#i fucking wish i still had the files but i never posted it and i accidentally deleted framecast and lost ALL my data >_>

[skyburger]

"fnaf is the scariest game ever" "no its silent hill" "well i think its resident evil" everyone shut up!!!!!! youre all wrong. its actually zack & wiki quest for barbaros' treasure (on the nintendo wii) but only the level "keeper of the ice". that level scared me so bad as a kid and you can tell because its the only individual level i remember the name of off the top of my head. like there is nothing scarier than a) being chased and b) being on a time limit. and you know what this level has? BOTH OF THOSE. this level is still scary to me im like AHHHHH!!!! and then i die

[sirompp]

im. animating something 😁

[lains-reality]

hi :) i hope you’re having a wonderful day

you’re literally the only blogger i trust when it comes to non-duality, and your advice has been the one i’ve been most easily able to apply/understand. I hope this doesn’t come off as a vent, but it probably will just because this question is so complicated and problem riddled, and tbh idek if you’re actually going to respond, but yea. it’s like star wars you’re my obi wan kenobi! my last hope lol

basically i’ve put my life on hold and procrastinated everything i’ve needed to do. (TW: death?? health problems/sa?) I went through a really bad year, last year. the human character i identify with (non-dualistic terms, bc ik this character isn’t me?) was sa’d in the beginning of the year. really traumatic. i dropped out of school, i couldn’t go out of the house because i feared for my life. i became super paranoid. i reported it and filed charges, but the justice system is fucked so.

anyways, after because the amount of stress i was experiencing, i became very ill. my biological father wished death on me, and i believed it at the time, because my sibling wished for me to get raped, and then it happened. i can see now, how my belief may or may not have been the cause of what happened. i then got cancer. the doctors couldn’t figure it out for months, and even ridiculed me- saying how i relied on google.

i finally went to a specialist who was immediately concerned, and then confirmed my suspicions. i was sort of friends with a blogger on here who got into the void and manifested their dream life. they went into the void for me and affirmed that i no longer had cancer, and that i could tap/wake up in the void. the next day, the huge lump/tumor on my neck was gone. all of my ailments- trouble breathing, patchy and rough skin ceased. i literally told my mother what happened which made her start believing in the power of “manifestation”.

because of the paranoia, and then cancer- i didn’t go to school my last 2 years of school. i switched to online, but never felt the need to complete my classes because i knew i would get into the void. i’ve gotten into the void, both by waking up/tapping into it but i haven’t been able to change my awareness, or “manifest” bc i was just mumbo jumbing words or poetry. i didn’t apply to university, because i thought i’d enter the void before then and revise my school grades + make it so i got into the university of my choice.

now, i have a week left before i have to finish my classes- which i have 7 of them, and so many assignments. i have to move out in the middle of august because i lied to my parents and said i got into university, because i thought i would’ve already changed things with the void by now. my life was fucked, then i fucked my life. after discovering non-duality i gained hope that i would be able to turn things around by now, yet i haven’t. i don’t know what i’m doing wrong, because i was able to show myself the truth of reality (as lester levinson said).

i am really stressing because now everything is falling down on itself. i try to forget my problems, and don’t give them life by letting go, yet it’s so hard when teachers are bombarding me with messages how i have to finish the classes, or how i have to move out soon. i know this is probably ego driven, but i feel as if i can’t see a way through because of how attached i am to this. my health has also been abnormal, which makes me fear that the cancer has returned. what should i do?? im kinda freaking out.

anyways, i am so sorry if this came across trauma dumping/venting. i am just at a point where i do not even know where to begin to conceptualize this into understanding. this took a lot of courage to type, as im a bit afraid still- that people who hurt me from last year will see this (even though i know they won’t, but still). i totally understand if you wish not to post this or answer it, as it is very long and limiting. thank you though! i hope you have a wonderful week:)

this was quite difficult to answer as i've never been through so much turmoil all at once. i hope this answer helps and you'll continue taking care of yourself! (i'm sorry i linked way too much lol just don't read it all at once!)

firstly i want you to rest.

you've been through a lot and you've also been putting off a lot to get into the void. stopping life for manifestation is common it seems, its not healthy either. so much pressure is coming from time. you put all your expectations on a method, and i'm gonna guess that you also put so much onto your mind to get you into the void.

practically: your biological father sounds abusive and so does your sibling, i would be more careful around him. idk if your not around him anymore, it sounds like it? but you need to plan accordingly for your lie. are you gonna tell your parents or ?

theres a massive chance you'll just go crazy trying to figure out all these moving parts, so i suggest do what you can and leave the rest. do the minimum to keep you safe, then figure out the rest as it comes. do whatever you need to do, just remember to not take on too much at once.

ask for breaks on work at school for medical reasons, maybe think about jobs, etc. you see how much more could come into the picture? but this is all the body-mind can do. its easy to treat it as god, but its not god.

"but i feel as if i can’t see a way through"

You fail to do the works of God, because you take the body to be God. - Ada B. [4dbarbie]

take a look at these meditations:

butter meditation

peace meditation

surrender meditation

un-identification exercise

crying meditation

i'd like you pick one of these exercises:

feel all the shit. feel bad. just do it. let all the bad feelings out. put on sad music and fucking cry. cry it all out.

let yourself rest, with no problems. if a thought or feeling comes in just let it, because its not a problem remember? :) just put on some calming music or visualise a calming place. and let yourself have some time with nothing. no conditions. no perfection. no obligations. no 'have to' 'should' 'must'. let that go for this time

feel as if you've died. feel as if you've been completely forgiven, feel as if there was a powerful white light that washed you away of all the crap. really feel as if the divine came down, hugged you and said 'i love you and forgive you'. its all over. finally its all done. you can rest. (i suggest kickstarting this with imagery or music, its hard to generate feeling such grace on you own. i saw a jesus holding a baby lamb picture that made me burst out in tears and realised that all i wanted was just to be, no obligations. i imagined waking up in a heaven, in a gaint flowerfield. do what you want)

one time i did the 1st and 3rd exercises (i made it up on the spot) and it was worth it. the next few days felt much better. its like an exercise in rebirth. let yourself be reborn.

some days you'll just do one or all 3. pick what ever feels right in what ever order. but i suggest that 'feel as if you've died' or 'no problems' comes last! the whole point is to let the painful emotion pass through and settle in a neutral or grateful place.

"after discovering non-duality i gained hope that i would be able to turn things around by now"

here's the problem, you went into a philosophy intending to manifest. yes,, (1) you can do that (2) its okay, AS LONG AS YOU DONT MISS THE POINT. the point being that there is no person! the character is a character, not you. manifestation is just another concept, you can use it as long as you understand that its not real. thats why i shared the BOOKS, you need to READ.

"i try to forget my problems, and don’t give them life by letting go"

don't force yourself to forget (don't say you're not forcing it, otherwise you never would of wrote "TRY"). just let them be. deal with it when it comes up. the mind'll want to make a bazillion plans and stress. if you can make plans without spiriling, then do it. if you can't, don't. there will probably be some things you need to plan and thats okay. but everything else, leave it.

you haven't actually let it go, you're here in my inbox. you do not need to force letting it go. you naturally let it go by realising who you are in relation to it all. if you think you're the body-mind then its impossible to let go, because its your life and it involves you and if you let it go to shit, you might die!! - says the mind. but if you're Self, then this is not you. all those stories mean nothing compared to Infinity, Absolute Perfection and Love!

the Self is who you truly are. Self is still underneath it all, it is all. its imagining itself being a human. the character is the wave, YOU are the ocean. ultimately this is about realising all the identities, images and roles that "you've" taken on and used as reference are not you. how can a story be you? how can the past be you? are you the past? are you currently living in the past? you can be if you keep bringing it into the now.

when you stop using the past as a reference point, how much more posibilities come up now?

this is because the mind only knows what it knows. it cannot know anything more than what it knows right now. it can't access infinite intelligence. that's why it'll try to project into the future, and make plans. but it doesn't truly know. all it does is give suggestions based off the past. it is a combination of identity based off feelings, thoughts and memories that is collected and turned into a habit.

the past, memories, feelings, thoughts, identifies, roles etc all pass through you. they all come up like waves and then leave on THEIR OWN. if you hold onto these (which the character wants to do, it thinks thats all it is) it'll be painful when they are threatened in some way. a simple remark of "oh you look xxx" can be so painful for some characters because they based their whole life on a singular identity that WILL go.

Most of you can't change because you are so desperate TO change... but there is nothing to want to change. Things just are. Don't work with changing self, just realize who self actually is. [4dbarbie]

this is not a forcing thing, its just a rememberance. its done out of love, passion, a desire to just be free! with no ties to whatever identity! its takes courage, not convincing or denial.

Disbelieving you are Vanessa and denial are not the same thing. Denial is when you deny reality to something you're already giving reality to. Disbelieving was meant as an experiment, you never thought yourselves to be anything but this body, what will happen if you did? What are changes in your psyche, do you feel more confident, do you feel like you could take on the world? Don't you love Vanessa now that you know that she always was a choice? Even if she wasn't the greatest, what's so wrong with her? She is just somebody, she just lives a life. Things are only so serious when you're identified with her, you get scared, you get hurt, you feel stuck. But when you know that she can't hinder you? That she was never you? Don't you just want to laugh and hug her? [4dbarbie]

are you sure you're reading books and posts? a lot of this is already answered. your case is just more to deal with, but the point is still the same: you are not the body and mind, see what would happen if you questioned them.

just KEEP IT SIMPLE!

i'd like to leave you with this.

Once a young woman came to Hafiz and said, “What is the sign of someone knowing God?” And Hafiz became very quiet and stood in silence for nearly a minute. Lovingly looking deep into the young woman's eyes, he then softly spoke: “My dear, they have dropped the knife. The person who knows God has dropped the cruel knife so often used upon their tender self and others.” [source]

some extra resources

eft - health fear

eft - afraid to feel

we cannot practice letting go

heart of an emotion

i want to wake up with everything

hafiz - love's victory (PLEASE WATCH IT)

trust yourself

"You think you're doing it all for nothing, that's why you don't do it. But is freedom from pain really nothing? At least you are, for once in your life, sighing from relief from all this never-ending sense of doing."

health anon

apply

"All the process requires is letting go of thinking you are Vanessa."

behaviour

letting thoughts and emotions pass

challenge yourself

stories

everything brings you back to your Self

you've been through a lot and i'm glad you still are full of love! otherwise you never would've tried in the first place to change anything. use that love, take any anger and turn it into love for freedom! for Self! i know you can do it!!

also: the feeling of bad health coming back is a sign to me. you've put so much on hold: your healing from the sa, the healing from your family, the lying, LIFE in general. you can't keep doing that. turn inwards. the fear won't consume you.

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Three

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Another update this week?? I'm as shocked as anyone else, but hopefully this one will make up a little for the last! It's longer and a little less, um, idk, I can't say emotional?? because that would be a lie:/ Still, there are some developments! Also, it'll make sense a lot later but the 2nd image and the use of a Ride song are used in this one!

Hope you enjoy! Also thank you for all the love on this current series, it means a whole lot and keeps me writing xx

Warnings: similar to that of the last post! so pls look back there if you'd like to know!:)

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

“I said no.”

Stressed was a feeling beyond words at this point. The past couple of days all I’d had was press hounding at me, calling and texting, emailing at all hours of the fucking day. They wouldn’t let up, even after I’d stayed silent. Adi reckoned it was mostly down to Teddy’s involvement in the whole thing. I didn’t want to think much more about it, although I knew she wasn’t wrong.

“Give me a reason at least?"

I shot a scathing glare over my shoulder before turning back to the filing system I’d taken to reorganising. It was my first morning back at the studio since... yeah, well Finn had Teddy- another factor to my current load of stress- whilst Adi was off doing something or other. I hadn’t asked, fearful of putting more of a strain on her current friendship- relationship??- with Ross, so instead I’d just chosen to tidy and rearrange the entire setup we had going on here. Because that was perfectly normal. And not a fucking way to evade talking or thinking about the mess that was my life. Okay?

“I don’t need a fucking reason, I just don’t want to.” I retorted, hissing slightly when I suddenly cut my thumb on the edge of a document. I withdrew my hand quickly and raised it towards my mouth, letting my eyes slip close for a moment when I heard a footfall step closer.

“Let me see.” Jamie sighed, probably thinking I’d done something worse to my hand than just a papercut. To be fair, the cabinet was old. One of them filing types from the ninety’s that we’d gotten for a score down at some boot sale, so I wouldn't be surprised if one of us did eventually end up losing an arm.

I shook my head and pushed the cabinet drawer closed, “It’s fine, just a papercut.”

Jamie huffed an amused chuckle before settling down on the edge of the desk nearby. It was Adi’s, you could tell from the sheer amount of shit she had accumulating it.

“One thing after another with you.”

My head tilted towards him with a deadened expression, “Ha ha.”

The older man raised his hands up in a mocking surrender, showing he hadn’t meant any real harm. “Too soon?”

I kicked at the toe of the leather boots he wore in retort as I moved towards the kitchenette, aware that he was just trying to lighten my horrendous mood but not really in the right mind for it. 

“You want a brew?” I asked, not bothering to give him an honest reply to that question of his. Too soon? Yes, that was all too fucking true.

“Have a coffee if there’s one going.”

I dipped my head in a slight nod, filling the kettle and setting it to boil before snagging the coffee often reserved for guests on the show from a shelf nearby.

Jamie moved to better face me on Adi’s desk as I did so, wearing that same expression he’d turned up in, all concerned and weary. It bothered me a bit, seeing as though it was all I had garnered since the press had had their field day with my life, but I could also understand why. They all just seemed to feel for the idiot stupid enough to fall into another of Matty Healy’s traps.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” He wondered around a light chortle at my demand, hands falling to rest between his thighs.

I gestured towards his face whilst I poured a splash of milk into my mug, “Looking at me like that, like I’m gonna break or something.”

With a sigh, he pressed his lips together. “You know it’s not like that.” I rolled my eyes in return but he just bounded on, “You know it’s not, I just care is all.”

I forced out a breathless chuckle, “That why you’re here trying to get me to hear him out then?”

To be fair to him, Jamie had come right out with it when he’d first popped by, having messaged me asking after my whereabouts earlier this morning. I’d told him, having spoken to him quite a bit over the last couple days, and then found him on the doorstep. 

Jamie had been good with everything. He’d let me vent, rally against one of his friends and clients, question his own motives- and hadn’t even complained one bit. But now he was here asking me to give Matty a chance, a lot like he’d done that first time around in that small cafe all those months ago.

“I know you’re angry, you have every right to be.”

“Of course I’m fucking angry!” I immediately shot back at him, the rattle of the teaspoon ringing out as I dropped it into a mug, “I wouldn’t care if it had just been me he’d gone and fucked over! But he brought Teddy into this shit, Jamie. My son! So tell me, how am I supposed to hear him out after he’s done something like that and then lied about it? For weeks, mind you.”

Jamie looked back at me, wearing that ‘this meant business’ mug of his. I slumped at the sight, pressing my knee against one of the lower cabinets to continue stirring the drinks. I didn’t care, I didn’t care, I didn’t care.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Mouse.”

My eyes slipped closed at his words and I took a second to just breathe. Because I wasn’t angry, not really. I was hurt and humiliated, and just so fucking sad. Fed up with it all, if I was being honest. Enough so that I knew that Jamie was being truthful here- and not just because it was a fact that I hadn’t spoken to Matty since things had fallen apart, but also because I hadn’t had the heart to ask Teddy about things yet. Or if ever.

The kid was four. Four, and asking after a man every night before he fell asleep and then as soon as he opened his eyes the next morning.

He knew something was up, he was smart like that. But what was I meant to do- to say? When I was just as confused as he was.

I’d ended up leaving him with Finn today, having had no other choice in the situation because the nursery was closed for an inset day, or some shite like that, and it seemed I had no other friends than the few around me. 

Could quite literally count the lot of them on one hand. 

But still, Finn and I’s relationship had still been rather rocky after that whole incident with him and Matty, and hadn’t improved since. In fact, he’d been a little unbearable about everything, always one to toot his own horn whenever he was right about something. But it was always slyly and I couldn’t help but feel as though it was a constant dig, like even when he wasn’t commenting on it he was still thinking it whenever he looked at me.

Which felt so horrible to think, let alone say out loud. He was my best friend. So I’d kept my mouth shut and just dealt with it, like I did everything else in life.

“He’s messed up about it.” Jamie then spoke, his voice having startled me a tad, breaking me out of my musings. He was watching me again, only when he did it, it didn’t feel as condescending as everyone else's. Like he understood my position. And I guessed that he probably sort of did.

“I bet.” I scoffed quietly, an airy titter escaping through my nose, and then I turned to toss my teabag away.

“It’s true.” Jamie shrugged, then nodded in thanks when I pushed a coffee his way. “He’s been ‘round Ross’s ever since shit hit the fan, hasn’t left the flat. Driving the lot of us mad, but he’s torn up, Mouse.”

Tongue in cheek, I wrapped my hands around my cup and propped my hip up against the counter, staring into the still swirling liquid. “Serves him right, I guess.” I replied with a soft shrug of my own, though we both knew I didn’t quite mean it.

Jamie looked over towards one of the windows to the right, most of them were either way too long or too tiny for the space, an odd build, but this particular one gave way to the skyline lying over the remainder of the city. I often wondered what the lower levels might look out at, thinking it was probably the majority of the surrounding buildings, and couldn’t help but feel a little thankful that we’d managed to snag this unit.

When he glanced back over at me, I took a sip and let him speak.

“A lot went on, that much I know, and it’s your choice how you deal with it. But, I saw the two of you. I saw him change. Which is stupid to say, I know, but it doesn’t stop it from being true. He was different with you, he actually tried in other aspects of his life and not just with the band and the music. He looked genuinely happy.” He smiled softly at the eye roll I gave, but it didn’t appear to deter him. “Don’t get me wrong, I know you didn’t fucking cure him. Don’t work like that, does it? But you helped. You and Teddy both.”

I looked away then, back towards the window, unable to really help it, and instead allowed my eyes to trail over the clouds which powdered the dusty blue sky. 

“It was different. Things were different, and I know that there was love there. There couldn’t not have been. The way he looked at you…” Jamie shook his head ever so slightly as he breathed out, unaware of just how deeply his words had cut. But then he peered over at me and I found myself already looking back, air caught somewhere in the swell of my lungs. 

“Don’t.” I choked out, the grip on my mug having tightened tenfold. “Just,” I shook my head.

Jamie put his coffee down on the desk and moved to stand, hands raised to convey he wasn't a threat. “I’m not saying this to hurt you more, love. Just telling you how I saw it.”

I licked at my lower lip, casting my eyes downwards. Our silence stretched and all could be heard was the odd car horn and chirp from beyond the walls of the studio, until-

“Anyone here?”

I blinked back the tears which had started to well in my eyes and sniffed, head shooting up just in time to spot a familiar giant ducking their head under the beam of the doorway, limbs following right after.

George entered but then stopped short when he spotted his manager stood by me, and I laughed to myself at the way the pair of them seemed to eye one another, before stepping in, “Didn’t hear you ring the buzzer.”

Kind eyes darted over to find my soft smile then, welcoming him in, and so George finally moved in closer, laying the jacket he wore to rest over one of the armchairs.

“Yeah, someone was just leaving and let me in.” He answered my unasked question, shrugging as he added, “Dunno whether they recognised me or if they just let anyone up.”

“Probably the second,” Jamie piped up, seemingly having broken himself from his previous bout of surprise, “This lot ‘round here don’t give much of a shit about crap like that.”

I rolled my eyes, but was glad to have a reason to smile slightly. “Or they spotted the BFG making his way over and wanted to avoid pissing him off.”

Jamie cackled whilst George just shot me a narrow-eyed look, “Hilarious. That pot just boiled?” He asked me as he wandered over. I nodded in turn and moved to grab him a cup, only faltering when he lowered my hand with his own and shook his head. “I got it.”

I dipped my head slightly, blinking before taking a step back to let him work. He made a quick go of it, rummaging around the cupboards briefly to find what he needed and only asking for the spoon I still held for some odd reason when he was near done. 

Jamie appeared to have been watching him too, a calculating glaze to his eyes, and he chose that next moment to speak up, “How you been anyway, George? Not seen much of you lately.”

Something unspoken passed between them when George glanced over at him, but I couldn’t tell what.

“Good, busy.” Was what the taller decided on, throwing Jamie a quick smile when he crossed to toss his own teabag in the bin before settling on the counter to the left of me. “You?”

It almost sounded sarcastic, not how he said it but simply because he’d asked it at all, knowing everything that had recently occurred. It must have been a right nightmare for Jamie these last few days, what with him being the band’s main man.

Jamie just laughed though, goodnaturedly, though it was apparent that he was still trying to suss out what was going on, what with George’s sudden appearance. Seeing as I’d never once mentioned him to Jamie.

See, things with George had all started after that studio session Teddy had attended, followed by my wishing him a happy birthday just before Matty had gone and done what he did best. Wrecked it all.

