, please" you beg, needing him to rail you more than anything right now. he starts thrusting, his grip on your thighs airtight. he picks up his pace once he gets a rhythm down, his eyes boring into yours. "so fucking good for me, look so good.." he moans as your mouth is agape, whines and whimpers escaping at every thrust. "neteyam.." you mewl, holding up the end of your queue. he visibly shivers, pulling his queue from behind his back and bringing it to yours. you breathe heatedly, watching as the tendrils of both of your queues begin to connect. you sigh as your pupils dilate, beginning to feel all realms of neteyam's pleasure. he groans above you, feeling all that you are in this moment. "you really want me to put a baby in you, don't you?" he moans out, his pace picking up immensely after he began to feel your desperation to be breeded. "yes! i wanna be full of you, want to have your babies!" you squeal, pussy squelching with every movement from your mate.

he croons at the sounds filling your home, balls slapping against your ass. "fuck- they're so heavy, babygirl. do you feel them? holding so much.." you nod frantically, "so heavy.. so big and heavy, sayrìp... need it all" your back arches as he pushes at a particular angle, cervix getting kissed by his tip. "yeah, so close- gonna fill this pussy until there isn't an inch left empty..." he pounds extremely fast, your back continuously arched as he brings you both to edge. "yes! i'm gonna- great mother!" you squeal, "cum with me, babygirl.. fuck- gonna be so pretty, tummy all swelled up" his hand releases your thigh to press on your stomach, groans escaping his mouth as his cock twitches inside, cum flowing out endlessly. your legs shake as your cum soaks him, bodies connected through it all.

your chest is heaving along with his, trying to calm down your breathing. he pulls his cock out of your clenching pussy, replacing it instantaneously with two fingers. you squirm a bit under him, "don't want any escaping, tanhì, can't have that.." he hums as he pushes any dripping cum in further, licking his fingers clean afterwards. you smile and pull him down to you, both of you lying on the floor now. "i love you so much" you whisper, tracing the stripes on his chest with your finger. "i love you so much more" he whispers back, hand coming to rub along your side and stomach. "you're going to be such a good mother" he hums, "gonna look so pretty when pregnant, i meant that". you giggle and kiss his cheek, "i hope so... and you're going to be an amazing father"; your time has come.

[astrophileous]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I need anything fluffy (and I mean the most stomach churning, toe curling, quiet screaming fluff please 🥴🩷) for professor!spencer because I am actually frothing at the mouth DO YOU FEEL ME🗣️‼️ (mwah ily kith kith)

I might have written two blurbs for this request and I might have driven myself crazy trying to determine which one I should post so here's to wishing I didn't make the wrong choice 🤞 this one is special for you avis I hope you enjoy it MWAH 💖

Warning(s): gn!reader, I imagine reader being in grad school but you can imagine reader in college as well--that just means there's gonna be an age gap in there, if professor-student romantic dynamics isn't your thing you shouldn't be reading this, profanities(?), established relationship

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Have a good day, my love.

You grinned giddily at the text message popping up on the screen of your phone. Without wasting another second, your thumbs moved swiftly over the keypad as you typed in a response.

You too, honey. See you tonight at dinner <3

"What are you so smiley about?"

You quickly shoved your phone into the pocket of your pants before looking up towards the owner of the voice. Gladys stood to your left with a quizzical tilt to her eyebrows. Her eyes assessed you from head to toe before they landed back on your face.

"I'm not smiley. Who's smiley?"

"You are." Her eyes squinted. "Something smells fishy."

"You should check your bag. Maybe you accidentally threw your cat's wet food in there again."

"That was one time!"

Gladys scampered after you as you made your way into the lecture hall. Akbar was sitting on the third row when you walked in, immediately scooting over to make room for both Gladys and you to slip into your respective seats.

"Hey, did you guys hear?" Akbar asked as soon as you and Gladys plopped down next to him.

"Hear what?" Gladys asked.

"Apparently, some people are saying that Professor Chuckie is hitched."

Gladys' eyes grew comically wide. "He's what?"

Your brain was working in overdrive, trying to decipher whom exactly Akbar had meant by Professor Chuckie. Between him and Gladys, the two of them had a tendency of coming up with dozens of ridiculous code names for every single person they ever encountered in life, to the point where you were constantly struggling to keep up with them all.

"Who's Professor Chuckie again?" you eventually asked.

"Chuckie? From Rugrats?" Gladys hinted.

Your frown deepened. "Who?"

"Oh my God, (Y/N)." Akbar sighed. "You know the man. Fluffy curly hair like Chuckie from Rugrats."

After swimming in a pool of confusion for the next few minutes, Gladys eventually took pity on you and blurted out, "It's Professor Reid, (Y/N). Professor Spencer Reid from Criminology department?"

Your stomach dropped to the floor.

How did they—

"A buddy of mine was at the criminology lab today and told me that everyone was talking about it," Akbar explained. "The Spencer Reid is married. It's a huge news."

"Damn right, it is." Gladys scoffed. "Why are all the fine men in my life already taken? I hate it here."

Akbar rolled his eyes. "Right. As if you ever had a chance with him anyway."

As your two friends proceeded to bicker with one another, you felt yourself sinking deeper into a temporal abyss as your brain tried to process what Akbar had just said.

Spencer Reid is married.

Everyone was talking about it.

A lump formed at the base of your throat as you faced Akbar again, "Hey, how did they—how did your friend find out that Professor Reid was married?"

"He showed up to work with a ring this morning."

Your heart was racing inside your chest. "That's it? Not a very conclusive evidence, isn't it? Maybe the man just likes his jewelry."

"Nah, I'd bet my money that he's hitched," Akbar said. "My buddy told me one of the students tried to ask him about it and he just kinda smiled and nodded. Never really answered the question, though."

"That does sound kinda sus," Gladys opined. "Makes me wonder what kind of person managed to bag a specimen like that."

You hummed distractedly in reply, too busy mulling over everything to actively participate in the conversation your friends were having. Your professor strode into the hall barely five minutes later, and before long, the class officially began, forcing you to shake off any irrelevant thoughts about Professor Chuckie and his ring from the deepest corners of your mind.

Today was the day every group in class had to present their last progress report before finals rolled around. As soon as the fifth group finished their presentation, you walked to the front of the class with Akbar and Gladys following closely behind.

Akbar stepped towards the desk, trying to connect his PC with the class projector. He fumbled with the cable for a few minutes before he sheepishly glanced at you and Gladys. "I don't think it's gonna work. Either of you brought a laptop today?"

"I brought mine," you announced. "Wait here."

You ran back towards your table to grab your laptop before connecting the device to the projector. As soon as the desktop of your laptop appeared on the big screen, the entire lecture hall suddenly erupted in a round of synchronized gasps.

Gladys was staring at you, a clear sign of shock on her countenance. "(Y/N)?"

"Dude," Akbar muttered breathlessly. "What the hell?"

You swept your gaze repeatedly between the two of them and the rest of the class, confusion dawning inch by inch with every second that ticked by. "What? What's going on?"

Akbar nudged your shoulder, gesturing you to look behind towards where the projected screen of your laptop was being shown to everyone in the room. Your mouth instantly ran dry when you realized what had the whole lecture hall so stunned for the past few minutes.

It was a picture—the one you had set up last week as the wallpaper of your PC desktop but somehow had managed to completely forget about—of you and Spencer lounging on the living room couch of your shared apartment, holding up your hands to show off the identical bands encircling your ring fingers. Spencer was smiling big towards the camera with a protective arm wrapped around your shoulders while you peeked behind his neck with a portion of your face concealed behind his untamed curls.

It was a sweet photo to commemorate the most important day of both of your lives, taken merely hours after you exchanged vows at the city hall and entrusted each of your own hearts towards the other person to keep, nurture, and love.

And now, that same photo was up on the wall of Room 2404 as an impromptu spectacle for your entire Data Analytics class to see.

From behind the desk, Professor Clegg cleared his throat. "So, (Y/N). You and Dr. Reid, huh?" He peered at you from behind his glasses, not the slightest hint of a smile on his lips, but a brightly twinkling mirth in his eyes. "I guess congratulations are in order."

You exhaled a tired breath and replied, "Thank you, Professor."

Once your presentation was over, you retired back to your seat and discreetly typed in a message as another group came forward to present their work. You threw your phone into your bag after hitting send, trying to ignore the whispered demands of your two friends as they badgered you for answers.

Across the campus, Spencer's phone dinged with an incoming text.

He pulled out the device promptly, failing to contain his smile as he read the message you had just delivered to him.

Thanks a lot for the heads up 👎 Looks like there's no need for me to keep my own ring hidden in the wallet anymore >:(

[natalievoncatte]

Alex rarely calls her. Alex prefers visits, or texts. She does things like send Lena a random TikTok that they can laugh over at three in the morning, or shows up at her office with lunch to catch up- food being a love language is as much a Danvers trait as it is a Kara trait. Sometimes Kelly joins them, sometimes Esme.

