#like he could lay anywhere else on the recliner

[booclover]

Momoo was taking a nap on their side but I want cuddles...so I lay on top of them!

Perfect.

What?

[live-laugh-lenney]

Hi, you are literally the best Clarkeey writer I've seen and I love you for that sm! Please can we get some more fluffy smut for george?

thank you, thank you! i love you! <33 CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT.

sometimes, george just craves closeness.

he longs for intimacy, he longs for the comfort, and he longs for the gentle atmosphere that comes with it. where he is always surrounded by the male gender, living with the two arthur's and chris, he's used to the boisterous and noisy behaviour that comes along with them all living together... so when he finally gets the escape at yn's flat, he just drinks it in. he's thankful for it. the peace, the cosiness, the loving and soft atmosphere making him never want to leave.

and he loves it there.

knowing that she lives alone and it's her own space without someone else to make him feel awkward. knowing that they'll never be rudely interrupted by others wandering around and not knowing what the word privacy means. knowing that it's just the two of them and only them in the flat with no nosey occupants there to listen in to what the two of them were up to. he could lay on her sofa and watch what he wanted on the television when she occupied herself with her chores and her errands. he could eat what he wanted. he could rummage in her cupboards and eat the biscuits she had or each the fruit she had on her kitchen counter. he could walk around in his comfy clothes or just his boxers and not need to worry someone would see him.

it was just her.

and she made the flat hers.

she had canvas prints and tapestries hung around in the bare corners of her living room, fairy lights hanging on the many shelves she had on her walls, candles in every room an an oil burner to accompany it with the same smells being given off by the heat, lots of family photos hung on the walls and photos of himself and her in photo frames on her windowsill and on her bedside table. a television on the wall and a reclining sofa with the softest throw blanket draped over the back that he absolutely loves and fell victim the the warmth it gave when he laid beneath it.

her bedroom was almost the same as her living space. with a double bed and plenty of decorative pillows (and a teddy bear, holding a love heart, that he had brought her for their very first valentines day), an en-suite bathroom, and a window that overlooked london - which he says he could sit and stare at all day. her bedroom walls painted with the colours of the sunset on the good days.

and he loves the vibe it gives. cosy, warm, full of love.

on particular nights, moreso the nights where his days had been busy and he hadn't been able to sit down and have time to himself, all he wants is her.

his yn.

and, as if their feelings were synced up and as if she knows that he's had a long and tiring day without speaking to him, she wants him.

in a way that's sensual. almost animalistic. like it's all that can suffice their feelings on the inside. as soon as he steps foot through her door and before he can kick off his shoes, in the middle of taking off his jacket, and she's attached to his front. hands cupping his cheeks, his stubble tickling her upper lip and his beard scratching her chin, and he can't tear himself away. stumbling in the direction of the sofa, not the bedroom, because they're desperate. craving the pleasure that the other can give. in dire need of something.

and he would take it in any form.

letting it happen anywhere that they felt comfortable.

a blowjob. a handjob. his head between her legs. cowgirl. missionary. on the floor. against the wall. on the kitchen counter. neither of them really cared, just as long as they were happy. her legs around his waist, hands on her bum, arms around his neck, fingers twisting into the tufts of hair at the back of his head.

"i missed you."

it was mumbled against her lips, almost completely incoherent, but she knows what he says.

"you saw me yesterday, doofus," her lips are swollen, his cheeks are flushed pink, and the ache between her legs was positively pulsing as soon as she made eye contact with him, "you miss me that much?"

he nods, almost pathetically, and she smiles ever so softly. her thumb brushing over the skin of his cheek as her other hand combed the brown locks on his head, their breathing rhythmic as their exhaled breaths mixed between the two of them.

"always. hate it when we're apart," he practically whines it out and she feels her heart flutter, "love to be with you. next to you. sleeping with you and sleeping with you."

she smirks and he feels the sofa against the back of his bare legs. his chino shorts feeling tight against his crotch as they stretched across the bulge forming behind the material. her legs unhooking from his waist so he could sit himself down but his hands stay firm to her hips. there was no way he was letting her get off.

"right here?"

he nods to her question and she's quick to attach her fingers to the button of his shorts, unbuttoning the button and unzipping his zip, tips of her fingers tucking beneath the waistband and his hands leave her hips for a moment, just so he could push himself up so she could pull his shorts, as well as his boxers, down. far enough down his legs to free the boner that was silently begging for release.

"are you sure?"

"baby, yes. christ," he murmurs and his hands are back at her hips, hoisting the oversized jumper (which he was sure had come from his wardrobe) up her figure, hooking his thumbs into the sleep shorts on her lower body and pulling them down with ease, "i need you. right now."

her hand wraps around the girth of his cock, thumb brushing over the tip, and he could feel himself ready to burst under her touch. a soft whimper rolling off his tongue, head rolling back, and his hips buck up to the feeling of her warm palm.

"right now?"

"baby," he chokes out, "come on. don't tease me now."

"but it's so fun," she hums softly and he rolls his eyes dramatically, feeling the fingers on one of his hands tickle up her thigh and stop in between her the flesh of her legs, the tips of his fingers dangerously close to where she wanted to feel him, "i'm sorry."

