#brokenxheartedqueen

[brokenxheartedqueen]

Disappearing Dove

A/N- Hi everyone! I've always wanted to put down on paper some of the story ideas I've always had running around my brain, so here we are! Its my first time publishing anything like this, so please feel free to leave any tips that could help me better myself as an author. I hope you enjoy!

TW- talks of abuse, trauma, death, guns

Prologue

   She ran as fast as her legs would let her. Her hazel eyes darting around to make sure no one was following. Lungs greedy and burning for as much oxygen as they could inhale. She slows, not being able to endure much more on her bare feet. With a shaky breath, she takes another glance around herself before falling onto her knees. The cold wind whips through her hair as if pulling her brunette strands like children teasing one another. The thin nightgown she wears does very little to protect her from the freezing temperatures of the forest air. The crunch of her feet startles her, not realizing she has gotten up and started walking again. As if fear were controlling her every movement, down to how quickly she blinks her eyes. 

   “Please, whoever is out there, I haven't done anything! Please! I promise i'll never say a word to anyone” she sobbed while whipping her head around, trying to find the source of her torment. The forest was eerily quiet as she stood in a small clearing. It seemed the wind had even grown tired of mocking her. With the moon being her only source of light, it's no wonder she never saw the shadows creep behind her, nor the hand that wrapped around her face. Suddenly struggling to breathe, she panics. Kicking her legs in every direction while flailing her arms, her vision grows hazy, and then eventually dark. The headache she will feel in the morning will be the only evidence that this wasn't all a terrible dream. With her last ounce of consciousness, she forces herself to pay attention to her surroundings. 

   With her body limp, she feels herself pressed against a warm body. Being carried bridal style to what she assumes is a car from the feeling of leather beneath her when her body is laid down. Her last few minutes of holding onto reality before letting her slumber overcome her was filled with the most delicious cologne she had ever smelt, and the mumblings of “You’ve put my men through quite the trouble, my Dove.” Rough fingertips surprisingly glide over her cheeks, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “But I've been searching for you for so long, I wasn't going to let you get away so easily. We’ll never have to be apart again, I promise.” He all but whispered into the top of her head where he placed a kiss. Then, sleep finally came. 

 _____________________________________________________________

    Three things had greeted her after opening her eyes. First was the sun, which was as normal as any other morning. However, the arm she saw slung around her waist, and the gun sitting atop of the nightstand next to her head, was what woke her up and sent her brain into overdrive. The scream that left her mouth made the owner of her current restraint suddenly shoot up, pushing her behind his body while he reached for the object of her terror. Breathing heavy and now facing the door, her captor quickly scanned the room for his eyes, searching for the danger. His tense shoulders relaxed once he realized there wasn't a threat at all, to him at least. Hers, however, seemed to tighten more if possible. He lets out a breath he was holding and turns towards the woman in his bed. “You scared me, Dove. Are you alright? Did you have a bad dream?”

   The sincerity within his green eyes clashed with the knowledge that he was ready to kill someone for her. The pistol was still firmly grasped within his hand, sending her brain into a frenzy. “Please,” she begged while springing out of bed, “I won't tell anyone I swear.” Her head whipped around the room in search of the nearest exit. “Please let me go home. I didn't do anything, I don't even know who you are!” she exclaimed while taking small steps backwards towards the door. 

   She felt fear seize her when he began to take long strides in her direction from the bed. In a split second, she scrambled backwards, but only to slide against the wall. God, wasn't the door just right behind her? With her mysterious man still stalking towards her like she was prey, she rushed out her words in a hushed whisper. “Please...I...I don't even know who I am”, she heard his steps slow to a halt, so she continued. “I don't even know my name, or even my own age.”

   After a tense moment of the two just looking into each other's eyes, another “please” was barely spoken above a whisper, but loud enough for the man to hear the pain and desperation. It was almost humorous how quickly he dropped to her feet in order to see her face. His hands hovering over her thighs, seeming to almost be scared to touch something so delicate. “I promise you, Darling, I'll answer all your questions, but please sit back down on the bed. You've been through a lot the past 24 hours, so please, get back on the bed.” The hesitance must have been written all over her face, because the man then stood and slowly walked backwards towards the bed in question. She stands with her back against the wall for another moment or two, and then she begins to head towards the satin sheets. 