When she calls it makes Lena nervous.

“Hello?”

Alex’s voice is tense, hoarse from fatigue, and she’s tired.

“Lena, thank God. Kara’s… okay, first, she’s okay. She’s not physically hurt.”

There’s an almost imperceptible emphasis on physically that makes Lena’s stomach sink.

“Tell me what happened.”

“We were dealing with a villain named Shade. Nothing more than a thief, really, but his gimmick is controlling darkness with this staff he has. We took him down.”

“But,” Lena says.

“He enveloped Kara in shadows and she panicked. She flew home and I’m not sure if anyone else should go in right now.”

Lena feels her stomach twist and the steering wheel creaks beneath her hands. She was already on her way home, but she abruptly cuts into the left lane and pushes in the throttle, glad that she both decided to drive herself to work today, and that she selected the Bugatti from the garage.

“I’ll be there in five.”

She makes it in four.

Lena’s teeth click as the low slung car jolts over the curb; she forgot to hit the switch to raise the front end. She doesn’t much care, as she leaves the driver’s side door hanging open. Taking the side steps two at a time, she rushes through the garage door into the kitchen and blinks.

The house is unbearably bright. Every single curtain is throw open to the afternoon sun and every light is switched on, with every dimmable bulb all the way up. Kara has also lit the fireplace and sits next to a roaring blaze, still in her suit, rocking slightly as she hugs her knees to her chest.

Lena first sheds her blazer and then her heels, approaching Kara with steady, even steps.

“Lena?”

“It’s me, darling.”

“Idon’tknowifImsafe,” Kara blurts out, the jumble of words tumbling from her lips.

“Hug your arms around yourself like we practiced.”

She does, wrapping her arms tightly around her body, alleviating the fear that she’ll hurt Lena with an errant movement. Lena sits slowly, curling around Kara from behind as she guides the other woman’s head to her shoulder.

“It was just like being back there,” Kara whimpers, her jaw shaking with every word.

Lena lets Kara feel her nodding and slips her fingers into Kara’s hair, gently working out the tangles she finds. She can tell that Kara has been in a fight; she smells like sweat and oil and soot.

“You’re not there anymore and you never have to go back.”

“What if this has all been a dream. What if I open my eyes and you’re not there anymore.”

“I’ll be here when you open your eyes, my love. Come on, I’m right here.”

“I can’t.”

“Okay,” Lena says, “tell me five things you can feel.”

“My cape. The floor. The heat from the fire. My boots. You.”

“That’s right. Now, five things you can hear.”

“The fire burning. The electrical hum from the lights. The wind in the trees outside. The mantle clock in your office. Your heartbeat.”

“Okay, now, five things you can see.”

Kara’s entire body shakes as she forces her eyes open. When her gaze meets Lena’s, she melts into Lena’s arms.

“Our house. The rug. The fireplace. My painting of Argo City…” and then, breathless, “you.”

Lena cannot help but marvel as they shift their bodies and Kara is suddenly in her lap. Lena cannot help but marvel and the mind-boggling reality of this moment. Kara has been worshipped as a god; she has performed miracles, shattered mountains, can melt steel with a look. Yet here, now, she feels as small and fragile as a baby bird cupped in Lena’s palm.

Kara is not so delicate, though. Her arms still wrapped about herself for safety, she lets Lena squeeze her as hard as she can, until Lena trembles with effort, making sure she can feel.

Kara’s breathing slows. Her body relaxes, and Lena feels secure enough to fetch her phone and call Alex to let her know that Kara is alright, and then order an absolutely absurd number of pizzas and other junk food from their favorite new place.

After Kara has showered and been fed, she goes right back to where she need to be, pillowed on Lena’s chest. They don’t speak; Lena simply understands that tonight she will sleep with the lights on, and strokes her fingers gently through Kara’s hair until her face goes slack and the fear and worry leaves her features as she falls asleep. Kara is even more angelic like this, one arm thrown over Lena’s waist, head turned into her, breathing softly.

Lena doesn’t sleep a wink, but that’s okay, because Kara does, and by the time Kara wakes up, Lena is more than happy to spend the day in bed.

Playing with their hair until they fall asleep.

[sturniololoco]

could you maybe do like a little sister fic where they find out she hasn’t been eating lately and they try to get her to eat and they are just there for her. Maybe give like some backstory on like why she won’t eat like maybe a guy told her to lose weight or somthing?

Not Hungry

Surniolo Little sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets

Warnings: Eating disorder, throwing up, etc.

SLS's POV

"I might date you when you learn to eat a salad every once in a while."

That why I stopped eating. I decided that if just stopped eating, I'd lose weight faster, and I'd never get my heart broken like that again.

The only hard part is going to be keeping it from my brothers.

-

It's already been about a week and a half, and I've been very successful. My ribs were starting to poke out, and my brothers had no clue.

Keeping myself busy, as to not think about the rumbling in my stomach, I've been cleaning my room, scrubbing my windows, doing laundry, and wiping down my bathroom.

"SLS/N! Its time for dinner, come down here please!" I hear Nick yell from the base of the stairs.

Shit

My least favorite part of the day: Dinner. The time when I have to pretend to enjoy my food for 30 minutes, only to go and make myself puke it up after.

I can usually get away with not eating breakfast by rushing out the door to get to school, and then throwing out my toast once I get inside. Lunch I didn't even have to try, I just don't buy food or eat at all.

But dinner was always hard, and I was nervous.

-

Nick ordered Canes for dinner tonight, my favorite. Or what used to be. I sat down, fiddling with my fork while Chris passed out the food and drinks.

While my brothers were busy handing out food, I quickly took my cup of Pepsi to the sink and dumped it out, leaving the ice, and filling it up again with water.

I casually sit back down and start sipping at my water, when Chris says,

"For you, m'lady!" whilst bowing and presenting my chicken fingers as if they were the kingdom's finest gold.

I chuckle nervously before taking my food. My shaking hands were fumbling with the box.

"Here, I gotch you," Matt says, leaning over and opening my box, and pushing it back in front of me.

"Thanks," I say, breathlessly, before picking one up and examining the piece if chicken.

"You okay kiddo? Normally you'd be halfway done with your plate already!" Nick says, earning a chuckle from Matt and Chris.

But the comment made me sick to my stomach.

I let out a fake laugh, saying,

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good! I ate a late lunch at school." What a lie. I take a bite of the chicken and immediately feel a title wave of nausea take over me. I quickly swallow the chicken and join in on my brother's small talk, so as not to raise suspicion.

-

I barely managed to get two chicken fingers down, telling my brothers I would just eat them for lunch tomorrow.

I help Nick with the dishes, then tell my brothers I'm about to shower, then disappear into my room.

Once in there, I head straight to the bathroom, grab my toothbrush, and kneel down by the toilet.

after stuffing my toothbrush halfway down my throat, I gag and let out the majority of the chicken from my stomach, into the toilet.

I do this two more times just to be safe, but on the last time, the bathroom door swings open.

Nick's POV

I finish cleaning the house shortly after SLS/N goes upstairs to shower. But to my surprise, I saw she left her phone on the kitchen table.

I run upstairs, planning to leave it on her bed for her. But once I arrive in her room, I hear gagging and choking coming from her bathroom.

I knew something was off with her at dinner. I think to myself, quickly running downstairs to tell Matt and Chris, to grab a washcloth and a bucket.

My brothers follow me up on my way back to SLS/N's room after hearing about her being sick. They want to help her feel better just as much as I do. But when we open her bathroom door, we are shocked at what we find.

We see SLS/N sitting on the floor, making herself sick.

SLS/N's POV

Nick, Matt, and Chris stand in the entrance of my bathroom, staring, while I am still sitting on the floor, covered in a cold sweat, lose tears running down my face.

Nick rushes over to me, bending down and wiping my face with a washcloth, saying,

"Why are you doing that? Are you okay?" He looks into my eyes worried, as I tiredly fall back into his embrace, not wanting to hide anymore.

I begin to cry as he scoops me up and lays me on my bed, with Chris and Matt right behind him. I lean on Chris as he sits to my right, and Nick rubs my leg comfortingly as he sits to my left. Matt kneels down in front of me, saying,

"What's going on sweetheart? Talk to me." He rubs his thumbs back and forth soothingly across the top of my hands.

"I don't eat anymore, I'm already fat so theirs no use in me eating anymore anyways," I tell them. They look at me shocked.

"Who told you that?" Chris questions, still looking at me.

"Some kid at school, he's right though," I reply, still letting my tears fall down my red face.

"SLS/N, that is the stupidest thing in the world for you to say! You are so beautiful, just the way you are. You shouldn't let some jerk at school tell you otherwise. Do you understand?" I nod, still not knowing how he can say all these things, but makes me feel better all the same.

"How long has this been going on sweetheart?" Matt asks me, still holding onto my hands. I breathe in a shaky breath, and answer,

"About two weeks I think..." I see the disappointment on all their faces as I let the words out of my mouth.