"you're lucky you're just so damn irresistible," he murmurs, brushing his fingers over where she needed him the most, toes twitching at the feeling of the tips of his fingers nudging the bundle of nerves, "like that?"

she hums in delight and bites down on her bottom lip, stopping her hips from moving as she let him do the work, keeping her attention on his cock in her hand. jerking up and down, up and down, as a short form of foreplay before the real thing... not that either of them ever needed a warm-up. he was always rock solid for her and she was always soaked for him.

neither of them need to ask the other if they were ready... his hand takes over from hers, giving himself a few pumps with his wrist, and he takes it upon himself to line up the tip of his cock to the heat of her folds, filling her up and letting her take control of the motions. a shiver running down his spine and a gentle moan leaving her mouth as she takes him in, deep and hitting right at the spot that makes her quiver for him.

and he would be lying if he said he didn't go weak at the knees with the sounds she made.

the grunts, the moans, the whimpers, the soft profanities when he bucked his hips up to meet her movements. her hands tugging on his hair as he covered her neck with kisses, letting his mouth leave a line of wet pecks alongside the occasional hickey that he had gotten a little too carried away in leaving behind. her thighs tensing and shaking, her grinding motions falling sloppy as she felt more and more tired.

"i need-"

"me too," she admits and he lifts his head from her collarbone, lips shining with saliva, and he has a deep and dark, lust-filled look in his eyes that told her exactly what he needed, "me too."

"together?"

she nods and his hands grip tighter to the flesh of her hips, nails deep in her skin, and she can't resist letting herself go. head rolling back as she grunts out her orgasm, loud and satisfied, with george's orgasm filling her up. his own moans mixing with her hers as their movement sounded sloppy and wet, her body convulsing on top of him.

and they sit, in a comfortable silence, that wasn't proper silence due to the rise and fall of their chests as they inhaled and exhaled tiredly.

"good?"

"so good," he grins tiredly and her arms wrap around his neck, pulling herself closer to him, holding him tightly in a hug, "always."

"always?"

"always," he reiterates and he closes his eyes in contentment, "nice to actually be loud."

her cheeks redden and she's glad he can't properly see her because he would have teased her like there was no tomorrow; but, she had to agree with him. be free in her own home, no need to be quiet, and it felt good to take in everything instead of rushing to get their clothes back on in case someone walked in during their post-sex haze.

"you're the best."

"nah," she shakes her head and looks at him, giving his lips a quick peck, "you're the best."

"i love you," he brings his hands up and brings her face closer to his so he could leave kiss after kiss after kiss on her lips, "i love you so so much."

"sex makes you soppy," she teases him and he frowns, "but i love you too. so so so much."

if you made it this far, thank youuuuu! always love the soft smut you guys make me write... blessed to have someone enjoy it as much as you guys do! xx

[prettygirl-gabi]

Darl+ling You

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: Fluff, mention of lung surgery, hospital, care giving (mainly from S.coups), recovery, mention of 2521 ( a realistic k-drama that broke me to pieces) Happy ending I swear!!

Category:F/M

Fandom: Seventeen (SVT) (boyband)

Relationships: !Idol-boyfriend S.coups x !f non-idol reader

Summary: You are going through something that is going to be very life changing for you and S.coups, but you try to keep pushing for him, yourself and everyone else.

P.s. this is based off my current experience with being sick, and I just wanted to write about it with one of my comfort idols. S.coups, but mainly all of svt, and a few more kpop groups and idols have been keeping me out of a dark place since I've been diagnosed with my chronic histoplasmosis disease in my left lung.

ScScScScScScScScScScScScScScSc

As you lay in your hospital bed, weak and vulnerable after the lung surgery, S.Coups never left your side. He held your hand tightly, providing comfort through his mere presence when he could be there.

"Hey babe, how are you feeling?" S.coups said as he gently brush your wild hair out of the way. You smile softly, yet full of pain that can be seen. "Ugh... I'm in pain but having you here makes it bearable."

S.Coups pout slightly as he puts your hair in a silk bonnet that look brand new. "I'm not going anywhere; I'll be right here with you until you're back on your feet."

Throughout your time together at the hospital, S.Coups took on various roles - caregiver, cheerleader, and confidant. He made sure you, his darling Y/n followed all medical instructions while also showering you with love and affection.

"Ya, Y/n don't forget to take your medication on time; it will help speed up your recovery." He says in a soft tone as he breaks your pill in half so it'll be easier for you to swallow.

You roll your eyes at him with a cheesy grin on your face. "I hate taking pills... but if it means getting better sooner so we can go on that vacation we planned... I maybe can make an exception."

"Exactly! We have so many adventures waiting for us once you're fully recovered... plus I owe you front row seats to our concert that's coming to town soon, and the boys really want to see you." He stated as he sat one the recliner that was in your room.

Slowly as the weeks progressed with you getting better the conversations were filled with laughter, and light banter as you reminisced about past memories; plus shared dreams for the future. You loved how he found a way to take time off... to fly to the hospital that you had surgery at during his busy schedule all for you.

One evening while watching Twenty-five, Twenty-one together; your eyes filled with tears as you thought about the uncertainty of her condition.

Pausing the show, you sit up with tears in your eyes. "What if something goes wrong, Seungcheol?" You asked as you look at the wires and medical machines you were hooked to.. trying to contain the tears that weren't fully out of your eyes. "What...what if it comes back but worse like the doctor said it would if they didn't... they didn't get it all out of me."

S.Coups quckily shushed you and pull you closer into his body as he laid in the hospital bed with you. "Hey, hey, hey darling..don't think like that. You're strong, and we'll get through this together. I love you... Y/n my sweet darling, and I made a promise to you when we made us official, baby. Thorough thick and thin, me and you til the end... princess."