Teddy had become all too smitten with the drummer since he’d first been introduced to the band and their many songs and music videos. He enjoyed the guitar he’d been gifted an awful lot, often playing with it and practising, but each time any sort of song played on the tele or the radio, or even in the car, it wasn’t hard to note the way Teddy instantly mimicked George’s swift movements, pretending to drum along to whatever beat heard. 

George had messaged me on Instagram later that same day, seeing as how apparently Teddy’s appearance at the studio had stuck with him, and asked after him a little. It seemed strange worded like that, but George reckoned that Teds had a real streak of a musicality about him, even as young as he was, and wanted to see if Teddy would be up for learning some more. 

Which had been a Godsend, honestly, what with how the next couple of days had gone down. I’d given him my number via dm just before the storm had started and then the afternoon that had followed the plethora of articles he’d called.

He’d asked how I was at first, almost consoling me in that easy way of his, so full of little words, which had been all too refreshing in truth.

I’d had texts and calls off of practically everyone I knew, even Ronan, the utter prick. And none had managed to soothe me quite like George’s had, seeing as the man had been there too. Not quite in my position, sure, but near enough. He’d even let a little of it slip when he’d popped on over that same day, bringing a bag of takeaway and a roll up drum mat as a gift for Teddy, who had been cooped up with me on the sofa for most of the afternoon. 

The two of them had bonded over it rather quickly, Teddy having been caught off guard by George’s sincerity almost as much as I had been. But then I'd found myself getting to know the drummer too and very much appreciating the unnecessary gesture he’d made for me, even with the pair of us not knowing one another as well as we could have.

I had no idea what was going on between him and Matty, I hadn’t had the balls to ask, but he’d mentioned he hadn’t heard much of anything from him since the night of his party, as well as the fact that his girlfriend, Charli, had been just as annoyed with everything that had gone down.

I knew he’d be stopping by at some point today, we’d made plans to get lunch once he’d heard I was back at the studio on my own, but not recording. I reckoned he was concerned and this was his way of showing it, but it was hard to tell with him most of the time seeing as he’d made it out as though I was doing him a favour here. An effort I came to find I much appreciated. 

“Work, you know how it is.” Jamie replied after a long pause. He was still standing in the same position he’d been in since George arrived, but seemed to move then, picking up what was left of his coffee and pouring what remained down the sink. “But I’d best be going, got a couple calls to make. You gonna be at the studio tomorrow?”

George hummed around his next sip, pulling away with only a dip of his chin. “Should be.”

Jamie smiled, nodding, “Good, I’ll let the rest of them know then.”

I caught George’s slight wince at that, though he didn’t protest his manager's comment. It made me wonder.

Jamie turned to me then, shucking on his jacket. I perked up, not having realised that he really was rushing to leave now. “Remember what I said, alright?”

I blinked, but then nodded. How could I forget? I wanted to ask, but instead said, “You don’t have to head out so quick.”

He sent me a reassuring grin as he flipped over the collar of his coat. “You won’t miss me much,” He then teased before roping me into a hug, “Weren’t lying when I said I had a couple calls though, so it’s best I get out of your hair whilst I still can.” 

I smiled softly at the sound of his lighthearted chuckle and nodded before following him over to the door, “Stay safe.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, all too used to my typical parting now, though amused by it all the same. “Can’t promise anything.” He retorted with a smirk, shuffling over the threshold whilst his eyes flickered back to where George still stood once more. “So, about before?”

I inhaled shakily, though Jamie didn’t seem to notice, fingering the pockets of his jacket in search of his mobile. “I’ll think about it.” I told him.

He flashed me a grin at that, pleased, then let his heel trail over to meet the top step of the metal grating. “Talk to you later then.”

I nodded and watched for a second as he descended the staircase, head bobbing down the first set before he turned and disappeared from view. Sliding back inside, I shut the door quietly behind me, taking a second to steel my nerves before facing the room again.

During that time, George had seemingly gone and made himself comfy on the settee, his mug settled on a coffee table coaster. I moved to join him after putting both mine and Jamie’s cups under the tap to rinse before just leaving them to soak.

George was fiddling with something when I sat down beside him but shuffled over a tad to allow me to get more comfortable, “So what was that about?” I questioned.

“With Jamie?” He asked and I nodded, even though I reckoned he already knew what I was on about. 

He shrugged slightly and I noted the way his finger trailed over a slip of folded paper, it was creased as though it had been played or fiddled with a dozen times too many. My brow seemed to furrow at the sight of it. 

“He tried phoning a few times but I’ve not been too keen on answering, learnt that I’ll just get dragged into the drama if I do.” George finally answered, and for some reason I felt a wad of guilt pool in my stomach upon hearing it, even though I hadn’t been the one to cause this mess.

Or maybe I was just kidding myself.

“Sorry.”

George huffed as he turned to peer over at me, elbows resting on the tops of his knees. “Nothing to be sorry for.” He told me and then gifted me a sweet smile, “None of this is on you. Just thought we were in the clear, you know?” He looked away at that and his smile dimmed into something smaller, almost sadder. “Figured I wouldn’t have to go dodging my mates calls anymore, or be roped into cleaning up everyone else’s messes.”

He reached a hand out to settle on my knee then, probably having noticed the way I was chewing on the insides of my cheek, or maybe the fact that my lip was now trembling. I’d never felt so shitty. So at fault for something I hadn’t really seen coming, nor could I prevent.

“Not your fault, remember?” He reiterated to me, squeezing my joint softly before pulling away. I sniffed before looking up at him with a tiny smile. 

“Promise I don’t usually cry this much. Just been a shitty week is all.” I told him, laughing pitifully as I toyed with the hem of the jumper I’d put on earlier that morning when I’d purposefully avoided the hoodie that had been left on my desk chair, as well as the cupboard full of clothes that didn’t belong to me.

I felt the settee dip slightly before I found him sitting right beside me, lifting an arm to wrap me up in a hug. His cheek came to rest on the side of my head and I felt my heart break that little bit more, because it reminded me that in a second, or two, I wouldn’t have that sense of protection he now offered, shielding me from the rest of the world.

“You’ve been put through the wringer.” George murmured and I had to laugh just a little bit, he laughed too, the sound of it reverberating through his chest to where my head rested. “Fucking cry if you want to, alright? No judgement here."

I spluttered a little on my next chuckle, smiling as I wiped at my eyes. George’s arm just tightened its hold by a fraction, as though he knew it would make things that little bit easier. We both sat there like that for a while, and I appreciated the fact that he was okay with a bit of quiet. That he didn’t run scared from it or try to start up an awkward conversation simply to fill it.

Silence was something I’d come to realise that George often favoured. Because sometimes that was all you really needed.

I don’t know how long we continued like that before he shuffled and pulled that same piece of paper from earlier back into view, holding the corner of it between his forefinger and thumb. I pulled away slightly, looking down at it and then back up at him with a small frown.

“What?”

George merely blinked, staring down at the paper with an odd look before he finally placed it in the hand I had resting on my thigh. My frown only deepened.

“What is it?” I asked him, finger trailing over an edge just as he had done when I’d first spotted it. When I went to unfold it from the opposing corner, he stopped me. 

Confused, I turned to raise a brow at him, only to find him already looking back at me. He bit into his lower lip and then flattened his mouth into a stern line, “I found that when I was last in the studio.”

My chest tightened for some reason, but I was still so baffled. “Okay?”

We were sitting up better now, George’s arm having slipped from my shoulders to come to rest in his lap, fingers trailing over his left hand’s rigid set of knuckles.

“I figured you should see it.” He added in his usual drawl, though his eyes flickered up from the paper to catch mine then and I realised it must've been important. He seemed wary enough to warrant it.

I went to unfold it once again, but then his hand really reached out to stop my own, “I don’t know if I should be here when you do.”

That alone made me even more curious, although there was an edge of caution that now warred at me. “Why?”

George gifted me a gentle smile, the hand that still laid over top of my own squeezing kindly. “I’ll go grab us some food, alright? If you want to open it then do, if not. I won’t mention it again.”

He moved to stand then but my hand shot out to grab at the sleeve of his arm, “George.” But I didn’t know what else to say, I knew I was fearful though.

His fingers moved to meet mine, resting there for a short moment, “It’s your choice. Just, I couldn’t keep it from you.”

I swallowed thickly as he pushed to his feet, the scuff off his heavy boots bouncing off the hardwood floors. Slowly he moved to grab his jacket, giving me time to say no, to deny his offer. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do much of anything really.

The door shut behind him with a soft click a minute later and the quiet of the studio suddenly consumed me. When I glanced back down at the paper I held once more I saw the slight tremble of my hands. I forced myself to exhale, but even that was shaky.

I was careful as I unfolded it, listening to the rustle it made before scrawled lines that had bled through to the other side caught my attention. Pausing, I took a moment to just look at them and then thoughtlessly hurried to reveal the rest of it, taking in its full form. My throat tightened at the sight of familiar scribbles.

You had me from the start  Pulling all the stops out  On the down low, secretly  But I think you knew your psychology  Was working on me  Infatuated  And doing this all wrong  You've got  My number and my name  And you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going  Can I see you every day?  Do you love me  Like I love you?  Ah, you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going

(Song: Ride - Future Love)

It was as if something in me had shifted and then turned, sparking itself its very own flame on a bone too sharp and growing and growing until its singed edges burnt and blackened every part of me. 

I must've sat there staring down at it for ages. Crying silently and alone in an empty room, something I’d been avoiding doing since this had all started. Though I supposed it had been inevitable.

His words. His thoughts. Bared to me on a single page. Him none the wiser to any of it. Probably having not even realised it was gone, or missing. And George had read it. He’d seen it and still, after everything, had given them to me.

A tear dropped from my chin then, blotting the page and I could only watch on as the dark ink appeared to cling to it, seeping further and further into the paper. Smudging the ‘Do you love me’ enough so that my breath stuttered and I was suddenly moving all too quickly for my mind to catch up with my thoughtless actions.

Not even a second later my phone was in my hand. 

Messages now To: Jamie O (glasses!) When can he meet me? 

–

Matty had always had a thing for Sundays. 

There was just something about them. Not all that Godly shite that people preached about it being holy and the first day of the week, ‘cause to him Monday would always hold that title- and Monday’s fucking sucked dick. 

No, it was because there was just something peaceful that settled on Sundays, it took him back to simpler times, of days when he’d just been a kid and roast dinners were spent ‘round his nana’s house. Or when Newcastle would play on afternoons and his dad would finally be home to watch with him. 

There was just something about them, you know. He didn’t much believe in luck, typically only the bad sort. But if someone held a gun to his head and told him he had to claim a day which would forever work in his favour, it would just have to be Sunday.

Still, he was unsure on where he currently stood with that sentiment as of late. Seeing as how he was currently in the backseat of a cab, jittery hands clinging onto shaking knees whilst rows of houses, broken up by hues of green and blue, rolled on past him.

It hadn’t been a last minute thing, but it felt much like it. The anticipation was getting to him, he knew that much, sweat licking at the back of his neck whilst his shoulders worked their way up to the lobes of his ears.

Jamie had somehow managed it.

Called him up late last night just before Ross had headed off to bed to tell him that she would finally see him. Jamie’d asked if he’d be alright going alone or if they’d prefer a buffer there, but Matty had immediately declined. So he was doing it alone. Though he couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a misstep on his part, if it would have made things easier on her having someone there, or maybe just given him some semblance of relief as the car slowly drove its way over to her house. The very place he hadn’t stepped foot in since the night of George’s birthday party.

But he hadn’t earnt that reassurance. Felt wrong to bring somebody else along either way. So he was stuck, toying with his phone, hoping or praying that a text wouldn’t come through saying that she’d gone and changed her mind.

It had been just under a week since he’d last seen her. But it felt as though time had dragged out slowly, mocking him or maybe even torturing him for all of his many wrongdoings. 

He fretted over what she might say when she caught sight of him, he himself having only spotted the state he’d worked himself into when he’d been getting ready that morning.

There were heavy bags set beneath his eyes from where he hadn’t really slept and his cheeks were hollowed in that way that they used to revert to when he’d have a particularly hard weekend way back when. If the papers caught wind of him he already knew what the first articles would say, what they would so obviously claim. But he knew the truth, just hoped that she would know it too.

He was startled from his mind at the jerk of the car pulling up onto the nearest curb. His eyes widened in sudden alarm when he realised just what that meant and then caught the look of dismay that crossed the driver’s face when the bloke looked back to announce that they’d arrived. If the man didn’t already think he was on something, then now he definitely did.

Matty swallowed stupidly and then tried for a smile, struggling to undo his seatbelt with the kickstart of shaking that overtook his hands. The driver took pity on him though, turning away to fiddle with something up front that probably didn’t need fiddling with, and finally Matty’s thumb managed to catch the button.

Releasing himself from the confines of the car, he paused just before the door could slam close behind him, handing the man a couple notes in tip, if only to apologise for his edgy behaviour or buy himself a little more time if the driver had somehow managed to suss him out even with his hat, hood and scarf. “Cheers.” He said.

The man blinked at the onslaught of cash and then nodded repeatedly, “Yes, thank you.”

Matty exhaled shakily and then dipped his chin in another goodbye, stepping back onto the curb and watching the cab pull away before he found himself alone once more.

This was it, he supposed.

The street hadn’t changed much in a matter of days but his mind made it seem as though it had. As though suddenly he didn’t belong. The odd man out.

He shoved his hands into the confines of his pockets, pivoting on his heel to face what he’d come here to do. But nothing had prepared him for the way his stomach suddenly bottomed out at the sight of her front door.

The sound of a car horn a way away spooked him, causing him to jump, but did eventually force him forward off the curb and onto the cracked pavement. He stared down at all the dips and curves they had to offer him the entire way up the path until finally, he reached her front steps.

If anyone asked, Matty would tell them it was as though he’d been working on autopilot when he pried the silver knocker up from the wood and let it rap twice. Though that would be an utter lie. His head screamed at him the whole while and his fingers blurred before him when he’d raised them up to grasp at the chilled metal. 

He’d never felt so sick, just standing there, the seconds slowly trickling into minutes, or perhaps even hours. It honestly felt as the day was slowly growing colder the longer that he stood there, staring at a coat of familiar paint, before finally hinges creaked and the door opened, revealing a sight that would’ve surely cured sore eyes, if only it hadn’t gone and broken his heart first.

It wasn’t immediate, the effect the past couple days had had on her. It was more in the way she held herself, the sadness which clung to her every fibre, the way she wouldn’t quite look him in the eye.

She stared, caught in a standstill, and for a long moment did nothing before silently and slowly she withdrew enough to allow him through.

Matty didn’t dare utter a word, let alone breathe. Careful to avoid brushing against her or stepping on her toes as he slowly crossed over the threshold to get in, though the hands he’d hidden in his coat pockets curled into fists to keep himself steady.

The first thing he noted upon first entering was the significant state of the flat, it wasn’t messy or untidy by any means, but looked nothing at all like a house typically inhabited by a child should, or at least a monster as chaotic as he knew Teddy to be. It was almost as though Mouse had been expecting a letting agent to pass through with a couple dozen couples, what with how clean it was. He almost reckoned that if he were to crouch down right there he’d probably be able to make out the seam of his jeans in the reflection of the floors.

“You can just hang your-”

“I know.” Matty whispered, not intentionally meaning to cut her off but unable to help himself anyway. 

It hurt, feeling as though he was just a guest in a place he had practically considered home not too long ago. He coughed lightly and shrugged off his coat to do so anyway, hanging it up where he usually did, something which made him pause for a split second, wondering whether this could possibly be the last time he’d have the privilege of doing so.

“Right.” Mouse murmured somewhere behind him, snapping Matty out of his thoughts. She stepped on by him just after, eyes trained on the end of the hallway until they reached the living room, “Erm, I’m just starting on a brew. You can wait here if you want.”

He wanted to follow after her, to fall down onto his knees and fucking sob there at her feet, but he was scared he’d dirty her floors or more than likely end up looking like a total knob. He would. Fucking felt like one just from thinking it. So he did as instructed, moving towards the sofa, taking note of everything and anything the room had to offer him. 

Matty’s eyes flickered over to the kitchen doorway when he realised she’d stopped there, fiddling with her nails before she caught him looking and dropped her hands. “Just realised I didn’t ask if you wanted anything.”

God, it was so fucking strained.

He took a short breath in and attempted to smile, “Tea sounds good.” Was all that he said, and watched on as her brow wrinkled, head tilting with it.

“Uh, I still have that coffee you like. The one you brought over, if you’d prefer.” She told him and he recognised her confusion for what it was, or maybe it was just her weariness over letting him know that his stuff was still where he’d left it. Or, maybe, just fucking maybe he was reading way too much into everything.

“Tea’s good.” Matty murmured, feeling a little less tense now that he knew that she was sort of sitting in the same boat. “But thanks.”

Her chest rose and fell with her next breath and he watched her nod with difficulty at him, still not meeting his eye. “Right, just be a sec then.”

She disappeared past the door with that, whilst he simply stood and listened to the run of the tap and then the flick of the kettle, feeling stupid for having missed something he hadn’t even realised he’d taken note of before. 

But that was just typical, wasn’t it? To miss something so mundane now that it was no longer expected.

Once he heard the clink of mugs Matty allowed his gaze to roam, trailing over the bundle of neatly folded throws settled on the wicker basket by the sofa, ones he knew that if Teddy was here would still be scattered all over the floor before the tv. 

There were a couple of coasters laid out on the coffee table, though the fruit bowl had since been removed, something he knew Mouse did whenever there were only a few pieces left or none at all. There would probably be grapes or something of the sort in the fridge though.

She had a couple of receipts left out on the shelf below the mirror she’d hung up on the wall when she’d first moved in, and the picture frames beside them were still the same. Only one was missing, and he knew which. 

He noticed that the candles over by the lamp were new though, expensive if he remembered rightly because he was sure that he’d spotted them round someone else’s place recently. He wondered briefly over who could’ve gifted them to her, knowing that she much preferred her usual scents, only ever splurging on the larger Yankee Candle jars they had to offer in the local Debenhams.

He found himself smiling at the thought.

It was then that she shuffled back into the room though, stalling his observations. She carried two mugs in her hand and a small plate loaded with biscuits on her forearm. Immediately Matty moved to help her, taking the plate from her even with knowing that she had it handled.

“I could’ve managed.” She murmured, though not unkindly, and then thanked him quietly once she’d gone and placed the mugs down. 

Matty followed her lead, settling the biscuits near the edge of the coffee table, between the two coasters, before fumbling for a second over where to sit. Squeaks seemed to take to one end of the settee so Matty perched on the other, though closer to the middle crease than the arm.

“You got hobnobs?” Matty finally asked, breaking the silence again, eyes flicking over to the plate he’d just held before shooting back over to find her.

She blushed faintly at his comment, then shrugged. “You like them, don’t you?”

Matty scoffed lightly, a soft smile limning his lips, “Yeah, but you hate them. Once claimed that they were like digestives only after being shat out.”

She wrinkled her nose at that, though Matty was quite sure he could spot the mirth that flickered across her face. “Want them or not?”

Rolling his eyes in fond exasperation and knowing not to push it, he picked one up and settled in a little more comfortably into the sofa cushions.

The silence would’ve been almost unbearable if she hadn’t had the foresight to have turned the tv on low before he’d arrived. So whilst a documentary played on one of the many BBC channels, Matty struggled with himself to find the best thing to say. Though he needn’t have bothered, she was always one step ahead.

“So, I think I should start by saying that I um, I know I held a lot of expectations.” 

Almost simultaneously, Matty frowned.

She just wrung her hands together once before thinking better of it and laying them flat in her lap. Matty merely wished to reach out and take them in his own. “And I get that it must’ve been a struggle for you, to basically go from like one end of a scale and then jump right off the other side. But, I-”

“What are you on about?” Matty interrupted, unable to help himself in truth, so beyond baffled by the sudden speech she’d started. She stopped and blinked over at him, finally looking him in the eye. At last.

“What do you mean?” She retorted with a pinch between her brows, “Listen, I planned this all out, alright? So can I just get out what I want to say?”

Matty stared, then forced out a breath of air. “Squeaks,” She shuttered at the name, closing off slightly, enough so that Matty took quick note and wished he hadn’t said a thing, but yet, he still carried on. Desperate to save any blundered attempt he’d make. “Look, this weren’t on you. None of it was, okay?”

Her eyes trailed back over towards him at that, though her expression was almost unreadable. Matty struggled with that bit the most, he’d always been able to read her for the most part.

“So, this crap about expectations and me struggling with whatever idea you’ve made up in your mind is stupid.” Her eyes narrowed then and he watched her work her jaw, obviously none too happy about his retort. He withheld a heavy sigh, “I’m not- Look, I’m not trying to be difficult I’m just saying that- What I’m trying to say is, that every relationship has goals or expectations, that’s normal. But nothing you ever did forced me do what I did. That shit? It was all on me. It was me being insecure and scared, yeah? So, don’t go trying to excuse it. Because I’ve had people do that for me for far too fucking long now and hearing it come from you...” 

