#but god I’m trying SO HARD everything is just so much effort and so draining

[doctor-wombat]

.

[myuntoldstory]

i'll marry you after this

Written for @jilymicrofics Mystery Microfic May Event. Everyone's guessed me right!

A special thanks to @eastwindmlk for the wonderful banner as well.

Prompt 9: Whisper

“I’ll f-fucking marry y-you after this,” James breathes. “You’ve already proposed to me,” she jokes, voice low and devoid of humour. It takes all her effort not to let her focus slip. “N-no, fuck,” he grits his teeth. “I m-mean marry you after t-this. I don’t want to wait. W-we can v-very well die soon and I d-don’t want to d-die without b-becoming your h-husband.”

During a mission, Lily and James find themselves in a noise-activated trap. With James injured and time running out as the Death Eaters close in on them, Lily has to work fast to save her fiancé and get out.

read on ao3 or under the cut

warnings: blood, pain, mild violence, references to dying

“James!”

A whistle, a gasp. Lily stares at the arrow with wide eyes. The head is embedded into the stone where she used to stand. She moves, foot slipping across the small puddle of blood. A loud thump echoes in the room as she falls. Panels open on the walls. She dodges the arrows flying straight at her. Something clicks as the last arrow whistles past her ear. She looks around the room where she and James have jumped in to escape the Death Eaters.

James.

He’s on the floor, teeth gritted, breathing heavily. He seems to be close to screaming. Lily shakes at the sight of him. Panic bubbles from the bottom of her stomach, and she tamps it down. Carefully, quietly, she crawls towards her fiancé, eyes darting at the walls, terrified of anything that’ll trigger it. But thank god, thank god. She reaches for him, pulls him towards her lap.

Blood. So much of it. So much of his life leaking out of him and onto stone. Her breaths come out in strained bursts. Trembling fingertips reach towards the arrow sticking out of his abdomen. She presses her hand around the wound, a futile effort to keep what’s left of him inside—her mind blanks; the four walls around them close in, trapping her, draining all hope.

“Lily—”

“Shh—shh…” she whispers, pressing crimson fingers against his mouth. “Noise… activates…”

James’ eyes flutter and dart around. “O-okay…”

“D-don’t move—”

“Fuck!”

“Sorry—I’m sorry.” She looks closely at how bad he is, how hard she has to fight the fates this time to keep him alive. She bites back a cry. “Oh my god—no, no, it’s f-fine—you’ll be f-fine.”

“C-comforting after that l-little f-freak out...” He musters a pained smile.

“S-shut up.” That’s him trying, but she can’t smile for him. Not this time. “Shut up. It’s deep and poisoned—Christ, James.” She sniffles, pushing back the tears, the panic. “I-I have a fix, but I have to—I’m sorry—I have to pull it out.”

“... I h-have to be q-quiet?”

“Y-yeah. I’m sorry—”

“F-fuck it. I-I’m ready.”

“Okay.” She braces herself. It’s like the poison inside him is transferring to her, spreading dread and an unshakeable feeling that they will not survive. Not this time. “Just… deep breath, okay, and keep quiet.”

Lily barely moves, but James hisses. She tenses, but all remains quiet. She pets James’ hair, kisses him. He barely kisses back, lips trembling, all of him shaking—whether from pain or because he’s dying. She doesn’t know—she doesn’t want to. He’ll live. She’ll make sure he fucking does. They’re not dying here. Dying here kills everything they ever fought, sacrificed, and died for, all to keep a man hellbent on destroying everything they loved at bay.

She hears the thundering footsteps of the Death Eaters in the distance. It won’t be long before they find them. If she doesn’t move now, if she keeps hesitating, then they will die here. It won’t matter what she wants. She steels herself, looks down at James, curls her hand into a tight fist and pushes her arm along his lips.

“W-what are you doing?” he murmurs.

“Bite on me.”

“What—”

“Do it, Potter; I’m pulling it out in one go.”

She shoves her arm into his mouth as he protests, at the same time pulling the arrow out in one movement. She grits her teeth, a whimper hissing out as James’ teeth sink past her skin. A quiet, muted grunt escapes him—not loud enough for the trap. They stay still for a few seconds, laboured breaths stuttering out.

Then, she gets to work.

She’s best at non-verbal healing spells, but it takes immense concentration. She stitches the wound, stops the poison from running its course, but she can’t expel it. That’s for the healers at St Mungo’s to deal with. For that to happen, they must get out. Now.

The footsteps thunder closer.

“I’ll f-fucking marry y-you after this,” James breathes.

“You’ve already proposed to me,” she jokes, voice low and devoid of humour. It takes all her effort not to let her focus slip.

“N-no, fuck,” he grits his teeth. “I m-mean marry you after t-this. I don’t want to wait. W-we can v-very well die soon and I d-don’t want to d-die without b-becoming your h-husband.”

“Okay. Marry me.” Tears sting her eyes. “Marry me. Let’s have kids.”

“R-really?”

“You want a son, right?” she grins at him, tears falling down her cheeks. “I’ll give you one.”

“I l-love you so m-much.”

“Don’t,” she grits, not mistaking the tone he let slip. “Don’t you dare.”

James nods, falling silent. They need to escape. She props James against her, looking around. Despite the trap being noise-activated, she can still do magic. An idea occurs to her—risky, but it’s their best chance. And it has to be non-verbal. Doubt makes her pause, but one look at James, and she knows it’s a risk she must take.

Holding him against her, she closes her eyes and concentrates. Two spells—both have to be perfect. She steadies her breath. In a split second, explosions thunder overhead. The panels open, and arrows rain towards its direction. At the same time, she grips James and apparates them out of the trap, leaving a loud crack in its wake.

They land on wet grass—the rendezvous point. Lily on her back, an unconscious James in her arms. There’s noise—horror, joy, alarm, familiar, safe, but it’s all fuzzy. She loses sense of everything. It all converges and crashes on her like a wave, dragging her in the rip, weighing down her lids. Her left arm throbs from James’ bite, pinpoints of pain on her shoulders, extreme heat…

But it’s okay.

They’re now safe with the Order, their friends.

So, she lets darkness overtake her.

[babyfairy]

i feel like i need to find a therapist again. i’m getting so frustrated with how often i come off wrong and i feel like i have so many issues with communication that i genuinely don’t know how to address because i don’t feel secure communicating no matter who i’m talking to. i’m always second guessing or overthinking it. and i know that has a lot to do with my OCD and anxiety but i feel like it’s done so much damage to my interpersonal relationships and other peoples’ perception of me and knowing that is so embarrassing for me it makes me want to just stop talking completely. but even when i do that it upsets others and comes off wrong. i wish i could wipe everyone’s memories of me sometimes and just start over. like it’s gotten to a point where i’m scared to deepen my relationship with my more casual friends because i’ll just end up upsetting or disappointing them somehow. like i feel like i need to be coached through things that everyone around me is able to handle and i hate that.

mental health resources here are so lacking though and after my last experience with a therapist + trying to find resources for family members in crisis i feel so drained and frustrated with everything i just don’t want to bother. on top of looking for another job and worrying about my family and not being able to enjoy my hobbies anymore and never being able to sleep well i feel like i’m at my fucking wits end dude like i don’t understand why regardless of how hard i try or what i do nothing seems to get any better. and all anyone has to say about it is they’re sorry. no one knows what to say. and like of course not because who would have all the answers but sometimes i just want to fucking tear my head off because i don’t think anyone realizes how fucking badly i just don’t want to be here and it takes constant effort for me to not think about anything but being dead rofl like i think maybe some people think im exaggerating or joking or trying to make people feel sorry for me but i genuinely loathe being alive like actually fucking hate it and think im not supposed to be here. and everything is a reminder that im not good enough at something or not where i need to be. im tired of always whining lmao i know it’s annoying like i can feel that people around me are fatigued with me being like this but i don’t know what else to do anymore like i don’t know how much more im expected to take? i don’t have anything going for me and there’s nothing to look forward to. anyway if you read this thanks for caring and again im sorry this blog has turned into me just nonstop complaining but it’s just like. Lol. i don’t know how anybody does it. i don’t see the beauty in life anymore. im just tired. i feel empty 90% of the time and i cry almost every day. i just wish it would stop. i don’t understand what i possibly could’ve done to deserve this level of unhappiness but i genuinely believe god fucking hates me and is punishing me because i’ve done something wrong in this life or maybe a past one. i miss my grandpa and i wish i could disappear

[pics-and-fanfics]

I'm sorry. I had a bad day and took offense to something you said. I didn't mean to actually hurt you, I just wanted to take out my anger on you and I guess make you feel angry too? That's why i sent that ask.

I'm 16 and I'm just having a really hard time in school and I'm scared of senior year and I was hurt really bad recently. I hope you can forgive me and forget about what I said. I'm just some dumb teenager who forgets how powerful words are I guess. I'm so sorry girl or nb or w/e you prefer. I hope you feel better by now, life is amazing and I hope you surround yourself with people who make you happy. Please go over this with your therapist.

I'm really sorry. I'll be more thoughtful next time i send people ask. I'll try and be a better person

Understandable, everyone has bad days, but maybe a better way to let out that anger would be to write it down and then rip it up or destroy it? Idk, I just isolate myself and hug my stuffed animals until I feel better tbh.

And yeah, I did get upset, but I wasn’t mad, I was just a little taken aback, maybe hurt? I get that school is hard, I’m still in high school too (it fucking sucks ass, I feel you there) and I’m terrified about the future. But I’ve got my friends and family and an awesome support system, in person and online, maybe find people that can be that for you, and vise versa?

Don’t call yourself dumb, that leads down a very dark hole that’s hard to climb out of and it forms into a very very bad habit, trust me. I’m working on that myself, but like everything, esp bad habits, it takes time and effort to fix. I still say stuff like “I’m so dumb” a bit too often, but I’m working on saying “no I’m not, I’m smart, I’m just having trouble” afterwards.

And yeah, words hurt. I’ve learned that the hard way, driving away people that I didn’t learn to appreciate until later, but I can’t apologize bc I have no idea where or even who they are now. Friends, strangers, even my niece (I’m working on not doing that with her tho, I love the little kid, she’s so awesome and smart and kind, at least when she doesn’t have her moms shitty attitude).

And I can forgive, but I will not forget. Kinda like the quote “The lumberjack forgets the pain he causes, but the tree always remembers.” I’m working on that too, trying to forgive others. I’m working on a lot about myself lately, I’m just realizing. I still hold grudges, esp against the person who sent the ask last year telling me to kill myself, but I don’t know if I have or haven’t forgiven them. I don’t know if I have or haven’t forgiven an old friend after what she pulled at my birthday 2 years ago, and I don’t know if I can. There are some things that can’t be forgiven, but this is so small, but it hurts so much still.

I forgive you, and I hope you have some better days coming, honestly.

If you want, you can keep sending asks when you have a bad day? They can stay anonymous, and I can try to help, if that’s okay with you. I can be part of your support system, if you want.

I’m working on a lot of things, and I hope maybe this can help you start working a little to be happier, less full of anger all the time?

But please, be kind to yourself, and if you can’t always be kind to others, then try to find a way to avoid them or ignore them. (I don’t know if I can do that with the boys in my math class tho, they are so loud and I got basically punched in the arm by one of them today, it hurt)

I love you, anon. Please be kind to yourself, and I’m here if you need to talk again. ❤️

You are enough. I love you.

(Also sorry I took forever to respond to your ask, but I saw this right before class, and then school basically drained all of my energy 😭 and then I had a shit load of homework I had to do, at least I get out for break tmrw thank god)

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

Talk Shop Tuesday! Do you fully delete everything you cut out of your drafts, or do you save all your scraps even if you know you're never, ever, ever going to use them? (And if the latter, would you consider sharing anything?)

Ooh, what a fun question!

My usual MO is to just delete. I tend to write myself into corners because i'm such a pantser and never know where the story is going, and a lot of times i just have to come back, delete like a full page and restart. And, knowing myself, if I saved everything I'd deleted, I'd probably end up putting it back in.

But for The World Through a Scope I do keep a scrap doc - I've only started it up like a year ago so most of the fic still didn't get its scraps saved. But I've been tinkering with the ending of this fic pretty much since I started (in 2017, God help me) and adding and adding to it since then. And now that I am *so* close to actually getting there, I've had to kill a lot of darlings. Some of them I may still tinker with and put back in, but here are some scraps that probably won't make it:

“Stop.” She frowns at him, with the hard look in her eyes that she could probably take on the whole world with. “It doesn’t have to hurt, okay? If the thought of you doesn’t make him feel like shit, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you. It just means that he loves you, and he’s happy you’re alive. And that’s still love.”

Her hand digs into his leg so hard it takes effort to keep quiet.

“Try to remember that,” she says, in a flat, hard voice. “I’m trying, too. If we’re gonna be happy, we have to want it first, right?”