   When she reaches the bed, she sits as far away from the intimidating man as possible. Feet tucked beneath her, she takes a deep breath and finally looks at him. I think I forgot how to breathe. For the first time since waking up, she gets a good look at him. From his broad shoulders covered in layers of muscle, to his lean torso, it was no question that his body was attractive. However, when she reaches his face, that's where the beauty really comes in. The specks of hazel within his green eyes captivated her and stole her breath once again. His olive skin seemed to glow within the sunlight shining through the curtains, which only added to the ethereal aura he had about him. His high cheekbones and chiseled jaw only seemed to enhance his attractiveness by tenfold. Too busy undressing her kidnapper with her eyes, what the hell is wrong with her?, she failed to notice he was appreciating her beauty just the same. 

   Eyes roaming over the edge of her nightgown that was just barely reaching the tops of her knees in the position she was sitting in, his hands twitch. Wanting to sweep his fingers under the hem to feel the soft heaven that is her thighs, he takes a deep breath to steady himself. Traveling upwards, her soft breaths catch his attention. Her chest rising and falling quickly, his eyes shoot up towards hers, hoping to calm her down. Instead of finding fear in her gaze, he finds curiosity. He can work with that, he thinks to himself. “My name is Vincent Romano. I took over my fathers business when I was 18. When we were younger, we used to play together in the gardens. Our fathers were friends before...well, I'll explain that to you later. But what matters is that you and I are not strangers. You may not remember me, but I've always dreamt about the girl in the lilac dress who stole my heart every summer as a child.” he began. Her heart thumped particularly hard when he mentioned being in love with her as a child. A man she doesn't even recognize dreams of her still? “What happened?” She hears herself say, surprising both herself and Vincent. Vincent, she thinks, it suits him well. 

   The intensity of his gaze caused a shiver to run down her spine. His mood immediately shifting into one of hatred. “They stole you away. Your father had made a deal with mine, and had broken his end of the contract. He was a greedy man who wanted to use his own daughter to further his gain. He had you taken and locked away, but I've never stopped looking for you, Dove.” By the end of his short explanation, he was staring into her eyes with what could only be explained as pure loyalty and dedication. She's going to need an inhaler if he keeps looking at her like that. “But...why would my father do that?” she looks down into her clasped hands. “I always knew I wasn't their child, but they never spoke about my real parents,'' she whispered to herself under her breath, but he heard enough. “Who, my darling? What are the names of the men who dare keep you locked away all these years?” he rushed forwards, grabbing her hands and holding them in a firm grip atop her thighs.  

   “I don't know their names. They've never told me, but I know that they live near the woods. I used to sit and listen to the owl hoot through the vents in the attic. The only time I've ever been outside of the attic was when I escaped. I don't know exactly where the house is, but it has to be near here. Otherwise, I would have died before anyone found me” she said. His hands tightened around her own, almost too tight for her liking. “I will make sure you never have to go through anything like that again, my darling. I promise you'll never want for anything ever again, and you'll never be locked in a room to be hidden from the world.” he spoke with passion, leaning closer to her face in the process. She took another deep breath, and finally asked the most important question on her mind. 

   “Do you know my name?” she cautiously asked, not sure she was ready for the emotions that would come with a single word. His eyes softened, adam’s apple bobbing when he cleared his throat. “Alessia Vitali” he softly answered. Body tensed as if preparing for a physical impact from his words, but she felt nothing. No memories of her supposed childhood with Vincent, no familiarity with her surname, nothing at all. “It will take some time to get used to all of this, and I know you probably have more questions that you'd like answers to, but I can't give them to you right now.” He all but sighed while rising from the edge of the bed. “I have some work that needs my attention, but I promise as soon as I am back we can sit down and you can ask me as many questions as you'd like”. 

   Now standing at the door, he turns back to look at the object of his affection from his childhood, awaiting her response. “When will you be back? Am I allowed to leave?” she timidly asked while pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He sighed once again, and walked back towards the bed. “I’m not sure, Dove. But you're free to roam anywhere you'd like within the boundaries of my home.” he points towards a window that shows a glimpse of the gardens that she had supposedly played in as a child. Her heart soared thinking of finally feeling a flower beneath her fingertips. “Thank you” she rushed to say before Vincent took his exit. “For taking care of me, even though i'm not really sure of who you are, or even who I am, but I know that I've had more freedom here in the past 24 hours then I've had in the past 10 years of my life.” He kissed the top of her head and held her hands in one of his. “I would do anything for you Alessia. You will never want for anything ever again. I promise”. 

