#i took the rug up to protect it from getting chewed

[greatwesternrailway]

bessie looking at the cat. not pictured: the cat growling and giving her the death stare of all time.

[korebringerofded]

I Can See You- Joel Miller X F!Reader

Summary- Your father is the boss of a major crime family that developed after the apocalypse. Life is pretty safe and boring until your fathers new associate, Joel Miller starts coming around and he starts to change everything.

Tags- Post apocalypse, pre!Ellie, one use of Y/N?

Warnings- Age gap, mutual pining, language, smut, mostly future smut, dirty thoughts, sexual situations and dialogue. Joel being hot and protective

Words-3500

Author Notes- Definitely doing a part two for this bad boy. I promise the next one will have so much damn spice I just gotta edit lol.

Thanks for checking out my stuff! Requests are open

Reblogs and comments are very nice please and thanks

I wanna do a whole Joel series with Taylor Swift songs soon so if anyone would like that please let me know!

Please do not copy, use my work, or put it through AI without my permission or I'll be really sad about it.

As much as you would have loved to have just forgotten this embarrassingly huge crush you had, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to get the image of your fathers newest associate out of your head.

You honestly should have known better, considering the first time you heard the name Joel Miller was regarding how dangerous he could be, how rugged and cold. He had apparently been caught smuggling some supplies around your fathers territory and by the end of it all a deal was struck and just like that Joel was working for your father.

It was the first time that you came in contact with him that really doomed you to fall for him so completely. You couldn’t say what exactly it was that drew you to him at first, he was handsome, obviously, and incredibly dangerous, maybe that danger is what made him so tempting to you, he was forbidden and a part of you liked that.

The first time you met Joel in person was a few weeks after you had first started to hear rumors of him around the compound. He was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee as you stood in the doorway, a bit shocked by the unknown visitor. He was…terrifyingly handsome, sharp jaw, scruffy beard, deep pools of brown eyes that you could get lost in. His salt and pepper hair that was perfectly messy matched his casual dress, jeans, work boots, plaid shirt. You stared at him for a moment, chewing at your lip before finally saying something. As his eyes settled on you, still in your pajamas and messy hair.

“G-goodmorning, I’m (Y/N).” You struggled to steady your voice, failing miserably. 

“Joel.” He partially turned to face you, raising his hand up to wave as he gave you a polite nod before going back to his coffee. You guessed he wasn’t really much of a conversationalist and tried to shrug it off before making your own coffee and retreating back to your room.

It went on like that for a few weeks, you watching him patrol the compound through your bedroom window, running into him when you both made coffee in the mornings, passing glances in the hallway

“You can’t walk around like that!” You sighed, setting your coffee on the counter behind you as you walked over to Joel and ghosted your small hands over Joel’s plaid shirt, it was a dark green and blue and was rather well worn with tears and it had been missing the middle button for years.

“I will be fine, darlin.” Joel snorted, rolling his eyes at you as he shook his head. “I don’t have any big dances comin’ up so I doubt anyone’ll notice.” Joel took a bite from the toast in his hand as he looked down at you, admiring your curves and glowing skin. 

Damn, he really needed to get himself under control.

“It most certainly is not fine.” You put your hands on your hips, scowling at him. “Take it off, I am fixing it for you.” You held a hand out expectantly.

Joel couldn’t help but do as you asked so after he chuckled and teased you just a bit longer he was unbuttoning the remaining buttons on his shirt before tugging it off and handing it to you as he tried desperately to ignore the way your delicate hands felt against his as they brushed for just a moment.

You went back to your room holding the shirt to your chest with bright red cheeks, the fresh pine scent just enveloped you as you held it close to your face to breathe in his scent. 

Ugh, you totally were not getting creepy with this annoying crush at all.

It was the next morning and Joel was leaving his room in the compound when he felt his work boots knock over something and when he glanced down he saw a small shiny gift bag laying on its side.. He couldn’t help but grin and chuckle as he picked it up and pulled out his shirt, running his rough hands over your handiwork, not a hole or tear in sight and the missing button had been replaced with a shiny red one. It had never looked better. Something in him started to tear away then, such a small act of kindness. It just really got to him as he felt you start to warm the parts of him he had thought were cold and barren. 

When Joel stopped showing up for coffee you were more than disappointed as it had become something you secretly looked forward to everyday. The lack of seeing Joel seemed to only make your mind run in a circle of anxiety and embarrassment. He had taken up so much of your mind it was starting to drive you mad.

The next day you saw Joel it was probably the hottest day of the entire summer and you had taken refuge in the pool, a thin pink bikini covering your body, not leaving much to the imagination. It was damn hot and you honestly didn’t care, floating in the pool as you tried to ignore the blazing heat. You had been in the pool for a while, skin getting a bit pruny and eyes closed as you enjoyed the cool water.

“Hey! Care for some company?” A familiar voice made your eyes open quickly and in front of you on the edge of the pool was a curly brunette with wide shoulders and a toothy grin. Caleb, was one of the younger guards your father had hired recently and he was rather handsome, cocky and annoying, but still handsome and (most of the time) enjoyable.

“You do know if my daddy finds out your slacking off again there will be hell to pay?” You couldn’t help but giggle and tilt your head to the side. Caleb shrugged and sat his rifle down, untucking his shirt from his pants and starting to lift it over his torso. It was hard not to let your eyes wander at his tan toned body, and muscular arms. 

“He won’t be home for a while so-” Caleb’s cocky words folded into a yelp as he was dragged from the edge of the pool by the back of his neck.

“The fuck are you doing, boy? Get the hell back to work.” Joel spat, his thick Texas accent was so prominent now. Your eyes were so focused on Joel that you didn’t even notice Caleb grabbing his things and looking pale as a ghost while he ran off.

To be frank, Joel looked furious, his thick muscular arms bulged from his tight shirt as he stood at the edge of the pool, his sharp jaw tight as his arms were crossed over his chest. His dreamy brown eyes were now dark and stormy as he kept them locked on you.

It made you feel a bit meek and yet, you were also a bit pissed yourself.

“What is your problem?” You felt your cheeks getting hot as you started to get out of the pool, still dripping wet and hair reeking of chlorine as you stood in front of the scowling man. 

You hadn’t realized until now just how…huge that he was. His shoulders were broad, arms thick and rippled with muscles.His scent was thick and alluring, and being this close to him made your anger dwindle. 

“You shouldn’t be out here like this, kid.” Joel sighed, his eyes looking you up and down, his fists clenching and unclenching as his nostrils flared. 

“I am not a kid, and I really don’t need you to lecture me, old man.” You couldn’t help but jab at him, going to turn away before his rough hand gripped your arm tightly, his brown eyes staring intensely into yours.

There was a moment you were both frozen like that, his hand gripping your wrist. Joel honestly couldn’t help but rub his thumb over your wrist, gently drawing slow circles along your flesh. The water from the pool still dripped down your body and onto the pavement below, the sun beating down over your smooth skin. For a moment you swore you saw that cold demeanor melt away, for just a single moment before it was back and he was scowling again. Joel immediately let you go, turning away almost suddenly as he walked off. 

You hated to admit it but your heart lurched at the loss of contact and you stared at his broad shoulders as he walked away, wide eyed and cheeks a bright pink. It was hard to breath, hard to move as your heart beat echoed in your ribs and traveled through your whole body. You hated to admit how he was making you feel, it was confusing and sent waves of heat through your body as well as frustration.

Seriously, what was his deal?

He was really starting to take up a lot of your thoughts and the two of you had barely spoken aside from that day. It was starting to drive you nuts, you found yourself looking forward to running into him more and more as time went on. 

It would be two weeks before you saw Joel again as he was sent out on a job away from the compound (You knew better than to ask too many questions about specifics.) though you really couldn’t help but feel he was purposely trying to avoid you.

The evening sun poured into the kitchen as you sat at the counter, legs crossed as you flipped through the pages of your book. In all honesty you were desperately trying to distract yourself from thinking about Joel and his damn hands. The way he looked at you was unlike anything you had experienced before, it was intense and a little terrifying. 

You thought about those rough hands touching more than just your wrist, you thought of them dancing across your flesh expertly, back arching and breath ragged as his stubble ran across your chest and navel and lower until he was between your thighs, eyes hungry as his hands gripped your hips.

 Your thoughts were starting to consume you and you couldn’t help but audibly groan and let your head fall against the counter. 

“Uhhh..You okay there?” Joel’s voice cut through the room like a knife, his deep voice sent goosebumps over my neck and back. 

You were going to die of embarrassment, after all this time and he just shows up at the worst possible moment. 

You reluctantly sit up and turn towards him, cheeks a bit pink. 

“I'm fine- Woah.” When you faced him you felt yourself tense up. He had deep bruises on his jaw and his lip was busted open. “What happened to you?”

You didn’t really think about it, you grabbed a clean rag and walked over to him, tugging on his arm to make him sit in a chair so you can clean him up. 

“Its’ fine-I can handle myself.” Joel holds his hand up to stop you, your eyes locking for a moment. He can’t help it, your pleading eyes and trembling bottom lip made him fold almost immediately and his hand fell so you could move between his legs, gently pressing the rag to Joel’s bleeding lip. 

“It’s not ‘fine’.” You rolled your eyes, suddenly feeling embarrassed by your closeness but you focused on his lip, soaking the blood up and feeling a bit dazed at how damn handsome he was, how his thick pine scent mixed with the sweat on his brow and how that all made your heart leap in your chest.

“I’m gonna get the first aid kit- I’ll be right back.” You whispered, taking a step back as your nerves started to fully set in, this was too much, he was too tempting. If you were too close to him you were going to majorly embarrass yourself. You just wanted him so badly it was starting to fester in the pit of your stomach.

Once you returned you finished cleaning his wounds and dressing them, his breath spreading over your chest and neck as your delicate hands patched him up. You were really just too close for comfort. 

Joel was dying inside, clenching and unclenching his fists as he struggled to resist the urge to run his hands over your hips and to just fucking ruin you. He had certainly been avoiding you like the damn plague, you were gorgeous and going anywhere near you was sure to be nothing but trouble for the older man and yet…something about you kept him coming back to you, despite the dangers, despite the taboo. He just wanted you in every way. 

“All done. Now you won’t bleed all over the place.” You teased, feeling a deep sense of relief as you finally and yet still reluctantly backed away from Joel, cheeks heating up as his eyes met with yours again. 

“Thanks, darlin. Maybe you can be my personal nurse, hm?” Joel stood, smirking as he took a few steps closer, his chest inches from your face as you stared into those endless eyes of his. Joel slowly reached his hand up and brushed your cheek with a look so soft and cool it made your head spin. “See you later.” He mumbled softly before he turned away quickly and was gone just like that. 

He almost didn’t control himself there, his mind and heart racing in tandem as he willed himself to walk away, willed himself not to think about your smooth plush hips or your gemstone eyes that glimmered as they looked up at him, full of innocence and sweetness. Something that Joel, deep deep down, wanted to corrupt. He just had to avoid you at all costs. He could do that, right?

After that it was almost a month before you ran into him, and it was less so running into him and more so your father being a control freak and only allowing you to leave the compound when accompanied by a trusted guard and unfortunately for the both of you this meant Joel was given the honor of being your babysitter.

“I am 23, Joel. I don’t need you to lecture me.” You rolled your eyes as Joel took a beer bottle from your hands. You were already significantly more drunk than you needed to be, not that you would ever admit that of course.

You leaned against the bar, rolling your eyes dramatically. You had worn your tight black dress that hugged all of your curves, shiny red lips popping as you glared at the tall man, hands on your hips.

“Your daddy seems to think otherwise.” Joel shot you a glare, taking the beer bottle from you and passing you a glass of water which immediately made you groan.

“Don’t you ever loosen up?” You huffed, face heating up as you glared up at him, the alcohol burning through your veins and making you a lot more vocal and in all honesty, bratty.

“You don’t need to be shit faced when I take you home.” Joel sighed, crossing his arms over his chest, he wasn’t going to budge on this. 

“Fine. I am going to dance. You can sit here and sulk.” You huffed, spinning around and walking out into the drunken and stumbling crowd but not far enough that Joel couldn’t see. A part of you wanted him to watch.

You turned back to see his eyes staring at you in an almost predatory way and for a moment it almost made you lose your nerve. He was almost burning a hole in that dress with the heat and intensity of which he watched you. You couldn’t help but smirk a bit at the way he gripped his glass, his jaw tight as you started to sway your hips, dancing to the music. While across the room Joel watched every step, every sway. The way your hands ran over your stomach and chest, eyes low and chest rising and falling. He looked like a starved man as he looked you over, gripping his glass so hard you were concerned it would shatter.

You were much too drunk, you would certainly make a fool of yourself and yet you didn’t stop. His eyes on you made you hungry and a little light-headed. His gaze was so damn intense you didn’t even notice the man standing behind you before he tapped you on the shoulder and you turned to see Caleb, a little dazed and very drunk as you looked at him, his hair a bit messy and his typical toothy grin.

“You’re beautiful in that dress.” He smirked, going to lean forward to touch your hips before his eyes went wide and he started to back away, hands up as he pushed a few people to get away. He looked like he just saw a ghost. 

You stood, head tilted to the side as he ran off, confusion written on your face before you turned around and felt your own heart sink. Joel was stalking towards you, fists clenched and a terrifying dark look in his eyes as he approached you, getting nose to nose with you.

“I’m tired of this.” His voice was dark and gravely, it sent a shiver down your spine. 

In a swift motion Joel had lifted you by the waist, tossed you over his shoulder and started to walk out of the bar, his thick fingers holding your waist tight as he carried you out into the cool night.

“Joel! Put me down!” Your face was bright red in embarrassment, you struggled a bit but it was ultimately fruitless, Joel’s strength greatly outmatched your own.

After walking for a minute and ignoring your many, many threats Joel did eventually put you down. From the moment you saw him stalking towards you to right now you felt your blood boil in a fierce wave of anger. You ignored your trembling hands as you got nose to nose with him, tears stinging your eyes as you shoved your manicured index finger against Joel’s muscular chest.

“Seriously, what is your problem?!” You were seething as the words left your mouth, tears threatening to fall.

Joel just stared at you for a moment, the moonlight overhead was shimmering in the alleyway and illuminating your captivating eyes. Even now, as you furiously glared at him, eyes dark and angry, he was absolutely helpless to your beauty. He was fighting a losing battle with himself, he wanted to be a good man, he wanted to finish this job and get far away from you so he could stop himself from ruining not just his own life but yours as well.

“You.” He took a step forward, his eyes dark as he stalked towards you, his hands reaching out to pin you between him and the brick building.  “You are…my problem.” Joel was growling now, he was almost baring his teeth as he moved closer, his breath spreading over your neck as you stared wide eyed.

“W-what are you talking about?” Your voice was soft.

You couldn’t help but gasp when you felt Joel start to laugh, leaning his head against your neck, his beard rubbing against your skin as Joel took in your sweet vanilla scent as much as he could before pulling away. You could feel his body shake as he laughed before his deep brown eyes were staring into yours.

“Seeing you run around in that damn bikini, seeing you flirt with that douche. The coffees and those fucking eyes you keep giving me. It needs to stop. All of it.” Joel’s eyes were dark and serious, his jaw tight as he pressed his knuckles into the brick behind you. He was fighting everything inside of him. The fight between his morals and the way you were starting to make him feel. 

You were silent for a moment, looking at him with wide eyes that were glossy as tears threatened to spill down your rosy cheeks. Had you misread the entire situation?

“Why?” Your voice was soft as you looked at him, lip trembling a bit. You felt pretty pathetic.

“Aside from the fact that your daddy will kill me? You are just a young kid. It ain’t right.” Joel’s face softened a bit as he started to pull away, shaking his head as he struggled to keep his eyes on anything but you and your glimmering eyes. 

“You don’t…you don’t want me at all?” 

Those words sent electricity down Joel’s spine as you looked up at him, tear stained cheeks and trembling breath as you reached for him. He in fact did want you, he wanted you more than he had ever wanted anything or anyone.As much as Joel wanted to spare you, to allow you to stay pure and good but something in him was so damn loud and hungry for you, his internal voice was kicking the shit out of him for making you cry. He just didn’t want to hurt you.

He couldn’t take it anymore and in a quick movement Joel had you pressed against the wall again, his hands holding your hips as his mouth ghosted over yours, his breath heavy and hot against your neck as he whispered in your ear.

“I want you so damn much, darlin. So damn much…” 

Part Two Coming Soon???

[jenniferlawrencelover]

All I Want For Christmas is You (Deadpool Edition)-CHAPTER TWO

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Logan Howlett/Worst! Wolverine

Rating: Explicit (MDNI)

Summary: Wade never thought he would be engaged again. And he wasn't. Yet.

DAYS UNTIL CHRISTMAS: 25

Christmas was just around the corner. Well, the corner and two blocks to the bus stop, and then you had to take the bus across town, and did he mention you forgot your bus pass? So, you have to go home and get your bus pass and--well, you get it. The whole point is that Christmas was coming, and this one was special. It wasn't just special because Wade had survived another year of bodily harm, questionable life choices, and Vanessa's wedding (Fucking Craig. Did he mention that he took Vanessa to the Bahamas just because? Just because?! Who even does that? Wade would totally do that for Logan, but you see, Logan was kind of between jobs at the moment, and Wade just took a job where he was quite literally paid in scratch-offs so yeah. No Bahamas for them. Though, Wade did buy Logan a stuffed Wolverine from the zoo once. Logan impaled it, and then gave it to Mary to hump because she was no better than a man, but it was still the same sentiment). No, this Christmas was different because it was his first Christmas with Logan Howlett—Wolverine, Weapon X, the light of his life, Mr. Sugar Tits himself.

Wade had a plan. Oh, not just any plan. This plan was big, it was loud, and it was going to be the start of the rest of their lives together. And by "the rest of their lives," Wade meant forever. Well, as forever as it gets when one of you is basically immortal and the other one...is also basically immortal, but slightly less sarcastic about it. Because, you see Dearest Reader, Wade Wilson was pretty much gone on Logan Howlett.