He sort of felt himself slump at that, a little bitter and resentful over the fact that she’d since come to think of it that way. As though his mistakes were all just down to her and her inability to do right by him. He realised though, belatedly, that if anyone else had done exactly that, or even attempted to, in any other scenario he just might have taken up the offer and ran with it. But this was her, this was Squeaks. 

She was quiet for a time, then she picked up her mug, eyes trained on the movement of it before, “What then?” 

“What?” Matty frowned once more, shuffling forward in his seat in an attempt to catch her eye again.

“Why did you do it then? Why’d you lie, why didn’t you tell me about Teddy?”

That knot he’d been feeling for weeks now. The one at the very end of his tongue, all tied and tangled in the back of his throat, suddenly shrivelled up and slackened, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a plethora of guilt behind.

Matty’s gaze wandered over to the window, to where Teddy’s guitar sat in its stand just before a heavy set of grey curtains. He withheld the urge to pick at his nails as he searched for the right words to give her, wanting so honestly to tell her the truth, to give her a play by play of what had happened in detail, as well as every thought that had gone through his mind. 

“It wasn’t what it looked like for a start.”

Mouse scoffed a little at that, and Matty couldn’t be mad at it. If he was sat on the other end of this he’d been doing more than just that, he’d be up in arms, tossing shit about and raving to all who would listen.

Still, his eyes trailed down to where his hands now laid in his lap and he pressed his thumb to his palm. “We were on the highstreet, on the way back here.” He started, voice quiet as his stare tracked the faint lines of his hand, “The guy you saw in the pictures came out of nowhere really. Me and Teds had just been at that ice cream shop a way down, I didn’t even spot him until he was there, in my face.”

Matty wet his lower lip, mouth suddenly going dry. Mouse just waited.

“Teddy was quick to hide behind me, you know? The loudmouth didn’t even really notice him until the last minute. But you have to know, all I wanted was to get him out of there. To avoid staying too long and attracting the wrong sort of attention. Okay? So I’d said I had to get going as soon as he'd spoken, told him I didn’t have time to stay and chat.” 

He took a quick breath with that, eyes still centred on the deepest groove of his palm. “But then he, then he brought up Luke. Said something about the funeral he didn't go to and wanting to celebrate his life.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Squeaks’s hands still from their previous bout of fidgeting. “But I told him I was clean. He didn’t believe me at first, which,” Matty huffed out a self-deprecating laugh, “Well, I can’t blame him for that, what with my track record.”

He heard her inhale then and looked up, it seemed as though she was going to say something but thought better. So Matty bit down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from asking before he exhaled slowly, digging a nail into that groove.

“He got a bit aggy, started calling me a toff and whatnot, because I 'spose I was just a rich boy who bought him a couple grams of coke every now and then.” He clucked his tongue thinking about it, but eventually shrugged. “Then I don’t know, he must’ve looked down or something ‘cause that’s when he,” Matty paused and his gaze shot over to her, then away again, “That’s when he spotted Teddy.”

Mouse wrinkled her mouth, then tried to nod, obviously wanting him to continue. Though she kept her eyes trained on the rim of her mug.

“That’s when he said some shit and I reacted.”

“Said what?”

Matty startled a little at the sound of her question but was hasty in his attempt to answer. “Just, he reckoned that Teddy was mine and that I had to have knocked someone up. So now they were just using me for the money.”

Her eyes slipped closed and her fingers tightened their grip on her cup.

Swallowing thickly, Matty went to continue, “I shoved him and told him to do one- that’s what they caught in those photos. I didn't take anything he offered, I didn't even look back after. Just walked away, thinking of Teddy, trying to get him out of there. The bloke, he kept on shouting, saying some crap about this and that. But I carried on walking.”

Matty was proud of that fact, even with everything that had happened since. Not too long ago, a different version of him would have handled it all too severely. It was a step, a tiny one, sure, but it was progress.

“Then what?” Mouse voiced, prompting him along with just a look.

“Then we walked home.” Matty replied, feeling that familiar cloud of shame dawn over him. “We didn’t really speak, I- I was a bit of a mess, trying to figure out what to do next, what to tell Teddy, to say to make it right again. But Teds, he,” Matty hauled in his next breath, all too fucking close to bawling, that he could admit. “He called for me and I looked down at him. All I could say was sorry, Mouse.”

She nodded tightly, the knuckles she had wrapped around her tea cup had whitened.

“He,” Matty felt the corners of his mouth lift as he remembered the bittersweet memory of Teddy trying to soothe him, “He told me it was alright, that we were okay, but I just kept on saying sorry. He said that the bloke was just a bad man, and I assured him of that. Wanting him to know that we were okay, that the guy was long gone. But then he-”

Matty stopped altogether then, a picture of Teddy's little face coming to the forefront of his mind, and Squeaks immediately took note.

“Then what?”

Her eyes were so full of emotion, but which ones he wasn’t too sure. Still, the sight tightened every muscle in his chest as he forced himself to finish what he’d started. “He said we couldn’t tell you.”

Matty knew he couldn’t have imagined the sharp inhale that sounded from her then, as though she'd just received a blow to the chest. And he so desperately wanted to reach out, to wrap her up and just fucking hold her. But he couldn't. It wasn't his place.

He watched on as she licked at her top lip though, blinking back the wetness that shone in her eyes, “Why?” Her voice cracked on the question but she did not cry.

It was a simple answer. “He didn’t want to hurt you.”

Mouse stood then, placing the cup down with some force before she hastily made her way over to the front window. Matty stayed seated, unsure if he’d be welcome near her.

“It fucking broke me, Squeaks.” He admitted after a moment, his lips now tingled with the sheer amount of effort it took for him to not let his emotions get the better of him. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“You should have told me.” Was her reply, sharp and cutting, enough that it fucking wounded. Because Matty knew that she was right.

“I know.” He answered.

“You should have fucking told me, Matty!” She repeated, turning then to face him. He saw the tremble of her shoulders, the curve of her mouth and how it quaked. He stared, couldn't bring himself to look away.

“I know.”

He swallowed, throat almost aching as much as the hole that made up the majority of his chest. 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

“I don't know.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

[postmodernbeliever]

fox mulder nsfw alphabet (for female/feminine readers)

an a-z of what's it's like to be loved by fox mulder in allllll the ways you wish you could be.

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i’ve never made one of these before so i followed another post’s example! a lot of this is chubby-girl friendly but also works for any body type. also, i got carried away so enjoy how long this is LOL. <3

my ao3 | word count: 3,537

content tags: smut smut smut SO MUCH SMUT, dom fox mulder, soft fox mulder, nsfw alphabet challenge, lots of kinks but i don't wanna spoil you gotta read it :), mentions of period/period blood, cross-posted on ao3

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a: aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he is sweet. like, really sweet. he loves to be gentle, to tell you how pretty you are and how good you did for him, praising you up and down and giving you lots of slow, adoring kisses. he also tends to get a bit bashful, because even if he just fucked you senseless you still give him butterflies; so often he hides his face in the crook of your neck or lays on your stomach, and talks quietly, like he’s shy. all his guards are down, and he is wholly dependent and doting on you.

actionwise, he cleans you up and helps you into some clean pajamas, but he usually leaves you bottom-less because you tend to be sensitive and the feeling of fabric between your legs can be an overload on your senses. but he covers you however he can, and he combs through your hair, gets you water, helps you get comfortable in bed. he’s so gentle it’s straight-up dreamy. 

b: body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

on himself, fox likes his hands. he knows they’re pretty big, considering he’s a bit tall, and he thinks they look strong, but he takes more pride in them also being soft. he has some callouses, but the pads of his fingers are smooth. and when he met you, you told him how nice they looked and felt, and that won him over.

on you, he can’t pick between your love handles/waist and thighs. he loves to squeeze where you have the most skin, and both of those places are where your body curves. he loves your softer edges, and because his hands are big, he can grab a lot more of you. he also loves how you react to him touching you in these places- you’re sensitive there, and you shiver when he drags his fingers across you or grips you hard. your reaction plays a big part in favoriting those spots. (bonus: he loves your hands too, because they’re smaller than his and caress his face softly… and scratch up his back. we'll get to that later.)

c: cum (anything to do with cum)  

you actually tease him about this a lot, because he gets really eager sometimes and can’t hold it in. he’s developed a routine where he takes his time with you and draws your pleasure out as long as he can because he knows the second he starts actually fucking you, he won’t last long; and he is so much more interested in letting you be the one who receives, he gets off on stringing you out. also, it takes you a while to cum, so his pleasure-driven role is that much more important to him, because he will not stop until you do. and he loves when you finally cum way more than when he does. he likes to taste you, and make you taste yourself when he kisses you with coated lips. 

d: dirty secret

the night of the first day he met you, he had an insanely vivid wet dream about you. even having been with you intimately plenty of times now, he gets nervous to bring it up, because when you’re not around, he still draws on that dream to get off to. it's kind of his guilty pleasure. in it, you drag him into his office at work and let him eat you out on his desk, all over his files and papers. you were in a pleated schoolgirl skirt, and you kept it on for him to tug at. one day he’ll tell you (probably) and buy you a skirt, just so he can have the real thing. 

e: experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

the majority of his experience comes from all the porn he’s watched. despite his drive, he was always the one to take it slow with past girlfriends, and either they didn’t stick around long enough to wait for him, or when he did sleep with them, he didn’t have enough practice to make it how they wanted it. but he paid attention to how girls like to be touched and fantasized about being good at those parts. when he met you, you were even more inexperienced than him, so everything he did was like heaven to you, and he only gets better each time. he feels lucky to have you to learn with because you’re patient and you love everything he does, so he doesn’t feel pressure. 

f: favorite position

fox is somewhat old-fashioned. he loves missionary because it’s simple, and he can kiss you more that way, and it’s easy to be gentle or rough depending on what you both want. he also likes standing missionary for the same reason, particularly for times when you want him to be rougher. but the freaky part of him likes these because he wants to watch you surrender, to see all of you beneath him, powerless, as he brings you to climax. he wants to see your eyes haze over, how you struggle to speak while he pins you down. that way, you’re all his.

fox also really loves cowgirl, because he can still see all of you that way, but when you’re feeling particularly eager he likes letting you do the work. you’re still submissive even on top, because he needs to guide your hips and tell you to keep moving. he likes cowgirl even more when you ride him while he’s upright, like against the headboard or in a chair, because you bury your face in his neck as you work, and he loves being so close to you. plus, it took you little to no time to figure out exactly how to ride him right. and because he cums so fast most of the time, you usually ride him through his overstimulation, which puts him out of commission for the night. he can get obsessive about how good that one feels. 

g: goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

he can be, because he’s naturally got a goofy streak. but unless you’re feeling giggly or playful, he just falls into that mode of being soft and dominant, talking dirty, and trying to fluster you. 

h: hair (how well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

he keeps it trim just for hygiene, but you expressed a lack of concern for that, especially since you don’t always keep yourself trim either. it can be tedious to always be clean-shaven (and he doesn’t mind if you’re a little hairy, just like you don’t care if he is.) but, he does not touch his chest hair, because you are vehement that he keeps it. 

i: intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

god, he is so intimate that it can leave you blushing for days after the fact. he does nothing but kiss and nip and lick, mouth and hands always on you; always whispering pretty things in your ears, dirty and gentle about how good you feel and smell and sound, about how pretty you look when he’s inside you. and innocent things, too. he tells you how pretty your tummy is, and your collarbones, every little part of your body gets admired. he tells you about how he loves your laugh and your smile, and how he's so lucky to have you all to himself. he takes every chance to make you feel cherished and important. he tells you how in love he is over and over like a mantra so that by the time he’s got you in the clouds, all you can think is he loves me, he loves me, he loves me… 

j: jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he jacks off fairly often, but only because he’s usually thinking of you. if you’re not around or he’s away on a case, he gets needy and takes matters into his own hands, because he can’t help his dirty mind. he’s done it everywhere- his office, the work bathroom, in just about every room in his house. and, though he’d probably never admit it to you, he likes to hold your clothes sometimes when he does, because the smell of your perfume drives him crazy. he always takes something of yours when he goes away, just in case.

k: kink (one or more of their kinks)

okay, he’s got a few, but mainly because they’re kinks based on how you act or what he wants for you. so we’ll start with the kinks surrounding your pleasure: 

obvious by now, praise. he loooves to praise. he’s crazy about you and how you make him feel, both emotionally and physically; he’s protective and loving, and he prizes you. he would make you cum just with words if he could. he adores pet names and anything he can call you, he will- princess, sweetheart, darling, honey, love, all of it. especially good girl, his personal favorite. he wants you to feel like the most special girl in the world because, to him, you are.

fox loves begging. he likes it for him, he likes to beg you for more, but he prefers when you beg. there’s something about watching you need him, and how your voice gets high-pitched and disgustingly lewd as you tell him what you want him to do. he loves being in control. 

daddy!subspace. there are times when fox gets a little too into it, and you fall into a subspace. he loves this, especially yours, because you mix his name up with daddy, and every freudian instinct in his brain fires like crazy. he loves when you call him daddy, because that opens the praise door nice and wide, and he loves helping you come down after, because you get so flushed and nervous and you’re simply adorable when you need help speaking and asking for what you want. 

now, fox’s personal kinks still have to do with you, but they're out of his own selfishness: 

belly bulges. it’s no surprise because he’s so possessive, but something inside him snaps than when he takes your hand and presses it against the pudge of your tummy, where you can feel his cock poking against your walls. he loves being just big enough to fill you, and he loves how you go cross-eyed every time he does this, too- it’s just as hot for you as it is for him. 

hands. he loves your hands and he wants them on him always, scratching him, marking his body with little red lines. they’re just small enough to make him feel big, and he loves your painted nails, too. he loves it when you pull on his shirt or his belt loops. he loves when you press them all over his face and chest because you don’t know what to do with them. he also loves to use his hands on you, to wrap softly around your neck and wrists, to pin your hips down, to push inside you; he has a penchant for sticking his thumbs in your mouth while he fucks you, too, because you always suck them like it’s your job. but there’s nothing like your hands on him. 

here’s the big one: your period. fox likes making you a pillow princess, but he’s a monster when it comes to your period. you were worried when he said he didn’t mind the blood, but that first time he ate you during your time of the month was otherworldly. he loves the extra sensitivity you have, because it takes little to nothing to get you screaming, and some dark part of him loves to smear your blood all across his mouth and his chin. he loves to kiss you with those lips, leaving bloody prints up your stomach and chest, all over your neck and mouth. he craves the mess, the taboo nature of it all, and he loves how it’s a way of gently defiling you; mixing your blood with his spit, with his cum, it makes you his and him yours. maybe there’s a screw loose on his part, but if cannibalism didn’t mean you’d die, he’d fucking eat you whole. he even likes the taste. like i said, obsessive- but it’s kind of hot, isn't it?

l: location (favorite places to do the do)

honestly, anywhere. just the fact that you want him is good enough. he’s gotten you off in restaurant bathrooms, and at family homes during holidays when you just needed him and couldn’t wait. but he is partial to his couch or his bed because he likes having you all to himself in his own space.

m: motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

acting stupid. he loves when you ask him to explain things to you, even if you understand on your own, because he likes teaching you; he also gets all hot and bothered when you pout or frown, or bat your eyelashes innocently, saying “can you start at the beginning?” or “can you go a little slower for me?”. because he knows you’re smart and the slight frustration of you acting like you’re not mixed with the need to pamper you gets him going like crazy.

saying his name. if you call him fox, or sometimes foxie, he’s just about ready to fall to his knees. nobody calls him fox, so to hear you say it isn’t just intimate and special, but it’s also so sexy. you say it so many ways, but when you want him, he’s never liked the sound of it more. 

his biggest motivation is your neediness. it seems that when you get going, you never want to stop. you want him to keep kissing, keep touching, keep licking, whatever it is you want more, and when you finish you want to start all over again because you get drunk on him- and that could keep fox going until he dies. he wants to give you everything you want, even if you never return the favor. he likes being yours to use. 

n: no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

fox does not like to degrade you, which might be odd for a guy who’s so controlling and protective, but it’s not in his nature. he loves you. he cherishes you. he couldn’t tell you you’re dirty, or you’re a slut, or any of the terms that might get other people off, because he doesn’t believe them. he thinks you’re perfect, an angel, so good, and he only wants to remind you of those. he wants you to feel loved. 

he also won’t hurt you. certain things he’ll do, like he’ll choke you or pin your wrists down, but he won’t be overly rough and he won’t leave bruises or make it hurt. you don’t fight back, so he doesn’t need to be anything other than assertive.

o: oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he prefers giving 100%. he likes it when you give him head because he likes seeing your pretty eyes look up at him, but he cums too fast to enjoy you doing it- plus, he can’t hear your noises when your mouth is full. he’d much rather just fuck you if he’s going to receive any pleasure. and god, is he good at it. 

p: pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he’s slow until he gets inside you. typically he likes to take his time on you, but when he starts fucking you, it starts to feel so good and you sound so pretty that he loses a little control and starts being rough. that part usually takes the shortest amount of time but it feels fantastic because he goes fast. 

q: quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

if you two are going to have a quickie, it’s going to be because you’re extremely horny in a place where he can’t take his time, and he simply can’t resist relieving you. but he really likes to be alone with you and go slow, draw it out as long as he can, and take good care of you. he wants sex to be special, he doesn’t want you to ever feel like it’s just a means to an end. sex is about love for him, not just a way to get his fix.

r: risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

fox is willing to try anything, but you both are a bit vanilla, in that sense. you only need him to feel good, and he doesn’t want to restrain you from being able to move and moan and touch him. most of the experimenting is verbal- he likes to push how far he can tease, and how much he can say to get you there. the trend seems to be that the dirtier he talks, the more pleasure you feel, and he wants to max you out. 

s: stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

he’s gotten better at lasting, but he can’t draw it out too long. he has a hard time stopping himself. but he can go a few rounds without getting tired or spending it all because of how eager he is to keep touching you, which is nice. that’s why he spends his time on you, because you can last longer, and he doesn’t need much. 

t: toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

fox doesn’t have any toys. he is more than okay with you having them because if he’s not around, he can’t expect you to wait for him if you really need a release, and sometimes your hands aren’t enough. if he’s away on a case, sometimes he’ll call at night and talk you through it over the phone, so he at least has a little part in it. but he likes to be the one and only thing you can get it from when he’s with you, and so do you. 

u: unfair (how much they like to tease)

oh, he loves to tease. he loves to talk and talk and talk, so much that sometimes you have to ask him to shut up and go faster. he wants to see you completely flustered from just his words, and honestly, he can get you halfway there on conversation alone. he knows just what to say, and how to say it, and it can be torturous, but you love it. and physically he teases, too, because he favors stringing you out. it can feel unfair at times, but you like it too much to care.

v: volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

he has two sides. most of the time, he’s quiet, low, gruff; he grunts, he moans, sometimes growls if he’s really feeling possessive. but when he’s close, it turns into the most adorable whining. right in your ear, too. he pants and stammers, and easily gets overwhelmed. it’s not too high-pitched, but it’s needy and uncontrollable, and it sounds so, so pretty. 

w: wild card (random headcanon) 

fox never kisses and tells. he doesn’t have many friends, but if anybody tries to inquire into his sex life, he won’t say a word. he wants to keep it all to himself, and he refuses to let anyone know a thing about you or how you act when you’re intimate with him. he respects your privacy and he doesn’t want anyone else thinking about you in that way. he also knows he has something special with you- sex with you is really emotional and involved for him, and he doesn’t want to just air out his love to other people. 

x: x-ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants)  

(oh myyy, am i blushing.) a bit thick, and give or take maybe six, six and a half inches hard- no, give. he’s big. it’s veiny, especially when he’s overstimulated. and it’s curved up a bit at the tip- which is a pretty shade of pink, by the way. cute, just like him.

y: yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

anytime, any place. he always wants you. he can keep it under control of course- he gets through every day just fine. but he’s always thinking about you, and even when it’s innocent, he yearns to be with you and make you feel good. his dick loves you almost as much as his heart does. 

z: zzz (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

for a guy who can’t sleep, fox gets pretty tired after, but he can stay up way longer than you can. usually, you need some aftercare, and you fall asleep shortly after, and he likes to stay awake to watch you sleep because your blush lasts and your skin is still hot. he loves to admire you for a while when you’re not watching. he also gets hungry after, so he usually stays up to eat something, and then he’ll crawl back into bed and pull your sleepy body in close. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡

this actually put me through hell to write because i want him so bad it’s driving me insane. hope you enjoyed, you little freaks. gonna go think about that period kink now. 

[joels-darlin]

Shattered

Pairings: post-outbreak!Joel Miller x shy/anxious!f!reader

Warnings: angst but I guess fluffy ending, illusions to domestic violence (previous relationship cos Joel is only ever a sweetheart), lots of crying, guilt, hurt, comfort, angry Joel, I guess slight abandonment (I think that's it but pls let me know if I missed any)

Summary: During a silly argument Joel shows a different side of himself.

