#cause I'm still breathing on my own

[grind-pantera]

So Far From Home. ( Caesar x Human!Reader Oneshot. )

My brain after watching Dawn: I'm in a glass case of emotion

Title: So Far From Home. Fandom: ( Dawn of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T ( Mentions of injury, blood, death. ) Pairing: Heavily Implied - Caesar x Human! Reader. Words: 4.2K+ Summary: You had been with the Apes now for a year. Koba has sparked the rebellion, many Apes believing Caesar to be dead. He wasn't, and in one moment of vulnerability, he opens up to you about his past.

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Ellie had told you to not worry about the shallowness of his breathing, it was normal considering the extent of the damage the bullet did to his shoulder, the nature of infection slowly coming to terms along his body that occasionally trembled as if he were cold. Tightly knitting yourself into a ball on the floor next to the Ape King, you found that plausible. You were incredibly cold, your extremities felt like they were going to break into small pieces, they felt brittle. It was the rainy season once again and the dampness of the jacket you were wearing was doing nothing to help your situation as your eyes rested on the Ape next to you.

Even injured and in the throes of unconsciousness, he didn't lose the roughness of his brows. Always so intimidating and you longed to place your fingers against it to see if it would selfishly soften against your touch. Your fingers flickered at the thought as you brought your face down and kissed your forearm gently, secluding the lower half of your face behind your knees so your eyes were only visible as you kept watch.

The rise and then slow fall of his chest as Caesar was propped against the arm of the couch, accompanied by a pillow for comfort was rhythmic but there were a few times where it appeared he stopped breathing and panic would wash down you before you remembered what Ellie had told you. You tried to say it again and again. His breathing was going to be shallow, maybe even stagnant at points as his body was trying to heal itself with the very minimal use of antibiotics that Ellie had available in her satchel that Malcolm had to sneak into the Colony to acquire. He was injured beyond belief, especially for an Ape, and after laying in a shocked state on the floor of the Muir Woods in complete and drenched rain, silence and bitter chill, it was remarkably brutal when you had stumbled upon him. 

The cry you left out, pushing right past Alexander,  your knees skidding against the ground to the point where your cargo pants ripped, as you wanted to grasp at him immediately but you were pulled back by Malcolm once it was seen by him and Ellie that Caesar was heavily injured, cusping at the brink of death.

The stagger he had as you, Malcolm and Alexander pulled him to his feet, his head lulling towards your own and resting against the side as you held a good portion of his weight, trailing through the woods to the Land Cruiser and placing him in the back gently. His words… always so entrancing to you telling what actually happened. Koba, you had a feeling, was behind it and it all became vividly known once Caesar corrected Ellie who had made the assumption that the rebellion was caused by Humans. You looked at your hands pensively for a moment, uncoiling yourself from your crouched state. It was like you could still see his blood lingering on your digits and it made you uncomfortable to think about. 

It was always a thought that the Humans, at least the three you had gotten to know alongside Caesar, would find your attachment to him unnatural. Untethered and inhuman. It was a tightrope you walked on after they had seen a Human amongst the Apes, but you had explained the situation rather precariously through the time you spent helping them with the dam. Never mates, you were explicit in that despite the underlying want to get there, but you owed Caesar your life for offering you refuge when you were found, starved to death. It was true, what some people said; if the Flu did not kill you, your ability to survive on basic necessities was going to become the forefront on whether or not you could stave death off. They held judgment though when you talked about it, and for that, you were forever grateful. It came to a mutual agreement of ‘you need to do what you need to do to survive in these times’ and it was very seldom brought up again. 

You thought that you were going to need to explain your visceral response to seeing Caesar getting shot, to seeing him fall off the cliff edge, let alone the reaction seen in front of them all when you found his shell-shocked body but they never brought it up, even when you crawled into the back with Ellie as she worked nimbly to help the bleeding, your hands coming to grasp at Caesar’s head and hold it tenderly. It was hard to ignore the fact that he let you touch him so intimately, so closely and the flickering of your eyes between his own gaze told Ellie what she needed to know. But once again, never brought up again and you were once again, grateful to not have to dive into the aspects of the relationship you had with the King of Apes.

It… didn't seem all that comfortable to you as you looked at him, how his body was laying, but you supposed having been through what he just went through, anything but the cold floor of the woods would be better. You knew you were sitting in a small pile of mud from Blue Eyes’ feet standing here previously and he had just departed about fifteen minutes ago to rally those who still supported Caesar, as instructed by Caesar who had a great moment of lucidity before he tumbled into another dreamless fit of sleep. You were left to watch him - by choice, not by force. On the other side of the living room, you figured it might have been a dining room at one time, laid Ellie, Malcolm and Alexander, wound against each other with their blankets. You were envious of that - the warmth they must have felt as you let your eyes fall down to the wound on Caesar’s muscular chest.

It was hard to see in the dim light that was seeping in through the window and the shallow light of a broken lamp in the corner. His fur was so dark that the blood was ultimately undetectable unless you were really looking for it, some of his fur clumping together with the wetness. It was not as bad as it had been, at least you had that small dabble of optimism to cling to as you surveyed your surroundings for the first time, having been previously occupied helping Ellie with Caesar. 

You had not been inside of an actual house in years, you tried to focus on something else other than Caesar’s breathing. Something that would take the edge off as you were now waiting for Blue Eyes to return with the rally. Across the bay, they were heavily rummaged through after the Flu wiped out most of the population, and in a bid to not get shot by another Human, you strayed away from them and focused your attention more on abandoned camps and Colonies that were spread around the area. 

Your eyes turned for a second so you could look at the room you were in. The couch Caesar was against was bright orange and set into a frame of dark wood, explicitly noticeable given the low light you found yourself wrapped in. Trailing your fingers along the wood, you marveled at how smooth it was under touch and smiled dimly. There were shattered photographs lining along the baseboards, scattered like memories as they fell from the wall onto the ground. Grunting quietly, you lifted your body in an attempt to stave sleep off. It felt like you were trapped outside of your body, outside looking in and your feet trailed you around. There were no evident indications on your first sweep of the room of whose home this was, what kind of life they lived other than an abandoned piano across from where Caesar was laying. He brought you here though, a space of solace as Koba began to wage war on the Colony near the mouth of the Golden Gate Bridge. A place where… He was able to tell Malcolm where to drive like he had just been here the day before. The pictures you had seen decrepit on the floor, surrounded by shards of glass from the picture frame colliding with the ground and dust. You squinted and dropped your body into a squat as you reached for one of the frames. 

Picking it up carefully, you shook the glass right out of the frame and dabbled the picture right out of the wood, holding it bare against your fingers. Swiping along it with your middle and pointer finger, the dust cleared away and you studied it intently.  Three humans, you smiled at them in the photograph like they were smiling at you and not frozen in the endless vortex of time. Two men, one older, one younger and a female. A melancholic feeling hit your chest when you drifted your fingers over the young man and woman.  You traced their faces with a gentle touch, wiping the dust away in the process. It felt like years since you had seen a genuine smile like theirs, like that of the young man in the picture. Since you had seen undiluted love like how the woman looked at him, and pure bond like the older man displayed to who you presumed to be his son. It had been years since you had seen these expressions within Humans, but you were reminded of the Apes.

How closely Caesar held Blue Eyes, brows kissing each other.

How, in rare moments of vulnerability, Caesar told you about Cornelia, about the shortened time they had together. 

Your fingers lingered on the woman in the picture. 

How you looked at Caesar, with such awe and wonder.

A moment captured for you to look at years later and feel painstakingly yearning. They remained captured in pictures. Forever immortalized until they faded into oblivion.

A shot of electricity went down your spine at the call of your name from a deep baritone, rounded with seeped deep agony. Quickly, you wiped your eyes of their budding tears and moved towards the Ape who had called your name, clutching the picture tightly to your chest. “Caesar.” You gasped out and bent to crouch near him so you were able to look at him eye to eye. 

Heart sinking a bit in your chest at the state his face appeared to be in, so tired and forlorn with betrayal, his wrinkles seemed as prominent as ever as the lovely nature of his hazel eyes bore right into yours, reddened around the edges. “Blue Eyes isn’t back yet,” You started, figuring that’s where the conversation was going to go either way. “You--- You should rest,” The voice you were using was nothing more than a whisper, your eyes flickering for a moment to the entry point on his shoulder and then back to meet his gaze. “Ellie said resting was the best thing for you to do---” “Do… not feel... like resting.” Caesar said through gritted teeth and pensively shut his eyes for a few seconds, and when he reopened them, they were fixated on the ceiling above with a sparkle of what you would describe as being familiar like he had been here before. With a wash of air against you, Caesar propped his body up further so he was sitting up rather than laying stagnantly. At least he was able to support his body weight, you thought and inadvertently reached forward to help him, but shook off your attempt once he looked at you again with an intent glance. Shuffling around a bit, you realized that Caesar sat up so you could sit down next to him, giving enough room on the ledge of the couch for you to rest somewhat comfortably against his legs. Resting the picture you had in your hands in your lap, you raised your hand and lightly let your fingertips float above his wound. Never actually making contact with it, but you were so near to him that Caesar’s body tensed in anticipation of you actually making contact. “What… What happened?” “Koba… Started this… I must end it… Before it is too late…” He muttered to you and looked at the photograph in your lap for a few seconds too long, an oddly reminiscent sensation taking hold of the Ape King’s chest and swelling it with the uncomfortable notion that you had deduced where you were before he had the opportunity to tell you himself. But, from your lack of questioning regarding the matter, that did not seem to be the case. Caesar drew a raggedly breath in, squeezing his eyes shut as a splash of fire radiated along his chest, across his entire pectoral region despite the wound being on his left shoulder. It had already begun, the war itself. There was nothing that Caesar could do now to stop it, even Caesar had to know that despite his best efforts to presume that it was not a logical possibility.

Still, he moved, still he preserved and survived, sending his son to gather the troops that were as loyal as ever to their King with a plan and what you hoped to be a successful execution. The support he got from his child, from the Apes who refused to follow Koba into battle, was remarkable, and just seeing the respect he garnered by simply walking into a room always left you breathless. That kind of support that humanity lost throughout the years and it was only peppered amongst the bigger colonies and camps, and no doubt, it was going to get worse once they allied against another enemy. He was in pain, surely, but knowing him, you knew he was going to push past it for the sake of the Apes and their rights to freedom. 

“Never wanted… to come back here…” He gestured vaguely, eyes blurring out of focus for a second, moving his uninjured shoulder a bit to bring your attention to the room you were in, “This place…” His voice was hitting in a deeply rich tone, coming straight from his chest and bubbled shamelessly around you. No matter what he said, no matter how it was directed at you, you would always find yourself listening and yearning for more. 

“You know this place…?” Of course he did, you thought to yourself. He just said that! Tightening your grip on the photograph in your hands, you clenched your jaw at his meager head nod, the question you had asked was rebudent and did not need a verbal confirmation. “Wh--- Where are we?” “In the city,” He grunted softly, looking at the photograph in your hands again. This time, you caught the minor movement and flipped it over gently so he could see what was actually printed on the other side. Caesar only glanced at it a moment before preemptively moving his eyes to an indirect source on the wall to the left. “A place… from another time…” 

He moved next to you again, this time urging you to move as well as his legs hit against your back. You drifted to your feet slowly and watched as he placed his feet onto the ground and hoisted his torso up with a sweeping movement. “Come,” He was suddenly standing, and you went to grab him before he tumbled straight back down. Caesar only held up a hand, telling you to stop and that he was more than capable of moving now. He better have been, knowing where he was going once Blue Eyes returned. “I… will show you…”

Silence hit the two of you like a blanket as he stepped forward, bracing his entire weight on one foot first to see if he was okay to proceed. Nodding to himself, Caesar assessed and began trailing towards the stairs, and upwards. It was obvious from the gait of his walk and how he was holding himself with one arm that the pain was eradicating all his other senses, and yet… He still moved, determined almost.  On the landing, your eyes caught focus of the books that were strewn about the built in bookcases lining the wall. All the good material was taken, a few encyclopedias and music books remaining now. 

Then, to the right. You had your suspensions, but now? Confidence beamed inside of your head that your intuition was correct, that Caesar had vast knowledge of this home, where to go, where things may have been hidden. In his bloodied state, he gestured you up the ladder towards the attic, and with a contemplative stare at him, his unequivocal, you succumbed and moved upwards, Caesar right behind you.