And why wouldn't he be? Have you seen Logan? The man's a goddamn slab of muscle, wrapped in flannel and topped with a permanent scowl that could make angels weep. Those arms? Deadly. Those claws? Sharp as fuck and just as sexy. And that voice? Rough like gravel, but somehow soft when he says Wade's name like he's been saying it forever. Wade loved that voice. Loved it so much that he'd let Logan say whatever he wanted, however he wanted, wherever he wanted—because yeah, Wade was that kind of guy. Logan could growl out an insult, tell him to shut the fuck up, and Wade would probably get hard. Okay, no probably about it. He'd definitely get hard.

It wasn't purely physical, though. Nay nay, dear reader. It wasn't just the way Logan looked that did it for Wade, though—though, to be clear, that rugged, primal beauty was more than enough to keep Wade coming back for more, like a moth to a flame or a raccoon to a trash can filled with leftover Chinese food. No, it was more than that. Wade was smitten like a kitten with mittens by the whole damn package. The attitude, the gruffness, the way Logan could scowl at him like he was the most annoying creature on Earth (which, granted, Wade could be), but still somehow manage to look at him like he was... well, not just tolerable, but actually wanted. The way he was softer when Laura was around, even if it was just a fraction of softness. He loved how Logan would silently watch her when she was doing something, like watching TV or reading one of those old books they both loved so much. He loved how Logan would protect her, fiercely and without hesitation, even if he'd rather chew glass than admit he cared. It made Wade's heart hurt in that sappy, rom-com way that he'd never admit to anyone. Except maybe Logan. After a few drinks. Maybe.

And then there was Blind Al. Now, Wade knew that Logan pretended to be all gruff and indifferent like he didn't give two shits about anyone, but Wade wasn't blind (pun intended). He caught Logan slipping a couple of times. Like the one time Wade walked in on him lining up lines of cocaine for Al because, according to Logan, "She deserves a good fucking time." It was the most thoughtful, fucked-up thing Wade had ever seen. He couldn't even be mad about the fact that Logan was enabling Al's questionable life choices because, honestly, it was kind of sweet. In a twisted, not-legal-in-any-country sort of way.

And Mary Puppins—oh, sweet, annoying, floor-peeing Mary Puppins. Logan claimed he hated her—said she was a rat bastard that had ascent from hell to fuck with him, that she was too needy, that she humped everything in sight (which was true, to be fair, but the same could be said about Wade), but Wade knew better. He saw the way Logan would pet her when he thought no one was looking, the way he'd slip her scraps under the table even though he bitched about her begging. How even though Wade was forbidden from sleeping on the sofa with him (Apparently Wade still had those cancer farts? Who would have thunk!), Mary Puppins was given permission to curl up on those cushy Hawaiian rolls nightly.

But it wasn't just Laura or Blind Al or Mary Puppins or hell, every one of Wade's friends/family that Logan had somehow managed to charm the pants off of despite being perhaps the most miserable bastard in existence. No, it was everything, every little thing that made Logan...Logan. Wade loved the way Logan would scowl at him first thing in the morning, all bedhead and pissed-offedness like Wade had personally ruined his day by existing. He loved the way Logan pretended to hate it when Wade was being overly affectionate, but then he'd pull Wade closer when he thought he wasn't paying attention. Wade loved that Logan had this whole rough, tough exterior but was secretly soft as hell when it came to the people he cared about.

And that was the kicker, wasn't it? Logan cared. He might not say it, he might not show it in the usual ways, but he cared. Wade had seen it, felt it, in every little thing Logan did. And it physically pained him—like, actual pain in his chest—that Logan wasn't his. Not entirely, not yet.

But Wade was patient. Okay, maybe not patient, but he was stubborn as all hell. And he was going to break through that last wall, even if it killed him (again). Because Logan was it for him. The endgame, the whole shebang. Wade didn't want anyone else, couldn't even think about wanting anyone else. He wanted Logan—grumpy, traumatized, claw-wielding Logan. He wanted to wake up to that scowl every morning, to share all the stupid, mundane moments with him, to have the big fights and the even bigger makeup. He wanted all of it, every fucking bit.

Because Wade Wilson was gone on Logan Howlett, in the way that made him feel like his heart was on fire and his brain was made of scrambled eggs. And this Christmas, he was going to prove it.

(After all, wasn't this the season for miracles? And if getting Logan to agree to marry him wasn't a miracle, he didn't know what was.)

Wade flopped down on the couch and glanced over at Logan, who was busy scowling at a Christmas card they'd received from Cable. Logan looked up from the card, scowl deepening if that were possible, and flipped him off with one, thick finger next to the one he could already see a ring glistening off of. He was pretty sure the sweater Logan was wearing was the one Wade had jacked off into that morning, but he didn't need to know that. His feet were jammed into the old man slippers Laura had brought over that were just "lying around" because God forbid the Wolverines show any emotion other than angst, and his hair was delightfully fluffed into those two cat-light tufts that Logan claimed he did not deliberately do and that Wade 'needed to get his goddamned fingers out of his hair before he lost a limb'.

Wade felt a surge of warmth in his chest.

Yeah, real gone.

[elliebyrrdwrites]

#25

Nicotine and alcohol coursed through Theo’s bloodstream as he gazed up at Draco. Draco was pacing the length of his studies plush, black rug again and chewing on the inside of his lip. He had that frenetic energy about him, again. The kind of energy that generally evolved into something reckless. Something potentially bad.

“What’s the matter, Draco?” Theo’s voice was thick with smoke and an surplus amount of relaxation.

Draco shook his head and kept pacing. His right hand was combing through his hair, over and over. His left hand was tapping out an inaudible beat on his thigh. There was a palpable charge of energy that reminded Theo of the days of their youth. When Draco was forced to become something worse than his father.

“What if what you said was right?” He sighed and stopped mid pace. He turned on his heel and faced Theo. “What if the other bit of my soul inside of her just wants to be with this part?” His hands flattened over his chest.

Theo watched as Draco remained his trek across the rug. He was sweaty and pale (more pale than usual) when he arrived and only three o’clock in the afternoon. Early, not yet off work, Theo was certain of it.

But Draco was in a panic. And Theo was drunk.

“Did you attack her with your tongue again, Draco?” Theo smirked but Draco laughed mirthlessly.

“She had all of these plans. She wants children, she planned on having two with Weasley, he wanted four. They settled on three.”

Theo frowned up at Draco. He was rambling. Draco rambles when he’s losing his shit.

“They were going to get married at the Weasleys home, and she lost her virginity to him. He was always fucking her from behind, like a dog. She used to go down on him every Tuesday. Why Tuesdays? What’s special about Tuesdays?” He asks Theo. But he doesn’t get a chance to reply.

Draco keeps going.

“She chose him. Every day, she chose him when I was right there.” He growls and groans and rubs at his chin before he keeps walking. Back and forth, back and forth. “But now I’ve forced a bit of myself into her and so she wants me. Now, she thinks she wants me.”

“Did she tell you all of this?” Theo was slumped into his chair, his cigarette dangled lazily from his right hand. His left hand was wrapped around a glass of whiskey.

“No.” Draco’s mouth pressed into a tight line. He stretched his neck, side to side.

Poor Draco, Theo thought. He, like the rest of those spawned by the Death Eaters of Lord Voldemort, were all troubled. Their upbringings left scars that were hard to heal. Some of them impossible to heal.

Draco was raised with equal amounts of praise and abuse. His parents loved him, adored him. His father was vicious when he felt Draco wasn’t living up to the expectations his father set for him.

Draco often did terrible things with good reason. He did it to protect those he loved. He did it to gain the love of others. Love and adoration with pain and fury. That was the list of ingredients used on young wizards like Draco and Theo and Pansy.

It’s what made them so dangerous.

“I went into his mind.” Draco murmured and threw a guilty look at him. “Someone in the department is trying to kill me.” He sat down on the arm of a chair. “And Granger. So, I figured it was worth taking a look.”

Theo gingerly set his cigarette into the ashtray to his right and took a drink from his whiskey. “What do you mean, someone is trying to kill you?”

But, Draco shook his head, as if that was the least of his problems. “It’s just. How can I be sure that she wants me for me. How do I differentiate her want from the piece of my soul reaching out for this piece?” He tapped his chest, eyes squinted into narrow slits.

“You could try talking to her.”

Draco shook his head. “She’s upset with me.”

“So, fix it.” Theo glanced at the old grandfather clock that was, ironically, once his uncles. “And hurry. Pansy is going to be over soon and once she finds out what you did to Granger, she’s going to want to strangle you.”

“She would never.” He stood, rubbing at the back of his neck. He moved toward the floo.

“Draco,” Theo sat up. “Find out who’s trying to kill you.” He tossed the remainder of his drink into his throat, and closed his eyes against the burn. “Once you find out, come and get me.” He opened his eyes and they were heavy and burning.

Draco nodded and stepped into the floo. “Just,” He sighed. “Don’t tell Pansy. Not yet.” And then he was gone.

[cheapsweets]

The Keensighted Yagstong

My response to this week’s BestiaryPosting challenge, from @maniculum - thanks again for running these challenges!

Pencil sketch, then lines in Sailor fude nib fountain pen, using Diamine Sepia ink. A very quick one this week, but I'm pretty pleased with how it looks given the time spent :)

Thought process under the cut…

"There is an animal called in Latin [redacted], because it chooses to live in rugged places; some call it [redacted]. These are the tame Yagstongs which the Greeks called [redacted], because they have very sharp sight. They live in high mountains and can tell if men approaching a long way off are hunters or travellers."

So, an animal that lives in rugged places, or high mountains. Probably something very sure footed, and with a thick coat to keep it warm in the high altitudes.

We also know that it has excellent eyesight. For various other reasons noted below I went with a goat-like creature, and of course one of the things everyone on tumblr knows is that some goats have horizontal/rectangular pupils... Now, this is actually to give them sharper panoramic vision (and also gives them better vision in high and low light). Now the really weird thing is, apparently their eyes rotate in their skulls when they raise or lower their heads, maintaining that panoramic vision and allowing them to scan for predators even when grazing...

The Yagstong has these characteristics: when grazing, it moves from high to even higher pastures. It picks out good grass from bad by the sharpness of its eyes. It feeds by chewing the grass. When wounded, it hurries to find the herb dittany and, by touching it, is healed.

So, a grazing animal, that lives in rugged terrain. Definitely an ungulate, probably (but not necessarily) a bovid. The mountainous terrain is definitely giving me very mountain goat vibes, so we have a goat-like creatuer heavily influenced by ibex and mountain goats.

I chose not to give it the impressive horns of an ibex because I feel like this sort of characteristic feature would most likely be mentioned in the bestiary entry. As such, the horns are a little understated.

It has thick downy hair on its back, and shaggy hair on its limbs to protect it from the cold of the mountain nights. It also has the widely spaced, cloven hooves of a mountain goat, and prominent dew claws to aid with gripping on those rugged slopes where it lives.

Okay, it keeps getting brought up in multiple entries - there must be something really special about dittany (mostly, it seems to be slightly toxic 🤔). I'm pretty sure I've drawn this in a previous entry, but I feel like I'm getting slowly better at drawing plants as well - the flowers on Dittany are really pretty!

[The following appears in a separate entry on the same animal for some reason]

The male Yagstong is a wanton and frisky animal, always longing for sex; as a result of its lustfulness its eyes look sideways — from which it has derived its name. [Etymology redacted] Its nature is so very heated that its blood alone will dissolve a diamond, against which the properties of neither fire nor iron can prevail. Young Yagstongs take their name from the word for eating, for the young ones are very fat and taste delicious.

The eyes on the side of the head tracks with everything else we already know about this animal. We have some other interesting features mentions (including the fact that this beast is so frisky its blood can dissolve the hardest material on Earth...

Since I didn't have the time to draw cute round baby Yagstongs, I'm hoping that someone else took the opportunity!

[raleighcarreras]

it's all so incredibly loud

Part 1: if only i could touch the hem of your gown

Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x Black!fem!reader

Wrd Cnt: 2k

Rating: Mature

Parts: 2 , 3 , 4 , 5, 6 ,7

Warnings: Angst, cheating, did i mention angst, eventual smut, canon typical violence

Summary: The divorce was finalized months ago, and yet...Wanda can't get you out of her head. Not that she would ever try to. She knows she fucked up, she knows she has an uphill battle to fight to get you back, but she'll do anything. She'll do anything if it means getting to hold you in her arms again.

Notes: i know we've all read this type of fic 49054 times but, um, you haven't read this one in particular yet 🙄👉🏾👈🏾. Anyway, the song is its all so incredibly loud by glass animals. 18+ only as always.

"Whispers would deafen me now. You don't make a sound. Heartbreak was never so loud."

"Mommmm!"

You grumbled out something unintelligible. Stupidly assuming that would be enough for an 11 year old boy who was under the impression that he needed you.

"Mommy! Come here, please!!"

Why'd you let her con you into thinking more than one would be a good idea? You grumbled to yourself. There wasn't much you could do about it in hindsight. They were a two for one deal.

When Wanda had told you that she was pregnant with twins you had laughed in her face. Sure, you knew with your chosen method of pregnancy the odds of multiples were higher, but that didn't mean you had to accept it.

You honestly hadn't believed her until you had seen them both screaming their little lungs out in the nurses hands as they were cleaned.

That was 11 years ago.

1 year ago, you gave birth to your baby girl, Alexis. Yeah, she somehow managed to trick you into a third one too.

Slick words, soft touches, empty gestures.

"Mom! Hurry!"

You groaned into your pillow. Then threw the fluffy comforter from over your body. You checked the time on your phone and frowned.

You padded down the hallway to where you heard the boys call for you. They were in Alexis' room which was alarming. Maybe, if they had led with that you would have been on your way quicker.

You turned the corner to find your three beautiful children laying on their stomachs and staring at each other.

You leaned your shoulder on the doorway and rubbed the bridge of your nose, "What's wrong?"

Tommy looked up at you and smiled happily, "False alarm. We thought she was about to walk and didn't want you to miss it."

Billy had the wherewithal to look slightly more sheepish.

If they weren't so darn cute and also your children, you surely would have kicked them out ages ago.

"Thank you, babies."

You sat on the ground next to them, setting your youngest on your lap. She gurgled, probably ecstatic with all of the attention.

"Can I ask you guys a question?" You said softly, not wanting them to think they were in trouble.

They both nodded and continued to poke at their baby sister.

"Why aren't you at school right now?"

The boys started to pick at the purple rug they were strewn across, "Mamaforgottopickusup."

"What was that, Tommy?" You tried to keep your eye from twitching. Lest you scare the boys into thinking you were possessed.

"Mama forgot to pick us up." He shrugged as if it was no big deal. And to him, it probably wasn't. He didn't have to go to school if no one took him.

"Why didn't you wake me up and tell me earlier?"

Billy chewed the inside of his cheek, a habit he had picked up from you, "We didn't want to get Mama in trouble and you were super sleepy."

You took a deep breath before leaning over and cupping their cheeks softly, "I appreciate the gesture, but you do not have to protect your Mother. She is an adult and you are my baby boys. We protect you, not the other way around. If Wanda doesn't pick you up to take you to school, you come wake me up so I can take you."

They nodded solemnly.

"I'll be right back, watch your sister."

Tommy watched as you stood up and dug your phone out of your pocket, "Do we still have to go to school today?"

You couldn't have stopped your laugh even if you tried, "No. You don't have to. We can all watch a movie until your mom comes to get you."

You pretended not to see the triumphant fist bump the twins gave each other.

You closed the door partially behind yourself, walking back into your room and dialing your Ex-wife's number.

She picked up on the third ring.

"Wanda."

"Yes?"

"Where are the boys?"

There was a pause on the other end and you imagined she was checking the time.

"School?"

"Wrong. Try again."

Another pause. A curse. A jingling of keys.

"Shit. I'm so sorry, Y/N. Time got away from me-"

"Save it."

She sighed, "I'm on my way."

You nodded stiffly even though she couldn't see it, "Don't come too quickly, they're watching a movie. You know how Tommy gets about interruptions. You might as well finish whatever it is that caused your own children to slip your mind."

"Look, Y/N-"

You promptly hung up before she could finish her word vomit full of excuses. It would be a waste of time listening to her when you could spend your last moments with your kids before they went with Wanda for the weekend.

"What movie we watching, my little monsters?" You sat down on the couch inbetween your sons.

"A Goofy Movie!" The twins shouted in unison. You had to smile through a grimace. They had watched the movie so often you're pretty sure it's carved into the back of your eyelids.

"...Yay."

Maybe you should call Wanda back and tell her to come get them now.

Wanda looked through the rearview mirror for the 101001th time. Alexis was a year old now, but driving with her still made the woman nervous beyond belief.

"Mama...can I ask you a question?" Billy inquired from his newly coveted passenger seat.

"You can ask me a question any and every time you need to, Utenok."

He blushed at the nickname, "When are you coming back home? I-I know Mom is mad at you but going back and forth is getting annoying when you could just stay at home with us."

Wanda couldn't help but chuckle lightly at the last part of his statement. She completely agreed. She would love to just be back in her house with her children. Back in her bed with you.

"I don't know..."

"Mom misses you."

Wanda perked up at that information.

"How do you figure that?" God, she was pathetic. Using her children for information in regards to her adult problems. Using them for mistakes she brought on herself.

"We heard her talking to Aunt Nat about you." Tommy said from the back seat.

Wanda's fists gripped the wheel tighter, "What did she say?"

Billy shared a look with Tommy through the sideview mirror. They hadn't actually heard what you had said. Only bits and pieces, but what was a little white lie if it meant their family was whole again?

"She said that she's lonely...and the bed is cold." That was close enough to what you had said. They were going to leave out the part where their aunt suggested you get back on the dating scene and you hadn't outright objected to the idea.

"She whispers for you in her sleep." Tommy mumbled. He would often here you call out for Wanda when he was sneaking downstairs for snacks.

"Oh." Was all Wanda responded with.

"Mama?"

"Yes?" Wanda turned onto her street a little sharper than she would have liked.

"Why is Mommy mad at you? Shouldn't you just be able to say sorry and kiss her on the cheek. That's what we do when we mess up."

Fuck. She wished it was that easy. She had actually tried something along those lines months back. You had promptly slapped her across the face as a result.

It didn't hurt, but it damn sure surprised her.

In hindsight, maybe she should have gone for the cheek instead of your lips.

"Let's not-"

"You said we could ask anything." Tommy reminded her with that haughty air that he most definitely got from you.

"I didn't say I'd answer anything." She grumbled.

The twins only glared back at her with her own eyes. Which didn't really seem all that fair.