"well, this won't be happening again. I don't think you understand, we can't lose you. We love you so, so much and we can't live without you, okay?" Nick tells me sternly. I nod and snuggle into my brothers.

"We'll try again tomorrow, okay?" Chris says to me, kissing me on the head. I nod again, my eyes getting sleepy. Chris helps me lay down, and my brothers tuck me in and head to the door to turn off my light and exit.

"Wait. Stay? Please?" My brothers walk back over, all squeezing together in the little bed.

"We're not going anywhere." I hear Matt says, before kissing my forehead, and I drift off to sleep.

-

I wake up in the morning to the smell of pancakes and bacon. But then last night evens came flooding back, and I got scared.

Matt, the only brother still lying with me, felt my tension grabbed my hand, and gave it a reassuring squeeze, saying,

"Hey, your gonna be fine! You got this." I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. We keep holding hands as we walk down to the kitchen.

"There's my girl!" Chris says, wrapping his arms around me as I enter the kitchen. I gladly accept the hug, and then another one from Nick.

Chris, Mat, and I sit on the couch, watching TV, when Nick calls from the kitchen,

"No rush, but breakfast is ready!"

Chris grabs my hand and leads me to my seat at the table, pushing in my chair. Nick then places a plate in front of me with one singular pancake. I look up at my brothers nervously.

"I don't-" I begin to say, but Matt cuts me off.

"Just eat what you can, you are in no rush at all, okay? You got this baby." I pick up my fork and take a small bite.

Nick made extra good pancakes today.

I'm able to finish about half of the pancake before I get full. My brothers must have noticed.

"Good job SLS/N, I'm so proud of you!" Chris says, leaning over to give me a high five. I smack his hand and smile, happy that my brothers are here to get me through this.

Sorry, this took SO long!

[petit-etoile]

Congrats on 200 followers!!!

I've got a drabble idea

Tav has foiled Ethels plans one too many times So it's only fair she return the favor.

She seems to love giving out apples, it would be a shame if poor Tav we're to eat one unknowingly 🍎

the  folly of  a human heart

pairing: astarion/tav wordcount: 945 content warnings: none other tags: canon compliant, introspection, character study, hurt/comfort, whump,  gender neutral tav, human!tav archiveofourown: here.

tag list: @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils, be added to the taglist here

summary: 'I was going to offer Auntie Ethel her freedom,' you say, 'in exchange for a wish.'

‘I wanted a cure  —  ’

‘You wanted immortality.’

‘I wanted to save  —  ’

‘You wanted forever,’ Auntie Ethel says condescendingly. ‘I’ve given it to you, sweetums. Don’t you like it?’

You don’t like it. Your stomach is cramping so hard you can hardly stand, and every time you try to take a step, nothingness crunches at the base of your skull. Your vision has gone from blurry to nonexistent. You try to follow her cackle. You try to follow her anything, but all you can hear is keening from a wounded animal. You claw at your stomach and stumble forward.

How utterly stupid you’ve been.

Had you asked any of your companions, they would have told you that trusting Auntie Ethel after everything you’ve done to her was insanity. It’s your own fault. You have no one else to blame for how miserable you feel. But she had dangled a carrot in front of you, a wish and a promise, and you had wanted so desperately to reach out your hand and take it to let bygones be bygones. You had been hopeful, stupid, naïve to trust Ethel.

Your knees give out beneath you and you collapse on the floor of the Blushing Mermaid. Ethel regards you coolly even as her features shift back into Captain Grisly’s. She leaves you with nothing. When you wake next, you expect nothing but excruciating pain.

You expect your lungs to be pulled from your chest. You expect insanity, and yet there is nothing but Shadowheart’s frigid hands against your cheeks dragging you back to reality. She healed you. You gaze at her blearily, but she can’t even open her mouth to scold you before Astarion is shoving her out of the way.

‘You,’ he snaps, ‘get out.’’

Shadowheart won’t take it to heart, you hope, but she does scurry out of the inn room before anything else can be said. Your vision is still rough around the edges, but you can see Astarion as clear as day. The sight of him makes you smile stupidly, and even though he’s practically snarling, baring his teeth and grasping your blankets with his hands, you’re not afraid of him. But after remembering how Auntie Ethel betrayed you, your heart sinks into your stomach faster than you can stop it and you sob uncontrollably, pushing the palms of your hands against your eyes roughly.

‘What is wrong?’ he asks, suddenly frantic. He wraps his hands around your wrists. ‘Are you still hurt? Shadowhea  —  ’

‘  —  nothing, nothing,’ you weep. Your head feels too full and your stomach hurts.

‘If that wretched hag still has a hold on you,’ Astarion says fiercely, ‘I’ll rip her throat out with my teeth.’

‘No,’ you say. ‘I don’t think  —  I don’t think that’s it anymore.’

Astarion takes a little time to contemplate what you mean by that, but you like the way he dotes on you rather than the way he scolds you for your mistakes. You stare at him miserably. He frowns back.

‘What were you thinking?’ he asks, looking terribly sad and wrecked. ‘Why did you go alone?’

‘I was going to offer Auntie Ethel her freedom,’ you say, avoiding his eyes so you don’t have to see the curiosity in them, ‘in exchange for a wish. I was going to give her a tadpole disguised as the one from the Emperor in exchange for…a wish scroll.’

Astarion raises his chin as he attempts to process the information. Confusion, pride and then terror flickers across his face as he digests what you said, and then he’s reaching for your hands and holding onto them tightly.

‘But she didn’t want to help me,’ you say. ‘She really, really hates us, Astarion.’

‘What could you have possibly wanted a wish scroll for?’ he asks.

You aren’t sure if he’s serious or if he’s being obtuse on purpose. You peer at him cautiously, watching him as he watches you shuffle up the headboard so you’re sitting up more than you are resting. You have a raging headache and your stomach hasn’t stopped rolling since you woke up, but that won’t stop your endless altruism from puzzling Astarion or you from trying to comfort him.

‘For you,’ you say shyly.

‘Me?’ Astarion scoffs.

‘I was going to wish it away,’ you say. ‘Your vampirism. You’re so beautiful in the sunlight, I wanted to see it  —  ’

You aren’t able to finish your sentence before Astarion is toppling over you. He burrows his face in your hair and cradles the back of your neck to help with the strain. He kisses your forehead next and studies the way your hands shake in your lap.

‘You’re silly, I don’t think you even realize it,’ Astarion says softly. He reaches for your hands and smooths his thumbs over your knucklebones. ‘You’re so fragile, so human and yet…you inelegantly strike at gods and mystical things without fear. I could learn so much from your bravery.’

Astarion does not laugh at you. He does not applaud you for your attempt at deception. He doesn’t even mildly ridicule you for what a ridiculous plan it was. He sits with you until your stomach hurts less and you feel hungrier, and when it’s time for you to eat, Astarion carefully feeds you spoonfuls of Gale’s soup.

‘If I could make a wish,’ he says when you’re warm and cozy, basking in the attention as he smooths your hair away from your face, ‘I’d wish for you to be alive forever. Being a vampire spawn wouldn’t be so bad if I could have a thousand and one days with you.’

You don’t tell him it’s what you dream about.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Forget-Me-Not 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Loki

Summary: You return to your childhood home to put the past to rest.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You toss another can in the bin. The kitchen is littered with your mother’s addiction. Vodka bottles line the counter and beer cans sit in piles on the tile. In some, you find the putrid remnants of forgotten mouthfuls. You rinse them over the sink and fling them over your shoulder, listening to them land in the tall container.

The house rankles with neglect. The walls are layered in filth, the floor is unswept, and the couch is dingy. You shake your head and mutter. 

You’re reminded of the teen girl who trod through her mother’s mess every day on her way to the front door, her room her fortress; the only space she could claim as her own. That sacred stronghold she kept spotless in a measly grasp for an ounce of control. 

You drop another can in the sink and back away. You shake the stale dregs from your fingers and flee without a second thought. You stumble out onto the shady porch and gulp in air. Fresh, fertile, and free.

You sit on the highest step and hang your head. Your eyes flick over to the basket of flowers. Your foot twitches, wanting to kick it into the dirt. You sigh and tilt your chin up.

You’re sad but not for your mother. You know you should be. No one else will mourn her. They’ll all whisper about how she wallowed in her filth, how she died lonely and abandoned. But they won’t care. They won’t grieve her.

Neither will you. What they don’t say behind their hands is that she was rotten with the liquor. Bitter to the core. The bottle was her shield and her weapon. Her excuse to be what she was. Vile and venomous.

You don’t miss her, you pity her. You stand and face the house, your eyes tinge as you glare at the screen door. Splinters fill the dents in the frame and rust recedes from the hinges. The birds chirp louder and louder and all at once, the world is quiet.

Paralysed, you watch yourself run up the stairs and stop before the door. Twenty years younger but just as broken. Your shadow listens with her ear tilted. A man’s voice rumbles from inside and your mother croaks in return.