“I guess,” he mutters and leans his head against the wall. He’s not convinced. Mothma seems to think this is the way to happy, and he can’t exactly describe it as painless. He feels drained, and a little dizzy. If Mothma gives him homework again, he doesn’t know if he’ll do it.

(He’s still grateful. But he wouldn’t tell her that. She’d only ask why, and he’d have to admit that his clearest memory of his mother’s face, his brother’s, his grandmother’s, was that of them cold and bloodied and torn, and he used to be so scared the photos would only remind him, but that they didn’t. And that that feels like a mercy he never thought he'd be granted in this lifetime, and probably not after that. He wouldn't tell her that. It would only make her ask about religion again.)

.

“What would you tell your mother, if you could tell her something?”

“Just that…,” his voice falters and he shrugs, casts his eyes down with an embarrassed smile, “… that I’m gonna be okay.”

He doesn’t think he’s ever cried in this chair before, and he wouldn’t have thought it would be the thought of his mother that would do it. But it makes sense – with her, there’s nothing mixed in, no shame or guilt or disappointment, just –

He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, takes a breath, puts himself together. “Sorry.”

Mothma shakes her head and offers him a tissue. He declines.

“It’s a good thing. Allowing yourself to feel it is important. The idea is to live with your pain, and not in spite of it.”

He smiles wrily. “That’s very clever.”

Mothma raises a brow at him. “Thank you, detective.”

“Actually, detective isn’t really… well, it’s not really the right title. I was never an American cop.”

“It takes you ten months to tell me I’m addressing you incorrectly?”

“’s not a big deal. I know what you mean, but… you can just use my name, maybe.”

“Alright.” She reaches for her book and makes a note, then looks up and adds: “You held off on telling me that so you could distract me with it when you needed to.”

He shrugs.

“Very well,” she says with a slight smile.

.

“Didn’t you get shot like, last week? What on earth are you doing here?”

“He also fell from a first-floor landing onto concrete,” Kay says flatly. “That will probably be the larger issue going forward.”

Cassian slowly lowers himself onto his chair with clenched teeth. There’s no denying he feels like shit, and probably no hiding it, either. “I’d say it’s a draw for now.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Kes repeats, his tone now one of open concern.

“Probably not,” he says, attempting a shrug and regretting it immediately.

“You should go home, Andor,” Kes says, in a voice that reminds Cassian instantly that Kes has become a father while he was gone.

His head is still pounding, and he is almost ready to admit defeat. “Alright. Catch me up to speed and I will.”

“I would not trust him on that,” Kay says, still without looking up from his monitor.

Cassian catches himself thinking he may have missed these idiots after all.

.

“You seem… better,” Kes says slowly. “Better than before, I mean.”

“I seem better since I nearly died?” Cassian gives back, raising a brow at his colleague.

Kes blushes a little, but then throws Cassian a sharp look and nods. “I… yeah.”

Cassian considers denying it, then allows himself a grim smile and gets to his feet. “Well, Dameron. We’ll make a fed of you yet.”

.

“You… you said you don’t have a lot of pictures of your father, right?”

“Only the ones Saw had,” she says quietly, frowning at him. “Why?”

“Because I’ve been thinking… The DEA does. From a few years back. They’re in the file.”

“Right.”

“I wouldn’t… They are not good pictures. I mean, they are bad quality, but they’re also… He doesn’t look well in them. But still, they… they exist.”

“Draven would kill you if you tried anything, Cassian,” she says, but it doesn’t sound like her heart is in it.

“Kes would do it. He feels bad for you. Actually, he asked if he could do anything. Kay would, too.”

She scoffs, but smiles a little.

.

oh, and way back when I did post some snippets under #from the cutting room floor

[velvetporcelain]

What is it with men being more intimate with their jobs than with women?

Why is it so easy for them to thrive outside of the household with major, important tasks but have an extremely hard time with soft, small tasks of love and intimacy?

I will no longer accept the excuse of a job being a “source” I am not fucking stupid. I know that jobs play a critical role in life.

BUT SO DO WOMEN. without us the entire world would be a ravenous beast.

Why is it so difficult for them to balance this and so easy for us? They want to walk around with their chests puffed out like some brute. HA I can be even more brutal than you, but women always choose love.

Today? I am struggling and it looks very much like Harley Quinn.

My mother told me to try and pray for him for two weeks straight. At first the thought sickens me, you mean now I have devoted my sacred time with a higher power for him? MORE TIME? MORE EFFORT? god how easy it would be to just quit. But I’m not a fucking quitter. So I suppose I will pray for him. That’s all I can do seeing that he is blind as a fucking bat.

Everything is about him and he doesn’t even know it. His ego suffocates my willingness to love him. I have to understand, I have to.

This IS life. This IS my life too. I’m so sick of being told to suck it up by weak minded and emotional men. It’s disgustingly heartbreaking. 💔 I feel all out of sympathy, drained of my life force. I wish to cocoon myself, but life’s limitations and demands make that difficult, but not impossible, so hope remains.

Losing hope may set you free, but it is the type of freedom only evil knows.

-x

[ramblesinshamblesgreenbus]

i find it funny sometimes how much women (me) try to ascribe depth to what men (him) did. i might regret a lot of the shit i said to him during the last conversation, i was a wounded wild animal feeling cornered, but i’ll never regret telling him he’s not as deep or profound as he thinks he is.

i made myself too available for him - forgiven the whole spring fiasco, forgiven the emotional unavailability, forgiven the cancelled or amended plans, the inability to carry a conversation. i devalued myself in his eyes and made him think he can put in as little effort as he wants to, and i’ll still be there, nothing changing. it’s primal and ugly and simplistic, but he got bored and started looking for something challenging someplace else. when i would be challenging, i’d be too challenging - i’d be exhausting, making him feel guilty about the past, rehashing old stuff just to spoil the mood. a new girl playing hard to get is much more fun - no history, no resentment, no deeper feeling, just the classy game of cat and mouse until you can bed her. and it’ll probably take a really long time for him to stop being satisfied with just that. i mistook pride for cowardice - but aren’t they the same thing, when they’re unfounded? even if he does see the error of his ways, he’s never gonna contact me first. he’s never gonna admit to anything. he’ll probably reduce everything that happened to “she wanted to go nc because i told her about the dating apps; and she had them installed too, the crazy bitch”. god, what a draining morning. gonna be a week of nc in a few hours and i’m proud of myself, i guess. i never thought i would resist this long. it’s the longest we haven’t talked in almost a year, and that’s so wild. the record will only surpass itself with each passing day and all i’m left with is the tears i’m trying to swallow and the knowledge i should have let go a long time ago. “everything i let go off has claw marks around it” or some shit. the feat of pulling myself off of that dying connection is something i’m also oddly proud of. god, i saw myself as entirely dependent on him, and here i am, still kicking. gonna watch avatar with T tonight (watching shit movies bc people i care about like them is growth) - can’t wait to be able to talk to him about work and not the gaping hole in my chest haha. my period is making me an emotional mess sigh

[erodasfishtacos]

can you write something about cheating harry and yn acting like a proper couple in front of anna, like harry with his arm around her and kissing her head and stuff, and anna is just standing there fuming and maybe tries to get physical with yn

Love Your Broken Pieces

-

warnings: cheating; mentions of trauma and domestic abuse

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(any donations over $15 get a guaranteed blurb written of their choosing!)

reblog, like, comment, & come chat!

-

YN really really didn’t want to go out.

She wasn’t going to tell Harry that because it was a celebratory dinner for him because he’d just won Entrperur of the yearand she wasn’t going to ruin it.

It’s not that she didn’t want to celebrate his achievement.

She was so so proud of him but her therapy session had got moved up a day because the therapist had to go out of town.

YN didn’t want to bother him so she had went herself without telling him.

It was trauma-focused therapy which meant it was intensive, draining, and overall triggering at time.

Today had sparked a new memory that she had suppressed and she was really struggling to get through the day without his support.

She shouldn’t need him for everything. It wasn’t fair to him.

So she’d sat on her bed for thirty minutes before she managed to pull on a nice dress before curling her hair - zoning out and accidentally burning herself lightly.

Harry had to pick up Anna, offered to pick up YN.

“Hey pup, y’want me t’pick you up on the way?” Harry had called while she was swiping on mascara.

“No, I’ll just Uber,” YN try to keep her tone light but couldn’t stomach sitting in the car with that disgusting woman right now.

“No, let me come get you,” He insists, always preferring to drive her around over some stranger.

“I really don’t want to be in the car with Anna, okay? Just drop it,” YN replies a bit too tersely.

There’s a pregnant pause.

“What’s wrong, puppy?” Harry knows her much to well.

She couldn’t help but bristle, “Nothing. I just have to get ready. Okay? I’ll see you there.”

YN shouldn’t have hung up like that but her hands were shaking and it was taking all of her might to pull herself together to go.

“It’s all your fuckin’ fault your mum hates me,” Her dad had spat at her, right in the kitchen after dinner.

“Fuck,” She mumbles to herself as she drops her lipstick and it rolls under the dresser.

—

She canceled two Ubers before she found a driver who didn’t seem intimidating.

It made her fashionably late, everyone already seated, and it doesn’t make it any better when Anna greets her.

“About time. Can’t even make it at a respectable time for your supposed best friend’s dinner.”

Anna and Gemma both make a grimacing face at the rude comment but Harry interrupts before they interject, “S’okay, Uber’s can be a pain in the arse.”

“Er, yeah. The Uber…” YN mumbles lowly, there was an empty seat across from Harry that had been saved for her.

She could feel Harry’s eyes following her, studying her as she kept her head down and looked on the verge of tears.

“You look too much like your goddamn mother.”

“What d’you want to drink?” Harry asks softly, tapping her foot under the table.

“God Harry, she’s not a child,” Anna rolls her eyes as she glances over her menu.

Harry glares over at her with a strict warning glance that she needs to change her attitude or there is gonna be an issue.

“Just water,” YN replies, swallowing hard.

He knows somethings wrong when she doesn’t bite back at her, instead looking down at the menu like it’s the most interesting thing ever.

Harry had already known by the phone call.

There were quite a few people at the dinner, constantly engaging him in conversation as YN kept to herself.

It’s after the appetizer’s arrive that he can’t stand her fake smiles and attempts to seem like she’s enjoying herself.

“Outside, now,” Harry says firmly, not a question but a statement.

“Harry, don’t,” Anna huffs, not liking the private attention her enemy is about to get.

“I don’t remember askin’ you,” He hisses under his breath before following YN’s retreating figure to the main entrance.

They end up in the small alleyway, “Tell me what’s going on.”

YN’s eyes are moody, putting back on a nonchalant expression that would work for anyone but him, “I’m fine, I don’t know why you’re making a big deal. Let’s go enjoy your dinner.”

Harry backs her up against the brick wall, hand over her shoulder, “We’re not goin’ anywhere until you tel me. M’not stupid.”

It triggers something because she starts sniffling, whispers, “You’re going to be mad at me.”

His hard facial features relax, pressing his forehead to hers, “Please pup, y’know I love you no matter what.”

“My therapist moved our session to today. I went and uh…” YN begins to full on cry, burying her face in her hands.

“C’mon, tell me,” He encourages softly.

“It triggered a repressed memory. I…I didn’t want to ruin tonight for you. I fuck up everything for you already,” She chokes out, letting him pry her hands away.

“Puppy,” He murmurs with a laugh of disbelief, “I fuckin’ wake up everyday because of you. You make my life worth livin’. I’m not happy unless y’are.”

“I just…didn’t want tonight to go like this,” YN sighs quietly, “One night without my trauma.”

“Hey, hey. We’re workin’ through it together, yeah? It takes time. Y’made the effort to come and that means more to me than anything else,” He says truthfully, tilting her chin up.

Harry melts a bit when she leans up to give him a lightening fast peck, “I am so proud of all your accomplishments.”

“Wouldn’t have done any of it without you, sweet girl,” He rubs a thumb under her eye to wipe off a streak of makeup.

They stand outside for a minute longer in a tight hug.

-

When they walk back into the restaurant, Harry quietly asks Gemma to switch YN seats which she graciously agrees without a fuss.

Anna is shooting daggers at YN while the change happens and Harry pushes in her seat for her.

The whole dinner consists of Anna fuming and hanging on every single movement between the two despite her hand on Harry’s thigh.

When he scoops up a bit of his mashed potatoes and feeds them to YN, laughs when she makes a face at the amount of chives mixed in.

It’s like he doesn’t even noticed the casual arm he occasionally throws around the back of YN’s seat as they chat.

“Harry,” YN scolds with a small smile when he steals a shrimp from her plate when she’s not looking.

Anna had shrimp too and he didn’t look once to do that to her.

“S’good, here, have a bite of m’steak. Know Y’don’t like it rare but s’good. I promise,” He encourages, cutting her a thick piece.

How the fuck did Harry know how YN liked her steak?

He didn’t even remember Anna’s favorite color.

“Y’gettin’ sleepy?” Harry whispers to YN towards the end of the meal, his lips are nearly brushing her ear and Anna pinches his thigh hard.

