#don't mind his grimace he is having a fun time trust

[dispotatorulzz]

Back from my shift in the yaoi mines

Shout out to my . Enablers <3

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Brother's Best Friend - Part 7

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

A/N: Yay we're finally back with our favorite BBF! This chapter was inspired by a photo of Glen at an amusement park that's been floating around recently. If anyone could convince me to step foot into a haunted house, it would be Jake.

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: Haunted house attraction with mild (fake) gore, swearing, SLOW BURN YOU'VE BEEN WARNED DON'T COME FOR ME XD

WC: 3000+

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Masterlist

“I don’t do haunted houses,” you say when Jake makes the suggestion for the fourth time that afternoon.

He and Bradley have just returned from the river log ride completely soaked and stupidly giddy. Jake raises his eyebrows at you. “You’ll go on the tallest roller coaster in the park but you’re afraid of a couple of zombie clowns?”

You cringe. “What the fuck are zombie clowns?”

Jake shrugs. “Whatever they are. It’ll be fun.”

“You’re really selling it,” you respond dryly. “But I think I’ll stick to the funnel cake.” You nod toward the stand a few yards away.

“You already skipped out on the log ride,” Bradley complains.

You eye his still-dripping shorts with a grimace. “It’s barely 60 degrees,” you say, tugging up on the zipper of your hoodie for emphasis.

Jake plants himself across from you at the bistro table and leans into it to get your attention. “You don’t actually want to sit here by yourself for another hour, do you?”

You shrug, glancing around. “I don’t mind, actually,” you say, your gaze drifting with the crowd as you pick out the best looking males. “I got asked out twice while you two were gone.”

Jake makes a disgruntled sort of face like he’s getting impatient. “Who asked you out?” he says with a hint of distaste as though he already disapproves. He glances around at the crowd of passersby suspiciously.

“Well, they’re gone now.”

Jake lets out an irritable sigh and looks back at you. “Come on, you’re not a wimp, Bradshaw.”

You shake your head. “That’s not going to work.”

“Let’s just go, Jake,” Bradley says. “We can’t force her.”

Jake stares at Bradley. “Didn’t you hear her? She’s being approached by random men. We can’t just leave her here.”

Bradley snorts. “Why not?”

Jake appears uncomfortable, but only for a moment. He shifts his weight in the chair and turns back to you. “I distinctly remember all three of us at Castle Frankenstein like ten years ago.”

“Mm-hm,” you reply. “And, since then, I don’t do haunted houses.”

Jake grimaces. “Why not?”

You give him a flat look. “You don’t remember?”

Jake furrows his brows and shakes his head.

“Oh yeah!” Bradley exclaims. “Good times.”

You stare at your brother crossly and then roll your eyes.

Jake glances between the two of you inquisitively. “All I remember is getting hot dogs right after,” he says.

You sigh. “You two assholes told me it wouldn’t be scary and then, after luring me in, you took off laughing! You left me behind to do the whole thing by myself.”

Bradley is chuckling smugly, but Jake looks mildly horrified. “Wow, we were shitheads,” he says with a cringe.

“Dude, we’re still shitheads,” Bradley points out.

Jake looks up at his friend with a wince and then rubs his forehead guiltily. “Y/N,” he says. “I promise you that, if you come, we’re not gonna ditch you.”

“Speak for yourself,” Bradley says with a playful grin.

Jake gives him a stern look before glancing back at you. “I promise I won’t ditch you.”

You watch him skeptically, your arms folded over your chest.

“You trust me, don’t you?” he asks.

You purse your lips, trying not to be swayed by the slight squint of Jake’s eyes when he gives you a hopeful smile. You can’t help but daydream for a moment. You picture yourself being chased by zombie clowns with Jake by your side, holding your hand. And, if they’d get too close, maybe he would knock them out to keep you safe.

“Come on, sugar,” Jake says, interrupting your thoughts. He starts rising from him seat and holds out a hand for you. “We can use Bradley as a shield.”

You snort while Bradley shakes his head with a chuckle. “You can try,” he replies, starting for the haunted house.

You let out a sigh and take Jake’s hand, letting him drag you out of your chair. “I’m already regretting this decision,” you mutter.

Jake laughs. “This is gonna be fun!”

…

You gulp nervously as you step into the darkness. The moment the doors close behind you, your hand reaches out for one of the guys, making sure you're not alone. Somebody gives you a pat on the arm, silently reassuring as you advance. Suddenly, a loud bang to your right makes you jump, and you hear Jake's snicker right before he moves behind to lay a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Wicked,” you hear Bradley say as he travels slightly ahead of you. You follow your brother with Jake close behind, probably much closer than he would be in broad daylight, especially with Bradley just a few steps away.

“Remember,” Jake mutters from behind. “If you don’t run, they won’t chase you.”

You whimper. “Who won’t chase me?”

In the sparse, flashing lights, you see your brother take off down the hallway, setting off several animatronics as he goes. You slow your pace and Jake, who is still sopping wet, walks right into you. The sudden chill of his saturated clothes takes you by surprise and you yelp, springing away from him.

Jake leaps after you to grab your arm when you nearly trip over the cadaver that falls out of the wall and right into your path. “Having fun?” he asks facetiously as he helps you regain your balance, and you can sense the grin on his face without even seeing it.

“I hate you for making me do this,” you hiss.

Jake wraps an arm around your shoulders and gives them a squeeze. “You’re doin’ great, sweet cheeks.”

You wince at the cold seeping through your shirt and wriggle out of his grasp. “Seresin, you’re all wet!”

“Sorry,” he mutters sheepishly.

Just then, a large gust of air hits you from the side and you scream, flinging yourself right back into Jake’s arms. Jake pulls you in immediately and spins you away, blocking the air current with his back. But your relief is short-lived because, out of nowhere, two clowns with melting faces come barreling toward you with their arms outstretched.

You scream and, despite the sudden weakness in your limbs, start sprinting down the dimly lit corridor, completely forgetting Jake's instructions.

Jake catches up to you quickly and when the clowns all but overtake you, he curls his arm around your waist and practically lifts you off the ground as he runs.

When you finally round the bend and lose the clowns, Jake slows down and releases you, letting you catch your breath as he places his hands on his hips and takes a look around. “That was awesome,” he says with a huge smile.

You’re still gasping for air when you look up at him with a scowl. “You’re a lunatic if you enjoyed that.”

He claps you on the back. “Don’t worry, darlin’. We’re almost half-way through.”

“We’re not even half-way done?” you whine.

Jake chuckles. “Admit it, you’re having a blast,” he says.

You whimper quietly when he motions for you to follow him down another dark hallway. “I am never letting you talk me into this nonsense again,” you grumble, staying close behind him just in case another zombie clown pops out of the shadows.

But what you do not anticipate is the vibrating floor that makes you jerk backward, nor the fog that suddenly floods the corridor, nor the alarming screams that attack from all directions, making it impossible to communicate. You feel the floorboards shift underneath your feet and you hold out your arms to stabilize yourself. You stagger backward into a wall, and it rotates behind you, further disorienting you.

“Jake?” you cry, realizing that you’ve lost him in all the commotion. But your voice is drowned out by the continuous screaming still reverberating all around you.

In the flashes of light, you can see dozens of hands rattling a chain-link fence that looks like it won’t hold for very much longer. You try to push your way back through the wall – the way you came in – but it doesn't budge, meaning you’re stuck in this room until you find another way out.

“Jake!” you yell again, terror rooting you to the spot. The fence to your right finally rips open and gangly arms start stretching out toward you, making you jolt backward. You shriek, moving along the wall slowly because you’re too afraid to fall into another trap.

You reach the end of the chamber, which opens up to a tunnel, and whimper tragically. Going in will surely mean that you will have to complete the haunted maze without Jake, but the tunnel is probably the only way out of this room.

You only have a second to deliberate however, because at that moment, the fence behind you comes crashing down and a horde of zombies escapes. In the shadows, it looks like there might be more than half a dozen of them stumbling in your direction, tripping over one another to get to you.

If you don’t run, they won’t chase you. If you don’t run, they won’t chase you.

But the zombies are still coming, their hideous shrieks even more off-putting than their decaying faces.

You lunge into the tunnel and sprint faster and faster even as the passageway dips and winds and darkens. At a certain point, you are forced to stop running because it gets too dark to find your way without holding your hands out to feel the curve of the walls.

And then you hear his voice.

“Y/N!”

“Oh my god! Jake!” you screech.

“Y/N?” he yells back.

You start pushing on the solid wall before you because it sounds like he’s right on the other side. “Jake, where are you?” You can hear the zombies gaining on you further up the tunnel and you sob, “Jake, please get me out of here.”

Suddenly, a door creaks open to your right and you start, cowering from the blinking red light that filters into the pitch black passage. But then you see Jake’s broad-shouldered silhouette enter through the opening and, in your relief, you throw yourself right into him, burying your face into his chest as his arms close around your back. His grip tightens as you clutch onto the front of his soaked shirt, and you can feel his mouth over the top of your head. “I’ve got you,” he mutters into your hair. “I’ve got you.”

But before you can sink into the feeling of having Jake Seresin’s strong arms supporting your trembling frame, you hear the sound of footsteps as the zombies come hurtling through the tunnel. Without a word, Jake pulls you sideways, tucking you and himself behind the open door. He brings a finger to his lips when he sees that you’re about to cry out, and you hold your breath, watching the flashing lights illuminate the exhilaration in his eyes.

You close your own eyes as the zombies near, deciding that no amount of attention from Jake is worth participating in this traumatizing experience. And you promise yourself that you will never be swayed by his stupid, irresistible smile again.

That’s when you feel his body brush up against yours. You open your eyes to see his face hovering over your own, watching you intently as the zombies race by your hiding spot. His mouth curls into a smirk when it becomes apparent that his plan has worked as expected. You try your best to concentrate on the direct threat of flesh-eating zombies and not on his leg that’s pressed into your thigh, or his hand that you suddenly notice is gripping your hip, but it isn’t easy prioritizing escape when his eyes are dancing with delight only about three inches from your face.

You want him to kiss you. You want him to kiss you so badly. Right here in the darkness, concealed behind a heavy, wooden door, surrounded by a dense mist and a musty smell, with the added ambience of distant screams in the background. But, of course, you aren’t going to voice this desire. Because that would be more terrifying than getting eaten alive by a bunch of zombie clowns. So, instead, you say, “Get me the fuck out of here, Seresin.”

Jake nods, stepping away from you slowly, almost reluctantly. He holds his arm out to direct you out of the tunnel through the splintered door. He leads you past the holographic apparitions that float eerily along the walls, through the hall of warped mirrors that make your eyes hurt and your head spin, and over the various trap doors in the final stretch of your journey.

But he stops when you get to a dark, narrow split between two concrete walls. “This is the exit,” he says with a grimace. “Sorry,” he adds.

You shake your head. “I’m not going in there.”

“There’s no other way out.”

You stare at him in horror. “I’m claustrophobic.”

Jake drags a hand over his face. “That’s not good,” he says.

You feel yourself start to panic so you lash out by slapping him on the shoulder. “How could you not know that?”

Jake shrugs. “I forgot, I guess.”

Your breathing accelerates as your heart pounds painfully against your ribcage. “I hate your guts, Seresin,” you mutter. “You’re going to pay for this.”

In response, Jake gives you a very broad, very happy smile, as though you didn’t just tell him that you despise him.

“What?” you say heatedly.

Jake continues grinning. “You’re mad.”

“Yeah, I’m mad! Why are you so happy about it?”

He shakes his head. “No reason.”

You glare at him. “You should fear my wrath.”

He bites his lip, watching you affectionately. “It’s definitely the scariest part of this whole place.”

“I’m angry!” you yell, although you feel a fit of laughter start to bubble up in your chest.

Jake tries to keep a straight face. “Okay, but, could you be angry in there?” He nods at the chasm leading toward the exit, his eyes scanning the area behind you. “Because the zombies are coming.”

He ushers you into the fissure between the walls, keeping his hand on your back as you make your way forward. The only thing that makes up for this stressful conclusion to an already harrowing adventure is that his fingers seem to slip further down your back the farther you walk, trailing past the waistline of your jeans and stopping in the vicinity of your back pocket.

“See?” he says cheerily as the gap between the walls begins to narrow. “It’s not that bad.”

You try to concentrate on the light touch of his fingers as he hooks a couple of them into the back pocket of your jeans rather than the cracking walls rising up on either side of your body that seem to be closing in on you the deeper you go.

“Just so you know, there’s going to be a vibrating floor tile somewhere up ahead,” Jake says quietly, very close to your ear. “It’s coming up.”

You look over your shoulder sharply. “No,” you respond curtly, as if you could will this particular contraption away.

Jake squeezes himself in between your chest and the wall, his fingers regrettably slipping out of your pocket. The space is so tight that, no matter how much you press you backs into the walls, your bodies are still touching. “You can do this,” he says. “I’m right here.”

You frown at him, annoyed and love-sick all at once. Why did he insist on you coming? Why did he bring you along knowing he’d have to babysit you the entire time? Unless he doesn’t mind being with you. Perhaps it’s what he was hoping for.

Jake’s eyes skim worriedly over your face. “Are you okay?” he asks.

You draw in a wavering breath, content to let him fret for another several seconds over your wellbeing. Finally, you respond, “If we survive this hellhole, I’m going to murder you.”

Jake chuckles, placing his hands on your shoulders. “If we survive this hellhole, I’m getting you two funnel cakes.”

You let out a resolute sigh and nod. “Make it three. I want one of each flavor.”

Jake grins. “You got it.”

You bring your hands up to push at his chest, squirming in the compact space against his shirt. “How are you still wet?” you say irritably. “We’ve been in here for hours.”

Jake makes a face. “It’s been like six minutes, actually.”

You groan. “And this is why I don’t do haunted houses.”

…

Finally – finally ­– you step out into the cool, breezy sunshine with Jake on your heels. Bradley waves at the two of you from across the walkway, coming over to greet you.

“Took you a while,” Bradley remarks.

You grimace at him. “It’s only been like six minutes,” you retort sourly.

Jake looks like he might be trying to suppress a laugh.

“As if you took off again,” you reprimand your brother.

Bradley shrugs. “The trick is to race through these things and not stop to smell the rotting flesh.”

You shudder. “I need to sit down; my legs feel like jelly.”

“Log ride?” Bradley says to Jake. “While this one recuperates?” He nods toward you with a grin.

Jake pinches at his still soaking shirt and then wrinkles his nose. “I think I’ll sit this one out,” he says. “Promised your sister I’d get her funnel cake.”

“Three,” you remind him.

Jake graces you with an amused smirk. “I would love to see you try to get through three whole funnel cakes.”

As Bradley takes off in the direction of the log ride, you glance at Jake apprehensively. “You could go with him,” you say, cursing yourself for even suggesting it because all you want is to spend some time alone with Jake – not inside of a nuthouse.

Jake gives you a quick smile before starting for the funnel cake stand. “Don’t want to,” he responds.

You fall into step with him, wondering why he’d rather hang around you than his best friend. As he’s ordering the funnel cakes, you decide that you’re reading too much into things and he’s probably just hoping to dry off before going on the next ride, and that his decision to skip the log ride has nothing to do with you at all.

But then, as the two of you watch the mesmerizing creation of the world’s most delicious pastry through the glass window of the kitchen, Jake says this: “Heard you broke up with what’s-his-name.”

Your grip on the tray in your hands tightens but your eyes remain on the rapidly frying dough. It was a casual question, and Jake isn’t even looking at you, but his repeated interest in your dating life continues to give you hope where there probably isn’t any. He’s just making conversation. You shrug. “He was an asshole,” you say nonchalantly.

“Told you he would be,” Jake responds with an equally casual tone.

You bite your bottom lip aggressively, tired of the ambiguity behind his words. “That’s fine,” you retort. “I’ve got options.”

That’s when Jake turns to look at you with a troubled pair of eyes.

“Your words,” you remind him. “So, I took your advice.”

He narrows his eyes. “What advice would that be?”

“I told you someone asked out,” you say, setting the first of your funnel cakes down onto your tray.

“You said yes?” he gapes at you. “To a stranger?”

You watch him pensively for a moment. “You know, I think we’re going to need another tray,” you say, deciding to keep him in suspense for another minute.

Call it payback or something.

Read Part 8

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this installment of torturous pining. Don't forget to send in your ideas for these two in my ask box!

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[foxynez]

Home Is Where The Heart Is (Orm Marius x Fem!Reader)

Summary: A one-night stand leads to something more.

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex.

Author's notes: This is a request from an anon. I changed the setting, I hope you don't mind. Maybe it's a bit of cliché, but I just found this easier to write. Takes place before the first movie and after the second.

"C'mon, y/n. Cheer up a little, we're gonna have fun!"

That what's your best friend Maria had said earlier that evening and she always managed to convince you somehow. And she was having fun alright. You sat at the bar and glared over at her dancing with the guy she had been flirting with for the past hour, totally forgetting about you.

You sighed and returned to staring into the empty glass in your hand. It was never you finding someone to flirt with. Maria was the beautiful and confident one. All the guys were always looking at her.

*

Orm lifted his chin and wrinkled his nose as he entered the establishment the surface dwellers called a club. Ugh, this place reeked with sweat and alcohol. It was worse than the Sunken Citadel. He watched the drunk surface dwellers on the floor, grinding their bodies against each other. Was this what they called dancing on the surface? Orm scoffed. So unsophisticated. Orm sighed over the fact that he needed to be here. But, it was important to study all of the surface dwellers behavior, to form the best strategy against them. Sure, he could have sent someone else to reconnaissance, but he only trust his own judgment. And from what he'd seen so far, it would be easy to defeat them. They were so arrogant about their own supremacy in the universe.

Orm scanned the area and located what must be the place where he could buy something to drink. He definitely needed it after spending time on this ugly surface. Thanks to his human associate David Kane, he had obtained currency so he could spend a few days on the surface.

"A glass of your finest red wine," Orm ordered the man behind the desk. The man obliged and placed the glass in front of him. Orm paid what he owed and took a sip.

"Yuk," Orm grimaced at the sour taste. This was the best they had to offer? A giggle next to him made him look to the side. There, he met a pair of sparkling, beautiful e/c eyes looking back at him.

"I know the feeling. I ordered the same," you said with a smile and raised your empty glass.

The blond man quirked an eyebrow and eyed you up and down long enough for you to feel self-conscious. You wouldn't normally call a man pretty, but this man was just that with his stunning eyes blue as the ocean. His physique was slim yet muscular in the black trousers and white shirt he was wearing. You smiled awkwardly and fluttered down your gaze. Okay, didn't this guy know when it was time to stop staring?

Orm had seen many surface woman during the past days he'd spent here, but none of them measured up to your beauty.

"Uhm...so, I haven't seen you here before. Are you knew in town?" you asked to break the awkward silence, cringed at your lame pick-up line.

"Yes. I'm just visiting for a few days. Business," the man replied and finally looked away from you. Not that you really mind him looking at you.

"I see. Welcome to town, I guess. I'm y/n," you smiled and reached out your hand.

The man looked down at your hand like he wondered what he was going to do with it, then he took it in his and you shook his hand.