“She’ll be home soon,” she says before she sucks on the neck of the bottle, a loud glug bubbling from its depths. “Plain but quiet.”

Your lip trembles and you falter as if you’ve been struck. The teen girl turns to face you, she’s about to run but the door opens and she’s caught. 

“There you are,” your mother’s voice chafes in her throat, “we got company–”

You lunge forward to grab the girl before she’s dragged inside. It’s too late. Your knee hits the step and you shudder. How cruel were those village gossips, to warble about the girl but they never said a cross word about their own husbands.

Your stomach fills with bile as you push yourself to your feet. You won’t go inside. Not this time. You turn away and heave, swiping the tears from your eyes. You swear you can hear the girl screaming and sobbing as you walk away. Just like all the others who ignored her.

Your feet carry you without a destination. Water trickles noisily and lures you in. You sit on the overturned tree and watch the ripples lap over pointed rocks. 

You should burn the place down. A pile of ash is worth more than those stained walls. You look down at your hands and shake them out, as if you can shed the memories like snake skin.

Only one person heard that girl. Just the one but he turned out just the same. It was never empathy, only a trick.

Forget him. Forget all of it. You sat in that room, across from that doctor, and you did just that. You’re not going to let it back in.

A twig snaps and you sit straight, breath hitching as you search the shadows between the trees. The sunlight flickers through the leaves and the water reflects the world in warped lines. You stand and go to the river’s edge, looking down at yourself. Not a girl anymore, just a tarnished woman.

“Somehow,” the slither jars you but doesn’t surprise you, “I knew I’d find you here.”

You don’t answer him. You know that’s what he wants. For you to shake, to shriek, to do what you did then. To grovel for him to stop, to go away. Just there, on the riverbed, pebbles jabbing into your stomach, your face soaked with the cold water.

“Offer still stands.”

“I don’t want your money,” you say to his rippled reflection.

“Mm, but we both know you need it.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” you sneer, “you never did.”

He snorts, “I know a lot about you. I know how you feel, I know how you whine and beg and–”

“Are you so pathetic? You cling to the past like some desperate old man. This isn’t high school–”

“No, it isn’t,” he agrees, “yet here we are and hardly a thing has changed,” Loki struts along the river to its narrowest breadth and steps across, “you are still nothing, and I am still me.”

“A big fish in a tiny, dried up pond,” you spit as you sidle away from him.

“I am the same shark–”

You bend and grab a sharp rock. It’s big and thick and just holding it cuts into your hand. You spin and whip it in his direction. It just misses his shoulder as he sidesteps, plunging a foot into the riverbed. He snarls and kicks his shoe up, shaking it like a wet cat.

“Why would you do that?” He hisses.

“I’ll do it again,” you bend to take another stone, “I will bash your fucking face in.”

“Whooo,” he whistles and snickers as he crosses his arms nonchalantly, “she’s found her voice.”

“Fuck you,” you grip the stone and rear back your arm, “I won’t miss again.”

He tilts his head and his nostrils flare. His snakish eyes narrow and he clucks, “neither will I.”

You stand, locked in stalemate, waiting for the other to crack. He drops his arms, hands on his hips as he raises his chin defiantly.

“I waited twenty years,” he snarls, “what’s a little longer?”

He twists on his heel and hops over the river. You squeeze the rock as you watch him stride away. Arrogant and assured. You fling the rock and it bounces on the ground after his heels. He doesn’t look back as he disappears into the forest.

The beast might hide to lick his wounds, but he always comes back.

[rae-pottah]

"Meanie" "Brat"

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Dom!Spencer Reid x Brat!Reader

Warnings: references to sex, She/her pronouns, established relationship, shitty writing lol

Summary: Being a brat wont help your case.

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

*Y/n's POV*

As soon as I woke up I could feel the cramps in my stomach and the bruises forming on my body, but no matter how I felt I knew I had to get to work, or Hotch wouldn't be happy. But getting up is a problem... as soon as I try to put my feet on the floor, I get pulled back to Spencer's side and hear him groan

"Spence we have work, its time to get up baby"

"mm you know I love it when you call me that" he pulled me closer by my waist, he touched his lips to mine so softly I felt like I was floating above the clouds, I smacked his chest

"We" I smacked his chest again "have" again "work" finally I was let go and we were getting ready

****

We were just getting out the door when he handed me a bottle

"Here's your water, don't forget it's marked for every hour"

"Spencer I haven't even had coffee yet, there is no way I'm drinking water" he gave me a glare and stepped in front of the elevator doors "Fine here you go, I'm drinking it" I took a large sip of the water hoping it would keep him happy for a while "Happy?"

"Very. Good girl." he got in the elevator, I was caught for a moment blushing at his words, just as the elevator doors were about to close "you coming?" he asked with a stupid smirk

----

At work

We had been there for a couple hours, a paperwork day... fun.

"Hey Spence I got that file you needed" I put it on his desk and accidentally knocked off a pen "oops sorry Hun" I bent over to pick it up, but when I was coming up I hit my head on something, it didn't hurt, but it wasn't a pillow, come to find out when I stood up Spencer had put his hand on his desk to act as a bumper, if he hadn't it would've hurt. I just smile gently at him, when I go to turn back to my desk to work more he asks

"is your bottle empty?"

"yes, I just haven't had the time to refill it yet I will once I'm done with this file"

"mm no" he says as he stands and grabs the water bottle from my desk

"Baby, no I said I'll refill it" he goes to the sink in the kitchenette, and brings it back completely full, with a shy smile I thank him and return to my desk

-- 2 and a half hours later--

Grabbing the warm cup in my hands, I bring my coffee back to my desk

"your bottle is still completely full, which is weird because if my memory serves me correctly, I filled this 2 hours 36 minutes and 45 seconds ago." I see Spencer holding my bottle looking at it while sitting in my chair. With wide eyes I immediately turn around finding all of our team looking at our interaction with smirks, even Hotch that sick son of a - "And do I smell coffee?"

"It's Morgan's" I blurt out

"You said that like you reeeaalllllyyyy believed it babe" he turned me around "mm smells good" he peeled it from my hands "mm just like my order, what a coincidence." he looked me deadpan straight in my eyes "drink your water"

"Meanie!" I stuck my tongue out at him, he grabbed my tongue and yanked on it for a split second then let go

"Brat."

@marylovesevanpeters

[minorvamp]

Bullet with Butterfly Wings

Astarion x f!Tav, Explicit

Ascended Astarion, Vampire sex, blood, Vampire bites, AFAB tiefling Tav

"On your knees darling."

But this, this is something entirely new. There's something glinting, sharp and dangerous out of his eyes now. Something deep and dark, pulled up from the recesses of his soul by the ritual. Something not Astarion.

Reposting this from a few weeks ago, because Tumblr decided to not show it on any of the tag feeds.

Title is from the Smashing Pumpkins song of the same name, because I can't hear it without thinking of Astarion

Available on AO3 or under the cut

"On your knees, darling."

The first thing Aranrei feels after sinking to the floor is the press of his cold fingers against her shoulders. The gentle bite of his claws pricking the skin around her collar bones as he leans in behind her. It's a firm touch, possessive even, but not threatening. Not yet.

She shivers as he traces one of those claws up her neck, pulling up a pink welt across her skin that he soothes quickly with his tongue.

"There." She feels his lips pull into that dangerous smile against her skin. "You know how I adore those little shakes of excitement whenever you feel my mouth near that delectable neck of yours. You'll be my undoing, my love."

He presses a trail of kisses up her neck, and she feels her pulse quicken as his lips follow along the artery there, his tongue pressing over his favourite spot where the thrum is strongest. She feels her heart fluttering wildly against the cage of her ribs, nerves, anticipation, fear, as he sets his fangs against her skin. Astarion nips softly, drawing a few pinpricks of blood to dance sweet copper over his tongue. He's delighted by the power he holds over her even with such a delicate touch. The thrill of it washes over him and settles as deep thrum in his groin, pulsing in time with every frantic beat of her heart. He moves his mouth up to tease his tongue over her ear.

"Patience, my sweet. We have an eternity to explore a cornucopia of carnal delights. I have plans for centuries of ecstacy, lost in each other. There's no need to rush so quickly to the main event." The honeyed words, the sultry tone are all so familiar, but as he turns her face towards his, she sees something in his eyes that gives her pause. She's seen them lost, vacant as they were during their first night together. She's seen the melancholy that lingers in them far too often, the fear that sometimes even his most practiced of charming veneers won't hide. She's watched them fill with joy, the lines around them creasing deeply as he laughs at Shadowheart and Lae'zel, their blades at each other's throats. And she's seen them full of white hot rage, the red of his irises burning as he recounted some of the fouler things Cazador had done to him. Or worse, forced him to do to others.

But this, this is something entirely new. There's something glinting, sharp and dangerous out of them now. Something deep and dark, pulled up from the recesses of his soul by the ritual. Something not Astarion.