You sighed as you look in his eyes for any tells of him lying to you, but giving in once he kisses the tip of your nose. "I love you too, and I thank you for all that you have done for me while being a busy man for yourself." You say as you try to catch your breath once again for the 3rd time that day.

He just shushed you once more in a caring yet loving way, and turned Twenty-five, Twenty-one back on. "Let's focus on Na Hee-do and Baek Yi-jin for now, yeah." He stated as he wiped your tears and kissed your left temple.

S.Coups' unwavering support and reassuring words provided you with the strength to face your fears head-on. As days turned into weeks, the growth of your health gradually improved, thanks to S.Coups' constant care and encouragement... even with his busy schedule as an idol.

Finally, the day arrived when you were discharged from the hospital. S.Coups couldn't hide his excitement as he helped you and your mom who was also taking rotation shifts with him pack your belongings.

S.Coups pushes you in the wheelchair to the car as he thinks about what he is planning to feed you when your mom isn't feeding you what she has cooked with love for you. "No more hospital food! We can finally enjoy your favorite homemade meals again."

You shook your head with a chuckle as you both reach the car. "And no more uncomfortable beds! I can't wait to sleep in my old yet still cozy bed." You state as you get in your moms freshly cleaned car to head to your childhood home to recover properly, and safely.

You and S.Coups knew that your love had triumphed over adversity, and so much more. The both of you were ready to face whatever challenges life threw your way, knowing that together the both of you could conquer anything, especially with the love, and care you had for each other.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

Thank you for reading! 🩵🩶

-Mrs.Cody-Song

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 15

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, car sex, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Lloyd drops the bags in the trunk before he comes around the driver’s side. A concrete pillar makes your entrance difficult and you snap the door shut in frustration. You’re as agitated with yourself as with him. Flirting with those girls and you let it get to you. Enough to do that in there!

He lowers himself into his seat, a smug curve in his lips. God, you could smack him so hard. Your hand balls as you watch him adjust the mirror. He’s such a fucking douchebag. You hate him and his tacky mustache. Just looking at it you can feel it against your–

You huff and take a breath, the heat bristling up your neck. What’s wrong with you? How can you be so angry and so fucking needy at the same time? You want chocolate, you want a pickle, you want to sleep, you want to kick him in the balls, but right now there’s only one option.

You lean over and grab the level on the side of his seat. He lets out a surprised noise as it reclines and he goes with it. You grunt as you push yourself up awkwardly and turn to maneuver yourself through the tight space. With your stomach, and your ever large ass, it’s a close squeeze as you straddle him under you.

“Woah, peaches, what’s gotten into you–” he sputters as you pull down your leggings.

“If you don’t let me fuck you, I’m going to strangle you to death,” you snarl, “so please, shut up and let me do what I need to do.”

You raise yourself and feel along his fly, tugging it down impatiently. His hands rest on your hips as he watches you, his lips slightly parted in a delighted smirk. You snarl and spread his pants, jerking them down his hips as he lifts his pelvis in compliance.

“You know, you can still choke me a little,” he snickers.

“Shut it,” you say as you reach into his pants and pull him out, stroking him until he squirms.

“Jeez, babe, you gotta treat me like more than a piece of meat–”

“What do you think you are to me?” You hiss and cover his mouth with your hand, “now be good for me and hush.”

You line him up with your cunt and slide onto him. You let out a sigh and bite down on your lip as you grunt. Fuck, that’s exactly what you need. You grab his hand and shove it down to your cunt, bending his fingers against your clit as you start to rock.

“That’s it, that’s the fucking angle,” you close your eyes, tilting your chin back, “fuck, yeah…” 

You purr as his breaths cloud around you in the cramped space. You recede into your mind, moaning as you let the lust carry your way. You can’t be there in that car fucking this man, pregnant and bloated. No, you’re anywhere else, with someone you love, someone who loves you, wants you, needs you. Not some jackass who flirts right in front of your face.

You shudder as a memory rises, tainted but pleasant. That night Colin proposed, up in the national park, the ring on your finger as you lay in the back seat, the car rocking as the thrill of being caught nips in your cheeks. You were so happy then, you loved him so much, and you still believe he loved you then. Even if it all fell apart in the end.

“Colin, oh Col,” you purr as you press your hand firmly against the mouth, “Colin, yeah, I’m gonna…” 

You growl and cum as you keep your other hand around his, working his fingers against your bud until you're quivering and clenching. He rips his hand free and suddenly you hit the wheel as he shoves you. The impact rings in your spine.

“Get the fuck off of me,” Lloyd snarls, “now.”

You realise your mistake. Did you really say it out loud? His name? Colin. Your ex. The cheater. The man who broke your heart. What the fuck is wrong with you?

You lift yourself off of him and he pushes you again. You fall against the passenger side as he hits the ignition button and grips the wheel. He sneers as he reverses out, the motion hurling you against the door. You shimmy up the leggings as the tires skid.

“Fucking slut,” he grits out, “I give you fucking everything and–”

He suppresses the words to a low rumble. He’s silent as he stops at the end of the row and flips on the stereo without looking. Def Leppard wails from the speakers as he veers around the pillar and up the ramp. You buckle your seat belt and stare out the window.

He gave an inch, you took a mile, and he’ll be sure to snatch it back.

💎

You get home as the tension bubbles to the boiling point. Lloyd doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you as he swipes up the shopping bags and marches up the front steps. You trail him, hardly able to keep up.