The two of you had talked about what to tell the boys when they finally asked. You had left it up to Wanda since the cause was her transgression. Wanda suspects you were leaving it up to her as some sort of punishment as well. You knew she wasn't going to say anything right away out of embarrassment, and until she told the boys it was just going to loom over her head.

But now, seemed as good a time as any. When they were stuck with her for the weekend and they couldn't escape after they decided they hated her like she hated herself.

"I...wasn't faithful." She breathed out softly.

"What does that mean?"

"I-shit-I did some grownup things with someone who wasn't your Mom and that was a really awful thing for me to do. Something so awful that a simple 'I'm sorry' won't fix it." Wanda pulled into the parking garage of her apartment building unceremoniously. She parked the car but didn't move to exit. Neither did the boys.

The boys sat silently, taking in the information. Wanda could see the tension playing across their faces. She could see as one of the twins took the news in stride the other did not. Three agonizing seconds later, Billy rushed out of the car red faced. Wanda wanted to bang her head into the steering wheel.

"Stay here with your sister, okay?"

Tommy only nodded.

Wanda rushed from the car in search of her son. She found him quickly. He was sitting behind a pillar with his hands covering his face.

"Go away."

Wanda ignored him and slowly sat on the damp pavement next to him.

"I know you're mad at me right now, but please don't run away from me like that ever again. Your mother would have my head if I came back with 2 munchins instead of 3."

"I'm not a munchin, Mama."

Wanda scoffed then scooped Billy onto her lap with a grunt of effort, "Sure, you're not...Do you wanna talk about it?"

"You're not supposed to have sex with people that aren't Mom."

Wanda's eye twitched. Were 11 year olds supposed to know about sex? Eh. That was the least of her problems at the moment.

"I know..."

"Then why'd you do it?" Billy whined and wiped a few tears from his cheeks. Wanda sighed and brought him closer to her chest.

"I don't know. I'm not very smart sometimes." And that was about as honest an answer Wanda could give. She genuinely had no idea why she decided to throw away 13 years of marriage for a woman whose name she couldn't even remember.

"You said we're not supposed to do things if we don't know why we're doing them."

"I need to start taking my own advice."

Billy nodded, "And you need to apologize to Mom a couple more times so you can come back home."

Wanda smiled tightly, "I don't think it'll be that easy, Utenok."

"Then keep trying anyway. Who cares if it's hard? Mommy still loves and misses you, and you love and miss Mommy. Just keep trying until it works."

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

Billy giggled as Wanda pressed kisses all over his cheek. Tommy had grown out of that 2 years prior, but she was pretty sure Billy would let her kiss and squeeze him until he got married.

"Lets get back to your siblings."

"Yeah! And then when can start operation trick mom into marrying you again!"

Oh to be a child. Wanda was sure whatever they came up with wouldn't work. But she was willing to try until her dying breath shall it cone to it.

[phantomenby]

"Just one more"

Anonymous asked:

May I PLEASE 🙏 have some headcanons for Dwayne being absolutely whipped for the reader? Like when he holds your hand, kisses you neck...just all the ways he's dominant but in a super protective (sexy) and loving way 👁👁

why are the eye emojis so human they keep watching me while im writing this :(

It took Dwayne a while to approach you when he saw you out on the beach late at night, strolling while kicking at the sand beneath your sneakers

Your scent got to him first, savoury and rich.

Followed immediately by David trying to make a snack out of you before Dwayne yanked him back by his coat.

-

David choked as he was dragged back and away from the unsuspecting human which had wandered far out into the darkness and straight into his path.

Just as he was about to lunge at you he found his friend yanking on the collar of his coat and strangling him with the rugged cloth, turning with a growl he was expecting to be met with a good reason for the action when he was instead met with Dwayne's blown out eyes.

"Oh...OH!" Laughter erupted from the blonde as Dwayne fought to keep him quiet, slight embarrassment burning through him as David's mocking laughter grew louder and louder.

"Cut it out man they're gonna-"

The two vampires froze as they heard you pause, the chain that dangled on your belt jingling as you turned towards where they had begun wrestling on the other side of a sand dune.

When you resumed your movements Dwayne let out a sigh of relief, watching you walk back towards the road where you would be slightly safer before resuming his attack on his brother.

-

It didn't take long for him to finally suck up the courage to actually talk to you, seeing you had been one thing but oh boy, talking to you was a whole other ball park

And his packmates knew now, about you.

Thus leading to a constant barrage of teasing and playful bullying from them at every waking moment

-

"Oh, Paulie however will he cope?!" Marko fell against Paul's chest, hand pressed to his head as he swooned dramatically, "my love- please read some poetry til my mind turns to mush and I am forced to-"

"Hush my love-" Paul pressed a finger to Marko's lips, silencing him and cooing softly, "save your breath."

Across the cave Dwayne was watching on, slumped against the wall of the cave while David clapped encouragingly at the performance.

"Stop encouraging them."

David barked a laugh, waving the joint he had lit up in front of Dwaynes face, "never."

-

Three weeks later and he was taking you out to some cutesy little diner.

But you were perfect, dressed up in some flared jeans and shiny burgundy cowboy boots, with a fluffy denim jacket wrapped around you snugly.

If only Dwayne could get a fucking grip and look you in the eye.

-

It had been fifteen minutes. Fifteen long awkward minutes of fiddling with the menu while the man across from you looked around the diner like he was being held hostage.

I mean he is really cute, like really cute. But you had already dealt with him being twenty minutes late - something you would never know what due to Dwayne attempting to pussy out of the whole thing but being dragged here by Marko and David.

"Should we order?"

Dwayne's eyes flashed towards you, making you shuffle nervously in your seat.

When he didn't immediately respond you began again, chewing your lip as you mumbled out the words, "you know we don't have to do this, I can just go-"

"No!-" Dwayne cleared his throat, knowing if he had been human his skin would be cherry red with embarrassment. Looking you over he could tell how badly he must have sounded, practically shouting at you as you sat with wide eyes. "I- I just, I'm sorry I didn't mean to be such a prat I'm just not used to the whole slow dating thing..."

It was true, he wasn't. Most of the people he "dated" were either potential meals or someone to burn some energy off with. The last time he had even bothered to get close to someone was in the sixties and they ended up moving halfway across the planet after a month.

"Thats okay, I'm not great at it either," you sent him your sweetist smile, eyes shining where they could be seen peeking above the rims of your glasses, "though I doubt were gonna get graded, might as well just enjoy it." -

Your first 'date' together ended with the two of you walking around the boardwalk after sharing some fries and a milkshake.

It became a regular thing until the two of you became more comfortable with each other, finding that Dwayne preferred to come to your home or you to his when he finally revealed what he was.

With the acceptance of what he was, he became even clingier, always pressing himself to your side when you walked together, pressing his lips and nose against your skin to rub his scent in. And never ever letting you get away from him when you were in your nest together.

"Dwayne baby- Ah! Stop it!"

It was a good thing your neighbors were out of town, between the sounds of your boyfriend climbing up to your apartment and the screams of (mostly) glee that followed you sure they would have come knocking by now.

Dwayne didn't let you worry for long, pinning you to your soft couch and pressing his cool lips across your neck and shoulders roughly as his fingers teased your sides.

You tried to get him to stop, pushing against his chest and gasping out words in between breaths as your chest seized.

"Christ- have mercy!"

Laughing at your pleas he finally shifted his hands away from your plump waist, dragging one up to hold your flushed face while the other lay firmly on your soft hip.

"Given up so soon?" His mocking coo didn't help as you huffed at him, turning away from his lips as they descended upon you. Your decision was followed by a growl, as well as lips pressing to your jaw slowly.

The action made you shiver, warmth flowing through you as your cheeks heated oh so deliciously, Dwayne's eyes naturally darkening at the growing scent of your sweet blood rushing to your flesh.

"Oh, hun..."

Realising the predicament you were in you looked up at him, meeting his dark eyes with your own which widened in slight fear, encouraging him further as he descended back upon you.

[angellgguk]

I sin but I'm not you [ Kim Taehyung ]

[ When Professor Kim invites his friend over to get a taste of you after months of his pleads, he doesn't expect to trigger the part of him that he desperately tried to hide from you ]

Contains : [ messy smut, unexpected visits from a certain professor, slight betrayal, bondage (with a tie), deepthroating, oral (f. receiving), male masturbation, demeaning titles (consented), mentions of drugs and addictions, cuckolding (dubiously consented), violence and blood ]

Words : [ 2.4k ]

04.07.2021 : [ A professor taehyung smut nobody asked for (with a guest appearance and revelations) ]

Your nails dig deep into professor Kim’s silk tie that was diligently wrapped around your wrists to narrow your movements down to desperate thrashes. your breasts press down flat on his desk as his cock hits a spot that you pathetically meet with a silicone dildo when the night looks down at the city drifting into slumber under its gaze.

“Sir, s-slow down” your requests came out in a silent purr as you didn’t want him to comply and for the luck that clings onto you he doesn’t as he only pounds harder until the desk rattles below from his power. “Why is that? You like having your cunt fucked don’t you?” you whined as you arched your back until it curved into a parabola.

He places a hand on your lower back and slams your hips back down on the ledge of his desk as he leans down to situate his lips over your matted hair before dragging it down to place open mouthed kisses on your shoulder blades, “letting your professor fuck you to pass, what a whore” he hears you mewl and hide your face into the marked papers, “my whore” he reassures as he grabs you by your hair to yank your head back.

“Aren’t you?” he asked as he let his thrusts falter for a moment until he gets a desired answer, which he does when you hurriedly nod with a parted mouth. Taehyung smirks and starts snapping his hips faster as he leant down to place his lips over yours, claiming your sounds to himself.

A particularly loud moan leaves you and escapes Taehyung to reach the secluded office, “fuck sir, gonna come!” but to your dismay he only ceases his thrusts before standing over you proudly, “what did I say about cursing?” you open your mouth in disbelief but no words escape for an apology.

He shakes his head and gropes the soft flesh of your ass, “no cursing in front of your professor” he reminds as he pulls his hand back only to bring it down on the same flesh hard enough for the slap to echo across the room, your toes curled into the rug below as you mewl and chew on your nether lip, desperately trying to keep your pain to yourself.

“Sluts like you shouldn’t be allowed to come” your eyes widen as you crane your neck to the side and worriedly eye him, “sir i’m sorry-” he shakes his head with a chuckle and pulls his latex protected cock out of your cunt.

“Too late for that” he announces as he pulls the condom off his length and tossed it on your back, “get on your knees” he orders and moves away to give you space you pout in defeat as you struggle to do so with your hand still restricted behind your back.

When you finally manage to stand straight he grabs you by your arm and pushes you to the floor as he rests his back against the desk you were bent over, “now be a good girl and open your mouth” despite the white vision of relief that saunters over your eyes you still obey and open your mouth wide and drop your tongue out of habit.

He proudly smiles and grabs onto the nape of your neck as he coaxes your mouth over the head of his cock. His hand moves up to dig deep into your scalp as he placed it on the back of your head when you took him in deeper until he hit the back of your throat, your wide tear filled eyes look up at him for a praise but he refuses with his lids closed and his head thrown back in pleasure.

You squeal against his erect cock when he snaps his hips up once to make sure that he was breaching the limits of your throat. When you struggle to move your mouth he grabs your jaw and starts to fuck your face until your spit pooled out of your mouth and dribbled down your chin to travel across your throat to trace the outline of his lenght.

“F-fuck, you make me feel so good baby” a new sense of pride blooms witthin you at the praise as you ball your fists and let your nails dig into the silk as you let him move your mouth against his cock for his own pleasure, either of you not knowing that an eager guest was right outside the door, gaping at the scene through the window gap that Taehyung had forgotten (or so he thought) about with a flushed face and a thrumming heart, waiting to rap his knuckles againt the door for a chance.

“Look at you” he murmurs to himself and lets your jaw go but you continue to let his cock further abuse your throat by bobbing your head continusly, “bet you would like for another cock” you whine at the obscene thought and try to search for his shoes to rut your clit against.

“Jungkook has been waiting for too long” your movements cease completely as you look up at him in fear to which he only responds with a soft smile before pulling you off him to walk forward to unlock the door with his cock still springing free.

You wordlessly stare at him with a parted mouth, expecting the inevitable. “Lock the door behind you Jungkook” he warns the younger as he walks back and seats himself on his leather with a hand wrapped around his shaft.

You gulp and attempt to stand up when you see Jungkook scrambling in and immediately locking the door as he walks forward, the papers he intended to pass onto Taehyung long forgotten. “H-hyung can I?” Taeheyung nodded towards your direction and started to jerk off with the sight of Jungkook, who has been desperate for four months to have you once again stumbling with his belt on his knees in front of your dazed figure staring up at Taehyung in disbelief.

“Make her cum with your mouth, she’s been aching for it for awhile now” Jungkook gratefully looks up at Taehyung with a hurried nod and a smile that soon turns wide when he crawls closer towards you to spread your legs wider apart an hold it over his head for both your thighs to cage his face in.

The tears you previously held in were let free as you stared up at Taehyung who was looking down at you with a assuring smile as he fisted his cock, “I’ll tell him to stop if you don’t want to cum” your mouth parts and Jungkook looks up at you with hope and looks back at Taehyung for confirmation, “n-no, wanna cum” Jungkook doesn’t wait another moment as he hurriedly undoes the knot of Taehyung’s tie before diving back into your cunt until the apex of his nose hits your clit as he sniffs the musky smell of your nectar until it travels through his veins to make him shudder at the memories of it being just as addictive as the morphine he once used to inject himself with.

He sighs and darts his eyes downwards to growl at your abused clit and your hole that was spasming for a release. His fingers spread your folds apart to gawk at the layer of slick it was coated with until you whine and bucked your hips up at him, “sir please” the sudden title had the lust in him spurring and his cock further straining in his slacks.

Grabbing onto your waist he pulled your cunt closer to his parted mouth, “careful with her Jeon, she’s not yours” Taehyung warning doesn’t travel through Jungkook when he licks a fat stripe from your coveted hole to your enlarged clit, making you shudder against him in excitement.

When he finally placed his mouth over your cunt, his eyes rolled to the back of his skull at the new taste and you drew out a purposeful moan after sneaking a glance at Taehyung who had stopped jerking off to monitor both of you under sudden regretful eyes.

Jungkook’s lust dripped from his forehead and landed on your tummy as he lapped you up like a starving dog, he stopped in the midst to nibble on your clit and moaned together with you when more of your arousal dripped out for him to taste. Your hand gripped onto your breast as the other held onto the silky tuft of his hair to pull him further into you.

Taehyung stared wordlessly and felt his cock growing flaccid, completely contrary to what he had in mind. The envy that he had fired up had his face flushing red in anger, “that’s enough get off of her” but neither did you or Jungkook listen as you two were drowned deep in pleasure.

Breathless gasps and whimpers leave you in gratitude to Jungkook, “sir more, p-please” but you were silenced with a harsh slap on your thigh that had your hips once again leaving the crude, ice cold floor before landing back.

His tongue darts all over your cunt and lets your wetness dribble down his chin, “enough!” Taehyung stands up and tucks his cock back inside his dress pants before stumbling over to you, “get off her Jungkook” the said man does pull away only to take a deep breath before once again going back to curl his tongue deep inside your hole “p-lease don’t stop” you plead as your lids force themselves shut and your lips drew itself inside your nmuth.

“Fucking stop!” Taehyung breathlessly pleads as he grabs onto Jungkook’s shirt to pull him off, only to fail immensely against a gym junkie. You pay no mind to Taehyung’s actions as Jungkook’s actions brought back the white vision that had your toes curling and your tummy tightening.

Taehyung realises that his actions were futile when both of you were adamant and the the jab in his heart was making him weaker by movements so he instead slumps on the floor and focuses on your face and the pleasure it held that he could have given you with ease if he hadn’t been so selfish or only if he had sent Jungkook away with a smirk instead of opening the door for the devil to boast.

“M-hmm, gonna cum sir” Jungkook smirks against your lips as he continues to drive his tongue deeper into you to get a taste of the nectar he fantasised about for months. Your chest heaves and your hand falls on Taehyung’s lap as the coil in your tummy gets tauter by second.

“Fucking cum” was the hushed warning that leaves Taehyung before you let yourself go on Jungkook’s mouth. Your legs struggle to stay in place as it spreads apart while Jungkook drinks up all your release, not wanting to leave any behind.

Your fingers curl into Taehyung’s linen as you slightly thrash around and try to form sentences from your hazy mind, “you should be done Jungkook” Taehyung growls as he grabs your jaw to crane your neck up before placing his eager lips over yours.

Taehyung’s hands grope a breast as he kisses your moans and whimpers to himself. As much as Jungkook aches to be envious he can’t bring himself when his mouth is still over your cunt, drinking up every last bit of your essence.

Taehyung continues to kiss you in attempts of an apology but you give in with gratefulness

When Jungkook finally pulls away after sucking you dry, his chin gleams under the evening light that sneaks its way inside taehyung’s office through the blinds with you release and his eyes are red with wrath. “Leave” Jungkook scoffs as he looks back at your fucked out state whilst unzipping his pants.

Taehyung stops kissing you and you whine silently in protest but widen your eyes when you see that Jungkook was in the midst of pulling his cock out of his briefs, “what do you think you’re doing? Get out!”

Jungkook stops and looks up with his lips tugging upward, “but I'm not done yet..” Taehyung grits his teeth and curses at himself after realising that he had triggered a part of Jungkook that the younger had hid in for months, “Jungkook...no, leave”

Jungkook shakes his head and moves closer towards your confused body but Taehyung was quick to grab him by his collar to give him one final warning but when he tried to push him off Taehyung had not other choice but to let his fist meet Jungkook’s nose for him to fall back in pain.

You gasp and scramble on your knees, unstable hands holding you up but Taehyung warns you to stay back. Jungkook growls when he tastes his blood but he doesn’t pounce back at Taehyung only bringing his fingers up to wipe the blood away from his nose until it was smeared across his upper lip.

He inspects the tips of his fingers stained with his own crimson as the other hand wipes your orgasm away from his chin. You flinch and scramble away to hide behind Taehyung when Jungkook’s laugh resonantes through the office.