Word count: 785

Author Note: Oh what is this I'm finally dipping into writing for Pedro characters. Just a short piece that I had filed away and felt it fit the universe of Joel Miller. I guess enjoy, any feedback is appreciated :D Special thanks to @ladybess-a03 for all your help <3 AO3

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“Well what the fuck do you want me to do about it?” he shouted banging his fist on the nearest surface; you stayed silent. It was early evening, and Joel was late coming back from patrol, leaving him in a grumpy old man mood. So you currently stood opposite sides of the kitchen in the midst of an argument over something stupid.

“I don’t know…” you mumbled.

“Jesus Christ…why won’t you ever argue back, you just stay quiet…I never know what you are thinking I’m not a damn mind reader!”. Joel was getting angrier now, the veins bulging out the side of his now flushed neck. You stood still unsure of what to say, not wanting to argue back as you weren’t that type of person - always the quiet one in the relationship. Given your abusive past he should understand that. You looked up at him, he had his back to you.

“I-I can’t do this” you said quietly.

“Well how do you think I feel? Sometimes I wish I could just fuck off and leave you to it” he roared. Your heart sank at his comment - this man was your everything. Next thing Joel lashed out. Picking up the chipped coffee mug that lay on the counter before flinging it across the side of the room. It flew past the side of your head, just a few inches away, smashing into pieces against the wall. Silence blanketed the room. And then, it started; erratic breathing, sweating, flashbacks of the past swirling around your head. Dropping to the floor head in your hands the tears started to flow heavily. You didn’t think Joel was capable of anything like this. He knew he had screwed up the moment the cup left his hand. Watching intensely as you slipped down to the floor, landing in a heap. Why did he do it, he knew about you.

“Shit…” he cursed and after grabbing his coat off the chair, sprinted out of the room. The last sound you heard was the front door slamming, then your sobs starting to echo off the walls of the empty house.

The tears had eventually ran dry. Still laying on the cold hard floor where Joel had left you a mere hour ago, body aching from head to toe. Eventually mustering up the courage to move then you crawled over to the cupboard taking out the brush to clean up the smashed ceramic, making sure to dispose of it all. The shards evidently becoming one big blur on the floor from the fresh tears that where threatening to fall. Once it was all disposed of you settled against the wall again head in hands.

In an attempt to distract from the aching feeling in your chest you eventually moved from the floor to the couch, curled up in a ratty blanket. The front room was shrouded in complete darkness but you chose to absentmindedly flick through one of Joel’s books off the shelf; not really paying attention. “Where could he be” your mind wandered off for a moment, he had been gone a few hours now with no ideas of his whereabouts.

In between reading and mulling over thoughts you dozed off. Only to be woken by the sound of the front door opening, he was home. Joel called your name distress and pain evident in his voice.

“In here” you half-shouted in response. The sound of footsteps entering the room alerted you of his presence. He knelt down next to you.

“Darlin’…I’m so sorry…” he pleaded, the southern twang heavy in his voice “...I lost my temper” you looked up, his eyes rimmed with redness telling you he had been crying - a sight you had never seen before. “Please...sweetheart…forgive me” he choked.

You twiddled with your thumbs under the blanket and nodded. He reached out placing a hand on your leg. Making you flinch at his touch and pull back abruptly.

“Oh darlin’-” his voice strained realising the weight of his actions. “I won't hurt you I promise” he begged “…please just let me hold you” it was silent for a moment as you gather your thoughts. Nodding gently at him, Joel peeled the blanket back, you shifting over to make space for him on the tiny couch. When he was settled he wrapped his arms around you tightly and placing your head on his chest.

“I love you…” he mumbled against your hair “...I’m sorry darlin’, I’ll never ever do that again, promise”. You hugged him in response, not wanting to say anything just yet. Settling down into the warmth of his chest your eyes started to droop, succumbing to sleep, hoping tomorrow would be a better day.

[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

When i saw you dropped the shino fic, i damn near broke my ankle running to read that shit. It’s gold. I love how jealous Shino is, his internal monologues, how much of a goof he is, how he’s already imagining marrying the girl? 😩💦 I hc him as being totally fine with dying alone tbh lol romance isn’t his *thing* per sé but holy shit when little plant girly came tumbling into his life? He regrets ever looking forward to growing old and alone. Him jumping 70 steps ahead in his mind fits the bill perfectly. We love a lovesick dork.

If you’d drop the raunchy part two, I would absolutely die happy. Is it Shino’s first time? Is it gonna be clumsy and sweet and then he gets the hang of it so quickly their neighbors are filing complaints in the morning? (They’re still at it by then lmaooooo) I’m shriveling into a raisin until you post it.

Ever grateful!!!!!! I love your work!!!!!!!!!!

- 🌱anon

i took it upon myself to rewrite this mf because it wasn't up to code - i hope this meets your expectations, thank you for the wonderful request, i had so much fun with it

The Art of Mutual Pleasure

The Art of Mutual Growth (pt. 1)

Pairing: Shino x f!Reader

Summary: Picking up right where we left off, they go back and have a quick little conversation before getting down to business. Shino's quite the quick learner.

W/c: 4.3k (i'm sorry y'all i promise it's mostly smut)

Warnings: Virgin!Shino, Experienced!Reader, them talking about it, jealousy, swearing, oral (m receiving), p in v (i hate that term idk), lil bit of edging, creampie, lmk if I missed anything

Notes: we switched the pov to yours instead of shino's - y'all gotta tell me how i did because smut is not my forté, i'm literally begging (like Shino's about to do)

Masterlist💿

You were so lucky. As Shino's right hand gripped your left thigh, his sturdy forearm supporting you, you thanked every star in the sky for making this moment possible. Never, in your wildest dreams, did you think your silly crush on your neighbour would turn into such a public display.

Fuck, were you ever lucky.

Getting to feel Shino's soft, full lips clumsily move against yours assured you there was something truly good, guiding the universe. You guided the kiss as he walked down the street, too preoccupied with trying to keep you up while going the short distance to the building to give you the kiss you anticipated to come in your apartment. It was finally happening. You had wished he would have been the one to kiss you first, but you felt such courage when you pulled him forward. Now, your enthusiasm lead you, too excited to get into your head.

He was so strong. And his hands were so large. Not the once did Shino falter in his hold on you, but his stride began to stutter as he started to ascend the stairs to your shared floor. Winding up the six flights of stairs to the floor, Shino's foot took an invisible step at the top most and would have dropped you had you not been holding him just as strongly.

In the stumble, Shino bit your lip, scraping against the skin harshly enough to draw a spot of blood. Pulling back, he seemed to take stock of the injury and frowned deeply.

"Fuck, I'm sorry." Gently, Shino leaned down and you got the message, reluctantly putting your feet on the ground. Bringing his hand to your jaw, Shino pulled your lip down with his thumb, saying even more remorse, "I'm so sorry, Y/n. I didn't mean t-"

"Stars above, Shino, you didn't cut off my finger," you laughed, shaking your head out of his grasp before taking his hand and swinging open the door to the hallway. You looked at him, grinning, "C'mon."

Pulling him away as he stuttered an agreement, you marched him down the hallway, pulling your keys out of your pocket with your free hand. There was no struggle for your key this time, as you pulled it out easily, slipped it into the door and popped the lock with a click, all within a moment. You opened the door widely, pulling Shino in behind you as you shut the door behind him.

Immediately, you took the box from him, putting it on the couch before pushed him against the door. Shino let a small whimper escape his lips as you bounced to your toes, pressing your lips to his again. You brushed your tongue against his bottom lip, politely asking for more. The blood from your lip slipped into both of your mouths as Shino hesitantly opened his mouth. In the action, you moved forward to deepen the kiss, but your teeth clashed against Shino's - it was strange. It had to just be a jitter, you thought.

Continuing on, you slipped your tongue into Shino's mouth, eager for him to finally kiss you the way that he had been holding out for so long. But, his tongue met yours oddly, almost too forcefully, yet so very meekly.

You pulled away, pressing another kiss to his lips as you dropped to your feet. Shino's face had a slight sheen, looking at you with his brows knit and his mouth still open. He looked nervous.

It was your fault for coming on too strong. Maybe Shino preferred to take things slow, maybe he was more about passion than vigour. Yeah, that had to be it.

"Do you want anything, my sweet bug boy? A tea, a biscuit...?" You asked slowly, maintaining a sultry tone.

With another quiet whimper, Shino breathlessly replied, "I want you, I need you... I just... I-I'm..."

Placing your arms over Shino's shoulders, your arms together behind his head. Playing with a tuft of his beautiful brown hair with two of your fingers, you looked at him patiently, waiting for him to tell you what he felt he needed to. Shino wasn't very good with words, that much was true, but he would always reach the finish line. Trying not to worry, you kept the idea of what was to come in the forefront of your mind.

"Do you love me romantically, or platonically?" He asked suddenly, giving up on what he was going to say.

You grinned, "I love you, both ways, so much." Popping up on your toes, you pressed a kiss to Shino's cheek.

"If you love me so much, why did you go out to dinner with Kiba?"

It was a fair question, you supposed. But there was something deeper that was bothering Shino, and you started to worry in earnest.

"Kiba and I are friends, you know that."

To your distress, Shino shook his head. "Friends don't go out to dinner with each other, alone."

"We did!" You said, exasperated. Walking further into the apartment, still looking at Shino you went on, "You and I wine and dine all the time, and we were just friends, until a second ago."

"Mhm," he hummed sharply, following you to the kitchen. "I don't know if it's obvious yet, or not, but I've wanted you as more than a friend, the whole time. And Kiba does too, I can tell."

Man, fuck.

You were about to have the best night of your fucking life, but of course, your whorish habits got in the way. Rubbing your face as you got the kettle from the stove, you lamented every man's path you had crossed before Shino's. Men had just become easier to speak to, in your training, in your escapades. You wished that was never the case, that you had been a recluse, saving yourself for this moment.

"I won't go out with him again, okay?" You said, voice wavering as you filled up the kettle under the tap.

Shino just frowned, bringing his hand to his lip to fidget with the plush skin. It made your own frown deepen, feeling a pinch in your heart. Slowly, as if not wanting the answer, Shino asked, "Has he ever asked you out-out before?"

"Yes," you answered honestly. Shino covered his mouth and you couldn't make out his reaction as you put the kettle to the stove, turning it on. "He asked me out to a more romantic dinner, only once, and hasn't asked me again, since."

You had declined Kiba's offer two months ago, hoping that Shino would be the one soon enough. That hope had dwindled some, but you never lost it. 

You always wanted Shino, but you were constantly doubting the potential of him seriously wanting you. Maybe you were just close-by, and therefore, the convenient option. The easy option. 

Slut.

"I'm sorry," you sighed, leaning over the stove, not facing the man you yearned for.

Not saying a thing, Shino got the silver tea tray out of your cabinet. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, feeling that pinch on your heart morph into a twist and pull. Putting the tray down a counter over, Shino stood behind you, his hot breath fanning down the back of your neck. You were ready to cry, but Shino's rich cadence saved you from the squeeze in your chest.

"I'm not mad... just... jealous."

Turning on your heel, you realized Shino was much closer than you had thought. Lowly, you heard the thrum of his bugs, and your lip twitched to smile before your thoughts bore back down on you.

Slut-slut-slut-slut-slut. Slut. Whore. Can't make girl friends? Why? 'Cause you're a whore. You can't even do right by Shino, the man who helped you discover the realness of the spark. You just love a free meal, don't you? Just love a bit of company, hm? Can't stand to be alone for even an hour? Why? 'Cause you're a slut. 

The village bike, that's what people used to call you, back home. It wasn't true, you only ever had five boyfriends, but they all had loose lips. You just wondered how Shino would feel about your nickname, and your head pounded at the idea.

"Petal, please," Shino begged, snapping you out of your thoughts. His expression was so, so sad, which only made you feel worse. You crossed your arms over yourself as Shino put his hands on either side of your face, making you look at him. "I'm sorry, it's okay. I'm not mad."

"You should be," you whispered.

"Was it just a meal?"

"Yeah, but... just... fuck sake, if you're... ugh," you groaned, taking in the fact that you had been going out on platonic dates, in front of Shino, the whole time. You put your forehead on his chest, sinking into him. "I've been torturing you for months, Shino. And, even though I haven't ac-actually been with any of the men from the Hidden Leaf... I... Shino, I'm- I'm not a, erm, a virgin."

Your confession must have come as a shock, because Shino's breath stuttered heavily and a wave of heat rolled off of his body. Just waiting for him to make his decision, to regret ever having touched you, you pressed your head to his chest, trying to get whatever contact you could before he would leave forever.

"Is... it okay that I am?"

You scoffed, "I don't believe you, but, of course, that would be okay. If it were true."

"It is," Shino replied, almost sounding a bit defensive. You looked up at him, to see him looking down at you softly. "Why would I lie about... that?"

A beat of silence passed over the two of you, his hands still on your face. The pad of Shino's right thumb feathered across the apple of your cheek, as if he were afraid that a more impassioned movement would scare you away like a doe. You couldn't help but smile up at Shino, shrugging slightly.

"A better question would be; do you really want me to be your first?" You asked, tone light but still gravely serious.

To your surprise, Shino immediately nodded fervidly. "I want you to be my first everything," he hummed, taking his left hand from your face to hold your waist closer, leaning down. "We'll find something you haven't done, one day."

Capturing your lips with his, Shino kissed you again, and his inexperience became very clear. His zeal supported him majorly, but there was still no clear rhythm to fall into.

So, you made the rhythm. Moving together like puzzle pieces, you guided your lips against Shino's, dominating the kiss in the gentlest way you could. Trying again, your tongue dashed against his bottom lip, and Shino carefully parted his lips and slipped his tongue in your mouth. It caught you off-guard, but you kissed Shino harder, establishing a properly dominant role as your tongues swirled together in a delicious Tango.

"I'm going to take good care of you, beautiful bug boy," you promised him between kisses.

Into your mouth, Shino let a shaky groan fall. You caught it up graciously, moving the kettle off the burner with one hand while the other trailed up his surprisingly muscular arm. Stuttering, you squeezed his bicep and he instinctively flexed against you, making you hum against him.

"Let's get these layers off of you."

As Shino nodded, you unzipped his flak jacket and ran your fingers up his sides, then over his arms to peel off the vest. You cast it to the ground, moving your hands up the black sleeves of his shirt, bumping along the various insignia on the sleeves. Maintaining soft, alluring kisses, you turned your bodies and started backing out of the kitchen.

The goal was your bed, just a few paces through the living room. You would have been fine ripping through the shoji that thinly divided the alcove where your bed lay, but Shino's feet tangled with yours halfway through the open floor of the living room.

You toppled back. Shino tried to catch you, but he was just pulled down with you. Without much thought, you called the vines forward and they caught both you and Shino, dumping you both onto the ground with a softer thud.

Immediately, Shino gasped, "Are you okay?"

"Just fine. Eager," you assured him, drawing as much breath as you could in a few intakes before leaning up and capturing Shino's worried lips.

Grasping his strong shoulders, you brought him down on you harder, feeling a distinct pain in your back that melted into a thrumming heat. You pulled Shino down, to the ground beside you, and moved to straddle his waist, feeling a very large bulge where you sat.

"Stars, you're pretty," Shino sighed, sweeping his hands over your clothed thighs. One stayed while the other curled around your waist, tugging you forward.

Grinding down on him, feeling his bulge growing even larger, you put your hands on either side of his head. Admiring how his hair splayed behind him, you giggled, "You're prettier, Shino."

"Jester. Kiss me."

"Okay, pretty boy." You leaned down and kissed the tip of his nose. "So gorgeous." You kissed his left cheek. "Handsome as anything." You kissed his chin, smiling mischievously as he opened his mouth to finally kiss you again.

"You're cruel," Shino groaned, pulling you down and moving your hip in a slight circle.

Deepening the movement, you rolled your hips forward, and his cock twitched against you, massive and crying for your attention. Shino whimpered beneath you, making an intense warmth spread through your body. Seeing a small portion of Shino's midriff exposed, you touched his chilled skin and dragged your fingers along his bare side, which made Shino shiver. You loved to tease him, he responded so vehemently.

"What's the rush, love bug?" You asked, making Shino's face flame red. You kissed his other cheek, letting your nose touch his as you hovered above him. "You're all mine now, and we have all the time in the world."

"You don't know how long I've wanted to hear those words come from you," he whispered against your lips, leaning forward but not stealing the kiss. "Please, Y/n, I need you. Please."

"Ooh, I like it when you beg," you remarked, elation in your tone. You rolled your hips against him again, making a breathy groan come from Shino. You hummed, creating a steady roll against him, "Tell me what you're thinking, Shino, and I'll give you what you want."

Pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, you move down slightly to press a myriad kisses along Shino's jaw and neck. Finding his pulse point, you nipped it and Shino gasped, "Fuck, uhm, I'm thinking about... fuck. You. Fucking you. How you'll, hah- say my name. How beautiful you'll sound."

Moving your hands along his ribs, feeling the buzz of Shino's bugs just under his skin. You smiled, touching the bunches as they swarmed near your fingers.

"Ugh, ew, I'm sorry," he said suddenly. You felt the bugs reluctantly start to leave Shino, moving toward your apartment's greenery.

"Hm, I didn't mind," you purred, pulling Shino's shirt up to reveal his creamy torso. Shifting down, you straddled his left as you began pressing gentle kisses to Shino's solid abdomen. You chuckled, "You can relax, sweetheart, you don't need to flex."

"I'm not flexing?" he said as if it were a question.

Cripes, you were tingling. Tracing your tongue over the dips of his muscles, you groaned lowly, letting your hand travel to the massive tent in Shino's pants. 

Woah. There was no way his dick was as big as you thought it was. That just wasn't humanly possible.

With every obscene emotion guiding your way, you slowly undid the lacing of Shino's trousers. A steady pulse, and accompanying heat, came from Shino's entire body. His cheeks were still red as he watched you kiss his entire midsection before trailing your lips lower and lower...

"Pop your hips up for a second," you instructed lowly, taking both the waistband of his pants and underwear in your hands. He did and you grinned, tugging down his trousers to reveal his cock. You choked a bit, gasping, "Fucking stars... Hosannah..."

He was so much bigger than you had thought.

Shino's dick was huge. His sheer length was wildly impressive, and his girth was even more delicious. Blue and green hued veins traveled up his shaft, supplying blood to his agitated tip. It was bright red against his milky skin, screaming for your attention. Shino twitched, making his cock bounce against the blotch of dark brown, curly hair that rested above his dick like a halo. You took a sharp breath, mouth watering, positively creaming.

"Is it...?"

"Big? Yes," you cut him off quickly, getting back in the moment. Wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, you came forward and licked the precum that dribbled from his tip. Shino took a shaky breath as you moaned, "And you taste fucking amazing too."

In circles, your tongue danced around Shino's tip, and you began stroking him slowly with your hand. He groaned as you closed your lips around him and started to suck. You giggled a little and the vibration made Shino put his head back, on the ground, moving side to side. Smiling, you began to bob your head along his cock, taking a bit more every time until he was hitting the back of your throat completely. Shino's hand came to your head, raking his fingers through your hair and collecting it behind your head.

With a deep, gravely voice, Shino groaned, "You're perfect. Perfect."

Looking up at him with lusty eyes, Shino took in the way his hand fisted your hair, bobbing along with you as you fucked him with your mouth. Strings of small curses and little mewls left Shino's lips as you went on, his orgasm impending.

As his hips began to make the slightest thrusts upward, you popped your mouth off of him. Shino's face went from full-relaxation to betrayal, morphing to a frown. He whined, "I was close, why'd you stop?"

"Shhh, I told you I would take care of you," you murmured lowly. As you spoke, you straightened up and pulled your shirt over your head, casting it by the radiator. 

Looking back at Shino, his eyes were wider than his glasses, and his mouth agape. You laughed as he smiled at you sheepishly, trying to control his reaction some.

You grinned, "I thought you were mad at me."

Before he could reply, you reached around to your back and unfastened the clasp of your bra, letting it fall down your arms as you watched Shino's reaction carefully.

Immediately, he sat up, cupping your left tit while bringing his face to yours again. You smiled into the kiss, grinding down on Shino's thigh as his thumb and forefinger pinched your nipple. His kiss had improved dually, and you could relinquish some control to him. Some.

Tugging at the hem of his shirt, you broke the kiss for a second so that you could pull it over his head. Shino instantly started kissing you again, holding you with both hands on your sides as he leaned back down, pulling your clothed heat back over his cock. Your plush chest pressed against his, and Shino pulled you down further. His fingers trailed down your hips and across the backs of your thighs as Shino bunched your skirt up your your waist, leaving you with just your thin, cotton panties on.

Taking his dick in his hand, Shino pressed his tip over your sopping slit, groaning deeply as the feeling of your wetness against his cock. Still engaged in a lip-lock, Shino pressed you down on his cock, making the cotton sink into you a little. 

With a giggle, you broke the kiss and straightened your back out. Moving your panties to the side, you took his cock and moved it through your folds, making both of you sigh with pleasure.

Then, you positioned the tip of his cock at your entrance and slowly began to slide down. Shino gasped loudly, moaning even more loudly as you sank a little more than halfway. You hummed lowly, trying to take him all, but he was just so fucking big. As you started to bounce gently, Shino groaned and pulled your face down to his, gripping your hip with his other hand. Getting accustomed to your bounce, Shino started to thrust up, into you, making you take even more of his cock.