Inside, he hurries upstairs and you don’t bother following. The best thing you can do is leave him alone. You’ve fucked up, you know it, you feel it jabbing in your chest. Why did you do that? Why did you have to think of Colin? And then just blurt it out?

You just wanted to feel love. That’s all. Some closeness that was more than rutting and cumming. Lloyd isn’t capable of that. He can say sweet things when he wants something, but it’s never genuine. Look at him, right that moment, nursing a bruised ego, not a wounded heart.

You go into the kitchen and take out the leftover pasta from the day before. You pick at it, simmering in your shame and regret. He can use you all he wants but you do the same and you’re a whore. He can humiliate you in front of some Victoria Secret associates but you can’t just pretend that someone actually cares.

You don’t care. You let it out. The tears roll down and add a salty tinge to your meal, eaten over the plastic container without a second thought. You finish and wash out the tupperware and tuck it away. 

You linger in the doorway, uncertain what to do. You don’t want to go upstairs, you don’t want to see him and face the truth. You’re not over Colin and you’ll never be happy here. But you’re trapped, there’s no choice.

You lean heavily and touch your stomach. Unless he changes his mind. Unless Lloyd decides to toss you out, knocked up and poor, hopeless. You mop up your tears and force a breath into your lungs.

A sudden thwap shatters your self-pity. You go out and look at the duffel bag at the bottom of the stairs, the same one you arrived with. That very first day you came to this place. You peer up the stairs as Lloyd stomps down, strides lithe and determined.

As he gets to your level, he kicks the bag and slides against the door. He stomps after it and toes it aside as he swings open the door.

“Alright, sweetheart, you had your fun, go on back to the deadbeat,” he puts a hand on his hip as his other grips the handle tight, “don’t got all night.”

His jaw squares as he stares at the wall, refusing to look at you. You gulp and suck in your cheeks. Fine, he can kick you out but you’re not going to cry for him. Never him. He’s not worth all that.

You near slowly and stop to grab your shoes from where he left them. He swiftly kicks them out of your reach and blocks you from taking your jacket. He snaps his fingers and points through the door.

“Everything you brought is in there,” he jabs his finger downward, “buh bye.”

You watch him. He eludes your gaze and you shake your head. No, you’re not going to beg forgiveness. Not from him. You bend down and pick up the bag. You hook your elbow through the handles but the door slams shut before you can pass through it.

“Fuck you!” He snarls as he snatches the bag off your arm, “fuck you, peaches! You’re just gonna leave? Without a goodbye? Without anything?”

“Lloyd, you–”

“You’re supposed to stay. You’re supposed to get down on your knees and beg,” he grabs your shoulders and shakes you, “you’re not supposed to say his fucking name. You’re not supposed to think of him anymore!”

You grasp his wrists as your brain rattles. You stop him, squeezing his arms gently, “Lloyd, please… I can’t… just shut that part of me off.”

“The fuck you can’t,” he barks as he turns you, pinning you to the door, “Mrs. Shea is dead, you got it? Don’t make me pay another visit to the shithead.”

He sneers at you, your eyes meeting as your lip trembles. You nod as your temples pulse and your ears ring, “I’m sorry.”

He exhales through his nose as he brows knit, “I’m gonna make you fucking sorry, peaches. I’m gonna fuck the memory of that cuck right out of your fucking skull,” he slips free of your grasp and clamps your head between his hands, “just like old times, huh? Knees,” he digs his nails into your scalp, pushing you downward, “now.”

[starlightsearches]

HELLO BESTIE! First of all congrats on the 2k!! also it's crazy for me to think that we've been through many blorbos together already!? anyway, excuse me requesting a bunch of things lmao! May I request track 1 with Eddie Munson, please? thank you!!

Track 1: Crimson and Clover by Tommy James and the Shondells: Give me a character and I'll write a short blurb or headcanons on how they would pine for you. 

Eddie Munson x GN! Reader

Thank you for the request, Irma!! I think we've got to be besties for life at this point since our tastes are so closely matched 💖

📼✨ mixtape milestone ✨📼 requests are still open!

Eddie Munson is a dyed in the wool, true blue, fucking heart-eyes, captial "R" romantic

He just feels everything a lot harder than other people, you know?

He's always been that way, ever since he was a kid. And his skin may be tougher, but words get sharper.

Eddie's kind of living in his own world—the one he's always building inside his head

It came in handy when he was younger, a place to go when his dad was doing fucked up shit

It comes in handy now, too.

Because he's just so fucking bored, and lonely, and anywhere is better than Hawkins

And god damn if you don't fit in his world perfectly

Love at first sight is a little strong, even for Eddie

But there's hope at first sight.

There's what if? at first sight.

Fuck it. You might be a dick like the rest of them, might treat him like shit because Jason or somebody gave you the idea that you should before Eddie could say a word

But you'll be nice to him in his head

Eddie starts thinking about you in doses

Thinks about making a joke that gets you to laugh, or having you smile at him

Even though he tries to curb himself, you're popping up more and more

Eddie watches you

He literally can't help it

It's just that his eyes find you on their own, like they're looking for material, saving up for all those hours he's gonna spend reclining on his bed with his head propped in his hands and a cigarette between his lips

And then it all comes back to him while he stares down the ceiling, thinking about stuff that makes him flush so hard he gets lightheaded

Stupid stuff. Kid stuff, even. Like holding your hand. Or putting his arm around your waist. Watching a movie on his couch and having you lay your head on his shoulder.