“Fuck,” Harry replies, flinching away from the pain as he turns to his girlfriend, “Wha’ did you do that for?”

“Can you pay at least a little bit of attention to me? I’m your girlfriend despite how much YN wants to pretend she is,” Anna says haughtily, loud enough for her to hear.

Harry is about to snap on her but instead YN speaks up first, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know jealously was on the menu. Eat up, Anna.”

Anna begins to sneer but Harry says, “Why don’t you go take a second in the bathroom? Then we can talk, okay?”

With a little stubbornness, she does - stomping away from the table without looking back at YN who had rolled her eyes.

“Y’on my menu tonight? A bath and cuddle sounds nice,” He offers to his love, thumbing her upper thigh.

“So nice,” YN agrees, “Can we use that sugar cookie bath bomb?”

“Of course, anythin’ you want, m’pup,” Harry hums sweetly, kissing the top of her head.

Anna is walking back when she sees it.

He’s cheating on me.

It flashes through her mind but she pushes it away because she reminds herself that YN is a pathetic little clingy girl who Harry wouldn’t ever like that way.

—

Later that night, Harry holds YN as she recount her memory.

Praises her for being so strong.

Kisses her because he loves her so much it hurts most days.

Assures her that he’ll love her even if she’s never ‘fixed’.

Promises that he’ll never let anyone hurt her again.

—

I’d love feedback 🥺

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[the-iceni-bitch]

I Long to Be

Pairing: Mr Freezy x hit woman!reader (kitten), Officer Bill x hit woman!reader (PG only for now)

Words: ~2.1k

Summary: Your new dynamic has Bobby ready to explode.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (fingering, over the pants hand job, dry humping, mentions of oral and penetrative sex), emotional manipulation, reader is a massive bitch, slightly subby Bobby (what?!?!), cheating adjacent, domestic violence as foreplay, inappropriate behavior at a funeral, gossipy neighbors, SMUT!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: This is mostly just setting the stage for the next arc I’m gonna do with our murderers but whoo boy are you sluts in for a treat! Sorry for inflicting the stache on you, but I’m just gonna lean into it.

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!!!

You moaned softly when Bobby pulled you back against his chest, the hand that wasn’t digging into your tit buried knuckle deep in your cunt from behind as he stroked your walls slowly.

“No marks.” You ordered when you felt his teeth scrape over your pulse, ignoring the snarl he shot you through the mirror before settling for licking a thick stripe up the side of your neck. “Don’t fucking pout at me, pretty sure even those dumb fucks out there would notice if I walked out there with a hickey. Control yourself.”

“You need to quit being a fucking bitch.” He growled when you squeezed his cock before starting to stroke it through his slacks again. “It’s been five days, if I don’t feel that warm snatch wrapped around me soon, I’m gonna fucking kill someone.”

“Then you’ll just have to wait even longer, Bobby. I told you, we’re gonna drill some fucking self control into you.” You rolled your hips into his hand when his palm ground into your clit, dropping your head back against his shoulder and purring when you felt his cock throbbing under your palm. “Plus, I’m still pissed at you for the unbelievable pile of bull shit I had to dig you out of.”

“But… fuck, kitten.” He buried his face in your hair to cover his groan when you squeezed him again, bucking his hips into your grip and tugging softly at your nipple as you brought him towards his peak. “I fucking need it. You can just suck on the tip a little, just tide me over, I’m fucking dying.”

“You’re fucking dramatic, I’m still letting you come, so quit being a bitch.” You felt warmth bloom under your hand and smirked at him, your pussy sucking on his fingers as he started fucking them into you harder until you came with a broken sob.

“You goddamn cunt.” He looked furious when you pulled away from him, growling when you wrenched out of his grip to straighten your dress out. “I swear to god, you keep fucking holding out on me and I’m gonna split you in half in front of those cunts until you’re bleeding and begging me to stop.”

“No you’re not.” You shoved your tits back into your dress and did up the buttons. “You’re gonna play the grieving husband and father for as long as I tell you, and once I feel like the fucking heat has died down enough, maybe then you can get your dick wet. But until that happens, you’ll just have to settle for hands and dry humping. Now shut up and try to look wrecked.”

He didn’t have to try, he was wrecked. Dealing with your constant teasing without being able to actually fuck you had him feeling like his nerves were frayed to the limit, and topping that off with having to play the tormented widower was testing the self control you were adamant he exercise. There hadn’t even been any jobs for him to redirect his pent up rage, so he was stuck settling for furiously jerking himself every night as he longed for your perfect, warm cunt.

You gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before opening the door and heading back out to the wake, not bothering to fix your face as it fit the narrative that Bobby had been comforting you while you cried yourself out. With how haggard he was, your stupid cunt neighbors had no problem accepting when you told them that you and Bobby had been supporting each other through this tough time. 

Bobby’s jaw was clenched tight as he stood at the edge of his living room, barely paying attention to the twats who kept coming up to him to tell him how sorry they were for his loss while he watched you act like the perfect grieving friend. You shot him a glare when he tried to move closer to you, hiding your smirk behind your drink and leaning against the wall when he accepted another unwanted embrace like a good little widower.

“Hi, Suzy?” You had to act quick to school your face when you turned and found the fucking cop who had flirted with you at the damn crime scene standing there, you had not expected to see him again.

“Officer Bill!” You caught Bobby start out of the corner of your eye, shooting him a glance to settle him before turning back to your surprising visitor. “Robert’s just over there, did you need to talk to him about something? I thought everything was closed.”

“It is, and please just call me Bill.” He gave you a nervous smile and stepped a little closer to you, fidgeting with his hands as he struggled with what to say to you. “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you and I know these things tend to put all the focus on the family but I wanted to make sure you were ok? Since she was your best friend, I’m sure things are hard.”

Oh shit. Your flirting had worked a little too well, this boy was sweet on you. It took some doing for you to fight the pleased smile that tried to spread across your face, especially when you caught Bobby glaring at you over the cop’s shoulder when the man reached and gave your arm a reassuring squeeze. 

“It’s been so hard.” You gave a small sob and could have laughed when he drew you into his chest, burying your face in the warm planes of muscle as he did his best to comfort you. “I feel so alone now. I’d usually talk to Mary about this, but now I have no one. Maybe I could talk to Robert but he’s suffering so much worse than me, I don’t want to burden him any more.”

“God, you’re so sweet, honey.” You managed to disguise your snort as another sob, pressing your body close to his and trying not to grin when he settled his hands at the small of your back, “You can talk to me, Suzy.”

“Bill, you just met me.” This was working out great for you; a dumb cop who was already wrapped around your finger and a new way to piss off Bobby, what could be better? “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Baby, no, never.” He gave you a soft smile when you lifted your head to meet his gaze, cupping your face in one massive palm and gently brushing his thumb over the curve of your cheek in an effort to soothe you. “I just wanna help, but we don’t have to do anything you don’t want, ok?”

“Okay.” You leaned into his cheek and sighed softly as you batted your eyelashes at him, it had been a while since you had played this game, but seems like you were still a fucking pro. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure, darlin’.” You let him give your waist a squeeze before stepping back, your eyes finding Bobby’s and narrowing at the look of unbridled rage you found there until he was cowed. “There’s a little bakery near here if you wanna have some privacy.”

He nodded towards the gaggle of housewives that was watching you with interest while the rest of your neighbors started filtering home and you sighed, accepting his hand and letting him lead you towards the front door while you gave Bobby one more warning glance to keep him from doing something stupid. As soon as the door closed behind you the busybodies went crazy, whisper shouting at each other as they tried to keep some semblance of decorum while they packed up all the leftovers and helped Bobby clean up, or rather, did all the cleaning while Bobby started downing scorch like it was his job.

Thirty minutes later and he was finally alone, exhausted from all the unwanted hugs and sympathies he had to endure and wanting nothing more than to lose himself in you. But he couldn’t because you were still out with that fucking cop. He sulked in the chair at the front window, watching your house as he slowly drained the bottle of scotch and tried to keep himself from imagining what you might be doing with that fucker.

By the time the bastard’s car finally pulled up in front of your house an hour later, the bottle was empty, Bobby wallowing in a pool of self pity that he never would have admitted to and growling when he watched the officer help you out of the car and lead you to your front door with an arm around your waist. When he watched him give you a peck on the cheek he almost lost it, dropping the bottle and cursing when he heard it smash against the floor. At least you didn’t invite him inside, sending him on his way with a little wave before strolling into your house without a second glance. 

Bobby waited a few minutes after the cocksucker pulled away before storming over to your place, barely keeping himself together until he was able to knock on your front door. 

“Hey there, Bobby.” You gave him a wicked grin when you opened the door, stepping aside and letting him in. 

“The fucking cop?” He was itching to slap you, or maybe choke you, he was absolutely furious.

“Bobby, Bobby, Bobby.” You shoved him a little and snorted when he stumbled slightly. “Drunk again. What the fuck am I gonna do with you?”

“Fuck me.” He was so drunk he didn’t even care anymore, grabbing you by the back of your neck and dragging your face to his until his lips were devouring yours.

“Jesus, did I fucking break you, Bobby?” You chuckled when he growled in response and shoved you against the wall, grinding his hardened cock into your hip as he tried to wrap his hands around your throat. “No fucking marks! God, still haven’t learned, have you?”

Your slap sent him reeling, the only thing that kept him upright being your tight grip on his collar as you watched him with mock concern. He tried to snarl at you when you gripped his jaw in one hand, shaking his head with a demeaning tut before leaning forward to bite at his lips.

“You need to dump that fucking cop, kitten.” He purred into your mouth when you wound one leg around his hip and dragged him into you, letting him rock against you slowly with a low moan as his dick twitched in his pants.

“And you still need to fucking control yourself, instead of charging over to your single neighbor’s house like a bat out of hell right after your wife’s funeral when you know every fucking busybody in the neighborhood is gonna be watching us like a bunch of hawks.” You let him lift your other leg to wrap around him, pressing you into the wall and moaning into your neck as he ground right against your clit. “I’ll make you a deal Bobby; you manage to keep that temper of yours reined in and the neighbors off our backs for a whole month while I make that sweet, dumb cop fall in love with me, and I’ll let you do whatever he does to me, so you don’t combust.”

“You’re such a bitch.” His breath against your neck was desperate, the rhythm of his hips writhing against you growing frantic as you both neared your ends. “You let him fuck you and I don’t care, kitten, I’ll fucking kill him.”

“Aww, don’t worry baby, it’ll just be the tip.” You laughed when he snarled into your throat, forcing himself to pull back before he sank his teeth into you so you didn’t decide to torture him even more. “Look at you being so good, and I didn’t even mention your reward.”

“What is it?” Christ, you were just whipping men left and right today.

“Once I get that moron to give me his whole heart, I’ll let you help me break it.” He hit you at the perfect angle and you shuddered with bliss, your release soaking the front of his slacks as his own filled his briefs. “But in a way that keeps him wrapped around my little finger so we can use him if we need to.”

“Ugh, fuck. Fine.” He sighed defeatedly into your neck. “But if I haven’t had my dick sucked once by this time in two weeks, I’m getting a fucking toy.”

[multiplefandomsblog]

request; I am lusting for the emo boy 👉👈 Could I get something where the reader gives him a bj after he had a stressful day

warnings; bj, deep-throating, cussing, cum-eating, shuichi is receiving, reader is gender-neutral.

note; im trying to think of a song to go with this hold up- (yes thats all i have for my note, im running out of things to say-)

OH SHIT YES!!! SANGRIA?? BY EASY LIFE??? ARLO PARKS??? OR GET YOU BY DANIEL CAESER!!!!!

wc; 2k+

Slapping the screen of his work computer shut, the sudden and loud noise kept him awake for just a little longer. Shuichi brought both of his cold hands to his face, rubbing the eye bags that had formed as a result of his overworking and lack of sleep.

“God…” It took him everything he had to not yell into his slightly trembling hands. His fingers tangled themselves in his hair as he stood up from the chair that had made his backside ache, breathing out the pent-up stress he had cultivated throughout the… He checked his watch, drooping eyes barely able to read the hands of the miniature clock. 

—The twelve hours of sitting down, typing in and submitting in files, piled onto files regarding a tough case. He’d be lying if he wasn’t at least a little used to this shit work ethic. 

The first thought his mind allowed him to possess after draining his brain completely out of energy, had been, ‘S/o...-, I hope they didn’t forget to eat today.’ He hadn’t gotten the chance to monitor you, nor text or call you; his phone, to kick off the day, hadn’t charged properly the day before, leaving his phone with 3%. The moment he had tried to text you mid-way through his extended work period, his phone had given up on him, leaving him frustrated and worried. 

Sighing, he quickly packed up his things, ready to leave the suffocating, but honestly quite nicely designed office— to see you. He was so close to just falling asleep on the nice, cold surface of his computer, but the thought of you waking up to an empty bed had his heart, crumbling over something he hadn’t done yet. And hadn’t planned to do, either. 