"Orm. My name is Orm."

"Nice to meet you, Orm."

The man finally smiled and you were lost. "Nice to meet you too, y/n."

*

You didn't know how you ended up at his hotel room. Maybe it was the bad wine clouding your judgment about whether a one-night stand was a good idea or not? Or maybe it was the fact that Orm was so damn charming? A bit arrogant yes, but definitely charming.

Clothes were quickly discarded, both of you eager to feel the warmness of each other's bodies. Orm smirked up at you as he pushed your legs apart, his curls tickling your inner thighs as he opened you up, licking along your inner lips. That first touch of his tongue sent sparks throughout your body and you moaned, your body jerking at the contact. You were already swollen, warm, and open for him. Orm explored your pussy, running his tongue up and down, slowly and deliberately, leaving out the most sensitive parts.

Arousal kept building up in your core, your pussy clenching with need to be filled and satisfied.

Orm sucked your inner folds between his lips, tugging at them, then repeated this on the other side, working his way towards your clit. You grabbed his head, burying your fingers in his curls as your eyes flew open, your body ready for the oncoming pleasure. But just when he was almost at your clit, he worked his way back again and you let out a desperate whine

"Orm, please...," you mewled, bucking your hips against him as his tongue swirled around the entrance of your pussy.

"You want to come?" he asked in a teasing tone.

Glaring down, you met his amused gaze and bit your lip as you nodded, your pussy clenching as he smiled up at you. Orm smirked and lowered his head, sucking your clit into his mouth and massaging it with his lips, rolling it gently, teasingly.

"Oh, yes!" you gasped and bucked your hips against him. Orm grabbed your hips and held you tighter as your squirming became more urgent.

He circled the entrance in small, swirling motions, licking the juices leaking from it. Then, without warning, he pushed his tongue in as deeply as possible. You moaned, a combination of relief and anticipation of the coming pleasure. The low moans escaping from your throat spurred him on. He stopped tongue fucking you and licked his way up to your clit, closing his lips over it. You could feel his tongue swirl around in slow circles, with an occasional flick against it as it protruded from behind its hood.

"Fuck, I'm so close...," you bit your lip and cupped your breasts, squeezing your nipples hard. Orm's only response was to begin sucking on your clit to push you over the edge. Your body tensed and your moans became louder, pleasure washing over you as you came against his mouth. Your orgasm was slowly subsiding when you felt Orm spreading you open and pushing two fingers inside you. You were so wet with arousal and saliva that he easily slipped inside.

Orm looked up at you and met your lustful gaze as he turned his fingers upward, the thick pads toward your belly. Soon he found your g-spot and started to put pressure against it in circular motions, a smirk spreading on his lips as that spongy flesh began to swell.

"Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!!!" you cried out as you came again, your body convulsing as his fingers buried deep inside your pussy gave you the most intense orgasm of your life. Your convulsions began to subside, and at that moment, Orm pushed inside you, all of his thick, hard cock filling you up completely.

"Oh, fuck!" you gasped and grabbed his arms as his cock made your body quiver.

Orm groaned and pushed your legs up to your chest, his eyes feral as he started pounding into you at a ruthless pace that took you to your third orgasm within seconds. Orm continued to fuck you through your climax, his grunts filling the air, growing more erratic with each thrust.

"Fuck, I love how tight you feel around me," Orm mumbled and clenched his jaw as he came, his gaze never leaving yours as he filled your womb with his seed. Leaning down, he caught your lips with his, kissing you softly as his cock continued to twitch inside you. You sighed contently against his lips and slid your hands up his broad frame, neither of you contemplating the risks of what you just did.

~ Some years later ~

The next day, Orm was gone and you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed about it.

"What are we doing here?" Orm asked after Arthur knocked on the door to the house they were standing at.

Arthur looked at his brother with a big smile. "We're at an old friend of mine. She always said that if I ever needed it, she would have a spare bed for me. So I thought, what better place for you to lay low than here?"

Orm raised an eyebrow. "She?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "It was never like that. She's just a friend."

Orm gave his brother a meaningful glance just as the door opened. He turned his head around, his eyes widening when he saw the woman standing there.

You were surprised to see Arthur outside your door.

"Arthur?" you said and smiled at your old friend. "What are you-" You stopped mid-sentence when your gaze landed on the man standing beside him. Your eyes widened when you looked into the familiar, blue eyes and a pang of heat rushed through your belly.

"Orm?"

Arthur looked between the two of you in confusion. "Wait a second, you two know each other?"

Both you and Orm looked away flustered and Arthur immediately understood the situation. He chuckled delightfully. "Really? You two? When?"

"A couple of years back," Orm answered and rubbed his neck, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I was on the surface, doing reconnaissance."

"On the surface?" You frowned as you looked at Orm, your eyes widening when you realized what he was saying. "Wait a minute...are you like Arthur?"

"I'm his brothe-"

"Mommy, mommy!"

Orm stared at the little boy running up to you and taking your hand, a pair of bright, blue eyes staring back at him with wonder. It felt as if all air had left his lungs as he slowly processed what was happening.

Arthur stared at the blue-eyed boy with golden curls then at his brother, then back at the boy again, not being able to find his words for the first time in his life.

"I-I...I didn't want you to find out like this. I searched for you for a long time, but it was like you never existed. Now I understand why," you said with a bitter smile and looked down at your son. "And now I understand where Ozia's strength comes from."

"I...I have a son?" Orm asked in stunned shock as he looked up at you then back at the little boy.

"Yes, Orm." You smiled and picked up your son in your arms. "Orm, this is Ozia. Ozia, this man here is your father, and this is your uncle."

Ozia stared at Orm with big eyes and Orm gave him a nervous smile.

"Nice to meet you, Ozia."

The boy didn't reply, only hid his face against your chest.

"He's a little shy with strangers," you said and smiled. "But hopefully you won't be a stranger for long. If that's what you want? To be in his life?"

Orm looked at you and the boy in your arms, and a sensation he'd never felt before spread in his chest. Was it...true love?

"There's nothing I want more," Orm replied and smiled. For the first time in a long time, he felt warm and safe, like he found the place where he belonged.

Thank you for taking your time to read ♡

Tagging: @alishaslibrary

[romirola]

For the first time since February 2020, I am sick. 🤒 As a distraction, I thought I'd share a bit of my current WIP. Under a cut because the full fic will be rated E for my typical brand of soft-smut. 18+ only, please!

I'm thinking this fic will be multiple chapters, and I always take the opportunity to remind people that I'm a SLOW writer. I don't start posting on AO3 until the story is drafted in full. It'll be awhile before this one gets to that stage, but oh, it has been a lot of fun to imagine so far.

“You’ve got a hypno-kink,” Milo repeated, giving a thoughtful nod. “So, what do we do about that?”

When Sweetheart had volunteered that information about themselves, Milo was shocked, to say the least. But he knew he needed to be strategic. One wrong move could make them retreat back into their defensive shell.

“I…” Sweetheart grimaced, feeling woefully unprepared for the conversation. “I don’t know,” they answered. “I thought you would think it was weird or something. I didn’t tell you to pressure you into it or anything like that. I’d never, ever want that.” Their hand found Milo’s under the covers and squeezed, the pulse matching the beat of the subtle song their core always sang when they were together. “I just thought you should know. Because I want you to know all of me, and that’s something about me.”

But Milo wanted more than just understanding. Much more. Understanding was a great start, but nowhere near the finish line he had in mind.

He eventually convinced Sweetheart to tell him all about their fantasies involving hypnosis that the stealth had spent far too long pretending were nonexistent or, at the very least, irrelevant. As they delved more into the topic, Milo began to connect the dots. It certainly was in character with Sweetheart. After all, time had shown that Sweetheart was something of a soft dom, which was a preference Milo knew quite well, being one himself. Still, the pair had never gotten caught up with rigid labels or limiting roles. They were way more focused on each other, frankly, and the love between them, to be concerned with trivial things like that. When their nights did veer more towards defined dynamics, however, both Milo and Sweetheart were content to trust each other to discover how to let things play out. It was a system that worked very, very well.

(some other stuff)

Slowly, and with constant prompting from Milo, Sweetheart had revealed more details about what drew them towards hypnotism.

“I like the idea of giving that kind of deep relaxation and guidance, to make you feel good. Accessing that control in a way that helps take away whatever might be holding you back— anxiety, insecurity, worry, whatever. And being in a position to do that for you…” Sweetheart’s thick eyebrows bounced twice. “I like the thought of that a lot. A lot a lot.”

In his quest to understand, Milo continued to press them for more details.

“Me being in the hypnotist's role,” Sweetheart declared with certainty when Milo asked them for more explanation. “And just to be clear, no, not in like a ‘I'll make you do things you don't want to do because I like power and control.’ Like a supervillain or something. Not at all like that.” Sweetheart swiped their flat palm across the air to emphasize their point. “For me, it's more about supporting you so you can do what you want to do and experience it in a really clear, pure way. Giving you that opportunity to just listen, to just be, to not even have to think, only feel. Maybe it’d take shape as me giving you cues that heighten your sensation or let you focus on pleasure,” Sweetheart explained. “Or…” They swallowed. “Maybe I’d have you on your knees, hot and begging and ready to obey any command I gave you.”

[formlessvoidbeast]

Smut prompt: sexytimes as a distraction during recovery from minor injury and/or first time, but neither partner is actually as human as they look with all their clothes on

The jangobi brain worms persist, so I hope you don't mind I decided to write this prompt for them.

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“There you are, my dear.” Obi-Wan carefully adhered the brace around Jango's chest. It would, hopefully, keep him from twisting and bending and aggravating his heavily bruised ribs in the few hours it would take for the bacta injection to finish its work. Obi-Wan patted his side when he was finished. “All done. You'll be back to piledriving your enemies in no time I'm sure.”

“Hmph.” Jango huffed at him, grimacing as he settled into the couch beside him. He didn't bother going for a shirt, leaving quite a lot of his magnificently soft and muscled chest and belly on display. “How's the leg?” he asked.

“On the mend.” Obi-Wan wiggled his toes, where they emerged from the brace on his ankle. His knee had one too. The nasty injury he'd taken had not been improved by running on it, afterward. Even the Force could only provide so much support to it, when most of his attention had to be on the fight.

Jango had been hired by the parents of a missing child, while Obi-Wan had been sent to root out the blackmailers as a whole. Of course, once Obi-Wan realized there were kidnapped children involved, he had altered his mission to one of rescue. Jango had arrived when Obi-Wan's mission went to pieces, and glued it back together again with expeditious violence.

“I do appreciate the timely save.” Obi-Wan dropped his voice, low and sultry. “How ever will I be able to repay you?”

Jango rolled his eyes, Force presence amused. “It only made sense to work together, if we were on the same job. No debts.” He rubbed at the brace on his ribs, looked around the dingy safehouse Obi-Wan had brought him to. His fingers drummed on his knees. “Not much to do here, is there,” he mused. True, the space was very small, smaller even than that one Senator's closet Obi-Wan had once spent half a day hidden out in. There wasn't much of entertainment to be had, and Jango was a man of action. Obi-Wan would simply have meditated until he was healed, on his own.

“There's always conversation?” Obi-Wan suggested.

“All right, conversation.” Jango tipped his head to the side, eyeing Obi-Wan with a familiar hint of hunger. “I've been wondering. Do you ever actually kriff, or you just like flirting?”

“Ah.” Obi-Wan had dodged that question several times over the years of their occasional acquaintance. Both of them being laid up for a few hours together made it much harder to duck. There was no easy distraction to be had. “I do have a lot of fun flirting,” he said. “And it's not that I dislike sex but, well...” Obi-Wan didn't look toward Jango, didn't reach out in the Force to get a hint of what he was feeling. Obi-Wan trusted him enough, now, for honesty: that didn't mean he wanted to feel the rejection. “I'm... quite a bit less baseline-human than I look, you see. Easier to leave it as a flirtation everyone enjoys than be a disappointment.”

He very much was not expecting the absolute roar of laughter Jango let out. Jango winced, grabbing at his bruised ribs, but did not stop laughing. And he was lovely, in his joy, even if Obi-Wan was entirely confused.

“You need to sleep with more Mandos if you think not baseline is going to throw one of us.” Jango chuckled, shaking his head. “We mostly look human, but we've blended with everything a human can and some things it really didn't seem like we should be able to.” He leaned toward Obi-Wan, strong white teeth flashing as his voice dropped. “Someone lets you under the armor, you praise the manda and work with whatever they've got going on.”

Obi-Wan swallowed hard, a yearning he had long learned to set aside around any but a few very close friends sending a tendril of heat through his core. He felt his cheeks warm, and knew they must be going pink in a terrible betrayal by biology and his fair skin. “Is that so?” he murmured.

Jango's grin widened. He (carefully) got up onto his knees, looming up over Obi-Wan. “What do you say, Ob'ika? Stave off the injury-boredom with a little fun?” His touch was gentle, fingertips brushing Obi-Wan's beard as he tilted his face up. Obi-Wan's breath caught. “It's not like I'm all that close to baseline either. Show me yours, I'll show you mine?”

Obi-Wan groaned, gently shoving Jango's chest. “I ought to turn you down just for using such a wretched line.”

Jango's hand covered his, capturing it against the warmth of his chest, caressing it. “But you're not going to.” His grin was absolutely sliding into leer territory.

“Force help me, I'm not going to.” Obi-Wan lifted his face, leaning up for a kiss, which Jango did not hesitate to give him. Jango's lips were warm, and surprisingly soft. He made a rough, hungry noise against Obi-Wan's lips. When Obi-Wan opened up to him in the Force he felt like hungry lust and eager anticipation—like looking forward to a surprise, rather than bracing for disappointment.

Jango's mouth opened against his, tongue teasing a deepening of the kiss. Obi-Wan welcomed it, but Jango flinched back. He was grimacing when Obi-Wan's eyes fluttered open, hand pressed to the brace on his ribs. “Maybe not this position,” he said.

“Hmm, we are both somewhat limited at the moment, but I'm sure we can figure something out.” Obi-Wan considered their options. “Suppose you lie on your back, and I'll cuddle against your uninjured side. I should be able to keep my hurt leg from bumping anything. I could grind on your thigh and get my hand down your pants.”

“Yeah, that could work.”

There was no graceful way for two injured men to rearrange themselves on the ratty couch, but they managed it without hurting themselves at least. Jango grabbed a pillow to go under his head and then another for Obi-Wan's knee, which was very thoughtful of him. Soon, Obi-Wan was happily squished between the back of the couch and Jango's solid body, a firm thigh between his legs, and they could kiss as much as they liked without pain.

“So...” Obi-Wan trailed his fingertips down Jango's belly, following the fuzzy trail of hair toward the top hem of his pants. There was an entirely promising bulge waiting there for him. “Anything in particular to know?”

“It's a cock, not too weird,” Jango said. “A firm grip and a steady stroke are all it takes.” He mimed the fairly universal 'wanking' gesture. “Giving a bit of a twist over the ridges when you stroke it feels amazing. But when I finish, I like it when you squeeze at the base, hard. Hard enough a baseline human would definitely be in pain, and umm...” he hesitated slightly, faintly embarrassed. “I do come, uh, heavily.”

“Like, best done in the 'fresher to contain the mess quantities, or just put down a towel?” Obi-Wan asked. One of those was definitely more feasible than the other, at the moment.

“Towel,” Jango said. He glanced toward the 'fresher. “A towel is a good idea, I should have grabbed one—”

Obi-Wan flung a hand out, pulling with the Force. One of the blessings of a space so small was that it was easy to have a towel fly into his hand.

“Convenient.” Jango lay the towel across his belly, sadly covering up some of his bare skin. Obi-Wan slipped his fingertips under the top hem of his loose pants, quirking an eyebrow. “Yeah, come on.” His hips lifted into the touch, eager.

His cock was quite the handful, a bit more tapered at the head than human-standard, with ridges on the underside. The loose foreskin meant there was a smooth glide, velvet skin over iron heat, when Obi-Wan got a grip. Jango groaned, thigh tensing deliciously between Obi-Wan's legs. Obi-Wan rocked his hips in time with his stroking hand. He mouthed at Jango's cheek until he finally turned his head enough their lips could meet in another kiss.

Jango's lust and pleasure were rich in the Force. He moaned into their kiss, body shaking, when Obi-Wan figured out just how he liked a slight twist over the ridges of his cock as he was stroked. His hands were warm, petting Obi-Wan and holding him close.

The pleasure built between them. Jango felt like his was luxuriating in all of it more than chasing his orgasm for much longer than Obi-Wan anticipated. Not that he minded! He tended to take a long while to get running. Enjoying the closeness and touching was exactly what he liked. Eventually, though, Jango began to feel like impatience—hungry and selfish. His cock thickened in Obi-Wan's hand, quite literally swelling in a way that baseline human cocks didn't.

“Close!” Jango gasped, hips rising. His brow was crumpled, teeth bared and gnashing at nothing. “Tighter, Ob'ika, I'm!” He reached for the towel, flipping a bit of it over the head of his cock and grabbing for Obi-Wan's hand on his cock. He squeezed Obi-Wan's hand on the base of his cock much more firmly than he would have dared, even being warned that Jango liked it hard.

It pulsed in Obi-Wan's hand, a thick bulge growing beneath his fingers as white-hot pleasure shot through Jango and he came in long waves with a veritable flood of come.

“Don't let go, don't,” Jango gasped, desperate. “Kriff, yes, so tight!”

“I have you,” Obi-Wan promised, holding Jango's cock in a vice-tight squeeze. “I have you.”

Jango twisted and bucked and kept coming. Enough Obi-wan began to worry the towel wouldn't actually be enough. Eventually he did still, though. He caught Obi-Wan's mouth in a kiss again, a wave of such intense affection rushing through him Obi-Wan gasped.

Jango's eyes were dark, pupils fully dilated. He nuzzled against Obi-Wan's face, all sweet. “I like to linger, but if your hand's cramping I'll be fine now.”

“My dear, I am a swordsman. My grip isn't going to fail. I can hold you as long as you like,” Obi-Wan told him, distinctly smug with the way Jango's emotions went practically gooey at the promise.

“It's so good,” Jango murmured, lipping at Obi-Wan's mouth in half-drunk kisses. “The afterward's the best part. Intimate.”

The thickening of his cock, that bulge just above the base—if that swelled up inside someone, it would lock their bodies together, wouldn't it? And then the affection. Biologically mandated post-coital cuddling and bonding time. The realization rushed through Obi-Wan like fire, and he bit his lip on the sudden desire to blurt out that he wanted it inside him next time. There might never be a next time. And it wouldn't be fair to have Jango promise him something when he was clearly compromised on a potent blend of endorphins and oxytocin.

Obi-Wan rubbed his crotch on Jango's muscular thigh, hungry himself. He was worked up enough, finally, that he thought he might be able to come from grinding alone. Usually it took a bit more than that. With the waves of Jango's enjoyment bolstering his own, Obi-Wan might actually manage it.

“Oh,” Jango breathed, delighted. He moved his thigh against Obi-Wan, intentional. “You get wet when you're turned on.”