"You're so fucking big, Shino," you squeaked as his pace quickened.

Shino smiled up at you, his glasses fogged slightly and glinting with the sunset hues from your window. He began to thrust into you with more vigour at your comment, letting the moment guide him.

Your pussy throbbed as Shino took you, and you truly wondered if this was his first time. His cock massaged your walls so perfectly, hitting the perfect spot within you at every-other thrust. Hooking his hips up, he snapped into you at an impressive pace and you took it, biting back legitimate screams.

"Fuck, you're tight."

Pain quickly turned to pleasure as you got somewhat used to his blistering pace and size, allowing you to bounce with him again. Shino moaned lowly, letting his head fall back. He propped his head up up with his right hand as his other squeezed your hip with all his might. Like a prayer, his name fell from your lips as a bundle of nerves accumulated in the pit of your stomach.

Shino's hips began stuttering and slowing, and you took it as your chance to maintain your own quickened pace.

"I'm gonna cum, Petal," he hissed.

"Cum inside of me."

Almost immediately, you felt a squelch within you and could feel just a nice warmth spreading through you. Calling out your name repeatedly, Shino moaned and groaned, whipping his head left to right so handsomely. Lowering yourself down to the hilt, you pursed your lips into a smile and ground down in circles, clenching as tightly as you could. Shino whimpered below you, trying to pull you down for a kiss.

You let him and began bouncing slowly on his cock again, the sound of wetness now very loud. Shino moaned against your lips, making you go faster. He gripped your hips, hard enough to bruise, gasping, "Y/n... I'm so... sensitive. Please."

"Okay," you said lightly. Bringing yourself to his tip, you pulled away from his kiss, then pushed back down, taking him all in a quick movement.

Shino groaned, "Fuck. I love your pussy, fuck."

Holding you aloft again, Shino's hips met yours gently, stuttering every time. Gradually, he forgot about the sensitivity and started pummeling your pussy again.

As his tip kissed your cervix, you purred, scratching his chest, "My pussy is all yours, Shino."

"Mine, forever," he grunted, kissing the angle of your jaw as he pressed your chest against his. "I'm gonna- ah- make those noises come out of you, forever."

"You better, bug boy," you laughed. "Forever."

Shino snapped his hips into you with a renewed vigour as your promise of forever. He fucked into you heavily, moving his hands along the bare flesh of your ass and thighs.

Suddenly, with an arm wrapped around your waist and the other on the ground, Shino stood up. His cock buried itself even deeper in you as he stood, making you cry out his name with a shake to your voice. Shino kissed along your neck as he positioned his arms to bounce you slowly while he walked over to your bed, stepping out of his pants in the process.

Not letting a drop of cum fall from you, he laid you down on your back. Shino looked down at you with a wide smile before taking off his sunglasses for the first time. He cast them aside and neither of you cared to see where they landed as Shino began fucking you again, hitting a whole new angle.

He grasped you by the hips, guiding you to meet his as he repeatedly plunged into you with a force you had never heard of. It was heaven.

Snaking your hand between the two of you, you pulled at your clit, rubbing small circles. Backing your head into the pillow Shino rested you on, you murmured in a salacious lilt, "Shino."

"Again," he demanded, snapping into you with even more strength.

You quickened your pace on your clit, looking into his eyes as you repeated, "Shino. Shino, I love your- mm- cock. Stars, Shino, ugh-"

With his intensity and your toying with your clit, a grand knot formed in your stomach, weaving intricately, sweeping you away. You just kept repeating Shino's darling name, feeling the knot burst. 

Waves of pleasure rolled through your body, tensing every muscle periodically. Looking into his kind, sharp brown eyes, you let a gentle moan fall from your lips, still repeating his name, and Shino's hips stuttered in his time, slamming down into you deeply.

He slowed for a moment, feeling your walls fluttering around him, before he resumed his unrhythmic tempo. As you felt another burst of heat within you, Shino stopped, his eyelashes batting closed and groaned, "You're all mine, Y/n - taking all my cum like that, you must really love me."

"I love you so much," you said as Shino thrusted into you a few more times as you both hissed at the overstimulation. "I wanna take your cum forever, love bug. Only yours, all of yours."

"Oh, we're never leaving this bed, if you keep talking like that."

Looking at the man between your legs, you had never felt so seen, admired, and invigorated. You just hoped he felt the same as you kissed him sweetly, imagining how nice it would be if Shino were to be your husband.

[dewdrops-whammy-bar]

re: the swissrora panty post, may i suggest vibrating panties and rory's got the remote clipped to her mic stand throughout the whole show 👀

FELIX. FELIX OH MY GOD. I AM GRABBING YOU AND SHAKING YOU.

Anyway here’s a horny-fueled something I wrote in my notes app. It’s messy. Enjoy.

Swiss may or may not be regretting this.

He hadn’t thought to test out how strong the vibrator could get before he’d slipped it into his panties on the tour bus. And now he was learning. Aurora was a devious little bastard, he’d give her that.

So now he was stood on stage, vibrator pulsing deliciously against his tdick, trying to act normal. Thankfully, his “normal” was usually quite horny, so it wasn’t too hard. Unlike him, he was very hard.

He could see Rory across the stage, casually clicking buttons on the little remote hidden in her palm. Each setting change sent more shockwaves up his spine. He tried not to let his voice falter or to accidentally moan into the mic.

The opening chords to Watcher in The Sky played and Swiss’s stomach sank. He suddenly realized Rory’s plan.

He usually went quite… feral during Dew’s solo during this song. Rolling around, screaming, contorting his body in odd ways, occasionally humping the stage, the works. If he’d predicted correctly, that was when Rory would pull out all the stops.

The moment came all too soon. The spotlight shone on Dew, he began his solo, and all hell broke loose, contained to a very specific area on Swiss’s body.

The vibrator was strong. Stronger than he’d expected for a toy that had been running constantly for around an hour. Swiss sunk to his knees, thighs trembling slightly. The rapid pulsing of the toy felt like a jackhammer of warmth against his clit.

He gritted his teeth. Satanas, he was so fucking close. He jolted his hips slightly, the seam of his pants pressing the toy harder against his aching clit. It was inevitable, he knew this would be a big one. He just hoped that he’d be able to get his shit together in time for the end of the sol-

Fuck. Fuck fuck shit fuck oh Satan that’s good. I’m gonna kill Rory or maybe suck her off later but unholy fuck unholy shit this is fuck oh fuck ohhhhh

Wait, I need to. Need to get up. Fuck, I’m so sensitive, shit that’s too much-

Swiss hauled himself to his feet on slightly trembling legs, a little dizzy and still shuddering through the last shreds of his orgasm. Mercifully, the vibrator lowered to a more manageable level and Swiss was able to get his trembles and overstimulation under control.

Swiss had never wished for a show to be over like this one before. He was sore and swollen and overstimulated but every movement of his hips just sent more pleasure into the pit of his belly. It was delicious torture.

Finally, finally, the show was over, the band took their bows and filed backstage, and Swiss was able to corner Rory. She just giggled, ramped up the intensity of the vibrator, and slipped away toward the tour bus.

That night in their hotel room Swiss made Rory cum so many times that she was almost sorry. Almost.

[baronessblixen]

Stolen Christmas Moments

Day 4: Stolen Mistletoe Kiss

I'm doing the 24 Days of X-Mas Files Challenge that msrafterdark posted!

Summary: Scully is celebrating Christmas in San Diego and Mulder? Misses her so much that he decides to take a few chances. (wc: 1,701, fluff)

Tagging @today-in-fic

He hasn’t thought this plan through at all. The only problem is that he doesn’t realize it until it’s much too late.

“What are you doing here?” Bill Jr. asks him and his grouchy face doesn’t fit at all with the whimsical Christmas sweater he’s wearing. Mulder wonders if Scully is wearing a similar one. Whether Mrs. Scully got all her children matching sweaters. He wouldn’t put it past her. But now is not the time to lose himself in thoughts.

“You couldn’t have called?” Bill goes on. “You have to ruin another Christmas by showing up here?”

He should defend himself. But how? Bill is right. He has no right to be here. Scully left a few days ago, smiling brightly from ear to ear, reminding him that she would be in San Diego for the holidays. He had wished her a merry Christmas like the good partner he is and promised himself – and her – that he wouldn’t call her.

Well, he hasn’t called her. In a moment of pure insanity, he booked a flight to San Diego and here he is, standing in front of her big brother, who is crossing his arms in front of his chest like a bodyguard.

He really should have thought this through.

“Sc- Dana said not to call her.” Of all the things he could have said, he chooses this. Bill blinks at him, seemingly surprised. “I- she forgot something and I thought I’d… bring it to her."

“What did she forget?” Maybe Bill should start working for the FBI. He’s asking all the right questions and making Mulder squirm. What could she have possibly forgotten? What could be so important that he had to fly out to San Diego to bring it to her?

“What,” and Bill’s face comes dangerously close to his, “has she forgotten that is so important?”

“Um,” Mulder says, taking a step back. This was a dumb decision. He’s made a few of these in this life but this one ranks high. Very high. He decides to change course. Bill already hates him anyway and no matter what he says, that won’t change.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, Bill,” he starts and surprise flashes on the other’s man’s face. Much like his sister, he is easy to read; Mulder is fluent in Scully expressions.

“Dana didn’t forget anything. The reason I’m here is simple.” As simple as it is, it’s damn difficult to admit it. It’s one thing to admit it to himself while sitting on the couch in his apartment, his fish his only company. It’s another to admit it to Scully’s brother who’d rather he disappeared from his sister’s life.

“Is that Fox?” Mrs. Scully appears at the door and she, too, is wearing a reindeer sweater with a blinking red nose. Mulder smiles sheepishly. “Oh, what a surprise,” she says and sounds honest. “Bill, let Fox in. Dana will be so excited to see you.”

“Mom, he wasn’t invited,” Bill says.

“There’s enough room here and food. It’s cold, Bill. Let Fox in and close the door.”

“It’s San Diego,” Bill says, “it’s anything but cold. But I guess I have to let you in,” he says turning to Mulder. He nods, swallowing.

“Thank you.” Bill trots off as Mulder takes off his shoes and his coat. He still hasn’t figured out what he’s going to say to Scully. People he’s never seen in his life are walking around the Scully house. Their hair colors and shapes look vaguely familiar, so he figures they’re all somehow related. He’s crashed into a full-blown Scully Christmas celebration.

“Mulder?” And there she is. The reason he flew across the country without a single thought. Or even a present. Fuck. He did this all wrong. But her face lights up and she smiles up at him as if genuinely happy to see him here. “What are you- why are you in San Diego? Please tell me it’s not another case.”

“No,” he says with a slight shake of his head. “Not a case. I know you said not to call you but-”

“I meant not to call me about work, Mulder. You know that. So why are you here? You were just in the neighborhood?” She’s teasing him. She’s honest to god teasing him. With him showing up here out of the blue, she could be angry, she could be sending him away. She’s doing neither. Instead, she’s smiling softly at him. As if she wanted him here as much as he wanted to spend Christmas with her.

“I- I was just in the neighborhood,” he confirms with a grin. “Unless you want me to leave again.”

“Don’t you dare. Though we need to find something for you to wear.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“We’re all wearing these,” Scully says, pointing at her Christmas sweater. There’s a huge smiling snowman on hers and it looks so soft that Mulder wants to touch it. “We’ll find you one.” When she takes his hand, he marvels at how warm her skin feels.

“Come on upstairs. My mom always has at least one extra sweater.”

“Shouldn’t you, I don’t know, ask her?” Mulder lets himself be dragged up the stairs, well aware that this is Bill Jr.’s house. He doubts the other man wants him up here. Or anywhere, really. Scully, however, doesn’t seem to care. She’s still smiling, going into one of the bedrooms and leaving the door wide open. Mulder remains outside, scared to follow her.

“I’m sharing with my mom,” she lets him know. “I knew it.” She returns a few moments later, holding another colorful Christmas sweater.

“You’re not serious.”

“If you want to spend Christmas with the Scullys, Mulder, you must look the part. You can go change in there.” She points at what he supposes is the bathroom. He takes the unbelievably soft sweater and closes the door behind him to catch his breath.

Did not think this through, he reminds himself as he takes off his own sweater to put on the Scully Christmas sweater. It’s a bit snug but it will do. He looks at himself in the mirror and smiles. He looks as ridiculous as the rest of them. He needs to thank Scully for this. For accepting him into her brother’s home and making him a part of this.

Just as he’s about to leave, he sees it: mistletoe. Who would put mistletoe in the bathroom? He doesn’t even think about it. He leans up and unties it, stuffing it into his jeans pocket. Maybe it will come in handy later.

Mulder doesn’t remember the last time he had this much fun. Even Bill Jr. is friendly to him, bringing him a glass of punch.

“You don’t think it’s poisoned, do you?” Mulder asks Scully, smelling the fruity concoction.

“He wouldn’t dare do that to Mom on Christmas.”

“So you do think he would poison me?” Mulder takes a sip, reveling in the sweet taste.

“Not on Christmas.” Scully winks at him, making him wonder how much punch she’s had. Seeing her this happy is a dream come true. This is what he wanted for her. This is what he wanted to witness, too.

Last year he almost fucked it up by taking up too much of her time. Always unable to let her go. Bill Jr. is right when he calls him a selfish bastard. He wants to spend time with Scully like this, too. Carefree. Happy. Christmas is not the only thing he almost ruined last year. The kiss that never was. Blurting an I love you in the hospital after she once again saved his ass. The whole Diana business. This year, he wants to do everything right.

“Scully, I didn’t bring any presents.”

“No one will notice, Mulder.” She pats his hand.

“I don’t have a gift for you either.”

“I don’t need a present.” When she turns to him, her cheeks are pink and her blue eyes are sparkling. “I’d like some company while I get some fresh air though.” This is his moment. This is it. He follows her outside as if in a trance, the mistletoe poking his thigh. It’s dark already, but it doesn’t feel like it with the Christmas lights surrounding them. It’s not cold here in San Diego, but there’s a cool breeze and Scully stands close to him, sharing his warmth.

“I do have something,” Mulder says after a moment of comfortable silence. “I’m not sure how original the gift is or if it’s something you like, but…” He puts his hand in his pocket, winces when his skin gets caught on the mistletoe, and takes it out.

“Is that- Mulder, is that mistletoe?”

He nods, smiling softly. “I have to admit that I stole it.”

“From where?” Scully is smiling too.

“Upstairs bathroom. I saw it and- Scully, the reason I came here isn’t that I was looking to steal mistletoe and kiss you. But maybe it’s part of it. I was sitting at home and I was missing you. I was thinking about last year and how much fun we had.” She raises her eyebrows. “It was fun, wasn’t it? In hindsight. Anyway, it made me realize that I didn’t want to spend Christmas without you.”

“Why didn’t you call?”

“I should have. I know I shouldn’t have flown here but- I thought I’d take a chance.” And he’s doing it again, offering her the mistletoe. She takes it, turning it around in her palm.

“Guess it’s my turn now, hm?” Scully looks at him and then lifts her arm, barely reaching over his head, but it doesn’t matter. They meet in the middle and when Scully lets go of the mistletoe, it lands in his hair, and as their kiss heats up, in the snow.

When they go back inside a few minutes later, Mrs. Scully asks if it’s cold because they’re both pink-faced. Their pinkies meet out of Mrs. Scully’s sight and they both nod in unison. Mrs. Scully probably doesn't believe them - if her face is an indication - but nothing else matters tonight. Scully kissed him. His Christmas wish has already come true.

[themidnightcrimson]

the human psyche—one. | w. maximoff

summary: in which a visit to your psychologist precedes the murder of your girlfriend and leaves you questioning yourself.

warnings: manipulation, murder, gore, sexual tension, mental distress (don’t we all)

this post is for 18+ only. minors: do not interact.

series masterlist.

"Do you ever think about hurting her?"

The question had struck you entirely off guard. The small dark green leather sofa on which you sat squeaked in response, the decorative buttons deepening until it felt like you were sinking into the furniture. You were cold—it was always cold in this office, which you felt was a paradox. The office of a psychologist should be warm and comforting, inviting and relaxing. All the other therapists you visited had colorful offices with bright yet natural lights and peaceful, abstract artwork hanging on the walls with lively plants in every corner.

This office was dim and cold. This didn't mean it was not stylish—the coffee-colored desk paired with the dark green furniture and classic paintings hanging on the walls uttered every sense of meticulous style. You had imagined that every piece of decor in the office was carefully picked out to go along with the adult, academic theme. Even the Victorian windows made you feel like you were sitting in an Architectural Digest magazine. Your psychologist was a good one, and a fashionable one.

Even her clothes were always tasteful. Today she wore a navy blue suit with a loose off-white blouse and a shiny golden square of a petite watch on her wrist. Around her fingers were matching rings, and in her hand was the pen with which she was writing notes in her journal. You'd always wondered what therapists were writing in your file when you visited them. Wanda never wrote as much they did, it seemed, and while with the others you could reasonably calculate what they were writing based on what you were saying in the given moment, Wanda scribbled at odd times. Maybe she just had a different technique, and maybe that was why you found her to be the best therapist you ever had.

You'd been with her for about two months which, compared to the others, was a very long time. You went from one-and-done visits to seeing this woman every week, and you'd even progressed from calling her Dr. Maximoff to simply Wanda, though intermittently. Strangely, the better you felt, the more you felt you needed to see her. It was supposed to be the opposite, but here you were, in for the second time this week. But you didn't feel better.

Your girlfriend was someone Wanda knew very well. Not that she had ever met her, but because she was the topic of most of your discussions as of the last few weeks. You had been with your girlfriend for a while now, and it had also been a while since her words of love had turned into words of venom. She was only a shell of the girl you had fell in love with now, but her possessive ways left you feeling incapable of leaving her. Also, you had no one else. She was really the only person in your life, and even though she was a terrible one, you couldn't leave her for the fear of being alone.

You had been telling Wanda about your last argument when your girlfriend had brought that exact point up. "What are you gonna do, leave me?" she had spat at you, rearing close to you and snatching your wrist bruisingly. "Who will you have then, y/n? Who? No one." Her words were still richocheting around your head like a bullet, fragmenting parts of your brain with each incessant hit.

Wanda had listened silently, letting you ramble on until your frustrations had turned into rage. You never thought of yourself as an angry person, but here lately...

"I'm so sick of her," you had said through gritted teeth. "I wish she would just... go away. I'd rather have fucking no one than to have her. She's such a bitch. She thinks she controls me, that I'm just a fucking charity case for her. God, I wish she would just..." You stopped, realizing that your fists were balled so tight that your knuckles were as white as the paper Wanda had stopped scribbling on. You could feel your blood pooling in your cheeks, your heartbeat thumping right in your ears. You were even hunched over rather unflatteringly, and realizing just how angry you had become, you finally took a deep breathe and straightened, relaxing against the uncomfortable sofa. The nearly unbearable pressure in your head faded, leaving you slightly lightheaded. "I'm sorry," you told Wanda, your blush of rage turning to one of embarrassment as you met her unreadable gaze. "I'm sorry, I—”

"Do you ever think about hurting her?" came the question from Wanda. Her head was cocked to the right, her eyes slightly squinted but still wide and absorptive. You always felt like she was a sponge, soaking up every drop of your presence. It felt invasive at times, as if she was standing right inside your head and watching your thoughts pass by, but you chocked it up to her just being a really good therapist.

"What?" you scoffed, and for some reason a nervous chuckle escaped your chest as if your lungs were trying to cough something up. You swallowed whatever it was down. "No," you sharply spoke. "No, of course not—why would you ask me that?" The cold room started to rise in temperature.

"It's only in the human nature to feel a need to protect ourselves and the ones we love, even if it’s from the ones we love," Wanda offered smoothly, her voice soft and drawing. "She is hurting you. Your natural defense may be to strike back."

"I-I don't want to hurt her," you laughed again, quickly removing the smile from your face. There was nothing funny about it, but you had a tendency to laugh in these nervous situations. But why were you so nervous that you had to fiddle with the collar of your shirt to breathe better?

"Y/n, it's perfectly normal to have intrusive thoughts. In fact, having a safe, open space to verbalize them can help them to go away." She tilted her head further, ticking the end of her pen against the notebook. She stood up suddenly, and your throat seemed to tighten.

She was so tall, you noted, as she walked around her desk with her hand trailing the wooden edge, her heels echoing in the spacious, silent office. She came around to the front of the desk, standing only a foot from you, and leaned against the edge of it.

"I may be a woman of the mind, but I am also a woman of science," Wanda began, her cool green eyes watching you closely as you looked up at her. She had never moved from behind that desk before, and now she was so close, and the light from the window made her face look so pretty. "A scientist must first gather his data, his evidence, before he can make any kind of hypothesis."

You squirmed in the sofa. "What kind of hypothesis are you trying to make of me?" you halfway accused. You never remembered saying anything to her about your intrusive thoughts, and therefore whatever suggestion she was making about was entirely rootless. It felt like an ambush, an accusation.