With a small ‘thud’ of your feet against the wooden floor, you scooted to the side for the Ape behind you to come to rest his feet on the floor. Rest, he did not though. There was a wash of familiarity on his face as he looked into the room, bending his head down enough to get in from under the beam that had fallen from the ceiling. He had resumed his regular movements, broad, intimidating, but his expression was beyond that and seeped at you intense vulnerability. 

Swallowing gently, you followed him, almost like you were in a dream like state. This… place… You looked at the gymnastic-like set up, chains holding onto loops, one chain dangling, holding a weight at the end, only a few inches off the ground that Caesar grasped into his powerful hand and shifted to the left and watched it in a hypnotic state as it moved back towards him. There was a chess-board, or at least, that’s what it appeared to be as you moved towards the bed, lightly placing your fingers against a pawn as Caesar’s attention was captured by a cam-corder sitting on the desk. Almost hesitantly, he picked it up and analyzed it as he so often did with human technology in his possession. 

“This was,” The screen flashed blue against his already stark features, illuminating it just enough for you to see the flood of what had to be tears right under his eyes. “My home.” 

Mouth agape now at that confession, you suddenly had so much to ask but so little came out as he finnicked around the cam-corder, unplugging it with one hand as he moved towards the bed to finally rest. Much needed, he thought to himself and shut his eyes as his body weight fell onto the mattress. Rounding the iron framing of the twin bed, you felt heavy next to him. His… home? This place? This house? You knew that he lived with Humans, that he had been raised by them, but you had no idea the extent. In your mind, you could see the photograph ingrained on your eyelids, despite it being tucked away in your back pocket for safe keeping. No reason to keep it, you just felt a pull to. 

Caesar, Caesar, look. 

At the sound of a human, you instinctively kicked yourself out of your inner thoughts and realized that the Ape had begun playing whatever was recorded on the device he had intense interest in. 

Apple.

Apple.

Good!Fixation was heavy on the small screen as you both watched it. The man… The same one from the photograph in your pocket and… Widening your eyes in shock, seeing the all encompassing scar on his chest, your mouth felt dry all of a sudden when you came to the candance that you were seeing Caesar… Young… incredibly so, he was so small, the innocence that lingered in his gaze as he looked at the Human showing him sign, the reminiscent stare he now had at the screen. It was flooding back, wave after wave, knowing that Chimpanzee’s couldn’t swim and he’d be brutally swept up in them. Home.  Gently said.

Home. A bit more sternly.

Home. Adamantly. 

You were glad to have a voice to the face. 

Yes. He chuckled and that prickled at your ears. The sound of a Human laughing, and it must have evoked something to Caesar as he huffed in response to seeing himself younger, reaching out with one of his arms to grasp at the man. This is your home. Your home. 

Good, good… That’s good.

The screen flashed a vibrant blue right as the young Caesar had gone to embrace the man, three small beeps coming to the device. That’s all that was on there. Introspectively, the camera was shut, the screen no longer giving any illumination against Caesar’s face as it rested lightly on the bed beside him. 

“Was that…” Your voice came out remarkably quiet and timid, not quite sure if it was appropriate to speak, “That man, was he…?” “A… good man.” You looked at the recorder and then trailed your gaze up Caesar’s body. He wasn’t closing himself off like he often did when you’d bring up the past, about personal details. Your eyes met, and in the soft moonlight that came through the window, you moved towards him, one step… two… And suddenly, you were right in front of him, between the legs he had open for balance as he sat. His eyes rested on your mild collarbone for a few seconds, admiring the gentle nature of your breathing before he shut them and you were no longer able to drown in the color you had come to adore. 

“He raised you.” Nothing more than a peep, Caesar reacted to that with semi-tightened shoulders and a curt nod of the head. “What was… his name?” His jaw moved unexpectedly, dancing forwards and backwards in deep contemplation as his teeth gilded against each other. Caesar had known you were going to ask, but he hadn’t expected the video, he hadn’t expected it to be so difficult to answer, to just say a simple name. So difficult to see him again, to hear his voice, to see himself before the Rise, and before he stepped until weighted down power and responsibilities.

He felt so torn; the knowledge that he would not be there in front of you without the downfall of them. The resistance he had all these years not to think about them, not to remember them as individuals, but as a whole. Humans. But you… were human, and you were not a whole to Caesar. You were an individual, he’d consider you an equal in knowledge and understanding, and if he had been thinking in all logical and illogical perspectives, you would be equal in other, more satisfyingly quipped ways.

Maybe, he told himself with a blur of his eyes as he tried to focus on you in front of him, maybe if this ended and he defeated Koba, and if he found a solemn and safe place for the Apes to go to, he’d change that if you were willing to accept. 

“Will,” Caesar finally spoke and you felt your breath exhale at that, you hadn’t even noticed you were holding it in. “And… the others,” Unexpectedly, he reached around and tugged the photograph from your back pocket. The fact that he knew it was there shouted at you that he was always paying attention to even the smallest movements, as you had shoved it into your pocket quickly when he stood up earlier. “Caroline,” His thick finger pointed at the woman, then swept to the old man, “Charles.” You looked at them and traced their faces. Will, Caroline and Charles… Caesar’s family before he… Gently, you folded the photograph up as you grasped it from him. He did not protest, but looked up at you with sunken eyes. “I-I’m sorry, I never should have…” “They… were good,” Caesar chided and scooted over for you to sit down next to him. Enjoying the sensation of the bed dipping in as you dropped next to him, he continued in a rumbling voice, quite enough that you wouldn’t wake the others downstairs, “Reason why… I… choose to believe… in the good… in you.” You knew that he was talking in broadened terms, that he did not mean explicitly you. But, it was taken that way, and you figured that Caesar was intuitive to know how his words were going to come across once they fell on your ears. How his glances at you were going to be interpreted. “You miss them.” 

That wasn’t a question, it was a fact. An irrefutable one as Caesar drew his gaze into your own, deeper than the ocean and intense that it took the breath right out of your lungs and you felt like you were scrabbling for air. Wrapped up again in silence, you found your eyes lightly dancing between his own, and you were so near, you could smell the irony nature of the blood that was clinging to his fur, feeling his hot breath against his face as his mouth fell open. Caesar didn't feel the need to say anything from that, making his answer evident enough by bringing you into the room he once called his own. 

‘I do not dwell on them.’ He signed at you, almost like he was trying to convince himself that he wasn’t telling you a lie, that it was the truth, that he did not dwell, or think about them, late at night by himself. Caesar tilted his head to the side wearily. He couldn’t even bring himself to say it verbally. ‘Pointless,’ your eyes watched his fingers and hands move, ‘To live in the past..’

“Not pointless to forget, though.” Muttering softly, Caesar watched your lips form the words with deep intent. “We… can’t live in the future without remembering our past.”

[ghcstao3]

vampire x monster hunter……….i am so respectfully asking for more (im foaming at the mouth)

(original post) i shall do my best. again i got a little out of hand with word count. cw blood (of course)

-

John knows he should be happy about Simon's return.

He knows he should be happy to be reunited with his once-best friend even if it's after over a decade, because all this time he'd thought Simon was dead. He knows he should be happy that Simon would return here, of all places, to make amends, to catch up, to do whatever it is old friends are meant to. He knows this.

And yet... John can't help but feel on edge.

John is happy, of course he is. It isn’t often he’s surprised as he was when the knock at his door had been Simon. It isn’t every day an old friend returns from the dead. But he can only be fed the same excuses over and over so many times before he grows wary in Simon’s presence, which is really, truly the last thing he wants.

Being told I'm not hungry, I'll eat later would only be of any worth if Simon had said it once or twice, and not for every meal offered. It might be a cause for concern if Simon did not still appear consistently healthy and sated in spite of it.

Not to mention the sneaking out at odd hours. New creaks and groans have since developed in John's old house, ones Simon wasn't aware of, clearly, until the first time he makes his mistakes. It all just... worries John. Frightens him. Of course people change, and certainly over thirteen years, but it all seems to raise far more questions than there are answers that Simon is willing to give.

And then all of the sudden it makes too much sense, and John finds himself wishing Simon had never come back.

With the regularity at which people disappear in and around the town, John doesn't notice any difference after Simon's arrival. No increase or decrease, no change in occurrences that might tip John off to a new creature needing to be hunted.

This particular hunt was meant to be carried out like any other; John was heading out alone as the creature he was after didn't pose so much a threat to require help, it would be clean and quick, then he'd return home. He leaves a note for Simon, who may or may not have gone out himself, grabs his gear and vanishes beneath the cloak of a cloud-filled night.

Vampire, is what little information he'd been provided with, and so vampire is what he prepares himself for.

John has long since been a stranger to bloodshed. Really, it's necessary he not be squeamish, especially when so often he comes across scenes like this—this being the messy feasting of what could only be a newer, more inexperienced vampire. The unfamiliar hunger like nothing else usually makes them far more reckless when it comes to finding food.

This fledgling isn't any different, judging by the large smears and smatterings of blood leading right to John's culprit.

A figure sits hunched in the dark, accompanied only by the sound of tearing flesh. When John had first been learning, the lack of breathing that should be present when drinking so fiercely had made him uneasy, but now it merely serves as a reminder that he should hold his own breath, lest he catch the vampire's attention.

John wields a silver dagger, creeping forward as carefully as he might in approaching a wild animal—these monsters are just about the same, anyway.

But John underestimates how elevated this particular fledgling's senses would be. They pause the moment John takes a step toward them, sitting up straighter, immediately alert. Their face remains obscured, but John can see them cock their head, presumably listening for his pulse.

He expects an attack. Expects a fight so as to not become the next course.

What John hadn't expected—or maybe a subconscious part of him had—was for the figure to rise slow and cautious, head bowed in what John might dare call shame. What he hadn't expected was for the vampire to turn on their heel and have John met with none other than—

"Simon?"

His head remains hung, silhouette still impossibly imposing. It's hard to discern much in the low light, but John imagines Simon's irises are currently a scarlet red as opposed to their usual warm coffee brown, if evidenced by the blood that covers his face and drips from his chin.

"Johnny." His voice is hoarse, but it's most certainly Simon's. He can probably hear the way John's heart picks up pace, be it out of fear, or be it out of use of a nickname Simon has so far avoided since their reunion. "Johnny, I'm sorry."

“Simon, wha—“ John frowns and finds his guard falling, yet his grip on the hilt of his knife only tightens. “I don’t—“

“I can’t help it,” Simon rasps, begging. “I can’t… I learned how to control myself, I did, but when I’m around you…”

Simon is directly in front of John in the blink of an eye, frigid hands curling around John's, around the dagger. He allows the tip of the blade to dig into his abdomen, unflinching as it pokes past clothes and just barely breaks skin. John holds steady, more than capable of pushing it further, but unwilling to hurt—or kill—Simon until he's given a reason to.

Never mind the mangled corpse on the ground just a few feet away.

"How long?"

"Johnny—"

"How long, Simon?"

Simon doesn't meet his eyes. They're dark either way like this, in this lack of light, but John still feels like something isn't quite right about it.

"A few months. A year, maybe. Two," Simon confesses. "It's all muddled."

For reasons John can't describe, somehow it stings knowing this... affliction has only been short-term. Because instead it could have been an explanation for Simon's disappearance—let alone that of his family's that he still often wonders about. Because instead it could have been a reason for Simon to have stayed away for so long even as an adult.

But it's not.

"Then why come back now? And why come back here?" John hisses. "You're a fuckin' dafty, y'know that?"

Simon's mouth parts, and for the first time since his arrival John finally catches a glimpse of his fangs; razor sharp and promising a swift but violent death for John should Simon's instincts get the best of him.

He then seals his lips in a thin line, swallowing whatever words he may have had prior. Simon offers a solemn nod of his head, his theme of shame so insistent.

Against John's better judgement, he retracts the knife. Tucks it away, and forces space between them. The overwhelming stench of iron is beginning to make him nauseous.

Softer, much softer than Simon deserves at the moment, and far too reminiscent of a past long gone, John says, "You were supposed to be the leveller-head between us."

Simon huffs. "'Be easier if constantly listening to your pulse wasn't driving me mad."