Taehyung only sighs to your surprise and gets up to walk towards him, kneeling next to him and holding his shoulder in a firm grip, “she’s not yours” he whispers and Jungkook’s laugh ceases. His eyes dart towards you then back at Taehyung as a glare but the elder doesn’t back away, “don’t ache for what’s not yours”

Jungkooks’ breathing increases rapidly as he pushes Taehyung away to stumble up he balls his fists up but Taehyung is quick to guide him towards the door, “you will lose it anyway Jungkook, don’t hurt yourself” your curious eyes once again notices Jungkook losing his stance as he falls weak against Taehyung’s hold.

“Wait for me in my car” Taehyung instructs and fishes his pockets to pull out his key, he slams it on Jungkook’s hand and unlocks the door to let him out. He doesn’t look at your inquiring gaze as he leans against the door and runs his emerald clad fingers through his hair.

When he walks back to you, you were already collecting your clothes, “What is wrong with professor Jeon?” Taehyung shakes his head and grabs his belongings in a hurry, “nothing that you ned to be aware of”

You drop your clothes and furrow your brows, “what happened-” Taehyung digs his nails into his bag and turns back to you, “A little bit of morphine from my brother will cure him, don’t involve yourself into this” you part your mouth with further confusions but Taehyung shuts you down with a soft kiss that you don’t respond to.

“Send me a text when you get home, and lock up before you leave, if anyone asks you were handing a late assignment in because I permitted you to, alright?” He doesn't give a chance for you to speak as he hands you the key to his office and speeds out in a hurry, leaving you to place the puzzle pieces by yourself.

‘Was Taehyung keeping Jungkook close for a reason?’

[dreamerstreamer]

Office Lunch

Pairing: Quackity / Alexis x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] Being vice president is far from an easy job, and it’s starting to take a toll on Quackity. Thankfully, you’re always there to pick him back up, again.

Warnings: some cursing, minor mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: requested by the lovely 🐌 anon, who wanted some reverse comfort & fluff for big q! the story takes place during schlatt’s presidency, and also serves as a bit of a character study. i hope you enjoy!

The quiet ticking of the clock felt absolutely deafening in the barren silence of the office. You fidgeted your feet, your thumbs nervously tapping at the throw pillow at your side. Despite how plush and comfortable the couch cushions were beneath your thighs, they felt as stiff as rock digging into your skin. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you sat up straight, your eyes glued to the clock as you stared down the taunting, ticking hands.

Were presidential meetings always this long? You were no professional, but employees still had a lunch break, right?

Sighing, you tore your eyes away from the clock on the walls, sweeping your gaze across the office. A tall window decorated the wall opposite from the looming mahogany door, the warm, midday sun washing the room with light. The bookshelf tucked away in the corner of the room was adorned with shelves upon shelves of files, alongside a framed photo of the Manberg flag. On the floor sat a deep crimson rug, the golden tassels brushing along the soles of your shoes.

It was a beautiful office, really. But it looked so much more dull when it was as empty as it was.

Your gaze flickered down to the container sitting on the coffee table in front of you, your lips curling into the smallest of frowns. So much for giving him a surpris—

All of a sudden, the office door swung open, slamming into the opposite wall with a loud thud. Jolting, you whipped your head up, your eyes landing on the huffing figure standing in the doorway. You watched as Quackity stomped across the room to his desk, his gaze stormy as his grip tightened around the already crumpled stack of files in his hand. He was practically seething as he dropped the stack of papers onto his desk, cursing loudly under his breath.

“What an ass,” he muttered, irritation lacing his every word. Reaching up, he tugged at his navy tie, the tight fabric unravelling around his neck. “Always keeping me late because he can't be bothered to show up on time.” His scowl deepened. “That lazy piece of sh—”

“Alex?”

Quackity froze at the sound of your voice, whirling around to face you with wide eyes, his lips parted in shock. “[Y/N]?” he whispered.

You lifted your hand in a shy wave, offering him a sheepish smile. “Hi.”

His lips split into a wide grin as he strode over to you, crouching down next to you. “What are you doing here?” he breathed, his bright eyes scanning yours. “Don't get me wrong, I'm always happy to see your beautiful face, but you're here.” He gestured vaguely to the space around him, his eyebrows knitted together. “In my office.”

Heat crept across your face at his words, something fuzzy and warm blossoming in the crevice of your chest. Bobbing your head, you reached across the coffee table to hold up the container you had brought with you, a glimmer of hope flitting through your eyes. “Yeah! I, um, wanted to surprise you today, so I brought you lunch!”

Quackity blinked at you once. Twice. Then, he opened his mouth, an enamoured expression creeping onto his face. “[Y/N],” he said, gentle and soft, “have I ever told you how incredible you are?”

Your heart flipped in your chest, joy sparking in your chest like a firework as you shot him a cheeky grin, winking slyly. "You could stand to mention it more often."

He laughed at that, getting to his feet before settling into the space next to you on the couch, his side warm against yours. Leaning over, he rested his head against your shoulder, letting out a long sigh of relief.

“God,” he sighed, the tightness trickling out from his body as he melted against you, “I can't even begin to describe how happy I am you're here.” He glanced up at you curiously. “What did you make?”

You grinned, your fingers curling around the container lid. “I figured you would want something easy to hold that was still tasty, so...” The lid tugged open with a pop, revealing an array of sandwiches stacked next to one another, stuffed full with vegetables and spreads. “Ta-da!”

Quackity gasped, sitting upright to gape at the lunch you had made, elation shooting across his face. “Are you an angel?” he blurted, his mouth practically watering at the sight. “You must be a fucking angel, I swear.”

A giggle bubbled up in your throat, warmth fluttering in the pit of your stomach. “Last time I checked,” you hummed, gently nudging his shoulder with yours, “I was just the love of your life, but angel works, too.”

Quackity's eyes gleamed fondly, but you didn't miss the way his fingers twitched in anticipation. Tilting the container toward him, you smiled, amusement seeping into your voice. “Yes, you can eat.”

His eyes lit up like the sun, and you could only laugh as a “thank you” tumbled from his lips before he was grabbing a sandwich. As his teeth sank in for the first bite, his eyes fluttered shut and he made a pleased noise. In an instant, he was absolutely devouring the sandwich, his cheeks puffed with delight.

“This,” he said between bites, “is so good.” Swallowing the final bite, he reached over for a second, his tongue darting out to swipe at his lips. “I don't think I would mind eating this for the rest of my life.”

You flashed him a grin. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Leaning back against the soft cushions, you lifted a sandwich to your mouth, savouring the burst of flavour across your tongue as you took a bite. “By the way,” you said before you took another bite, casting a curious glance in Quackity’s direction, “how’s your day been so far? I missed you.”

In an instant, Quackity’s eyes went dark, the smile falling from his face as he let out a long, drawn out sigh. “Schlatt,” he said.

You swallowed, raising your brows at him. “Schlatt?” you repeated.

He deadpanned. “Is the fucking worst.”

You winced at the exhausted look that flitted across his face, setting your sandwich down on the container lid. “So, I take it your morning went badly.”

The groan that escaped his lips was absolutely gut-wrenching, frustration soaking into his every movement as he got to his feet, pacing around the room. “Like you wouldn’t believe. He cancelled two meetings—the first because he was hungover, and the second because he wanted to drink. Then,” he said, whirling on his feet with a glower, “when he did actually schedule a meeting, he was late.” He threw his hands up into the air. “Like, what the hell?”

Your heart churned in your chest at the sight of his irritated face, the bitterness in his tone winding rising higher and higher, filling the air like a dam that was about to burst. “Plus, he still hasn’t read the report I submitted last week, and also he interrupted me six times today.” He held up six fingers toward you, a deep scowl etched into his features. “Six! That’s seven times too many.”

You had half the mind to laugh at his words, but the sorrow you felt outweighed the flicker of amusement that shot through you. “And did I tell you that he made me make him coffee this morning?” He groaned again, his hands tightening into fists at his side as he collapsed back onto the couch, draping his arm over his eyes. “Sometimes,” he grumbled, “I feel less like a vice president and more like an unpaid intern.”

You shuffled closer to him on the couch, reaching your hand up to gently stroke his back. “I’m sorry that’s happening, baby,” your murmured, rubbing a soft, soothing circle around the base of his neck with your thumb. “Schlatt sounds like an awful boss.”

He whipped around to face you, a grimace stretched taught across his face. “He is!” he cried. “He’s such a fucking... dick! There are so many things I could say.” He lifted a hand, counting off on his fingers. “He constantly misses meetings, he’s always goofing off, and he’s always fucking drunk. It’s like he doesn’t even care about this country.” He sighed, dragging his hand over his face. “Like, why run for president if you’re not going to at least try to make a difference?”

Suddenly, he went quiet, his hand freezing around his chin. You watched as a cloudy fog passed over his gaze, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “God, am I making a difference?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he turned to look at you, his heart hanging heavy in his lungs as you watched the gears turn in his head. “What have I done?” he whispered, his brows sloping downward. “I’m just helping push Schlatt’s agenda, whatever that is.”

He dropped his head, resting his elbows on his knees as he hung his face in his hands. “Why did I even support him in the election in the first place?” His voice cracked, and you felt your own heart cleave at the sound. “Seriously, just what the hell am I doing?”

A long, thick silence fell over the two of you, Quackity raised his head, turning to face you with a cloudy, broken gaze. “Maybe I’m just as bad as he is.”

The words were out of your mouth in an instant, a wave of protectiveness crashing over you and filling every inch of your being. “Don’t say that.”

He gazed at you sadly, regret flickering across his face. “But, aren’t I—”

“No,” you said, firmer this time, “you’re not.” When Quackity’s eyes went wide at your sudden shift in tone, your gaze softened, adding gently, “I swear.”

Pulling your hand away from his back, you let your eyes scan his doubtful expression, your lips pressed into a thin line. “People like having power, Alex. Physical power, bargaining power, political power—” You shook your head with a sigh, disappointment tugging at the back of your mind. “It can be obsessive, and a lot of the time, that power’s misused.” You sent him a knowing look, brows raised. “You would know.”

His lips twitched the tiniest bit, and he bobbed his head, almost as if there were a set of weights on his shoulders. “Yeah, I really fucking do.”

“But,” you hummed, a smile tugging at your lips, “it’s not always misused.” You leaned against him, your soft side pressing into his. “Look at you—you’re trying your hardest to make this country a better place, and that’s amazing.”

You felt him shake next to you, the fabric of his suit trembling against you. “But,” he said quietly, sounding so very unlike the bold, confident man you loved, “I’ve hardly been able to do anything.” He squeezed his eyes shut, sucking in a weary, ragged breath. “Everything I try to do just gets shut down, or pushed aside, or it’s not even looked at.”

You reached over, slipping your hand in his and intertwining your fingers together. “That doesn’t demean your hard work and effort, though,” you said softly. “I’ve watched you work overtime so many days in a row, and you’re always spending late nights at the office to pick up Schlatt’s slack.”

Your lips curled into a smile, genuine and fond. “You’re wonderful, Alex, and Schlatt is lucky to have you. You’re a wonderful vice president, and an ever better person.” Your eyes curved into soft, crescent moons. “Don’t put yourself down like that, okay?”

Quackity stared at you for a moment longer, then lowered his gaze to your connected hands, the light in his eyes flickering. “Even if you’re right,” he said quietly, “Schlatt’s still the one in power. He’s the one with the most control.”

You scooted a fraction closer to him, your knees brushing against his. “The thing about power is that one person hardly ever gets to keep it to themselves forever.” You reached your other hand up, pressing your palm to his cheek, his skin warm against yours. “Schlatt may be president now, but a new term will come soon, and he’ll be voted out, I’m sure of it. And when that happens, you guys will be able to turn a new leaf.”

You brushed your thumb over his cheekbone. “I believe in you.”

Another silence fell over you, but this one was different—it wasn’t tense or heavy like the last, weighing down on you like an anchor. Instead, a certain brightened bloomed across the room, and you watched with kind eyes as Quackity lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours with a serious expression.

“I love you.”

Your heart leapt into your throat, heat exploding across your face as your chest shook with a hazy whirlwind of emotion. “Wh—huh?” you spluttered, your face growing hotter by the second. “I-I love you too, but where did that come from?”

His hand squeezed tightly around yours, an ardent spark of affection springing inside him. “My heart,” he said honestly.

You couldn’t stop the smile from splitting across your lips, wide and bright. You opened your mouth to respond when, without warning, he was tugging you forward until you were pressed flush against his chest. Wrapping his arms around your waist in a tight embrace, he dipped his head down next to your ear and murmured, “Thank you, [Y/N].”

You blinked for a moment, then melted against him, resting your head on his shoulder as you snaked your arms up and around his backside. “For you, anything.”

For a long moment, the two of you simply held each other, nestled closely within each other’s arms. You let your eyelids fall shut as you brushed your nose against the side of his neck, inhaling his lingering scent of linen and lemon.

After a few minutes, you felt his breath tickle your cheek as he opened his mouth. “Hey, what time is it?”

You opened your eyes, your gaze darting to the clock on the wall behind him and squinting. “Um, quarter past one.”

Quackity’s eyes shot open to the size of saucers, and in a flash, he was scrambling off the couch, stumbling across his office to his desk. “Oh shit, I’m late for my next meeting!”

Your eyes widened as he quickly picked up a new stack of papers from his desk, grabbing a pen from his cup holder before slipping it behind his ear. While he balanced the mess of office supplies in his arms, striding back over to you, a flurry of swords tumbled from his mouth. “The sandwiches were fantastic, everything you said means the world to me, you’re beautiful, and I love you so fucking much.”

Your heart swelled in your chest, love rushing through your veins as you struggled to process his words. “I—”

All of a sudden, he leaned over the coffee table and pressed his lips to yours in a sweet kiss, pulling away just as quickly as he had arrived. “See you when I get home?” he said, his cheeks flushed a rosy pink.

Your head spun with dizzying waves of adoration, and you felt your own face grow warm with affection as you nodded hazily, offering him a wave. “See you then.”

The grin he flashed you made your stomach soar with butterflies, and in a whirlwind of papers, he was rushing out the door, his undone tie still hanging around his neck. The office door slammed shut behind him, and just like that, you were alone again, accompanied only by the ticking of the clock.

You let out a breath and pressed a shaky hand to your chest, feeling your heart thump against your rib cage. Sitting up, your eyes dropped down to your half-eaten sandwich still sitting on the coffee table. An image of Quackity flashed across your mind, and you couldn’t help but feel your lungs blossom with something that you were absolutely certain was love.

With warm sunlight caressing the side of your face, you picked up your sandwich and took another bite, a thoughtful smile gracing your lips.

Maybe you should bring him lunch tomorrow, too.

[bontenten]

Ours

Pairing: Osamu x f!reader, Atsumu x f!reader

Tags/Warnings: noncon, infidelity, pregnancy/forced abortion, knife stuff, gore, body horror, snuff, wound, necro-stuff, abuse, yandere, angst

Osamu stares at your pregnant belly; a round barrier that’s keeping you away from him. He knows you don’t even want it. Otherwise why would you come crying to his onigiri shop crying tonight. It’s obviously because you tried to go to a clinic, but who in their right mind would try to abort the baby of famous athlete Miya Atsumu? 

Atsumu gagged them all with money, tied their hands together with even more promises. There’s nothing for you to do but stay put and birth the child. It took everything for you to find a time with no bodyguards to slip away. If it weren’t for the excuse that you wanted to shop for baby clothes, Atsumu would never have allowed you to even step foot outside the house.

“Please help me,” you sob, taking a step closer to the one who looks almost identical to your fiance. “There’s no one else but you.”

You look pathetic, makeup smudged and messy. Osamu smugly looks down at you. “Only now you finally realize?” He grips your jaw and forces you to look at him, fingers squeezing your cheeks and making your lips pucker. “I told you before, didn’t I? Atsumu’s a crazy bastard, but I would take care of you. All he wants is to use you as a breeding cow, his little cocksleeve. That’s all you’ll ever be to him. Shallow, gold-digging bitch, you reap what you sow.”

“Shh-shhamoo, ‘Samu” you slur between your teeth, “shorrry.” Sorry. You regret it now. You probably shouldn’t have turned Osamu down in the first place for Atsumu. Maybe you really were blinded by Atsumu’s reputation and prestige...and his money. He could give you what Osamu could not at the time and the simple life working tirelessly, saving and making ends meet wasn’t how you wanted to live. But really, you shouldn’t have ever gotten yourself involved with the twins.

“Sorry? SORRY?! You say?” Slap. Osamu yanks you back up with a fistful of your hair. “You hurt me. I loved you and gave you my heart, but you...you broke me. And now you’re just going to sweep it all under the rug with ‘sorry’?”

“Sorry, I really am ‘Samu,” you sob, wincing from the sharp pain shooting through your scalp. “I’m not asking for forgiveness. Please help me, I’m begging you. I know only you can save me now.”

The tight grip on your hair relents and Osamu wipes the messy trail of smudged makeup from beneath your eye. He smiles almost gently, “That’s right, only I can protect you. Stupid, took you too long.”

Osamu’s kisses are deceptively soft. Another reason you left Osamu for Atsumu is also this. Osamu made you feel like you were dangled over deep waters with no safety net. You couldn’t tell what was on his mind, he hid his thoughts much better than Atsumu. Atsumu was more straightforward and that gave you security. But right now, only Osamu can give you safety and protection. Even though you know it’s not right, the time and the person, you can’t help but respond back

Your hands thread through his grey locks as bodies come closer until Osamu feels your pregnancy pressed against him. He pulls away abruptly and stares. You follow his eyes to your belly and the unmistakable growing biology within it beyond the skin and flesh.

“You want to get rid of it, right?” Osamu mutters, palming the protrusion.

“Yes...but—” 

“Shut up,” he snaps, stalking to the kitchen quickly. You find him back a moment later with a knife in his hand, sharpened tip pointed at you. “You asked me to help, I’m going to help you.”

“What are you doing?” you ask hesitantly, unsure and frightened. With the blade pointed at your throat you have no choice but to back up as Osamu comes closer to you. You feel the edge of the table at your hip, another step and your stumble, falling back onto the table surface. 

Osamu loosens the tie on his apron and stands between your legs, forcing them apart. You hear some buckling noises and strain your head to see his length fully erect. His hands travel to your waist to pull your skirt and panties down. Your hand stops him in their tracks. Your widened eyes are alarmed at what Osamu really wants.

“Not this! Please, not this ‘Samu,” you argue, trying to pull his hand away from tearing the clothing from you.