Obi-Wan felt his face heat. He hadn't realized he'd gotten wet enough it would be felt through his tights and Jango's pants. “It's not a useable cunt,” he warned, trying to head off any disappointment before Jango got to daydreaming. “I can't be kriffed in it. It doesn't work.”

Jango blinked at him, confused. He shook his head and tapped at Obi-Wan's hand, which was still gripping his now-softening cock. “Let go, now. Let me just—” Jango wiped them both up with the towel, and then folded it around its substantial load of come and set it on the ground. He tugged his pants up and then asked. “When you say it's 'not usable' and 'doesn't work', what do you mean?”

The afterglow of Jango's pleasure was gone, now. Obi-Wan almost wanted to cry. But he had promised that he'd show Jango his in a tit for tat. He didn't want to be braced against Jango's disappointment, but past experience could not be so easily set aside.

“I mean,” Obi-Wan said, “that unless I am in season, I am not big enough to take more than half a finger in the front.” He indicated the second knuckle on his index finger, to show his limit. “Even if we managed to get the head of your cock in, it wouldn't feel good. To either of us.” Obi-Wan had certainly tried it. He'd needed bacta afterward, and then he'd had to spend an hour comforting the friend who felt horrible about having hurt him.

“...and you're in season...” Jango prompted, thoughtful.

“Never.” Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose. “I've had a hormone blocking implant since I was fifteen. Ugh, it was miserable. Spend six months growing either a cock or a cunt just to spend three weeks unbearably horny, then spend the next six months ungrowing it and growing the opposite and do it all over again. No, thank you!”

“All right, so...” Jango's brow wrinkled. He levered himself up a bit on his elbow to better look down at Obi-Wan. “You can't take a cock, sure, that's fine, but you can get off, right? You liked grinding on me. Does taking a finger feel good? Or a tongue?”

...just like that?

“Ob'ika?” Jango touched his cheek, concerned.

“I'm a bit thrown by the easy acceptance,” Obi-Wan admitted. “Yes, I... I can get off. Both fingers and tongues can be very good for me.”

“Not unusable, just different,” Jango decreed. He kissed Obi-Wan's forehead, gentle. “You need to kriff more Mandos.” Jango pressed his hand to his rib brace as he sat up, then nodded to himself, clearly pleased that it hadn't hurt. “Now, unless you object, I'm getting my mouth between your legs immediately.”

“No objections, my dear,” Obi-Wan breathed. “None whatsoever.”

It wasn't actually immediate, not with both of them injured. Jango put his pillow on the floor to kneel on it, and helped pull Obi-Wan's tights down off his uninjured leg to bare him. When Obi-Wan threw his uninjured leg over Jango's shoulder, opening himself up, Jango rumbled a very pleasing sound, pupils dilating. He licked his lips, practically devouring Obi-Wan with his eyes.

Obi-Wan knew what he looked like, when aroused. His cock was small, folded in on itself, like a swollen knuckle. Below, he bloomed open with flushed pink-red cilia that weeped clear slick as they moved in concerted waves trying to pull anything nearby into the narrow passage that would be a cunt if he let his body grow one.

Obi-Wan could have gotten a hormone implant that set him to one extreme or the other, cock or cunt, and would nearly have passed for baseline-human. It just... didn't feel like him to be either. This was the anatomy he'd grown up with, before he started cycling, and the anatomy he had most of the time between extremes even then. This was him, even if it severely limited his potential partners.

Though... it seemed not quite as severely as he'd thought. Jango fell forward with a moan, burying his face between Obi-Wan's thighs. He delved into Obi-Wan's waiting slick, lapping at him rough and eager. The flexible tip of his tongue wormed into Obi-Wan's entrance, and set to kriffing him with quick, muscular thrusts.

Obi-Wan moaned, hands sinking into his coarse curls to hold his head in place. “Ooh, Force, yes!”

Jango's jaw popped, his mouth was open wide to engulf as much of Obi-Wan as he could get. He mushed his nose against Obi-Wan's cock, rubbing it as he ate him out. Obi-Wan was already so worked up, so turned on, and the sensation on top of Jango's clear and loud pleasure at getting to taste and touch him sent him cascading over the edge of orgasm.

Obi-Wan bucked and moaned his way through an absolutely bone-melting orgasm, clenching around Jango's tongue. Jango sucked his way off his entrance with a lavish kiss that had him crying out, and grinned at him with his mouth reddened and his face absolutely coated in Obi-Wan's slick.

“I'm multi-orgasmic if... if you want to— Jango!” Obi-Wan gasped when Jango immediately dove back in. “Suck my cock?” he begged. “and, and, give me a finger?” He was burning up, inflamed by the skill of Jango's mouth and his eagerness at the act. Jango's finger was thick, harder than his tongue, perfect to clench around as Jango sucked his cock. “Oh stars. Oh, Force. Oh, please!” Obi-Wan all but sobbed out another orgasm.

Jango moaned between his legs, gentling as Obi-Wan collapsed in shivers. He caressed the inside of Obi-Wan's narrow passage, finger slowly turning and rubbing, searching for anything that was particularly sensitive. And he found it, too, the spongey front wall where Obi-Wan knew from experience the texture was a little rougher and firm pressure felt amazing. He stuck to it as Obi-Wan gasped and squirmed on his finger, licking lavishly around his thrusting finger and then squeezing just the tip of his tongue in with his finger. It was so much, too much to bear when Jango wrapped an arm around Obi-Wan's thigh to be able to reach his cock from the upper side—stroking it between two fingers as he licked and finger-kriffed Obi-Wan's hole.

The walls rattled as the third orgasm came crashing through Obi-Wan, his control over his abilities in the Force compromised. Jango felt startled, between his legs, and then unbearably smug.

“Enough,” Obi-Wan begged, patting Jango's arm like tapping out of a spar. “Mercy, mercy. I can't.”

Jango rocked back on his heels. He licked his finger clean then wiped his face on his forearm, grinning. “Definitely works,” he said.

“Oh, I'll say.” Obi-Wan laughed, tugging on Jango's arm. “Enough stroking your ego. Come back up here and cuddle me.”

They managed to get themselves arranged again fairly easily. Jango's ribs didn't seem to be bothering him at all, anymore, and Obi-Wan's leg was definitely feeling better—though how much of that was the bacta and how much of it was the fact he wasn't sure he could feel his legs after such good orgasms remained to be seen.

It felt good to rest against Jango's solid bulk, to have his arms around him, and just float on the closeness. Obi-Wan nestled close, and managed not to say anything revealing. Like wondering aloud how many orgasms they could give him while their bodies were locked together with Jango's cock buried in his ass. He certainly planned to find out, if they were ever in the same place again and healthy enough to make the attempt. If Jango liked that kind of sex.

“So,” he said, aloud. “About these other Mandos I ought to be kriffing. Do you have their comm numbers or—”

Jango growled, rough and dangerous, and claimed Obi-Wan's mouth in a rough kiss that was slippery and tart with his own slick.

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(I am not currently open for more prompts. Thanks to all who participated!)

[mariposa-drowned]

Abby x injured!reader fluff 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Hello lovely! Thank you so much for being my first request! I'm sorry this took so long, I struggled with this one for a bit, and it was stuck in my drafts for longer than I'd like to admit. I know this isn't pure fluff, and I apologize for that, but I do have some period comfort/fluff in the works, so hopefully that makes up for this. I did my best to make this gender neutral aswell, so I hope I did okay:)

Warnings- hurt/comfort, small interaction with icky men, smidge of blood, bad and inaccurate medical descriptions, swearing, reader doesn't like taking medicine, that should be it but if I missed any lmk!

--🤍🖤🏹🤍🖤🏹🤍🖤🏹🤍🖤🏹🤍🖤🏹🤍🖤--

It was a pretty normal patrol day, you had been paired with Abby once again, you were convinced she was tugging some sort of strings to get paired up with you whenever you were out. But you werent complaining. Patrol was almost over, you just needed to check an abandoned convience store on the corner and then you could radio back to be picked up.

It seems that the seraphites had a different idea in mind about that. Before you could even register what was going on, you and Abby had been ambushed just as you were exiting the store. Bows and large rusty guns all pointed your way.

"Well, well look what we have here." one of the men on the front horse said. He looked to the others on horses and spoke again "What do you think men? Should we blow their brains out right here? Or have a little fun with these sinners?"

You looked to Abby, trying not to show the fear on your face and ultimatley failing, you reached to your hip for your gun before feeling Abbys hand covering yours, you looked to her with confusion evident on your face as Abby whispered to you.

"We're outnumbered, I radioed for backup when I heard them coming. Just stay calm for a minute." You trusted Abby with your entire life, so you slowly took your hand away from your hip, taking hold of Abbys hand instead.

You were snapped back to reality as one of the men got off his horse "I don't know, I think the little one would be nice, might take her back huh?" a murmur of agreement was heard from the other seraphites.

Abby gripped your hand harder, trying to gaurd you with her large frame.

"Don't fucking touch them."

"Oh protective one eh? I don't think you're in much of a position to have a say in this, do you?"

You heard a low growl come from Abby. You took a quick look around, trying to figure out what was taking the rest of patrol so long to come get you. Once you were distracted, you felt yourself being ripped away from Abby, the movment catching herself so off gaurd that her grip faultered. You let out a small yelp before your back was pressed against one of the men who had gotten of his horse. His hands digging into your wrist and hip where he held you. You could feel his hot breath on your neck trying to think.

Taking a deep breathe, you did what seemed most reasonable at the moment. You lifted your leg up and kicked backwards, hitting your captor right in the nuts. The man groaned, stumbling back as you tried to run forward back to Abby. You were a mere 5 feet away from her when you felt a searing pain in your leg. Dropping to the ground you let out a louder scream this time, the arrow doing deeper into your leg as you fell.

Abby screamed your name, quickly running to you as the men surrounding you started laughing. Their laughter was cut short though as you heard one of the WLF vehicles pull up, gunshots rang around you as bodies fell to the ground, Abby got close to you, sheilding you with her body. You couldnt help but start crying, you could feel the pain crawling up your leg as you tried to curl in closer to Abby, hoping she would take some of the pain away.

Once the gunshots ceased, you looked up with blurry eyes, seeing people rush towards you, medkit in hand. You could see mel come into view, a grimace on her face before she quickly hid it.

"We need to get them on the truck now, they need to go to the medwing, too much blood loss." Mel hurriedly spluttered out.

Abby nodded, she whispered a quick 'I'm sorry baby' before lifting you up bridal style, you yelled out in pain, a string of curses coming from your mouth as she carried you.

Abby laid you down on the truckbed sitting down next to you. Mel sat down by your leg, trying to asses the damage she got out a tourniquet. You looked to her knowing exactly what that was for and how much it would hurt. You tried to shuffle away, Abby quickly slid behind you, holding you still.

"no no no, Mel please, we really don't need to use that"

Mel gave you an apologetic look before starting to slip the tourniquet around your leg just above where the arrow stayed. You kept spluttering out pleas making pathetic attempts at kicking away, it got you nowhere. This was gonna hurt like a bitch. Mel leaned closer to Abby whispering a small "keep her still, it'll hurt worse if she's moving" Abby nodded at the request, still behind you she took both your arms to cross them over your chest, hugging you tight.

"you're alright angel, doin so good baby, so strong. Just need you to try and be still."

You looked up at her in question, still panicking when you felt the tourniquet start tightening. You screamed out, trying to wiggle out of Abby's iron grip despite her soft words.

You were so tired, and in so much pain, eventually your yelling stopped and you went slack in Abby's arms. She felt for your pulse, elevated, but still okay. She figured it was probably best for you to be unconscious right now anyways.

⁠●●●⁠●●●●●●●⁠●●●●●⁠●●●●●●●⁠●●●●●⁠●●●●●●●⁠●

You woke up feeling extremely groggy, like you were living in a cloud of fog. You tried to sit up, assessing your surroundings only to find you were in yours and Abby's shared space in the stadium. You were tucked into the bed, trapped in a cucoon of yours and Abby's blankets. Abby could see movement from the corner of her eye as she was tidying up the small kitchen.

"Hey my love how you feeling?" Abby walked over to you and sat on the edge of the bed, being cautious of your leg.

"Like I got shot with an arrow." You deadpanned, Abby laughed at your response "what happened? I remember passing out in the back of the truck."

Abby sighed "Well, once we got you back to the med-wing they took out the arrowhead but found that those asshole seraphites dipped it in some sort of natural poison found in plant roots. So they had to come up with a concoction of medicine to help your body process it, but they only had so much to spare. Long story short, you've been out for two days and the poison is likey still in your system and will be for the next few weeks. I've been checking on the wound and it does seem to be healing okay. We've both been given a month off and you're allowed to stay here with me as long as I look after you. Mel said she might still come by for checkups just to be safe though"

You kept your gaze on the blankets that surrounded you trying to process the information.

"I'm gonna be okay though right? We can still go out together?"

Abby could hear the tremble in your voice, she knew you were most likley overwelmed with the surge of information and the pain that you were in. She scooched in a bit closer to hold both sides of your head in her hands.

"You will be okay. You will heal overtime and I will help you in any way I can, we will do this together okay?"

You met Abbys eyes, you knew deep down that you would recover, and everything would eventually go back to normal, but you needed that reassurance. You put your hands over Abbys that currently resided on your face, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes focusing on her touch and how her smell had surrounded you, being redressed in one of her big shirts, her blankets mixed with yours all around.

You enjoyed the moment for several minutes before a sharp stinging pain radiated throughout your leg. Your face twisting into a grimace, Abby took notice of your expression and quickly pulled away from you, muttering under her breath 'be right back baby' you sat there as Abby went to go retrieve whatever. Taking a fistful of the blankets into your hand as you slunk down on the bed into a laying position you could feel the pain getting higher up your leg, letting out a small whimper in response. When she said that there would still be lingering poison she was not kidding at all.

Abbys footsteps neared the bed as she helped you back into a sitting position, her face contorting as she heard your small cries as the pain intesified, she placed her items on the side table and quickly positioned her frame behind yours.

"okay i have something here to help but its gonna taste like shit and burn like bad alcohol goin down okay?" You let out a small sob, Abby shushing you before speaking again "I know angel but it'll help lessen the pain, I have water right here for you afterwards, just need you to take one big gulp of it and you'll be all done." she held up a small bottle to your lips, you tried to take in a deep breathe to prepare yourself for the awful taste, but you would do whatever to stop the nausiating sensation in your leg.

You opened your mouth, Abby taking it as her signal to bring the bottle to your lips. You had to hold back a gag as you tasted the revolting medicine of sorts, squeezing your eyes shut you managed a full swallow before pushing back into Abby signaling yo her you were done. You reached around, searching for the water she had mentioned, wanting to rid the taste from your mouth.

Abby replaced the small bottle with a glass of water, bringing it to your lips and whispering soft praises into the air. You finished the whole glass noticing the pain in your leg had lowered back to a tolerable amount already.

"what the hell was that sin of a drink" Abby laughed at your comment, wrapping her arms around your torso

"Something that Mel and a few others downstairs put together as a morphine like substitute, but it has to be ingested orally unlike morphine which would require an IV. Does it feel any better?"

"I dont feel like tearing my leg off anymore so I guess so. Just aches on my upper leg now, I think I just wanna try and go back to sleep." you yawned through your last statement only proving your point more.

Abbys hand lowered down towards your injured leg as she started softly kneading the fat there trying to soothe the ache you mentioned "I'm fine with you going back to sleep but I need you to eat something first."

You whined at both the mention of eating something right after that horrible "medicine" and from the relief of Abbys hand on your thigh. Before you could protest Abby had shoved a protien bar in your hand. "Just this and I'll massage you til' you fall asleep"

You took the bar with a small grumble, knowing that her hand was currently working magic for your injured leg and you would probably start crying if she stopped. You quickly chomped it down, hearing a hum of approval from Abby. She repositioned you so you were laying on your good side leg, as she remained behind you. Her hands contined to rub on your leg, the other rested under you on your side, giving small squeezes of reasurance every now and then.

She contined her motions until she heard your breathing even out, your body fully relaxing into her as you slipped off into a dreamless state. Abby let herself doze off aswell after making sure you were okay.

Abby startled awake feeling small movements and whimpers of discomfort coming from you. Often times your dreams were riddled with nightmares but she knew that you were just uncomfortable from your body language. She maneuvered your body so you were laying on the matress flat on your back and started lightly kneading a bit further down your leg, trying to help rid your discomfort.

You settled down after a minute or two, waking Abby up a few more times during the night as she helped readjust your body, ultimately propping your leg up on a few pillows. She didn't know if it was doing much, but judging by how you slipped back into sleep so easily, she figured you were comfy enough.

Giving a final kiss on your forehead, she fell asleep with you, interlacing her hand with yours as she joined you in slumber.

[superlarva]

They're totally paying attention! :)

Welp, I'm starting to think I don't know what day Sunday is...

Regardless, here's Chapter 9 - School Visit of Raising Dominoes.

Prologue: 00 Previous chapter: 08 Next chapter: 10

Summary: Rex and Fives visit the local elementary school.

CW: Implied/referenced child abuse, a very minor curse (I wouldn't really consider it a curse, but just to be careful... also, it's said in narration, not dialogue)

Chapter 9 – School Visit

“I want to see Echo.”

“I know, bud,” Rex sighed, trying not to let the exasperation show in his voice.

Fives had been at it since he woke, refusing to move, eat, or say anything that did not express his want for his twin. Now they sat in the elementary school parking lot, two hours late for their appointment with the principal.

“Fives?”

The boy did not stir from his position curled up in his car seat.

“Fives, look at me,” Rex said, exhaustion allowing some of his usual sternness to slip into his tone.

The kid’s shoulders tensed and his eyes reluctantly wandered over to Rex’s.

“We are going to go see Echo as soon as his doctor tells me it’s safe to see him, okay?”

“Want Echo n-now,” Fives whispered.

His words lacked the high-pitched whiney quality Rex had been expecting and he blinked dumbly, taken aback. The last thing Rex wanted to do was keep the brothers apart. He knew the feeling that accompanied the separation from one you admire, trust, need. He knew the feeling well, and he would not wish it on his worst enemy, let alone his child.

Rex slumped back into the seat and began unconsciously picking at the sleeve of his jacket, mind whirring and leg bouncing erratically, “When- when I was your age, me and your Uncle Cody—er, Cody and I—we, uh, didn’t really have a mom or dad to take care of us.”

Rex paused to take a breath, still unsure where exactly he was going with this story. He could feel Fives’s eyes boring into him and he squirmed, unable to meet the boy’s gaze, “We got sent to a lot of different homes where different people would, uh, take care of us, but sometimes… sometimes they would split us up. Sometimes we wouldn’t go together.”

Rex stole a quick glance at Fives. The boy was staring, waiting for him to continue. Rex attempted a smile, but could not help but feel like it more resembled a grimace. He sighed, hands moving to fidget with the zipper of his jacket, “Every time they separated us, I felt so lost and powerless. There was nothing- nothing I could do, and I never knew when I would be able to see Cody again. And- and I hated it. It was the worst feeling.”

Rex turned to meet Fives’s eyes, “So, I get it. I really do. I know you want to see Echo. I want to see him too. If I could do anything I wanted, I’d bring you to him right now.”