Exiting the office, he called a taxi as he was too deprived of sleep to safely drive.

---------------------------------------------------------—

Hearing the door open, you immediately rushed to the front door, almost slipping on the waxy surface of the wood floor against your fuzzy socks. 

Pulling back, your eyes held a different emotion as you gazed into Shuichi’s tired but loving orbs; your eyes no longer contained the same soul-crushing worry for him. Instead, they had held a needy lust. Could you blame yourself? It had been twelve hours. Shuichi let out a quiet startled noise as you started dragging him to the couch, he did nothing but let you; too tired to ask what you were doing despite having the sneaking suspicion he already knew. No one can overlook a stare like that; you’d have to be blind to. 

Pushing him onto the couch with little effort, he watched with intrigued eyes as you got to your knees and sat in between his knees, your own gaze locking onto his as you lowered yourself to the point where you had to crane your neck to properly see his pretty, flushed face. 

Golden eyes flashed in need, small whines spilling from his trembling lips as he slightly parted his thighs for you to drag your fingers further up into. “You worked all day, Shuichi… C’mon, just a taste?” You looked up at him, doe eyes pleading and tongue swiping across your bottom lip entrancingly, as Shuichi’s golden eyes followed the glistening muscle. He could already imagine your tongue swirling around the tip of his— 

“A-a little… A little taste. Please.” Ten hours of neglect, and the craving for his musk only augmented with each agonizing second that passed by. His eyes widened at the sultry tone you equipped; had he really worked so long to the point you were on your knees for him? “I...”

Yes, yes he had. It had been twelve hours, and you were worried sick. Not only that, the poor boy looked so tense and stressed, it had given you the urge to just strap him to the bed and force him to sleep, and nothing else. Knowing him, he wouldn’t have allowed himself the proper amount of hours of sleep, and food he needed to stay alive.

A part of him didn’t want to take advantage of your state, but a part of him already knew you wouldn’t let up until you got what you wanted; it’s not like he detested the idea of getting sucked off. “O-okay.”

He let out a small gasp as he felt you suddenly play with the zipper of his pants, your fingers ‘accidentally’ brushing against the growing erection he hadn’t noticed he had. You watched him carefully, fighting the urge to laugh as he arched his back against the couch; you didn’t want to embarrass him, you simply wanted to help him de-stress. 

Deciding you’d focus more on him than your own sadistic desires, you quickly halted your teasing and zipped open his fly, wasting no time to reach down the waistband of his navy blue boxers and pin-striped pants, erupting a gasp from him as he hadn’t been expecting it to escalate so fast.

Gingerly, you pulled out the hardening cock that seemed to twitch in your hold, only causing you to smile at the cute reaction. Though Shuichi’s facial expression had been incomparable to his cock. You had barely down anything to him, and his whole entire face flushed red, a hand already clamped over his mouth that concealed the lip he had been chewing at so aggressively. 

Stroking your thumb over the pretty pink tip of his cock, you cooed at it, already finding yourself craning your neck down to kiss the tip of it, causing Shuichi to jolt up from the light but impactive pressure on the tip of his cock. He found himself getting more alert, differing from his previous state of mind where he had barely been able to register what had been happening at the door.

Tired, lolling eyes from earlier converted into wide, lustfully lidded golden eyes that bore into your own coloured irises. The only difference between the two pairs of eyes had been the soft domineering gaze you set upon the boy who seemed to be putty in your hands and mouth. 

Winking at him, you felt confidence grow in you as you heard him slightly whimper and wine through the futile coverage of his hand over his mouth, and so, with suave, you slid the eager cock into your mouth, tapping it over your lips and tongue before deciding to suck the entire thing in, in one go. The near-scream Shuichi emitted definitely helped you take the entirety of him inside your mouth. 

You let out a small hiccup as you felt him throbbing in your throat, eyes wide and nose deep in the base of his shaft as your lips had almost been able to kiss the base of his cock. Keyword; almost.

With tear-filled eyes, you moaned onto his cock that only seemed to fit in half of your mouth before you started gagging. The small choked gasps from your side seemed to be in earshot of Shuichi, as he reached down to check on you- his hand was caught mid-way as you took a deep breath through your nose and fit the rest of his length down your throat. At this point, tears had been falling down your face uncontrollably, and you had been too busy massaging the base of his cock and balls to try and wipe them off.

“S-S/o— Y-you shouldn’t- F-fuck, I’m already so close, please don’t stop…!” He whined in a broken voice, head spinning and eyes rolling to the back of his head as he practically heaved out pants against the couch behind him. You felt your own thighs tremble as you heard him lose character, cussing; something you didn’t know he’d ever do. It sounded foreign in his voice, but was it strange that you actually liked how it sounded?

Moans and pleas spilled out of his drooling mouth like a running faucet; he noticed it only seemed to egg you on, in which, he wasn’t sure he liked or feared. He was highly certain he wouldn’t be able to last long—the thought hit him like an 80-pound brick as you dragged your tongue on the sensitive underside of his cock. “Hhnn- Ah—!” He let out an embarrassingly high moan, though he didn’t seem to care enough to tend to the humiliation, as he had currently been occupying his mind with the fact you had been sucking him off and sucking him off good.

His neck and thighs twitched as he writhed, not able to hold back the urge to pull your hair as he felt like he was going to lose it if he didn’t. Reaching down quickly, he yanked your hair upwards, in a force that didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. It seems, even during moments like these he was always gentle with you. 

Rewarding him for the action, you hummed muffled praises he couldn’t hear, but could definitely feel the effect of it against his cock. Vibrations shot up from between his legs to up the trail of his spine, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his entire body. 

You felt his clammy hand that had kept hold of your hair, push you down onto his length roughly, causing you to stifle a surprised choke as you felt his tip hit the very back of your throat. “S-Shui—” You couldn’t even say half his name properly. 

With tears streaming down your face, you shut yourself up and took it, bobbing your head up and down faster—to which he rewarded you with shaky, blissful sobs. God, did you wish you could see his expression right now. 

At the thought, your slightly red eyes darted up to his face, which seemed to be staring right back at you with his own tear-brimmed gaze. “S-S/o...!” He whined out, a few stray tears falling as he felt his climax approach him. Throwing his head back, you lost sight of his flushed, slobbering face as he rested the back of his neck against the couch. 

“Close..! Close! Hah- Hnngg! Please, I need to- to—!” Shuichi cut himself off, mouth contorting into an ‘O’ shape as he tensed his thighs underneath your clawed grip, feeling his well-deserved orgasm finally hit him. You suctioned your mouth around his length especially hard, eyes squeezing shut as you felt him pulsating against the walls of your sore throat.

You could feel the milky white, nearly translucent cum shoot down your throat and, as you usually do, you let it slip down your throat with no complaints—and it wasn’t as if you could try spitting it out; Shuichi’s cock had been so far down your throat, he had been practically been shooting it directly down your throat, giving you no chance to swallow. 

You felt his cock shudder, twitch and go flaccid in your mouth; so with a final drag of your lips, you trapped any leftover semen within the insides of your lips and licked whatever had escaped the bindings of your aching mouth. Shuichi remained heaving against the couch, his hand that had previously been holding onto your hair with a death-grip, weakened and dropped to the side of your face.

Bringing his head back down from the thrown back position on the couch, he stared down at you who had still been seated between his legs, your cheek resting against his thigh as you watched him with a soft and infatuated gaze. After such a feat, to look at him like that; he felt like he was on cloud 9. He truly wondered what he had done to deserve a blow job like that, and someone like you to give him such a thing after neglecting you for twelve hours, he felt terrible for you yet also fortunate to have you. His gaze, despite still fucked-out and slightly mind-blown, held worry for you. 

With his already red face going even more crimson, he brought his hand down to the side of your head to stroke your face tenderly. Still heaving out pants, he stuttered out quiet words of gratification, “... T-thank you. For that.” To which you only grinned cheekily at, head turning to gently nibble and kiss at the inside of his thigh, causing a small yelp to erupt from him. 

Your hand gripped onto his thigh, making sure to immobilize him and his squirming as you sucked a hickey onto his thigh. “Hh-!” Shuichi could only whimper at the pressure, his free hand going up to wipe away the tears that formed from earlier, and the ones that had been forming currently. 

[obsessive-ego]

Late night chats

Musical beetlejuice x reader

Beej chats with you when he knows you're not listening

Fluff, pining

It was a long rough week, you were absolutely exhausted, you could barely stand, your knees wobbled as you finally arrived home, everyday this week has been hell between work using you to cover everyone and do everything, and personal family drama you had to attend too, you were glad to finally be home, safe, quiet, where nothing was expected of you, you could finally recharge.

Kicking your shoes off and tossing your bag and jacket aside to deal with later.

As you shamble to your bedroom, eager to swap your work clothes to something less constricting, you tap away on your phone, ordering dinner, you were too tired to cook anyway.

In your bedroom, you were quick to ditch your uniform in replacement for an over sized shirt and a pair of pajama pants.

Removing your bra felt like a weight has been lifted, as you slip on your pajamas you felt 100 pounds lighter, you flop down on your bed, barely clinging to being awake, as you were about to doze off, your phone blares to life with its loud ringtone, you groan in frustration, you force your body to get up and dig for your phone in your pants pocket, you miss the call by a second, before you could check who it was it buzzes again, you nearly drop the phone, startled, you fumble with the gadget, quickly answering the call, assuming it was your incompetent coworkers needing a question asked.

"What are you wearing?~"

You frown, knowing that voice anywhere

"Beetlejuice-"

"Oh baby, you will be wearing me by the time I'm done with you~" he moans

You scowl at this joke, too tired to really deal with his sense of humor, yes the ghoul could easily make you laugh with their lewd jokes, but honestly you were so tired nothing else really mattered.

"What-"

"So we gonna hook up? Or are you standing me up?"

"What?"

"Y/n what day is it?"

You're silent for longer then youd like to admit, beetlejuice starts before you could respond

"Friday, movie night, so, let's hear that magic b word sweetheart~" he chimes in a sing song tone.

As tired as you were, I guess a chill movie night would be fine, if you doze off during you could survive the teasing, wouldnt be the first time.

"Hello? Sugar? I'm not hearing my name come from that pretty little mouth of yours~"

You snap back, guess you zoned out longer then you thought, you utter a quick sorry, and shuffle to the living room.

"Beetlejuice, beetlejuice, beetlejuice"

Your apartment goes dark, you sigh, the ghoul had a thing for making an entrance

"HONEY IM HOME" the ghoul shouts, within seconds you are hoisted up from behind in a tight bear hug, Beetlejuice's head resting on you shoulder "babes I missed ya, you're such a mean little thing forgetting about our movie night, or were you just playing hard to get~" he purrs that last part.

Clearly embarrassed you try your best to squirm out of your predicament, the demon only cackles at your actions

"Keep wiggling like that sugar and your gonna give me a-"

The ghoul was interrupted by a knocking at your door, his eyes light up, before you could get a word in, you are dragged along to the front door

"Its showtime"

...

It was amazing how you were still able to order take out with all the nonsense beetlejuice did to the delivery guys, but it just goes to show that it's all about money, and let's be honest, nobody is gonna believe them, yeah sure, a zombie looking guy took the pizza and then turned into a pile of snakes.

...

Movie night was the same as always, Beej successfully snuggling up close with an arm around your shoulder, ever since the change of seasons he found you no longer took the lead on getting up close and personal, meaning he had to take initiative, not that he minded, since regardless of the temperature, you didnt mind him cuddling up, which was nice, you were so warm to the touch, he adored it.

Movie night was always a blast with the demon, yes you've seen this horror films 100 times, but watching them with Beej always made them more lively, his enthusiasm was so contagious. But as much fun as the evening together was you were officially out of energy, you tired in vain to keep awake, last movie night you dozed off midway through you delt with merciless teasing for a week, but all your effort was for not as you felt yourself slip into dreamland.

"Alright Doll what's up next in our-" the demon finally noticed you were out, he frowns, yeah it was cute, and sexy when you fell asleep on him, but it was really becoming kind of a pain on how hard you worked and how much it drained you, breathers are delicate, and besides he wanted to spend some real legit alone time with you.

The demon snaps his fingers and the two of you reappear in your bedroom, you being tucked into your bed, beej floats up beside you in a lounging position.

The ghoul stares at you, watching you naturally settle into a deep sleep, once a few moments have past and beetlejuice was sure you were out cold, he leans back placing his hands behind his head and let's out a deep sigh.

"Ya know doll, the other week I was in the netherworld for business, bumped into an old pal, buddy was going on and on about this demon he was banging, and boy, the look on his face when I told him I was banging a hot little breather, man, fucker was jealous, I mean we arent technically banging, yet." He whispered

This was a habit of Bj's chatting to you when you were asleep, he didnt need to sleep, so this was a nice way to pass the time.