And sometimes, not-so-kid stuff.

He's filled with shame every time he thinks about it, how weird it is he so sure what you'd look like if he made you cum when he's never said a word to you

No matter how smooth he is in his daydreams, he's a fuckup in the real world, where everybody else lives

If you notice him, Eddie's whole brain shuts off

Like, he can hear it powering down and he wonders if you can too

Even if you're just passing him a pencil in class, or sending a quick sorry his way after bumping into him in the halls . . .

He's replaying the moment in his mind on repeat

Did he smile at you? Had he said something, or was it just, like, a weird moan?

Whatever. It doesn't matter.

Except when he's thinking about everything he could have done instead. Any way he could have gotten you to think about him. To like him.

But he's learned one thing now. You were nice to him.

And not just in his head.

[al-live]

A Wash in Thyme. A strange mid summer nights dream. Summer 2021. Part (3/3)

In the gratto, on damp stone floors, we collect into a formation. I am in a realm outside my own understanding but feel no nefarious intention from this person. They stand behind me, respectfully, and there is a slim, tall bird bath-like thing next to us. In it, is a bowl- like scalloped china- holding a concoction I cannot yet make out.

First, I am anointed. It smells oily but clean and green as he drew a line across my forehead. He then poured some of it on me- with the dress on. I feel it running down my back soaking through to my skin. He puts the bowl down and scoops by hand now, pouring hand fulls of water carefully on my shoulders but it runs off before it gets too far. Where was I? How did I get here? Who was this strange man and what was this…ritual of theirs? I was at complete ease. I could feel that I never wanted to be anywhere else for all of the rest of time. He should never be too far from me and yet I knew he truly was only trying to help me in some way and was careful to distance himself from me as well as the situation at hand so not to get too involved or exposed outside of his dwelling.

He pours another hand full on my shoulder and tries to massage the water down my upper arm quickly before it runs off. and I reach back and grab his left hand. The scene of it all was so strange and I was compelled to- just to touch him. He isnt passive and he takes my hand and continues to work with only his right. A mirror like vision of myself appears before us and I think that I must look a mess. He pours the water on my hair and he massages it in tenderly. I try and smooth the edge of my hair line and beautiful spirals as numerous as those of Vincent Van Gophs brush strokes in a Starry Night spring from the resiliant locks.

I lean forward to see what the water was. It was green with a bit of olive oil and grassy with maybe small heads of tiny light pinkish flowers in it. No, not grassy…Mostly, It was thyme. I cupped a handfull of the herbal bath to help clean my fore arms where he couldnt reach without feeling invasive and then poured down the front of my collarbones and dress. He grabs a hand full more and gently rubs it in to the side of my face making sure to collect and wipe away the thyme as he goes now.

He continues with my hair and I can feel its wait change like hair does when it floats on foam and suds even just with the herbal bath. As I finish messing with some stray waves and spirals, I thought, I didnt look too bad for running through the woods in peril but that I didnt look like my self. I feel the weight of clean rinsed hair and then I feel his finger curling, carefully, around a small chunk of hair and laying it forward on top of my right brow and eye like it was beautiful there.

Too soon, I was done, and he was present yet very resigned. His core goal still intact. He wanted to lead me away from the structure back to safety. We just had to leave now. My hunters were still in it, the man told me. I think, Maybe they were lost?

I followed him with the attachment of unmoving trust, relinquishing control of my safety to this otherworldly, incredidible person. Quietly- diligently, he led me through the rooms and door ways from which we'd come and then some. He grabs my hand, making sure I am with him as we quicken our pace and then he let it go and stilled to focus.

We heard a creek.

We sensed the women near by. I didnt look to him. I looked to a pile of towels and blankets between the side of an old, broken, pale blue recliner and a wall. They exchanged words from different rooms. He is concealing my presence and I stayed quiet. I didn't think I could hide this time but I fled to the pile and let it swallow me up. I peek out.

She comes in and he plays it cool. She cant tell if he knows me or not. She looks around a bit from where she stood. Bless him, he was strong and relaxed. More words are exchanged and when she is distracted, I run and she catches only my shadow as I find my way out of the structure, through the woods, and down the hill once more. Whether I had alluded her all together or just for moment I could not tell and it will never be known.

because a rowdy neighbour woke me.

[hallowgracie]

Crystal Magic: First Sight

“I didn’t know where else to put him.” Gwynn removed her boots by the door. “He only had the one cut. I think he fell off of one of the seats in the capsule and hit his head on impact.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Sorrel kicked off her boots and removed her coveralls. There was a relief to just wearing her camisole and shorts. There was no more grime from the junkyard, no more bundling up to fight against the winter cold—just comfort. 

“I hope so.” Gwynn bit her lip. “He’s been out a little longer than I thought he’d be.”

Right on cue, the boy stirred. 

“Oh!” Sorrel dashed over to where he lay on the window seat, a strip of gauze taped at the back of his head. 

He blinked up at her with indigo blue eyes. “Where—where am I?”

Sorrel glanced over her shoulder. Gwynn had joined her like her own shadow, silently and without asking. “You’re safe now, you weren’t awake at the crash site.”

“Crash?” He sat up quickly, only to wince and slowly recline. “Ow.”

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Gwynn asked.

“Just my head, I think.” He propped himself up on his elbows—a happy medium, Sorrel supposed. He looked to the sisters again. “I crashed?”

Gwynn and Sorrel shared a glance. 