Wanda clearly saw that she had approached the situation entirely wrong by the nervousness on your face. Her face softened as she thought for a moment before rewording, "I can't help you unless you're honest with me, unless you help me know you better. I am a psychologist, not a mind reader."

A smirk carved the edges of her lips, and you noticed a strange glint in her eye. What did she mean by that? As much as it seemed Wanda could read your mind, you could never understand hers.

She added in a soft whisper, "Tell me the thoughts you have, y/n." Wanda then leaned forward, reaching out her hand and resting it on your knee—that's just how close she was to you. Her hand was warm and firm, almost able to wrap entirely around your knee. You glanced down to it, feeling heat spark all throughout your leg and through your body, bringing a slight sweat to your hairline. You couldn't help but imagine her hand sliding up your thigh—Wanda was a beautiful woman after all. She was keen, intimidating, mysterious. Her eyes always seemed to pierce right through you, and even though she had just said she couldn't read your mind, it always felt like she knew what you were trying to say without you saying it.

Something twitched across Wanda's lips as she watched you, unblinking. Then you started to think about what she had asked you. Had you had thoughts of hurting your girlfriend? You were not that kind of person, even though your partner was. She had never hit you, persay, but she was overall a self-righteous and unkind person who never minded grabbing you in ways that hurt whenever you didn't tell her what she wanted to hear. You thought back to the argument, when she had grabbed you and said such cruel words. You both were standing right in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows in your apartment on the tenth floor of the complex. In that moment, you had been filled with so much grief, so much frustration, so much loneliness and suffocation, that you had, in fact, briefly imagined just pushing her right through the window. You remembered it now, as if you had only then realized your thoughts, and a wave of terror flooded you at the thought. You could never do something like that. It was only an intrusive thought, like Wanda had told you. It was normal. It didn't mean you were capable of such a thing, right?

Either way, there was no way on hell or earth you would ever admit to thinking such a thing. You would be locked away, probably, intrusive thought or not.

"I don't have those thoughts," you firmly told Wanda, noticing that her grip on your leg had tightened. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it was strong. Your heart was beating so fast in your chest now.

Wanda seems to finally comply, realizing that she couldn't get something out of you that you didn't want to tell. She took her hand away from your knee, and it felt like a noose around your neck had loosened. She only nodded slowly, finally blinking, to signal to you that she understood. But the nod felt like a different kind of understanding—not of your reluctance to talk, but of what you were reluctant to say. It was like a nod of approval, that her so-called hypothesis of your intentions had been confirmed, like she had stepped through the door of your mind, saw what she needed to see, and closed it with a sense of calm victory in being right.

For the first time, you left Dr. Maximoff's office feeling worse than when you had came.

After your shift at work, which was gruesome as always, your girlfriend wasn't home yet. You were guiltily relieved at the fact, so you took a nap of emotional exhaustion. It had been daylight when you went to sleep, and you were awoken by a flash of red light through your closed eyelids. You jumped awake with an adrenaline-fueled start, looking around to find the cause of such a strange flash of red light. You had expected to see a fire, but when another bright flash of red light filled your vision followed by a burst of bright blue, and then the sound of wailing sirens, you realized it was an ambulance or the police. You turned to see the lights coming through your bedroom window—they must have been right outside in the parking lot. You called your girlfriend's name, and when you got no response, you looked to your alarm clock to see that it was now the middle of the night—how had you slept for so long? Where was your girlfriend?

Disgruntled by all the noise and lights, you pulled your unusually heavy body out of bed and went into the living room to look out of the larger windows to get a better view of what was going on, but you were startled to see the sight of your windows. Through the red lights flashing right into your dark apartment, your window was smashed open. The shattered glass formed an opening the size of a body. Still confused from sleep, you walked towards the window, avoiding the shards of glass on the floor. You were standing right in the opening now, looking down at the flood of police cars and ambulances in the parking lot right in front of your window. Policemen and paramedics were all rushing towards the building, right below you, and your gaze followed them until your eyes landed upon what felt like a nightmare. There, on the ground, covered in blood and twisted and mangled, was your girlfriend.

+

It had been a week. The funeral was yesterday, and you still had not processed what had happened. Grief didn't come easy to you. You had just lost your girlfriend, the only person in your life, so suddenly. How was a human supposed to register that fully? It was already the most horrible thing to happen to you, but the worst part about it was that you were being questioned by the FBI. You weren't a suspect—yet—but you had been called in twice now to go over what had happened. You told them the same thing, that you were asleep and that you woke up, and she was on the ground ten stories below. They kept asking you if you heard a break-in, or how you didn't hear the smashing of the window. You had nothing to say to them, which made you look even more guilty. You were just as dumbfounded and confused as them as to why you heard nothing until the lights and sirens woke you up. They seemed to sort of believe you, but all the evidence was against you. The only thing they had against their suspicions was that they weren't able to find any fingerprints on her body to signal that she had been pushed off. It was good that they didn't find your fingerprints, but it was worse that they didn't find any at all. It made you look like an OJ case, but you didn't even own a pair of gloves.

You felt like it was only a waiting game before they came and got you. You couldn't even afford lawyers, for God's sake. You were just a cook at a restaurant, whose money all went to the expensive therapy you had been seeking your entire life. In fact, instead of lawyering up, that's where you were now—with Wanda.

Wanda had kept her professional reservations as you sobbed on her sofa. She sat behind her desk, as emotionless and observant as ever, choosing to keep quiet for most of the session and just let you talk. You told her about the entire situation, the accident and the questioning. You were tangled between grief and guilt with no clear reason for it all. Finally, you had no words left to say, and Wanda gave a few moments of silence to clear the air as you wiped your tears, finally calming down.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, y/n," she said empathetically. "You must be feeling so many things right now. Grief, guilt… relief."

Your ears perked at her choice of wording, raising your teary eyes from your clasped hands to look at her with confusion. "Guilt—relief?" you croaked.

"I know you loved your girlfriend, y/n," Wanda began with a sort of sigh, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her desk. "But you were a victim to her abuse. That abuse is gone now, and naturally your mind feels relief to never be under her cruel hold again. That, naturally, is the most confusing feeling to a simultaneously grieving mind."

You were wordless as your eyes fell to the floor. She wasn't entirely wrong—but it felt so wrong.

"As for guilt... it's the most common thread I see in my patients who deal with a loss." You couldn't help but notice a sort of patronizing tone in her voice, and you wondered if it had always been there. "What if they had been there? What if they had stopped it from happening? Sometimes they feel guilt to such an extreme that they manage to convince themselves that they are the reason for their loved one's death." She paused as your eyes caught hers sharply. "They feel almost as if their loved one's blood is... on their hands."

A strange feeling filled you all at once. Do you feel guilty? Do you feel like the cause of her death? Like you're the one who did it? You imagined yourself pushing your girlfriend through that window, the shattering glass flooding her screams before a sickening squelch on the concrete down below... You shut your eyes. You were beginning to become wildly upset, like you were going to puke.

Wanda could see this, and she quickly stood up from her desk chair and walked towards you, taking a seat beside you on the sofa. You felt tense at her closeness, and even more tense when she carefully took your hand and held it in hers. Her hands were warm again as they cradled yours, soft yet firm. Her shoulder brushed against yours, and you could smell her sweet cologne, and you felt dizzy.

"It's okay to feel what you are feeling, y/n," Wanda whispered close to you, almost as if she was right beside your ear. "These deep, ugly parts of the human psyche often go untapped for the entirety of a person’s life, but they are in everyone. Dark thoughts, desires, impulses—they reside in each and every one of us."

One hand left yours, and you felt it tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You turned your teary eyes up to her, eyebrows sewn together as you tried to put together what she was trying to tell you. Her face was inches from yours, those haunting green eyes burning into you. You noticed her eyes flicker to the lower half of your face, her tongue stroking her lower lip discreetly before she turned her eyes up to yours again and resumed the mask you had only then started to notice.

"It takes a high level of cognitive function and human empathy to be capable of feeling what you are feeling right now, y/n," she said to you almost desperately. She didn't feel like your psychologist right now, as her hand pressed your lower back and seemed to lean you closer to her. She continued carefully, "Only few on this earth can. You should feel proud."

You felt like you were in a daze in that moment, wrapped up in the heat radiating from her body, now leaning closer to her without her having to guide you with her hand. Then her words finally registered in your clouded head—proud.

You sharply stood up from the sofa, nearly slapping her hand away. Wanda looked up at you in feigned confusion and concern.

"Proud?!" you repeated. "You think I should feel proud that my girlfriend is dead and I feel like I did it!" You nearly choked on your words as your tears blurred Wanda's face and morphed it into something monstrous. "I didn't! I didn't do it! I didn't fucking kill her!"

You turned away, feeling as if you were going to fall over, as you opened her office door and stormed through it, slamming it so hard that the painting on her wall nearly fell off.

[mira-s-bookclub]

Beneath a Veil of Shadows Part 3

Azriel x Reader

Note: Its very short, so i will try to post something the next couple of days :3

Warnings: Mention of trauma, kidnapping and perhaps torture?

Word Count: 1k

. . . . . ╰──╮ ╭──╯ . . . . .

The night had passed when Rhysand summoned the Inner Circle. The wind outside was relentless on The House of Wind, so much so that the house seemed to braze itself for every new gust of wind. Cassian walked hand in hand with his mate, both clad in whatever they first found in their closet. It had been purely luck having them sleep over at the House when Rhys summoned.

The evening before consisted of numerous drinks for the others, and sober dancing for Cassian and Nesta. He understood her need for distance against substances, not only so she wouldn’t relapse into old habits when things got bad again, but because she gagged every time, she smelled a certain drink. He couldn’t do anything other than laugh at her then. Drinking his own water, hoping they would end up in bed at the end of the night without her heaving at his breath.

But right now, the atmosphere was tense between them. Rhys wouldn’t assemble them all by dameati if it wasn’t urgent, and Cassian’s biggest fear was that it was concerning the only missing members of the Inner Circle; Y/n and Azriel.

The meeting room was at the end of the hallway up the stairs from their room. By the time Cassian and Nesta came up the stairs, Cassian could faintly hear Amren coming through the front door, presumably with Mor should the feminine whisper shouting give any indicator. A quick Hush from Amren seemed to shut her up and Cassian let out a soft laugh. Soft enough that only Nesta whipped her head towards him, frowning like she couldn’t believe he dared.

“It is probably not as bad as it seems, Nes. It never is.” He whispered in her ear, making her shiver. Her eyes seemed distant. “You don’t know that.

Coming to a stop by the door, they waited for the rest of the party. Everyone but Feyre and Rhys, and Y/n and Azriel, but that was to be expected, stood outside the door. Seemingly waiting for someone to dare open it, as if everything would change, for better or for worse. Cassian lifted a hand towards the door. “Whatever happened with those two, they will come home,” Amren swore softly. Cassian wished he could agree and opened the door.

At the head of the oval table sat Feyre. Apparently in silent communication with Rhys, considering the soft glances and Rhys stopping his pacing by the fireplace in the corner to kiss her cheek. “Sit,” he ordered. One by one they filed into their assigned seats, they had sat here a million times before, discussing wars and missions, politics, and information, never without knowing what they went too. As they did now.

Feyre sat on Cassian’s right, looking down at her hands in contemplation, he tried to catch her eyes, with no luck. She seemed so sad and… worried perhaps. At the thought, he glanced to Rhys having almost paced a hole in the floor, he, too, looked worried. Neither observation helped his anxiety.

Azriel was his stone when things went south, and now Cassian knew things would go further than south, and Azriel wasn’t here. He wouldn’t overreact to anything, having gone through almost anything one can imagen going through; Azriel was a fighter, not only a warrior, but a fighter through and through. He had fought his whole life, making him a safe option for Cassian to rely on. The chair opposite Cassian seemed so empty, he wouldn’t even begin to think about the chair to the left for Azriel’s. He had felt the emptiness the second she had left for the mission. They might not have known each other for long, considering she was a babe by the time Cassian had fucked his way through half the camps in Illyria, gotten bored and settled in Velaris, and gotten his High Lord locked up under a mountain. She had still taken hold in his heart, forever his little trainee.

Nesta brushed her hand against Cassian’s thigh, catching his attention. He turned his head to Feyre and Rhys, who stood by her side, not yet taking a place by the table. He was restless, Cassian noticed.

“They’re captured.”

Total silence followed the words. No one dared say anything at all, hoping they heard Rhys wrong. Cassian’s heart stopped.

“And how  did  this  happen?” Amren’s words were slow.

Rhys looked to Feyre, who watched their reaction. They had known this, it seemed, for a time. Cassian didn’t feel anything. He knew Nesta had turned her gaze to him, knew she was expecting something from him, as they all did. But he couldn’t think. Couldn’t think beside the roaring in his head. Azriel wasn’t new to this, Cassian knew, fuck he had even been captured a time or two, together with Rhys and some other warriors. It either ended in the enemy dying, or the enemy dying together with someone they knew, those times were the hardest to swallow. But Y/n had never been captured. She wasn’t made to fight like they were, but what she lacked was made up by her fierceness and unwillingness to give up. She had gotten better over the years. But something about Feyre’s tone made Cassian’s body lock up, it would be worse than a simple capture. And Y/n would never break.

Feyre took a breath, readying herself. “We got a note of their capture early this morning. Rhys and I have been negotiating with their Commander for the release of two of their prisoners in exchange for an artifact,” Cassian’s throat constricted. Commander. They had an army, a structured enemy, not just a lone fucker or fuckers thinking they’re good enough to take down a court. “Who, Feyre?” Cassian looked her in the eyes, this meant war again. At her hesitance Cassian growled, not at her, but the situation, the male thinking he was powerful enough to take this chance. “Rhysand,” Mors hard voice caught his attention, meeting her furious stare.

“The letter was signed ‘Commander of Koschei’s army’.”

. . . . . ╰──╮ ╭──╯ . . . . .

To be added to the Taglists, comment:

All ACOTAR - 🌹

All Azriel - 🥀

All TOG - 🌼

[thrawns-babygirl]

Insufferable (Crosshair x Fem!Reader 18+)

Summary: After you and Cross have an argument, he takes care of himself in the shower and he can't stand it.

Word Count: 1064

Warnings: Masturbation (M), Gags, Jealous!Crosshair, pissed off!Crosshair

A/N: Still getting the hang of writing and am scared to do anything with a lot of long form dialogue because its HARD so have some self indulgent Crosshair Smut while I work my way up to longer fics. Please tell me if this is garbage lmao i want to improve

Also pls send in some Crosshair requests! I'm really keen to write for the community otherwise this blog is going to devolve into really derange self indulgent kinks lmao

Sitting down in The Batch’s barracks after yet another successful mission, the topic of conversation shifted to the competition that Wrecker and Crosshair had every time they engaged with separatist forces. Crosshair was sulking, which was not unusual when you two were in the same room together, you were constantly bickering with one another, sending teasing and oftentimes scathing remarks back and forth trying to get a rise out of one another. Tonight, however it was compounded by the fact that he lost their little contest by a rather large margin.

“Well maybe you would have won if you were actually in the fight with your brothers instead of hiding up on that ridge. But Wrecker won this round fair and square.” You smirk over at the grumpy sniper as you finish up your routine post mission check up of the squad’s vitals. You were rarely needed to provide any actual medical assistance, but you were there to ensure that the Kaminoan’s premier squad was kept in good health in between long stints off-world.

“You wouldn’t know the first thing about being in the field, there is a lot more to it than you think, maybe try going out onto the front lines before you tell me I’m not doing enough, before you tell me I’m hiding” Crosshair bites out at you, removing the toothpick from between his lips and flicking it off to the side, earning him a chiding look from Hunter as it lands on the floor.

“Well I wouldn’t exactly call being a sniper up on a hill away from all the action ‘the front lines’ but whatever makes you feel better about losing Cross” You give him a sickeningly sweet smile as you input the Batch’s vitals into your datapad preparing to retreat to your own quarters for the night. You didn't mean it, the other boys knew you didn't mean it, but he always took the bait and getting a rise out of him was just so fun.

Glaring at you, Crosshair stood up and retreated into the refresher of the Batch’s barracks, grumbling various curses under his breath as he went. When the door closed behind him you turn to Hunter; “Too much?” you ask standing and walking towards the door to their barracks.

“Nah, he’s always dishing out way worse, needs to learn how to take it too” Hunter chuckles as he walks you to the door, he and the rest of the batch wishing you a good night as you turn and head towards the medbay to update their files before turning in for the night.

Closing the ‘fresher door he takes a deep breath his body betraying him as his concealed cock throbs against the hard plastoid of his codpiece.  He begins ridding himself of his armour, letting each piece clatter unceremoniously to the floor with a dull thud. Looking down to his traitorous biology he turned on the water, determined to have a cold shower and get you out of his head. Even if you would never know, he wasn’t going to let you have any power over him as he stands under the icy spray.

You were so utterly annoying, always sending cutting remarks his way, always trying to get under his skin, always trying to one up him. For a lousy doctor who had never seen the front lines you had an awful lot to say about how he and his brothers did their job.

So why couldn’t he get you out of his head? Why did your stupid fucking smirk make him want to tear your clothes off and shove his aching length into your cunt? Why did every back and forth send blood rushing south, ruining his resolve? He hated you… right?

Sighing and closing his eyes he tries to think about anything else to will his erection away, but you would not leave his mind’s eye. You were insufferable, a know it all, absolutely unbearable but also… exactly Crosshair’s type, quick witted, didn’t shy away from his abrasive personality and to top it all off you were gorgeous. Your uniform, while unflattering on most people, hugged your body in all the right ways, accentuating your curves and making you, at least in Crosshair’s eyes, utterly irresistible.

With a resigned sigh, his hand wanders down to his still rock hard, weeping cock. Now angrier with himself than you he begins running his hand along his shaft, thumbing his slit he releases a low groan as he began picturing you in more and more vulgar positions. He imagined you here in the refresher with him, on your knees, mouth open and QUIET for once as he shoved his length in and out of your mouth working up the tempo until he was fucking your face, head of his cock reaching the back of your throat as you gagged around him, tears streaming from your eyes as you struggled to take his girth.

Letting out a choked moan as he continued to fuck his closed fist, he let his mind wander further, to bending you over his bunk in the barracks while his brothers were out doing maker knows what, panties shoved in your mouth to muffle your moans as his hips piston in and out of your soaked pussy. Fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise, making his bunk groan out in protest at the wild pace he set, he pictured your muffled whimpers and groans as you took everything that he would give you like a good little slut. Your muscles clenching around him as he grew ever closer to his own release.

He would let you speak only to beg him to let you cum, to beg for him to cum in your cunt, beg for him to claim you. Tell him that only he could give you what you wanted as he pounded into you. He would ruin you for other men. He knows for a fact you’ve fucked regs in the past and the thought made his blood boil. He could fuck you better than any reg ever could. He would leave his mark on your body and soul.

Vigorously stroking his aching length, he brought his hand up to his mouth as he neared his end, biting down as he sprayed the ‘fresher wall with his seed, wanting more than anything to paint your stupid annoying face with his spend as you looked up at him and thank him for his gracious gift.

You were insufferable…. But maybe he didn’t actually hate you.

[medicatedanddedicated]

Second part of Konig story. Konig x OC. Prequel to the Konig we all know? Idk. MDNI. this god forsaken app screwed up the formatting and that’s what I’ll blame it on. I don’t even know if this will post properly

His bed was empty.

And now she was angry.

Whether they removed him from the hospital while interrogating her, or if he left on his own, she still followed protocol. Johannah walked to the office and reached for the phone on the desk when she noticed him.

Konig had commandeered the couch that she usually slept on even though she had her own room. He had found a pillow, her pillow and was sleeping soundly even though he did not fit on the couch at all. It was wide enough for his torso and shoulders but his legs dangled over the armrest.

She walked closer to him and marveled at the fact that he had not torn his stitches. He had also wrapped himself in a blanket since his fatigues were destroyed. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t have a gown large enough to fit him. And he was still wearing the surgical mask.

She left the room for a moment and returned with another blanket and draped it over him. There was relief that he had not left but the aggravation of her stipulations pissed her off.

Three fucking days. That’s it.

Konig made a soft noise in his sleep and she shook her head and walked to the desk then sat down. At least for these three days he would be taken care of.

Her hands monotonously grabbed his files and began charting the notes. Everything had to be done by hand on Kortac. The risk of their computers being hacked was a serious threat. Paper can be burned, a hard drive can be stolen and duplicated.

The charts she had to fill out never had their names which is why knowing them was important to her. Sometimes she wished she’d never taken the job. There was no way she would have known that the isolation was the biggest hurdle while on base.

There wasn’t enough money in the world for her to extend her contract.

-

When he woke up several hours later Konig was momentarily disoriented. The pain of the failed rescue reminded him of where he was. He glanced around the room to find the doctor sleeping at her desk. She had her head resting in her arms.

It didn’t look comfortable.

Her face was softened in her rest. There was no reason to be a pillar of bravery while dreaming. Maybe he spent too much time around hardened soldiers because he couldn’t take his eyes off her until she woke up.