   He stood, said goodbye one last time, and closed the bedroom door softly on his way out. Blowing out a breath she didn't realize she was even holding in, she laid back down under the covers and closed her eyes. Hoping to dream of a better place, maybe even a house of her own in the future with as many flowers in her garden as stars in the sky. With one last thought of how unusually safe she felt around Vincent already, her world faded to black. The only sounds were of her light snores and the birds greeting the sun from the trees outside. The wind was calm, but the fury within Vincent's mind was enough to darken the world near anyone who dared to enter his path. 

   He strode through the front gardens down towards his garage. His right hand man, Steve, quickly matching his stride. “What do you need, boss?” Steve questioned. “I need a name and an address. She was locked in an attic for her entire life.” A sinister laugh escaped his lips. “Imagine that, Stevie. Being locked in a room for 20 years? I wonder if they’d like to be locked in a cage for the rest of theirs.” He took a step forwards and leaned towards Steve's ear. “Do it quick, and do it quiet. I don't want anyone else to know that she is alive. Do you understand?” he asked his henchman while gripping his shoulder.

 “Yes, boss.”

[ownheartbeating]

hi i just saw your post from like idek when but i’m stalking your blog and you have big “i can wear a skirt and makeup and heels and look cute and innocent as shit but i can also tell you 3 different places to hide the body” energy

This is so specific JSJSJSJSJSJSJDJDJDJ thank you I think 😅

[all-time-foes]

The Jealous Type

Pairing: John Murphy X Reader

Requested: Yes by a Wattpad user

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of sex, kissing, groping

A/N: Hi, hello, I haven’t written fic in a very long time please be nice to me.

Word Count: 1,750

Masterlist 

“Bellamy, you dog!” You exclaim as you push his shoulder. He had just told you about another one of his nightly conquests, only this time it involved more than just one person.

“You know you love it,” he says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders pulling you into his side.

You grab his hand that’s resting on you and throw it off before hip bumping him away. “I can say, for a fact, that I do not, in any way, love the slutty stuff you do,” you tell him over your shoulder as you start to walk away.

“You just wish that you could be apart of the slutty stuff, huh?” His question comes with a grin and the grabbing of your hip to pull you back to the conversation.

“Oh please, I could get anyone on this campsite, and you know it,” and with a wink, you saunter away from him.

The truth is you could get anyone to sleep with you, male or female. Every single one of the delinquents wanted you in some way or another. Your sarcastic, flirty personality invited all types of people in, then your underlying sweet side kept them on the hook. If you were three percent less of a good person you could manipulate everyone and gain control as their leader.

But that’s not what you want. Truth be told there was also only one person you really wanted to be with. John Murphy.

Walking toward the drop ship you take a seat in the shade with your back resting against the metal. You missed the ark more than you thought you would. Murphy and you had a thing back up on the ark. It started before either of you had been locked up. You two had been… well not quite dating, but also more than just friends. He was there for you when your anxiety became overwhelming, and you were there for him when his father got floated. You helped each other through the rough times.

There were also nights when you two were doing more than just comforting the other. Where you would lock yourselves into your room and let each other explore the other’s body, hands roaming wherever they pleased. Although you’re flirtatious and have had countless suitors, Murphy has been the only one able to bed you and you’d like to keep it that way.

Everything changed when you came to the ground though. It was a lot harder to find alone time with him when everyone was either off setting up camp or causing trouble. And Murphy was really good at causing trouble.

“Y/N!” A voice calls out to you. Looking to your right you see him, the boy consuming your thoughts.

“Yeah, Murphy?” You raise an eyebrow at him, even though you’ve only been on the ground for a few days it’s felt like he’s been ignoring you. He leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

“I didn’t know you had a thing for the king over there,” he snidely says, head motioning towards where Bellamy was standing and flirting with his next victim.

“Excuse you?” You question him.

“Don’t act so innocent, I saw you and him today. I also heard about his escapades last night. Hope you had fun,” he spits the word fun at you like it’s poison.