“It makes sense you wouldn’t remember, you hit your head pretty hard,” Sorrel said. “But yeah—you ejected your escape capsule and it landed right in the middle of the junkyard where we were working. You were lucky you didn’t crash into the middle of a street or something.”

“You almost crashed into us,” Gwynn muttered as she retrieved her first-aid kit out from the pouch around her waist. 

“Oh, did I? Sorry.” His cheeks turned pink. “I think I remember now. . . Where is my ship?” 

“We don’t know,” Sorrel said. “But when we saw Annwynese war ships show up in the atmosphere, we thought it was better to get you out of there. So we took you home, where we can come up with a better plan.”

“There’s no ‘we’ here.” His voice was gentle but firm, and he sat up all the way, swinging his legs down to the floor. He gripped the side of the bench, bracing himself. “I’m sorry you’ve all gotten mixed up in this, but this isn’t your fight. They’re here for me. I just need to get off this world, and they’ll leave everyone alone—“

“No can do,” Sorrel interrupted. She folded her arms, moving to stand in front of him. “The Annwynese formed a blockade and the Governor’s banned anyone from trying to enter or leave until they get what they want.”

“That. . . makes things more tricky.” The boy looked at her. “Where are we, again?”

“Oh, right, never mentioned the world!“ Sorrel smacked her forehead. “You’re on Perrault, in Hoffman—if you’re familiar with Perrault?”

“Vaguely.” He nodded. “Who are you? I want to thank you. Even if I’d rather others weren’t involved, you did save my life.”

“Sorrel and Gwynn Marchand.” Sorrel gestured at her sister. “You’re in our family’s bed-and-breakfast. We smuggled you in, though, so no one knows you’re here. Well, except for our mother.”

“You—Marchand?” He tilted his head. “I recognize the name.”

“I guess it would be hard not to.” Sorrel shrugged. “There’s lots of us on Perrault.”

“We’re one of the oldest families who’ve lived here,” Gwynn said. “We have a lot of cousins. Maybe you’ve met one of them before?”

“Not me personally, but my father. . .” he trailed off, looking at Sorrel like an animal caught in the headlights of a land speeder. “I mean, thank you.”

The room drifted into silence. It felt like a small eternity before Sorrel finally spoke. “Well?”

The boy frowned at her. “Well, what?”

“We can’t just call you ‘hey, you.’” Sorrel gestured between herself and Gwynn. “We have to call you something. Thought it might as well be your choice.”

She placed a finger on her chin and tilted her head. “Although, I could come up with a nickname, if you prefer. There’s Starboy, Asteroid, the Traveler—“

“Coppelius.”

“What?” Sorrel hadn’t heard it in her determination to come up with more nicknames, and his quiet tone. 

He paused, looking as if he were thinking better of it. Still, he met her eyes. “You can call me Coppelius.”

He stood up. “Again, I thank you both for your kindness, but I can’t stay. I have to leave.”

“But you can’t, the Governor’s declared a state of emergency.” Sorrel didn’t move. “There’s a curfew and the constables are out—they’ll catch you, and if they know that Annwyn is looking for you, they’ll turn you in to keep the peace.”

“It’s a risk I have to take.” Coppelius took a step forward, only to plunge forward. 

Sorrel caught him by the shoulders. “I don’t think you’re going anywhere, at the moment.”

He braced himself on her arms, returning to an unsteady standing position. He opened his mouth as if he were going to argue, only to stop as his eyes met hers. She found herself breathless.

“I guess not,” he admitted with a sigh. 

Sorrel gently pushed him back down into the window seat and sat next to him. “Don’t worry, we’ll help you.”

“It’s what we do.” Gwynn managed a smile. “Speaking of which, Maman’s probably done with dinner already. Might as well get out there before she calls us.”

[pankowperfection]

hi i was wondering if you could write a fic where jj and the reader are smoking together at the chateau and there’s a lot of sexual tension so they start flirting and end up having sex?

Up in Smoke (JJ Maybank x Reader)

A/N: This ended up being kinda long, hope you like it!

Warnings: smut, drug use, 18+

As soon as you had met JJ, you two instantly became best friends. You were usually attached at the hip, rather that be throwing back beers at a bonfire, surfing in the afternoon, or smoking together. He usually flirted with you, gazes that made your skin heat up, pulling you to sit on his lap while hanging out with the other Pogues, or holding you down and tickling you. You flirted back too, sliding your hands just a little too high on his thighs, stealing has hats to wear as your own, bending over to flash him your panties. The sexual tension had been building for a while now but still hadn't gone anywhere.

One rainy Saturday, everyone else was busy either working or hanging out on their own leaving you and JJ alone at the Chateau. You were curled up on the couch, legs thrown over his lap with his hands tracing patterns on your skin. He broke the comfortable silence first. "Want to smoke and watch a movie?" "Sure J, sounds good." He stood up and gathered the supplies, returning to the couch to get started. There was something mesmerizing about watching him build a joint. The way his arm muscles flexed as he twisted the grinder, how his ringed fingers looked rolling the paper, the way his tongue darted out to seal the joint. You could feel the wetness growing between your thighs.

He lit the joint and handed it to you first, always a gentleman. You took a deep drag, savoring the flavor. He watched the way your lips around the joint, mind wandering to what they would look like wrapped around his cock. He felt it stirring to life in his shorts just at the mental image. Thankfully you didn't notice, exhaling a large cloud of smoke and handing the joint to him. He took a large pull, holding the smoke in his mouth before blowing it out in rings, trying to show off for you. You continued to pass it back and forth until it was gone, both of you settling into the haziness of your high.