"You always flush so beautifully for me my darling." He says as he admires the pretty pink blush smudged across her cheeks, the hue lustred by the pale lavender of her skin. He moves to kiss her, and she allows the press of his mouth against hers to push away the doubt that has started gnawing in the pit of stomach. They had made the right decision, he was finally free. Free of Cazador, free of fear, free to live for himself for the first time in 200 years. She had done the right thing.

Aranrei feels the moan rumble through his chest as she takes his bottom lip between her teeth and bites down the way he likes it. Just on the edge of too painful. Responds with her own when he slides that silver tongue against hers, pushing into her mouth to claim every inch of it. His hands smooth over her shoulders before pressing against them, encouraging her to spin around and bare herself to him. He pulls away from the kiss and drinks in the sight of her before him. Her lips and neck bruised a dark purple from his attentions, face and breasts flushed with arousal. "I can taste it, you know. In the air, on your skin, in your blood. I can taste how much you want this. How much you need me."

He pushes her down against the hard wooden boards, but she manages to catch herself on her elbows before her head smacks against the floor. She feels another pang of fear race through her heart as she stares up into his beautiful face. The soft halo of white curls catching in the dim light of the room. The face of the man she loves more than anything else in the realms. A face that could charm all the gods above and below. All hers, but now turned stranger. That dagger smile of his now a smirk cut across it like a gash. The cold steel in his eyes that she doesn't recognise.

She's prey, she realises. That gnawing doubt in her stomach now a lump of cold hard rock. He pushes her legs apart with a foot, taking in the whole of her, before sinking to his knees between her thighs. There's a feline quality to his movements as he slinks up her body, hands coming to a stop either side of her head as he fixes her with that predatory gaze once again. "Astarion, I'm not-"

"You are perfect." He leans down to capture her lips in another kiss, cutting her off before she can bring voice to the feeling. She relaxes into the kiss, allowing the slow grind of his body against hers to reignite the fire inside. Even through his trousers, the insistent press of his hard cock against her soft core leaves her aching for him, and he feels the wetness of her soaking through his clothes. She finds herself helpless to the waves of arousal his well practiced movements pull from her, soothing away her doubts with the stroke of his tongue against hers.

Keeping himself braced above her, his other hand moves to massage her breasts and she breaks the kiss with a gasp. Her pupils are blown as he gently rakes his newly clawed hand down her side, sending yet another shudder of arousal to race through her. He sits up on his knees, hand now stroking its way down his own chest over sculpted muscles before coming to rest over the closure of his britches. He moans decadently as he squeezes his hand over his erection, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he relieves some of the ache of his arousal. It's performance, any good bard would be able to tell, but it sits somewhere on that fuzzy line of exaggerated truth. And it's for her, Aranrei tells herself. They did the right thing.

With a few motions of his deft fingers, he opens his trousers and pulls his cock free from their confines. Gives her another deep moan of pleasure as he pulls his hand over the shaft, twisting slightly as moisture beads at the head. He grins, wicked, at her reaction to him. Leans down over her again and uses his hand to guide his cock to stroke through her wet folds, head rubbing over her swollen clit. Tuts at her when she tries to move her hips to press him into where the ache of her arousal is deepest. "Patience, my love. You've waited so long already, what's a minute more to savour the moment, hmm?"

She suppresses the sudden urge to cover herself, feeling trapped and exposed by the ravenous stare he gives her as he takes in the state of her. Her chest still flushed and now heaving as the anticipation of him starts to overwhelm her. Her hands are desperate for something to dig her claws into, her tail winding around his clothed thigh trying to pull him to her. She's missed him, missed this, so much. Dreamt of this moment a thousand times, where he would trust her and himself enough to share this with her again. And yet the nagging feeling that something isn't quite right resurfaces. Persists through his pretty words, and his touch even as he hitches her thigh against his hip and enters her in one smooth, strong thrust.

She moans his name, long and loud, relieved to finally have him inside of her again, the glorious stretch as he fills her. He responds in kind as the feeling of hot, tight, wet, mine surrounds him. He stills for a moment, enjoying the sensations of her walls fluttering around him, inviting him to thrust deep and hard. To not stop until she's stuffed full of his cock and his cum, his fangs buried in her neck, his name on lips, her blood in his mouth, until she's so full of him that there's no room for her anymore. Until she's mine, all mine, only mine.

He traces a hand down her chest and stomach, feeling the shape of every ridge as he moves it down to her core. She draws in a sharp gasp as his thumb finds her swollen clit, draws the wetness around in small circles across it that have her muscles squeezing vice like around his throbbing cock. "My perfect, pretty consort." He offers her another dangerous smile as he pulls halfway out of her, enjoying the delicious friction as he drags himself out, "I do so love to hear you sing out my name, little bird. Do it again." He thrusts back in, slow and deep, wants to hear her whimper for him.

"Fuck, Astarion. You feel so - I-" she can't help the strangled moan that escapes her as he continues his languorous strokes inside of her. He watches, enraptured by the sight of his cock filling her, watches her as she squirms and whimpers, already so sensitive for him. How could he have been so weak before, to not take this, what was his to own and to treasure. He resists the urge to rut into her, hard and fast, to cum and to take her. He relaxes his jaw to try and relieve some of the ache in his fangs, he won't feel complete until he's claimed her as his. Instead he continues his slow rhythm, pausing to grind deep every time his hips meet hers. A gasp of pleasure falling from his own lips as his sensitive head rubs against the spongy bundle of nerves inside her.

Her lilac skin glows with a sheen of sweat as she rolls her hips to meet his thrusts, twisting slightly to feel every inch of him sliding into her. Their deliberate pace draws out the pleasure, winding them both higher and higher with ecstasy and holding them there, not yet ready to crest and fall. She closes her eyes against the mounting wave he's bringing her to, little gasps and hiccups of pleasure escaping uninhibited every time he grinds against her g-spot. The delicious curve of his cock that fits so perfectly inside her. Like they were both made for this.

She opens her eyes to watch his face, the pleasure dancing across its planes unable to hide the desperate hunger shining in his eyes. She reaches for him, and he allows her to pull him down, burying his face against her neck as his hips finally pick up speed. She traces her fingers down the scars on his back, digs in her claws as her nerve endings start to sing out their joy. Muscles in her lower body growing tense, her thighs gripping his hips and her walls pulling tight as he fills her over and over.

He pants his pleasure into her neck as she clenches hard around his swollen cock, feels her pulse racing under his tongue as the hot, wet pull of her body drives him higher still. "Ah- Ast- I'm cu- Ah!" She chokes over her moans, unable to get the words out. Every thrust of his perfect cock winding the pleasure tighter and tighter in her center, until it's too much to bear. He growls as he bares his fangs, allowing his instinct to take over, and he sinks them into the soft skin of her neck.

Aranrei screams out as he bites her. The sharp pain in her neck is nothing compared to the white hot waves of pleasure now crashing through her body. Her muscles spasm around his cock as her orgasm washes over her, it radiates out from her core sending tingles through to her fingers and she surrenders herself completely to the incredible pleasure he's brought her to. Her world narrows down to the feel of him inside of her, his hips still working relentlessly, his skin under her hands, hair brushing her ears, his mouth at her neck. Every deep suck at her throat sending another wave to wash over her, pulling her deeper and deeper into him, until she's delirious with it.

The rush of her blood into his mouth as she cums is exquisite. He can taste the sweetness of her orgasm as it pours over his tongue, the tingle of magic in her blood better than any nectar of the gods. His hips are frantic now, pumping rapidly to work her through the last of her orgasm as he chases his own. He drives himself into her desperately as she gushes wetness and contracts around him, her blood singing through his body as he drinks. His cock sensitive, swollen, harder than he's ever been and every nerve ending is aflame with pleasure. He rides the delicious agony of almost there, floating higher and higher, desperate to live in this moment with her forever. His moan is a broken sob against her neck as his balls draw up tight against his body before his pleasure finally crests, he thrusts deep and hard one last time before he erupts inside of her.

His vision goes white and there's a roar in his ears as his cock jerks over and over again, painting her walls with ropes of his hot cum. It ripples endlessly through his body as he drinks from her and she trembles through her aftershocks, clenching her muscles sporadically around his over sensitive cock. She is divine in her pleasure, his beautiful saviour and dark consort, and she belongs to him.

And still he drinks. Sucking hard at the puncture wounds on her neck to draw more of her blood down his throat. She starts to lose herself to it, her mind already hazy with pleasure; she feels everything start to wash away with the ebb and flow of her blood as it leaves her body. Her doubts, her worries, her pain, her joy, everything lost to the feel of Astarion at her neck. She relaxes completely, there's no strength left in her muscles to keep her thighs held around his hip, and her arms slide off of his back as darkness starts to cloud her vision. She's left with only one tiny spark of fear, one last thought before her consciousness slips away and everything goes black.

We did the right thing.