Oh.

"Oh." The pounding in John's ribcage does him no favours in picking up speed again. Then, suddenly realizing where and why he is, John attempts to steel himself, clenching his jaw and taking deep, slow breaths to calm the flutter of his heart. "Well, quit listenin' then."

Simon regards him curiously, in a way so painfully familiar to a past life.

A silence stretches on between them, tense and riddled with uncertainty. John tries, pointedly, to ignore the elephant still in the room, but between the blood and the smell and the looming issue of them being a vampire and a monster hunter, it's nigh impossible.

But even still—John thinks it'd be less right to kill Simon now, than to let him free. To bring him home.

John sighs, suddenly and immediately overcome with fatigue. He pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger for just a moment, rubbing the skin to unsuccessfully self-soothe. He wishes there was some sort of... protocol, for this. Maybe then things could be easier. Could make more sense. Just for once.

"I'm not—" John pauses, takes a breath, shakes his head. "I won't kill you, Simon. Not... now, at least."

Simon nods. "That's all I can ask for."

"Good, because that's all you're getting." It's a lie, and they both damn well know it, but just a little longer would John like to linger in ignorance. "Now just... clean this up before anyone sees. We'll talk about this more in the morning, alright?"

"Alright."

John offers a tight smile, whether or not Simon can really see it.

"Right. Goodnight, Simon."

"Goodnight, Johnny."

John hovers only a second, hooked on that nickname as he's always been, before he finally pivots on his heel and starts off the other way, turning a dutiful blind eye like he really shouldn't be doing.

He had missed Simon, he really had—but he's afraid to start wondering if this will all be worth the trouble, in the end.

[sebsxphia]

Jake Seresin would call you Bambi cause you walk like a newborn fawn after he's done with you.

"Bambi. My Bambi."

He would mutter under his breath, watching with a self-satisfied smirk as you struggle to the bathroom. Of course, he'll join you in a second to help you off the toilet and to fill the bath, can't leave his best girl struggling. But for now he's drinking in the view for a few more seconds.

But apparently his remark was loud enough for you to hear, because you look at him over your shoulder with what he is sure would be one of the glares that would send him six feet under if you had that power. But because you don't and because your newly fucked, it does not have the desired effect.

"Get up and help me, Seresin."

"Yes ma'am."

He follows the order anyways because your adorable and it really scratches a certain type of itch in his brain to pick you up and carry you into the bathroom, only to soak in a rose-smelling bath until the water gets cold with you after he just rocked your shit.

"Bambi's gotta 'ttude."

He says, snorting at his own words. You smile up at him blissfully, still held in his strong arms, and stroak his cheek with shaiky fingers, you peck his jawline.

"Your so cute."

" 'm not cute."

He grumbles, yanking up the toilet lid and setting you down before backing up a bit and putting his hands on his hips. Dad Stance Seresin, everybody.

"Do you need water or can you pee now?"

"I can go now. And you are cute. My cutie through."

Jake purses his lips, "you won't say anything in front of the squad?"

You shake your head, "nope."

"Promise."

"Pinky promise, Jay."

You hold up your pinky. Jake smiles, it's a wide, boyish, kiddish smile that you've only seen when his family came to visit a few months back and he was playing like there was no tomorrow with his nieces and nephews.

"I'm your cutie."

He says quietly, in a shy voice and pecks your forehead, moving past you to start the water for the bath. A light blush on his cheeks. You make a sound of protest, and he turns back. You pull him closer and cup his cheeks, esskimo kissing him, "my cutie." And peck his lips before releasing him. Jake stares at you for a few seconds, remaining in his crocheted stance before attacking your face with kisses and muttering on about how adorable you are.

OH MY GOD, PLEASE! THIS IS THE SWEETEST THING IVE EVER READ WITH JAKE 🥺🥹 because! because! you know how much i love and adore the nickname, bambi! the sweet domestication of it all and how he carries you to the toilet to help you pee! the cute defiance to being called cute! calling him jay! the pinky promise and his boyish little grin! the flurry of kisses! omg. i’m literally so in love with this, my dear anon 🥹 i’m going to be thinking about this forever. i could see this play out so clearly. he’s so dreamy! thank you so much for this sweet thought! 🥹💌

[mustainegf]

Are we gunna get a drunk ‘n’ love pt 3 😭 I’m dying.

YESSS HI HERE IT IS SORRYYY!!!!

𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊 ‘𝐍’ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ¹⁹⁸⁵ — 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

I inhaled deeply and said, "Actually, there is something. It's about last night."

He raised his eyebrow and gestured for me to continue. "Okay, what is it?"

I fidgeted with my hands, trying to find the right words. "Well, you were really drunk, and, um. after you threw up, I helped you into bed, and then. something happened."

James' face screwed up, he scowled, then leaned really close to what I deemed my personal space. "What do you mean? Did I do something stupid?"

A lump seemed to develop in my throat, and my voice shook. "You kissed me, James."

He gazed at me as though he was confused, a hint of surprise even. "I- I kissed you?"

I nodded quickly as my cheeks flared red. "Yeah. You did. And then you passed out."

His eyes dropped in embarrassment. "I'm really sorry. I- I didn't mean to-"

I broke in quickly, my own voice still shaking. "It's all right. I mean, it was a shock, but. I didn't mind."

He looked up at me, his face a mix of puzzlement and something I couldn't define. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

I shook my head, trying to catch my breath. "It was. nice. I just wasn't sure if you remembered, or if it.. um, meant anything to you."

Then we just sat there for a minute, the tension thick. He finally spoke, his soft voice barely above a whisper. "I really don't remember much, but. if I kissed you, it wasn't just 'cause I was drunk."

My heart skipped a beat, and I could hardly believe my ears.

We stared at each other, the words suspended in the air. I whispered his name, "James."

His whisper echoed mine, "I know."

Ever so slowly, he reached a hand out to cup my cheek, his shaking the least bit. I leaned into him, mine eyes fluttering shut. Then, with such tenderness that it hurt my heart, he pressed his lips to mine, much more passionately now.

Warmth flooded me, my hands somehow finding their way to his shoulders as I kissed him back, savoring every second.

Finally, when we broke apart, our foreheads leaned on each other, panting and staring. The suspense that had really been hanging over us seemed to melt away just like that, replaced by something new.

Softly, James smiled, his thumb pressing against my cheek. "I've wanted to do that for a long time," he whispered in. “I fell for you the second we met.”

I smiled back, and my heart felt lighter than I could remember. "Me too."

I felt bravery and excitement within. I playfully giggled, settling into James's lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck. He chuckled quietly, his hands settling on my waist to cradle me in close.

We leaned into another kiss, our lips meeting slowly as our faces were held gently away from the touch of each other's hands.

His hands slid up to cup my face, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks as we lost ourselves in the moment.

I couldn’t forget the taste of him, it was surprisingly sweet, like brown sugar, and a slight tinge of the bitterness of cigarettes.

Abruptly, we were brought back to reality by a voice from the doorway. "Holy shit," someone chuckled.

We broke apart, turning around to find Lars standing there, shock and amusement written across his face. "Am I interrupting something?" he asked, the wide grin growing across his face.

I feel my face burning, and in a rush to climb off James's lap, he holds me there firmly but gently, preventing me from going just yet. James laughed, obviously as flustered as I was. "Uh, hey man." He chuckled.

“It’s not what it looks like…” I mumbled, shoving my face into James shoulder to hide the embarrassment.

Lars raised an eyebrow, only his grin growing wider. "Really? Because it looks exactly like what it looks like."

James looked just as relieved as I was and finally allowed me to slide off his lap, though he kept his arm around my waist. "Okay, fine. Maybe it is what it looks like."

Lars chuckled again, shaking his head. "Well, it's about time. I’m losing count of how many times you get hard around her."

I looked at James, surprised by Lars's comment, and James just shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "Fuck off dude. Whatever, I’m not subtle."

"Nope," Lars said, still smiling. "Not at all."

I was mortified, but also well, relieved. So I might as well just go with it. I leaned into James's side, smiling at Lars.

Lars nodded, giving us the thumbs up. "Yeah yeah, good for you guys I guess. Just, you know, try and keep it PG."

James and I laughed, the tension broken. "We'll try," James promised, still holding me close.

As Lars left the room, still chuckling to himself, I looked up at James, my heart so full. "So, what now?" I asked softly.

Now you get back over here and we’ll start where we left off." He smiled, pushing the strand of hair back from my face.

[dinogoofymutated]

Cable/GN!Reader Okay, so I'm on my Cable shit again. I found this WIP and a couple others for him and GODDD UGH I'm so fucking obsessed. Love a good danger room sparring scene so this one was just for fun ;) I'd consider it part of the tender moments series I have going on, but you don't need to read the other two to understand this one. TWS: Kinda spicy, no smut. Making out, sparring, Nate being an absolute goofball in his own way. Caught by the parents trope (sorry Scott). Short but cute.

    Cable’s gun was smoking by the time the two of you cleared the last level of the danger room, and you were having the time of your life. You were tired, sure. But there was just something about the danger room that gave you such an adrenaline rush, and you were sure it might just be that you don’t actually have to worry about dying in here compared to real fights (mostly, at least). 

    You were having fun, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have a plan to excite the day a little further.

    “Alright, Last level finished. We should clear out for the others.” Cable says to you, switching the safety on his gun as he sets it to the side, stretching his arms and shoulders.

    “Well, actually…” You don’t even have to finish the thought, Nathan raising an eyebrow at you as he stands up to his full height, crossing his arms at you.

    “Seriously? You requested extra time to spar?” He asks, and even though he’s frowning, you can tell he’s poking fun at you. You shrug at him, looking up at him with an excited smile on your face.

    “Yeah? Why not?” You ask, knowing full well that you had never sparred with Nathan before despite the many years the two of you have been a team. Nate lets out an amused hum, looming before you as he squares his shoulders.

    “You realize that I’m twice your size, right?” Nathan says, an amused smile on his face.

    “And? Come on Nate, It’s not like I haven't fought someone your size before.” You tell him, and it makes Nathan laugh.

    “You mean the times I had to step in to save your sorry ass?” He says, causing your smile to drop into a pout as you start to deny it, just for him to flood your mind with somewhat embarrassing memories of him doing just that.

    “I- would you cut that out!” You scold, slapping his arm just to immediately try to hide the fact that it hurt- the sting of the metal a sharp pain across your palm. He chuckles at the action anyway- but you’ve never been a quitter.

     “-It’s starting to sound like you’re just making excuses, old man.” You say instead, and his eyes narrow at the name. He tilts his head at you with a dry expression like he’s asking if you're absolutely sure you want to play this game today, only for you to stubbornly meet his gaze with a defiant smirk.

    He doesn't stop to reply, instead immediately rushing you.

    He catches you off-guard at first, taking the breath out of you for a moment before you’re quickly ducking under his arms. Escaping him before he can get a good grip on you. If there was one thing that always surprised you, it was how Nathan managed to be so quick despite his huge stature. It’s hard to go blow to blow with him due to the size difference between the two of you, but you manage to get more than a few good hits in. You don’t know how long the two of you spar for, but when Nate finally kicks your legs out from underneath you and pins you to the ground, you’re too tired to fully fight back.

    The two of you are heaving, grinning at each other as your gaze stays locked, and even though you’re outmatched, you’re still unwilling to give up. Nathan gives you a judging stare as he hears the thought, unable to understand why you’re just so stubborn. Sure, he technically had bested you- calling just about every move you made down to the T due to his abilities, but you found that the best way to take Nathan by surprise was to act on impulse. 

    “Don’t be stubborn. You know you’ve been-” Nate lets out a surprised noise as you cut him off with a kiss, dragging him down closer to you by his broad shoulders. He’s stiff and surprised for a moment before he relaxes into the kiss. You had originally planned for this to be a distraction, but lord knows that you should have realized you would quickly be too caught up in the feeling of him against you to remember or care about what you were doing before.

    Nathan nips at your lips as one of his hands slides under your back to support you, the other keeping himself propped up against the tile floors. You let him take charge in the kiss as your hands wander up and down his clothed chest, drifting down to yank his shirt out of his belt so that you can touch his bare abdomen instead. Nate sighs into the kiss, adjusting so that he can press his knee against your core, causing you to moan into the kiss as his hand begins to slide your shirt off and he begins to kiss down your jaw and neck, just barely beginning to ravish you completely when the door slides open with a swish.