“…you would?” Fives asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“I would.”

“I-I don’t want to go without Echo,” Fives mumbled, turning his attention towards the elementary school.

“We have to go take a look at the school because I told them we were coming and they are all super excited to meet you,” Rex said, starting to regret his decision to not include Fives when he and Cody called the school to set up a meeting and tour. “It’s going to be really fun. They’re going to show you around and tell you about all the cool things you’re going to learn.”

Fives made a face, “Echo should be here. Not me.”

Rex felt as if he had just been stabbed in the heart, “No. No, you should be here.”

Fives scoffed and turned his head so his face was obscured from Rex’s view.

“No, Fives, listen to me. You should be here. Echo should be here too, but you should be here. I- you-” Rex sighed, letting his head fall into his hands. He wished Cody were here. He would know what to say.

Cut would know what to say too. He had kids. Little rascals, if Rex remembered correctly. He had to make everything into a game for those kids to do anything. Putting away dishes: who can stack them the neatest? Time to get in the car: who can get there the fastest?

A game.

Of course.

Rex lifted his head out of his hands, “If we go in and take the tour and you remember what they tell you, then when we go see Echo this weekend, you can tell him all about it. Think he would like that?”

Fives turned to face Rex again and hesitated, eyes searching Rex’s for something, before nodding seriously.

Rex smiled, “Sounds like a deal.”

The secretary had them wait on a bench outside the principal’s office until he was ready for them. Given the fact that they had arrived later than expected, Rex had thought the principal would leave them waiting, but almost as soon as they sat, the door opened.

“Good afternoon, young one. I am Mr. Plo Koon,” A tall man that Rex recognized as the principal of the school greeted, smiling down fondly at Fives.

The boy jumped to his feet and stood stiff as a board, almost as if he were standing at attention, “G-good afternoon, Mr. Plo Koon, s-sir.”

The principal’s smile deepened, “My, what lovely manners. You must be Fives?”

Fives nodded, “Yes, sir.”

“Many of the students here call me Mr. Plo, but ‘Mr. Plo Koon’ or ‘sir’ is alright too if that’s what you’re comfortable with.”

“Oh-Okay Mr.- Mr.-” Fives looked up at Rex uncertainly.

Rex nodded and smiled encouragingly.

Fives turned back to the principal, “Okay, Mr. Plo.”

“Very good,” Plo said, beaming down at Fives and clasping his hands together. He then shut the door to his office and began leading them down the hall, “Shall we begin our tour?”

The school was nice. It had clearly been remodeled a few years ago as it had a very modern interior design and was relatively free from wear and tear that would denote that it was the home of tiny grade schoolers for eight hours a day.

They were shown the cafeteria, auditorium, gym, library, and the rooms for the various different extracurricular activities like art and music, all of which Fives marveled at for their large open spaces, walls and walls of books, or amenities.

Mr. Plo was clearly taking pleasure in Fives’s wonder and Rex could not help but enjoy the boy’s delight as well. He was glad that the tour had allowed his mind to wander from Echo, even if just for the good part of an hour.

At the end of the tour, they circled back around and stopped outside of one of the classrooms they had passed on the way to the library. Plo turned to address Rex and Fives, “This one of our second-grade classrooms. If you want, the teacher of this class volunteered to let us sit in on a few minutes so that you could see what it would be like to go here. Would you like that?”

Fives nodded eagerly.

The principal smiled and opened the door. Fives bounded in after him and Rex followed quickly, pulling the door shut behind them.

When Rex looked up he found a class full of 7 year old twisting around in their desks trying to get a good look at him and Fives. The class was eerily quiet and Rex was thankful when the teacher standing at the front broke the silence, “Good afternoon, Principal Plo.”

Mr. Plo nodded, “Good afternoon, 99. Good afternoon, second grade.”

The teacher—99—led the class in a chorus of “Good afternoon, Principal Plo” as Plo ushered them to an empty table in the corner of the class.

Once they were seated, 99 resumed his lesson and Rex scanned the classroom. It was as well put together as the rest of the school. It was bright and colorful, and there was plenty of stimulus for young children.

Rex also got a better look at 99. At first from his voice, stature, and the wrinkles lining his face, Rex had thought the man old like his name, but as he looked closer, he realized the man was not elderly, just had some sort of facial deformity. Perhaps a muscle one as well, as he looked awfully thin and hunched over oddly as he walked.

The children in the class appeared to be engaged and attentive, save for a group of similar-looking boys in the other back corner.

The big bald boy was playing with a toy half hidden under his desk, his face lighting up with joy occasionally from his own, internal musings. His stature was intimidating for a seven-year-old, but such an innocence played out in his eyes that Rex had to believe the kid would not hurt a fly. At least, not on purpose.

The second boy had long wavy hair, pushed back by a red bandana. He was staring out the window, boredom etched across his features. Rex thought he looked a little like Cody when he was fed up someone’s bullshit.

The scrawny one with glasses appeared to be scribbling notes in the margins of a book. He might have been taking notes on 99’s instructions, but Rex doubted it, as no other children had books out to take notes in and the boy was hunched over it like it was the only thing that existed.

The fourth boy was sleeping. Wispy white hair sticking out in all directions as his head rested on his folded arms across the desk. Even through the oversized hoodie Rex could tell by the boy’s pointy elbows that he practically had Fives and Echo beat for the “most emaciated kid of the week” award.

Mr. Plo noticed the direction of Rex’s gaze and gave him a small nudge, “Those are the quadruplets. They transferred here this year. Bit of a special case, those boys. Not so different from yours, perhaps.”

Rex took one last look at the brothers before turning his attention back to 99’s mini lecture. He hoped Fives and Echo would behave differently from those boys at school. He hoped they would at least try to pay attention.

After sitting in on 99’s lesson, Mr. Plo lead them back to his office and had them sit across the desk from him. He laced his fingers together and leaned his elbows on the desk, smiling warmly at Fives, “Did you enjoy the tour?”

The boy nodded, “Mm-hmm!”

“I’m glad,” Plo glanced quickly over at Rex, then turned his attention back to Fives, “Now, your father told me that you’ve never been to school before, is that true?”

Fives looked to Rex before cautiously letting out a small “uh-huh.”

“Okay, that’s alright. Would it be okay if I asked you a few questions?”

“What kind of questions?”

“Well, your dad told me you were really good at math, so I wanted to ask you some math questions. Then we might play a couple games. Is that alright?”

Fives’s brow crinkled and his eyes darted between Mr. Plo and Rex. From the look Rex didn’t doubt Fives knew this was a test, but the boy eventually shrugged and muttered a quiet affirmative.

Fives made it all the way through to multiplication before he started having problems answering the principal’s questions. He clearly did not know his times tables, but from what Rex could remember, that still meant he was on track for second grade.

After the math questions Mr. Plo pulled out a few logic puzzles and had Fives complete them. Fives seemed to do so without difficulty, filling in the picture with the correct puzzle pieces and picking the right color to finish the pattern.

The principal seemed quite pleased with the boy as he put the puzzles away, “You did a very good job, Fives. I just have one more question for you if that’s okay.”

Fives nodded, though Rex could not help but notice that the kid looked tired.

Mr. Plo slid a piece of paper and a pencil across the table, “Could you write your name for me?”

The boy visibly deflated a bit, but he said nothing and reached out, gripping the pencil awkwardly. At first Rex had no clue what Fives was writing; the lines were large and wobbly, curving in places they should not. By the time the boy got to the second vaguely “s” shaped letter, Rex realized what “name” he had been writing and reached out gently to still Fives’s arm.

Large brown eyes looked up at Rex in confusion.

“Fives…” Rex started softly, “That’s your other name. Could you spell ‘Fives’ for us?”

Fives squirmed in his seat, looking down at the paper for a long moment before meeting Rex’s eyes, “This is the only one I’ve seen before.”

“Okay, that’s okay,” Rex whispered, and he honestly was not sure if that was for his son’s benefit or his own. He reached out and flipped the paper over, “Do you know what letter ‘Fives’ starts with?”

The boy opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. The room was so quiet Rex could practically hear the tears welling in Fives’s eyes before he saw them. He sprung into action, scooping up the already shaking boy and shushing him softly, hoping to stay the torrent of “I’m sorry”s that were sure to follow.

“It’s okay,” Rex soothed, shooting an apologetic look to Plo before turning his attention back to Fives. “It’s alright if you don’t know. Nobody’s mad. I’m not mad. Mr. Plo’s not mad. It’s okay.”

Fives sniffled against Rex, but Rex could tell the boy was already calming down, his breathing slowing to his usual rhythm.

Rex set Fives back down in his seat, but kept his hand on the boy's shoulder, “Today was a tough day, but you did a really good job, okay? A really good job. I’m proud of you.”

Fives wiped at his eyes, his ears turning a bit red as he mumbled a shy thanks.

Mr. Plo cleared his throat, “Thank you so much for answering my questions, Fives.”

The boy nodded.

Plo continued, “I would like to place you in the class that we sat in on today, if that sounds good to you. The other children will be your age and will be on similar levels in most subjects.”

The principal paused and studied Fives, “Now, Fives, you’re a smart boy and you’re probably going to notice that the other kids in your class are better at reading than you, but can I tell you a secret?”

Fives frowned and looked from Rex to Mr. Plo.

Plo leaned over the desk and lowered his voice conspiratorially, “Your intuition and logic skills are beyond those of many children twice your age.”

Fives shifted in his seat, “R-really?”

The principal nodded, “It’s quite impressive. You'll be reading in no time.”

Fives left the school with higher spirits than when he had entered and that was enough to convince Rex it was the right place to send the twins. As he was setting up for Fives to start the next week and for Echo to start after the holiday break his phone rang.

It was Kix.

"What?" Fives asked after Rex hung up.

Rex smiled, "Go get in the car, we're going to go see your brother."

@marierg @stressed-cherry @ffdemon @renton6echo @bambambunny @tearfulsolace @rndmpeep @brokenphoenix99 @nerdy-valkyrie @xylionet @tazmbc1 @eyayah123 @the-bad-batch-baroness @sarcastic-nebula @ihaventpickedausername @sexysmeagolshitposting @emma-1409 @marcadamia

[lemon-russ]

I am all weird and feverish and migraine-y and its like 1am, so please enjoy this small aside I have written to segway the next arc of this tropey silly self indulgent fic <3

Also on phone so formatting is off

--------------- 💀 ------------------

(We have dividers at home/ dividers at home:)

7.5 / ???

1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7 :: 7.5 :: 8 :: 9 :: 10

Cato Sicarius x F!reader

(But not right now this ain't about him)

CW: description of a panic attack

Summary: Ambassador does not want to take a break from work. And is NOT the family pet mortal. Maybe.

Word count: 955

Warning, very minimal editing and I'm dyslexic, like actually literally, so there may be more mistakes than usual. Apologies.

You resume much of your normal work again after the disaster of your last meeting. Thankfully the few meetings you have for the next couple of days are just diplomats and officials you work with regularly.

Most you don't need any sort of guarding, either they come to you or are Astartes from other chapters. In the time you aren't meeting people, you are in your little office connected to Guilliman's, doing paperwork. You're not supposed to be, of course, but you sneak it. He really worries too much.

You're writing out come contracts and supply logistics when there's a knock on your door. “Open.” You say automatically. Guilliman opens the door and steps in, frowning at your paper pile. You keeo writing, glance up, glance back down, then snap your head up and drop your pen, covering the papers with your arms and smiling sheepishly up at the primarch.

“Ah, My Lord, what a surprise!” You chuckle out nervously. He frowns and rolls his eyes, pulling up a much too small chair and sitting across from your desk. “Ambassador, are you alergic to relaxing?” He asks tiredly. “This is the 3rd time in 2 days I've found you sneaking work. This is usually the opposite of how these things go- most people sre sneaking not working, you know.” He says, laying his hands in his lap and sitting up straight and polite. It's a comical sight, he looks like the chair is for children when he uses it.

You grimace at him. “Sir, please, these are already overdue, and I don't want to take time if it just piles up my work for later-” you plead. He chuckles a little, then stands and reaches over your desk. In one motion he sweeps all of your work into his other hand. You gasp. “Sir- please- there's an order to those-” you panic, running to his side and trying to take the papers back.

He chuckles more, holding them far above your reaching hands. “Ambassador, I will be taking over your duties for a couple days. And because I can't trust you not to sneak around and work, I am forced to assign you a babysitter.”

You look up at him, horrified, “my lord, theres a delicate ecosystem to my filing system- wait, did you really call them a babysitter?” You squeak indignantly. He grins, “yes, not a guard, a babysitter, because you are behaving like a disobedient child.” He turns on his heel and strides to the door. “And I'm sure I can manage your delicate ecosystem of paperwork for 3 days.”

You think you're having a panic attack. Your stomach lurches, your head is fuzzy, you can't catch your breath- “three days? Please, my lord- i have so many meetings, I'm going to be so behind, my filing system is based on vibes and very specific-”

He smiles a little softer. “This right here- this is why. Look at you. You're spiraling because I'm offering to take work off of you. You need a vacation, Ambassador.” He walks back and rubs your back soothingly, not unfamiliar with your reactions like this. “It's going to be fine. Fun, even. I'm sending you somewhere nice.”

You take deep breaths, counting forward and back to 10 in your mind- did he say send? “you're making me go somewhere too?” You whimper. He sighs and chuckles. “It's a nice place, a safe, pretty planet, lots of hotsprings and dancing, beautiful weather. Please, ambassador. Think of it like an assignment if it helps. I'm giving you a mission to go to this lovely, calm place for a few days with Commander Titus and a couple others, so that you don't just up and die on me too early.” He chided softly.

Five things you can see, four things you can hear, three things you can smell-

Guilliman sighs. “Okay, okay, I'll give you the rest of the day to work and set things up in a way that you can leave to me easier. Would that help?”

You frown, scrunching your brow. You could label some folders, put dates on them, Guilliman was of course very good at organizing and following instructions, it wouldn't be too bad if you were very clear with the labels…. You let out a long, defeated sigh. “Fine…” you submit. “I'll…. Take a vacation…” you mumble.

The primarch grins at you, patting your back. “Excellent. I'll inform the commander and have thing prepared for this evening.” He stands, handing back your papers. You take them and trudge back to your desk, pouting. He chuckles. “There there, ambassador. Why don't I make you your favorite tea, hm?” He offered.

You purse your lips a bit, trying to stay grumpy. You have a thought that this feels a lot like being treated like a pet, but shake it off. You don't have time to unpack how an immortal demigod superhuman might see a particularly favored mortal. You're not a pet though. You're pretty sure.

“Hmm, what if I got those lottle cakes you like to go with them?” He offered, smiling fondly at you.

You cracked a smile, and a few minutes later, sat at your desk sipping tea and eating cakes happily. You sit up and frown a bit. Wait an warp damned minute, you’re a pet!

You frown at your snacks a long moment. Then sigh and keep eating. Could be worse, really. Best to just never ever think about it again, you decide, happily kicking your feet and doing your work.

[weministertomonsters]

A Shift In Character - 2

Tagging those who wanted Part 2 👀 @a-catgirl @red-white-black @otherworldly-creatures-blog

The music pounds in your ribcage and you grimace, weaving through the crowd with one hand clamped on the top of your cup to keep the contents safe. A few people shoot interested looks your way, but you didn't come here to have fun tonight. You don't find the man. Rather, he finds you.

"Looking for someone, darling?" a familiar voice rasps in your ear as large hands tug you back against a firm chest.

You gasp and try to steady your cup.

"Do you enjoy sneaking up on people?" You demand, startling when his lips brush against your neck.

"He left you unsatisfied again," he says.

You twist around to face him. "How do you know? It's like you're reading my mind."

"I have a way with these things," he grins, pulling you even closer. "You were upset and you came to find me. Should I be flattered?"

"Don't think too much of it. I only want to get laid," you hear yourself say.

You should stop now, a small voice in your head pipes up. You're going to regret this.

The devil on your shoulder cackles. When was the last time you slept with your husband? And here you have a good-looking stranger offering to give you what he won't. This is a rare opportunity, don’t waste it.

Someone bumps you and your hand jerks, tipping your drink all over you. The chips of ice in it stick to your skin and you gasp.

"Apologize," your Mystery Man glowers with anger and grabs the arm of the person who bumped into you.

The person turns around. It's a young man who's covered in tattoos. He looks a little spaced out.

"My bad bro," he says. "Sweet dress though."

It's a nightgown. You weren't thinking when you stormed out of your apartment, in fact, you’d even forgotten that was what you were wearing. So that's why the taxi driver was staring at you in the rearview mirror the entire time. You grab the edges of your jacket and pull it closed.

"It's fine," you say. "Shit happens."

But your mystery man doesn't look satisfied.

"Not good enough," he says, before he punches the guy right in the face.

Like wildfire, the fight spreads until several people are pushing and shoving at each other. You stumble into a corner, rubbing your upper arm where a stray punch caught you.

"I should have just stayed home," you mumble.

Mystery Man pops out of the fray, laughing. He's bleeding from a small cut on his eyebrow.

"Let's get out of here," he says, grabbing your hand.

"And go where exactly?" You stumble after him, glad that you're wearing sensible shoes.

"I know a place. Do you trust me?"

"What a cheesy question. Of course not."

Something about him is compelling though, so despite your words you follow him anyway. You're not under the influence of alcohol this time, so you're very aware something is a little off. You want to know what it is.

"The park?" You utter as he leads you into it. "That's what you had in mind? Great spot for murder."

He releases your hand and backs a few feet away from you, opening his arms wide. "I'm not going to hurt you, Jane Doe."

"Haha, very clever play on words there. So you don't know my name? We didn't introduce ourselves last week?"

"You were too busy playing with me to care."

Your cheeks warm up and you look away, digging your hands into the pockets of your jacket.

"Maybe it's better this way, not knowing who I am, I mean," you mumble, shivering as the wind curls around your bare legs.

"Cold?"

"Yeah. Going out like dressed like this was a bad move."

"C'mere. I can warm you up."

It's not the best idea and not the safest, but you decide to throw caution to the wind. You step into his arms and let them envelop you. He's surprisingly warm, even though all he's wearing is a thin, long-sleeved shirt.

"You're a strange man," you murmur with your cheek pressed against his chest, hoping your makeup isn't ruining his shirt.

"Funny, I get that a lot,” he says, pushing your hair to the side and pressing his lips against your neck.

You shiver, and not from the cold this time. The bite he gave you has long since healed and you're not sure whether you want to push him away or let him do it again. No words are exchanged, but he seems to sense the moment when you give up your internal struggle. He tips your face up to his, smirking. His smile looks painfully sharp.

"Your teeth," you murmur.

"Do you care?" He asks, licking his bottom lip.

"I probably should," you hum, and then you kiss him.

This is what you were missing. Sparks fly up your arms and tingle against your lips as you drag him closer. You're overwhelmed by the desire deep inside to bite him, mark him, make him yours. He lets you do whatever you want, pushing him into the grass and nipping at his neck. You like his cologne. It's a musky, natural scent. You make a mental note to ask him later, so you can douse your stupid husband in the stuff.