"I showed him that photo of us lyds took, ya know the one, you were sitting on the couch playing with you phone and I had my head on your lap? Yeah, I keep it in my wallet, hell, it's the only thing in there" he snickers

You mumble something unintelligible, Beej hums in response

"Of course not sugar, I dont keep condoms in there, i prefer to go raw, demons cant get breathers pregnant anyways, wink wink"

The ghoul sighs reclining back and putting his hands behind his head

"Ya know, while I was down there, I had to file some paperwork with my Mom, the bitch she is, was going on and on about how I need to stop screwing around with breathers, she just doesnt get me, you know how it is"

You grumble in response

"Oh, yeah I know I told ya a sandworm ate her, shes back, it's a long story" he huffs with a scowl.

"Yeah she was saying how theres no point of me tricking another breather for a green card to live again, and I should leave you alone, fuck her, ya know, I dont need to trick ya for a green card, i know you're head over heels for me babes, and once you finally admit you love me and we fuck around for a bit, then I'll pop the question." He trails off looking in your direction, your were laying on your side facing the demon, as if you were awake listening to his every word, the demon sighs, staring at you sleeping form, god slash satan  he had no idea what he did to deserve you, his sweet caring breather. He could always come back to you, you were all his, you just didnt know it yet, and that was fine, for now, soon he'll get you to confess your undying love.

"What would I do without our little chats" he sighs, his eyes fixated on you, a purple hue begins to creep into his hair, he sighs again

"The only time I can be honest with ya huh babes?"

You mumble in response

"Its not like I dont WANT to be honest with ya, its just, come on, you gonna believe me? A demon from hell falling head over heels for a sweet little breather? I can barely believe it" he stares at you, his hair now completely purple.

"You know I love ya right?" The confidence in his voice fading, the question sounding more desperate then anything, as if the ghoul needed you to know or hed die again.

"...beee" you sigh

Beetlejuice perks up at the sound of your voice "bee?" Were you dreaming of him? The ghoul could just melt at the thought

"...beetlejuice"

You were

The purple in the demon's hair began to mix with hints of pink, his little breather was dreaming of him, the ghoul leans into you, his face inches from yours, studying your face in hopes to crack the mystery of what kind of dream you were having

"...beetlejuice" Again you mumble his name in your sleep

"Do you dream about me often babes? Ya know I dream of you~" he chuckles

"Beetle-"

Before you could finish the b word the demon shakes you awake

"Fuck" you say with a start "beetlejuice what are you doing" you grumble less then thrilled to be woken like this

"You were about to say the b word 3 times babes, had to put a stop to it" he chuckles sheepishly "you were babbling my name away in your sleep, guess you missed me huh?" His nervousness turned into a more confident jab

"I was? I-" you babble

"If you REALLY miss me baby cakes I could slip into bed with ya? Keep ya company" he leans in inches from your face, a moment passes and beetlejuice can see the hesitation in your face, yes he's snuck into bed with you multiple times, but he always left before you noticed.

"I wont do anything creepy" he begs grasping your hand as if to reassure you

"....okay" you whisper

The ghoul's eyes light up at your response in a flash he sheds his suit, leaving only a pair of boxers and slides under the covers next to you, the ghoul is over come by the warmth beneath the covers, and quickly latches on to your even warmer body.

"Good night Bee" you sigh "I'll try not to say your name 3 times"

"Night sugar♡" he cuddles into your chest making you the bigger spoon, though you were the smaller out of the two of you.

As you drift back into a deep sleep beetlejuice begins talking to you again

"You really know how to spoil a guy huh sugar, I guess I can wait a little longer till you say the 3 little words, as long as ya keep treating me like this♡ good night y/n, I love you"

[earlgreydream]

exams.

| stucky x reader | fluff |

this was so self indulgent. I need Steve and Bucky to help me with my exams

You hit submit on your online exam, holding your breath. You’d been sitting in Steve’s office for hours, notes spread all over the desk in front you. Steve was on the couch on the other side of the room, reading from a book, and Bucky was out on a mission with Stark. 

“Fuck!” you gasped, seeing the 62% grade. Steve looked up, and your head dropped into your hands, tears sliding down your cheeks. You broke into sobs, seeing all of your time and effort wasted. 

“Y/N!” Steve walked over and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, coming to stand behind you. You choked on your cries, tears soaking your hands that were pressed to your face. Steve sighed when he looked at the screen, his lips pressing against the back of your head. 

“It’s okay, it’s one grade.”

“It’s not! It’s everything! I’m working so hard and I just keep failing!” you wept, and Steve spun your chair around and turned you into his body. His hand went to the back of your head, cradling you gently as you sobbed into his chest.

“Y/N, take a deep breath. There will be other exams. I know how hard you’ve been working. You need a break to recharge.”

“I can’t, I have a history exam at the end of this week-”

“Bucky and I will help you. Come on, you’ve been bent over the desk all day.”

“Steve, no-” you argued, trying to reopen your laptop as Steve closed it. He caught your wrists and pulled you away from the desk.

“You’re done.” Steve didn’t care that you were fighting him, you needed a break from your university work and you were getting it one way or another. You fought him but your strength was nothing compared to the super soldier serum, and you finally gave up and let him drag you out. 

“What are we doing?” you asked through weak sobs as you followed him through the Stark Tower penthouse. Loki looked up, and his brow knitted in concern. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, not wanting to tell the mischievous god that you were crying over a failed exam.

“You’re not-”

“Leave her be, Loki,” Steve scolded. 

You were sat down on the couch, and Loki and the others cleared out so you could be alone with your boyfriend. Steve set a generous bowl of ice cream in your hands, and you couldn’t stop the small laugh when you saw rainbow sprinkles on it. His blue eyes were wide and concerned, and he brushed tears from your face. 

Steve did his best to cheer you up and help you relax, but he was never able to comfort you like Bucky could. Steve would’ve given anything to have your boyfriend home, helping him comfort you. 

You’d spent nearly every waking hour working on your university work for months. When you weren’t bent over your computer in Steve’s office, you were doing research at the library, or you were in classrooms, trying to take notes on everything your professors said. You loved school, but you were exhausted and it was wearing on you. The workload was like a beating, and you were just ready to be finished. 

Steve and Bucky were always being sent on missions, and most of the time it was just you and Loki at the tower. He was no help to your studies, usually trying to convince you to just drop out-- you’d never really need a degree with the connections and money you had. 

You weren’t an avenger, but you lived comfortably in Stark Tower with the others. When you weren’t occupied with schools or spending time with your boyfriends when they were home, you were babysitting Loki or helping run intelligence with Stark. You’d decided to go back to school, but now, with exams and papers piling up, you were miserable.

“Hey, honey,” Steve pulled you onto his lap as you cried over your ice cream.

“Sorry, I just... I just feel like I spend all this effort and energy and time only to fall short.” 

“I know it feels that way, but you’re doing well. You have good grades and you are so smart. It’s always hardest at the end of the semester. You can do this Y/N, you’re almost there.” 

You tried to smile at Steve, but you couldn’t. He set the bowl aside and held you against his chest. Your arms went around his neck and you squeezed the soldier tightly. Tears soaked through his shirt, and he rubbed your back gently. He kissed your head and smoothed his hands up under your shirt.

“I’m sorry Bucky isn’t here-”

“Steve,” you sat up and held his face.

“I love you. Thank you for taking care of me.”

You kissed him, before laughing softly and apologized for your tears soaking everything. He shook his head and kissed you again, relieved to see you show some amusement. 

“Your ice cream is getting all melty,” he laughed, spooning some into your mouth and kissing it off of your lips. 

The two of you shared the half-melted ice cream, and you started to ache from the position you were in, straddling his lap. You climbed off of him, and started walking back toward the office.

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

“I should study-”

“Not a chance. No more working today.”

“Steve,” you sighed, sticking your lower lip out. You huffed and walked back to him, letting Steve pick you up like a bride. You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him carry you to your bedroom. 

Steve talked you into a hot shower with steamers that Bucky had brought back from some artisan soap shop in Russia where he’d gone on a mission and brought things back for you. He picked up your bedroom while he waited, putting in a takeout order from a place you liked uptown. 

You returned in spandex shorts and one of Steve’s flannels, rubbing your eyes. His hands went to your waist and he kissed your cheek, making you smile sleepily. You’d finally given in to how tired you were, the steam of the shower helping significantly. You were exhausted from stress and crying, and now you just wanted to curl up with Steve.

He walked back in with a bag of food, and you smiled, moving over in bed. He handed you a box of fried rice and you curled up against his side.

“What are we watching?” 

“Star Wars.”

Steve groaned and you gave him an offended look. He rolled his eyes, suggesting that maybe you could find something more entertaining. 

“If Bucky was here, he’d watch it with me...” you whispered, knowing it was a low blow. You didn’t mean it seriously, and Steve knew that, but he still felt a pang of guilt.

“Good thing I love Star Wars,” Steve hummed, moving you to lay back on his chest instead of under his arm. 

“I knew you’d come around,” you smiled. 

You were asleep before the movie was even over, and Steve slid out of bed carefully. He made sure the blankets were pulled over you, and you were curled up safely in the middle of the bed, not in danger of rolling off the edge without the usual boys on either side of you.

He left the movie on softly in case you woke up, but grabbed your empty takeout boxes and took them to toss away. He was headed back when the door opened, Bucky and Tony walking inside.

“Steve!” Bucky gasped, running to the blond. Steve hugged Bucky, kissing him for the first time in over a week.

“How was the mission?”

Steve listened to Bucky recount the details, explaining it was an overall success but he was exhausted and drained. Steel eyes searched the kitchen for you, but found nothing.

“Where’s Y/N?”

“Asleep. She failed her exam, and cried for hours. Y/N spends so much time with school and studying, and to see her so stress really worries me. And I’m not near as good as you at calming her down. She all but begged for you,” Steve explained, and Bucky’s eyes saddened.

“I hate that. It’s a lot for her, the stress. It shouldn’t be so hard. And don’t do that, Stevie. She adores you, and you know it.”

Bucky kissed him again briefly before going to find you. He smiled slightly at the familiar sight of The Last Jedi playing on the television in your room, knowing it was your favorite when you were anxious. He didn’t quite understand, but something about its familiarity soothed you.

Bucky sat down on the edge of the bed, causing you to stir out of your nap.

“Bucky?” You gasped when your eyes opened.

You lunged forward and threw your arms around his neck, wrapping yourself around his body tightly. He squeezed you and kissed your hair until you drew back. You grabbed his scruffy face and kissed your boyfriend, melting into him.

“Steve said you had a bad day,” Bucky finally spoke when you drew back for air. He brushed some hair from your face, and your eyes flitted to the blond behind him. You knew Steve would express his worry to Bucky, and you felt small under their concerned gazes.

“I failed one of my exams,” you admitted, your head hanging down. His lips pressed to your forehead, and he cradled you in his arms.

“It’s okay, my love. I know how hard you worked. So does Steve, and your professor knows too. We’re going to help you study so the next time it goes better, okay?” He tilted your chin up, making you look at him.

You nodded, consoled by the soldier.

“And I’ll help with your history exam. I know a lot about World War Two. I practically lived it,” Bucky joked, and you shook your head.

“Bucky, that’s not funny,” you bit back a laugh, and even Steve smiled.

“Thank you,” you relented, accepting a soft kiss. His hands rested on your waist under Steve’s massive flannel, rubbing small circles on your skin, the action soothing you.

“Did you manage to convince Steve to watch Star Wars with you?”

“Yes, but he whined.”

“Hey,” Steve began to defend himself, ready with the excuse that he did give in to watching the film with you.

“I’m just happy you’re home,” your voice was soft, and Bucky pulled you back into a hug.

“I’m so happy to be home with you.”

Bucky spent hours leaned over your notes with you, showing you flash cards and helping you study for your history final.

You kept apologizing, but he insisted that you were more than fine, and he was happy to help. Steve contributed when he could, though Bucky was much more patient with your academics.

However, Steve was the one who set a cup of coffee next to you as you sat to take your exam. With a reassuring kiss to your head, they left you alone to focus. You answered questions, referring to your notes when the answer didn’t come to mind immediately.

An hour and a half later, you breathed a huge sigh of relief when you saw the 97% flash across the screen. You closed your computer and went to find your boyfriends, to tell them about your success, and thank Bucky for the hours of tutoring he’d given you.

You found them reading in the library, and they both set their books down as soon as they heard your footsteps.

“How’d it go, doll?”

“I got a ninety-seven!” You shrieked excitedly, running to them and giggling and they wrapped their arms around you. Your cheeks were smothered with kisses and your delighted laughter healed the ache in their hearts caused by your stressed crying over your grades.

“So proud of our girl,” Steve praised you, and you squeezed them.

“Thank you! Thank you for helping me.”

“Always. And now, we get to have fun celebrating!”

“I’m a little bit exhausted. Can we celebrate in bed?” You asked hopefully, and a deviant smirk crossed Bucky’s face.

“Not like that, you pervert,” you giggled, swatting his hands away as he groped your butt through your thin shorts.