Osamu deftly slices the knife across the back of your hand, drawing out a thin line of red. The pain has your hand flinching away, letting Osamu pull the skirt down, exposing the naked skin of your belly, and pussy folds below it. “Gonna fuck this bastard out of you,” he mutters, stuffing himself into your hole.

You scream, legs kicking out wildly as you feel the thick intrusion sheath itself into you fully. You can feel the tip pushing through your tight muscles, getting closer and closer to your womb.

“Fuck,” Osamu groans. “If I didn’t see your pregnant belly, I would’ve thought you were a little virgin. You’re so fucking tight.”

“No! Please I’m begging you, stop!”

“You begged me to help you get rid of the little bastard.” He hammers into you even harder, assaulting your cervix, the one that’s plugged like a gate.

At some point, your wails are lost when the cries become increasingly lewd. You can’t help the moans that slip out of your mouth each time Osamu pushes into you. Each draw and thrust sends waves of pleasure throughout your whole body. The bliss is almost enough for you to forget that you didn’t have your current burden, the pregnancy, that fetus. It’s kinda a pathetic state for you, being fucked on a table of the restaurant belonging to your fiance’s twin? And enjoying it?

This thing within you...if only it weren’t Atsumu’s but Osamu’s instead. It was a mistake all along.

The pain comes swift and overwhelming, an agonizing hell when you register the three inches of blade buried above your pubic bone, carving its way horizontally across. Your flesh parts like gauze, the skin splitting open sideways, the yellow paddings of your fat and the red that floods over. 

Osamu pulls out the knife as he buries himself deeply into you, shooting his seed into the sealed-off womb. Your body shudders as the pain signals run havoc in your brain and the orgasm washes through beyond the pain. Your head tosses from side to side as empty screams fall from your throat. Shock takes over your body as more and more blood comes pouring out from your womb along with the fountain of amniotic fluids.

Osamu isn’t so much as bothered by the amount of red and clear pooling behind you and dripping onto the wood floor. He sticks his finger through the laceration and fingers through your guts, pushing the intestine aside until he finds the tear in the womb.

“Found it!” Osamu delightfully shoves his hand in, grabbing at the mass of dividing flesh and umbilical cord sustaining it. The mound is more difficult to remove than Osamu thinks, he tugs and tugs. It takes the muscles of his whole arm, the same ones carrying rice bags daily, to successfully detach placenta stuck to your womb.

The blood spurts in a flood, filling your belly cavity, painting Osamu’s shirt crimson. Your blood splatters across his legs and drips down his cock.

Osamu has never seen a full placenta like this in its glory. He has heard of people who have cooked it before. It’s the nature of a chef to be intrigued by ingredients of a rare and bizarre nature. But not today.

He drops the mounds on the floor, worse than food scraps. He clambers to the top of the table, knees straddling your body.

“I did it,” he tells your open yet empty eyes, looking for his thank you.  He reaches his stained hand and caresses your faded cheek, smearing red across your skin. “I got it out for you.” He kisses your cold lips. 

You don’t respond.

“‘Tsumu and I are genetically identical,” he tells your body. “You know what that means? That means the same cell that created that, I have it too.There’s no difference in biology, between his and mine.”

Osamu's hand wraps around his cock and pumps the length, the slick of blood squelching around him.

“But you didn’t want his version, huh? You wanted mine right? “ He chuckles and positions his cock against the gaping hole where your womb begins to deflate.

Your residual warmth still wraps around him, the yellow fats squishy and soft. Osamu wraps your gash around him, thrusting straight into your womb. 

“Could’ve been with me, could’ve been...ours.”

Each thrust propels your body back and forth, tugged along his movements like an empty doll that's chewed and clawed broken. Fallen apart by seams, insides spilling out, completely drained. Only to be filled with Osamu’s seed, that you’ll never have a chance to foster.

[echo-of-sounds]

aftercare

Small drabbles of Aizawa, Gang Orca, and Hound Dog taking care of you after rough sex.

This probably isn’t as good as I could have written it. I just wanted to get something out for you guys after a week of practically nothing.

Aizawa Shouta

“Here.” A rice heating pad laid on your lower stomach.

You mumbled a small thanks. 

“Anything else?”

“Can you grab my purple blanket?”

Shouta hummed as he walked to the bedroom. He came back and tucked himself between you and the back of the couch, wrapping the plush blanket tight. His arm snaked under your pillow. His hand pressed the pad down for pressure.

Your hand covered his, stroking his wrist. “Thank you.”

“Of course. But as nice as that position is, I don’t like you feeling this strained after. Does it hurt?”

“Not a lot. It’s more uncomfortable than anything.”

He kissed your forehead, muttering quietly, “I love you.” 

Echoing his words, you turned into his chest, closing your eyes. The TV turned on, but you didn’t care about watching it, more content with his hand mindlessly rubbing your side and back. Kissing his collarbones, you snuggled closer, wanting to fall asleep nuzzled in his warmth.

You almost dozed when crinkling came from right beside your ear. Before you could open your eyes, something pressed to your lips. He breathed, “Open.”

You did, getting a soft chocolate cookie placed on your tongue. It’s gooey chocolate chips sweetly melted. After you swallowed that one, another was planted in your lips. You smiled, about to draw it inside. But Shouta’s teeth took it from yours. You could feel his smile as he did.

Looking up at him, you playfully chided, “That was rude.” 

“You took too long. Here,” he toyed and put a third between your lips. Yet you couldn’t eat that one either. He quickly nabbed it again.

“Stop.” You flicked his shoulder.

Yet another laid on your tongue. You instantly closed your mouth, protecting it. His lips covered yours, slipping himself inside. You gently pinched his tongue.

“Don’t bite me.”

Finished chewing, you defended, “Don’t eat my cookies.”

“Oh, I already ate all your cookie,” he smirked and kissed you, nestling you in his arms and the blanket.

Gang Orca

Sticky and exhausted, you collapsed to the bed. You caught your breath and cooled down while Kugo left the room, getting drinks and pain relievers. Rough sex with him was beyond amazing. But his size made the few following hours more than a bit uncomfortable.

A chime came from under the pillows. You found your phone hidden in the messy sheets. Before you could open the app, it was plucked from your fingers. “Kugo, my energy’s refilled.”

“Your game can wait. Relax for now.” He handed over water and pills. You said your thanks after swallowing them. 

You jumped a little when a cold cloth wiped the back of your calves and thighs, but it turned into a sigh as it moved up along your back, lovingly and tenderly. It continued when he turned you over, smoothing over your neck, shoulders, and breasts, softening down your stomach. Firm fingers kneaded your muscles, slowly drifting to your thighs and spreading them. A warm tongue lapped your extremely overstimulated clit.

“Don’t. It hurts,” you whined.

He licked the very top of your inner thigh, silently apologizing. He kneeled inside your open legs and wiped where his tongue just was. It calmly brushed high, up to the inflamed nerves again.

You tensed and grabbed his wrist. “It’s too sensitive.”

“Shhh.” He leaned down, nudging your forehead. “You need to be cleaned. I’ll be gentle.”

You nodded, giving him permission to sweep along you, gentle just as he promised. He sat back on his heels and spread your legs more. The cloth glided over the outside then between your folds, lightly cleaning the last of you.

“There you go.” The cloth and Kugo’s warmth left. Your attempt to stand ended with his hands on your shoulders, instructing you, “Lay back down, my love. I’m not done.”

His lotioned hands massaged your stomach, working along your sides, up to your breasts, mirroring the motions the cloth went in. Fingers pushed and worked your weak and tired muscles… 

He said your name. You rubbed your eyes, mumbling, “What?”

“You fell asleep.” He moved you up to the pillows and licked your cheek. “Get some rest.”

To stop him from turning and leaving, you reached for his hand. “If my game can wait, then your work can. Stay with me?”

Kugo didn’t fight back. He just crawled onto the bed and pulled you onto his bare chest. His heavy arms circled you safely. You curled up, running your fingertips over his cool skin. His tongue caressed your shoulder as you fell asleep in his hold.

Hound Dog

“Take these.” Pain pills dropped into your hand. 

You couldn’t say thanks because Ryo bundled you in a blanket and hoisted you into his arms. To stop him from walking out, you gripped his bicep, whining at his rugged movements, “Wait.”

“What?”

“Grab my blanket… and my Powerade.”

He grumbled but gathered both items. The blanket was flung over your head as he carried you. Your head bumped against his chest when he slunk to the couch. Digging your way out of the quilt, you complained, “You should be gentle.”

“I am gentle.” He reached for and haphazardly dropped candy into your lap. 

You intertwined your fingers with his. “Ryo, be soft with me. Please?”

His wet nose tapped yours. His tongue stroked your lips. He whispered, “I will. Only for you.”

Relaxing his body, he licked your knuckles. You kissed between his eyes, traveling lower, feeling his muzzle and cheeks twitch under your lips. A tender sigh heated your shoulder. He gently nudged your jaw sideways and opened your neck. Calmly and to make up for his gruffness, his tongue lapped along the bruises and splotches he created. They’ll take a while to heal, yet they were well worth it.

As he tasted and swept, you turned on the TV. Scooby-Doo was right there so you clicked it. The opening song caused him to perk up. He scowled but kept his crudeness inside when he said, “Not again. We watched this the other day.”

“That was Scooby-Doo! and the Witch’s Ghost. This is Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island.” You smiled at his eyebrow spasm. “It’s the best one, I swear.”

“Fine. But next time, I’m picking the damn movie.”

“Alright.” 

His nose bopped yours again. “You know I’m trying, right? I want you to feel comfortable. Gentle is new for me.”

“I know and I appreciate it every day.” You kissed his muzzle in admiration. “You’re getting much better.”

No carp or complaint came, just another nose touch. He popped the Twizzler’s bag and held one for you. You bit it with a giant smile, burrowing into his warmth for the night.

[jaskierswolf]

The Love We Have

Part 2/5 - AO3 - Previous - next

Summary: Kaer Morhen has an old tradition in order to keep the witchers safe after the siege. Only witchers and their partners are allowed in the keep but Geralt is tired of parting with Jaskier over the winter so decides to invite him to Kaer Morhen… only he forgets to mention one tiny little detail.

Ship: Geraskier

Rating: T

Warnings: None?? Maybe… I’ll add them later if I remember any.

_______

They’d reached Kaer Morhen by dinner. The keep was… not as impressive as Jaskier had imagined. Deep down he’d known that the home of the wolf witchers had been severely damaged long before Jaskier had taken his first breath, but in his head he’d always imagined a beautiful awe inspiring castle that rose from the mountains and dominated the horizon.

It was barely more than a ruin.

A very pretty ruin, one that Jaskier would normally find absolutely fascinating from an academic perspective, but… he was supposed to be living here during the harsh cold winter.

Perhaps this really had been a bad idea.

He swallowed, debating hiding behind Geralt as they entered the keep, but there was a reason that he’d become a bard instead of inheriting his noble title. If there was one thing Jaskier could do, it was perform. He took a deep breath and plastered a blinding smile onto his face. It was time to act. He laced his fingers with Geralt’s and flashed his witcher a wink before pulling him through the big heavy wooden gates. Another silver-haired witcher grunted as Jaskier flew past him.

“We made it!” he cried with false cheer, spinning both him and Geralt round in a circle. The witcher thankfully loosened his grip on Roach’s reins and she trotted off towards the stable. “I can’t believe we finally made it, oh darling it’s beautiful.”

Geralt’s flushed, a pretty pink that was stark against his pale skin. “Jask,” he groaned but let himself be pulled around, much to Jaskier’s delight.

The other witcher cleared his throat and Jaskier ground to halt, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s waist and pressing his face into his chest with a giggle. “My deepest apologies!” he exclaimed, pulling away from Geralt but keeping an iron tight grip on Geralt’s hand as he bowed deeply. “I am Jaskier, Geralt’s partner.”

He gave the witcher a charming smile and winked as he extended his hand. “It’s good to meet you.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt growled, as the other witcher stoically ignored his greeting. “Stop flirting.”

Jaskier pouted, but sighed and curled back up into Geralt’s side, taking advantage of the heat. If he didn’t know better, he would have said that Geralt had been blessed by fire nymphs. It would explain the smokey musk that followed Geralt everywhere, even when they hadn’t been near a campfire in days.

“Geralt, what is this?” the other witcher grumbled, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his face clear in its stony disapproval.

“Jaskier, my bard, partner,” Geralt muttered. “He’s staying with us this winter. Jaskier, this is Vesemir.”

“Hi,” Jaskier said with an awkward wave.

“Take him to your room and then come down to the library.”

Vesemir walked away before either of them could argue. Jaskier let out a low whistle. “Well, shit. That didn’t go so well.”

“He’s just protective,” Geralt insisted, squeezing Jaskier’s hand.

Jaskier looked down at their linked fingers, surprised that they were still together. As far as Jaskier could tell, Vesemir was the only witcher at the keep, and thus the only one they had to convince for now. There was no need for Geralt to keep hold of his hand… and yet, here they were.

“I just want them to like me,” Jaskier sighed.

“They will.”

Jaskier scoffed. “Darling,” the pet name rolling off his tongue without thought, “It took you years to warm up to me.”

“That’s not true,” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Yes, it is!” he said as he poked Geralt in the chest.

Geralt hummed and stalked away, pulling Jaskier with him as if he’d completely forgotten they were even holding hands. Jaskier yelped and tripped over his own feet, gripping onto Geralt’s arm to steady himself. It was going to be an interesting winter indeed.

_____________

Geralt’s room was very lovely. He had a large double bed pressed up to the one wall. It was covered in furs of varying types, mostly wolf fur by the feel of it. There was also a large heavy rug in front of the fireplace that was blazing. As a result, the room was actually warm, almost too warm after the numbing cold of the mountain. There was a warm scent of lavender in the room that Jaskier hadn’t expected. It was a scent he enjoyed himself and he frequently chose perfumes and oils that were lavender based if the coin allowed. He found a small incense on the windowsill, the source of the smell. He inhaled deeply and smiled. Whilst Geralt was away he could imagine that the witcher had chosen this particular scent to keep Jaskier with him over their months, sometimes even years, apart.

It was nonsense, nothing but a dream, but it warmed Jaskier’s heart nonetheless. He flopped down onto the bed, exhausted in both mind and body. It was larger than the ones they’d had to share at the inns on the road. He was strangely grateful for that. It meant he’d be able to put at least some distance between him and Geralt. He would need that if he were to survive the winter. He rolled onto his front and pulled his lute case from off the floor. Once his precious instrument was safely unpacked and in his hands, he rolled back, staring up at the ceiling as he plucked tunelessly at the strings.

The cold had ruined the tuning just like he’d suspected it would. It was hard enough to keep the damned instrument in tune without the sudden changes in temperature, but at least it gave him something to focus on. He closed his eyes and fiddled with the pegs one by one, plucking at the strings with possibly more force than necessary, until his darling instrument was once again the envy of all the Continent.

He sighed dramatically and began to pull a heart wrenching melody from his baby. It had no words yet, but the message was clear to even an untrained ear. It was melancholic, full of longing, heartache… and lust.

He hadn’t even noticed he was crying until a sob tore from his throat. He cradled his lute to his chest and let the tears flood down his cheeks. He wasn’t even entirely sure why he was crying. Perhaps the whole journey up the mountain had just been a bit much for him. Physically he was completely exhausted. He wasn’t sure his toes would ever recover from the cold and even though they’d taken it slowly, the mountain path was called The Killer for a reason. It would have been hard enough even without the emotional toil that had accompanied it.

The hand on his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts. He gasped and shuffled until his back hit the headboard. It took him a moment to notice the soft yellow eyes looking down at him.

“Ah, Geralt,” he greeted with as much cheer in his voice as he could muster.

“You’re crying,” Geralt whispered, behaving uncharacteristically soft for the witcher. Jaskier bit back a groan of confusion at the concern lying in those familiar amber eyes. His heart was too fragile right now for this emotional whiplash and Geralt’s odd behaviour was opposite of what he needed at the moment.

“Just tired,” he muttered, wiping the tears from his face.

Geralt carefully took the lute from his hands and returned it to its case. Jaskier felt an urge to hug Geralt and never let go. No one had even treated Jaskier or his belongings with such tenderness. Gods, he was a mess. He was almost crying again because Geralt had touched his lute and didn’t break it.

“You’ll feel better after some food and then we can come back upstairs. Vesemir won’t be expecting our company this evening. We won’t have to pretend.”

Jaskier chewed his bottom lip to stop himself from blurting out that it wouldn’t be a pretence. That would be far too dramatic even for his tastes. Instead he nodded and let Geralt pull him from the bed. Of course, being the disaster that he was, he tripped and practically fell into the witcher’s arms. Geralt caught him but Jaskier hadn’t expected to be so close to the witcher. It felt like all the air had been sucked from the room as he glanced up at Geralt. Well… more across. Geralt really wasn’t that much taller than him despite his fearsome appearance.

They were close.

Too close.

Jaskier could feel the tickle of Geralt’s breath on his lips, that smokey musk mixed with leather and oil washing over him. He licked his lips, speechless for possibly only the fifth time in his entire life. For a moment he thought he saw Geralt’s eyes flicker down to his lips, but that couldn’t be right. That would just be an illusion, wishful thinking. He cleared his throat and patted Geralt on the shoulder.

“Alrighty! Thank you, Geralt,” he stammered and pushed away.

Gods, when had things become so difficult. They’d been friends for years and Jaskier had never been afraid of physical contact with Geralt before. Why couldn’t he just relax, be himself? He was going to ruin everything. Vesemir would never believe their performance if he kept acting like a scared rat, and Geralt would likely start becoming suspicious if he didn’t get a grip soon.

“I’m sorry.”

Jaskier’s eyes flashed up in surprise. Of all the reactions he’d expected from Geralt, an apology hadn’t been on the list. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You’re scared of me.”

Jaskier gaped, opening his mouth and closing it several times before letting out a long sigh. “No, I’m not.”

Geralt snorted. “I can smell it, Jaskier. There’s no point in lying to me.”

Jaskier swallowed. “And what else can your witcher senses pick up?” he asked. Okay, so maybe he was a little afraid, but not for the reasons that Geralt would think. If Geralt could smell fear, then it was only natural that he could smell other emotions, love for one, lust for another. Oh gods, how many times had Jaskier come back to camp after a moment alone to himself? He’d never even considered that Geralt could smell it on him.