    “WOAH!” A voice calls out from the doorway, one you recognize instantly. You and Nathan separate, both startled by the sudden intrusion. Scott quickly covers his sunglass-covered eyes he looks away, embarrassed. You swear that you and Nate had never separated so quickly before, trying to make yourselves proper as you stand up and turn to face his young father.

    “I was- Uh, I was going to tell you two that dinner was ready.” Scott stutters out, still covering his eyes.

    “Oh! I didn't notice how long we had been in here!” You ramble, nervously fidgeting with your hands as you pretend to check the time. “Thank you for coming to get us.” You continue nervously, knowing for a fact you were only digging your hole deeper. Maybe once you’re done digging you can lie down inside of it and die from this horrible embarrassment.

    Thank him or apologize or something! You think pointedly at Cable while you're standing there, and all he does is give you an incredulous look.

    I’m not doing -either-. He interrupted us! Nathan tells you, returning the thought without so much as speaking a word.

    That’s because we were about to- You can't bring yourself to finish the sentence, blushing intensely at the images you think of as you picture exactly what you wanted him to do to you on the danger room floor. You see a light blush rise to Nathan’s cheeks too, despite his ever-grumpy expression. -WAIT!- Not the point! It- Damnit! PUBLIC space, Nathan! Public space!!! Damn your stupid intrusive thoughts! You know you’re completely flustered and embarrassed, unable to actually believe that you were just walked in on by Nathan’s young father.

    Scott finally turns to leave for a moment, and you feel the tension in your shoulders let up a bit when the doors slide shut, only for your anxiety to spark immediately after when the doors swoosh open again, Scott still standing there with his eyes covered.

    “I, uh, since you’re both grown adults and everything, I assume I don’t need to give you the talk, Right?” Scott asks, and if you could shrivel up and die right at this moment in time, you would gladly do so.

    “Oh my god.” You sat, covering your red face.

    “No, Dad! Could you just leave already?!” Nathan finally yells, and for a moment you wonder if all this embarrassment you’re feeling is coming from him, too. Scott nods vigorously, letting out a quiet, “Yeah, Yup.” as he quickly and finally leaves the room. 

    Both of you let out a sigh of relief when he’s gone, still embarrassed to the very core at bening caught like that.

    “Jesus Christ, we look like a couple of horny teens or something, getting caught like that.” You mumble after a long pause, trying to shake it off. You hear Nathan snort from next to you, and you give him a confused look. 

    “Who’s we?” He asks. You roll your eyes and he lets out an amused huff at the sight.

    I’ve seen every corner of your mind, Sweetpea. You can’t hide your thoughts from me. Nate tells you, flashing the images of some of your dirtiest and most inappropriate thoughts about him in your mind. You were sure there was so much blood rushing to your face at this point that it was about to explode.

    “Would you, please, stop that!”

[ellieslittleburrow]

Motorcycle accident

Summary : Requested by @a-lil-bit-nuts : could i request reader getting into a motorcycle accident and sam and dean freaking out when she calls them crying because her leg got banged up and she's in pain.

Warnings : road accident, mentions of blood and a little panic attack

A/N : 💀 this has also been in my drafts since day one so i literally had to force myself to post or else it wouldn't be posted-ever ahahahaha

---

It is said that riding a motorcycle is like flying. When you're at high speed, the scenery gets blurry and all you can think of is staying alive, somehow bringing serenity into your being, peace of mind, a bit of quiet.

You could not relate to that at the moment, as you found yourself sliding along with the bike all the way the sidewalk, the edge of the latter forcing the bike and your own body to a stop.

Cold and adrenaline rush through your body....it's....so cold-your back....cold and-you just-you- accident...

Phone.

You tug into your pocket and through the shaking hands dial Sam's number. Dean never answers. Sam answers instantly.

"Hey honey." His tone is sweet and confident.

"Sammy i-i-my leg is-i got into-i-" You stutter, waiting for a response but instead all you get is lots of noise, indicating swift moves. "Sammy?"

"I'm coming to you, honey. I'm coming. We're on our w-"

On Sam's side, papers suddenly fly at the speed of his mouvement.

"DEAN" He growls, heading straight for his brother's room. "DEAN" He doesn't bother to knock, too tense to think- "She-Sh-she's been in an accident."

The realization hits Dean like thunder and his whole face contorts before he jumps off the bed. "What-no-where is she?"

The older brother asks, his hands frantically searching for the keys. His swift motions doing him no good, only freaking him out furthur.

"DEAN!" Sam snaps him out of his thoughts and Dean notices the keys in his brother's hands.

As they both head for the door, Sam dials his sister's number. "Come on, baby. Pick up." He pleads...whoever. And when a puff emits from his lips, Dean understands that the ringing died.

"Try it again." The latter orders, a faint hint of hope in his voice. He couldn't tell though, if it was hope or desperation. His little sister not answering instantly means that something bad has happened. That's always been the case with Dean. Ever since he got her a phone. "Always have it by your side, i can't call you and have you not answer." A phrase she's heard and fought about a million times.

And just when his fist hits the steering wheel, her little voice comes over Sam's phone. It's faint, causing Dean to snatch the phone from his brother's hand.

"Kid, where are you-are you okay" The oldest of the family swallows the knot in his stomach, directly asking the question to avoid shuddering in front of his younger siblings.

"Deeeean" Your voice follows the evident heaving of your chest. "It h-h-urts so much. Please-I don't want to be here alone-i'm-it hurts so badly." You freely sob and Dean holds his breath in, swallowing the ache penetrating through his heart. His baby is in so much pain and he-

"Dean!" Dean swiftly turns his head to the side, eyeing the wide eyed Sam sitting beside him. "Drive, man! We have to get to her."

the hunter starts the car, handing the phone to his brother. "Put in on speaker." He orders his younger brother, heading to nowhere still.

"Honey, where are you-we're coming to get you-we're on our way-just tell us where you are"

Both men grimace at the noise around her, the blabbbering and the-

"I'm so scared. Please hurry-i'm only a couple of minutes away-it's right next to the gas station we always go to-"

"I see her!" Enthousism breaks Sam's voice when he spots a crowd and a bike, his heart sinking at the thought of what's hiding behind. "Honey we're here-Don't hang up"

-----

You didn't know which was more painful, the actual burning in your leg or the suffocating feeling caused by the crowd envelopping every inch of your space. You internally thank the tingling wetness in your eyes because it caused enough blurriness that people turned into faceless figures.

As a guy hoists you up. And consequently the road ahead starts to emerge and two familiar figures appear to be running towards you. You blink your tears away-they're here!

They're finally here.

-----

Lil nuts, i hope this isn't too dramatic and i hope this is what freaking out is to you. Kisses to you and thank you again for the request! ❤️❤️❤️🥀🥀🥀

[majorshiraharu]

Apologies to those who've tagged me in things or sent requests and haven't gotten a response, I just honestly haven't had the time or strength.

Between bad family stuff, moving stress, new medicine and on going health conditions, I've been pretty ill and doctor appointments are hard to come by atm. I'm just waiting for July to get here so I can see some specialists and hopefully finally get some help ;-; constant chest pains with trouble breathing aren't fun. On top of it I keep getting pain after eating cause my Crohn's is being a jerk.

Stressed potato times, but what can ya do, sometimes life/health isn't great and that's okay, not everything needs to be perfect. 💙 Hugs 💙

More personal update/stuff in tags

[sysig]

As soon as I figure out how to animate breathing it’s over for y’all

[thecorruptedquietone]

What do you think makes Kevin distinctly different from Kenny?

Well Kevin can cook waffles therefore putting his culinary talents leagues ahead of Kenny the Kitchen Fire Hazard.

Honestly the main difference is their social abilities. I think the biggest strike against Kevin for a lot of people is that he isn’t shown having these bonding moments with Kenny or Karen in the way we’ve seen Kenny and Karen have bonding moments. There were some in earlier seasons for Kenny and Kevin since Karen was entirely fanon at that point, but even all of those scenes combined don’t compare to just The Poor Kid, let alone the other emphasis.

And I read that as the big difference between Kenny and Kevin being that Kenny is more socially inclined and Kevin just isn’t. It’s not hard to extrapolate considering the bits of dialogue we have about him make him sound pretty damn awkward. Like, he probably would’ve just been an awkward kid anyway, but his home situation exacerbated it to a point his social skills took a hit. Kenny really doesn’t have that since he talks more, speaks his mind, and just has more friends. The talking and feelings stuff just isn’t Kevin’s ballgame. 

[rottcnflower-blog]

Tag drop.

[counterpunches]

source

Caption:

[[@else: I suppose it's time to tell my abortion story. Of the abortion that didn't happen, that led to me.

A lot of anti-abortion people put words & thoughts into the mouths of the unborn.

Well, I'm one that was recommended to stay unborn, who got born, and here's what I say.

My mother found our very early in her pregnancy that there was an extremely high risk to her if she continued.

Terminating the pregnancy was floated by one of the doctors. It would have been legal due to the risk to her, but heavily stigmatized.

Her family was deeply Catholic. She was deeply Catholic.

She did not terminate. The risk became a reality.

So I'm here, and she's not.

I'm glad to be here.

It is hard to put into words the gratitude you feel to a mother who sacrificed herself entirely for you, and I'm not going to try here.

Because I'm also very angry.

Without in any way taking away from the courage and selflessness with which she bore her situation and which she showed in all aspects of her life

I don't believe she ever really felt like she had a true choice.

The stigma, the religious dogma, the judgement - everything she'd ever known - told her she could not save her own life.

Her parents would have, however sadly, believed she'd go to hell. Her family and friends and community would have judged her.

Everyone she'd ever loved believed it was wrong. And so she believed it was wrong.

Needlessly.

I don't know what choice she would have made if it had been a true choice.

Maybe she would have chosen me anyway. Maybe she would have chosen to stay for her two already-existing children and for all those who loved her so deeply.

But she should have had a real, true choice.

Would I trade being here for that?

In a heartbeat. Without hesitation.

My siblings could have grown up with their mother.

My grandparents could have seen their beloved daughter live out her beautiful life, instead of mourning her every day until their deaths.

Her brothers and sisters would not still thirty years later feel the pain of losing the sistre they loved so much.

She could have continued to bring the light to the world that she had always brought, that I have heard so much about.

My father perhaps would not have descended into the grief & guilt that destroyed him, our relationship with him, the innocence of our childhoods.

Now, I think about how my young nieces & nephews will grow up without her, without the kind of grandmother I had. That pains me too.

I grew up in the devastation of her death.

I've watched the consequences of it play out for thirty years.

I can see what might have been differently if she'd had a true choice and it snatches my breath away, to see the suffering that didn't have to be for the ones I love most.

I know that it is not my family, but it is also profoundly difficult to know that it is because of me.

Or to be more exact, because the world did not allow my mother her right to a true choice, and my being here is perhaps a result of that.

It's not a burden I'd wish on anyone

I wish that I could have told her. It's okay. Stay. Live. Be happy.

I wish I could know that she knew that that was more than ok.

Don't I want to be here? Don't I want to be alive, aren't I glad to live??

Now that I'm here, sure. But had I never been, what would I have lost? Nothing.

You can't miss what you never had. Can't lose anything when you never existed.

There's no pain or loss in not existing.

I didn't exist then, to want anything. I didn't exist to hope or wish or fear anything.

I didn't exist back then. Not me. There was a possibility. An idea, a hope maybe. Some cells, a process in her body. Not me, any more than a sperm was me or an egg was me.

*I" didn't become until much later. Til I was born.

My mother wouldn't have taken anything from me or cause me any pain by living for herself, because I didn't exist to lose anything.

There was so much pain, so much loss in losing her. Loss that will ripple down generations.

So I will say to my dying breath, as the person who only lives because she didn't abort, that whatever she thought or chose or did not chose, she should have had a real choice to abort.

That she should have felt that aborting me was valid and good a choice as not.

Everyone should feel that, and have real access to enact that choice without obstruction or shame or question.

Whether it is their actual life at risk, or not. A forced pregnancy can be the death of many things, not just the end of ther person's life.

Having me took away from the world everything that my mother could have given it.