Steve wasn’t thrilled about your choice of celebration, but he would never deny you the simple happiness that binging the Star Wars prequels brought you. Bucky was more than excited to watch you get heated with Anakin, passionately declaring your love and loyalty to him, as you did every time you watched them.

“I don’t understand. He is the bad guy!” Steve complained.

“Shut up. He’s gorgeous. And he’s not even evil, he just wanted to save Padmé!”

“I could break him in half with my fingers,” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Probably not. Anakin has the force,” Bucky pointed out, and Steve shot him a glare.

You just laughed between them, eating from the large bowl of popcorn that was nestled in your lap. Steve didn’t mind half as much as he complained, and you knew that. Bucky engaged in all of your pro-dark side propaganda, enjoying the happy chatter that came along with watching your comfort movies.

They took care of you, thankful no more tears were being shed today over your classes.

[flayote]

has there ever been a skin thats frustrated you to hell and back?

OH BOY there have been several :’-)

this dog frustrated me into buying a $600+ fleshing machine. i mean, i had plans to buy one anyway and was saving up for it, but i wanted to save up a little more first so i wouldn’t be dropping all my money at once. that dog was torture though- trying to shave a skin that size with just a tiny little skife is just impossible, i mentioned in that post how i lost feeling in my finger for a few days after spending so long trying to shave it. even then i’d barely gotten anywhere. the skin was too thick to not thin it down though, it need to be at least half as thick as it was in order to tan properly. the only possible way to thin it enough was a fleshing machine, so i ended up draining my bank account and buying one a few months before i had really planned to

i thought having a fleshing machine would save me from all thick skin related frustrations, but then i encountered the vile, wicked, evil two-toed sloth... my GOD these were horrible. their neck skin is thicker than it has any right to be, it’s like half an inch thick, but that’s fine honestly, you can just slice it down like butter with the machine, easy. the issue they introduced me to is one i hadn’t yet considered: lack of elasticity in the skin. i had noticed some animals have stretchier skin than others, but i never imagined a species could have NO stretch to their skin AT ALL no matter how thin you get it. 

why would this be an issue though? well, what do you do to break/soften leather? you stretch it. but what happens when it...doesn’t stretch? you must destroy your wrists and hands crumpling it like a piece of paper over and over for hours, essentially manually doing what those huge 8ft tall tumblers that tanneries use do. those sloths were so damn difficult to soften, no matter how hard i tried or how much oiled them they still came out pretty stiff. the trouble didn’t end there either. 

their neck skin was still decently thick even after going as thin as i could before i’d cut into the hair follicles, and sloth necks have a pretty small diameter. thick, stiff leather + small diameter = impossible to flip the damn thing right-side out after the leather is dry. the first one i did took HOURS slowly trying to flip the head through the neck hole. it’s such a weird problem idk if what i’m describing makes sense it but it was absolutely infuriating. (technically i could have easily made a relief cut in the neck and saved myself a ton a trouble but i was extremely determined not to do that i guess lol. it was less of an issue after i did a couple more sloths and got better at softening them, but still took a lot of effort flipping them)

everything else is a piece of cake in comparison to the sloths but i also thought of this terrible jerky badger. i spent hours trying to shave that horrible grease burned slab of gristle in multiple different attempts over a couple years and got nowhere, then tried again when i got a shaving machine. but sadly i got a little overconfident after doing a good job on the neck (the thickest part), and ended up destroying the body where the skin was thinner. i’m sad i don’t have a nice pelt to show for all the time and effort i put into that badger, but you have to sacrifice one or two pelts to the machine to earn its favor unfortunately 

[your-highnessmarvel]

From Bleak to Bright - Part Ten

All other parts on on my masterlist, link provided below.

AN: omg this chapter is so sad!!!

Warnings: angst, language

MASTERLIST - SERIES MASTERLIST

PART TEN

You cried so much that you forgot what it felt like to not have your breath caught in your throat, or tears in your eyes, wetness on your cheeks. Even if you’d barely spent a week with Loki, when he left you there, without even trying to get to you, the bond inside of you screamed. It’s even worse than when you couldn’t see him, when Natasha and Bruce were trying to get you to stay away. Now that’d you’d had a taste, you just wanted more, and the bond that had been a knot in your belly now felt like burning fire.

Thor took you in his arms and brought you back to a jet, but both the wound on your head and the one in your heart kept you from having any conscience of it. You were crying so hard it hurt, your stomach clenching, breaths hiccupping out of your lungs, eyes swollen.  

The last thing you remembered before they put you under, pressing a mask to your face, was the wretched sobs coming from your throat.

Your dreams were nothing but black. It was like floating in space, with no stars, with no air, and the suffocation of the dream left you even more anguished than Loki’s departure.

Why hadn’t he tried? Why hadn’t he at least tried to take you with him, instead of looking at you with those eyes, his mouth parted?

You’d remember that look until the day you died.

Death was more peaceful than this.

When you woke up, Bruce was all over you, acting like the mommy you both never had. He was in your recovering room 24/7, bringing you everything you ever wanted. And when they moved you out of the recovery room and back at the Avenger’s compound, Bruce was still on your heels like a leech. 

Nat kept her eyes on you every time you passed by the door, as if you’d pounce right back out there if she dared to leave you alone.

Steve kept giving you speeches about good and evil, how Loki’s bond with you did not mean what he did was right. 

Tony dropped by once in a while, asking you questions on Loki, but all you knew was what you’d seen while at the loft, and revisiting those memories made you want to scratch your eyes out.

When you stopped talking, just shut down, they brought in a therapist. But even she couldn’t make you talk. All that anger was the only thing that made you remember him. And the bond desperately wanted you to remember him. Every single moment spent away from Loki, the bond called to him. It gave you stupid ideas to reach out somehow, to runaway, to seek out a way to get back to him. 

But you couldn’t leave. Ever. The Avenger’s compound was on lock down, and you could not be left alone in it, ever. It was your own personalized prison. 

You wished so desperately, but so quietly, that Loki would come for you. That he’d bring an army and get you back. 

But the news you overhead - because they didn’t allow you to know anything about Loki’s whereabouts - suggested Loki couldn’t give more of a fuck about you. He’d terrorized more people across the Earth, all intent on “taking over the world” or whatever. 

“He’s got Selvig,” you heard Thor telling Nat. You were lying on the couch and they didn’t know you were there as they prepared lunch. “He’s going to open a portal and bring the Chitauri army here.”

“If he does that,” Nat said with a hiss, “then it’s going to get far worse than it already is.”

You knew what she meant by that. The Avengers already had to take care of you - Loki’s soulmate - and adding an alien war to the pile was not going to facilitate their game.

And if Loki wasn’t coming for you, you wouldn’t make any effort to get back to him. 

*** Eighteen days later, Three hours before the attack on New York ***

You didn’t like the movie. Nat had chosen it as the boys had taken over the gym to have “a boys workout” as they called it. 

Nat had been careful in avoiding any romance movies, and had picked an action packed, hot boy movie with no story line and a lot of explosions. The main character was good-looking enough to distract you from the actual plot, and the fact that you did not have a phone - actually, not allowed - made you even more concentrated on the character. 

It wasn’t long before the boys came back out, smelling like sweat and rubber. Lately, they’d all been hitting the gym often since Loki’s army was waiting to invade. Tony insisted on a seven-day a week training until they’d either caught Loki or killed him.

You swallowed the lump in your throat at the image of a dead Loki in your head. Thor’s presence didn’t really help either. He kept mentioning his brother as if you weren’t even there. 

“You okay?” Bruce asked, tapping your knee as he took a seat beside you.

You wrinkled your nose. “Ew, Bruce, you smell so gross,” you whined, pinching your nose. 

He smiled, the perpetual look of caution on his face he wore only around you dropping and softening his features. 

“Come on,” he drawled, “it’s not that bad!”

But before you could answer, Tony’s cell rang. Everyone went deadly silent. You could feel the blood draining from your face as Tony brought the device up to his ear, his face severe.

Your fingers curled into fists. Your blood ran cold, colder than you’d ever felt as you watched Tony’s face tighten. 

The first thought to enter your mind was Loki’s wellbeing. 

Please tell me he’s fine.

Tony hummed and hung up. “Suit up,” he said, his tone deadly, “Loki’s opened up the portal. They’re dropping armed Chitauri in the streets.”

The entire living room activated, as if everyone around you had just been waiting for Tony to give the heads up. Nat launched off the couch, running upstairs to get her suit, followed my Steve and Clint - which yes, they’d manage to save between all this time.

Tony turned into the kitchen, mumbling to JARVIS.

Only Thor and your brother remained in the living room, hard like statues, their eyes emotionless.

“Who’s gonna babysit, huh?” you mumbled, but your words felt like ash on your tongue. 

“I wager I should stay,” the God of Thunder said, pointing to you. “After all, my brother will attempt to get her out of here before he obliterates the planet.”

The soulmate bond would not let him leave you here to die.

Bruce shook his head, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. “She’s my sister,” he said. “And you’re more needed than me on the battlefield.”

You frowned, anger and heat crawling up your chest like sour vines. “Bruce, if he gets here and you’re the one standing between him and me, he will go through you,” you argued, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I can take him,” Bruce shot back. “And Thor will man the streets with the rest of the team. No one is going to take this planet and no one is going to take my sister! And until Loki is either dead or locked up until the end of your days, I will never allow you out of my sight!”

Thor knew better than to stay. He vanished from the living room even before Bruce had uttered the last words, either because of the look on your face or the privacy you and your brother needed.

Bruce had stood, towering over you, his face stricken with a mix of anger and annoyance, and you looked up at him from under your brows, heaving, feeling betrayal course through your veins. 

“Bruce,” you muttered, trying to keep a lid on your anger. “I’m a grown woman. I don’t need my fucking brother looking after me forever.”

Bruce’s lip twitched. “That’s what you made us all think,” he seethed. “That’s what we thought. That we could trust you. And then you literally betrayed us and went to him with arms wide open.”

“He’s my soulmate, Bruce!”

“I don’t care!” At this point, your brother didn’t care that he was screaming and that Tony could hear him in the kitchen. “You’re a threat to yourself.”

“He wouldn’t hurt me,” you gritted from clenched teeth.

Bruce’s eyebrows shot up. “I told you the bond is different for men,” he said. “He doesn’t care about love or passion or whatever he made you think! It’s about possession, owning what is meant to be his! And with Loki, there is no possible way the bond could be -”

“You don’t know that!” Now it was your turn to stand, facing your brother like you’d done so many times as kids, but this time, it was for something a little more severe. “You say all that shit about the bond for men but you don’t even know yours! You stopped yourself from knowing her because of the shit you did to yourself!”

You regretted the words before they left your mouth, but anger had made you open up your lips and spill anything hateful that would deter your brother. And it did. It so fucking did. His face fell from that angered scrunch to something more tragic, tormented. 

Bruce had always counted on you to understand that the Hulk was not - absolutely not - Bruce. 

And there you’d been, accusing him of creating this monster he hated so much.

Bruce took a step back, his eyes falling to the ground. “If you leave this house, I will not hesitate to use force.” And then he plopped himself on the couch.

You looked up, seething, spotting Tony leaning against the door to the kitchen. He shrugged, jerking his head to the stairs, silently signaling that maybe you should retreat to your room.

Feeling like a child who hadn’t gotten what she wanted, you ran up to your room, crossing Steve in the hallway and not even bothering with wishing him luck. For all you cared at that moment, they could all burn.

You felt like your insides would fall out as you tumbled into your room, slamming and locking the door. You sat on the edge of the bed, holding a pillow to your belly, hoping the pressure would prevent your insides from spilling out.

What had you done? Why had you gone and said those things? The image of Bruce’s face falling, that look of utter bewilderment and betrayal passing across his features, haunted you. You rocked on the edge of your bed, feeling the tears brimming behind your eyes, an odd sort of pressure building in your head. 

You knew he was there before he even spoke. The air shifted, like a soft wind inside a glass jar, and the sound of fabric against fabric echoed in your otherwise dark room. 

“He’ll kill you,” you said, biting on the edge of the pillow to keep from sobbing.

“I am not really here,” he answered.

Relief and disappointment. They would not be able to hurt him if they caught him in here. He wouldn’t be able to actually touch you. 

“What do you want?” you uttered, still clutching the pillow, facing away from him.

“I can come and get you out of here,” he said, his voice calm, leveled.

You frowned. “You left me,” you whispered. “You fucking left me, Loki. You didn’t even try. And even if I wanted to go with you, my brother would rip you to pieces before you even set foot in here.”

You could sense Loki’s anger, rippling from him even in his illusion form. “You do not want to come with me?” His voice was rough, as if fighting to stay even. He was sad. 

You clenched your jaw so tight it hurt. “No.” Then you straightened. “No. Leave me alone. You’ve caused enough damage in under a month of being my soulmate. I don’t want to see you again. Now get the hell out of my room before my brother has me put in an actual cell.”

You never got an answer.

When you turned to see if he was still there, the air was empty, dark, silent, as if he’d never even been there to begin with.