“On you?”

“Yes.”

“Now?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier would praise all the gods if he never had to hear that again. For once, he would just like Geralt to use his damn words! He was tired of trying to translate all the bloody grunts. Whilst he was unusually proficient in it, he was also a troubadour, a poet, a wordsmith. He took a deep breath, ready to give Geralt a piece of his mind when Geralt cut him off, pressing his palm to Jaskier’s lips. He huffed and glared at the witcher.

“Let me think, Jaskier,” Geralt said softly. Jaskier rolled his eyes and did the only rational thing he could think of. He licked Geralt. The witcher snarled and pulled his hand away. “Urgh!”

Jaskier cackled and put his hands on his hips. “Serves you right, darling.”

Geralt growled and shoved Jaskier lightly in the chest so he fell back onto the bed. “You stink of many things, bard.”

“Oh?”

“Lust mostly, bloody hell I’ve never known anyone to reek of arousal every fucking hour of the day,” Geralt grumbled but there was a fondness in his voice. Jaskier felt himself blush at the witcher’s words. He didn’t mention that his arousal around Geralt didn’t necessarily equate to feeling it all the time. That was a fun little fact for another time, possibly never. One to write into his songs perhaps. “and then something… sweeter.”

“Sweeter?” Jaskier asked, his heart beating faster than any percussion at Oxenfurt. There was still time to run right… maybe the trek down the mountain wouldn’t be as hard as the journey up.

“Not sure what it is,” Geralt admitted and Jaskier let out a sigh of relief.

Oh.

Jaskier’s relief didn’t last long at all. Geralt didn’t know what it was… because he’d never experienced it. Didn’t have the knowledge to put a name to it. He knew fear, and lust… probably anger too.

But he didn’t know love.

Jaskier wanted to kiss him. He wanted to worship him. He wanted Geralt to know how much he was loved, adored, but he was a coward; a fucking coward.

“Ah, right, well… I have no idea what that could be. New perfume perhaps?”

“Hmm,” Geralt answered, not sounding very convinced and Jaskier didn’t blame him.

“Shall we go?” Jaskier asked quickly, changing the subject before Geralt could press. “I am starving!”

Geralt led him through the stone corridors of Kaer Morhen, occasionally pointing out rooms that Jaskier might need to be able to find. He learnt that they were expecting two more witchers for the winter; Geralt’s family, Eskel and Lambert. He’d heard rumours that Lambert had made a friend on the road but, like Jaskier, he wouldn’t be allowed to winter with them unless they were in a relationship.

Jaskier scoffed haughtily. “You do realise that that is a stupid rule, right?”

“It protects us.”

“And you need protection from your friends? Is romance really that much stronger than friendship?” Jaskier muttered. It was bullshit, but he was a little smug that Geralt was prepared to break the rules for him.

Their friendship meant more to the witcher than he’d realised.

“Geralt, bard,” Vesemir greeted with a grunt, gesturing to the bowls of stew that didn’t look too dissimilar to the bowls of food that Geralt pulled together on the road. Jaskier was grateful for his years of acting training at Oxenfurt, because otherwise he would have pulled a terrible face that would have only offended Geralt’s father figure.

Instead, he swiped up his spoon with a cheerful smile and slid into the bench. Geralt silently moved to sit next to him and Jaskier, taking advantage of their situation, pressed a little closer than he would normally dare. Their thighs touched under the table and Jaskier felt a blush creep up on his face. He hooked his foot around Geralt’s, ignoring the startled look he received.

“Good evening,” Jaskier greeted with faux cheer “Oh this. This smells delicious, I can certainly see where Geralt’s gets his culinary skills from.”

Geralt almost choked on his food. Whilst Jaskier’s words sounded like a compliment, they both knew how much Jaskier had complained about Geralt’s cooking over the years. In fact, Jaskier had taken to bringing his own seasoning and herbs on their travels. Anything to save him from the bland never-ending stews of the road.

Vesemir smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Geralt has the culinary skills of a queen, bard.”

Jaskier flushed; rumbled. “Ah well, it does look rather similar.”

“Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

Jaskier dropped his head, feeling sufficiently shamed. Only he would accidentally insult their hosts on the first days whilst trying to make a quick-witted joke at Geralt’s expense.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and ate a spoonful of his soup. The flavours exploded in his mouth and he moaned around his spoon. “Oh, dearest Melitele, this is good! My sincerest apologies, Vesemir. Lesson learnt.”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier pressed his lips together to stop himself from laughing. Whilst their cooking skills were vastly different, Geralt and Vesemir’s conversational skills were apparently not so far apart.

“Oh, you have got to tell me how you made this, it’s bloody delicious! Not even the finest banquets in all the Continent can hold a candle to—”

“That’s enough now, bard,” Vesemir growled but there was mirth in his eyes.

Jaskier nodded and went back to his soup. Dinner was a quiet affair. Vesemir asked Geralt a few questions about life on the path, mostly professional curiosity from one witcher to another. Geralt’s answers were monosyllabic and boring, hardly a story to tell. Jaskier vowed to retell their adventures to the Kaer Morhen witchers over the winter. He would do them justice, and contrary to what Geralt thinks of his ballads, he would even tell the truth. They only needed a minor embellishment here and there. The winter would hopefully give him plenty of time to work on a new set. The time he’d normally spend teaching could be spent creating masterpieces, the likes of which the Continent had never seen before.

“Well, this has been very lovely, I thank you once again, my dear Vesemir, for the exquisite dining, but it’s been a long day and we really should be getting to sleep,” Jaskier announced with a flourish, giving Geralt a wink.

“Just remember, bard, that witchers have better hearing than you can even imagine,” Vesemir said with possibly the best poker face that Jaskier had ever seen. It was only the slight twinkle in his ancient eyes that gave away the joke.

Jaskier laughed and pressed his lips to Geralt’s cheek. “We’ll be sure to remember that, thank you.”

_________________

By the time they got back up to Geralt’s—no, their room—Jaskier was panicking. It had been an innocent joke on Vesemir’s part, a warning that privacy was not something they could expect. It was possibly even a plea to keep any sexual activities as quiet as possible and at reasonable hours of the day.

But…

Jaskier was panicking.

“Geralt?” he asked as he paced around the room.

Geralt was busy stripping off and getting ready for bed. Normally Jaskier would try to peek little glances, but he was too anxious. He didn’t have the luxury of ogling Geralt at that moment. They had a problem.

“Hmm?”

“Geralt, we have a problem.”

Geralt snorted. “We always have a problem, Jaskier, and normally you’re the one causing it.”

Jaskier gaped, his hands flying to his hips in a display of outrage. “Geralt! That is just rude! Mister-Let’s-Call-The-Law-of-Surprise-Even-After-We’ve-Just-Seen-How-Bad-It-Can-Be. You are rude and grumpy, and I don’t know why I’m friends with you.”

Geralt turned, giving Jaskier a rather lovely view of his bare torso, and raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t have been there at all if you could keep your dick in your pants.”

“Oh ho ho! No, no, no. You are not blaming that one on me.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Focus, Jask.”

Focus…

“Oh bollocks, yes, yes. Focus! Where was I?”

“You have a problem?” Geralt reminded him gently.

“We have a problem, darling. Witcher hearing,” he announced, his arms wide.

Geralt just stared at him blankly.

“They’ll know if we don’t… you know?” Jaskier hissed, but Vesemir’s words still rang in his head.

“So?”

“Oh come on, Geralt. That’s just not realistic! I assume you have at least mentioned me in passing over the years and the umm… well the trouble my umm… my habits can cause.”

“Fuck.”

“Precisely!”

[viking-raider]

A Raw Heart - *Sensitive! READ THE WARNINGS!*

Summary: You tell Henry about the worst tragedy in your life.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 1,863

Rating: Mature -  Serious Angst, Tragedy, Anguish, Grief, Loss, Death, Hurt/Comfort, Possible triggers

Inspiration: I’ve thought about this story for a long time, and it’s a bit personal.

Author’s Note: Read the Warnings!

You and Henry had been seeing each other for several months, having met at the auditions for Night Hunter. It was the first time Henry had been in your place, over for a nice night in, you left him in your living room long enough to get you both some wine. While you did that, Henry looked around, peeking at stuff, but not invading your privacy, checking out the books you had on your shelves and the photos you had on display around.

He noticed a small Russian doll-like thing on one of your shelves and picked it up, admiring it.

“Henry.” You called, standing on the other side of the room from him, stiff as a board. “Put it down.” You almost hissed at him. “Don't touch it.” You told him, trembling and your voice unsteady. “Please.” You added, your throat tight and tears threatening.

“I'm sorry.” Henry squeaked, putting it back where it was on the shelf. “I was just admiring it. It's really beautiful.” He babbled, nervously. “Where did you get it?” He asked, looking over at you and was caught off guard by the tears dripping down your face.

“It's my son.” You mumbled, struggling to gulp down your tears and emotions.

Henry blinked and his whole body jerked, shocked by your words. “What?” He pushed out, his own throat tight.

“Oh god.” You mewled, realizing what you had said. “Please, leave.” You whimpered, then rushed down the hall to your room, slamming the door behind you and barreling into your bathroom, to drop to your knees in front of the toilet bowl, wrenching violently into it.

Henry carefully opened your bedroom door, hearing your dry heaves, and followed the sound of it. “Hey.” He whispered, kneeling beside you and rubbing your back, his face showing his deep concern for you.

“I as-asked you t-to leave.” You wheezed, panting into the bowl, your heavy tears dripping into it.

“I know you did.” Henry sighed, still rubbing your back in a reassuring way. “But, I can't just leave you like this.” He said, getting up and finding a wash cloth hanging on the towel rack and ran it under the sink faucet. “I never meant to upset you.” He whispered, gently wiping the cool cloth over your temples, forehead and cheeks, even pressing it to the back of your neck for a moment.

“You didn't know.” You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut. “Only a few people know what that is.”

Henry gulped, a pit in his stomach and bit his lip for a moment. “You said...” He took a deep breath. “You said, it was your son.” He said, chewing his bottom lip to bits.

“I did.” You whimpered, sitting down and pressing your back to the side of the cold tub. “When I was twenty, I was dating a guy, but we broke it off. Two months later, I found out I was pregnant with his baby. I told him and he wanted nothing to do with me, or the baby. Shocker of the century.” You chuckled, but whined at how sore your throat was.

“What happened?” Henry frowned, resting back against the vanity, and drawing his knees up.

“Well, I had the usual three options.” You sighed, staring up at the ceiling. “Have the baby and give it up for adopting, keep him or the other option.” You said, glancing at him for a moment, to get the point across. “I wasn't going to the latter thing, wasn't something I could live with. So, over the next eight and a half months, I tossed back and forth between adoption or keeping him. I thought, just before labor happened, that I was going to put him up for adoption. I was twenty, still living at home and had a shit job. What life could I give him, a struggling mother and an absent father.”

You paused for a moment, lost in a memory.

“But, when I finally gave birth to him, and I saw him in all his bloody, messy and screaming glory, I was enamored by him. He was beautiful and perfect, but importantly, he was mine. My son. I made him.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “With a little help, I suppose. But, I made him, with my body, my blood and flesh, inside me for months. It was like, I already knew him and he already knew me.”

“Pals for the ages.”

You smiled and closed your eyes, tears dripping down your cheeks, as you recalled his little face, the warmth and weight of his teeny body in your arms, his smooth and downy skin against your chest. Hearing him coo at you, just before he latched onto your breast and fed, or how he squirmed as you bathed him. You would stay awake for hours, not caring how absolutely wrecked and exhausted you were from the day, to watch him sleep in the little cradle that attached you to the side of your bed. Remembering the first time he laughed, you blew a raspberry on his tummy as you changed his pamper and he became hysterical, filling your ears with that absolutely magical baby laugh, that no matter how horrible your day was going and how shitty you felt, you couldn't help but laugh along too; blowing more and more raspberries against his squirmy body and flailing arms and legs, his face bright with a face splitting grin.

“What happened?” Henry whispered, his voice weak and stomach clenching.

You choked suddenly as the horrible memory strangled you, like it had over the long years. “My boss made me work late one night, so I left him with my mother, she babysat him all the time, he was her first grand-baby and she was almost as wild about him as I was. I was a few hours into my shift, when my mom called, and I knew, instantly, something was wrong. She always called me before she put him to sleep, so I could talk to him and hear his little noises; and she had already done that.”

“Two hours before.”

“She had gone into check on him, and..” You froze, your breathing faltering and gripped the rug beneath you, tearing at it as your grief slammed into you. “He wasn't breathing and wouldn't respond. She called medical services, then called me, while they tried to save him.”

Henry's chin hit his chest, a tight bubble of grief in him. “I'm so sorry.” He whimpered, crushed for you, realizing what he had picked up was indeed your son, his urn. “I'm sorry.” He choked, moving over to you and hugging you against his body, letting you sob into his chest, soaking his shirt with your anguished tears, your heart splitting wails crushing him, like a factory of bricks.

“My boy.” You howled, clinging onto Henry, twisting your hands up in the back of his sweater. “My baby boy.”

“I know.” Henry choked and held you tight, tears dripping from his scruffy jaw and into your hair, rocking both of you. “I know, love. I know.”

“I miss him, Henry.” You sighed and sniffled, looking up at him. “I miss him, with every fiber of my soul and life.”

Henry smiled softly at you, brushing your hair out of your face. “I know you do, sweetheart. I know you do. But, he's still with you. He will always be with you, darling. In your heart and in your soul. Because you made him, with your body, your blood and your flesh, inside of you for months, and he's still in your body, blood and flesh, here and now, forever and always.” He told you, cupping your face in his shaking hands.

“Nothing and no one can ever take that, or him, from you. Even if he's not here with you, physically.”

You looked into Henry's baby blue, bloody shot and teary eyes, sucking your wobbling lip between your teeth, chin shaking as your body was wracked with a wave of new tears and emotions. No one had ever said something like that to you before. Everyone that knew about your son told you to move on, that the pain would pass and lessen, but it only grew worse over the years. Missing out on his first tooth coming in or losing one and sneaking money under his pillow for the tooth fairy, his first steps and word. His first day of school, his first crush on someone, watching him grow tall and do some many things you saw other kids doing. Your mother even suggested finding a guy and having another kid, but that thought horrified you, afraid that the same thing would happen all over again.

But, Henry's words had instilled something in your sore and cracked heart, like putting a plaster on it. He was right, your son might not be here physically anymore, but you had created him with your own body, nestled in your womb, his DNA was yours and it was still alive, so he was still alive, in that way.

“His name,” You said softly, letting go of your trembling lip. “was Julian.”

Henry smiled at you. “It's a beautiful name.” He replied, gently.

It was then, that it struck you, something you had only just realized as you shared a devastating, raw and such a personal moment that you have never shared with anyone else, or even talked about with the people that did, that you tried to avoid thinking about. You had freely given Henry the information about Julian, you had never told any of the guys you previously saw or dated, a few asked about the small, silver and blue urn, but you always changed the subject.

Why had you told Henry about him, so freely, letting down all the thick walls you had built around yourself over the years? You had known him for two months and been only four or five dates, but you felt safe with him; loved, understood and listened to.

Henry wrapped his arms around you and stood you both back up, guiding you back into the living room, sitting you down on the couch, then went into the kitchen, finding two glasses and two bottles of wine on the kitchen counter, obviously you had come into the living room as he picked up Julian's urn to ask which bottle he wanted. He just grabbed one, pulled the cork out of the neck and poured you both a glass, before bringing it out to you; sitting on the couch with you tucked into his warm and protective side. Neither of you said anything, sitting quietly on the couch, sipping your glasses of wine, in silence.

“Thank you.” You whispered, your voice still hoarse from all your crying. “I've been hanging onto that for so long.”

“Of course.” He whispered back, gently kissing your temple. “I'll always be here, if you need to talk it out, or cry it out.” He told you, giving you a tender expression, before hugging you snugly.

[systlinsideblog]

Part 2

The Lady walked, unseen and unheard, through the grass. 

She looked out from the eyes of animals, felt through the grass, through the soil. She was, after all, a goddess of soil and fertility and life, and all life was her domain. 

She followed her child, as Systlin walked. 

It was cruel, sometimes, the uses to which she must put her chosen champion. The Lady regretted it, on occasion. But it was necessary, and her champion had the fortitude and skill to accept such hard tasks, to stand her ground though the whole world be against her. Her champion had the power to change worlds.

There was much on this world that needed changing. The cries of pain had reached the Lady, though she was not the native goddess of these people. 

But the gods here were silent. The Lady was, among other things, a goddess of mercy, and she’d not been able to bear it.

Justice was what was needed, but there was none of it to be found in this place. Justice was not one of the Lady’s domains. But there was one for whom it was, even if that one still railed against what she’d become when she’d taken the soul of a slain mad god into herself.

She watched, as her champion killed, and though it was not her domain she could taste the justice of it. She’d brought justice and protection to a world with none, and granted mercy to the millions who cried for it. It was honey in her mouth.

A breaker, to break a whole world. The Lady thought, and smiled.

 The leader of these...people...would not been pleased with her. She knew this, because she would not be pleased with anyone who came before her in her court and challenged her as she planned to challenge him. She would probably have had them seized, had they tried such a thing, and likely killed. 

But then, Systlin was fully ready to burn this entire camp down, and quite honestly the only reason she hadn't yet was because there were helpless innocents in among the monsters who called themselves men. 

Every step she took led her past women collared like dogs. Some wore nothing but bells, and Systlin was no fool; she guessed the purpose of such things. Some were chained to wagons. The ones allowed clothing wore little of it. To a one, the women gave way to men. On some of them, Systlin could see whip wheals and healed scars from beatings. 

Her power curled within her, and oh but the lure of it was a powerful thing, as her blood ran hot and the red rage misted her vision. 

But that was a dangerous path, and for now she kept her power under tight rein. 

The women she passed looked at her with something like wonder; they had never seen, she supposed, a woman armed like she. 

One woman, a chained girl wearing little but scraps of leather, had in fascination reached out to touch the hilt of Ice. Systlin paused to let her, and smiled. 

"Warrior caste?" The girl's voice was wondering. "But..."

"Women," Systlin said, her voice gentle. "Make excellent fighters. It was a woman who trained me." 