He feels as she goes limp underneath him. Thinks he can taste the last drops of life spilling over his tongue before he finally pulls away from her neck to admire his work, cock slipping out of her. She's beautiful. The sheen of sweat still lingering on her pale skin gives her an ethereal glow, the flush of her arousal still present despite her bloodless state. It's a stark contrast to the bloody red mess of her throat, the vulgarity of his seed dripping out of her onto the floor below, the dark bruise of his fingers across her thighs. He's enraptured by the ruin he's brought to her, such a pretty thing to be marred by such violence, and he burns it into his memory.

He shifts up onto his knees and raising his hands he drags a sharp claw across his wrist, satisfied as blood blooms to the surface. He turns her face towards him and gently opens her mouth before holding his bloody wrist over it. He allows one singular drop of his blood to fall into it, dropping onto her tongue and sealing her fate.

He strokes his thumb over her cold cheek, and smiles at her as he waits for the changes to start.

"Oh my love, we're going to have so much fun."

[softspeirs]

A/N: John Egan/OC. Listen, I simply couldn’t resist. I know OC’s are abounding right now, but I’ve had this in my head for a few days and needed to get it out. For now she shall remain nameless, but we’ll see if I want to flesh this out. Fair warning: this is real angsty. Sorry, I was in a mood! Somewhere around ep 4-5? No spoilers.

one - (quiet skies, don't get attached)

“Has he reached his limit yet?” A slim hand reaches in front of her, grabbing a pint off the bartop.

She meets Major Cleven’s eyes briefly before he tilts his head in Major Egan’s direction, indicating who he's asking about. As if he'd be worried about anyone else this much.

“Two more with his name on it,” she says, biting back her smile.

“Don’t see how that’s possible.” He mutters, rolling his eyes as Bucky’s loud voice carries over from where he sits, regaling fellow pilots and locals alike with stories from his latest mission.

She shrugs, settling a rag over her shoulder. “I’m not a babysitter. I just make the drinks.”

He nods, waving his hand. “I know. Thank you.”

She sees the worry and frustration that he's not voicing. "No thanks necessary." She says quietly. She watches him go and join his friends, and frowns as she watches Egan stumble over a chair, Cleven barely managing to grab his elbow before he goes toppling to the floor.

It's getting worse. But-- she can't even blame him. She hears bits and pieces, the guys regaling each other with their war stories, but lately it's been quieter, less storytelling and more drowning regrets and sorrows over lukewarm beer.

Major Egan has been in town longer than all of them, and she wonders if anyone else is picking up on the hints he's been dropping every time he speaks to anyone.

I don't even feel anything.

It's not until days later when she hears that he's on leave that she finally releases a breath she's been holding.

The pub is quiet that day. No roaring of planes overhead, no rowdy airmen taking up all her tables and running her ragged with requests. No laughter, but no fighting either.

Her father comes in later, solemn expression, and slaps a newspaper down on the bar. She feels her stomach sinking as she reads. "They lost so many." She whispers.

"Gave the Germans a whipping, though."

It's not enough.

It's late that night when Major Egan shows up. She's not even really surprised to see him, all things considering. She is surprised to see him here - she would have thought he'd have gone MIA with a ship and gone to avenge his friends on his own.

He sits at the bar and flashes her a smile. She's already shaking her head before he can even open his mouth.

"Major... it's not a good idea."

He looks affronted. "What isn't? Just here for a drink, that's all. Haven't you heard? I'm still on leave."

"If you were on leave you'd still be in London."

There's a quick moment where he sets his jaw, sighing. He's frustrated, and she knows he has a quick temper. She just hopes that he hears her out.

"You can't drown your sorrows." She slides the newspaper into view. "Not right now."

He meets her eyes again. There's a moment of clarity that passes between them - she knows exactly why he's back early, and he knows she understands what the stakes are.

"You shouldn't get attached." He says, rising from his seat. Halfway to the door, he looks over his shoulder. "To any of us." His smirk is small, bitter. "Here today, gone tomorrow."

"Major Egan--"

The door is swinging shut behind him before she can tell him it's no use; she already is attached. And she feels it each time a crew comes through the doors and they're one man short. She feels it even though she never learns half their names.

It never gets easier, for the men who do the flying, or for the people who wait for them to come back.

[lavenderbradshaw]

Two Paper Airplanes

You and Bob have never had a hiccup. He was always the same-old Bob, kind and loving and gentle. You think that's all going to change after the birdstrike, after you tell him some news.

Remember when you hit the brakes too soon?

“Eject, eject, eject!” 

The sound of Phoenix and Bob’s voices over the radio make you want to hurl. Literally. You feel your stomach twist so quickly you barely know what’s happening until Rooster has a hand on your shoulder. You don’t say anything, the placement of your hand on your abdomen must be enough for him to deduce what’s happening. He calls for Hangman to bring him a trash can, and you almost ask how he can tell, how he just knows you’re going to throw up. You can’t, though, because in a blinding sequence of events, you end up on the floor. Jake’s holding your feet against his stomach, still standing to try and get blood flow back to your head. Rooster is fanning you, almost hilariously, with a chunk of papers. You lick your lips, which are too numb to feel, and Halo sighs. 

“You scared the shit out of us,” she gasps out, her hand clutched in yours. “You okay, Dreamer?”

You close your eyes for just a second , opening them again to see Maverick crouched next to you now. You flinch, the memory of him being up in the air with Bob and Phoenix when they- 

“Bobby?” You whisper, quiet as a mouse. He nods his head and then shakes it.

“He’s okay. They’re gonna check him out, probably keep them both overnight which is normal,” he says, still shaking his head. “He’s okay. Why don’t we get you checked out?” 

20 stitches in a hospital room

Between the two of you, there are 20 stitches. Four in your hand from where you’d sliced yourself with the kitchen knife just a few days ago, and 16 stitches in a small cut on his shoulder from a rock he’d uncomfortably slid on as he landed. Parachute operated fine, canopy operated fine, everything is fine. 

Except there are 20 stitches and one test result remaining completely hidden. 

You sit at his bedside while he naps off whatever they’d given him. He’s grounded for a few days, just to recover, but you wish he were grounded forever. You’d give everything you had to make sure he never got in another jet. 

“Are you okay?” He whispers, his hand in yours. You’re staring off at the wall, or maybe the window, he can’t tell. But he does know you’re out of it, because he’s called your name three times now. 

“I’m pregnant,” you whisper, so quietly he shifts to hear you better. 

“What, baby? I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

“I’m pregnant.”

When you started crying, I did too

“You’re…” he whispers, pushing himself up in the hospital bed. You don’t stop him—you can’t. “Oh, God.”

“Pregnant. I’m pregnant.”

You aren’t sure what reaction you wanted out of him, but he starts crying. You suppose that’s a suitable reaction, because you start crying, too. 

“If you want to… we haven’t even…” you stumble over your own sentences, shaking your head. “We’ve only been dating a few months, less than a year, and if you don’t want this…”

“No!” He gasps, and your heart sinks. He sees the reaction on your face and he immediately wants to fix it. There’s an overwhelming feeling of dread in the pit of his belly, he wonders if this is how you felt when you heard him eject. “No, not like that, baby, no. I want… I want this baby and a wedding and a million more babies with you.”

You look up at him, eyes wide and lip wavering. “Bob, you don’t have to just… say that.”

“Shut up,” he says, his voice more firm. You look at him closer, now. He has your undivided attention. “No, please, God. It’s you. It’s been you since the moment I saw you. I have a ring in my locker on base because I didn’t know where to hide it at our house and- and I was going to propose but this happened and…”

When the sun came up, I was looking at you 

He’s there every waking moment. Throughout all the waves of nausea and doctors appointments and midnight cravings, he’s a solid, unwavering force until your baby girl comes into your lives in the middle of the plastic tub in the living room. She doesn’t cry, not at first, quiet just like her father. She just opens her eyes, taking it all in, before a solid tap on her butt makes her curl her hands into fists and wail. The sun was just beginning to rise as she slipped from you after a long night, but you’re suddenly more awake than you had been previously. You’re crying, looking between Bobby who was adamant about getting in the pool right behind you and that tiny little baby girl. 

“She looks just like you,” Bob whispers, his hand coming up to meet yours against her back. “She looks like you.”

You just shake your head, leaning it back against Bob. Bob, who was just as exhausted, who had been at work when you called him contracting, who had raced home and changed into swim trunks and got in right behind you in water that was now slightly chilled. “She’s gonna be so much like her daddy. Quiet and kind and loving. She’s gonna be your little girl.”

He can’t stop staring at you, as the sun rises more and peaks into the living room. He doesn’t even stop staring when you’re resting on the couch, curled up in blankets and drifting off to sleep. He just holds your little baby, his little baby, and stares. 

God, he loves you both more than he could have ever imagined.