“First off dick head, you should know Bellamy isn’t my type. Second, you should also know that I don’t share. Third, if I had gotten into bed with him,” you stand up and start walking just so you can bump him with your shoulder, “how would that be any of your business?” You turn back to face him, your arms outstretched, begging him to answer your question. But you continue before he can even form a thought. “Because it seems like you’re the one who’s in bed with him, guard dog.” The last words are spit back at him with just as much poison that he had for you.

“I am not his guard dog, and you’re the one who’s been flirting with every person with a heartbeat.” He takes a step closer to you, voice low and angry.

“Seriously? You think I care about any of them?” You match his step with one of your own, you two are almost chest to chest now, mere inches separating you from him.

“Well, it sure seems like you don’t care about me,”  his voice has lost its anger, instead a twinge of sadness is showing. Even though you’re only a breath away from each other his eyes won’t meet yours.

“God, you really are a dumbass Murphy. You’re the only one I’ve ever cared about.” You grab his face, forcing him to look at you.

“Then why aren’t you acting like it,” he takes ahold of your arm, prying your hand from his cheek. He doesn’t let it go quite yet, he needs to hear your answer, he needs to know that you truly care for him. Care unlike any before you has.

“You’re the one who refuses to talk to me. I’ve been trying to get your attention since we landed but you’ve been to busy trying to be the camp badass.”

“I-” Murphy looks down again, thinking of what to say, a way to justify his actions. “I just didn’t know if you wanted to be with me the way I want to be with you. It was different on the ark,” his hand that isn’t holding yours runs through his hair, “we had a set time limit of being together. Eventually one of us would turn 18 and that was it, we knew what our future held. Down here? Nothing is for sure, and I’m-” he changes his grip on your hand so your fingers are intertwined, “I’m scared. I just didn’t want to let everyone know that.”

You let out a sigh and take your hand out of his. He finally looks up at you, shock, fear, and sadness cover his face. You grab his shoulders and pull him into a hug, your hands wrap around the back of his neck as you bury your face into his skin. He pulls you even tighter into him, arms around your waist, his head resting on top of yours. That’s where you stand. You have no idea for how long or for how short, but you stand there pressed against one another.

You understand now, how could you not? You’re scared out of your mind too.

“Murphy, you’re not the only one that’s terrified. We all are. We’re just trying to distract ourselves from all of this madness.” You haven’t let go of him, just lifted your head enough to look him in the eyes, so he can see your sincerity.

“Even you?” He looks at you, a smirk finding its way onto his lips.

“Me? Scared? Only in your wildest dreams.” You take a step away from him with a wink to follow.

“Doll, let me assure you that you’re feeling a very different emotion in my dreams,” he says as he grabs your waist, his grip is tight on you. He’s not willing to let you go quite yet.

“What emotion is it then? Anger? You make me feel that one quite often,” you counter his touch with one of your own, grabbing the back of his neck. You don’t know when this became a competition, but you’re definitely going to win it.

“I can get you fired up in a different way,” his hand slides from your waist to your ass, grabbing it tighter than he had before.

“I doubt it,” you lean up to whisper in his ear, “I don’t think you have the skill.”

That’s all it took for him to give in. The next thing you know your back is against the drop ship and his mouth is on yours. Your hands move to his hair, pulling on the strands on the base of his neck.

His hands are wandering all over you, moving from one place to another faster than you can keep track of. They’re on your waist, your thighs, your breast, anywhere he can grab on to you. He’s not only doing it for pleasure but to make sure you’re really there. That his seemingly perfect match is real. That you’re real.

You match his ferocity with your own, lips moving in perfect, fast-paced synch before you break away. Your lips move down his neck- sucking, kissing, licking until you find the spot. The spot that makes someone go weak in the knees. For him, it's right where his neck meets his shoulder. You continue to suck his sweet spot, determined to leave a hickey, to let everyone know he belongs to you.

He hoists you up by the back of your thighs, instinctively you wrap your legs around him. You can feel everything in this position, and he makes sure of that as he thrusts his hard-on into you. Breaking away from his neck you lean your head against the wall, gasping.

It’s his turn now to coat your neck in kisses. Little moans and whimpers fall from your lips, his kisses combined with his thrusts are driving you up the wall. You were desperate for him. It had only been a few days, but they were enough to make you miss him more than you ever thought possible.

You grab him once again, pulling his lips back to yours. Moving your hand down, down, down you feel his core muscles contracting underneath his shirt before you reach your destination, the top of his pants. Carefully you go to slip your hand-

Snap. The sound of a branch breaking brings you out of your pleasure filled moment. Murphy stops once the sound registers with him, he lets go of you- letting your legs hit the ground so you’re standing once more.