The girl smiled, and then all at once a man angrily grabbed for the back of the collar around the girl's neck, and moved to cuff her. The girl yelped and cowered, apologizing, begging forgiveness, and it was enough. 

Ice was in her hand without conscious thought as she moved, and then she was standing over the cowering woman, legs planted, the point of her sword at the man's throat. The Power-bound blade, sharp as a razor, drew a drop of blood where it dug into skin. 

"If you touch her." Systlin's voice was a snarl. "I will kill you." 

She let, at last, the tiniest curl of her curse rise. It came cold and eager, and she reached out, feeling, feeling the million tiny flaws  in everything around her, in her bones, in the bones of those around her, in the girl's collar...

"How dare you!" The man was furious. "She is mine! I will do with her as I like, I am her master!" 

Systlin pushed, a thin little thread of Power, delicate as a needle. 

The girl's collar cracked with a sound of over-stressed metal, and fell from her neck in two halves. 

"She," Systlin hissed, "Is a woman, and a person, and not to be owned. What the bloody fuck is wrong with you people?"

"She is a woman!" The man hissed right back at her, heedless of the sword at his throat. "Her place is as a sla..."

It was the last thing he said. Systlin ran Ice through his throat, out the back of his neck. The sudden gurgle as his windpipe was severed was as sweet as music. 

There was a roar of outrage, and she felt rather than saw the lance shoved for her back. She bent away, and it went past. She whipped her sword around, getting her back to the wagon, and looked down the length of ice-blue steel at the snarling faces of hundreds of furious warriors.

“Eighteen.” She said, coldly. “Whoever wants to be nineteen, step forward first.”

“Give me one reason, woman.” Kamchak was deadly serious. “Why I should not order you slain where you stand.”

“Because you said that you would take me to this Kutaituchik.” Systlin shrugged one shoulder. “And go on and do it. I would be delighted to kill some more of you.”

“You’re mad.”

“I fear that I am the only sane one present.”

“I should kill you.”

Systlin’s patience snapped. She called again on her curse, and with a terrible cracking of wood fifty lances snapped in a moment, dissolving into splinters in their owner’s hands. There was a cry of astonishment and…ah, yes, there it was…fear.

Several warriors…didn’t quite step back, but leaned back a bit, and looked uneasy.

“Try.” She said, very softly. “Please try. I’ll make a soup bowl of your skull.”

Kamchak regarded her for a long moment. “So you are a sorceress.”

“The next thing I break will be you, and the twenty men closest to you, unless you take me to this man as you promised.”

There was a long, tense moment, and finally Kamchak turned and jerked his chin at her to follow. Systlin did, warily. She did not tamp her power down and lock it away; she kept it to hand, a constant itch under her skin, a temptation to crack the femur of the man ahead of her just to hear him scream.

She did not. She’d long ago mastered her power, as perhaps no other Breaker had. She ruled it, not the other way around. She felt the temptation, but discarded it, and kept the terrible boon of her power close at hand.

She would need it. She knew it in her bones already. The sun was dipping towards evening. She’d been a warrior for decades. She was a warrior, a conqueror, a queen who’d fought two wars against people and one against a god. She’d won all three.

She knew, in her bones, that tonight she’d be spilling blood. A lot of it.

The girl rushed to stay near her, trembling. Systlin let her; the poor thing was terrified, traumatized, and clinging to perhaps the one thing that had ever offered her a helping hand. She had never been particularly good at comfort, but she tried; she patted the woman on the shoulder, somewhat awkwardly. The girl flinched, but then looked at her with wide frightened eyes.

“It’s all right.” Systlin tried to keep her voice gentle, for all murder was singing under her skin and gleefully anticipating a slaughter. “It’s all right. To touch you again, they’d have to go over my dead body.”

This seemed small comfort to the woman. “They’ll like that.” She said, in a very small voice.

“They won’t. I can and will kill every man in this camp if I must.”

A wide-eyed look. “No one can do that. No one but a god.”

“And I killed a god once.” Systlin shrugged. “Men die easier.”

The look she got was skeptical, but the girl clearly remembered the shattered lances. The trembling faded perhaps a little.

She was led to an open area before a wagon of exceptional size and make. Jewels and gold glinted and glittered everywhere. Systlin waited as men ducked into the wagon and hurried conversation were had. She waited as rugs and cushions were brought out, and finally with ceremony an old gray robe was spread over them. She waited as an older man was escorted with great deference from the wagon. He assumed the seat, still chewing a string of some substance. Systlin noted the somewhat sleepy detatchment in his eyes.

The lines of his face were familiar. She looked from him to Kamchak, and back. Kamchak was just turning, and took up a position very close to the older man.

Ahhh. She remembered the deference shown Kamchak by the other warriors, and noted how they looked to him even now. Ahhh. I see.

The old man… Kutaituchik …looked her up and down. She looked back, with all the self-assurance she had, which was enough to break an army against.

“I am told,” The old man said at last. “That you killed eighteen of my warriors.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Because they offered me insult and implied that they would put me in chains and enslave me.”

“You are a woman, are you not?” The old man said mildly.

The rage boiled again, and Systlin forced it from red hot into ice. “Slavery is abomination.” She said sharply. “It is among the greatest crimes, to hold another person in bondage. Those who would break another person to their will are monsters, and killing them cleanly is too good for them. Enslaving another for the purpose of sex is beyond abomination, for rape is another of the greatest of crimes. To even suggest such a thing is vile, and I sincerely wonder what in the name of all the gods and spirits is wrong with the men of this camp.”

A short laugh. “Ahhh. Another sent by the Priest-Kings then, new to Gor?”

Gor. The name of this world, then? And Priest-Kings; gods of some sort? “I am not from this place, no, and thank the Lady’s mercy for that.”

“You’ll find,” said Kutaituchik, “That the ways of Gor are different. You may as well get used to them, woman; you’ll find that the Tuchuk are quite fair masters, all in all. As you are new, I shall not have you killed. The male kin of those you have slain will draw lots, and the winner may put his collar on you and claim your sword as recompense. If he is charitable, he will loan you to the other men seeking recompense.”

There was a general murmur of approval from the surrounding men. Systlin felt the itch under her skin grow more insistent. The girl clinging to her side sobbed. “I told you,” she said. “I told you!”

“I have a counter offer.” Systlin said. She was drawing up power now, and readying it, because she knew with absolute certainty that she was nearing the point where it would turn to blood. She looked Kutaituchik dead in the eyes. “You acknowledge me as your new chieftain and acknowledge my word as the new law. You remove the collars from every slave in this camp. You renounce your crimes, and abase yourself for forgiveness before those you have wronged. You pay recompense and escort every newly freed woman wherever she wishes to be taken, and leave her there with funds and supplies enough to piece a life back together.”

She smiled horribly, a smile that held no mirth. “Since you are new to this new law, I will not kill you for your crimes.”

There was utter silence. And then a great roar of laughter all about.

“Kamchak.” Kutaituchik said. “Kill her.”

Kamchak nodded, and the men who’d been creeping up behind her moved. Systlin had been tracking them for some time; she’d felt the disturbances in the air and the patches of too-silent space behind her. They intended, she guessed, to strike her without warning. It was wise. It was what she would have done to kill a sorceress, were she without power.

Systlin reached into that yawning pit of coldly eager power within her, and she broke the men trying to kill her. Bones shattered into splinters. It was utterly soundless, save for the sudden screams of agony as men collapsed into piles of bloody meat.

It was easy. It was terribly easy. Her blood sang with the last agonized gurgling screams.

“Good effort.” She said, and she could not keep the smile from her face. “You should have taken my offer. Now I extend you my second; you submit to me, here and now, and I make your death painless.”

“Kill her!” The words were roared in utter furious rage. “Tuchuks! KILL HER!” A thousand voices roared, and a forest of lances rose.

Systlin drew her sword, and her dagger, and smiled, and in that smile was ruin. And as the first warriors rushed forward, she began to kill.

[allthingsfangirl101]

*The Perfect Goodbye–Zac Efron

Warnings: first time, losing virginity, protected sex, language

I sat on Zac's bed, my knees tucked up to my chest. I struggled to hold back the tears as he packed up his things.

"Okay, I think I have everything," he mumbled as he looked down at his list. His lips moved as he silently checked things off.

"Yep," he said, looking up at me and smiling. "I got everything. I can't believe I'm moving to LA tomorrow."

The smile fell from his lips when he saw me biting back tears.

"Y/N," he sighed as he shoved the list into his pocket.

He walked over and crawled on the bed next to me. I scooted away from him when he tried to wrap his arms around me.

I opened and closed my mouth, unable to form words. There was so much that I wanted to tell him, so many things I've kept bottled up. For starters, the fact that I've been in love with him since middle school. Even though I had a lot to say, I couldn't seem to find the words

"Y/N," he started. I shook my head as I quickly stood up.

"I gotta go," I rushed out. I wrapped my arms around myself and quickly left his house, ignoring him calling out to me.

                         * * * * *

A few hours later, I was sitting on my bed reading when there was a knock at the door. I looked up, my breath instantly getting caught in my throat when I saw Zac standing in the doorway. I bit my lip, looking down to see he had grocery bags full of treats, his laptop bag over his shoulder, and two pizza boxes in his hand.

"Hey," he said hesitantly. He slowly walked into my room, putting the stuff in his hands on the floor before walking over to me. He hesitated to sit down at the end of the bed.

I scooted to the end of my bed and grabbed his hand, pulling him down next to me. I leaned my head on his shoulder, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"It's okay," he nodded, not letting me go. "I know me leaving is hard on you. Especially with your parents constantly fighting. I just don't want to spend my last night without you."

Zac pulled out of our hug but kept his arm wrapped around my waist. He smiled as he started to list what we were going to do tonight.

"I brought my computer so we can watch movies all night, two pizzas – one for now and one for later – and all our favorite treats so we can stuff our faces all night."

When we were younger, and my parents weren't constantly yelling at each other, Zac and I used to have sleepovers where we slept on the floor all the time. It was only fitting that we did the same thing the night before he left to start his career in LA. We spent the night, watching movies and eating treats on the floor of my room.

We had just started the second movie of our marathon when we heard the front door open and quickly slam shut, followed by the arguing of my parents.

"You were forty minutes late, Y/F/N." I heard my mother chastise. "We both agreed to go to therapy. When we agreed, we also agreed to be there."

"I didn't agree to this," I heard my father scoff. "You forced it upon me."

"For the welfare of Y/N. You remember her? Our daughter?"

My eyes filled with tears as they continued to fight. Zac must have seen the look on my face because he jumped up, quickly and quietly shutting my bedroom door.

"Zac," I said, my breath getting stuck in my throat. "We aren't supposed to be alone in my room with the door closed."

"I don't care," he said as he walked back over to me. We leaned against the edge of my bed, Zac instantly pulling me into his chest.

I took a shaky breath as he started rubbing my back. I buried my face in his shirt as the tears started streaming down my cheeks.

"They're getting worse," I said, not pulling away from his chest. He hummed and tightened his arms around me, knowing I just needed to vent.

"The only time they don't fight is when my dad is at work," I continued. "The minute he walks in the door, my mom always says he did something wrong or my dad complains about dinner. Then things. . . Escalate. Things never get physical, but. . ."

I felt Zac lean slightly out of the hug, but his arms still around me when I didn't continue. "Y/N?" He said gently. "Are you ever scared they might. . ."

"Hurt me?" I asked, finishing his thought. I sat up and moved my head over to his shoulder as I sighed. "No. I mean, I know they would never hurt me. . . Or each other. They throw things at the wall sometimes but never at each other. Like the other day, my dad broke their wedding picture after throwing an empty beer bottle at it."

Zac sighed as he reached over and grabbed my hand in his. "I'm so sorry, Y/N," he whispered. After a few beats of silence, he added, "And I'm leaving you tomorrow."

"I wish I was going with you," I said under my breath as I snuggled deeper into his hold.

"You can always come visit me," he shrugged. I looked up at him, nervously biting my bottom lip.

"Really?"

"Of course," he smiled down at me as he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "You could run away and live in my apartment with me."

I looked up at him, my eyes filling with different tears. They weren't hurt, scared tears that I've been crying lately. They were the tears you cry when the love of your life is leaving and he doesn't know he's the love of your life.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead. As he started to lean back, I grabbed his face and brought his lips down to mine. Zac sucked in a breath when our lips pressed together.

I was about to pull out of the kiss, embarrassed by my sudden moment of courage, but Zac put his hand on the back of my neck, deepening the kiss.

We were sitting on the floor, leaning against my bed as our lips moved in sync. My hands were still holding his face as his hand slid down my back. I gasped, breaking the kiss when he grabbed my waist and pulled me so I was straddling his hips.

I leaned my forehead against his as we caught our breaths. I slowly leaned back, nervously biting my bottom lip. I looked into his eyes, completely speechless. His lips slowly formed a smile as he stared into my eyes. As soon as our breathing had gone back to normal, we both leaned in and started moving our lips in sync again.

"Zac," I said between kisses. I moaned when he pulled away and started kissing my neck. "I have to tell you something," I stuttered as his lips traveled down my neck, before stopping and focusing on my collarbone.

It took everything in me to push Zac away, disconnecting his lips from my skin. I took a shaky breath, hesitating.

"What is it?" He asked, reaching up and tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

"There's something I've never told you," I said, messing with the collar of his shirt, avoiding his gaze. "And. . . And I would regret it for the rest of my life if I let you go to LA without telling you."

I finally looked up at Zac, nervously chewing on my bottom lip. "Y/N," he smiled at me. "You can tell me anything."

"I love you," I said quickly before I could talk myself out of it. "I've been in love with you for so long."

Before I could say anything else, Zac grabbed my face and roughly pressed his lips to mine. I let out the breath I was holding as our lips moved against each other. I moaned as he slid his hands down my body until they pressed to my back, pulling me in closer to him. He pulled away and leaned his forehead against mine, slightly rubbing my nose with his.

"I love you too, Y/N."

I leaned back, my heart dropping into my stomach. "What's wrong?" He asked hesitantly when he saw the look on my face.

"You're going to LA tomorrow," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I sucked in a breath when a sob got stuck in my throat. Zac reached forward, gently grabbed my chin, and made me look up at him.

"It doesn't matter how far apart we are," he whispered. "I loved you when we were little, I love you now, and I will love you for the rest of my life. We can do this long-distance thing."

"Are you sure?" I stuttered. "Long-distance relationships are hard. I mean, they rarely ever work out. Other couples have tried, but. . ."

"They aren't us," he interrupted me with a soft smile on his lips. "I love you, Y/N, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep you in my life."

"You leave tomorrow," I said, my voice low.

"Then let's make tonight count," he said, smirking slightly at me.

I smiled before gently grabbing his cheeks and pressing my lips to his. As our lips moved in sync, Zac slowly laid us down on my rug. I ran my hands up his chest and ran my fingers through his hair. He moaned as I tugged slightly.

I pushed his computer that was still playing the movie away as our lips continued to move in sync. I moaned as he slipped his hand under my shirt, slowly dancing his fingers up my stomach.

Zac slid his tongue across my bottom lip, asking for entrance. The second I opened my mouth, his tongue started exploring every inch. I moaned as he immediately took dominance.

I pushed his chest, smirking at the confused look on his face as he stared down at me. I bit my bottom lip as I grabbed the bottom of his shirt and started sliding it up his chest. I tossed it aside as he smiled down at me.

He sat up, pulling me with him. I bit my lip nervously as he slowly slid my shirt over my head, tossing it next to his. Zac started to lean towards me, laying us both back down. As soon as my back hit the rug, he pressed his lips back to mine.

I moaned as Zac started slightly grinding his hips down against mine. When he started kissing my neck, I reached up and started undoing his jeans. I felt him smirk as he bit my collarbone, a moan escaping my lips.

I sucked in a breath and held it as Zac pulled away. My cheeks burned as Zac tore off his jeans and started taking off mine. He looked down at me, breathing heavily as he scanned my almost naked body. He looked back at my eyes, his smirk turning into a smile.

"I just want to make sure," he whispered, "that you really want to do this."

"Yes," I said instantly. "I want to do this, Zac. More than anything. I want to take this next step with you."

Zac smiled as he lowered himself, his face inches from mine. He rubbed his nose against mine, his breath hitting my face.

"I've wanted this for so long," he whispered. "And I'm going to make sure it's the perfect night."

"You really want to make this work?" I asked, shakily. He leaned back far enough for him to stare into my eyes.

"Y/N," he smirked. "Do you really think I'd be here, with you, the night before I leave if I didn't want to make this work?"

I blushed as he smiled at me, lust slowly creeping into his eyes. He reached up, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. "Y/N, I love you. I want to be with you. After you graduate high school, maybe you can come out to LA. We can live together and finally start our life together. Actually, let's start right now. Will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yes," I giggled, reaching up and wrapping my arms around his neck. "I love you, Zac."

"I love you too, Y/N."

He leaned down and instantly started moving his lips against mine, the kiss quickly getting heated. Goosebumps covered my body as Zac slid his hands under me. I arched my back, giving him the space he needed.

I sucked in a breath when he was able to unhook my bra. He broke the kiss and quickly yanked it off. I bit my lip as he looked down at my bare chest. When his eyes finally came back up to my eyes, he smiled at me before leaning down and pressing his lips to mine.

"You. . . Are. . . So. . . Beautiful," he moaned between kisses. He moved his lips and started kissing up and down my neck. I tilted my head, giving him better access.

As he continued to leave hickeys up and down my neck, I reached down and slid his boxers off. His lips started moving down my chest, pressing opened-mouth kisses in between my breasts. I moaned when he started massaging my breasts with his lips.

"Zac," I moaned as his tongue swiped across my nipple, hardening it. He pulled away, a popping sound echoing off my bedroom walls. He didn't look away from me as he reached down and slowly slid my underwear off, tossing them and making them land on top of his discarded boxers.

He was about to lean down, but I put my shaking hands on his bare chest, stopping him. "Zac, wait," I whispered.

"What is it?" He asked, tilting his head slightly. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," I said instantly. I nervously chewed my bottom lip as I remembered that this was about to be, not just our first time, but my first time.

"If you're worried about this being your first time, I don't want to pressure you," he instantly said, reading my mind. "I don't want to make you feel like I'm forcing you. I love you, Y/N, and I want to make you feel as beautiful as I know you are. I want to pleasure you, showing you how much you mean to me. If you want to stop, then we will."