Konig was a simple man. He liked her face. He liked her ass. He liked her backbone. After all she stood up to him and no one dared to do that. Well, no one lived after they did.

It made him grin under the mask..

The peace was lost when the alarm on her watch went off and she sprang up on the chair. Their eyes met serendipitously even though she looked like she’d seen the devil. She got up robotically then walked out of the room and didn’t say anything as she returned with more medical supplies and a rolling chair.

So he did.

“I’m sorry. I was not comfortable out there.”

Johannah was placing all the bandages on the end table with a smirk. She shook her head in disbelief to say, “You ripped out your IV jackass. And I don’t know how you could even walk.”

After she turned the lights on she sat down and began removing the gauze from his head. She moved the blanket down to his waist.

“Getting up and getting down is the hard part. Walking was fine.”

Her eyes rolled on their own at his excuse. She worked in silence and put on a pair of glasses with small microscopes on the lenses. Her breath came out slowly but he still felt it on his cheek.

He tapped his thumb and middle finger again, “You look like uh, I don’t know the word in English. Space creature?”

She stopped and gave him a deadpan look.

“These are my surgical loupes. I need them to enhance the focus on your skin. And I am not an alien.”

Konig actually chuckled. Her eyes were as big as a cartoon when she glared at him. She moved her intensity to his gash and resumed her work while he kept tapping his fingers.

He took in her presence while she was distracted. It was hard not to with her position. Johannah scooted even closer causing her chest to push into his injured shoulder and he hissed. It wasn’t from the pain. She didn’t notice and he tapped his fingers faster.

The only thing he could hear was the bright fluorescent lights buzzing and her breathing. He was moments away from being over stimulated when she pulled back to cover the lesion with new bandages.

He had to break the silence.

“You’re gentler than the nurse. He cursed at me when you were gone.” She shook her head in disbelief.

“Maybe that’s because you threw him across the room.”

Konig shrugged, “Maybe he deserved it.”

She moved on to the bullet wound in his shoulder and sighed. Her annoyance was palpable, but her bedside manner never changed.

“You know Konig, you’re pretty docile now. The complete opposite of when you arrived. I'm positive you aren’t this way in the field. And I’m not allowed to ask personal questions. I can still voice my opinion though.”

“I won’t tell anyone what you do. Ask away.” He winced. She had gotten to the point of cleaning the stitches.

Her mouth turned upwards in a grin, “Well isn’t that sweet of you. But I won’t break protocol so don’t even try.”

There was a dimple on one side of her face and he decided he liked seeing her smile. His nerves were on edge as if it were a date and he chastised his brute thoughts. This angel of a doctor, skilled with her hands, was not in any way thinking the same.

It was silent again and he cleared his throat, “I am different in the field. Like a light switch. It’s just business.”

He kept going and said, “School wasn’t for me. I signed myself up for the military as fast as I could. I did have dreams but I didn’t get what I wanted and had to settle. I still do the best I can.” He was revealing too much just to please her.

The last bandage was placed on his shoulder and she moved down his arm. Johannah cleaned the mark from his hastily removed IV with a frown. He hated it.

“I won’t disobey you again. I apologize.”

“You better not.” She demanded. Her tone made him hot and the fact that she was headed towards his thigh had him tense up. She pulled back the blanket while doing her best to keep him modest. His nakedness was on the forefront of his mind until she tugged at tape holding the old bandage, pulling hair with it.

He cursed in his native tongue and clenched his eyes closed.

“There is no way that could have possibly hurt more than the hole in your leg Konig.”

“I was not expecting it!” He barked.

“Were you expecting to get shot?”

His response was straightforward, “Yes. Always.”

She didn’t know what to say and rubbed where she gave him an impromptu waxing with a feather light touch. It was only for a few seconds before she unceremoniously swooped in to clean and redress his last injury.

“I have to release you in three days.” She disclosed somberly. “The higher ups deemed you too valuable to be out of service which means you get your way. I’ll have to keep checking the wounds every few hours and pump you full of vitamins and antibiotics before they yank you out of here.”

He nodded absentmindedly. Her hands were too distracting.

For a moment she paused and asked him, “Why’d you come to the office anyway? You can’t be comfortable on this couch.”

“It’s more comfortable than being exposed. There are too many entry points out there.”

His answer was acceptable because she at one time had thought the same thing when she first arrived. You always needed an escape plan in the military.

“I don’t think anyone could stop you.” She joked while moving her glasses to the top of her head.

Their eyes met instantly as he professed, “You did.”

Johannah sat still for a moment then smirked and went back to work. Just as she went to place the last bandage he all of a sudden shifted and started cursing in German. She assumed the worst until his good hand made a feeble attempt to cover his lap.

“Scheiße. Don’t look.”

It was hard not to. The complication was a foot away from her face.

Normally she would have ignored it, saving the patients anonymity and veering away from a very awkward conversation entirely. Unfortunately, Konig had brought direct attention to his poorly hidden erection.

This type of situation happened more times than she cared to remember with almost every soldier that rolled or walked through the door. She was, after all, one of the only handful of women stationed at this base. The fact that it took him this long to fall victim to his own body was the only thing that surprised her.

She was sympathetic and empathetic at the same time. And going through embarrassing ordeals like this made her remember that they were human instead of the machines Kortac hired.

Kortac may control their life but not their sexuality.

An eternity was shoved into those few seconds from his vantage point. He stared straight at the ceiling begging God to help him and for his mother in heaven to forgive him.

Her hand was still on his thigh.

“You have to understand that this can happen to anyone under high stress situations.” She offered, “I’m a doctor. I’m used to it.”

“Please kill me.” He groaned.

Johannah turned to clean up the supplies and accidentally snorted. Before she could help it she was covering her mouth with the back of her wrist, laughing.

“This is funny to you?!” He demanded.

She nodded exuberantly, “I can’t help it!”

Konig snarled, “You said this could happen to anyone! Do you laugh at all of them too?!” He refused to look at her and turned his head to face the back of the couch.

A few more seconds passed in his agony before she replied, “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing with you.”

“Woman, I am not laughing!” He yelled. “Man soll nicht über den Stolz eines Mannes lachen! Ich würde alles für dich tun, um mich aus meinem Elend zu befreien!”

She ignored his outburst and got up with all of the waste and stood over him. He was still refusing to look at her and her eyes darted to his lower half without meaning to. Goosebumps prickled over her skin at the unforeseen onslaught of unprofessional thoughts.

“Ohh.”

The word slipped out of her mouth instead of staying in her head like she wanted it to. He was doing a terrible job of hiding his prominent source of scrutiny with one hand.

This was the moment she leered at the rest of his body and she wasn’t laughing anymore, she wasn’t doing anything. There were scars riddled on his skin as if they were routes of the past and present. He was toned and muscular showing off his strength underneath all the anxiety he portrayed.

Konig glanced back at her and the movement snapped her out of her reverie.

They stared at each other for too long.

She was storming out of the office moments later, leaving him in hell and totally confused.

-

Johannah slammed the trash into a bin and decided right there that the supply closet needed to be inventoried. It was on the other side of the bay, far enough away from the office. That’s where the nurse found her, surrounded by unorganized chaos.

“Dr. Moore is everything alright?”

The bottle of amoxicillin she had in her hand flew and crashed onto the floor. Johannah bent down as a reflex and her forehead collided with one of the shelves causing an avalanche. There was a nasty bump forming on her head already.

“I’m fine.” She croaked.

The nurse went to say something but she cut him off, “Please check on Konig for the next few hours. Get him some food, get him a bath and whatever else he wants.”

He nodded and stepped away slowly.

“And find him some fucking clothes!” She yelled as he took off.

-

The closet was pristine within a few hours. Just like it had been when she walked in the first time. There had been no time to confront the thoughts she did not mean to have while reorganizing the shelves. The thoughts she could not control.

They crept in at the same time that the pain in her forehead reminded her that she almost gave herself a concussion.

"The physician must be able to tell the antecedents, know the present, and foretell the future — must mediate these things, and have two special objects in view with regard to disease, namely, to do good or to do no harm."

“Do no harm.”

She let out a haggard breath, “Dammit.”

The oath she took made her feel ashamed. For the first time in her career she had found herself attracted to a patient.

It pissed her off.

With nothing to distract her now, she had to leave the closet. She walked out the same time the nurse was leaving the office.

“How is he?” She asked as monotone as she could.

“No sign of infection still. I brought him food, and you too. He told me to tell you he was sorry. Did he do something to you doctor?”

Her voice cracked as she said, “No no. Just a simple misunderstanding.” He gave her a concerned look before taking her word for what it was and left her alone.

The world was not merciful because at that moment the phone began ringing in the office and she was the only one allowed to answer it. She hesitated then marched the length of the med bay and made a beeline for it without looking at Konig.

“Hello med bay, my clearance number is 082019.”

“Muffled speaking.”

“Well he can’t leave.”

“Muffled reply.”

“No, there are no other patients here today.”

“Muffled order.”

“Understood. I copy.”

She hung up the phone and turned around with the most frustrated stoic expression he had ever seen. Somehow he had sat up after the nurse helped him get dressed. He was wearing a sweatpants and sweatshirt combo with only one arm through a sleeve. The other arm was inside the top to restrict movement on his shoulder.

Her hands clasped in front of her and she decreed, “You get your way once again. Your team will be coming here to debrief with you shortly.”

He nodded once and didn’t raise his eyes. The hair on his head, grown out of its military cut because of all the weeks on the mission, was askew. She wanted to run her fingers through it.

With his downtrodden aura she could actually see the years of war riddled on his face. Konig still held that boyish charm and his size was frightening, but his countenance made him look small. He was a soldier who followed orders and respected his chain of command which is why he considered what he had done a punishable offense. Not only had he tried to kill her, in his eyes, he perverted her haven in the most selfish way.

There was a commotion now coming through the bay as footsteps and loud voices came closer to the office.

Her nurse popped in the doorway frantically, “Doctor! There’s-.”

He was cut off as a soldier pushed past him and screamed Konig's name and barreled over to him. Several more boisterous boys in men’s bodies filtered through and crowded the office along with a female operator who was just as animated.

Konig was sheepish and Johannah was stunned until one of them clapped Konig on the shoulder in camaraderie, causing him to recoil in pain. Her jaw dropped and she went to stop the tomfoolery when an arm went around her own shoulders heavily. A different faceless soldier took advantage of her surprise and began forcing her to the door.

“Sorry sweetheart, we’ve got some private business to attend to. Why don’t you go play house with the other nurse?”

Her eyes met Konigs just in time for her to have the door slammed in her face. The voices on the other side laughed and she could tell they were already destroying the peace.

There was nothing that could be done.

She had agreed for them to come.

The nurse was muttering obscenities beside her and she told him to keep an eye on the situation as she fled from the hospital. Johannah was on the precipice of shooting someone with all the stress. She trudged to her room which was thankfully down the same hallway and flung her door open with enough force to shake the walls.

Her footsteps echoed in the small space as she paced back and forth manically. She didn’t know what to do.

-

This is how she found herself in the communal showers leaning forward on her forearm on the tiles as the water cascaded down her skin. She had washed everything from head to toe but couldn’t pull herself away from the comfort of the heat and steam.

Her hand moved to the faucet anyway and turned it off.

The anger she previously felt had only dissipated when she pictured Konig. She kept getting trapped in a loop thinking about his blue eyes and how when he had grabbed her by the neck he only needed one hand to do it. It revealed something inside herself that she didn’t know was hidden.

“For fucks sake.” Johannah groaned.

As she dried off and began getting dressed in a clean pair of fatigues she tried to remember the last time she got laid. If she did the math right it had been well over half a year. Her unprofessional debaucherous thoughts were given an excuse they clung to.

It satisfied and calmed her sufficiently. For now.

She went back to her room and started combing through her damp hair when a noise caused her to panic. The noise was followed by the sound of laughter that irked her. She left her room and walked back to the med bay, anger returning with every step.

“You’re fucking kidding me.” She said in surprise.

As she went inside, the debriefing had turned into a party. Some of the soldiers had made themselves comfortable on her sterile hospital beds and the others were lounging around drinking a variety of beer and laughing like they were on a holiday.

Her stress had hit its breaking point. She did not overreact. The only thing she did was walk calmly to the office to make sure Konig was still in one piece. She had to weave her way through the mass of men and finally found herself in front of the couch.

There was an operator sitting next to him recounting a tale through slurred words while Konig held a damaged helmet in his lap. She had hoped to have the courtesy of surprise but he was staring at her as if he had been waiting for her since she left.

“Just look at it this way Cap’. Snipers don’t get to ‘ave as much fun as us. They’re playin’ hide and go seek while we do all the work.”

The drunk man laughed at his own words while Konig was fighting for his life in a staring contest with Johannah. She cocked her head and crossed her arms over her chest then raised her eyebrows. He wasn’t just trapped in her gaze. Her hair was down and still wet from her shower. It was dampening her shirt and dripping tiny droplets onto the ground.

He was also trapped by his immaturity.

Johannah finally opened her mouth to speak and he was already hanging on her every word even though she hadn’t said anything.

She would have, if she wasn’t interrupted by the same asshole who kicked her out.

“You must not have heard me when I said this was private-.”

She interrupted his interruption.

Johannah punched him in the mouth with all of the stress inside her. As he was knocked back she relieved an operator next to her of their gun and pointed it straight at his head. All of the well trained people in that room reached for their own weapons at the sudden conflict.

“Das genugt! Stand down!” Konig demanded.

He had jumped off the couch as soon as he saw her reach for the gun and was now behind her, his hand holding her arm to the ground. His company relaxed and followed his order except for the man she punched. She hadn’t noticed he drew his own gun.

Konig did.

“Lower your weapon.” He growled at him.

When he didn’t Konig moved his palm along the skin on her arm and covered her hand with his then pulled the trigger. The bullet went into the ground at the soldiers feet.

Konig narrowed his eyes and said, “That’s an order.”

The man relented and pushed his way out of the office. Konig barked another order and his entire team left in silence.

The adrenaline was leaving her body, forcing a throbbing ache down her spine. Her eyes fluttered but his large hand engulfing hers brought her back to the current moment. Konig removed the gun, disconnected the magazine with his one hand and threw it on the couch. He walked around to face her and towered over her.

His reprimand died the moment he saw the bruise on her forehead.

“Who did this?” He asked, grabbing her chin and inspecting the rest of her face.

Johannah was entranced by the size of his hands and all those improper thoughts resurfaced in a blink. A whine left her throat unwillingly. Konig furrowed his eyebrows.

“I banged my head on a shelf.” She replied.

“Dumme frau. You are reckless.”

“Says the man who got shot.”

He waved her off and limped back to the couch. She tried to help him and he waved her off again.

Johannah told herself she was just doing a wellness check by dragging her eyes along his body but it was completely self-serving. He was too busy trying to sit down to notice.

“I don’t blame you for what you did, doctor. We stole your hospital from you and he was a prick. But pointing a gun in a room full of mercenaries was just idiotic.”

She scoffed, “Don’t forget I’m a soldier too.”

He shook his head, “Then you should know better. Reckless. Even if it was cute.”

Her next words died on her tongue. She dissociated unintentionally until he tried reaching for the helmet that he dropped. Johannah rushed over and picked it up for him. It was heavy in her hands and she noticed the obvious impact of a bullet that coincided with the matching wound on his head.

“This is yours right?” She asked.

He nodded, “They brought it to me, my men.”

She bit her lip and handed it to him. He took it and stared at it as if it would speak to him. The helmet did nothing. Konig placed it on the cushion next to him and sighed. Johannah also sighed and started to clean the office from its surprise party.

While she guessed the operators knew better than to mess with official Kortac documents, they had knocked over anything not nailed to the ground. She moved in silence but she could feel his eyes watching her with every step.

The last thing she picked up was her, no it was his pillow now, then walked over to him. He took that from her as well.

“There better not be any more surprises Konig.”

He wouldn’t look at her.

“What is it?” She asked on the cusp of losing her civility.

“Chuckie might be locked in the closet.”

“Who the fuck is Chuckie?”

He didn’t want to answer her at first. Johannah had crossed her arms over her chest again. He could practically feel her eyes shooting beams into his head.

Konig sighed, “You’re French nurse, my team named him Chuckie.” He motioned to the top of his own head, “He looks like that doll that kills people. With the red hair.”

Her eye twitched and her lip curled in disdain. She quickly strode out of the office to the same closet she had reorganized earlier. When she opened the door, Chuckie was sitting on the ground with his back to the wall. He stood up and pushed past her.

The last thing he yelled before he walked out of the med bay was dripping with venom, “I’m not coming back until that bastard is fucking gone or dead!”

Konig could hear the explosive declaration and then he heard her footsteps returning to the office slowly. He swallowed dryly and his fingers started flexing and tapping on their own. There were many lives he had taken, some with his bare hands, yet waiting for her to walk through the door made him feel like he was outnumbered. He was a captain dammit. His resolve returned until she came through the threshold with a neutral gaze and pouting lips.

There were many things and scenarios going on in his head and then she said something surprising.

“You’re right. He does look like Chuckie.”

It started with a small grunt and then he began laughing so hard the mask came off his face. The unresolved awkwardness between them was covered up when she joined him. She was caught off guard by seeing this mountain of a man lose it.

No use denying it now. She knew she was attracted to him.

Being in the armed forces and being contracted by Kortac made life a little different than a civilian. Emotions came on strong. They knew life could be over in an instant.

Johannah stopped laughing and was overcome with sadness. She was three years into a five year contract. He was still her patient.

What she desired was unethical.

Now that she could pinpoint her problem a new emotion took precedence. Duty.

She tried to savor one last look at him as she stored her primal needs away when she noticed blood seeping through the fabric on his pants. She sprang into action and darted out of the room. He was holy and unequivocally confused until she ran back in with supplies.

Johannah started setting up in front of him for triage while pulling the chair into his personal space.

“You must have torn your stitches Konig. How the hell do you not feel that?”

He stuttered, “You gave me strong pain meds?”

She nodded while putting on her loupes and faced him.

“Take off your pants.”

It was like a flashbang detonated in the room as his ears started ringing. A ripple of need shot straight to his loins.

“Entschuldigung, what?!” He blurted.

“Do you want me to do it for you?” She asked. ”I have to check your other wounds now anyway.”

Her countenance was all business. He shook his head no and he reached for the elastic waistband of his sweatpants. He struggled doing it with one hand because he couldn’t lift his rear at the same time. She rolled her eyes and told him to hold himself up.

Her hands pulled the pants down his thighs, careful not to brush against his wound and he sat back down on the couch in just a pair of briefs. Goosebumps covered his flesh as she removed the pants entirely and she tossed them to the side.

Her hands got to work and she leaned her head in close. She somehow found his leg between her thighs, her chest on his knee.

He found chivalry out of thin air and said, “I can do this if you’re uncomfortable. I’ve sewn myself together before.”

Johannah scoffed, never looking away from the gash, “That would explain the deep scarring on some of your old wounds. Just relax. We’re both adults and fucking Kortac operators aren’t we?”

Konig agreed with a nod, never saying a word.

She got back to work.

He was already hard. He pulled the pillow over his lap and cursed under his breath. It was difficult not to notice. Neither brought attention to it but the air was thick.

“Why’d that guy have a problem with snipers?” She questioned.

“Who?” He asked.

She pressed her chest into his knee to get closer.

“The guy who was with you when I walked in. He was going on about how snipers play hide and seek.”

“I will tell you if you tell me something about yourself.”

His counter offer made Johannah blink in surprise. She looked up at him with her alien eyes and he was smirking. He still didn’t notice that he wasn’t wearing the mask.

Her reply was direct, “I was in my fourth year of residency when I joined the military. My brother lost his life in that terrorist attack ten years ago. He was always a little shit but he was trying to join the military himself and I just continued his dream for him.”

“How’d you end up with Kortac?” He prodded.

“I was deployed out East and our faction was ambushed. I was never great at hitting targets but if you put an assault rifle in my hands it’s hard to miss a shot. I saved a kid's ass while saving my own. I guess they liked what I did.”

He was so turned on he grabbed the helmet and put it on the pillow as another ludicrous layer. It didn’t matter that she was restitching him with nothing to numb the skin.

“Your turn.” Johannah reminded him.

Konig struggled at first, “I uh.” He then cleared his throat, “I was hoping to be a sniper once. I never missed a target but they said I was too big. My team never lets me forget it.” His fingers tapped on the helmet anxiously.

“I think whoever told you that was a moron. Who would expect a giant sniper? It’s the perfect camouflage.” She murmured, “Wars aren’t won by doing the same things. You have to be better and more creative than the opposing side.”

Johannah moved on to the last suture as he absorbed what she said with a far away look. Some of her wet hair had fallen forward to dance along his thigh.

“Alright big boy I’m all done with this one. Lay down so I can check the others.” She said while attempting to pull his sweatshirt off. His bad arm was holding his torso underneath as she maneuvered the cotton without hurting him but he was ramrod still.

“Konig, help me before I sedate you.”

He let go of the helmet to bring the sweatshirt over his head with her assistance and it finally hung off his good arm. Johannah reached for the pillow and yanked it off his lap causing the helmet to land on his terribly restrained arousal. The amount of cursing he did in German mortified her but the way he was gasping while coddling his erection had warmth drip like honey to her core.