Forcing someone to have a child against their will can take away what that person could be and bring if they had their choice, whether they live through the pregnancy or not.

Most of all it takes away their right - their inalienable right - to choose how they live their life in their own body.

A non-person, a hypothetical future event, the birth of someone who doesn't exist yet, doesn't have that right.

Other people, who claim to speak for the unborn do not have that right.

We all lose so much by it. It can cause such pain and suffering, for child-bearers, for children, for everyone.

Do not pretend to speak for the unborn.

Do not pretend to speak for the children born against their mother's will.

Do not pretend that you care for them while you hide misogyny behind dogma.

My mother deserved her right to a real choice.

Everyone does. Unconditionally.

As the child who could have been aborted, I tell you - to oppose that right, let alone work to criminalize it, is unforgivable.

I'd like to emphasize because I didn't say it loud enough in the original thread:

There doesn't need to be a tragic story or a threat to life to make abortion ok.

It can be simply because you don't want to have a child. That's all. You still have the right to a choice.

I told my sad story because:

a) it is important to me to counter the rhetoric of anti-choice folks, that claims that if the unborn could speak they would be anti-choice

b) forced pregnancies can really f*ck up lives in many ways and that needs to be recognized.

But:

There shouldn't have to be a tale of woe to justify bodily autonomy.

It's a right. An absolute right. It should be protected by law.

That's it. That's all.

Last thingL I want this point to be heard, but I don't particularly want to deal with blowing up on twitter.

I will probably lock my account down at some point, but I would like this still to be shared. Maybe use an unroll app and share from there if you would like to.]]

[honestlywtf04]

𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲

warning: hair pulling, rough sex, breeding, spanking once.

summary: nothing is better than birthday sex, especially when you're both stupidly in love.

a/n: this is short so please give me feedback. and do y'all want more smut?

after y/n managed to grab the giant cake and smash it on his face, he went to the upstairs bathroom to clean himself up. what he didn't expect was walking to his room to see her laying on his bed, wearing white lingerie that compliments her skin tone oh so well.

forgetting about his own birthday party, he's now thrusting into her as hard as he can. 'use me how you please, i'm yours. you have no limits' she told him which is how they got to this point, he didn't want to go too crazy, but he loved to go hard enough to remind her who she belongs to, even when it's unnecessary.

her face is now pushed down with her hands behind her back as he watches how she takes him so well. the sounds she's making, driving him insane. he pushes himself all the way in, his jaw dropping when she lets out the most angelic sound he's ever heard.

his chest now moving quickly causing him to stop his movements to catch a breath. he's taken by surprise when his slut of a girlfriend starts fucking herself on his cock. he bites his lip to avoid accidentally moaning too loudly.

"that's right baby, you look so sexy- oh fuck just like that," he grits through his teeth. he's been edging himself for the past hour, y/n being the only one having the orgasms.

this doesn't please her so she starts moving faster and being more vocal than usual. "do you like this?" she lifts herself up so she's on her hands and knees as she stays still shaking her ass teasingly making him grunt and smack her ass harshly causing her to whine.

he regains his composure when he pulls her hair and starts viscously thrusting into her. one arm wrapping around her entire body while the other is on her throat.

"i love how well you take me. my pussy will never disappoint. isn't that right princess," he taunts making her nod instantly. her moans increase when she feels herself release for what feels like the millionth time.

"i-i-fuck!" her eyes roll back making him slap her cheek a few times. "open your eyes baby, tell me what you want." her struggle to keep her eyes open is big but she manages to open them.

he pulls her more back, his chest now touching her back making her whine at the amount of his skin she is currently feeling. "c'mon love, what do you want?" he groans, getting closer and closer to releasing himself and this time he doesn't want to edge himself. he desperately needs his release.

"y-your cum. i wa-want your cum," she manages to let out and he smiles at her request. "where do you want it baby?" he's teasing and she knows it. he reaches down and starts rubbing her clit.

"inside me," she knows what she's risking, but she needs it. he snaps out of his dominant role and looks at her worriedly. "inside you? w-what about-"

"i don't fucking care, cum inside me. i love you," she moans as her legs start to weaken.

he speeds up his thrusts if that's even possible at this point, his dying wish was to hear those words fall out of her mouth. this is their first time having sex without a condom and they wouldn't change it for the world.

"i fucking love you y/n," he moans loudly, his eyes rolling back as his cock twitches multiple times before he shoots himself deep inside her, his mind going feral at the way she is pulsating around him.

he lets go of her and she collapses on the bed. he smiles and pulls out of her.

happy birthday to me he thinks to himself.

[mkfluffluv]

Keep The Secret?

MAINLY JAKE LOCKLEY X GN READER , SOME MARC SPECTOR AND STEVEN GRANT X GN READER

prompt : marc and steven had gotten themselves sick. luckily for them, they have a wonderful and loving partner who's willing to take care of them(you). unbeknownst to you, another person is taking care of them in their own way. (yes it's jake.)

i finally finished this and it ended up a lot longer than i had planned but i'm pretty okay with it, so, enjoy!

likes and reblogs appreciated, also leave me requests cause im running out of ideas!!

warnings(?) : fluff. maybe angst? but mostly fluff. my knowledge on DID is very limited but im hoping i didn't mess anything up and if i did, feel free to message me about it!!

word count : 2,705

masterlist

Here you are, preparing all of your boyfriends' pills for them cause they're too tired to get out of bed. Someone had coughed on Steven while on his way to the museum and now they're sick with a sweltering hot fever  and a horrid cough. They were constantly switching with each other because neither of them wanted to deal with the sickness and while yes, being sick without fronting is still being sick, it is still much better than actually having to experience a sick body. Sometimes you wonder why or how you had fallen in love with these two idiots.

"Will you both please just stop arguing and drink your medicine?" You demand from your very sick boyfriends who are currently quarreling with each other. A mirror was placed beside the bed where Steven was laying down on, where he is coughing every few sentences that he says to presumably Marc, as he tells him, pretty much begs him to take over for a few minutes so that he can stop feeling so bad at least a little bit. You can't hear Marc but from the way Steven is getting more and more exasperated by the second, he's probably being very stubborn and refusing to switch.

A bunch of toddlers those two are.

You run a hand through your hair and drag it down your face, letting out a groan in irritation. You’ve been by their side for hours now, making sure they’re getting enough rest and drinking their medicine and honesly, If you didn't love these two dorks, you probably would have left hours ago. But if you'd left, they'd just be arguing all day and not resting and that is the opposite of what you want these two to be doing.

After giving up on trying to get the boys to drink their pills, you approach Steven on the bed, pushing him down by the shoulders, forcibly tucking him in, and shushing him when he tries to say something about you treating him like a baby. "Please, love, just go to sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up." You tell him, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. Steven is quiet for a while but then sighs defeatedly and nods, knowing there's no point in arguing with you about it since he's already tired anyway. His head immediately sinks into the pillows as he relaxes and closes his eyes. You sit beside him, humming a soft tune while running your hands through his hair. His breathing slows in mere seconds.

Thank god. You were starting to get really tired of their bickering and if they were to go on any longer, you would seriously start contemplating using that neck pinch trick Marc taught you to get them to pass out already. Sighing in relief, you lift yourself from the bed and walk over to the small stove to start cooking up some soup for them to eat when they wake up.

However, as you were cutting up some carrots, you hear shuffling coming from the bed. Assuming that it's probably just Steven stirring in his sleep, you choose to ignore it and continue to cook.

But the shuffling continues and it isn't until you hear a creak on the floor that you turn your head to the other side of the room where possibly Steven is leaning against the wall trying to walk towards his desk.

Oh for the love of-

"Steven! I told you to rest, if you needed the pills you could've just-" Before you could finish your sentence, however, Steven had swiftly darted across the apartment towards you, as if he was never even sick. Suddenly there is a dagger that he had pulled out of who knows where threateningly close to your throat.

This is not Steven and you have a very good feeling that it isn't Marc either.

"Who are you?" A slight accent that isn't American nor British comes out of the man, his voice low and more gravelly than the others. Slowly, you place the knife back down on the cutting board and both of your hands come up to your chest, hopefully showing this stranger that you are now unarmed and not here to hurt anyone.

"I'm just here to take care of Marc and Steven. I'm their significant other." There is a pregnant pause after you say this like he's contemplating whether your words could be trusted or not. His eyes dart around the room. First, towards the soup on the stove, then the pills on the desk, and finally the small portraits of you and your boyfriends. He finally lets go of you, making you fall to the floor with how weak your knees felt after all that.

"God fucking damn it those idiots." The stranger says, the accent coming out of his mouth (your usually american and british lovers' mouth)  is something that would probably take a while to get used to. It surely took you a while to get used to Marc’s accent. The man drags his hand across his face and takes one deep breath before dropping down to the floor right next to you. "I'm very sorry about that." He leans sideways against the kitchen counter, a charming smile making its way up to his face. You notice that it's different from the way the other boys smile.

There's still a bit of confusion floating around in your head, way too many questions that you just can't seem to form the words to ask him. So instead, you just nod. "I can't really forgive you for threatening my life like that." You can still feel the blade close to your neck, merely only centimeters away from cutting it open and bleeding to death. You rub at the spot to get rid of the phantom feeling and steady your breathing. It's fine. You're not in danger anymore. Plus, you have a feeling this new guy wouldn't hurt you. His posture is no longer tense, now relaxed, and frailer considering the body is still very sick and the dagger was thrown across the room a few seconds ago. Whether it's because he trusts you or if it's because he's too weak to start anything right now, he doesn't look like he would hurt you.

"Care to explain why you suddenly attacked me though?" You dare to ask, to which the man laughs and then coughs violently into his arm. Out of instinct, you reach out to him but stop yourself. He may have the face and the body of your boyfriends but he is still a potentially dangerous and untrusting stranger.

Eventually, the coughing does stop and now he looks as tired as Marc and Steven did before. You can't help the clenching feeling in your chest at the sight of him. As if he can feel your pitying gaze, he turns to you again, his smile now softer. "I'm very protective of them. Thought you were a stranger. Plus my mind was all bleary so I couldn't think straight. Sorry." He apologizes again, this time you can't help but feel bad for him. You don't know why you suddenly trust this man after he'd almost slit your throat open but the care and love were so evident in his tone of voice and it warmed your heart to know that there's someone else close to them to care about those two idiots.

So you return his smile and nod, before getting up to your feet and offering a hand to him. He looks at it incredulously as if he's never seen a hand before. It's adorable but also kinda stupid for him to be this untrusting of an empty hand.

"Come on, get up. You're still sick and in need of rest. Plus I still need to finish that soup." You tell him, waving the hand in front of him for him to take.

He eventually does and you help him up to his feet, letting him lean on you when he nearly falls at the sudden dizziness erupting in his head.

"What's your name by the way?" You ask him as you slowly guide him back towards the bed. He coughs once into his hand and his face turns to look at you, the smirk back on his face before he responds:

"Jake Lockley, a pleasure to meet you."

-

"Can you promise to keep this a secret?" Jake asks you as you were scooping up another spoonful of soup to feed him. He insisted he didn't need to be fed by you but when you saw him shake as he held the bowl, you pretty much forced it out of his hands and started feeding him. You just wouldn't want soup all over his sleeping pants, that's all.

He flinches at the glare that you give him for even asking that. Keeping something as big as this a secret from your boys? No, absolutely not. Why would he even dare suggest that?

You voice these thoughts to him as you place the bowl of soup on the bedside table and he shakes his head. Jake turns his body so that he's facing towards you, staring deep into your eyes. He moves forward and grabs your now empty  hands, holding them tightly in his. The feeling of his calloused palm against yours makes your cheeks flush.

"Please. I swear I'm only doing this to protect them." He practically begs, your hands that are clutched tightly in his are starting to hurt with how tight he's holding them but not enough to be unbearable. You want to refuse. Marc and Steven deserve to know after all. They shouldn't be kept in the dark like this.

But when you open your mouth to tell him no, his head drops into your lap, his face now hidden in the fabric of your clothing, and his hands are still not letting go of their tight grip on yours as he lets out another quiet plea. "I just don't want them to know yet. Please." His voice is slightly muffled but sounds genuine enough for you to let out a defeated sigh. Damn him and his pleading voice.