You both returned to your previous positions, JJ reclining on the couch and your legs draped over his, ass pressed against his thighs. He started running his hands up over your legs but this time the sensation was electric, immediately sending bolts of pleasure to your core. His hands roamed higher than before, dangerously close to your pussy. You let out a groan as he just avoided where you wanted him most. "Something wrong sweetheart?" playful look in his eyes. If he wanted to tease, you would too.

"Course not J, just trying to get comfy." You turned yourself around, laying your head down in his lap. Your face was dangerously close to his dick, close enough to have it throbbing in his shorts. You started running your hands up his thighs, just avoiding his cock, then dragging your nails down over his abs before repeating. In no time the tent in his shorts was obvious. He had his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, chest rising and falling quickly with his breaths as he was silently screaming at you to please touch him.

"Fuck it," he exclaims, quickly standing up and dragging you into the bedroom behind him. "J what are you," you didn't get to finish your sentence before his lips were on you. Kissing you harder than anyone had before. You moaned into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. He deepened the kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth as his hands moved to cup your ass. "I've wanted you for so long, can't wait anymore," his voice is husky with need, almost sounding like a groan. "Take me J, I'm yours."

He starts kissing you again, walking you backwards until you fall onto his bed. He kisses down your neck, somehow quickly finding your sweet spot and sucking a large bruise into it. You are a moaning mess beneath him, trying to grind against him for some relief. Every sensation is intensified from the weed, even simple touches spreading fire through your veins. You yank his shirt over his head, hands caressing down over the taut skin, admiring how beautiful his body is. When you reach his v lines he moans loudly, loving how your nails feel on him.

Your shirt and bra come off next as he leans down to give each of your nipples some licks and tugs with his teeth. He kisses a blazing path down to your shorts, silently asking for permission to continue. "J please." you're desperate for him to touch you. He slides your shorts down your legs, finding no panties underneath. He groans at the sight of your wet pussy, practically inviting him to dive in. He licks a slow stripe up the center, wanting to savor the taste of you. "Mmm y/n, tastes even better than I imagined. So sweet." Immediately he goes back to devouring you, flicking your clit just right as he slides two fingers inside.

When you start to tense and clench around him, he pulls away causing you to cry out. "I can't wait anymore baby, need to feel you around me." He lines up his aching cock with your entrance, slowly pushing in so you can feel each inch. You moan out his name, nails clawing into his back as he finally slides all the way in. He sets the perfect pace, slow enough to savor it but fast enough to have you ready to cum in minutes. Every thrust perfectly hitting your walls, his pelvis rubbing your clit. He rests his forehead against yours, pulling your arms above your head and entwining his hands together with yours. "Fuck J, I'm so close." "Me too baby girl, cum together. Yeah?" He reaches one hand down to rub your clit, knowing it will push you over the edge. You explode around him, orgasm triggering his as you milk him dry. The high you just reached way better than one smoking could give you.

He collapses on top of you, both sweaty and needing to catch your breath. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asks, worried about going too hard. "No JJ, that was perfect. Can't believe we didn't do that sooner." You cuddled together under the sheets, listening to the rain as he softly stroked your back. "So y/n, do you want to be mine?" he pauses to pull back and look into your eyes. "Of course J, I already was yours." You seal the deal with a kiss before falling asleep.

@adventuresinobx @hoebx @starkeyobx @ailee-celeste @jjmaybank63

[bangtangalicious]

fuck me forever | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: smut fuckboy!jungkook bestfriend!jungkook fwb!au college!au

summary: You’re busy studying but kookie wants to play. Really bad. 

warnings: sexual coercion, whiny jungkook...like really whiny. he is OBSESSED with reader’s tits, toxic behavior, manipulation, begging, body worship. a lot of body worship, praise kink, dirty talk, potentially dubcon(?) idk jungkook is being super problematic in this but its subtle, unprotected sex, lots of cursing 

word count: 2k

It had been a busy weekend, filled with late night study sessions, numerous coffee runs, and barely any time to breathe. You reclined on the living room couch of your apartment, typing away busily on your laptop, back against the armrest and legs out in front of you. Your feet rested comfortably in the lap of your best friend, Jeon Jungkook, who absentmindedly was caressing up and down your calves. You didn’t mind. Jungkook and you were quite touchy with one another when it was just the two of you. He was like that though. The campus fuckboy. You knew that neither of you were in a place to be in a proper relationship, and that was perfectly okay with you.  

Jungkook sighed, placing his own computer away. “Let’s take a break” He whined. You ignored him, too engrossed in finishing your assignment. If you had looked up you would have seen him pouting like a baby. He slowly slid under your arms so that he was laying on top of you as you continued to work, his head fitting perfectly in the crook of your neck. His arms wrapped around you tightly as he nuzzled his face into you and then turned to see what you were working on.

“Take a break y/n”

You chuckled.

“I’m on a roll right now Kook. Don’t interrupt me” Jungkook sighed. He knew there was no convincing you. He continued to remain cuddled up against you as more time passed. He began getting impatient, eager for your attention to fall on him.

“You’ve been working so hard” He mumbled into you softly. “I’m really proud of you” This made you smile. It wasn’t something you heard often, so you couldn’t help but feel elated at his words. You stopped typing so that your hand could gently run through Jungkook’s hair as you stared at the screen in front of you.

“Thanks Kook” You took a deep breath before returning to your grind.