[blushstories]

UR WRITING FOR BUTCHER NOW?! this is the best news i could have woken up to, vidia! the best news!!! can i request a billy x reader drabble where she wakes up from a nightmare and thinks that he’s been taken or killed etc bc he’s not beside her in bed. and so she’s panicking and frantic, stumbling around the safehouse to find him but then he’s just in the kitchen getting some water and a lot of comfort ensues? idk if i’m making sense here 😭

OH MY GOODNESS the way i had to write this IMMEDIATELY!!!!! your mind is unmatched rosa , and you always make sense don't even worry <3 (and AHH am thrilled you like the boys too!!)

cw: blood, swearing (ofc) , but if you watch the boys you won't be disturbed, 1.2k

The sheets are crumpled under your vice-like grip, eyebrows scrunched in the way that daylight never sees. With a start, you wake. But imprinted in the darkness of your bedroom are after-images of the horrors experienced behind your eyelids; the memory of which you can't seem to shake from your mind -- blood on the floor, a thick glossy trail leading somewhere, but you can't quite see where. Footsteps have carelessly marched through it, a superiority in their gait as speckles decorate the floor, as if it had been kicked through like a puddle.

Your stomach churns, heart aching because Billy was right there. An image of a shred of Homelander's cape caught on a nail flashes across your vision, and makes bile crawl up your throat as you fling your arm to the side, for reassurance.

You find none; it's cold.

You sit up, ramrod straight, and feel again. Maybe he's about to roll off the edge. "Billy?" You whisper, not wanting to disturb the darkness. Nothing. Just cool, cotton sheets underneath wandering fingers, covers thrown away without a care. A struggle? It fills your stomach with lead as you're unable to decide if you have just woken from a nightmare, or a dusty memory.

Deep breath.

You bite the inside of your lips while swinging your legs off of your bed hastily, skipping the slippers and accepting the icy concrete floor beneath your feet. The lights are on, illuminating the wooden beams that hold up the basement you're hiding out in. It's silent, and the silence eats at your stomach. The worry gnaws at you as you scan every room for a sign of something, anything. Anyone.

You're chewing on the tip of your finger with an arm wrapped around you and pinpricks behind your eyes. Everywhere is empty, empty, empty. Your walk morphs into something quicker, more urgent as each corner contains only the flickering of the overhead lights. Something possesses you to look under the couch, you trip over somebody's shoes and narrowly dodge a beam emerging from the floor.

Your breaths quicken, the lights flicker, you trip on air. Nothing feels right, or safe, or real.

Until you enter the kitchen. His broad frame hides the kitchen sink, one arm bracing himself on the countertop while the other elbow is pointed upwards as he drinks a glass of water. You could cry in relief, you could turn around and head back to bed, but that's unfathomable when every fibre of your being is being attracted to him like a magnet. A terribly strong magnet.

You collide with his back gently and wrap your arms around his middle. The force jolts him forwards with an 'oof,' and water splatters onto your hands and fingers.

There's a glassy clink on the countertops, and he shifts in your arms, standing straighter. Calloused hands feel along your own before fastening around your wrists gently, swiping a few times and then gently coaxing you to loosen your grip. He turns around in one step, slowly and concerned.

"You alright?" He says quietly, narrowed eyes flicking between your own as he assesses your shaken state. You nod with a sniffle, face crumpling in relief as you wrap your arms around him again. The thin cotton of his shirt allows you to hear his heartbeat, steady as a drum. Real.

While you listen closely, one of his arms wraps around your shoulders, and the other hand presses your head closer into him. His thumb continues to swipe against your temple and cheek in time with his pulse.

Thump, thump, thump.

"What's gotten into you?" He says, head bowed, concerned with a tint of urgency. You take a few breaths you calm yourself, and the hand on your shoulder tightens. You don't reply, shaking your head. He places both hands on your shoulders and creates a little space between you. Your own hands hold onto his wrists, swiping the underside of them to assure yourself that he's here, he's breathing. You look away, where countertop meets floor. He waits a moment, inhales deeply, and tries again.

"O-Okay, alright, it's alright," he soothes. "What's the matter?" With the knuckle of his index finger, he hooks your chin and encourages you to look at him. "You look like you've seen a bleeding ghost!" His gaze is steady, in control. Just as he always his. "For a second I thought I did," you admit, and at the deepening lines on his forehead you continue. "There's no dignified way to tell you I had a nightmare, is there?" You laugh wetly, deflecting any embarrassment with some sort of humour. But Billy's expression doesn't budge.

"What about?" You hesitate, but his hand squeezes your shoulder. "There was-- I was just--" You pause and start again. "There was Homelander, way too much blood... you. Then you disappeared. I didn't know what to do,"

For a split second, you can see flames behind his eyes, a murderous rage that always begins to boil when anybody mentions Homelander or Vought. But then, it's like he remembers himself and his position in front of you; his eyes soften, he presses his lips into a thin line and looks down. When he looks up at you again, the rage has vanished. Confidence and reassurance replaces it, hinting at the side of Billy Butcher reserved for you, and you alone.

"Now, don't you worry, love," he begins, "the fucking cunt won't do anything to me. To us. Especially not while we're holding Vought by the bollocks and waiting to squeeze after Starlight's stunt yesterday." You nod, wipe away the beginnings of any tears stirring in your eyes, and cup his face in your hands. He closes the gap before you have a moment to think, his tender movements telling you everything that he can't find the words to convey. You pull away after a few moments.

"What if something--" He silences you with another peck on the lips. "The 'what if's don't matter, Y/N. Right now does. I swear to you, I ain't got any plans to go anywhere." "But every time you meet Homelander, there's a chance that I won't see you again!" You say desperately, in a low voice. "Says who?" His tone is lighter, all of your worries like water off a duck's back. "Cos I know I don't."

"You promise not to do anything stupid around him?" Your hands drift to cup the back of his neck, fingers playing nervously with the tufts of hair that live there. His hands hold your waist lovingly, grounding you to the spot. "I promise, love," he says, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he sways a little on his feet. You raise an eyebrow, finding it difficult to believe him based on his history.

So, you pull a hand away from his neck and hold up a pinky finger in front of his face. You can tell it takes everything in him to not roll his eyes, or do something to that degree, but he sighs and hooks his finger with yours. You stand on your toes to get closer to his face. "Those are sacred, you know." "I know. You remind me every time, you muppet." "So, don't break it, please."

[lady-necropolis]

Ghost bc Whump Month Day Two: Collapse

Little late with these but better than never I guess!

TW for a character forgetting / neglecting to eat

You never minded working hard, and it wasn’t that you were trying to grind yourself to the bone. It was just, easy to forget about everything else on tour. There was always something. Last minute costume fixes, scheduling issues, keeping the bus clean. And the ghouls. The ghouls. Swiss and Dew making a mess after one of their shenanigans, Swiss and Dew at one another’s throats, trying to get Mountain up for rehearsals— The point was that there was always something to do!

And today was one of those days. Everything that could go wrong, was kind of going wrong. First, you were up early to get coffees and breakfast for everyone because a particularly plucky fire ghoul fried the outlets last night and no one had had time to repair them yet. Thankfully, Aether was up early too and offered to come with and help you bring it all back so you got some mercy there. Then you broke up a squabble about who took the last cinnamon roll and went about making calls to reschedule interviews, make sure the venues were prepared, let the hotel know you would be late to check in because of course, the bus was having problems.

You’d been busy. And breakfast was far gone. But you still had work to. So, you ignored the neglected rumblings of your stomach and your shaky hands and pushed through the best you could. It was your turn to clean the bus anyway, and you were nearly done, only the kitchenette left. You’d eat as soon as you were done. You’d bent down to pick up a fork you’d dropped while doing the dishes when footsteps resounded behind you, coming to a casual stop.

“Hey sister, do you know if we have any crackers left?” Dewdrop asked, yawning. Probably just got up from a nap.

“Um.” You frown, standing up. Blood rushes from your head and you steady yourself with a hand on the counter, little black spots slowly creeping their way into your vision. “Check the cabinets,” you sigh. “Can’t remember.” Every second that goes by the black spots creep further and further in. You shake your head, gripping the counter. Just push through. Almost done. You take a glass from the sink, fumbling for the dish rag.

“Hey, you good?”

“Hmm?” You turn around, leaning back on the counter. Dew’s voice is coming from somewhere, but right now you can’t possibly pinpoint exactly where that somewhere might be.

“You didn’t answer my question.” His voice is hollow, and why is everything spinning? The glass slides from your hand, shattering on the floor with a loud crash. “Shit!”

“Oopsie Daisy,” you mumble. You hear a distant “Fuck!” as the world goes black.

“She just went down.” A cold sweat sweeps over you, and as you crack your eyes open, you’re vaguely aware of two shadowy heads looming over you.

“Did she hit her head?” There’s cotton in your ears, fuzzy, muddled.

“Nah, caught her before she fell.”

“What happened?” You groan, trying to sit up.

“Hey, hey, hey, easy.” Aether’s guides you up to sit slowly with firm, gentle hands on your shoulders, and you blink in confusion.

“You passed out on me,” Dew says softly. Then there’s a glass of water thrust into your hand. You take a small sip, and then another. The cold water soothing your befuddled mind, lifting that heavy fog.