"Fine." You respond. Jake's head immediately snaps up from its former position, his eyes that are staring into yours shine with adoration. You're taken aback by how that look makes you feel. Oh no. Not doing this again.

You shake the thoughts from your head and then clear your throat. The puppy eyes are simply only effective cause they're the same as your boyfriends'. That's all. There's nothing more to it.

Quickly, you take your hands away from Jake's, placing them back on your lap. "I promise to not tell them." His face beams up with joy and it reminds you a little bit of the way Steven would look whenever you pay attention to one of his ramblings and gosh does that make your heart go weak. You regain your composure though after mentally slapping yourself and focusing on the task at hand. "But you will tell them soon, right?" You ask him. "It just doesn't feel right to be lying about all of this."

"I know." Jake sighs, rubbing at his temples and massaging the area to ease the pain of his aching headache. "I know, it's just that I haven't figured out how to tell them without freaking them out." He rests his head against the headboard and closes his eyes. "I've done some things that they might not agree with."

Oh. You remember Marc and Steven telling you stories about them passing out in life-threatening situations and then waking up with people either dead or passed out around them, with their fists covered in blood. When asked, both of them refuse to admit who was at fault. It seems that they were both telling the truth. None of them did that. It was all just Jake. Somehow, this doesn't make you scared of him. He was only protecting the loves of your life, after all, even if you don’t agree with his way of doing it, you still appreciate it.

"I'm sure they'll understand." You say to him. You don't really want to give in to the voice that's telling you to hold him close. You don't. But right now Jake looks so much like a sad kicked puppy, with his head hung low and his fingers fiddle like he doesn't believe the words that you've said to him and you have this very strong and irresistible urge to pull him in for a long and comforting hug. You don't know if it's because the face you're looking at right now is the same one as your boyfriends' or if it's because of this stupid and conflicting feeling lying in your heart that you're sure to talk to Marc and Steven about soon cause there's no way you're not telling them about this.

Ah fuck it, it doesn't matter.

Giving in to your urges, you pull him into your embrace, holding him close to you and rubbing circles along his back to comfort him. You can feel Jake going tense for a second, definitely not expecting that from you, before he relaxes into your touch as he wraps his own arms around you. The hug might have looked awkward with the way you were both sitting on the bed but it's still pleasant, it feels safe, and it's everything Jake could've ever asked for.

The two of you hug for a while, settling into each other's arms without any conversation needing to be had. You stay like that until he falls asleep, probably exhausted after everything and you gently lay him down on the bed, tucking him in and by reflex, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

-

For the whole time that they were sick, Jake was the only one fronting. When asked about why that is, Jake's response was:

"Ask them when they remember the last time they were sick and were awake for more than half a day and they wouldn't know. That's cause I'm usually the one taking care of the body when we're sick." He had explained one night while downing the necessary pills for his recovery. Jake winced as he felt them go down his throat. "Once we're healthy enough, Marc or Steven are going to wake up and think they'd just slept through the days."

True to his word, when they've finally started to get better, Marc finally wakes up one bright morning, looking around at his surroundings and scratching at his head. You smile at the adorable sight and can’t help but to give him a quick kiss on his lips, morning breath be damned. He asked you what time and day it was as he always does when he wakes up, his eyes widened in shock. He faces the mirror beside the bed and asks Steven if he had been awake at all but by the look on Marc’s face, you can tell that Steven had told him that he wasn’t. Marc turns to you, clearly confused. "How did we even sleep for two whole days?"

When Marc asks this, you start to contemplate just telling him about Jake. You didn't want to lie to them. It wouldn't feel right for you to keep this all a secret from them cause Marc and Steven deserved to know. But it also wouldn’t be fair to Jake if you broke your promise.

Damn it.

It's real stupid of you to have grown so attached to Jake despite only meeting the man once and even knowing that you probably wouldn't be seeing him any time soon. It’s even stupider to lie to your boyfriends about this whole thing just because you wanted to keep a promise. But you had already promised and somehow, you trusted him with this.

So, you just press a kiss to Marc's temple and then hurry off to the kitchen, telling him that you’re getting him some soup. The thought of warm food in his belly is enough to make Marc forget about his question from before.

It’s fine.

Jake will explain it to them soon enough.

[wolken-himmel]

4k Followers Special

In which (Y/n) decides to perform at the Mostro Lounge to earn some money for renovating Ramshackle.

The song she has chosen? Dear Future Husband.

And rumours say that tickets are sold out.

Idea by @vallison-rea

"Is my superstar for the evening ready?"

Azul's excited voice rang through the changing room you currently occupied. The sound of the door being closed gently and his footsteps padding against the floor caused you to turn around and shoot him a small smile as soon as you lay eyes on him. Despite the anxiety that simmered in the depths of your stomach, the excitement that rushed through your veins left you unable to sit still — much to Grim's dismay, who was currently doing your make-up.

A restless huff escaped your lips when Azul appeared behind you, his gloved hands resting on your shoulders. His eyes watched you through the mirror in front of you as he waited for your answer.

Taking in a deep breath, you exclaimed, "Yes, I am—" Yet, the grin on your face disappeared when suddenly, a cloud of dust enveloping your head caused you to break down into coughs. Once the air cleared up, you found your cat companion grinning at you innocently, his paws smeared full with make-up. You shot him a glare. "Grim, that's enough powder!"

The cat monster waved you off and instead began dusting you with perfume. "Yada, yada... one can never wear enough make-up!" he muttered while drawing a lipstick from behind his back, causing you to swipe it out of his hands and firmly plant it on the table before he could cause further trouble.

Behind you, Azul let out a chuckle of amusement. "Are you nervous?" he asked and tilted his head to the side teasingly.

The corners of your lips trembled at his question. "Kind of—"

"You shouldn't be," he cut you off briskly, his eyes full of confidence as his gaze growing more intense. You gulped and sank into your seat, feeling the pressure on you growing, as did his grip on your shoulders. But before he could hurt you, he removed his hands and crossed them behind his back, a charming smile on his face. "Just give it your all. All the seats are sold out, and we wouldn't want to disappoint the customers, no?"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. "Yes, Azul..." A hum of satisfaction escaped his lips, and he turned around to leave you to your own devices. Yet, another matter that lingered in the back of your mind still wouldn't leave you be. So, before he could walk through the door, you suddenly piped up, "I'll get the money immediately after the show is over, won't I?"

The merman came to a halt, then slowly turned around to nod. "As promised, dear. As promised."

Satisfied with his answer, you averted your gaze to the mirror in front of you again, not noticing as Azul remained in the door frame, his arms crossed and his statue leaning against the frame.

Grim, who had been quietly rolling a lipstick between his paws so far, turned his attention to you and grabbed your hands with his paws. "Now, go out there and get us that money! I'm sick of sleeping on that dusty old mattress..." he exclaimed, his eyes full of high expectations. You were about to wave him off in mild annoyance, but were stunned into silence when his usually so boisterous blue eyes revealed a sheen of worry. "But— But! Beware of those simps, alright? Come back in one piece."

His genuine concern caused a smile to appear on your lips. "Don't worry about it, Grim. They're harmless," you muttered under your breath while patting his head.

Yet, the worry that laced his face still wouldn't disappear. "They better be," he growled, "or else the great Grim is going to tear their heads off!"

Before you could assure him that everything would be alright, Azul interrupted the moment by exclaiming, "Alright, now— showtime!" Without even waiting for a reply from your side, he pulled you out of your chair with the excitement of a child and led you down the hallway that led to the backstage area of the lounge.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes in amusement, practically being able to see Madol signs in his eyes.

Azul came to a halt just behind the curtains, where Jade was already waiting to press a microphone into your trembling hands. Both of them wished you good luck before retreating, leaving you on the dark stage all by yourself. Behind the curtains, you could already hear murmurs and whispers — you gulped at the thought of how many people must be be on the other side.

Suddenly nervous, you gazed down at yourself and smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles on your (F/c) dress. And just as you were sure you had eliminated the last flaw of your gown, the curtains began to move aside; the brightness of the lights turning on at the same time almost blinded you. Simultaneously, someone announced, "We present you now: (Y/n), Prefect of Ramshackle, performing the song 'Dear Future Husband'!" You recognised that voice as Jade's.

Once your eyes got used to the blinding lights, you realised just how many students were seated in front of you — so Azul hadn't exaggerated when he said that tickets for the show were sold out. You were even able to discern some familiar faces at the tables. Your knees suddenly grew weak, but determination flooded your thoughts when the music began to play from the speakers attached all around the lounge.

So, taking on last breath, your eyes then shot open, determined to give them their money's worth.

"Dear future husband, here's a few things you'll need to know if you wanna be~" you began softly while making your way towards the staircase that led down to the tables. If Azul wanted you to put on a show, then you would gladly fulfill his wish. Still clutching the microphone tightly in your hands, you ventured over to the closest table. "My one and only all my life~"

Your eyes fell on a familiar ginger-haired Heartslabyul student, who seemed to be recording a video of you. You sauntered over to him and shot him a wink, smiling right into the camera. "Take me on a date! I deserve a break~" Cater laughed along, as carefree as usually, and zoomed in when you blew him a kiss. "And don't forget the flowers every anniversary," you finished before moving on again.

Cater was grinning to himself as he lowered his phone and began furiously typing in hashtags. "#worthit, #everyonesgonnabejealous, #azulisagenius." Then, in utter satisfaction, he posted the video to his MagiCam account.

Your next victim sat right next to him, a fellow Heartslabyul member — good old Trey. A little chuckle escaped his lips when you grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. "'Cause if you'll treat me right, I'll be the perfect wife," you sang and made him spin you around, as if dancing a waltz. "Buying groceries— Buy-buying what you need." Before you parted again, he was sly enough to press a kiss to your knuckles.

The gesture caught you off-guard at first, but you quickly regained your composure after a few giggles. With a heavy heart, you removed your hand from his and continued along your way.

Ruggie came into view, and he looked excited when he noticed that your attention lay on him. So, once your free hand came down to rest on his shoulder, he began snickering, like he always did. "You got that 9 to 5," you chanted while playfully kneading his tense shoulder with your hand, drawing a relieved sigh from his lips. "But, baby, so do I~" A disappointed frown grew on his face when you removed your hand and sauntered away.

"So don't be thinking I'll be home and baking apple pies." A chuckle escaping your lips, you booped Epel's nose, who let out an annoyed grumble at your gesture. You couldn't help but swoon when an adorable pout appeared on his face, which served to only irritate him even further.

Your eyes roamed the room for your next subject — and they landed on Jamil. The poor Scarabia student sank into his seat and pulled the hood over his face when he noticed you approaching. But his attempt to disappear was fruitless with how you nonetheless wrapped an arm around him and put your chin on his head. "I never learned to cook," you sang, swearing that you could feel him tremble beneath you. "But I can write a hook, so sing along with me." Eventually, you took pity on the poor boy, and since Floyd — who sat next to him — seemed so eager to have you around him next, you let Jamil be.

Just as you got into the near vicinity of Floyd, he grabbed your arm and pulled you into his lap, much to your surprise. Nonetheless, you appreciated that his hold on you was loose enough to allow you to breathe properly and to escape should you want to. So, smiling, you chanted, "Sing-sing along with me, hey!" And indeed, Floyd hummed along, very reminiscent of a young child — but when he flashed his sharp teeth to you, you sank into yourself in fear.

A nervous smile on your face, you unwrapped yourself from his grasp and rose to your feet again. The second-year made a few attempts of grabbing you again, but you managed to evade his swipes and simply continued on your way through the tables.

"You gotta know how to treat me like a lady," you sang while intentionally bumping against Leona. "Even when I'm acting crazy." The beastman shot you an annoyed look, followed by an amused scoff.

Next to the dorm leader sat Jack, whose fluffy white hair you ruffled. "Tell me everything's alright~" you continued and hurried away before he could send you a threatening glare. The poor wolf remained frozen in his seat, his cheeks tinted a dark red.

As you walked past the Diasomnia table, you shot Sebek a wink, knowing his reaction would be hilarious. "Dear future husband, here's a few things you'll need to know if you wanna be~" you sang, accompanied by a few giggles. "My one and only all my life~" And indeed, the poor half-fae turned beet red, a series of stuttered insults escaping his lips.