She sprang from her chair and reached for his blankets.

“I-I didn’t mean to do that, I'm sorry Konig!” Johannah stuttered.

More cursing in German. He snatched the pillow from her and placed it beside him and then he grabbed the blankets with enough force for her to fall forward. She managed to keep her balance but not before getting dangerously close to him.

Konig laid down and covered his body and face with the blankets. She didn’t blame him. The only thing she did was move the blanket enough to see his shoulder and the wound on his head.

Johannah began rambling as she worked. Anything to stop thinking about the inappropriate things she could do.

“I’ll have to get your pants laundered because you ruined these but it wouldn’t have happened if your troop didn’t come in here and wreck the place like what was that assholes problem anyway he just hate women or something because he assumed I was a nurse which is just chauvinistic probably because he has a small dick and tries to compensate by being an asshole which you’d never have an issue with it’s just the stress I know it is I’m not offended at all I hope you know that I get it I do like I said I’m used to it and I know it’s not my looks it’s just that we’re all touch starved and horny.”

The speed of his good arm leaving his lap to cover her mouth with his hand was instantaneous. His palm and fingers were hot and dwarfed her face. Her eyes darted to his lap on their own then back to his head which the blanket still covered.

“Doctor, scheisse.” He snarled, muffled by the fabric. “Stop talking.”

She nodded and gave an audible agreement against his skin. She felt his fingers flex before letting go to attain modesty once more.

Johannah resumed in silence with a beet red color over her cheeks. When she was done with his shoulder she slowly moved some of the blanket off his head to reveal only the bandage.

He tugged it down further only revealing his eyes.

Her focus remained on her work.

“You may not be offended but I was raised better. If my Mutter and Oma were alive they’d be disgraced by how disrespectful I have been to a woman. To you, I mean.” He mumbled.

Johannah remained disciplined, “That is a little chauvinistic too.”

Before he could interject she continued, “That old world thinking is outdated but it is appreciated in certain cases.”

“Would you prefer I treat you more roughly?” He asked.

The memory of his hand squeezing her neck made her shiver.

“T-that’s not what I meant.” She stammered, “All I’m saying is that I’m not weak just because I’m a woman. I’m not naive.”

He nodded and stared at the ceiling.

-

That night she left him on his own after making sure he ate and had what he needed. It wasn’t till she got to her room that she herself ate for the first time that day.

He couldn’t get to sleep. Johannah had gotten him more clothes before she was gone and he laid in silence wearing another standard issue sweatshirt and pants. She had been right, he wasn’t comfortable on the couch but he was safer.

“What the fuck did she mean? Touch starved and horny? Ich bin verwirrt.” He asked the empty office. He could understand the words separately but together they made no sense since English was not his first language.

“Hungry touching? Turned on touching hunger? Fucking shit. I hate English. She thinks all are starving for sex?”

Konigs eyes widened.

“She’s hungry for sex?!” He barked to nothing. “Is that what she said?!” He smothered his face and cursed. She had spoken so fast he didn’t fully understand.

Fuck, he wanted this woman. He hadn’t been turned on by her touch although it helped put him in a worse state. He was turned on by her eyes and the intensity that pulled him in and drowned him. She had defeated him, yes with the help of drugs but she brought him to his knees even though he was lying down.

Konig was not a fool.

He knew his size intimidated everyone. It made him anxious in social situations but if he wanted to have sex he was going to get it. He’d push through his insecurities and wind up at some bar as long as the mission was through. He would sit until he felt comfortable but he never made the first move.

It wouldn’t take long before he’d be approached. He fit a certain desired attraction to some woman and it would snowball.

Meet. Fuck. Leave. No attachment.

He could see all the telltale signs from the doctor. The blushing. The way he would catch her checking him out.

But she refused to make a move and he was liable to explode.

She even acknowledged his perfectly proportioned dick.

Maybe it was because he was injured. Maybe he had concocted it all. Maybe he would have to make a move for the first time in his life. The idea had him tapping his fingers in a trance.

-

Day two arrived normally.

Johannah checked his wounds, made sure he had all needed again, then disappeared. She even made sure he had books on strategies, weapons manuals and a TV to pass the time.

It pissed him off.

Midday she returned. Checked him and left.

When she came back at night he was in a foul mood. He was laying on the couch and made no attempt to greet her or even look in her direction. His face was covered by the blanket and he honed in on some foreign show about ice fishing like it was his favorite.

She sat down like usual but didn’t touch him. He noticed and waited then finally looked at her. Johannah was staring at a piece of black fabric in her hands, smoothing her thumbs in circles.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been distracted today.” She began, “I went to bed last night but couldn’t stop thinking about you not being able to be a sniper. I felt like it would be if I was told I couldn’t be a doctor.”

I was true to an extent. She had forced herself to think about anything other than running her hands over his body.

“I know you can’t be utilized as one but I figured there wouldn’t be any harm in you looking like one. And I know you have a stigma about showing your face so I made you something.”

Konig forgave her aloofness silently.

He went to sit up and struggled causing her to help. Now he had to wait for her to find the courage to keep going.

“Don’t laugh. The only thing I had was an old shirt. I sewed the neck and tucked in the sleeves so you could still strap your helmet on. I cut out some eye holes and I hope they are placed correctly or else you won’t be able to see.”

Johannah finally lifted her eyes to meet his.

“Can I put it on for you Konig?” She breathed. He nodded.

She leaned forward as he hunched over to allow her to drape the cloth over his head with shaking hands. He was encumbered by her scent and closed his eyes in rapture. He opened them when she centered the hood on his face.

Her smile was wide as she said, “Doesn’t look too bad. Let me go get a mirror for you to see.”

She came back with a tray for medical supplies that was reflective.

When she turned it he was met with his own reflection.

He looked intimidating and not because of his size. It hung off his head like a cloak and Konig thought he looked like the grim reaper. The eye holes were sewn around the circumference for stability. He knew she styled it after his tactical gear and it would match flawlessly. Johannah set down the tray to admire her work and his eyes bore into hers with no apology.

“Do you like it?” She asked sheepishly.

He wanted to marry her and whisk her away to the mountains. Where he would either worship her like a goddess or make sweet love to her until she was round with his children.

His inability to speak had her nervous.

Then he grabbed her awkwardly to embrace her. Konig pushed her into his chest as he nuzzled into her neck.

“Du gehörst zu mir. Jetzt und für immer. Thank you doctor.”

No one had ever taken the time to understand him. No one had ever been so kind except his own family.

He pulled off the hood instantly and made her look at him by holding her at the back of her head. Johannah's mouth opened in surprise as he rushed his lips on her own.

The line had been crossed. The line did not exist anymore.

She froze but quickly returned the kiss. He whined into her mouth when her tongue found his. Her fists curled and gripped his sweatshirt as he tasted her with need. Johannah felt her discipline crumble as she climbed into his lap and sat on his uninjured leg.

His hand traveled lower along her spine until he found her rear and smothered her cheek with his greedy palm and fingers. The other hand came out from under his shirt to squeeze her thigh.

The pain was ignored.

Her hands were unshackled by her rules as they desperately felt all the muscles she had denied herself of. They were panting against each other and she nibbled at his lower lip. He grabbed her hip and rolled her against his thigh.

Konig released her mouth to latch onto her neck. He did dastardly things on her skin while trying to move her leg to wrap her thighs around his waist.

“Wait. Your stitches.” She whimpered.

“Sit on me or I’ll make you.” He growled into her throat.

It was no use to fight his strength and now she was straddling him as his hand untucked her shirt and burrowed into it to feel the heat of her body on his palm. He was unable to lift his hurt arm and placed the hand attached under her ribs. The other free hand made no effort to be shy as it snuck under her bra to fondle her breast.

The action had her grind onto the bulge pressing into her heat. She was slick and grossly wet. He rolled her nipple under his thumb and kissed her again. Her tongue was instantly on his as he frantically released her chest and tried to remove her shirt.

Johannah got the hint and tore it off her body along with her bra. Konig couldn’t help it as both of his hands touched her crazed.

“Gott verdammt. Fucking perfect.” He said hoarsely.

She whimpered and clawed at his pecs with the same ferocity as him. In a blink, his own shirt was carefully discarded. She wanted to kiss his chest but he immediately brought his mouth to her nipple and she gasped in surprise.

Her hand coasted over his torso like a water droplet. She reached his pelvis and wrapped her hand around his dick through his pants.

“God I’ve wanted to touch you like this so much.” Johannah admitted. Which made him let out a guttural moan.

It was needy, deep and foul.

Konig reached for her belt and it gave her the freedom to kiss and gnaw at his collarbone. She released his dick and weaved her fingers through the hair on his stomach to his chest and kneaded his nipple unabashedly.

Her belt was quickly unbuckled and her pants were unbuttoned.

His hand found her core. She very nearly dripped on his fingers.

He had to pause to gather his fortitude. Johannah didn’t let him and she rolled her hips and kissed him. He caressed her clit and could not stop as he put two fingers inside her. She closed her eyes and threw her head back.

“Look at me.” He demanded.

Her eyes met his and she rode his hand. When she was close he removed it altogether. She whined angrily. He laughed.

She got off his lap and he thought he fucked up until she removed her pants with her underwear in one swoop. He would have salivated at her nakedness but she was frantic. She bent over to tug at his pants just enough to free his erection.

Johannah's pit lurched wantonly. “Holy fuck.” She heaved.

He definitely swelled and not just with pride. She leaned on his good thigh and touched him, wrapping her hand around his length. He was just as wet as her. It cascaded over the head and she bit her lip as he jerked.

In one second she was straddling him again and aligning herself over him. His hands found her hips once more.

She lowered herself and he entered her slowly and precisely.

There were a string of German curses as her warm walls put his dick in a vice.

“You’re so tight.” He whined unwittingly.

Johannah was too focused on her task. If she went any faster she was sure it would hurt. She’d go down and rise slightly to spread her arousal. When she finally bottomed out he was so deep inside her she was momentarily stunned.

Konig was lost in pleasure. She clenched her pelvic floor and he moaned.

“You have to move leibling. Don’t make me come like this. I need you to move. Gott, use me. I want you to come first.”

Johannah covered his mouth with hers. She kissed him and groaned with her first rise and fall. Her hands found his shoulders for stability and she moved herself up and down.

Too slowly.

He gripped her hips and lifted her and thrust as much as he could when she met his sex with her own. Precisely and forcefully.

She cried out. He was going to come at this rate. The fucking noises she was making were sent straight to his dick. She began riding him without his help and he reached in between them to touch her clitorous for her to feel more. Faster.

Suddenly she grabbed his free hand and put it on her neck. The bullet wound on his shoulder was screaming yet he seized her throat which finally pushed her over the edge.

She came with an open mouth and no words.

He tried to keep going but the way she squeezed him had him spilling inside her without warning. He orgasmed into her climax.

It was a lot. She collapsed on him, overstimulated.

They stayed like that panting until the hand still on her neck lifted her face to his. He kissed her and began thrusting again.

-

Later, he would find out just how much she had been holding back.

He created a monster. Obsessed with him as much as he was her.

-

Days later he had been released but never left until he had to leave on a mission.

-

Months later when he was made a colonel she was the first to know.

-

Years later when her contract was over, every leave he had was spent in her arms.

-

When his own contract was over, she was waiting for him on the porch of their house secluded in the Austrian countryside. He rushed to her, afraid she had been an illusion.

I wrote this for days. I hope you understand this was kind of a prequel for him. How he got his hood and all that. If you liked it great. If you didn’t, whoops.

[pebiejeebies]

I’m having an identity crisis../vneg

(It’s kinda like why I didn’t post much ig.. I’m so sorry)

It’s not like gender identity, or theriotype Identity

more like who the fuck am I?? (OSDD/DID/Systems pls interact,, I think I might be a system)

One day I feel like pinkie pie, bouncing around the walls and making everyone smile, in the SAME day, I get so angry and annoying, or oddly get good grammar without misspellings..

ASK @akalikestodraw OMFG. We had like a sad therapy session and when I was on my phone (Keep in mind that the keyboard makes me misspell TOO MUCH, and even @moon-fence can agree,, lmao) I was SO FORMAL

I used fancy words, I even used the period most of the time?? I barely misspelled???? WHAT?? Then after the vent suddenly I’m back to misspelling again?? WHAT???? Keep in mind AGAIN that I was typing pretty fast in both situations, and the faster I type the more likely I am to misspell

For some reason, this happens to me a lot, I have other weird things too

I used to draw on procreate, magma, whiteboard fox, and ibis, AND EVEN THE FILES APP.

AND i SWEAR my artstyle was so specific, in each and every one of these apps, it’s as if I flipped a switch in my brain when I went to one of them.. EVEN IRL MY ARTSTYLE IS SO DIFFERENT.

I’ve been having so much weird memory gaps and slight hallucinations

I remember last night I swear I saw someone’s face on my pillow

And sometimes when I cover my eyes with my fingers I see something that resembles a human, or at least a face of something

The eyes always were vivid, but rarely I’d see the mouth and the rest (idk if this counts as anything but it always intrigues me since I never hear my sisters having the same thing)

I feel like I don’t control my body alone yk?? Like sometimes I’m on autopilot and everything is just happening, kinda like right now while I’m typing this

sometimes I start feeling like I don’t exist, sometimes I feel like what I post is always going to be ignored because I know I don’t exist, and sometimes I think it’s the opposite

Sometimes I think I’m the only one alive seeing anything from text on a screen, and some images, there were just so many times and experiences that don’t feel right

If I am one person, why do I feel like ten different personalities keep switching on and off? IS THAT WHY IVE BEEN GETTING THESE WEEKLY VENTS IN THE PAST??

I’m either in constant stress and anxiety, or constant exhaustion and pain, OR constant excitement and energy

there’s still so much about me but I know nobody is interested in a long ugly essay about my shitty ass identity crisis

right now, I feel like my memories are just stuck to this moment.. I just wish I knew who the fuck I am at this point

[eldritchmochi]

wip wednesday!!! ive been sitting on this dialogue for like FOUR MONTHS, carrying my notes for it across several files, so im very glad to have this scene finally fucking written

from COPING SKILLS, as per usual. hopefully will have this section done and posted innnn a week and a half???

-

It's—perfect. It's perfectly perfect, exactly the way Essek would wish to spend a lazy Da'leysen even if the thought that he could had never occurred to him.

It's better when Caleb buries himself deep into Essek, holding there as he catches his breath before melting over top of Essek. Essek thinks maybe Caleb—but no, Caleb sighs, "I simply cannot keep up with you."

"You're doing spectacular," Essek tells him. "I can barely keep up too."

Caleb laughs and shifts and Essek thinks for a moment that he intends to get off him so he relaxes the hold he has on Caleb's shoulders. Instead, Caleb settles, comfortably pinning Essek with his full weight. The feel of him on Essek makes Essek's cock twitch, begging for attention after so long ignored.

"I'm too old to marathon like this. What made us think this was a good idea?"

It's Essek's turn to laugh, the sound sliding into a moan muffled against Caleb's neck when Caleb's cock twitches in him in turn.

"Because I'm a fucking idiot," Essek tells him. "We are not doing this again, don't let me even if I really want to." He pauses, noting for the first time the extent of his bone-weary exhaustion, and sniffs before adding, "I will require two-to-five business days' notice before any and all extra curricular activities going forward. We will have a schedule if only so I don't fuck myself into oblivion."

The feel of Caleb laughing so much while still so deep and so hard within Essek is—good, beyond good, absolutely incredible. Essek rides it out, biting his lip at the feel of Caleb's laughter within him, holding tight to Caleb's shoulders.

"Is that a promise or a threat?" Caleb asks through his laughter.

Essek considers his response, prefacing it with a small, haughty noise, simply saying, "Yes," and Caleb is overcome with a fresh wave of laughter.

Essek hides his soppy smile against the curve of Caleb's neck, so very pleased to have made this man, this beautiful, wonderful man, laugh so hard, and in the middle of sex too. It is, again, not something he would have wanted to have, but now that he has it, he holds it dear.

Adeen would never have allowed himself such fun, and Essek finds himself better off for it.

Caleb pulls back, grinning as he says, "Ja, well, I suppose I will ensure I file the appropriate forms going forward." He can barely get the sentence out before he's laughing again, forehead against Essek's.

"You'd better," Essek says, tipping his chin up to kiss Caleb's smiling lips. Caleb kisses him back readily, over and over, each one broken by the grins that infect both of them.

[winterspiderpurrs]

Just gimme a stalker Bucky story for Peter. He’s too innocent and doesn’t notice. Just gimme it please. Saw last prompt someone wrote and it hit me like a truck and now I’m asking for me

God was he beautiful.

Bucky was currently kneeling on the fire escape, peering into the window.

His precious Peter was right there. It's been a year since he first met him. By pure chance even.

He was online , finally deciding on getting a pet cat. He found one he just knew he had to get. But he had to make the trek to Queens.

He was in the shelter finishing up his paper work for his adoption of Alpine when he walked in. He was covered in scratches and was holding a very upset cat who was currently wrapped up ina sweater.

Handing over the kitty to the older woman behind the desk.

" I found 'em in an alley. Pour thing looks starved. Our apartment doesn't allow pets, but I knew you were one of the few non kill shelters around."

The guy was just to precious. Bucky glanced down at the paperwork the guy was filling out to turn the cat over.

Peter Parker huh.

Thankfull for his photographic memory, he filed it away for later.

Once he was home, he still couldn't get the thoughts of Peter out of his head. He was able to do a quick search. He shook his head, didn't he know how to set his privacy settings on his social media apps?

His fingers hover over his instagram. The photos there were artist. Less selfy. Occasionally, some photos of friends, food, and even less of Selfies. But the ones there? The image of Peter out in a pool.

That was quite a view, but after some digging, it appears his little animal lover was smart. Talking king of nerds smart. Graduated from MIT with a doctorate this past year, currently working at Stark Industries. Photo was from when he was out at a conference.

From there, Bucky decided to start hanging around Queens a little. And if he happens to run into Peter? Who was he to say it wasn't fate.

He started showing up to different food places that have frequently showed up in the instagram photos. He created a fake page business page to be an active follower.

Spotting Peter often, never actively interacting with him. Though it was a chance that he decided to bring Alpine with him. She had too much energy sometimes, so he started taking her on long walks.

He decided to walk her in Queens. He frozen for a moment when he heard a gasp.

" Oh! Sir! Look at this pretty girl! May I pet her?"

Bucky turns to find Peter smiling brightly up at him, he nods briefly. Peter quickly kneels down and offers his hand to Alpine to sniff. Alpine then starts rubbing her head again his hand, giving a soft purr.

Peter giggles, and Bucky smiles. See? Even Alpine approved.

They started talkin about cats, how Bucky adopted Alpine and such. Then it happened.

" I wish I could get a cat. Our apartment doesn't allow pets. I tried to convince Quentin to get one and I would take care of it since I'm basically at his place all the time. But he said no "

Who the fuck was Quentin. " Quentin?"

"Oh! Thats my boyfriend" the same that was on Bucky's face fell. He didn't see an relationship status anywhere on what he found. And there weren't any typical relationship romantic photos anywhere.

They part ways not long after, but the burning heat of jealously was growing.

He still made sure to start showing up more to a local park Peter goes to. It didn't take much to convince Peter to exchange numbers. Through that he was able to do more digging online he found Quentins profile.

What a douche.

From the posts he makes to the the sleezing comments, he leaves on people's profile. He even found the guys profile on several dating apps, too.

This guy wasn't worthy of his Peter. Peter who helps old ladies who cross the street. Peter who is loving and kind to animals. Peter who helps tutor kids at the homeless shelter he volunteers at. Peter, who gives more then he takes.

Bucky feels bad as he watches Peter cry himself to sleep in his apartment. Quentin isn't worthy of the tears Peter were crying. But its for the best.

Not even 24hours ago, Bucky had followed Quentin to a club, it wasn't hard to find the guy. Currently trying to talk to a girl, who looked way to young to even be here. He made an offer of drugs, and was able to get Quentin into a dark corner of the club. He made swift jabs to the mans side. The knife glittering under the lights, it was a short blade, mainly to hurt and not kill.

He made some threats that if he didn't break up with Peter, well he would be better prepared for next time. And no one would be able to find him. He was quiet pleased with himself, as much as it hurt him, knowing he hurt Peter. It's better this way.

That way, within the next several months, he could really make Quentins life more miserable. Like how his boss will find out that Quentin was stealing work and selling it to the competition. Insider trading. Stealing ideas claiming them as his own. If he doesn't end up in prison well, Bucky is good at making problems disappear.

He pulled out his phone, making sure it was on silent before he started typing. He was avidly watching Peter as he does. He smiles as he sees Peter sit up to wipe the tears from his eyes as he responds. His heart warms as he sees the small smile that appears.

Just a few more months, the long game is how he is going to be able to win Peter over. He already purchased a property upstate, a cabin that he has started renovating, perfect for them. Would get a satellite if he needs to, to make sure Peter would work remote.

So he would never have to leave.