He’s is receptive to your touch, sighing appreciatively, almost growling. That rough sound makes your pussy ache. You're breathless, panting for air as you yank at his belt. If you had shaken yourself out of your haze long enough, you would have noticed his eyes glowing as his head rested in the grass. You would have noticed his sharpened fingernails and the sudden broadness of his body. You would have been afraid.

Midnight blue clouds blot out the light of the moon until you can barely see him. That's okay. You straddle his hips, straightening up so you can concentrate on undoing his belt.

"That's it," he practically drawls. "Take what you want. I'm all yours."

You finally get his belt loose and toss it, then go gentle with the zipper. You don't want to hurt him. His hands are trembling, digging into the generous softness of your hips. His nails are almost too sharp.

You open up his jeans and find he doesn't have underwear on, which makes you smile. Did he do that for you? In the dark, your hands feel the shape and size of him, and you pause when you feel how thick he is at the base. He bucks at your touch.

"Go on, take me. Are you really want to back out now?" He goads.

"No," you hiss back. "Shut up."

You bite your lip and shimmy out of your underwear, tossing it somewhere in the grass. You straddle him again and press his cock against your dripping entrance. Oh, he's big.

You have to brace a hand against his chest and force yourself to take it slowly. It burns in the most delicious of ways. Each breath he takes in is accompanied by an unnatural growl. Something dangerous is happening here. You put a hand up to his face and feel his beard. You slide your hand along his neck, and the scruff seems to go much farther than that. You put both hands on his chest and lean down, squinting at his face and glowing eyes.

Your eyes open wide and you suck in a breath to make a sound, maybe a startled scream, and he clamps his hand over your mouth and pushes his hips up into you, thrusting in as deep as he can go with a triumphant sound. If your thighs weren't spread open so wide, they would have snapped shut. You hiss against his hand but can't offer anything more than that. You lean limply against him as his arms hold you up, and take what he gives you, bunching up his shirt in your fists.

Your eyes are wide and your heart patters in your chest. You're terrified and so, so turned on. This is no man. The meager moonlight lets you see just enough to know that. He's sneering up at you with a mouth full of far too many teeth, with twitchy pointed ears hidden in his hair, and with eyes that glint in cruel amusement. He has you trapped and you both know it.

But even if he pressed those brutish hands of his against the ground to signify your chance at freedom, for you to jump up and run, you wouldn't leave him. You can't because it feels too good. A silent tear rolls down your cheek and he pulls you down and licks it away, rumbling in pleasure.

"I like it when they fight it," he whispers in your ear.

That's the deal breaker. They? They?? You smack him and roll off to the side, snarling in your own angry, human way. He laughs again, flips you over on your back, and drags you closer. Your legs flop over his as he sits on his haunches in front of you.

"We're not done yet," he says, and his cock throbs against your stomach.

You look down. A timely gap in the clouds gives enough moonlight for you to realize he's not human down there either. You begin to shudder uncontrollably.

"There, there. You liked it just fine before," he chuckles.

The hulking mass of his body presses down on you again.

"I'm still me, sweetheart," he says as he thrusts into you again.

You inhale that primal scent of his and clutch his shoulders, deciding between holding him closer or pushing him away.

"I... I made a mistake," you whimper, your breath hitching as he rocks into you. "I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't. What kind of hunter would I be then?"

"Please don't kill me!" You squeak. "I'll be good, I promise."

He shows his teeth. "Then start by shutting the fuck up. If it's not a sound of pleasure I don't want to hear it."

That makes you throb hard around him.

"So that's what you like, hmm?" Smugness vibrates through him and you hate him for figuring it out.

He begins to move his hips and you begin to lose your senses again. He barely fits and each slow thrust reminds you of that. The tension in your body melts away, and he returns to praising you.

"Accept me, darling. Let me in. There we are. That wasn’t so difficult, is it?"

"Harder," you beg. "Please."

When you asked, you didn't expect him to take your request and run with it. You jump as his hips bunch forward and he crams himself into you. All but the very base of him, which is so thick there's no way it can fit. Your moans become staccato and you cling to him for dear life because it feels like he's about to tip you off a cliff into an abyss of pleasure.

"Go on," he growls in your ear, panting just as hard as you. "You want to."

I'm scared, you think. I'm so fucking scared of how this ends.

There's little you can do to stop your orgasm. You squirm and dig your fingernails into his arms and he only laughs at you. The sensations running through you are so intense you're nearly sobbing. When all semblance of control slips out of your fingertips, you're completely lost. You register him picking up his pace, slamming so obscenely into you that you're going to feel it tomorrow.

"Come on," he says through gritted teeth and you can only whimper in response.

What more can he possibly want from you? You've given everything you have. Well, almost everything. With one last brutal thrust, the rest of him slips into you with such finality that you lose your breath and climax again, shivering from the heat and the cold, the pain and the pleasure. Now he’s definitely too big.

He's heavy on top of you even though he's supporting most of his body weight on his hands. He's openly purring now; there is no way you can pretend that's normal. You press a hand down between you and feel the place where you're joined together.

"What did you do?" You gasp. "What the hell did you do?"

"Relax," he says, rolling onto his back and gently pulling you on top of him.

You can feel his cock still pulsing inside of you and you lie limply against him and feel the small twitches of his hips, the way he stiffens at intervals, the way heat seems to keep pouring into you.

"None of it makes sense," you whisper. "You're stuck inside me."

"Deep down, you've already figured it out," he says.

No. No, it can't be.

Your phone lights up in the grass, an arm’s reach away and you see the screen.

Stay where you are, I'm coming to get you, the text message reads.

You grab your phone and see that you sent a text a few minutes ago that says: 

I'm in the park. I think I'm in trouble, please come.

You didn't send that text.

"You..." You begin to tremble in anger.

You forget that you're still tied to him and when you try to sit up you both yelp in pain.

"See, I've staged it perfectly. He's not going to blame you," Mystery Man groans.

"You're sick!" You snap, squirming uselessly in his lap. "I should've never come looking for you again."

His features look more normal now like he's regained control of himself. A minute goes by. You shut your eyes and take in deep breaths. When you open your eyes, his own flick towards something in the distance. You snap your head around, dreading your husband finding you in this position, stuck to another man who isn't even human. It's too dark for you to see what he's looking at though.

With your head turned like that, he has the perfect angle and opportunity to bite you. You let out a bloodcurdling scream as his teeth sink in. This is a real bite and you can feel the blood trickling down your skin and soaking into your nightgown.

And then you hear your husband calling your name.

"Nathan!" You scream.

You yank yourself away, hissing in pain as his cock finally pops out of you. You fall into the grass.

And then there's the glare of a light against you. You roll over and squint up into it. You know you look terrible; leaves in your hair and dirt and blood on your skin, and cum dripping from between your legs. Indeed, it's perfectly staged. You look like a victim.

Mystery Man rises, zipping up his jeans which hang loosely on his hips. His belt is lost in the grass somewhere along with your underwear.

"What the hell?" Nathan demands, his gaze bouncing between the two of you.

You scramble unsteadily to your feet and humiliatingly, you feel more cum leaks down your thigh.

"Nathan," you gasp.

Mystery Man laughs. "She screamed for you," he says to your husband.

That's a lie, and a very deliberately worded one at that.

Oh god, no, you think as you realize exactly what he said that for. 

Nathan doesn't hesitate to drop his phone and blindly attack the man, fighting valiantly, and stupidly for your honor. But Nathan doesn't know this guy, he hasn't seen him the way you have. He's going to rip your husband to shreds.

"Stop!" You shriek, but neither of them listen.

You stand there with your hands pressed to your mouth, horrified. Mystery Man is far stronger than Nathan, that much is clear. He's toying with him, letting him stumble around as he tries to land a punch. Despite being bulkier, Mystery Man moves like air.

"Nathan, no! He's dangerous!" You call out, crying.

This isn’t what you wanted, or even imagined would happen. Nathan is lost to the world. He charges at the man again, and the man crushes him in a hug and takes them both down. They roll down a small hill in a tangle of limbs and you stumble after them, pleading for your husband's life.

Nathan begins to yell curses and threats. You want to call the police, but you discover your phone is missing and Nathan's is crushed on the ground. Your heart sinks when you hear Nathan make a sound, a sort of high-pitched squeal.

"Fucking hell, he's biting me!" He yelps.

You crash onto the ground beside them and punch the man, scratch his body, you even sink your teeth into his arm.

For a moment you're face to face with him, his glimmering eyes watching you silently with his teeth buried in Nathan's neck. Nathan is leaning back on his elbows, his head tilted away from you. His breathing is harsh and panicked. He's unable to form words, all he can do is whine. Your blunt teeth are hardly doing any damage, but you clamp down as hard as you can until you taste blood on your tongue. You feel like an animal too, kneeling on the ground over your husband.

Finally, Mystery Man releases Nathan and he falls heavily onto the floor, staring up at the sky in a daze. You let Mystery Man's hand go and spitting blood to the side, you cradle Nathan to your chest.

"You've killed him," you sob.

Nathan's breath rattles in his throat. He’s not dead yet.

"He'll live," Mystery Man says, picking himself off the ground.

You gape up at him, hurt, scared, angry.

"I'm giving you what you want," he says. "You wanted your husband to love you."

"But how? How does this make sense? He's bleeding all over me. He's going to die!"

"Men generally have it harder. In a few minutes, he'll be fine. Take him back to your home and keep him there until he's back to himself. Understood?"

Dazed and helpless, you nod.

Mystery Man drops your phone beside you and begins to walk away. His voice drifts back towards you from the darkness.

"He's yours now. Completely."

And then his footsteps fade away, and you're left clutching your broken, bleeding husband.

Part 3

[nakedcleric]

little pocket (tetsutetsu x reader)

♥ pairing: Tetsutetsu x reader

♥ wc: 650

♥ synopsis: You, a cheerful and dumb rookie, join Tetsutetsu's hero team and quickly catch senpai's eye. He makes it a point to turn you into his personal fleshlight.

tws and tags: Size Kink, Coercion, Anal, Mouth spitting, Hairpulling, Watersports, Rough sex, No safe words, Dubious consent

Note: Everyone is +20 and working on hero agencies

Being the new addition to the hero team formed by Itsuka, Ibaraki, Monoma and Tetsu, and immediately catching the eye of the latter. You're a little bit younger than them, inexperienced, and immediately adopted as the little sister of the team. You're tiny, cheerful and full of admiration for your more experienced senpais, and would do anything to earn their favour. Luckily for you, they're all quickly attached to your airhead self. Itsuka kindly guides you through the ropes, Ibaraki mothers you, Monoma teases you and Tetsu... Well, he wants to fuck you.

You're so fucking small compared to him, so innocent and inexperienced. The kind of little thing he wants to throw around the bedroom as he pleases, as there is little you could do to stop him from whatever he wants. The perfect little pocket pussy.

It's easy to get you to trust him, really. He doesn't miss the way you gasp and smile whenever he takes bullets for you during hero duty, easily stopping anything on your way with his iron muscles. He also doesn't miss the way you blush a little bit whenever he brushes off your many thank yous and tells you he will always protect his cute little junior. You're too naive for your own good, really. You're lucky that he has enough self control to not pin you against the ground and mount you right there until you cry.

With enough time, he manages to create the illusion that he's like a big brother for you, the one you never had, and it makes you giddy to be so special to an experienced hero like him. Fortunately for him, you're too fucking stupid to realize his real intentions.

Stupid enough that he somehow talks you into showering with him, with some excuse about how it's okay because you're both in a rush and he won't look anyways. You're like his little sister, he would never lay a hand on you.

Bullshit.

You're half his size, maybe even smaller, and he enjoys the way your tiny frame gets absolutely dwarfed by him, loves it even more when you look a little bit scared of how big he is compared to you, knowing he could snap your neck with one hand. He pushes you against the wet shower walls, easily lifts you off the ground and presses your bodies together, his nose right against yours. You can feel his huge, hard cock pressing against your thigh, more threatening than any of the villains you've recently fought.

He takes your virginity right there, in the least romantic, most lewd situation your tiny brain could ever muster, and all you remember from it is your pained moans being muffled by the wet marble of the walls as he fucks you from behind, and his pleased grunts against your ear as he bites your lobe and thrusts into you like an animal in heat. Your feet dangling in the air, unable to escape from the big, bad wolf that has caught you.

He slowly makes you his little sex toy, breaking your mind into pieces and doing degenerate shit to you that you that you would have never even considered before. Stuff like shoving a thick finger up your ass while you're riding his cock, loving the way your face twists in discomfort, growling at you if you dare try to take it out. Finishing a beer and then drunkenly shoving the bottle inside you, seeing if he can make you squirt inside it if he fucks you hard enough with it. Pissing on you for fun, just to watch you suffer but also reluctantly take it like a pathetic little doll, not hesitating in pulling your hair with his strong hands if you dare even grimace.

You take it all reluctantly, but obediently. After all, you don't want to disappoint your senpai, even if he bullies you.

[starpirateee]

Fun fact this is the first time I'm properly writing for either of them.... but this is another banger from @snarky-wallflower , so I hope you enjoy!

"So... you're the guy who's never left Hatchetfield, right?"

Paul adjusted his position in the passenger seat of Emma's car, looking over his shoulder to try and find the seatbelt. He'd told her that about three weeks ago, during one of the longest conversations he'd been allowed to have with her while she was at work. It had been just an admission that carried on the conversation, but Emma had been largely surprised to hear it.

Today was a bland Saturday that otherwise wouldn't have been filled with anything. Emma had invited him on a surprise, and nervous as he had been, he trusted her. That wasn't likely to be a bad experience.

"Nope," he clarified, clicking the seatbelt into place and absently running his hand over the material. "Never had a reason to leave, so I never did."

"But you don't wanna see what's out there?"

"I guess I never really thought about it."

Emma's eyebrow quirked, and an amused expression crossed her face. "Well, that's what this is! You said you don't wanna move away, and yeah, that's fine and all, but you've never gotten outta town at all, so I thought... How about a road trip? Just for the day! You'll be back here in this shitty, shitty town by tomorrow!"

For a moment, Paul faltered, and his gaze stayed fixed on Emma for a few seconds. "A road trip?" He echoed, really thinking it over. He'd never taken a road trip before... The idea of spending hours at a time driving with no destination, eating packaged sandwiches out of gas stations and stopping just because of a nice view... It had never really stood out to him as something he wanted to do.

But, then again, he'd be doing it with Emma. Did that change the game? She seemed like she knew what she was doing, and any excuse to hang out with her was a good one.

"I mean, we don't have to if you don't want," She leaned against the wheel, waiting on his response. This was her way of mediating his desire to stay in Hatchetfield with her desire to get as far from it as possible. She was starting to warm to the idea of staying- pretty much entirely because of him- but god only knows she would crack if she had to spend every single day trapped here like some caged bird. A large part of her really hoped he'd agree.

"No- uh- I want to, I think... It's just unexpected."

She smiled a little. "Thought it might be fun, y'know? You can have first pick of the music."

With a nod, she motioned towards the cable running from her radio dock. Paul stared at it for a moment, tilting his head. Before too much time could pass, he picked up her phone, she muttered the passcode at him, and he started the scroll through her music library.

Emma revved the engine into action. "Hey man, warning," she put on a playful tone, causing Paul to look up suddenly from the albums he was sifting through. "There's only one bridge out, for about forty minutes we're going to be driving the highway through Clivesdale."

Paul grimaced, and ended up selecting whichever album was currently sitting under his wavering thumb. When it started playing through the car's vaguely tinny speakers, Emma's smile grew and she nodded her approval.

"Clivesdale, huh?"

"It's really fucking boring, to be honest. Everywhere looks the same. I swear to god, if you're not careful, you could end up taking a complete wrong turn without even realising..."

"So, uh..." he began to ask as Emma pulled away from the kerb and out towards the street. "Where did you have in mind? After we've gone through Clivesdale..."

"I did think we could just make up the directions as we went along, but you're not good at spontaneity, and I barely have a sense of direction, so that one's outta the window," she chuckled, shaking her head.

"People do that? What, and they just... don't get lost?"

"Right? There's no way that's possible."

Paul noticed the corner of a badly folded paper map sticking out of the glove compartment, and hummed. He was under some kind of impression that Emma knew how to get around better than he did, but it was nice to find some kind of kinship in someone else with absolutely no sense of direction.

"... So how about we just start in Michigan and see how far we get?"

He nodded, turning his gaze towards the open road. "Sounds like a plan."

[300yearschallenge]

Charles Elias sighed heavily and fiddled with the tool in his hand. Today he and Theodore were in the boathouse fixing up a rowboat so it would be seaworthy before summer.

"What's wrong?" Theodore paused and looked up at Charles Elias from across the boat. "That's the third time you've sighed in as many minutes."

"It's nothing," Charles Elias said, fidgeting slightly.

Theodore's expression softened, "Is it about Josef? I understand it must still be very hard on you."    

Charles Elias grimaced slightly. He almost wished it was.

He was sad about his uncle's passing, of course he was, but the truth was that it was not his grief that was gnawing on him.

He sighed again.

"Alright," Theodore sat up, putting his tools aside, "That's it. Tell me what's going on. Also don't touch the sharp side of that, you could cut yourself and get an infection."

"It's stupid, you shouldn't worry," Charles Elias said, putting his hammer away.

"Well, I do," Theodore said, "So please tell me. Whatever it is, I promise I won't judge."

Charles Elias hesitated slightly, chewing on the inside of his cheek, before he began to speak,

"It's about Laura. I… I accidently upset her a while back, and she asked me to leave her alone, and I have! I have..."

"So, then what's the matter?" Theodore said.

Charles Elias sighed, "I just don't know how to get her to like me now."

Theodore was silent for a bit, "Well… Does she need to?"

"What?"

"Does she need to like you?" Theodore said, "Us all living on this homestead still works, doesn't it? She's hardly spitting in your food."

Charles Elias frowned, "Well, no. I guess not. But…"

"But?"

"But, I don't know. Like I said, it's stupid."

There was a momentary pause, and then Theodore sighed.

"Look, in the years I've lived here I've only come to know Laura a little bit, but from what I can tell she's a flighty thing. You must understand that she's been woefully mistreated by some of the villagers. Either they view her as someone to be pitied, or someone to be ridiculed.

So she keeps to herself.

It may be she never comes to like you, merely tolerate you like she has me. And if that is the case, then so be it. There's just some people who won't like you--"

"-- I know that!"

"And," Theodore continued unfazed, "There's no point in dwelling on it. If she changes her mind some day then she changes her mind, and if she doesn't then she doesn't."

"But what if she hates me forever?"

Theodore shrugged, "Then I suppose Mr. Isak sends us both away and we have to find another place to live. It wouldn't be fun, but I'm sure we'd be able to find something."

Charles Elias pouted slightly and fidgeted again. It wasn't their job he was worried about. And it wasn't as if Charles Elias was unused to someone disliking him!

He wished he could make Theodore understand that it wasn't about any of that. It was about peace of mind. And guilt. And… and…

"Just focus on your job for now, and give Laura some time. You only just got here after all."

When Charles Elias opened his mouth to say something, Theodore continued, "Trust me, kid."

Kid.

A smile tugged at Charles Elias' lips.