Malleus' eyes were filled with hidden yearning as you seemed to walk right past him, but the pout on his face actually managed to make you turn around and approach him again. "Dear future husband, if you wanna have a special night walk," you cooed and patted his hand that openly lay on the table, fearing that a more daring gesture would get you killed by a certain retainer of his. "Tell me I'm beautiful each and every night." The dragon fae nodded eagerly and watched you intensely as you disappeared into the crowd again.

When you reappeared behind Epel and put a hand on his shoulder, a startled yelp escaped his lips. He sat there, frozen — unwilling to move his upper body left and right along with you to tye rhythm. "After every fight, just apologise. And maybe then I'll let you try and rock my body right," you sang jokingly, unable to take yourself seriously, resulting in a series of chuckles escaping your lips.

When you distanced yourself from Epel's table again, his eyes were filled with utter confusion. He even turned to Rook for help, but the hunter was busy laughing his soul out, especially when he gazed into the first-year's lost eyes.

"Even if I was wrong. You know I'm never wrong," you cooed and wrapped an arm around Deuce and Ace each. "Why disagree? Why, why disagree?" They nodded along to your singing, laughing and smiling as they always did. Deuce looked mildly nervous with how close you stood to him, and a relieved sigh escaped his lips when you removed your arms again and skipped off into the centre of the lounge.

"You gotta know how to treat me like a lady, even when I'm acting crazy~" you sang and twirled around in circles. The adrenaline pumped through your veins, and you were having the time of your life despite the doubts you had been plagued with earlier. "Tell me everything's alright~" Completely caught in the moment, you would have bumped against a table, if it weren't for an occupant of that particular table jumping up and catching you beforehand.

A gasp escaped your lips at how close of a call it had been. You soon where propped to your feet again by your saviour, who was none other than Lilia. You shot him a grateful smile. "Dear future husband, here's a few things you'll need to know if you wanna be~" you continued smoothly, all the while looking him deep in the eyes. For a moment, only the ancient fae and you seemed to exist. "My one and only all my life~" A charming grin flashed across his face when you bid him a goodbye with a curtsy.

Your eyes were fixated on Vil, your mind rumbling about what to do with him. Touching him in any way was a no-go — he would snap at you for bringing his hair, clothes, or make-up out of order. So, you simply shot him a wave, at which he quirked an eyebrow. "Dear future husband, make time for me," you sang, the lyrics causing his lips to quirk up in amusement. "Don't leave me lonely~" He waved you off, chuckling.

With Rook on the other hand, you decided to go all out. "And no, we'll never see your family more than mine!" you continued while grabbing his signature hat and lowering it onto your own head. Laughing, you struck a few poses with it.

A playful gasp escaped the hunter's lips, his face contorted into an expression that spoke of adoration. The way his amused green eyes seemed to hold you in place made it difficult for you to turn around and walk away, but you eventually managed to tear your gaze away from him, much to his disappointment. Unable to refrain from giggling, you returned the hat to its rightful owner.

Your feet somehow carried you back to the Diasomnia table, where you approached the only sleeping occupant, who managed to not be disturbed by all the noise around him somehow — Silver. You nudged his shoulder, causing him to fall into Lilia, who seemed amused by the whole situation. "I'll be sleeping on the left side of the bed," you cooed and shot Silver a wink when he awoke from his slumber. Due to how disoriented he seemed, it looked like he didn't have the faintest clue of what was happening.

"Open doors for me and you might get some kisses~" you sang as you walked past Jade, making sure to wiggle your eyebrows at him jokingly. The gesture caused a little chuckle to escape his lips.

"Don't have a dirty mind," you cooed and booped Kalim's nose. "Just be a classy guy." With how innocent the Scarabia dorm leader was, he began laughing and cheering for you as you continued to the next table.

There, you found your next victim — Azul. A grin occupied your face when you looked him dead in the eyes and sang, "Buy me a ring. Buy-buy me a ring, babe." You held your free hand out to him, causing him to chuckle in amusement. His eyes watched you intensely while you skipped to the adjacent table.

Riddle sat there, and his face already had turned red without you even doing anything — just looking at him and winking was enough to make his cheeks become as red as his hair. "You gotta know how to treat me like a lady, even when I'm acting crazy." Giggling, you bowed deeply — just like you had seen Deuce often do, but this time, the gesture held a teasing connotation to it. "Tell me everything's alright~" When you straightened your back again, you found steam of embarrassment coming out of the dorm leader's ears.

Proud of yourself, you carried on — your sights set on the floating tablet in a shadowy corner. "Dear future husband, here's a few things you'll need to know if you wanna be~" you chanted while drawing a heart onto the screen of the tablet with your index finger. "My one and only all my life!" No sound came out of the tablet's speakers, but you swore you could hear a sound akin to some wires short-circuiting.

The end of the song was nearing, and for that, you hurried back to the stage. Once having arrived there, you finished, "Future husband, better love me right~" Your voice rang through the large lounge, and you put every ounce of your remaining energy into the grand finale.

Eventually, the music came to a halt and faded out into silence. Your chest heaving up and down, you opened your eyes to find everyone frozen in their seats. Yet, that quickly changed, and the quietness that used to envelop the lounge quickly turned into defeaning applause. Students rose from their seats and clapped and cheered their souls out.

"Thank you, thank you!" you cried out happily and bowed.

Students threw roses onto the stage, causing a large smile to appear on your lips. Careful not to pick up a rose with a thorny stem, you grabbed the one that lay by your feet and twirled it between your fingers. By then, the applause had faded out, and everyone was watching you again, as if they had been enchanted.

"That was (Y/n) with 'Dear Future Husband'," the announcer piped up. "But one question remains: who will be her dear future husband?"

"Me!" almost everyone yelled out at once.

Your heart sank in dread when the guests all began glaring at one another, some expressing their hostility more openly than others. That was the moment you realised: you had messed up.

[asongofmarvelanddc]

Perfect Fit

PAIRING: Doctor Strange X Reader

WORD COUNT: 1438

WARNINGS: Just fluffity fluff fluff fluff

SUMMARY: Stephen wants to spend the morning in bed.

A/N: Not really proof-read because I cringe when I write fluff, but I'll do it tomorrow.

It’s been a while since Stephen’s been home in the morning. Most of the time he’s busy with whatever it is he actually does in the Sanctum these days now that Wong's the Sorcerer Supreme. You didn’t hear him climb into bed last night, so waking up to his arms around you, fingers intertwined with your own, is a more than welcome surprise.

Still groggy from sleep, you press a kiss on his hand before turning to face him. Your movements cause him to stir and he slowly blinks his eyes open.

“Morning,” you whisper, a soft smile on your face.

He groans and nuzzles his face into your neck, mumbling, “Morning breath.”

Of course.

You chuckle and begin to roll out of the bed, “Well, yours doesn’t exactly smell like a bed of roses, hun.”

He smiles and grabs onto your arm to stop you from getting out of bed.

“Stay? Please?” he asks, his voice still husky from sleep, “You know I’m only joking.”

You easily slide out of his hold and head for the bathroom, “Stephen, if I couldn’t tell when you’re joking, do you think we would’ve made it three years?”

"Eight if you count snap years."

You turn to him with a cocked brow, "What makes you think I didn't date other people?"

Stephen sits up, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Would you like me to play all those embarrassing voicemail messages you left on my phone during those five years?" he says as he reaches for his phone on the nightstand.

Your face drops and your cheeks begin to heat up. "You said you'd delete those."

"Those messages are basically you telling me how much you love me in like a thousand different ways," he puts the phone back down, "I'm never losing them."

You struggle to fight the smile forming on your lips. Even though he teases you about it, you can still remember how moved he was when he first heard those messages. He stayed up most of the night listening to them and as much as he could help it, he didn't leave your side for weeks after, wanting to be as close to you as possible.

“Please, come back to bed. Just for a few minutes."

“Hang on, I'm just brushing my teeth,” you continue heading for the bathroom , "You could do with some minty freshness too if I'm honest."

When you turn the handle of the bathroom door and open it, you’re immediately hit with a blast of ice-cold wind that nips at your skin and sends goosebumps up your arms. You can see the edge of a cliff in the distance with a steep drop off, and the sky is misty-grey. On the ground, the grass is dewy and wet from the cold.

With a heavy sigh, you close the door and turn to face Stephen, one hand on your hip and the other on the door handle. He’s sitting up now, his hands clasped over the duvet as he watches you.

“Stephen?”

“Yes?”

“Fix the damn door.”

He looks at you like he has no clue what you’re talking about, but you can see that mischievous glint in his eyes.

“There’s nothing wrong with the door,” he says in the most innocent voice he can muster up. Then in the next second he flashes you a grin and winks.

You want to stay annoyed at him, but he’s too charming to resist.

“Fine, I’ll come back,” you say as you walk back to the bed and climb in, “But only for a few minutes because your morning breath might actually kill me.”

He chuckles and pulls you in close as you settle in next to him. You immediately rest your head against his chest, one hand taking his, and the other sliding around his waist. You’re never more comfortable than when you’re cuddled up to him, listening to his heartbeat while you lay in comfortable silence.

You close your eyes for only a second when you feel something land on your lap over the duvet. It's a small bottle that rattles when you pick it up.

"Mints," you chuckle as you open it and pop one in Stephen's mouth and another in yours, "You know these'll only last so long, right?"

"Like I said; I only need a few minutes."

He has a suspicious grin on his face, but despite your confusion, you don't ask him about it. There's clearly something up his sleeve.

"I got you something yesterday."

"Did you?" you ask almost absent-mindedly as you trace the scars on his fingers with your own.

He loves it when you do that. His hands are more sensitive than the average person, so your soft touches against his skin are not only soothing – they send shivers down his spine.

"Mhm," he nods as he begins gesturing with his sling ring.

A small portal opens and something falls out, right into Stephen's outstretched hand. He opens his grip and you freeze when you see what he's holding.

Nestling in his palm is a dark-blue, velvet box.

You glance up at Stephen in shock then back to the box.

"Stephen?"

"Yes...?"

"What is that?"

He hesitates before offering an answer, "Earrings?"

You can feel the smile on your lips growing even though your heart is in your throat.

Then he opens the box to reveal a diamond ring.

You suck in a sharp breath. "I don't think it's safe to wear a rock that big on your ears," you joke, trying to keep your cool.

He chuckles softly and moves the box closer to the two of you. His hand are shaking, and he's keeping his eyes on the ring, unable to look at you. He's always that way when he's particularly nervous. You rest your head against his shoulder, hoping the contact will calm some of his nerves – and your own.

"I was walking around last night, trying to find the right words to go with this ring," he says, "All I could come up with is that generic shit you hear in wedding vows and Hallmark movies."

"They're pretty romantic though."

"Yeah, I guess," he sighs as he rests his head against yours, "But we're always honest with each other, so I can't lie and say that you're perfect."

You narrow your eyes and frown, "Weird way to convince someone to marry you."

"But I'm not lying when I say that you're perfect for me."

You turn to face him, your heart bursting with happiness, and press a kiss on his jaw. He looks at you and smiles, pressing his lips to your forehead.

"I'm a big believer in fate these days," he says, finally looking into your eyes, "And you're the only person I've ever met who...fits, you know? And I don't mean physically, I mean like–"

"Mystic shit."

He chuckles again and nods. "Mystic shit."

He gazes at you for a few seconds, his eyes filled with nothing but warmth and adoration, and you swear you've never felt more loved than in that one moment.

"Saying 'I love you' doesn't convey enough anymore. Not with you," he says, "You've said it in a thousand ways and I wanna say it in a thousand more so..." He brings the ring right between the two of you and holds it up, "Will you? Marry me?"

You're surprised by the sincerity in his tone. It's a genuine question he's asking, as if he truly doesn't know what your answer will be. His beautiful blue eyes are searching yours for any hints, and you can see that he's waiting with baited breath. That is when you know without a doubt that he's all you'll ever want.

You crack a smile as you raise a hand to cup his cheek, running your fingers through his curls and back down to his jaw.

"Seeing as you believe we're mystically fated to be together, I'm kinda stuck with you now, aren't I?"

He laughs in that pure, non-sarcastic way that he does when he's full of joy. It melts your heart and leaves you mesmerised by the sight of him. And it's so infectious that you can't help but join him.