“Well, that was fun,” he smirks down at you, his hand is on the wall next to your head keeping you close to him.

“It’ll be even more fun when you join me in my tent tonight,” you say as you slip under his arm and walk back towards camp.

“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” he stands in the same place you left him, staring at your retreating form.

“Well, you would be a fool not to,” you reply, not even looking at him over your shoulder. You didn’t need to, you know he’ll be there.

Tag List

@immortalmurphy  @fishtanksubmarine @deathsflowergirl @Thehipsterbubble @Acemoj85 @10blurredsmoke10 @Katrina-keesee @hanjelia @writingcroissant @queen-of-all-things-snuggly @drmccoy-ruinedmylife @brokenxheartedqueen @100spacewalkers @blood-on-my-french-fries @enoraturner

[all-time-foes]

Brick by Brick

Pairing: John Murphy X Reader

Requested: Yes

Warnings: fight scene, cursing

A/N: Writing for season five was interesting! Requests are open!

Word count: 1,160

Masterlist 

You duck out of the way of the fist flying towards you before dropping to the floor. Sweeping your leg around it comes into contact with your opponent’s shins, knocking them to the ground. Standing up once more you wait for them to get up.

“You need to focus,” you tell Murphy as he rolls over, pushing himself back onto his feet. “Think about what I’m going to do next, not what I’m doing right now.”

Echo wasn’t the only warrior on the ship, you and her were alike in many ways. Both of you were kidnapped by Azgeda and forced to become fighters. Although Echo was determined to move on from her past, you chose to capitalize on yours. Skaikru accepted you after your banishment, in trade you taught their soldiers how to fight, how to win against the grounders. Now you were training Murphy until he decided to join everyone again, Bellamy’s orders.

“Again,” you bark at him.

Lunging towards you Murphy grabs your arm twisting it behind your back and pressing you against the wall. With your free hand, you grab Murphy’s shirt. It’s enough of a distraction for you to push one of your legs between his and kick it out from under him.

“You keep getting me on the ground, trying to tell me something?” His smirk says it all. Murphy doesn’t like feeling weak, so flirting is how he gains control.

As he goes to stand you kick his chest forcing him back to the floor. You drop to your knees next to him, throwing a leg around his waist you’re now straddling him. Grabbing his wrists you place them above his head. He’s trapped.

“Yeah, I’m trying to tell you,” leaning down to whisper in his ear, “you suck at this,” you say. Two can play at his game.

Suddenly he flips you so you’re the one on the bottom now. “What was that about anticipating the next move?”

God, did that stupid smirk ever leave his face? Your knee meets his crotch in retaliation, catching him off guard. He rolls off of you, groaning and clutching his balls in pain. Men are so weak.

The entire reason you were doing this was to lift Murphy’s spirits and get to the bottom of his isolation. Bellamy was convinced he was depressed and needed someone to talk to, and to his credit, you were pretty sure he was right. Every time you tried to talk to him about anything other than fighting he deflected you, changed the subject or made a flirty comment.

“That,” he points at you, “was not okay.”

“You had a weak spot, I found it,” you sit up and shrug your shoulders at him.

“So, do you think I could’ve been an Azgeda warrior?” He rises to a sitting position so he’s face to face with you, knees almost touching.

“Oh John Murphy, you wouldn’t stand a chance,” you tilt your head at him, tone as condescending as they come.

“I think I held my own against you,” he leans in, eyes glinting with mischief. It’s a look you haven’t seen on his face in a long time, for a moment it takes your breath away.

“Yeah, when I was holding back,” you rise from the ground holding a hand out to him, he grasps it and you pull him up to you.

“You keep telling yourself that,” he bumps you with his shoulder. You look over at him, no matter how hard Murphy tried to hide what he was feeling you could always see through him. It came with being a spy. Right now he was trying to hide a sadness, one that had been within him for a long, long time.

“I’ll tell myself that for as long as you tell yourself you’re okay,” the gleam in his eyes leaves when your words register. He really thought he had fooled you, made you think he was okay when he’s so obviously not. You didn’t need to be a mind reader to know he felt alone and unneeded.