“We should get you to your bunk. You need to rest right now,” Aether murmurs. All you can do is nod weakly, letting the Aether ghoul help you up from the floor and walk you to your bunk. He settles you in with a cold facecloth on your forehead, saying he’ll come check on you in a bit.

You’re alone for a few minutes, finishing off your glass of water when there’s a knock on the outside of your bunk. You pull back the curtains to find Dew holding a plate with some crackers, cheese, and a few candies on it

“Feelin’ good enough to eat something?” You offer him a small smile and scoot over on the smell bed, patting the empty space next to you in offering. The fire ghoul huffs, but takes your offer, handing you the plate before settling in, tucking a hand behind his head.

“Thanks,” you murmur, gingerly taking a bite out of a cracker. When it doesn’t upset your stomach, you wolf it down, putting a slice of cheese on the next one.

“Figured you hadn’t eaten,” he chuckles, and you nod.

“Got busy.”

“I know. You’ve been going non-stop all day.” He frowns at you, a very unfamiliar crease forming between his brows. He’s worried.

“Sorry,” you murmur sheepishly around another cracker, and Dew shakes his head.

“No, no you don’t have to apologize. It’s just—you scared me is all.” He grumbles it out, a hand scratching at his brow. And your heart melts a little bit at that. You snuggle closer to the fire ghoul, and though you’re fully expecting him to pull away, he doesn’t. “C’mere,” he mutters under his breath, sliding an arm under your head, pulling you into his side. You rest your head on his chest, feeling Dew tuck you under his chin, his warmth calming you.

“Thanks.”

“For what?” You shrug.

“Worrying about me.” A puff of soft laughter tickles your hair.

“Someone’s got to.” You merely hum, finishing off your snack and popping a candy into your mouth. Dew places the plate on the floor, and for awhile, the two of you lie together in total silence; him, petting your hair and gently purring, you with a small smile on your face.

“Can’t believe you said oopsie daisy before passing out,” Dew snickers, and you squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment.

“Shut up!” you groan, but you’re laughing along with him.

“It was cute.”

“Yeah?” You crane your neck up, and he looks down at you, grinning in amusement.

“Yeah.”

The exhaustion of the day is getting to you, and Dew’s warmth and the sway of the bus are certainly not helping. You fight to keep your eyes open.

“Hey,” Dew murmurs, noticing as you try to rub the sleep from your eyes. “Just sleep, you got nowhere you need to be.” And as though he’s pulling the thoughts straight out of your mind, Dew adds: “I’ll be right here when you wake up.” You smile into the fire ghoul’s chest, and with the feeling of his cheek resting atop your head, you drift off into much needed slumber.

[i-have-insane-that-i-am-paper]

The letter to my beloved

Summary: Larissa is dead, four years has passed. Her love writes one last letter as goodbye.

Tags: Angst

Words: 501

You know what hurts the most?

Loosing person you loved dearly,

it hurts when their face becomes foggy,

and voice muddled.

It hurts so bad when I enter the room you used to occupy but no longer are there.

It rips me apart when I see the books you used to read,

and stool you sat on.

Memories surround me, and it feels like warm hug.

I still remember heat of fire as it gently enveloped room in it's warmth, and shined against my back.

I remember the floor I sat on as I listened to you speak and tell me the tales of your life.

I remember it all so vividly it hurts.

I remember blonde hair and red lips, warmest blue eyes and voice that brought comfort.

I remember how you made me laugh,

I still feel the hugs you gave me.

It still follows me trough life how comforting you were.

Life isn't as it used to be.

I needed four full years to even look properly at the grave you lay in now.

I did see glimpses of it but couldn't bare to look at it for long.

It would always dawn on me that never again will I see you.

I will never again hear your voice or see your smile.

I still remember how I got the news and feeling of dread.

I feel the ground beneath my feet disappearing again as it did that day.

I feel the sinking feeling in my stomach when I realise yet again that you aren't here anymore.

I cried for months, even now I cry.

My eyes never fully dry.

It hurts so bad.

When I first saw that stone with your name ingraved.

I ran as fast and as far as I could.

I simply couldn't believe it.

I felt nagging snese of dread crawl trough me.

I remembered that in the last conversation I had with you I didn't tell you I loved you.

Countless sleepless nights as memories of the past haunt me.

But what hurts most of all?

You didn't see me succeed.

I had few milestones in my life and you died before I reached any of them.

I reached for your hand every time, yet it wasn't there.

I would often imagine your voice telling me how proud you were of me.

And the smile you would have if you saw me now.

I wish for just one more moment, just to see your face once more, hear your voice and feel your hug.

But alas. That will never come.

I feel you slipping.

Your face has become blurry, I hear your voice from the distance but never can quite decipher what you are saying.

I miss you.

I love you.

My heart will never forget the memories we made, and the dreams we had. But it's forgetting your voice and face.

I am afraid....

You are slipping trough my fingers like sand and I cannot stop it...

Forgive me my love.

[stevenssticks]

okay it’s me again i have an idea for a steven smut cuz he’s my baby but anyways

AHHHHHHH

okay so like the reader has been dating steven for a while right and like one night she comes home kinda drunk and steven has been masturbating without her on the couch and she catches him by surprise and he’s super embarrassed and flustered so then she’s like “degrading” him like calling him her little slut OMGFBGDBDBD I CANT and she blows him and they eventually fuck and she edges steven until he’s a moaning mess like begging and stuff

anyways AHAAJJAJAHAH IM SORRY IF THIS DOESNT MAKE SENSE I JUST NEED HIM SO BAD

why do the walking in on ur partner masturbating tropes always get me…. like… i always feel some type of way istg. anyway.

you would be coming home from hanging out with friends to ur apartment that you now share with steven… you’re kinda tipsy, the kind of tipsy that makes you more bold than you would usually be. you fumble with your keys until you find the right one and miss the lock once before you get it in and turn the key. the sight you’re greeted with is one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen.

steven is spread out across your couch, one leg hanging off the side and the other pulled up, sweats and underwear down and hanging off one ankle. he’s got his dick in his hand, pumping it slowly, letting out the prettiest noises that you’ve had the pleasure of hearing. he looks so beautiful all spread out like that. his cock is already covered in his precum, and you suspect he’s been touching himself for a while now. you close the door rather loudly, making him aware of your arrival as he jumps up and attempts to cover himself (for reasons you can’t think of), but you take his hands in yours as you slide into his lap instead.

“what were you doing. honey? touching yourself without me? was my boy not able to wait for me?” steven whines and squirms, nudging his dick against your inner thigh. you remove your hand from his to give a light slap to his hip. “enough of that, baby. since you wanna be impatient, you’re not gonna make yourself cum tonight until i say, yeah? maybe you’ll learn your lesson..”

you get off steven to slide your jeans and underwear down your legs and into a pile on the floor before straddling him once again. you lean over him on one hand and bring your fingers to your cunt, rubbing them in your slick before pushing one finger in, eyes rolling back at the penetration but needing more, inserting another finger in. you fuck yourself with your fingers just like that, leaning over steven, making him watch and wait, still hard and aching against his stomach. you decide you’ve had enough waiting yourself, removing your fingers and taking steven’s cock in your hand to line him up.

“you’re gonna be good, right?” steven nods enthusiastically. “atta boy.”

you sink down onto him slowly, eyes rolling back at the fullness as steven lets out a wail at the feeling of you around him. you bounce on him, changing the pace every few minutes to stave off steven’s orgasm. suddenly, you start rolling your hips as fast as you can muster, making steven throw his head back and howl.

“gonna cum…” steven mutters through heavy breaths.

“steven, no.”

“please.. i cant.! i can’t hold it.” steven squirms, abs tightening, legs shaking. tears well up in his eyes.

“you can, you will.” taking mercy on him, you stop your movements all together, making steven whine as tears spill over, full on sobbing at the feeling of too much and not enough at the same time. bringing your hand up to his face you wipe his tears as they fall, hips gyrating in little circles to slowly speed up again. you bring him to the edge just like that over and over again, until steven can only lay there and sob and take it, having given up on getting his release.

you slow one last time, understanding he’s had enough. you kiss his cheek, and then over his closed eyelids, coaxing him to open them so you can look at him properly. more tears fall when he opens his eyes. “you did so good for me baby, you wanna cum now?”

“please..” is all steven gets out before he lets out another sob as you start to move again. not going as fast as you had before. instead a hard, slow pace that had your brains turning to mush. you take steven’s hands in yours, encouraging him now. “come on honey, i can feel you. you’re almost there. come on. cum for me. that’s it…”

you drop yourself down on steven one more time and then the boy flat out wails as he cums. his hips stutter up into you and then you’re cumming too, stimulation on your clit from grinding against his pubic bone on the downstrokes getting you there. you both roll your hips into each other through the aftershocks, and you come to lay down on top of him still hand in hand.

“i didn’t go too hard, right?”

“‘was perfect.. thank you.”

“i’m gonna go get a towel to clean us up, okay?”

steven is already asleep.