He called him kid! Did he know? Was it just a saying? A statement of affection from mentor to mentee? Or…?

Laura all but forgotten, Charles Elias finally relented and grinned.

"Fine, fine," he said, "I'll take your word for it. Just this once, old man."

[colderdrafts]

8: Preparations and anticipations

Underground visitor, gn reader x monster (male drider). Sfw. Previous Next

It's early in the morning back in the living room. You're seated once again on a sheepskin close to the fire, and Dren has spent most of the morning rummaging around his storage and seemingly sorting his items.

He’s been climbing all over the room left and right - a little slower than usual, after your stern reminder to be mindful of his injuries - and pulling out different knickknacks from holes in the ceiling and walls you hadn’t even noticed were there.

"Did you manage to find out what you're going to do with your off-world business?" Dren asks, perfectly content sideways and up high. He’s holding up some sort of tough straw, inspecting them carefully with a frown.

You swallow a mouthful of oats - desperately missing any taste at all - and reiterate to him what the barkeep told you. “Marketplace, early in the morning after half and full moons. Find a red tent, and talk to the harpy.”

Dren’s mandibles click as he exhales in annoyance, picking out several strands.

"I've heard of that harpy," he grimaces. "I was not aware she frequented here. She’s supposedly powerful, but she uses magic just for fun."

"Is that bad?"

"It is if you're too enthusiastic about it. One wrong move and she will destroy the entire marketplace."

You raise a slightly judgmental eyebrow at him, as he did that himself barely a day ago. He catches it and averts his gaze, a little sheepish.

"Granted, I had something more pressing than 'fun' on my mind," he mutters, and climbs down.

"After a half or full moon," you repeat, letting him off the hook. "Do you know when the next one is?"

"A week from now is a full moon," he offers. He folds his legs and sits down, laying out the strands in front of him, sorting them by length. He nods at your breakfast. "In any case, we will need to get more supplies to keep you better sustained if you are to stay here for the time being. You can't live on only that."

"Probably not," you sigh, moving the pitiful porridge around in the cup. "But we're going to run into the same issue as last time. I don't want you to leave the eggs at risk because of me."

He smiles. "I know. And thank you for your concern. This is why we're bringing them this time," he says, nodding at the tough straws he's now rapidly tying together with practiced ease.

You watch him weave for a minute, hands moving so quick you almost can't keep track of which thread is going where. Pretty quickly he's managed to create a starting point for what you assume will become some sort of basket.

Wait.

"Bringing them? How is that in any way safer?" you argue.

“It's not, exactly," he agrees, "but it's the better option in this case. 'Safer' is where-ever the two of us are present.”

You scoot over to sit next to him, slightly mesmerized by the process of his work. “I guess so, but what if something happens out there again? It didn’t exactly go swimmingly yesterday.”

“Yesterday was ill planned. I left in a hurry and did what I could to ensure them here, because I did not know what to expect outside. We have time to rectify that now. If we run into trouble, I will now trust you to protect them while I take care of it,” he says, eyes still on his work.

While the fact he feels he can entrust them to you is moving, you’re still not sure it’s a good idea. "Seriously Dren, if it's only for a week I can-"

"No," he chuckles, gently cutting you off. "Even if you could, we're going to run out in any case. I will not have my guest starving, and I will not leave my young again. This way, I can keep my eyes on all of you at the same time."

He turns the humble beginnings of his work around to carefully inspect it for a moment. "Besides, since there will be two of us, I have an actual opportunity to stock up on some things. I've been having the oddest craving for dried fruits these past few days."

It is true, there's not really any good options here. You do unfortunately need to eat.

Dren probably isn't letting you go get supplies on your own in any case after what has just transpired, and you'd be lying if you said you're entirely comfortable doing it yourself anyway.

Even if it turns out Morgan really is dead.

Something prickles uncomfortably under your skin at the thought, and you forcefully will it away.

"Can we even go back to the marketplace after all of this?" you ask to distract yourself. "We didn't exactly leave it in a good state."

"Yes," Dren says, shrugging. His lower body absentmindedly taps its front legs, claws clicking on the floor. "Who would stop us?"

“Fair point.”

Still, it feels odd to just nonchalantly wander back into the place that was just destroyed because of you. And even odder to force Dren back there after he just got hurt.

You glance over at him, calmly weaving the thread in his hands, the bruises and scrapes littering his body still looking raw and very visible. He’s still partially covered in web for the particularly gnarly ones.

Dren catches you looking, and takes note of your apprehension.

"Ah, don't feel guilty. This isn't the first time a custodian skirmish has ended poorly for that place. There's procedures for that. By now everything will be back in a regular state anyway," he reassures you.

"That's some efficient carpentry," you joke. "The entire plaza was wrecked."

"Magic," he leaves it at, smiling at you.

“And what about you? You’re still injured.”

“I am, but a good nights’ rest always helps,” he says. “And I’ll have another before we go tomorrow morning. I’ll be fine. These little marks are nothing to worry about.”

You cog an eyebrow at him. “Dude, your leg was literally torn open and oozing.”

“That’s why I have eight of them. Come now, I didn’t even have to tear it off to regrow.”

“Tear it-!” you protest, incredulous.

Dren laughs. A leg curls around where you’re sitting, and the movement seemed so natural you’re not entirely sure he’s aware he did it. Regardless, it sort of makes you want to lean further into him.

“Now look who’s a – what was that word you used? A ‘worry-wart?’” he teases.

“Sure, sure, I’m a worrywart too,” you huff, glancing at the clawed, hairy appendage at your side. “Someone has to keep an eye on you.”

You feel the tough carapace of his leg brushing against your back and freeze. Dren eyes you with a very soft expression, but there’s certainly fondness in the look. He’s completely still for once, just keeping the silence for a bit.

“..you good?” you ask to break it, avoiding the fluster that’s creeping up on you.

Dren hums in thought, still just looking at you. “I’m quite alright.”

He returns his attention to the thread in front of him, resuming his weaving. “We’ll need something to trade when we get to the marketplace. Luckily I have a lot of spare items lying about. There's been an oddly large opportunity to collect the past year."

Collect, you inwardly cringe. That's one word for how he gets his stuff. It’s little whiplash reminders like this that brings you back into the reality that Dren is not only an anxious, protective and sweet arachnid who lives in a cave.

Better not think too hard on it, or you'll just make yourself nauseous.

Speaking of nausea -

"When I met Morgan, I saw them use some sort of blue crystal for payment," you share. "Let's just hope the common-folk don't have that as a preference, then."

"A blue crystal?" Dren asks, bewildered. "I did not realize they had started using those for trading. I may be behind on current trends."

Come to think of it, that crystal Morgan gave the barkeep does seem familiar. "Dren, don't you have an entire room in the cave basically full of those?"

He stares ahead a moment in realization. "Huh. I suppose I do. I just thought they were pleasing to look at when I dug them out."

You remember the inside of one of the cave openings he showed you during the storm, full of the sparkling blue sheen. "I think we're good, wares wise."

"And I think I know why there was a sudden influx of trespassers the past year," he muses.

You spend most of the day preparing for the trip back. Dren carefully weaves a basket large enough to comfortably house his eggs, and spends a lot of time fuzzing about it and webbing up its interior. He makes sure it's structurally sound and very soft internally, so nothing can happen to whatever is nestled inside of it.

He remains seated most of the time he works, most likely saving his strength and resting up from the vicious fight yesterday. He seems chipper, though, all things considered, throwing warm glances, small jokes and pleasantries your way whenever you pass him by as you do your end of the tasks.

Said tasks includes picking out items that you won’t have use for, and sorting them in different piles. You put things back in the places you can reach, and the ones you can't, you leave for Dren to put back later.

Once that's done, you venture to the cave full of blue crystals, using a small pickax you found among the assorted tools Dren has collected, to chip some out. It takes some time and effort, but you manage to collect a small bunch to keep in the satchel at your side.

You pause as you spot your home clothes still inside of it, faintly wondering if anyone back home have started looking for you.

They must have at this point. You wonder how they will feel when they realize you're nowhere to be found, as it would seem those superstitions you heard when you first moved there proved to be correct. And now, you're just fuel for that story to continue. What happens to that story when you get back and reiterate your experience?

If you get back, that is. You can only hope you’ll have a better shot at knowing for sure in a week.

You bring the clothes to your face and breathe in, the smell of your home engulfing your senses. It's odd that you've come to a point where you can actually identify it - usually your own scent isn't too noticeable to you.

But you wont be needing those at the moment. Sentimentality can wait until you’re certain anything is actually lost. You fold them, and leave the blue cave to store them safely in the back of your sleeping pod. Right now, they’ll just weigh you down.

Afterwards you return to the living room, but you don't see Dren anywhere, neither the basket. Perhaps he's gone to check on his eggs.

You pull out a cup to get a drink of water and sit down, muscles sore from today’s work and needing a rest. You lean back and admire the swirly patterns running across the ceiling, closing your eyes to the gentle sound of fire warming the room and filling it with a soft glow.

We’ll need to refuel the lanterns soon, you make a mental note to inform the guy who can walk on the ceiling. You’re lucky he even thought to keep any around, and that he keeps it up for your sake. As he does with a lot of other things.

You understand the motivation better now, though it’s odd to have Dren throw his need to care on you, a random passerby who just happened to stumble upon him. From what you've learned, supposedly you should count yourself lucky he got to you first.

But why does he care so much, if he knows you wont be here for long? He’s content to let you go on your merry way, despite how difficult it seemingly is for him to split from you. He cares so much because that’s what he has been naturally programmed to do. Are you taking advantage of that?

He said it himself. He only shelters you because of what you are.

But the way he engages, talks to and looks at you, god when you’re being stared at by four black eyes at a time in that odd way he does - it’s difficult to look away. Like he doesn’t let you, like he wants you to see just how much he likes to focus on you. How much he wants to connect.

No strings attached.

Then why all of this effort?

Or perhaps you are just overthinking things, and it really isn’t more complicated than he’s a little lonely down here, and likes having a guest to talk to. Who could blame him?

You sit for a while, alone with your thoughts. At one point you start dozing a bit, perhaps this day took more out of you than you realized. You've definitely spent a few hours on all of the preparations, but you're still not sure what time it is, the constant darkness not offering any clue. Perhaps you should get into the habit of checking outside, and let the sun guide you. If anything it will help distract you form your current thoughts.

You grab hold of the webs leading to the tunnel that brings you to the 'window', and start climbing to have a look.

It's already dark outside again, and you smell the cool evening air brushing against your face hidden behind the rocks. You breathe it in for a bit, ignoring the subtle claustrophobia. Staring out from beneath the rocks, it can sort of feel like being trapped underground.

Not trapped, you remind yourself. You can go outside whenever you darn please.

You’re about to turn back, when something out to corner of your eye catches your attention, instantly putting you on alert. Something is moving out there.

Hidden further away in the gloom, in between the rustling trees, something big with gangly limbs ventures quietly. It’s partially obscured by the dark, and you can’t make it out completely. And yet, your breath hitches in your throat.

The dull ache in your chest, that had until now gone unnoticed, suddenly increases tenfold. Your heart starts hammering, struggling as if being forcibly pulled at. The sudden pain makes you audibly gasp.

And the entity outside halts. Its face snaps in your direction, staring straight into you despite how well you’re hidden.

Its eyes are red, and the look sends terror down your spine.

You tumble backwards, almost rolling back down the tunnel before you get a grip on the soft webbing. You haul yourself down and away, feeling cold sweat break out. The further you run, the harder to pull in your heart, like a hook is tearing at it and you're the fish trying to escape.

You stumble out back into the living room, heaving for breath, the heat of the fire doing nothing to alleviate the freezing chill in your bones.

What the fuck was that? It’s couldn’t have been them, could it?

It takes a few minutes before the pull diminishes, and the ache settles. You lean back against the wall, feeling the soil warmed from the fire, running under your fingers over the gentle swirly patterns carved into the floor. Letting the feeling remind you you're still in your body, and your heart is right where it needs to be.

And then it's gone. Everything is quiet again.

Eventually, you gather yourself and stand up, shaking it off. You stoke the fireplace, put some logs on it and chug a cup of water to drown the feeling.

"You've been quiet this evening. Are you worried about tomorrow?" Dren asks.

You’re back at the sleeping pods, settling in to get some rest. Tonight Dren decides to call it quits early as well, given the trip tomorrow will have to be conducted well in advance of dawn.

You lie flat on your back staring up into the patterns running across the ceiling of your pod, illuminated by the faint glow of your lantern. What you should tell him?

You are alright at the moment, just a little tired and sore. While the experience was intimidating, you don't want to make Dren worry over nothing - he worries enough as it is.

On the other hand, if you did see what you’re afraid you saw, he should know about it. Keeping him out of the loop of potential danger seems counterproductive if he’s supposed to be helping keeping you alive. You brace yourself for the interrogation you're about to cause.

"I had a small scare earlier,” you reply. “Spotted something moving outside while I was checking the time.”

You can practically feel Dren snapping to attention in the pod above yours, and you're thankful he can't see your partially amused face at the instant reaction.

To his credit, he tries not to sound alarmed when he speaks in a very alarmed manner. “Oh?”

“At ease,” you chuckle at him. “Nothing happened. I just spotted someone moving about, and they kind of – I guess they reminded me of Morgan.”

“..I see.”

“But I’m not sure. I don’t really see what they would be doing out here.”

You can hear a quiet chitter escape him. "Many things live in these woods. It could have been all manner of beasts and animals. Common-folk venture here as well," he offers. "Was there anything in particular that intimidated you about the thing you saw?"

You sigh through your nose. “The eyes. They were red. And my chest – I don’t know, I think I started panicking a little. It went over pretty quick, though.”

He’s quiet for a beat, contemplating. “Why did you wait until now to tell me?”

“It seemed a little on the nose to bring more worries up than necessary. We’ve got enough to deal with right now. Especially since nothing really happened.”

There’s movement above you, unraveling of limbs and scraping across the surface of the walls. Suddenly Dren’s torso is visible, peeking out upside down and peering down at you through the opening of your pod.

“Whether something ‘happened’ or not is irrelevant. If you are uneasy, I would like you to inform me so I can help you,” he says gently. “This is important. If you are worried about something, I want to know about it.”

The completely honest altruistic way he talks is almost enough to throw you off loop. So worried about you, always on guard and in tune. If it was anyone else, you might have found it suffocating. But he’s so earnest about everything he does, it’s difficult not to lean into it and let him do it.

“I’m worried about a lot of things.”

He hums, pleased. “Enlighten me?”

It’s not exactly easy to bring your troubles to the surface and speak them on command like that. Worries of your home, of your stay here, your odd relationship with him that is so difficult to pinpoint. Worried for your life, your role in this world and this odd slight pressure in the middle of your chest that just. Won’t. Quit.

But Dren is, as always, eager to help your carry your burdens, as he calmly looks at you and waits for you to speak.

You sigh, deciding to take his encouragement for what it is; genuine concern for your well-being. “Are we sure they’re actually gone?” you ask.

“No,” he admits. He thinks for a moment, and then adds with a growl: “But if they come near again, I will not hesitate to ensure that they will be.”

The comment should put you at ease. It should be a reassurance; you know for a fact Dren intends to make good on that promise. But the fact that he's able to do so, and presumably with ease, brings the same subtle nausea back.

Something in the corner of your mind speaks, unbidden and unwelcome; He’s dangerous as well. Why are you putting your faith in a someone you barely know?

Because he’s putting his faith in me, you hiss back internally, strangling the thought.

"Thank you. I think I'll go to sleep now," you say, doing your best to send Dren a reassuring smile.

It doesn't make the worried furrow of his brow vanish, but he doesn't press you. He nods, and retreats back into his own sleeping space. "Get some sleep. We'll have to leave early tomorrow."

[nendo-kyotei]

little pocket (tetsutetsu x reader)

♥ pairing: Tetsutetsu x reader

♥ wc: 650

♥ synopsis: You, a cheerful and dumb rookie, join Tetsutetsu's hero team and quickly catch senpai's eye. He makes it a point to turn you into his personal fleshlight.

tws and tags: Size Kink, Coercion, Anal, Mouth spitting, Hairpulling, Watersports, Rough sex, No safe words, Dubious consent

Note: Everyone is +20 and working on hero agencies

Being the new addition to the hero team formed by Itsuka, Ibaraki, Monoma and Tetsu, and immediately catching the eye of the latter. You're a little bit younger than them, inexperienced, and immediately adopted as the little sister of the team. You're tiny, cheerful and full of admiration for your more experienced senpais, and would do anything to earn their favour. Luckily for you, they're all quickly attached to your airhead self. Itsuka kindly guides you through the ropes, Ibaraki mothers you, Monoma teases you and Tetsu... Well, he wants to fuck you.

You're so fucking small compared to him, so innocent and inexperienced. The kind of little thing he wants to throw around the bedroom as he pleases, as there is little you could do to stop him from whatever he wants. The perfect little pocket pussy.

It's easy to get you to trust him, really. He doesn't miss the way you gasp and smile whenever he takes bullets for you during hero duty, easily stopping anything on your way with his iron muscles. He also doesn't miss the way you blush a little bit whenever he brushes off your many thank yous and tells you he will always protect his cute little junior. You're too naive for your own good, really. You're lucky that he has enough self control to not pin you against the ground and mount you right there until you cry.

With enough time, he manages to create the illusion that he's like a big brother for you, the one you never had, and it makes you giddy to be so special to an experienced hero like him. Fortunately for him, you're too fucking stupid to realize his real intentions.

Stupid enough that he somehow talks you into showering with him, with some excuse about how it's okay because you're both in a rush and he won't look anyways. You're like his little sister, he would never lay a hand on you.

Bullshit.

You're half his size, maybe even smaller, and he enjoys the way your tiny frame gets absolutely dwarfed by him, loves it even more when you look a little bit scared of how big he is compared to you, knowing he could snap your neck with one hand. He pushes you against the wet shower walls, easily lifts you off the ground and presses your bodies together, his nose right against yours. You can feel his huge, hard cock pressing against your thigh, more threatening than any of the villains you've recently fought.

He takes your virginity right there, in the least romantic, most lewd situation your tiny brain could ever muster, and all you remember from it is your pained moans being muffled by the wet marble of the walls as he fucks you from behind, and his pleased grunts against your ear as he bites your lobe and thrusts into you like an animal in heat. Your feet dangling in the air, unable to escape from the big, bad wolf that has caught you.

He slowly makes you his little sex toy, breaking your mind into pieces and doing degenerate shit to you that you that you would have never even considered before. Stuff like shoving a thick finger up your ass while you're riding his cock, loving the way your face twists in discomfort, growling at you if you dare try to take it out. Finishing a beer and then drunkenly shoving the bottle inside you, seeing if he can make you squirt inside it if he fucks you hard enough with it. Pissing on you for fun, just to watch you suffer but also reluctantly take it like a pathetic little doll, not hesitating in pulling your hair with his strong hands if you dare even grimace.

You take it all reluctantly, but obediently. After all, you don't want to disappoint your senpai, even if he bullies you.