“Murphy, you know we all care about you, right? We’re all scared too, I’ve never seen anything but the ground, being in this metal death trap we call a home terrifies me,” your hand automatically finds his arm rubbing soothing circles into him.  

“I’m not scared,” he shakes your hand off of him, “I just-”

He cuts himself off, keeping everything concealed like he’s done his whole life.

“Don’t feel needed,” you supply him with the words he was looking for. A sigh leaves his lips. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like that, it wasn’t my intention. I know what it feels like to be unwanted. I never want you to feel like that.”

“It’s not you Y/N, you’ve always been there for me,” he looks you in the eyes when he says that.

Truth be told you two had been there for each other. You met him in Arkadia before John had joined Jaha on his journey. He and you were…  dating you guess? You had never really had a lover, let alone a boyfriend, before, warriors weren’t allowed to enjoy frivolous pleasures of the skin. Instead, they were to be dedicated to defending the throne. Being with Skaikru was the first time you finally felt free. And being with John was the first time you finally felt heard.

He felt the same way, no one had given a damn before you. But then he met Emori. You couldn’t blame him for falling for her, she was gorgeous and misunderstood- just like him. But now, it was just you two here like how it used to be, how it was supposed to be. Emori had kicked him out, she knew what was wrong just not how to help him; this was a problem she couldn’t relate to.

“And I will always be here,” you grab his hand in yours. “Murphy, I want to talk to you, to know what you feel. What’s happened to you since the last time we actually got to talk?”

“A lot has changed,” he only says three words but they reveal defeated he is. He turns back to you, you can see his walls coming down in front of you, brick by brick. Murphy is broken, but you’re determined to help him put himself back together again.

“So tell me all about it,” you ask of him.

And that’s what he does. You both go back to your room and he divulges everything that’s happened to him. He puts the darkest parts of him on a platter, there for the taking. You devour them. In turn, you display your own demons, the ones that have followed you since your childhood. The night ends with the two of you passed out in your bed, as you slept you gravitated towards each other, when you awaken in the morning you’re clutching one another.

Taglist

@immortalmurphy  @fishtanksubmarine @deathsflowergirl @hanjelia @writingcroissant @queen-of-all-things-snuggly @drmccoy-ruinedmylife @brokenxheartedqueen @100spacewalkers @blood-on-my-french-fries @enoraturner

[all-time-foes]

Walls

Pairing: Leonard McCoy X Reader

Requested: No

Warnings: Nope

A/N: I’m sorry I haven’t been writing lately loves, but this is my try at getting back into the swing of things. Enjoy this little drabble! 

Word Count: 325

Masterlist 

“Now what are you doing?” The words rang out across the small space you shared with your boyfriend, but barely caused a reaction from you. 

Shifting your head to the side so it was not face planted into the bed all you could manage as a response was a deep groan. You were resting flat on the bed, stomach pressed into the freshly cleaned sheets, arms and legs spread every which way around you. If somebody saw you from an aerial standpoint you would look like the murder victim in a twenty-first-century detective show.

“C’mon sweetheart, use your words,” Leonard says while walking towards you, and as he nears he takes his shirt off and holds it out to you.

 Sitting up you grab the shirt, pulling your own off you replace it with his. You hold the collar of it up to your nose and take in a whiff of his scent- antiseptic, wood, and grumpiness. Your body relaxes into the fabric and you can feel your walls unlocking, the door opening just enough for him to enter your mind. 

“I’ve typed out so many reports I feel as if my fingers are going to fall off,” as you confess your woes to him, you lightly push him so he’s leaning against the headboard and you settled yourself so you’re leaning against him. 

Without missing a beat he takes one of your hands in both of his and starts slowly massaging it, thoroughly working the muscles you didn’t even know you had. 

“Is that all?” His voice is merely a whisper into your ear as he continues his ministrations. “I also may have missed you,” you whisper in kind, as he switches hands. 

“How much?” Once he’s finished with your other hand, his own start to wander. They creep up your arms, run down your sides, rubbing soothing circles on your stomach, touching anything and everything. Arching your back against him you reply, “Desperately.”

Taglist

@immortalmurphy @fishtanksubmarine @deathsflowergirl @hanjelia @writingcroissant @queen-of-all-things-snuggly @drmccoy-ruinedmylife @brokenxheartedqueen @ex-strata-scientia @outside-the-government @arrowswithwifi @mad-girl-without-a-box @captainsbabysitter-blog @sergeantangel