DON’T WORRY! I KNOW WHERE THIS STORY IS GOING. I HAVE A PLAN ;)

tags:  @subtlemalice @yallgotkik @buckyandlokirunmylife @kaz11283 @legolas-bromance @shylittlemountain @tofeartheunknown @feelmyfckngsoul @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @caffiend-queen @tomhollandsslilslut @lady-loki-ren @nathan-no @rosaline-black @abundanceofcarolines @my-own-oracle @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @marvelouslovely @drbaureid @bored-as-hell-666 @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @theinfinitenerd @toe-vind-ek-jou @ink-and-starlight @blank-bakabane @sunshineonloki @holaamishamigos @palegoopbearlight @heyarely16 @pleaseexecuteme @athalahild @help-i-need-a-social-life @tapismyforte @coloursforyourportrait @celestialstarshadow @fukyouthink @lust-for-pan @thic-thor 

[oftenderweapons]

The Early Bird – Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x reader (nicknamed Candy)

Wordcount: 2.3k 

Genre: smut, pretty much pwp, drabble, established relationship

Rating: 18+

Hello hummingbirds! I just came in quickly to type in this very very brief Jungkook smutty drabble because after today’s pics well... Me and my mates (shoutout to @nervous-moon) were a bit all over the place. Not much plot. Just filth. 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: very smutty Jk. Filthy as hell. Lots of swearing. Dirty talking. Slight corruption kink. Post-workout testosterone galore. Degradation kink; dommy JK, very patronising. Lots of switching positions. Multiple orgasms. Unprotected sex (get tested before going bare with your partner. Pretty please). Very lowkey spanking. Lots of tattoo kinks. He touches between her legs without her consent (Candy is sleeping), but she *does* give him consent as soon as she wakes up. I understand some people could be triggered by this and I am sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. 

In case you need it, here is my masterlist. 

Enjoy💜✨

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Jeongguk exited his home gym and headed for the kitchen to grab a fresh bottle of water. Uncapping it quickly, he took a large mouthful, draining the bottle with a series of loud gulps. 

His early morning work out routine had several perks: the great peace of mind which helped him start a new day, the sense of focus that made his nerve endings jolt to life before he started his daily routine, and the pleasing idea of hitting the shower detoxifyed, after sweating sleep and the remnants of the previous day off himself.

It felt right to start the day with exercise. 

It felt a bit less right to wake up an hour earlier and abandon you in his bed, warm and cosy and so soft, smelling of his fabric softener and that sweet lotion that he liked so much. 

He took off his shirt on the way to the bedroom, dropping it off in the basket in the laundry room. Shirtless and sweaty, he reached the bedroom door, his mind already going places as his hand rubbed at his abs, climbing up to his chest. 

There you were, innocent in your sleeping form, curled up in a ball in the middle of the bed, the white sheets exposing your legs and your chest. 

You looked so pretty. So small. So pure and unprotected. You looked like a delicate lamb, napping in a soft cloud of perfect peacefulness. It looked like even in your sleep you were offering yourself to him. 

He felt ravenous. Predatorial.

He undressed quickly, feeling only slightly guilty as he stroked himself a couple times, his hand meeting his shaft already half hard, blood pressure spiking as he felt his own hand on his flesh. 

But it wouldn’t do. Because nothing could compare to the velvet of your cunt, the sweet, sticky wetness of your arousal coating your folds, like honey waiting to be tasted, licked, violated. You were there, laying gently, and he was at the feet of the bed, ready to pounce on you, already imagining the sweet little coos you would emit while waking up, his cock spearing you, your mouth parting in an ‘o’ as realisation hit you. 

Slowly and clumsily he climbed on the bed, crawling towards you on three limbs as one hand was still busy on his length. 

He hovered above you, bending at his elbow to lean his head against your breast, kissing any part of your chest that was uncovered by your arm, curled up against your front. 

Looking at your face, he gently moved his hand away from his sex, sliding it under the covers and brushing it against the curve of your bottom, sliding his middle finger between your folds, moaning at the wetness. 

“Sweetie.” He whispered against your ear. “Wake up, Candy.” He murmured with a soft voice. “I need my sweet girl.” He teased, his finger searching for your clit. 

Your body finally reacted, your eyelids fluttering open. “Gguk.” You whined, still sleepy. 

“Hello, sweet thing.” He said, smiling happily. 

You took in his damp hair, his lack of a shirt. “You back from the gym?” You asked, frowning as you yawned. 

“Yes, Candy.” He cooed, nuzzling his hair against your bosom as soon as you offered your chest to him.

“And why is your hand between my legs?” 

“Because I need my sweet girlfriend’s sweet pussy.” He growled, his mouth outright filthy in a way that normally wasn’t unless he felt like totally wrecking you.  

Grabbing his wrist, you removed his hand, turning on your back and trying to wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck. “Just use me.” You murmured, closing your eyes and kissing his bicep flexed beside our head, your mouth landing distractedly on one of his tattoos. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll think about it for you, baby.” With one arm he held his weight off you, while with the other, he untangled the bedsheets from your form, tugging them off and exposing your body in all of its perfect nakedness. Next his arm slithered under your back, lifting you off the mattress and helping you up as he rose on his knees, kneeling on the bed. 

Slowly, he made his way to the edge of the mattress, placing his ass down and unfolding his legs, letting his feet rest against the floor. He had seen this position on a video while he was away on tour but somehow it had slipped away, coming back to him earlier as he lifted some weights in the gym. 

You simpy laid your head on the crook of his neck, kissing his skin and enjoying the salty feel of his sweat on your lips. Your legs loosened around his waist as he settled in this new position. 

“I need you to listen carefully, Candy.” He growled at your ear. “I’m gonna do you rough, baby, but I know you’ve just woken up.”

You nodded distractedly beneath his ear, snuggling him. 

“I’ll be careful first, but next I need you to hold tight.” He kissed your temple and caressed your spine. “I’ll take care of you.” He promised. “I’ll take care of everything.” He murmured against your ear. “I need to slide in, ____.” He explained, gripping his shaft and rubbing it against your folds. 

“Do it.” You said sleepily, whimpering as he pushed the tip in, groaning.

“Feels good?” He asked, giving a delicate thrust in, his other hand against the small of your back, pushing you towards him as he slid in. 

“Very.” You murmured, letting your open mouth rest against his neck, your tongue slipping out and curling against his skin, tasting his sweat, searching for the little mole that always drove him crazy under the tip of your tongue. He was addictive.

“It was made for you, Candy.” He groaned with a chuckle. “It was made to make you whimper and moan like a little slut.” He sank deep into you, bottoming out. 

You simply exhaled at his neck. If he was already degrading you in that cocky, teasing way of his, then he was really needy. Good thing you were craving him too. 

His arms snaked under your legs, the crook of his elbows slotting against the bend of your knees while his hands settled on the small of your back, holding you as his biceps flexed and lifted you, making you slide off his cock. 

“Oh god.” You murmured at his neck, biting his skin to keep yourself from being too loud. 

“That good?” He asked. “Wait till I slam you down again.” He said, growling, his voice strained as he slowly, made you twirl on him, only the tip inside, rubbing against the tight rim of muscles at your entrance before he let you slide on him again, your hands finding the long locks of his hair at his nape and tugging them desperately as he reached the bottom of your cunt, flexing his strong thighs and glutes to give a few small thrusts before lifting you up again, this time keeping you midair as he bent his head, licking the shell of your ear. 

“You’re being too quiet. Need it faster? Harder?” He slid you down gently, using his hands to press your hips forward, against his, until he could feel every square inch of your inner muscles fighting between swallowing him in and pushing him out. “Did you get used to hard and fast?” He asked, sliding you up slowly again and grunting in effort as he bit your earlobe. “Or maybe you need me to fuck you like my bitch.” He slammed you down. Hard. 

You let your mouth hang open in a loud cry, your lungs empty. 

“That way, uh? Dirty pretty whore you are. Just for me.” He cried out, angling your body away from his, your head lifting from his shoulder and trying to stay upright as you looked into his dark pupils, your stare a bit lost and vacant as he started lifting you up and down like you weighted nothing, looking at you as your eyes crossed, mouth open, a series of short gasps making your lips part in smaller or larger ‘o’s. 

He was beautiful, almost painfully so. His brow was furrowed, his lower lip tucked between his teeth before it slid out, his jaw dropping as you squeezed his with your kegels and started helping him, riding his cock with small thrusts of your pelvis, as far as his arms allowed you in that caged position. “Need to ride my cock?” He asked with an arrogant smirk, his eyes rolling closed as you squeezed him particularly tight. 

“Yes.” You replied simply. 

“But I need to see your silly face as I fuck you stupid, just like this.” He objected, slowing down for a few thrusts, focusing on hitting your sweet spot. The spongy head of his cock rubbed against your G-spot repeatedly, making you call his name, stuttering it a couple times as your breath caught in your throat. “Like that.” You called, unwrapping an arm from his neck and bringing it between your legs, trying desperately to conjure your first high. 

“Come on. Give me that cockhungry little pout. Let me see your filthy mouth open wide for me.” He said, leaning down to suck your nipple into his mouth, pumping it a couple times with the tight sucking of his cheeks before releasing it. “I want your gorgeous tits blushing while you cum on my cock.” He growled against your other breast, taking the other nipple in his mouth before he started sliding you up and down his length like you were nothing but a fleshlight, using you for his pleasure. 

“Gguk. I—” Next, an inarticulate ramble left your lips, your body arching away from him with the perfect angle that trapped your clit between your expert fingers and the divine fullness of Jeongguk’s cock rubbing the inner nerve endings from inside. 

Your body didn’t stop shaking even as he started leaning down, his arms unhooking from below your legs and simply coming up to place his hands on your waist. 

“I’m not done with you, my sweet fuckdoll.” He looked you in the eye as his tattoed hand slapped your ass with a dry cracking sound. “Your velvet cunt hasn’t taken my cum yet.” And just like that, he started helping you ride him, the only thing saving you from overstimulation the lack of attention on your clit. 

“Gguk. Please.” You begged, not even sure for what. 

“What is it,” he grunted, both his hands grabbing your ass and helping it up before his palms slid up to your sides, grabbing you and slamming you down. 

“Need you on top.” You whined, trying to sweeten him. 

He smirked. “Lazy pillow princess, ain’t you?” He slapped your ass again, the stinging feeling making your lips part and your eyes water slightly. 

It felt all too good. “You do it better than me.” You praised him, definitely knowing how to get what you want. 

He nodded, eyebrows lifting. “I do.” He said, holding your front close to his chest and making you roll on your back, his body inviting you to slide forward, toward the middle of the bed, so that his legs could find purchase on the mattress and he could hammer into you just the way you like it. 

Once his body was perched on top of you, he helped one of your legs over his shoulder. “Hold on tight, love.” He teased before he slammed into you in one violent stroke. 

Your eyes shot open, a helpless cry tearing your lips open as you looked at him, tears rimming your eyelids. 

“Oh, what’s that?” He asked with a bastard’s grin on his face. “Is it so good that I’m gonna make you cry?” He slid out slowly, all the way to the tip, before his cock split you open again. “Go on and cry for it.” He sneered, his whole body getting lost into a hard and fast hammering inside you. 

“Gguk, dammit, please. I wanna cum.” You cried out, your hand sliding between your legs. 

He slowed down only to slap away your filthy fingers. “Gonna cum for this cock alone.” He said, angling his hips perfectly in that way that always drove you crazy. “Like the good slut you are for me.” He bent forward to your chest, biting the upper curve of your breast. “Make me feel your velvet cunt milk me dry.” He groaned, desperate. “I know you can do it, ____. You’re my little cockfairy.” He teased, so lost in the tightness and warmth of you that his tongue got that loose and reckless. 

You simply started meeting his thrusts, your brow furrowing, while you looked at the muscles of his shoulders flex, his biceps tightening and relaxing with the effort, and the beatiful ink covering his upper arm, so alive with the movements. 

He moved your other leg over his shoulder, sinking so deep inside you that your body snapped before you could even understand the fullness you were experimenting. 

Your ears filled with a shrill screech, his face going from a series of tight lines — creased forehead, scrunched nose and wrinkled eyes — to relaxed planes, with his mouth opened wide, his lips so soft and temptingly red, his eyelids slowly fluttering close. 

“Your pussy is a whole damn miracle.” He muttered against your soft breasts pillowing his head. “I wanna die inside it and go to pussy heaven.”

You tried to laugh as gently as possible while he rested on top of you, his cock still burrowed deep inside you. “I love you, silly bun.” You said, still a bit breathless.

“I’m sorry for the nasty words. You know I love you too.” He said, mouthing at your soft curves and sucking a bruise there. 

“Cockfairy, uh?” You said, teasingly. 

He giggled. “Shut up.” 

“Never.” You replied. combing his hair out of his face. 

He lifted his head with a raised eyebrow. “Then maybe I should feed you my cock and shut you up.”

Round two? Already? You were feeling spoiled. “Maybe you should.”