[dre6ming]

The delicate beginning rush

Chapter XVI - Family dinner

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Pairing: Austin Butler x singer/actress fem reader

Warning: age gap (10 years), smut (18+ minors dni), fingering, hand job, fluff

Plot: Back from the hospital you take time to discuss your relationship with Austin, with your best friends. And after he comes over for dinner, the two of you have some alone fun in the car.

Word count:

Disclaimer: everything fake

"Come on sœur, wake up, we're home. Want Matt to carry you up?" Timmy asks whispering, as I rise from the depths of my sleep. With a shake of my head, I deny being carried up, so he helps me out of the car and all the way to the elevator, letting me put my weight on him. My legs still feel a bit tingly, having not walked for a few days. As the elevator doors close, I sigh, happy to be so close to being back home. "You ok?" Timothee asks, taking my sigh of relief as one of pain or discomfort. "Yes, just relieved to be back home." I smile, hugging closer to him, my head resting on his shoulder.

All the silence between us is killing me and I'd like if he were the first to break it, since I don't really know what to say. I still feel very guilty about hiding my relationship with Austin, but I was so scared of his reaction and though, in the back of my mind I know that his reaction to it, was mainly influenced by the way he found out, it still doesn't ease my nerves. "Are you still mad at me?" I mumble, my voice barely above a whisper, half praying that I spoke low enough for him not to hear, what I said. He did hear me, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. My heart is pounding in my ears, anxious with his answer. "No, (y/n) I was never mad at you, just worried. I-" he pauses, "I just am very protective of you, you must understand, he's much too old for you and I know he's your first boyfriend." I open my mouth to remind him of Joshua, but he stops me.

"Joshua doesn't count, I don't know what your intentions were with that boy. Anyway, I just want you to be careful. My reaction was exactly how it was supposed to be, I found out you were in a relationship with a man 10 years older than you, who had a girlfriend no less." My eyes bulge out at the past tense on that statement, Austin told me he was going to end the whole PR relationship, but I guess, even with all my trust in him, I thought he wasn't going to do it. "Had?" The question rolls off of my tongue, before I can stop it. Timothee looks at me a bit confused, with a brow raised. "Yeah, she's in a relationship with a new guy, the gossip pages, say the break up is official. Even with all this, I still need a minute to warm up to him. I guess when you feel better you can ask him to come over for movie night." He says the last part quietly, blushing, making me smile, my heart now resting in my chest, one pressure off of my shoulders.

I don't get to say anything else, the elevator doors opening, bringing into view, my missed apartment. "You're home!" Roxanne says, coming into view and giving me a tight hug. "Yeah, how are Simba and William." I ask, as Timmy helps me to the living room, after taking my shoes off. "Good, Simba is on the couch, William has barely left your room, that cat knew this was not a business trip." She giggles, sitting down on the couch, taking the white and grey cat in her lap, stroking it's fur. I wince in discomfort when my laughter turns into a small cough that dies down, fast enough.

"How are you feeling?" Timothee asks, helping me walk over to the couch. Roxanne, who's been watching my cats, sits opposite from me, looking rather angry. "I'm good, a bit sore, but good. Roxi, are you mad at me?" I ask looking her up and down, trying to read her, but she's stoic and doesn't let any emotions show. A grimace ghosts over her face, before her freckled cheeks go back to a poker face. "No." I can see she wants to say more, her eyes oscillating between me and Timothee, as if he's the reason why she won't say what's on her mind.

Timmy, perceptive as always, excuses himself from the living room, saying he has to make a quick phone call. As soon as his figure is out of sight, Roxanne jumps from her spot, over to me, grabbing my face in her hands. "How could you not tell me, you scored so good, girl no wonder you left Joshua, I mean, yeah he was cute and sweet and all, but come on he's no Austin Butler. Now tell me, is he a good kisser? Is he sweet? Is he romantic? Does he treat you right? Did you stay with him in Cannes? Oh shit, did you sleep with him? Is he good in bed? I bet he gives good oral, he looks like he can eat pussy well..." her rant is quite amusing, but her questions become too personal way too soon and Timothee is just down the hall, in the kitchen, I can hear him speak softly on the phone so I can only imagine, he's heard most, if not all questions Roxy had.

She's talking too fast for me to respond, so all I can do is sit there and blush a darker shade with each question that rolls off of her tongue. "Oh my god! He did eat you out, didn't he? Tell me was it great? Was it phenomenal?" She asks. I scoff and take her hands off of my face, to back away just a few inches, since she's all up in my face. "Can we not? The last thing I want is to talk about that with Timmy here." I tell her, annoyed that she didn't think about that.

"Yeah and I really don't need to hear the words 'eat pussy' out of your mouth Roxanne" Timmy scolds her, coming in with a huge bowl of popcorn in hand. I gasp, terrified that he actually heard our talk and Roxanne sticks her tongue out at him, grabbing the bowl out of his hand and shoving some popcorn into her mouth. "Oh sweet lord." I mumble under my breath as he comes to sit next to me. He pushes the bowl of popcorn towards me, encouraging me to eat some, which I do, feeling quite hungry. "I ordered pizza, should be here soon." Timmy reads my mind. "Great, I'm starving."

"Is he a good cook? Austin I mean, I saw him talking about it, he said it's his hobby." Roxy pops her head, from behind Timmy. "Roxanne, I-." My eyes move between Timmy and her and she scolds, pouting like a little child. "Can we kick him out?" She asks, making me snort, as Timmy feigns hurt, placing a hand over his heart. "Oh don't act surprised, she won't do girl talk if you're here." Roxanne tells him and before things escalate I talk. "You can sleep in my room tonight, we'll talk then, let's not give Timmy an aneurysm right now." Her face lights up with excitement and I see Timmy visibly relax, now that he won't have to hear any more questions about the turns and twists of mine and Austin's relationship.

"Thank you!" Timmy whispers, before we all turn our attention back to the tv. It's times like this when I'm with the family I choose that I feel at home. So I lean my head on his shoulder and Roxy moves over to sit next to me, cuddling tight to me.

𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬

"Come on guys, let's get you to bed, you fell asleep" Timothee shakes me and Roxy awake, taking the warm blanket off of us. We both groan in disagreement, being way too comfy and warm, right here under the blankets. "I thought you guys wanted to gossip without me?" Timmy teases and just like a dog who's favorite toy just squeaked, Roxanne jumps up. "Come on now, come, I got lots of questions." She drags me off of the couch and into the direction of my bedroom, making both me and Timmy, laugh at her.

"Can I shower and put on my pjs?" I ask giggling at her silliness. "I guess." She huffs crossing her arms over her chest and plopping down on my bed. "But be quick, or else I'm coming after you." Roxy warns. I show her a thumbs up and make a mental note to be as quick as possible. I have to admit this bubbly feeling I have in the pit of my stomach is weird, but I'm actually excited to finally be able to share some of my happiness with one of my best friends. So I shower fast, drying myself off and putting on my silk pajamas, braiding my hair and applying some lotion to my dry skin.

When I enter my room again Roxy is on her phone, scrolling on TikTok, but as soon as she hears my footsteps, she lifts her head up and almost throws her phone off of the bed. "Come sit." She pats the spot next to her and I happily oblige. "Ok so what do you want to know?" I ask. "Everything, from beginning to present." Roxy bites her lip in excitement. "Ok. So... Soon after the gala, he texted me to see if I was feeling any better, you know I got sick. We kept talking and then I went out for coffee with him and Kaia. I asked them both to join me for dinner. He showed up alone with two bouquets of my favorite flowers. He ended up staying the night-"

"Did you sleep with him then?" She gasps, her eyes full of wonder. "No. He slept in the guest bedroom. The next morning, he cooked me breakfast, then we went out for a walk, you know we were photographed." Roxy nods her head and I breathe deep, going further with my story. "After that rude fan encounter, we came back to my place, we fell asleep on the couch. In the evening when we woke up he made grilled cheese sandwiches and he told me that his relationship with Kaia was just PR." I sigh, watching Roxanne's features for any judgment, but I find none.

"I don't know why he told me or what he was thinking back then-" she interrupts me quickly. "It sounds to me like all he wanted to do was be with you, if you ask me I thing he had a crush on you, before you had one on him." I blush playfully slapping her arm, which she rubs dramatically. "So then we had the Variety interview, when I tell you, that at one point, I was looking into his eyes and for a moment it felt like it was just me and him in that room, no one else. He asked me to come over at his house in LA, I was followed by some paps, got pretty scared. Somehow when I got to his place he just held me in his arms and we kissed. From then on we tried to steal every moment we could."

I tell her all about his visit to Canada, while I was filming, about all those small gestures that made me fall so hard for Austin , for his heart and soul. "So now in Cannes, you shared a room with him? Matt was ok with it?" She asks with a brow raised. "Matt has actually been pretty cool about it all, I actually think he's on Austin's side, keeps saying Austin brought me back to life or something." William my cat, comes up on the bed and curls in my lap, purring like a motor. "So you haven't slept with him yet?" I push my lips in a thin line, shaking my head. "No, we've done things, but we haven't had actual sex yet."

"Would you want to? Like do you feel like he's the one you want as your first?" She asks. "I think so, yes. I love him and I trust him. Rox he left the gorgeous model, daughter of Cindy Crawford, for me. I know it was PR, but still the move, could have hurt him in the public eye." I couldn't really express how much it means to me that he did all of that, I can't wait to speak to him. Like on cue my phone vibrates and I pick it up to see what it is, my face instantly lighting up at the sight of his name on the screen. "Is it him?" Roxanne asks, coming over to my side to look at my phone screen. There's actually a chain of messages, all sent over the time spawn of the 3 hours since I left the hospital.

Austin💜🧶

Did you get home safe baby?

I'm guessing you're sleeping

I hope you're ok

Call me when you can.

Ok I'm starting to get a bit worried, but I trust you're ok

Now I know I look like an idiot texting you nonstop, but I just need to know you're ok

I love you 💜🧶

"Holly shit, girl, my guy really loves you, 60 messages all about how he hopes you're ok? And that he loves you?" I blush a deep shade, looking at the 3 moving dots showing that he's preparing to write another message, but it never comes, the dots disappearing. I frown at the phone and I'm ready to text him, when the FaceTime call takes me by surprise and I answer immediately, by accident.

"Baby? Thank god, I was about to say, fuck it and drive all the way to your place." Austin says, visibly agitated, but slowly calming down, now that he knows I'm ok. "Oh well hello, you must be Roxanne." He says, pointing to the ginger girl looking at him from over my shoulder. She blushes, waving at him, somehow acting incredibly shy, which is quite out of character for her, but I guess that's the effect Austin has on people. "Yes, hi, you can actually call my Roxy, Roxanne is way too formal." She tells him.

"Noted, Roxy. Are you girls ok?" He asks. "Yes we watched a movie with Timmy and now we were just talking, I had my phone on silent. I'm sorry, for worrying you." I apologize, licking my lips nervously. "That's ok, I was over worrying, I'm glad you had a nice night. You feeling any better?" Austin, brushes his hair back. "Well I'm ok, all the talking Roxy's got me doing, is helping with my unused vocal cords." I say and Austin giggles. "Well I'm glad to hear."

"Hey, Butler, why don't you come for lunch tomorrow? We'd love to have you." There it is, the Roxy I know, the one who's never afraid to speak her mind or ask inappropriate questions. I side eye her, praying she'll start laughing, saying she was just joking. Austin looks quite taken back, scratching the back of his neck, looking at me, silently asking me what he should do, but I'm not sure what the answer here would be. "If you love her, as you say, you'll man up, come here and hold your own against Timmy and me. I'm more forgiving than he is, but I can mess you up real good if I want to. You must understand he's just being protective, hiding won't make him ease up to you, it'll just make him wonder why you're not declaring to him, all you say to her."

I'm amazed at Roxanne, her words aren't rude or inappropriate, but rather carefully chooses, like she's planed this speech for a while now. All she's saying makes sense and I see Austin, coming to the same realization. "You're right, we'll then if (y/n) is ok with me coming, I don't see why I wouldn't. I'll be there for you my darling." Austin declares, his blue eyes burning into mine. "Yeah, I'm ok with it, you can come." In all honesty I want him to come, am I scared of putting Timmy and him in the same room too soon? Yes. But nonetheless this will have to happen and I think that sooner is better than later. "I'd like you to come, but maybe dinner would be better, that way I have a few more hours to prepare Tim for it, I'm sure it'll go great, but just.."

"I get it, darling, I'll be there at 6 pm, is that good?" Austin asks, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, he looks tired. "You look tired baby." I say, bringing my knees up to my chest and resting my chin on top. "I'm ok, I'm going to sleep after we talk." I can tell that he's only telling me half the truth. "Ok, then catch some sleep, I still have some more beans to spill to my best friend." I laugh as I give Roxy a side hug. Austin giggles as well and smiles as she pokes her tongue out at him. "Ok then, I'll let you girls spill all the beans. But before I go, what's your favorite color Roxy?" I quirk a brow at him, intrigued by his interest in my best friend, but also sure he has a good reason for it. "Yellow...what are you up to Butler?" She asks squinting her eyes at him, but he simply shrugs his shoulders, smiling. "I'm going to see you tomorrow night girls, sleep well." Austin ends the call, leaving me a flustered mess and Roxy an overexcited bundle of joy.

"Let me show you something." I tell her, getting up from the bed, going over to my dresser, where in the top drawer I keep the blanket Austin is crocheting for me. "What's that it's cute, last we talked you were working on a sweater. Did you finish...?" I'm just waiting for her to figure it out and it seems like she's putting together the pieces. "Austin made it, with all of our busy schedules we unfortunately spend many days apart, so he makes a heart for each day, as you can see, five months is a long time." I put the blanket in her hands and she analyzes it. "That's so, wow, girl I don't, he's really serious about you, damn." She gasps. "I mean I'll still be on the lookout for him to misstep, but I can see why you wouldn't doubt him." Roxy folds the blanket neatly, setting on the bed next to her. She has no idea how wrong she is. "I have doubts, I love him and I'm sure he loves me too, but Roxy, I've seen toxic when it comes to relationships, so I'm scared shitless. I tried so hard not to love him, I dragged Joshua along to try and erase him from my mind, I'm surprised Joshua is still such a good friend to me, I was horrible to him. I just couldn't help falling for Austin, I can't help that I'm so happy it happened, but every day, I'm scared he'll wake up and realize I'm not what he wants, so he'll pick up and leave. I'm mad at myself because I want to be independent and not care about that, because I've promised myself that I'll never loose my mind over a boy."

"Come here!" Roxanne opens her arms and I rest into her chest, closing my eyes. "I'm going to be here no matter what and so is Timmy, we love you." She says, pulling the duvet over us and turning the light off.

𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬

As I wake up, feeling finally rested for the first time in what feels like forever, I go to the bathroom and do my routine, picking a simple outfit, for the day. "Morning sunshine!" I sing waking Roxy up, so she can go and do her thing in the bathroom as well. "Morning" she groans, turning on her side and covering her face with the pillow. Laughing I pull the pillow off her face and go over to the window, opening the blinds and letting the July sun shine in. "Ok you evil angel I'm up, I'm up." She says, squinting her eyes at the bright light. "I'm going to the kitchen." I tell her, walking out of the room, hearing only another annoyed grunt from her.

My cats are already in the kitchen, nibbling on their food, that Timmy has put out for them. "Coffee?" He asks , pushing a cup my way. "Thanks." He doesn't look angry today, he actually looks very calm, sipping his coffee and reading the news on his phone. I want to tell him about our dinner plans, but the fact already has me sweating and taping my fingers against the cup. The sound of my nails against the hard ceramic gets his attention. "Everything ok? You feel sick?" Timmy asks, putting down his phone and looking me up and down.

I shake my head, breathing deeply, as he's face goes from concerned to confused. "So last night Austin called" I start, unsure if I should keep talking or not, he's poker face is just too good. "And?" Timmy pushes, obviously curious. "And Roxy asked him to come for dinner." He sighs, brushing a hand through his messy curls. My pulse is through the roof and I wipe my sweaty palms on my leggings, chewing on my lips. "Ok, listen, I told you, I don't hate him, I just want you to be treated right, if he does that, he might end up being one of my favorite people in the world." I don't know why it surprises me that he's saying that, it's Timothee, one of the most heartfelt people I know. "(Y/n)?"

I realize I was stuck with my mouth agape, so I shake back into reality. "Sorry, guess I was expecting something else" I explain blinking fast. "Come here sœur." He waves me over to him and I happily oblige, hugging him tight. "So what are we feeding Butler?" Timmy ask, making me giggle as we break apart our hug. "I'm thinking I should cook, make one of mom's veggie casseroles? The one with green beans and chicken, I haven't had it in forever." I pour some cereal into a bowl and add my milk, putting it into the microwave to warm up, yeah I know, I like it warm, don't come for me. "Ok, but doesn't that mean you have to call your mom? For the recipe?" Timmy asks, pointing out the obvious. I take my breakfast out of the microwave and start eating the sugary cereal. "Eh yeah, I need to anyway, she's my mom, I can't hide from her." He takes a spoon from the drawer, coming over to sit next to me. "Ok, I'll be here, hm I still don't get why you like these, they taste like sweet wood shavings." He grimaces. "No one said you could eat any!" I say, dragging the bowl from under his nose. We both laugh, eating together my bowl of cereal, basically having a little spoon fight. "Hey you guys, what's all the fun about?" Roxy comes in, jumping up on the counter and picking an apple form the fruit basket. "Just the shitty tasteless cereal our friend here likes." Timmy says, putting the empty bowl in the dishwasher. Roxanne bites into her apple and crinkles her nose. "Yeah girl I don't get how you can eat that." She agrees

"And she's cooking dinner." Timothee tells her, handing her a cup of coffee, which she happily takes. "Well good thing I'm all stocked up on my probiotics." She jokes, as I shake my head in disbelief. "I like all the trust you guys have in me. But I've decided to be my best at cooking and I'll make the best meal ever." I tap my hands against the kitchen counter, smiling. "Now, I'll be in the study, talking to my mom." Both of their faces drop. "I'll be fine, I'm a big girl." I assure them, already heading in the direction of the study.

Looking out the big tall window, I sink in the huge leather chair, fiddling with my phone in my hand. Finally after what feels like forever I open the contacts app, calling my mom. I put the phone to my ear and listen to the agonizing ringing sound. Eventually the ringing stops and there's silence. "Hello!" My moms voice comes in and I suck in a deep breath, my heart squeezing painfully in my chest. "Mom, hi! So I was thinking to cook your chicken and green beans casserole for dinner, but I don't have the recipe." I wait patiently for her to respond. "Ok honey, get a pen and paper, it's not hard at all, I promise." I set the phone on speaker and put it down on the desk, picking a picking up a paper and a pen, writing down everything she's tells me. It's weird how something so simple and small like her telling me one of her recipes makes me so happy.

When she's done, I'm anxious she'll end the call, but she doesn't. "I heard your songs, I loved "dandelions" did you write it about anyone?" She asks. My cheeks burn with emotion. "Yes, he's name is Austin." I whisper, scared of her reaction. "Tell me more about him, is he making you laugh?" Tears gloss in my eyes, joy filling my heart. I don't know what happened, but it seems like my mom is taking a turn for making amends. "Well..."