He removes the ring from the box, and with shaky hands, slips it on your finger. You almost can't believe it's real as you lean your head against Stephen's shoulder and admire it with him.

"This could blind a man," you whisper, dazzled by the way it sparkles in the sunlight.

Stephen chuckles and kisses the top of your head.

"Only the best for you."

[gurugirl]

How To Get Out of a Ticket*

Summary: You get pulled over by Officer Styles and you'll do anything to get out of a ticket. 2.7k words

Warnings: Officer Styles isn't nice and he's quite a (big) dick, smut, degradation, cheating, unprotected sex, mean Harry, power imbalance, you causing a mess in Officer Styles' backseat, NSFW, 18+ only

cop!harry masterlist

You weren't accustomed to driving on the left side of the road so you were trying your best to keep in your lane while searching for where the windshield wipers toggle would be as it began to lightly rain.

"Fuck!!!" You shout into the quiet car as you haphazard your way down the road. Your vacation to London started out perfectly and tonight was no different. You'd been able to meet up with friends you met at college and reminisce. It was your first time in the UK and your first time driving on the left side of the road.

You pressed the brakes as you came to a sharp corner, still searching for the toggle for the wipers to activate, it was difficult seeing out the rain-droplet-covered windshield. You slowed down too quickly, though as the car you were driving began to skid a little. When you'd regained control of the car you kept yourself at a slower pace while still reaching around behind the steering wheel to feel for the wipers toggle.

Suddenly there were lights flashing behind you and you realized you were being pulled over. Fuck fuck. This car didn't even belong to you. It was your friend's that you'd borrowed.

You pulled your car over to the side of the narrow street and the police vehicle behind you pulled in near your rear bumper.

After a few minutes of you taking deep breaths the police officer arrived at your window and tapped, motioning with his finger to open it.

You rolled your window down and planted a big smile on your face and tried to get your story straight in your mind, but telling the truth was probably going to the be the best way out of this.

When he leaned in, he shined a light into the car and asked you for your driver's license. His voice was deep and smooth. You couldn't make out his face just yet with the light shining at you.

You remained quiet until he leaned in again, handing your California ID back to you. He turned off the light and that's when you saw his handsome features.

"You were driving quite erratically back there. Care to explain what's going on?" He placed his elbows into your open window and ducked down enough to hear you, but with the rain and splashes that were dripping down into the car was distracting to you both.

"I am not used to driving on this side of the road. I'm so sorry!" You explained. The officer uncrossed his arms and dipped his face back down again to look at you.

"Let's go sit in my car. It'll be easier than standing out here in the rain."

You followed him to his car and got into the passenger seat where you tried explaining what'd happened but you were struck by how gorgeous this man was. You could see tattoos peaking out from the edge of his cuffed shirt along his forearm, his light green eyes taking in your own appearance, dark curls, now wetted with rain, sharp jawline...

You adjusted yourself in the seat in a way that allowed your skirt to ride up dangerously high, but not so that it would appear you'd done it on purpose. Maybe you could flirt your way out of this. Or who knows, maybe you could wind up getting lucky tonight after all, as that was your goal when you went out in the first place.

You didn't miss the way the officer looked down at your bare thigh and then back up to your eyes as you spoke about how you couldn't find the wiper toggle.

"When we're done here, do you think you could help me find the toggle? I know it sounds so dumb, but I just don't know where it is. I'm so dumb sometimes. I'm sorry officer." You smile up at him and bit your lip.

His face remained stoic and calm but he did allow his gaze to drop to your lips.

"I can take a look when we're done here. That car you're driving, is not registered to you, nor is it a rental. Who's vehicle is that?" He speaks with his eyes pinned on you.

"It's my friend's actually. I'd really like to avoid a ticket or anything at all if possible." You lick your lips and drag your eyes over his uniform and broad stature.

"And how would you avoid such a fate? I should be writing you a ticket right now." He cocked his head in wait for your answer.

"I'd be so thankful if you didn't. I don't know what I could do to avoid getting a ticket. Is there any way to talk you out of it?" You noticed his name tag pinned over the breast pocket of his shirt, Officer Styles.

"You should be thankful. But I don't accept bribes via talk. If you're plan is to talk your way out of it then you're out of luck." He furrowed his brows as you wiggled a bit in your seat, angling yourself toward him.

"I see. Well, Officer Styles, is there anything I can do if talk is off the table?" You gulp hard. You were really pressing your luck here. You could get thrown in jail for your behavior.

Officer Styles pulled his eyes from you and leaned forward toward where a black box sat on his dash. He flipped a metal switch down and the green lights that blinked along the front dimmed down and only one red light remained lit. He turned back to you and put his hand through his hair as he looked at your mouth then back down to your thighs, which were now quite exposed from the position you were seated in. When you saw his attention on your thighs you parted your legs a couple of inches in invitation, if he felt so inclined.

"I have something in mind. But I'll need you to comply fully. No talking back, no smart mouth, just do as I say and I'll let you go without a fine."

Your eyes widened and you nodded at him as he slid his warm palm over the inside of your thigh and upward into your skirt. You opened your legs further for his access as the officer turned his whole body toward you.

"Okay. Good." He pinched at your thigh as he told you the rules, "We're going to move into the back seat and you're going to ride my cock like the little slut you are. But if I hear one bratty thing come out of your mouth I'm not going to let you come. Instead, I'm gonna fuck your mouth raw until you can't see or speak. Understood?"

You nodded and squeaked out a whine. Officer Styles was so fucking hot and you were going to get fucked by him in the backseat of his police vehicle. His dominance was a turn on and you wanted to comply so he'd be pleased with you.

You both exited the car and climbed into his back seat. You were immediately being dragged across the seat into the officer's lap where he pushed his lips onto yours, licking at your mouth, causing you to open up for him. The kiss was frantic and hard and you whined again, feeling his hardness poke at your center. He flipped your skirt up and grasped onto your ass, squeezing incredibly hard making you moan into his mouth. You ground down over him and he tilted his hips upward allowing you more friction from his cock.

Suddenly Officer Styles grabbed you by your hips and moved you off of him and began undoing his belt and trousers, pulling them down just enough so that he could pull his thick cock out through the front opening of his briefs.

You waited patiently for him as you watched his hard cock sway with it's heavy weight. You couldn't wait to sink down on him and feel it inside of you.

"Alright, now climb back up. Gonna show you how sluts get treated when they try to bribe cops." He spread his legs and planted his feet flat on the floor of the backseat.

You climbed over him, feeling your panties already soaked. He was hot and bossy and his cock looked very delicious. When you'd settled over him he slid his fingers into the band of your thong and ripped at it, causing the fabric to fall away from you. Now your bare, wet pussy was nudged onto his his thick and wide cock. You rocked over him again, wanting to feel him against you.

He smacked your ass hard, causing a shocking sting to travel down over your body. It rocked you forward into him and you moaned. He did it again as he leaned into you and bit down over your bottom lip.

"Fuck, you're already so wet for me, aren't you? Needy little slut, needing to get fucked by a cop, huh? So, climb on. Let's see how much you can handle."

You let out a groan as you brought yourself up and held onto the officer's strong shoulders. He held his hard prick up to your hole and swiped around a bit, nudging his abundant head up to your clit and then back down to you dripping entrance. He sighed as you began to sink down over him and you moaned loudly at the feeling of the stretch.

You had to move up and down a bit to really get adjusted and to finally sink down over his entire length, but once you were seated firmly onto the officer's lap with his cock tucked firmly inside of you, he showed no mercy as he began fucking up into you, smacking his groin into you at each thrust.

Your mouth parted and you were being bumped up quite violently with the force of his cock inside of you, sliding through your walls and pushing into you so fucking deeply caused you to see Jesus Christ himself. You'd never been fucked like this before. His feet planted and thighs working his hips as they thrust, you could do nothing but take it.

"Fuck! Oh my god!" Was all you could get out before he smacked your ass again.

"Taking my big cock into your little cunt like a good slut." Officer Styles grunted out. You couldn't make much noise because air was being punched out of your throat each time he drilled himself up into you.

The slick sounds of your cunt being smacked into and Office Styles' occasional grunts and dirty words were the only noises filling his car.

When the officer slowed his pace after cursing you could tell he was on the verge of coming. His slower pace allowed you to moan and gasp at the repeated forceful intrusion of his long cock, reaching deep inside of your tummy.

"Mmm... Feels so good." You moaned and keened as your clit was dragging over the fabric of his briefs that he'd left on for ease, his slick cock poked through the opening of the front, buried deeply into your cunt.

His hands grasped at your thighs and he moaned when he looked down at where you two were connected, his girthy shaft disappearing into your pussy at each thrust.

"You've been a good little cock slut for me, so I'll let you come this time." He angled his hips upward sharply and you yelped at the pinch it caused inside of you. Officer Styles was too deep for you. Normally you'd have told whatever guy you were fucking that it was too much, but you wouldn't dare tell Officer Styles to stop. He was doing you a favor by letting you get out of a ticket and letting you come, so you wouldn't complain at how deep he reached and how it ached in your tummy when he thrust into you sharply like he did just then.

"Thank you, sir! I want to come. I'll be a good cock slut for you!" He rolled his eyes to the back of his head as he looked up toward the ceiling of his cop car. Seeing your drenched hole take him in was sending him over the edge too quickly and he needed to pace himself so you could come around him. He loved the feel of women coming around his cock, it made his own orgasm that much better.

"Then come. Fucking come on my cock. Let me see you." He brought his gaze to yours as he slurred out his words. He was losing his mind having you around him like this. He'd fucked many women, it wasn't hard in his position. Not only was he a man in uniform, but he was attractive and confident. He'd rarely ever been turned down. He got all the pussy he wanted, when he wanted it. On the regular. But he really enjoyed fucking your tight little pussy with your tiny skirt flipped up over your hips. You looked so good stuffed full of his cock.

The officer's sharp strokes up into you caused you more pain but it turned into euphoria paired with the friction your clit received from his briefs. You began to shake and moan loudly, your heart rate picked up and you threw your head back in ecstasy as your orgasm crashed through you violently. You dripped down over the officer's pants and over his briefs, soaking him all over and even onto the seat below. He'd need to change his briefs as soon as he got home before his wife saw the mess you'd caused.

He released his orgasm into you, coming when you squeezed over his cock with your pretty little whines and moans in his ears. Officer Styles groaned into the car when the force of his climax throttled him. He held you down on him as he came inside of you, whimpering his own curses and praises into your ears.

When your brain collected itself the officer smacked your thighs, "Up you go."

You shakily climbed off of him and watched as his come spilled out onto his pants and onto the seat of his car. You covered your mouth, eyes wide, hoping he wouldn't be mad.

"Goddamnit!" He shouted as he wiped over his pants and then looked at you. You didn't know it would be so messy, and it wasn't your fault that you dripped him out like that so you stayed silent, waiting for his next comment.

He grasped at your chin and shook his head, "Couldn't have been helped, could it? You're just a simple cock slut who didn't know any better. Here." He leans down and grabs your torn thong and stuffs it into your hands.

"Can't have my wife finding your panties in my car, now can we?" He chuckled and tucked himself back in before redoing his belt.

You take your wet panties and ball them up into one of your palms and try to open the door but it's locked from the inside.

"Hold on. I'll open up your door from the outside, just wait here." The officer steps out of the vehicle, slamming the door behind him before rounding his car and opening up your door.

"Now, you needed help finding the wiper toggle?" He says as you climb out.

"Yes. Please, if that's alright, sir." You follow him to your car and he scrunches himself into the tiny car and turns on the engine before easily finding the nob to turn on the windshield wipers. He points to where you find it, "Right here is the switch. Turn it toward yourself to increase the speed, away to decrease and turn off." He climbs out and motions for you to get back into your friend's car.

When you've sat into your seat, the officer is still standing there, holding onto the door, waiting for you to get situated. He watches you with a frown and leans over you to buckle you in.

"Not too smart are you? Now I've just potentially saved your life by buckling you in. You owe me. Take this." He hands a card to you and it's got his department info on it, along with his name and a number. Harry Styles.

"Thank you, officer. Again. For everything." He keeps his face hardened but you see the smallest edge of a smile creep onto his lips as he closes the door and walks back to his car, which you watch in your rearview mirror until he's completely out of your site and inside of his own vehicle.

Check-in*

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