He grinned and slid out of you, slowly climbing up your body. “Open up, pretty doll.”    

[its-deputy-caleb]

would u possibly do some NSFW morbell? where they're up in colter ( i loved ur original morbell post on them ) pls do more as i love ur blog 💛

this is an absolute mess oml i literally have no idea how to write anything smutty but here we go i guess. I love this pair but i kinda went off topic and centred this on a praise kink for micah. ANYWAY this is probably terrible since i'm melting, its literally 40 degrees and the aircon is broken so its unedited af and i wont look at it again until i have a cold drink. but pls enjoy some morbell <333

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‘Cold up in Colter’

Fuck, what a mess Blackwater had been. The Pinkertons were on them faster than ever and they found themselves fleeing from a blood bath.

That was almost three days ago and Micah hadn’t had an ounce of sleep. He’d been sent out with John to scout ahead, having found a homestead which ended up burning at the hand of O’Driscoll’s. Okay maybe house burning down was his fault but he tends to make stupid decisions when he’s had little to know sleep. And it was so fucking cold.

That didn’t stop heat rising to his face when he felt Arthur’s hands on his shoulder, pushing him back with a roughness he could only wish for in another way. Damn Arthur Morgan and his ability to have Micah curling in on himself and blushing like a virgin at the mere thought of a hand on his shoulder.

He should hate Arthur, really the two are nothing more than rivals, competing for the spot of Dutch Van Der Linde’s right hand. At the beginning, almost six months ago now, Micah couldn’t stand the sight of the man but somehow that anger tapered off into something more akin to admiration and that admiration slowly turned to desire.

He’ll never admit to how badly he wants Arthur but he won’t deny however that he’s pushed the man’s buttons more than once just to have an interaction with him. All he had to do start a silly argument over camp earnings or a bet at five finger fillet to have the man shaking him by the collar and threatening to break his nose.

It almost always ended with Micah sneaking off into the woods with half a bottle of whiskey and his pants bunched around his ankles as he thought of the way Arthur roughed him up by his shirt collar. Fuck he was pathetic sometimes.

There were other occasions where the two had actually managed to get along and that’s what pissed Micah off more than any threats of violence. Arthur just had to go and bring him a beer as he grabbed one for himself, letting their fingers touch accidentally. Or he went and offered him a seat by the fireplace where they ended up much to close for his comfort. Damn Arthur for always leaving him short of breath with a hole in his heart.

Despite what Micah did to impress Dutch, Arthur was still the camp’s favourite by a mile and he never failed to outcompete him in the eyes of the gang. Micah never minded much, not looking for anyone’s approval, but the thought of proving himself to Arthur, of being worthy of his praise is enough to have his wild side reined in.

Naturally that didn’t stop Micah from losing it from time to time and wasn’t surprised when his jealousy shot up again as Miss Grimshaw announced Arthur got his own cabin while he shared with the rest of the fellers. And he’d be damned if he had to share a room with Williamson who didn’t stop snoring.

That’s why he found himself huddled in the makeshift stables, choosing instead to wrap himself in his coat and down a bottle of whiskey to wait the night out. He cold planks he was sitting on offered little comfort and the draft in the room had his lip shaking. But at least he wouldn’t have anyone in his hair and he’d be left alone, just the way he liked it.

Of course that didn’t last long when the cranky wooden door was barged open, spooking some of the horses in the opposite end of the room. A broad figure entered the room, blocking most of the door way but that didn’t stop to whoosh of cold air flood into the room, draining even more colour from his face.

It wasn’t until the door was closed and the man stepped closer when he realised it was Arthur.

“Micah? What the hell are you doing in here?”

Arthur sounded surprised, with only a hint of concern in his voice.

“Sleepin’— what the hell ya doing here Morgan?”

There wasn’t much of a response from Arthur, only a quiet noise which was barely heard over the whistle of the wind between the planks. He walked over to the horses, checking over them and ensuring none of them were freezing to death. Micah watched in silence, scared to disturb the man as he patted along Taima’s neck.

It wasn’t until after Arthur had checked over all the horses did he turn his attention to Micah.

Micah watched as Arthur’s gloved hand extended out and offered itself to him, he hesitated before taking before taking it and being pulled to his feet. Arthur’s hand draped over his shoulder which he didn’t realise had shaking in an effort to keep warm, having drunk the remaining whiskey from the bottle.

“Common now, yer gonna freeze in here alone.”

Micah dug his heels into the ground, not allowing Arthur to pull him any further to the door as he tried to hold his voice steady. He’d be damned if he ever let Arthur know just how much he affected him.

“I ain’t sharing a bunk with Williams—“

Arthur tutted, pulling Micah out the door as he pushed him towards his cabin in the snow storm.

“Quit yer yapping, you’re sharing with me and I ain’t having any more folk die tonight. Now let’s go.”

Arthur didn’t utter another word until they were well and truely in his room, wrapped in a blanket that was barely big enough for the two of them. The bed wasn’t much bigger, having been made for one person which was evident by Arthur pressing against Micah’s back in efforts for them to fit. The only thing that kept them apart was the fabric of their jackets, otherwise Arthur would probably hear Micah’s heartbeat which was beating much to fast for his liking.

The uncomfortable silence was broken when Micah cursed under his breath which caused his teeth to chatter and Arthur spoke up.

“Yer still cold, c'mere”

Micah’s breath fell short as Arthur’s hands slid under his coat, resting his hands on his tummy to use his body heat as a source of warmth. In doing so Arthur had moved even closer, ensuring Micah’s back was flush against his chest.

Despite that Micah wanted to protest, to go straight to his default of arguing he couldn’t help but feel as he began to warm up and he slowly relaxed under his hands.

A blush rose high on his cheeks as Arthur also relaxed into their embrace, accidentally letting his hands drift lower until he felt the hard press of Micah’s straining erection against his knuckle.

Micah instantly sucked in a breath, panicking and trying to push his way out of Arthur’s hold.

“Shit Arthur I—“

Micah froze as Arthur gently pulled him back to the bed and rubbed slow circles along his stomach.

“S’alright Micah, I’m not mad…”

Arthur held him close, letting him relax before talking again before he whispered right into the shell of his ear.

“…This what you want? Is this why you’re always staring at me from across camp, why yer always picking fights and asking me to robberies?”

A high pitched noise left Micah as he shivered, feeling Arthur’s hot breath against his ear. His blush deepened as he pushed back slightly into him, whimpering at the feel of Arthur’s own erection pressed against his ass.

Fuck it, he thought as heat pooled in his abdomen and he finally allowed himself to have the one thing he’d been craving for months. He nodded frantically, grinding back onto Arthur’s clothed dick and squirming in his grip.

“Relax boy, gonna give you everything you’ve been waiting for— just be good and you’ll get it”

Micah nodded in agreement, a needy, desperate sound leaving him at the promise of praise. He wanted, no needed to be praised by the man so badly that he’d do anything for an ounce of it from the man.

“Oh god Arthur! I need it, need you. Fuck I can be good I promise.”

He knew he was probably being too loud but apart of him didn’t have it in him to care. He moaned softly as Arthur moved him to roll onto his back, towering over him but ensuring they were still kept under the blanket.

Arthur spent the next ten minutes undressing him without exposing much of his skin to the cold. He unbuttoned the lower buttons of his leather jacket, enough for Arthur to work his fly down and pull one pant leg off. He whined pitifully, grabbing at the lapels of Arthur’s coat in a silent plea for him to undress him properly.

Micah mentally scolded himself at just how desperate he was for Arthur to rip his clothes off and fuck him like a bitch in heat but he knew that wasn’t happening any time soon. Arthur however caught on pretty quickly to what he wanted, it seemed the man knew just what made him tick.

“I know sweetheart, once we’re well and truly outta here I’ll get us a room and we can do this properly.”

Micah’s eyes beamed at the thought of Arthur taking him to a hotel in the future, panting as his mind raced with images of Morgan making him fall apart on his cock for hours on end.

While Micah was busy in his mind, Arthur took the opportunity to retrieve the gun oil from his satchel. It certainly wasn’t the best option but it was their only choice with their limited supplies.

Arthur draped himself back over Micah’s body, kissing at his jaw and nibbling as he coated his fingers. The air was cold, only making the oil feel colder as he slowly dipped his index finger past Micah’s rim.

A devilish grin came to Arthur’s face as he heard Micah sigh and take his finger easily, deciding to work his way up to two sooner than he was expecting.

“You’ve wanted this for a long time haven’t you? I saw you once, bout a week ago. Head down, ass up with three of yer fingers inside you while you cried out for me to fuck you. It all clicked in my head then when you started acting different around me at camp.”

Micah flushed a deep red, coughing on air as he realised Arthur knew about his little crush. He tried to think of an excuse, to weasel his way out of it but his thoughts died in his head when Arthur twisted his fingers, scissoring and stretching him open before adding a third.

Arthur dragged a lip along Micah’s cheek to his lip, ghosting his lips over his before kissing him properly. This time Micah didn’t even try to fight for dominance, opening his mouth instantly for Arthur’s tongue to enter. Instead he sighed into it, pulling his legs to wrap around his waist as his hands wrapped around his lover���s shoulder.

It went on like that until Arthur was satisfied that Micah was well prepped enough, simultaneously rubbing against Micah’s prostate while he kissed him deeply. He only pulled away to pull his own leaking member out, bunching his pants around his thighs so he had enough room to move but could stay warm. He coated the rest of the oil onto his member, jerking slowly as he stared down at the sight of Micah below him.

Micah looked like an absolute mess against the pillows already, his face was flush and the scarf around his head had unwrapped slightly, revealing his disheveled blond hair. His chest was heaving as he panted and his thighs shook from pleasure as the weakly wrapped around his waist.

“You look so pretty like this sweetheart”

To say that Micah hated the pet name was a lie, one that he didn’t try deny as he moaned softly. His back arched and he gripped Arthur’s coat tightly as he felt his cock slide between his cheeks and over his hole. He’s wanted this for so long now and yet somehow it still didn’t quite feel real as his mind was clouded with arousal.

Micah’s toes curled and he moaned when he felt Arthur push into him, slowly inching forward until he felt him bottom out.

“Ah— ah! Oh Arthur fuck! Please fuck me, I’ll be good I swear.”

Micah practically sobbed with pleasure as Arthur set up a fast pace, pulling almost all the way out till just the tip was left inside his tight hole before pushing back in quickly, brushing his prostate in the process. His cock twitched from where it rested against his tummy, pinned between Arthur’s jacket which caused a string of moans to fall from his mouth.

“Look at you, so good for me— fucking perfect Micah. Such a good boy”

Arthur’s hands came to hold onto Micah’s hips for leverage, pulling on his slight muffin top under the jacket to help pull him back to meet his thrusts. Beneath him he heard Micah whine and whimper at the praise so desperately needed to hear.

Micah bought a finger up to his mouth, biting on his knuckle to silence any more noises he deemed to be pathetic from slipping out of him. He hated how close he already was just from being praised by Arthur.

It seemed Arthur wasn’t having any of it when he pulled his finger away from his mouth before kissing him like he had done not that long ago. He swallowed every one of Micah’s noises, mindful of Dutch sleeping next door and slowing his thrusts to something deeper and slower.

His hands roamed all over Micah’s clothed body, breaking away for air and whispering praises down his ear.

“That’s it, make those pretty noises for me sweetheart.”

Micah eye’s rolled into his head as he cried out.

“You’re mine, all for me— my good boy.”

More moans slipped from his lips.

“Atta boy— taking me so well, so good.”

His back arched and he withered in his embrace

“So eager to please aren’t you? I’ll take care of you now boy.”

“—Arthur! I’m close— Ah, I’m gonna—“

“Go on sweetheart cum for me…that’s it good boy.”

Micah’s whole body when rigid as he finally came. His mouth hung open, tongue lolling out as his orgasm dragged out with each thrust Arthur delivered, eager to chase his own.

He collapsed into the pillow, thighs shaking as he whined at the oversensitivity. It didn’t last long before Arthur’s thrusts changed pace to something more erratic, picking up the pace as he spilled his load inside him.

Arthur groaned into his neck, pulling him close and collapsing into him as he regained his breath.

He pulled out slowly with a wet and obscene pop, sitting up and helping Micah put his clothes back on. Micah only weakly managed to fiddle with the button on his jacket while Arthur gently manhandled his jelly-like limbs to fit back into his pant leg. He used the blanket to wipe the cum off his tummy, a weak attempt at cleaning up and something they would both no doubt regret come tomorrow morning but for now they were keen to sleep after such a horrific and chaotic few days.

Arthur pulled Micah into their original position for the night, the only difference being that his face was now tucked into his chest. Arthur rested his chin of Micah’s head, littering his hair with kisses as he played with his hair between his rough fingers.

Micah was the first to fall asleep, curled up with his forehead against Arthur’s collarbone. Arthur wasn’t far behind him either, finally letting himself get some much needed rest but not before he pressed a soft kiss to his hairline.