For the next hour I tell her all about Austin and what I've been up to. I tell her about my upcoming album and movie. We make small talk and joke, it's like the good times we had, like I'm young again and all the dirt in my past never happened, but it did, only thing is that now I think we're trying to start the cleaning process. She tells me about therapy and how she gave it a try, because her hospital requires all staff to go to a few sessions a month. We end on a good note, with her promising to come over to visit and meet Austin.

𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬

The next few hours I spend in the kitchen with Timmy and Roxanne, working on the dish I chose for tonight's dinner. When we're done I take a long shower and get dressed in a champagne silk dress, putting my hair in a half up, half down style.

As I wait for Austin to come, I pace around the living room, checking the clock on the book shelf way too often, because it's been 5.58 pm for the last five time I checked. "Stop pacing, you'll burn a hole through the floor and we'll be having dinner with Glinda, your downstairs neighbor." Roxy chuckles, but the ding of the elevator gets my heart skipping and I almost slip and fall. "Whoa there, the only one whose life should be at risk tonight is Butler, sœur." Timothee jokes, catching me mid fall and I fix up my dress, looking at the opening doors, to see Austin walking through them.

"Good evening!" Austin rasps, he's wearing a dark blue shirt with black dress pants, simple yet he makes it look so sexy. He gives a bouquet of yellow roses to Roxanne, which she takes smiling, muttering a 'thank you' as she smells the flowers. "No need to be fancy we aren't the royals." Timmy jokes, extending a hand to shake with Austin. "Well I'm an overachiever. Here, this one is better served cold" Austin gives Timmy a bottle of wine, Timmy taking it and going straight to the kitchen to put the wine on ice. Lastly Austin turns to me, smiling with all his teeth showing and once again our eyes meet and it's like I forget where we are for a moment. "Hi my darling, for you!" Austin gives me the bouquet of purple star flowers. I ignore the flowers and jump straight to his neck, hugging him. "Aus!" I sigh, burying my face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his delicious sent. "My sweet darling love." He whispers in my ear, running a comforting hand up and down my back. It feels so good to be in his arms, like my source of life just returned to me and I can breathe.

"Agh you guys look very cute, but I think it's best we don't force Timmy to kill unnecessarily" Roxy points out, making us laugh as we put some distance between each other. "Thank you." I say taking the flowers form him and walking to the kitchen to get two vases and put both bouquets in. Roxy takes Austin to the dining room and I hear the both of them talking, but I'm not sure what they're saying.

"Well he has good taste in wine and it seems like he's a true charmer." Timmy says, clicking his tongue. "I know, but you said-"

"I didn't say it's bad thing. I'm giving him a chance, starting fresh, ok? Let's go now!" He pats my back and we make our way to the dining room, where Austin and Roxy are sharing a laugh. "What are you guys laughing about? Hope it's not me." I say, placing a hand on Austin's shoulder and taking a seat next to him. "Of course it's about you she was just telling me about that time you started in a small broadway play as Bella from twilight." I gasp in embarrassment, looking at my mischievous friend. "You did not, I was 12!" I protest, throwing a crouton at her. "Hey no fighting with food at the table, that you did when you were 14" Timmy says, serving the food. "Traitor!" I say under my breath, squinting my eyes at him, making everyone laugh. "So is there any tapes of that? Cause I'd like to see it." Austin asks and knowing the answer, I wish I could shrink. "You bet your ass Butler, but I'm a good best friend, I'm keeping those for later." Roxanne says and I exhale relieved.

Austin takes some food on his fork and I watch him holding my breath, anxious for his reactions to the food. I look at him chew and swallow, tapping my foot against the floor. "Hmm this is so good!"

"Really?" I squeal, smiling form ear to ear, as he turns to look at me. "Did you make this?" He asks, taking another bite. "Yeah, I mean we all did, it's my mom's recipe." I explain, eating as well, surprising myself when I find that he wasn't kidding and the casserole does in fact taste good. "You talked to your mom?" Austin asks, placing a hand on my thigh, drawing circles over the silk material of my dress. "I did, I think we might patch things up, she's in therapy and I think she's finally doing the healing she needed. So am I." I tell him, putting my hand on top of his and squeezing it under the table. "I'm glad." Austin says, he's eyes being as honest as ever, it's obvious he's happy for me.

"So Austin, man I got to say, you did an amazing job with the movie, I watched it before (y/n) came back from Cannes." Timmy tells him and Austin humbly accept the praise. From there the conversation flows freely, and it feels like a dinner between a family. All the pressure is gone and everything feels so familiar and comfortable. We make jokes and laugh, then dessert comes along.

"Did you make the ice cream too?" Austin asks, eating a spoon full of vanilla ice cream. "No, I'm not that good of a cook." I laugh, drinking some wine.

𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬𐄬

"So I guess it went ok?" Austin asks, I decided to walk him down to his car, so we are now alone in the elevator. The few glasses of wine I had, made me definitely tipsy, but I feel so at home with him here. He's completely sober, still having to drive back to his hotel. "Yes it went more than ok, I think they like you." I say, hanging onto his neck. His hands move down over my ass, giving it a good squeeze, making me squeak in surprise. Austin chuckles and continues his way down my body, to the back of my thighs, lifting me up, placing my legs around his waist. Out faces are inches apart our breaths mixing. "(Y/n)" Austin whispers, his pillowy lips brushing mine, butterflies coming alive in the pit of my stomach. "Aus" I sigh, leaning my head forward, finally connecting our lips, the contact feeling electric.

Our lips move together and his tongue teasing my bottom lip. I open up for him, allowing his to take full control. His hands roam my body, gliding over the soft fabric of my dress. "Baby, I wish I could just put you in my car, drive you to my hotel and make love to you." Austin confesses, cupping my face in his hands and smoothing his thumbs over my cheeks. The declaration has me pushing my hips against him, feeling desire pool in my panties. "Please!" I whine, pulling on his shirt, bringing him back for a kiss, that lasts a minute too short, because of the elevator reaching it's final destination.

Carefully he puts me down and I whine I'm disagreement, intertwining my fingers with his, walking in the direction of his car, blood boiling in my veins. "How long before they think I kidnapped you and they come here to check?" Austin asks, opening the door to the back seat of his car, making me frown. "I don't know..why? Austin what are you up to?" I giggle as he pulls me into the back seat of his car. He lays me down on the car seat, coming to sit on top of me. "Aus!" I laugh tangling my hands in his sandy hair. Austin brings his head down kissing my neck, cutting my laugh short with a moan. He trails his kisses up to the shell of my ear, his hot breath tingling. "I'm going to make you cum on my fingers, then you're going back to your room and when I get to my hotel, I'm going to call you, you better answer, you hear me baby?" Austin asks, seeing as my mind is already gone. "Yeah, I do." I say breathless, feeling him smile against my skin. "Ok, be good for me, I love you!" He says, kissing me as one of his hands moves down my body.

Austin's hand reaches the hem of my dress, hiking it up my thighs. When he touches me through my panties he groans in pleasure, finding me already soaked through. "So wet for me, (y/n), always such a good girl!" He praises me, moving my panties to the side, sliding his fingers through my sleek lips. Austin grunts, moving his hips against mine and I feel him rock hard under his pants. We're both panting out of breath and he circles my clit slowly. I arch my back into him, as his lips find my pulse, sucking on the skin there. Moving my hands down I find his belt and unbuckle it. "Baby, you don't have to." Austin tells me, moving his hand down, circling my entrance, causing me to squeeze around nothing. "Let me please, I need to!" I whine and he nods, letting me go on as I unbutton his pants and undoing the zipper, putting my hand in his boxers. I take him in my hand, this is the first time I've touched him like this ever. The skin to skin contact is amazing and I'm fascinated by the way he seems to fit in my hand like he was made to be there. Austin moans loudly, pushing his hips into my hand as I start pumping him. "Fuck! Can I put a finger in?" Austin asks and I nod, whimpering with need.

His long finger enters me and it feels like everything is how it should be. We match our pace, making each other get to the peak we crave so much. I feel so close to ecstasy, the bubble in my belly ready to pop, with the way he curls his long digit, touching that spot inside me, that has me whirling for him. Austin's breathing is quicker and shallower than before, I also feel him twitch in my hand, so I move faster. "God, don't stop honey, I'm so close, fuck!" He grunts, using his thumb to stimulate my clit as well, pleasure flooding my senses as my orgasm washes over me like a cold shower, tingling from the top of my head to the tip of my toes. "I love you I love you Iloveyou ilove.." I say over and over again as Austin also reaches his orgasm, twitching in my hand, tensing above me and glueing his lips to mine. "I love you too!" He says against my lips, peppering kisses all over my face.

We try to make ourselves presentable, giggling in the process. Austin licks his fingers clean of my juices and I decide to play his game, licking the palm of my hand clean. "You're going to be the death of me!" He chuckles kissing me.

My heart feel content, full of joy and finally where it needs to be. We pull apart and he helps me out of the car, walking me back to the elevator. "Call me!" I say before the doors close. "Answer!" He challenges and then the doors close cutting my view of him, my reason for every good feeling I've had lately.

Tags: @galaxygirl453 @rainydayz101 @samaraannhan20 @marlowmode @myradiaz @areuirish @micaelainthe60s @homebodybirkin2003 @pennyroyalcreep @purejasmine  @strokesofstokes @lanasfloridakiloss @denised916 @kibumslatina @macey234 @melodixs-blog @shantellescrivener @chewiethecatus @guacala @fangirl125reader @father-of-2cats @lucid315 @melodixs-blog @ilovehobi101 @richardslady121 @jensmithin @julie181 @chrisevansgirl34 @ranaissingle @onecrazydirectioner @maria-1287 @austinbutlerssimp @kingdomforapony @acoolnight @tarot-sybarite @goldenmarygio @frozenhuntress67 @anonyboo63478338 @littlewhiterose @thefallofthedamned @1eminicookie @rose-deathman @iheqrtaustin @desitravelsblog @prompted-wordsmith @austinsvlrslut

[afictionaladventure16]

It's the End of the World as We Know It (Pedro Pascal x Latina!Reader)

Chapter 1

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I don't know why I do this, but I got the idea and I couldn't stop writing so... enjoy! I think I'm just gonna test this fic out, if it doesn't get much attention I might delete it.

Warnings: Mentions of unaliving someone...

For the longest time you thought if a zombie apocalypse would ever happen you wouldn’t make the mistakes those people did in movies and for the longest time, it was always a conversation starter. What would you do if a zombie apocalypse happened? Most people joked around about how they’re go steal the most ridiculous things from places or how they would begin to do the most heinous crimes. 

It wasn’t until a year ago when things began to take a turn for the worst that you realized that maybe it could just happen and all those things you ever said were impossible. 

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” the man said in a sing song voice. 

What you didn’t think about all those times you’ve asked that question or you were asked that question, was what would happen if a zombie apocalypse were to happen; what you also didn’t realize is that almost all men would revert to ways that felt stoneage. The moment the government fell through with protecting its citizen from a deadly fungus is when all hell broke loose. People began to realize that crimes were technically legal since there was no goverment or some sort of person in power for there to be consequences for those peoples actions. 

You hid behind a counter of a diner that was now in ruins, you knew this diner pretty well, having a couple of breakfasts here from before the fall. You couldn’t reminisce now, right now you had to think of survival. All you had was a small pocket knife, you silently cursed at yourself for being such a klutz and dropping your gun. 

Because there were no consequences, it meant that people began to lose their minds and slowly if they weren’t being attacked by the infected then they were being attacked by the living. This meant that your trust, went from zero to negative one hundred, giving that you had issues with trusting people before the apocalypse even began. Maybe that’s why you’ve been able to live so far. 

“Papi just wants to play,” he said as he snickered, walking around the diner, looking under the tables. “He just wants to play with a nice cute little Latina like you.” 

You rolled your eyes at the mans comment, “I am so gonna enjoy this,” you whispered to yourself as you slowly crept around the counter. You looked over the counter, spotting the man on the other side of the diner, his back facing you. You took in a deep breath before slowly making your way behind him, you were so close. You kept playing the motion you needed to do in your head, grab by the neck and stab, that’s it, it’ll be easy because he isn’t expecting it from behind. 

You took another step closer, you heard the glass underneath your foot crunch. You grimaced at the sound, the man quickly turned around, so much for a sneak attack. “There you are,” He said with a smirk. 

“Shit,” you muttered as he lunged forward, you were quick enough to dodge his lunge. You ran out of the diner. 

“You can’t run from me!” He said as he aimed his gun towards you, shooting a warning shot towards the ground near your feet before running after you. 

You ran as fast as you could down the ruined street, you quickly glanced behind you to see how far he was. When you turned around you saw the pothole in front of you, but before you could react you were falling. In a panic, you quickly got back up, but the man had caught up pulling you back onto the ground, “I told you, you couldn’t run from me!” He smirked. 

“Let me go!” You yelled as you began to wiggle out of his grip. 

“Oh no, no, no, I can’t let you go yet, the fun hasn’t even started!” He pinned your arms above your head, holding them there with one hand as his other began to trail it’s way down your side. 

You screamed as loudly as you could, hoping that someone out there could hear you. 

~~ 

Pedro never imagined himself in this type of situation. In a ‘It’s the end of the world’ type of situation. He had played Joel in the Last of Us, but never did he expect to be in the Last of Us, but in real life. “This really has to be some kind of sick joke,” he said to himself as he looked for supplies in an old CVS. “It’s the only explanation.” 

Pedro could remember the day it all happened very clearly, although he felt like it was all just a bad hit from an edible. He spent a good amount of the day locked in his cellar, hoping that it’ll be fine after a couple of days, but when it wasn’t he knew he’d had to leave eventually. He didn’t know if he’d live and part of him was prepared for that. 

Somehow he had made it a year, travelling around the Los Angeles area without being caught by raiders or any groups that were recruiting to restart civilization. Part of him like the solitude, the other part missed his friends. He didn’t know if society could come back from such a tragedy and he didn’t know if he could ever trust someone ever again. Especially since he saw some of his closest friends lose their minds to the craziness and he saw others die at the hands of people they thought they could trust. 

“Ah!” He exclaimed, “score!” he found a box of bandages he knew would come in handy. He tried to stuff as many as he could into his backpack along with some toilet paper he had found as well. Toilet paper was as good as gold to him. Once he had finished rummaging through the store, he headed out. It was near dark and he knew he had to find somewhere to sleep for the night. 

He began to look around for somewhere secluded to sleep, but he stopped in his tracks when he heard that gun shot ring out. For a second, he thought it was aimed towards him and when he didn’t hear a second shot, he began to looked around. Not spotting anyone, he shrugged it off and continued his search. 

It wasn’t until he heard screams that he knew something was up, he hesitated to follow the screams. What if it was a trap to lure him? But it could also be someone who needed help. He groaned to himself, “Why do I have to be so nice?” he argued with himself as he walked in the direction of the screams. 

“The fun hasn’t even started!” he heard some man exclaim. Pedro turned the corner, spotting a young girl on the girl with a man on top of her. If there was anything he hated in the world, it was men taking advantage of women. 

“Let me go, please,” you cried, as you kicked and screamed. 

Pedro raised his gun, aiming it at the man, the man opened his mouth to speak, but Pedro beat him to the punch, “You heard the girl, let her go.” 

The man quickly turned around, instantly raising his hands at the sight of the gun, “Hey, man. I was just having some fun, you know how it is.” 

“No, I don’t know how it is,” Pedro hissed. 

“Come on, man,” The guy gestured over to you. 

You looked over at Pedro, waiting for him to pull the trigger, but he just stood there. You scoffed, grabbing your knife that was on the ground and jamming it into the guys neck. “That’s for touching me without my consent, asshole,” you seethed, you watched as the mans eyes widen as he fell to the ground. 

“Now why did you do that?” Pedro asked. 

“Because it was obvious that you were going to let him go,” you said as you grabbed your knife from the now dead body. 

“You don’t know that.” 

“I think I do,” you wiped your knife along the man that was on the grounds, shirt. You then glanced up at the man that somewhat saved your life. 

Pedro sighed, “looks like you’ve got a bleeder,” he gestured towards your shoulder. 

You gently touched the cut that the man had done earlier, one you had completely forgotten about, “flesh wound,” you shrugged. 

“Here,” the man took his backpack off, you quickly took a step back as he pulled something out of one of the pockets. “I just scored these from the CVS around the corner,” he said as he held out some bandages. 

You looked at the bandages and then at him, “what’s the catch?” 

“No catch,” he said, still holding the bandages out. 

You were quick to grab them from him, “thanks.” You sat down on the ground, beginning to inspect the wound. 

“The name’s Pedro, by the way.” You knew who he was, it took you a minute, but you recognized that voice from movies and T.V. shows. You had been a fan, when there were such things as fans and actors and pop stars. 

“I know,” you said as you gave up attempting to clean your wound. You needed your backpack, the one that was somewhere around this area. 

“You do?” 

“Apocalypse only happened a year ago, I’m pretty sure not everyone has forgotten what T.V. was yet. Surely no one could forget the Chilean Pedro Pascal, especially after this fiasco and the fiasco you played on T.V.” you said, hinted towards the Last of Us, which aird right before the apocalypse. He hummed in response, you both stood in silence for a second and it took you that long to realize that he was waiting for your name. “Y/N.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said with a smile. You couldn’t help but give him a small smile back. “Do you need help with that?” 

“No, I got it,” you said as you began too look around, trying to figure out where exactly you were at and where exactly you lost your backpack. “I Just gotta find my pack,” you explained. “I, uh, lost it while running away from this guy,” you gestured to the dead man on the floor. “Along with my gun.” Pedro couldn’t help but stare at you in awe, you were beautiful, in a way that he could stare at all day and for once in what felt like a lifetime, he wanted to be near someone. 

“Need help?” Pedro asked. 

“I don’t trust strangers.” 

“Strangers don’t know each others names,” Pedro remarked. 

“I don’t trust acquantances.” 

“Acquantances don’t know someones life story,” he grinned. He didn’t know why he was trying so hard to get you to let him stick around, maybe it was because he missed people and seeing you try to fight someone off gave him the feeling that you could be someone to trust. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t socialized in almost over a year and he was becoming desperate? 

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t trust people.” 

“Neither do I, Y/n, so, why don’t we not trust people together just enough for you to get that wound cleaned?” You sighed in defeat, this man really wasn’t gonna let it go. 

“Fine, you help me find my pack and my gun, get this cleaned and that’s it,” you stated, “and only because I can’t defend myself all too well, at the moment, especially not with this,” you held up your small pocket knife. 

“Was that so hard?” 

“A bit, yeah,” you began to walk down the way you came from. 

“Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” Pedro muttered to himself.

“We’re not friends,” You retorted as you looked back over at him. “Especially if you’re gonna quote Casablanca.” 

“What do you have against Casablanca?” You rolled your eyes again, but what you didn’t know was the irony behind everything that had just happened and maybe if you had known, you would’ve laughed it off. You weren’t there yet, you were still on edge about trusting a man who had just saved you. He had just saved you, shouldn’t that be enough to trust him? One would think so if society was the way it was before but not everything is the same. It’s the end of the world as we know it and you were just trying to survive. 

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