"I don't want to stop," I said quickly. "I want to do this with you, Zac. I love you and I want you to be my first."

"I love you too," he smiled at me. "If I'm being too rough or going too far, just tell me and we'll stop. Okay?"

I nodded as I looked at my hands, still pressed to his bare chest. "That's not all," he said slowly when he saw the look on my face. "What else is going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

"I'm um. . . I think we. . ." I stuttered, embarrassed about what I was about to say. "I don't have protection."

Zac let out a small laugh as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my lips before pulling away and standing up. I sat up, wrapping my arms around my bare chest as I leaned against the end of my bed. I nervously chewed on my bottom lip as I watched Zac walk over to his pants.

I blushed, turning away when he bent down. I looked back over, my cheeks burning even more as I avoided looking him up and down. He sent me a smirk as he pulled a condom out of his wallet. I chuckled as I looked away.

Zac walked over and sat down. I gasped as he put his hand on my stomach and pushed me so I was laying on my back. He crawled on top of me, his eyes never leaving mine. I waited for him to hover over me, but instead, he knelt down, one knee on each side of me.

I nervously chewed on my bottom lip as he opened the condom and slipped it on. He smirked when he saw the redness on my cheeks. I gasped as he leaned down and grabbed my hands, putting them above my head.

I sucked in a breath as Zac leaned down and whispered, his lips grazing my ear. "What do you want, Y/N? Tell me and it's yours."

The way he said my name sent chills up and down my body. "I want," I stuttered. "I want you, Zac."

The second his name left my lips, I felt him push into me. I moaned at the pressure and the stretching of my walls. He took a shaky breath as he didn't move.

"Just relax, baby." He said, his voice soft and strained as he intertwined our fingers, still holding my hands above my head. "You'll adjust."

He waited patiently as he leaned his forehead against mine. I nodded, silently telling him I was ready for more. He grunted before starting to push in and out of me. His movements started out slow, but gradually got faster.

The faster he moved inside me, the quicker my breathing sped up. The world melted away as he continued to move his hips against mine, pulsing in and out of me.

"Zac," I moaned as my orgasm built.

"We have to be quiet, baby," he said with a small chuckle, breathing heavily. "Your parents are downstairs."

"True," I moaned as he pushed into me hard and pulled out of me slowly. "But they probably won't hear us over their arguing."

Zac looked down at me with a playful smirk on his face. He leaned down and roughly pressed his lips to mine, our lips moving messily in sync.

Zac pulled away from my already swollen lips without pulling out. I moaned as I noticed him watching me as he pushed in and out of me. The longer he watched my reaction, the more the tension between us built up. I closed my eyes when his lustful gaze got too much.

He started kissing down my chest, between my breasts, still rocking his hips against mine. "Holy shit, Zac," I moaned when I felt the pleasure build up.

"I like it when you moan my name," he smirked against my chest as he started sliding his hands down my arms. "It turns me on."

I arched my back, causing him to slip even deeper into me. "Damn, baby girl." He grunted as he grabbed my hips for stability. "You're so tight."

I moaned as he continued to push deeper and harder into me. I slid my hands up and down his arms, tightly squeezing them in sync with his grinding.

"What can I do for you?" I stuttered. "I want. . . I want to give you as much. . . Make you feel. . ."

He laughed, gently pressing his lips to mine. I grabbed his face, deepening the kiss. He pulled away and leaned his forehead against mine.

"You don't need to do anything, baby," hewhispered. "Just being with you is enough."

"But Zac," I moaned as he pulled out of me just to push back into me.

"Tell me how this feels," he grunted as he quickened his pace, turning the attention back to me.

"So good, baby." I moaned. "So fucking good, Zac. Holy shit!"

Zac roughly pressed his lips to mine, shoving his tongue into my mouth. Our tongues battled for dominance as he grabbed my thigh, wrapping my leg around his waist causing him to shove himself deeper into me.

"Fuck!" I moaned, pulling out of the kiss as he pressed against my g-spot.

"Damn," Zac groaned. "This feels so good, baby. I never thought. . ." A moan got stuck in his throat as I clenched my walls around his member.

"I'm close, baby," I moaned.

"Good," he grunted. "Cum for me, Y/N. Don't hold back. We'll do it together."

He pulled out of me, took a deep breath before quickly and roughly pushing into me. As he rocked his hips against mine, messily kissing me and causing another orgasm to build.

"Y/N," he moaned against my lips. "I love you."

When he said those three words, I arched my back and didn't hold back anymore. I wouldn't want to even if I could.

"Fuck," Zac moaned as he cummed shortly after I did. He pulled out of me and rolled off as we started to catch our breaths.

I closed my eyes, my heart beating against my chest. I bit my lip when I felt Zac reach over and grab my hand, instantly intertwining our fingers.

"I think that's why my parents never wanted us in my room with the door closed," I said under my breath, breaking the silence.

Zac laughed as he squeezed my hand. He pulled on it, rolling me over so I was pressed to his chest. I closed my eyes and cuddled into his chest.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered. I opened my eyes and looked up to see him already looking at me. "So much."

"I love you too, Zac."

He smiled as he pulled our intertwined hands over his heart. I leaned my head on his shoulder, snuggling into him even more. Zac reached down and pulled a blanket over us. He started rubbing his hand up and down my arm as our breaths finally went back to normal.

My eyes filled with tears as I thought about the fact that in a few short hours, we were going to have to say goodbye.

"Y/N," Zac whispered. "While I'm gone, I will be completely and a hundred percent faithful to you. You never have to worry about me cheating on you because I know that there is no one better for me than you. Now that we are together, I won't do anything to ruin it. I will spend all day thinking about you. I'll call you every night. I'll text you all day. We'll Skype every weekend. I'll come down to visit you and you'll come up to visit me. And when either of us visits the other, you and I will spend all day together and all night in each other's arms."

"Promise?"

He sat up, making me sit up too. I wrapped the blanket around my chest as I turned towards him. He reached forward and grabbed my chin, pressing his swollen lips to mine in a gentle kiss. He pulled away, smiling widely at me.

"I promise," he whispered. "I love you, Y/N."

I smiled as I leaned forward and pressed my lips back to his. I pulled back and rubbed my nose against his.

"I love you too, Zac."

[letsunity]

Not Afraid - Chapter 4

Summery -  

The Bad Batch go to Tatooine to resupply and avoid the Empire. As per the usual, Omega gets separated from the group. Fortunately for her, Krayt's Claw just so happens to be nearby. Bossk and Embo guide her to Boba Fett, who takes interest in why the Kaminoans want her. It's a reluctant partnership, with the Bad Batch having to rely on Krayt's Claw to navigate non-military life.

With some wandering around, Bossk managed to get them a job.

It wasn't anything big, but the pay was good enough - They could get rations, fuel, the essentials.

According to the client, someone is stealing from local farmers. All they have to do is catch them, get their reward and move on. With Hunter's tracking, it shouldn't be a difficult task to complete. They were only dealing with a thief, so Omega would be fine to tag along, which she was happy about.

Seeing how excited she was to join was sweet.

"Don't expect anything, laddies and lady. It goes to plan if you don't have one!" Bossk hissed, cocking his blaster with a grin.

"That doesn't make any sense," Echo countered, pulling a face at the reptile.

"Because you're thinking like a soldier," Bossk smirked, flicking Echo's head. "Plans seldom work. All you need is explosives, knowing what you're doing and instinct. Trust yourself, your abilities, and retreat to bring back more explosives."

"Sounds great!" Wrecker agreed, itching to blow something up. "You guys can get the col illegal stuff, right? We can make things go boom?" The reptile snorted, equally happy about explosions.

With them so happy, Hunter was curious about something. Why didn't they rent speeders to this location; why walk?

The only reason would be that Boba wanted them to see something.

"You wanna see something cool?" Boba asked Omega, having a confident smirk on his face.

He whistled loudly, changing the tune with a harsh rhythm like he was imitating a call. Bossk already knew, rolling his reptilian eyes at his nephew. He knew that it was to give the squirt something special, but still, he was showing off.

Omega waited, uncertain of why he made that noise. While waiting, she saw a wolf-like creature climb atop a hill. Several others appeared, though far darker than the main one. The white one slowly stalked towards them, sniffing warily.

Boba knelt, lightly guiding her hand out and upwards. There was tingling at her fingertips like there was an electrical charge coursing through her. The titanic canid stepped to her, their wet black nose brushing against her palm. In that brief touch, there was the spark of connection.

She could feel it, and it could feel her. It lowered its head into her hand, making eye contact through the helmet.

The wolf grunted towards Wrecker, Echo and Hunter, shaking their head. It grumbled, making several sounds towards them as the other wolves began to run away. With a stamp of its reptile-like paw, it barked and ran off, leaving them confused.

"The centre returned makes seven; burnt comes and makes it six. Anguished are the five, particularly the four. Soon to be three, suddenly two. One shines through, seven again," Bossk translated, thinking over the cryptic warning.

"That's incredibly ominous," Hunter stated, unsure of what to make of that.

"You always get stuff like that from them. It's part of their cryptic 'future sight' or whatever they call it," Boba shrugged, not overly bothered. "Other than the ominous warnings, they're cool to meet. Get them some Wookie meat, and they love you; they're obsessed with it."

-----------------

This new Empire seemed interesting. It didn't affect the Bounty Hunter's Guild, but it could prove profitable.

"Cad Bane. Am I right?" asked some stiff-upper-lip rookie.

Bane didn't care about them, not bothering to remember their name. Admiral Ram-whatever, it wasn't important.

"I prefer meeting on planets without incontinent clouds, Admiral. I don't like rain," Bane hissed, his distorted voice shivering the blank human. Humans had a habit of looking similar to one another. "My price is doubled for that alone."

"I understand, Mister Bane. I can assure you that you'll be incredibly well paid for," said Admiral Rampart, sitting across from the Duros. "There is a bounty on a child named Omega."

"Don't bother. That little brat Boba's probably already involved. At least with his father, you could make a deal, but the boy is annoyingly stubborn."

The kid wasn't popular because of that and was a pain in Bane's ass. His commitment to his rules was somewhat admirable, but it wasn't practical. Even with his little club, the jobs he'll get won't do him much good. He's not going to amount to much in the future.

"You misunderstand, Mister Bane. The Kaminoans want to capture her, and I suspect it's to encourage Tarkin to keep the cloning program. I want you to stop it."

"As I said, it's not worth the time. It doesn't matter where I go; the brat will follow. I'd lead him straight to you, meaning I lose credits."

"I don't want you to capture her, Mister Bane. I want you to kill her."

"Now, that's far simpler. That's triple my pay, but if you'd like, I'll bring you the skin like a rug."

"No, I only need her eliminated. The cloning program must end. To assist you, I'll have my best team to work alongside you. CT-9904 will follow your orders without question, and the other three will follow his example. If this 'Boba' gets in the way, kill him."

"Bounty hunter's aren't allowed to kill each other. I can certainly maim him, though. Give me some credits upfront, some immunity, and I'll bring you her head on a platter."

This was going to be easy.

With the weird female clone out of the picture, project War Mantle will be ahead of schedule. The Empire can grow and prosper without the expensive republican remnants. Unfortunately for this Bane fellow, he couldn't be in the picture afterwards. When the girl was dead, 9904 will kill the hunter as well.

Nobody will know that she existed or mattered. Even with this 'Boba' character, he doubted that things would go wrong. It's only a matter of time.

---------------

Meeting the wolves were amazing; the white one was soft and warm.

Omega liked the feeling of the grass against her hands, picking a few to inspect them.

While fascinated by the blades of green, she failed to see a nearby Loth-cat. It hissed and lunged at her, its fur raised and bristled.

Instinctively, Hunter aimed his blaster at the animal. It growled, the creature deceptively savage. Boba got on one knee and took some dried meat from his pocket, encouraging the animal to approach.

It hesitantly stepped forward, its pupils widening. It licked his hand then took the meat, backing away from whence it came. It climbed down a hole, poking its head back up again some moments later. Three minuscule heads popped up, chirping at the newcomers. It's only a mother protecting her kits.

Wrecker got down, wanting to have a go as well. Boba handed him some meat, motioning for it to come again. This time, one of the kits investigated, sniffing the food. The mother joined, then the other two kittens.

The family of feral animals chewed the meat, unusually passive and docile.

Omega lightly stroked one of the kittens, amazed by the feeling of their fur. Wrecker grinned, his gloved hand licked by the other two kits.

"Can we keep 'em?" Wrecker begged, looking at Hunter with puppy eyes.

"This is their home," Hunter answered, letting him down easy. "This is where they want to be, so this is where they'll stay."

First, it was reading their emotions, and now communicating with animals. It stank of force-sensitivity, even though he doubted it.

They skipped back into their hole, chirping at them as they passed. Omega waved goodbye, excited to see even more animals.

"How do you do that?" She asked, eager to learn it herself.

"Instinct. Mandalorians are raised from birth to trust themselves, to trust what their gut tells them. It told me that she was only protecting her babies, nothing malicious. You'll learn someday."

"I want to meet all kinds of creatures!"

"There's no limit to what you'll see in this galaxy, Megs," Bossk assured, ruffling the helmet she wore. "So long as Dad Batch are right next to ya."

"We're not the Dad Batch," Echo corrected, although he didn't sound so certain.

"Dad Batch or Bro Batch, either's good with me!" Wrecker smiled, slapping Bossk's shoulder. "We need a fight!" The Trandoshan snarled in agreement, eager to bruise the clone.

They were only a few minutes away from the farm, and in three hours, dusk would begin to set. The more Hunter hung with these odd pair, the more they grew on him. They were capable of skinning folk alive but having that protecting Omega was alright.

Boba was showing Omega a lot of things, even giving her his helmet. He was only three or four years older than her; he had a lot to teach. He was good with kids, too, something Hunter was still learning.

Then there was Bossk's nickname, Dad Batch. Hunter was mimicking what Cut did, so was he being a father to Omega? He never thought of being a parent before, but the past two weeks were unexpected. Maybe he could be a dad to her, be someone to look after her as she deserved.

Not only would Hunter learn a lot about being a mercenary, but interacting with children, too.

-----------------

Saw looked over the bodies, the stench of burnt flesh searing his nostrils. His face scrunched in rage, practically seizing with pure rage.

"I'm sorry, sir, but none survived," Lorc sighed, shaking his head. "They were all wiped out. Not just that, but the dead trooper's wounds are the same as our departed. Friendly fire, presumably."

"Which damned clone was it?"

"That's the issue. It wasn't a clone; it was a random guy in clone armour," Edrio continued, confusing the man. "We've estimated five to have been shot by precise skills matching a clone. The rest were random people. The damage indicates a distance, probably a sniper."

"I know who did it," Saw spat, looking away from the burned bodies. "And we're going to make him pay for it. I want the Bad Batch; I want the one that killed these people as though they were swine. We'll make him suffer for this."

"He and the empire, sir," Mari agreed, charging her rifle.

Saw would destroy this empire, even if it killed him.

--------------------

The farmer was both overjoyed and miserable.

The thief stole food and much of his equipment, most of which she can't replace due to financial struggles. Bossk terrified his Tooka cat, and Wrecker kept bumping his head on the ceiling. Being the second smallest, Boba wasn't concerned with the Toydarian's accommodations.

"Every night, the loth-rat takes more and more. I've set up traps, boobytraps, I even bought a droid, but they stole all of it!" She cried, hovering in distress. "I need them gone. I don't care what you do with them, so long as they leave us be."

"How're you going to pay?" Bossk asked, getting an elbow to the side from Echo. "If you want to afford rations, this is how."

"The local farmers have pitched in. The most we can do is fifteen thousand credits," she sighed, slowly drifting onto a chair. "Our crops haven't done well this year. That war has stripped the galaxy of life; even the planets are too exhausted from it."

"We'll take half," Boba decided, much to Bossk's annoyance. "Lothal's yaim par pirates bal smugglers. Vi ne'waadas eyn sur'haai olar," he added in a strange language, getting a grunt in response.

From the sounds of it, that was Mando'a, the tongue of Mandalorians. Hunter wasn't the best at languages; Tech was more specialised for that.

"By the light of Lothal's moons, you're a blessing to this valley," she whimpered, wiping her eyes. "We wish you luck on this bounty, Fetts."

Plural?

"I'm his uncle," Bossk explained to the confused four, patting Boba's shoulder and glancing at the Toydarian. "We'll make sure that they won't come again."

And so, the quest is on. Find the thief, get paid and get the hell off of Lothal. Omega was happy to be tagging along, asking about boobytraps and the sort. Wrecker picked her up, concerned that she was getting tired from the walking.

Echo would rather have stayed with Highslinger, but walking alone at night wasn't a good idea. Bossk took notice of his hesitancy, snorting for the clone's attention.

"I'm assuming it's all Techno Union?" Echo nodded at the question, the lack of feeling in his 'legs' creeping through his spine. What was left of 'his' spine. "We know a gal who can help with that. She fixes Dengar and Highslinger up after jobs. A friend of Omega's is a friend of ours."

"I'll have to take you up on that. I'd be happier to leave this all back on Skako Minor."

"We can blow it up if that'll ease the anguish."

"Did I hear blow up?" Wrecker interrupted, practically shaking from excitement. "What's going boom?"

"Nothing for now," Echo sighed, shaking his head. "You're going to drop Omega."

"I'm fine!" She assured, gripping onto Wrecker's armour. "Your eyes are pretty."

"Thank you," Bossk said, making a mixture of a chirp and purr in response. "You're a lovely young lady yourself. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, Lil Mega."

Ever since meeting Hunter, things just got better for Omega. She had Clone Force 99 and now Krayt's Claw, an odd but loving family of misfits. They made her feel special, more than just a mere assistant or failed experiment. Bossk talked to her like she was an equal, as did the others.

Being around them only added to the coldness of Kamino. They didn't show nearly the compassion Bossk did, and he'd only known her two days or so. Hunter, Echo, Wrecker and Tech were more family than the Kaminoans ever were, and she wanted it to stay that way.

Even though Crosshair was under the chip, she wanted to get to know him. The lads missed him, and she wanted to know who he really was. Not what the chip made him into or was making him do.

With Boba and his gang, it should be a whole lot easier to help him.

Far away, sitting atop a pile of stones, Fennec lowered her rifle.