Jungkook pressed his lips ever so slightly against your collar, barely leaving a kiss. It tickled, sending almost a shock through your body. His lips were soft and wet, and felt scorching against your exposed skin.

“I know you’re busy, but can I play with your tits?”

You weren’t sure you had heard him right.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me” You felt him smirk against you. “Please, I won’t do anything I just wanna squeeze them”

You sighed. You reasoned that it wouldn’t pose as too much of a distraction for you, and if it would keep him occupied until you finished, you were willing to indulge him.

“Okay” Not a second was waisted before Jungkook’s hand left your waist and harshly groped your breast, the fabric of your shirt crumpling with his touch. He moans softly, so softly that he didn’t think you heard him. But you did. You definitely did.

He props himself up so that he can use both his hands to massage your breasts, laying across you. You peer over his shoulder, attempting to continue focusing. He drags the collar of your shirt down the center of your neck with his finger, watching as the fabric reveals your cleavage slowly, before allowing him access to your bra. He keeps your shirt pulled down as he traces the lacey detail. His hands become softer now, as he uses his thumbs to rub circles on your nipples. He wants nothing more than to suck them. He wants you to suffocate him with them. He wants to feel them squashed around his dick as he pounds into you.

He instead slips his hands under the bra to feel the hot plump skin beneath them. He lets out much louder moan, not even caring that you heard it. He began playing with them roughly again, squeezing them tight, allowing his fingers to stretch and really get a handful of you. He moved them around, wanting to feel something more. His movements were almost painful, but you tried not to pay attention. What broke you was when you glanced down to see his big doe eyes peering up at you from between them, hands tight around your chest like he was holding on for his life, his eyes blasted with lust and yearning.

“Having fun?” You choked slightly as you spoke as his ministrations continued, trying to appear unaffected. He chuckled.

“I love them so much, fuck you have the best tits y/n. I think about them all the time”

“I always took you for more of an ass guy”

Jungkook finally stopped, getting up to put your laptop away. You didn’t try to stop him. You knew you weren’t going to be able to work now. He then dove back into you, this time his hands finding their way behind you and harshly kneading your ass, pushing you up into him slightly. You felt his hardening length press into your stomach ever so slightly, making your heart race. He began licking the top of your chest.

“I love them both.” He groaned, the vibration of his voice in your chest making your legs twitch.  “You’re so perfect. You’re so fucking perfect oh my god” He latched his mouth onto your breast over the fabric of your bra, using his teeth and tongue to get around the fabric so he could suckle you directly.

Now it was your turn to moan, heat pooling between your legs as you unconsciously bucked your hips. His tongue was running rampant against you, the hot sensation driving you insane. He opened his mouth even wider, pulling more of you into his mouth and sucking harshly. His other hand snaked down your body to find your shorts, beginning to pull them down.

With a pop, he left your breast, making you whine at the sudden hit of cold air on your nipples. He helped you undress quickly, then sat upright for a moment, just staring down at you, his eyes moving over your naked body like a vulture. He licked his lips.

“I wanna fuck you” He exhaled.

“Really, I couldn’t tell” Your sarcasm wasn’t cute to him. Not right now. And that only made you want to tease him more. Still fully clothed, he lowers himself back onto you and looks you straight in the eye, face hovering barely inches fro yours.

“Please y/n. Please. Fuck. This is all I want. I don’t want to do anything else. Fuck studying, fuck everything, I just wanna fuck you. Over and over and over again until I can’t anymore. I want to die buried in your sweet sweet pussy. I want you to ride my cock forever” He was panting almost feverishly. His words, while turning you on, were somewhat concerning, but you knew he was probably just really horny.

“Jungkook…not now…I really need to finish my paper. You said you would just play with my tits” You did want to fuck him. But the logical part of your brain was telling you to save rewards for when you deserved them, and right now, you had other things you needed to take care of that were more important than Jungkook’s raging hormones.

Jungkook looked like he was either about to start crying or punch something. His jaw clenched at your refusal, knowing that he had to listen but wanting you so incredibly bad.

“Okay” He exhaled backing away. “Yeah, um” His chest was heaving and you could see sweat forming at his forehead. He tried to look anywhere but at you. He swallowed, trying to get his heart rate to calm down.

But he just couldn’t do it. He pulled his shirt off and wrapped his arms around you again. “Please. Can I just…I’ll be super fast, can I just…a little?” His sentences were incoherent. It was turning you on how bad he wanted you. “Five minutes? Pleaseeee” He whined. You sighed, looking at the boy in front of you. His toned muscles not helping your decision making.

“Y/n I might actually die. Like I will explode if I don’t get to shove myself inside of you right now. Please please please”

You say nothing, moaning slightly as Jungkook kicks off his sweats so you can feel the direct contact of his tip against your wet folds.

“Baby…fuck…you’re so wet baby, I know you want to. I…I’ll be quick okay. Just let me get off this one time”

“Jungkook” You moan again as his hand guides his tip to make circles in your clit.

Something in him snaps, and the next thing you know his hand is around your neck and his dick is entering you.

“Jungkook! What the fuck!”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry” Jungkook was panting. He filled you up completely until he was flush against you. He stilled for a moment, fearfully looking in your eyes for a reaction.

“I’m not a fucking toy you can’t just put your dick inside me because you’re feeling horny” You snapped at him.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry…I just…” He really didn’t have anything to say. You realized then that you were wrong. To him, you were like a toy. Someone there to pound into when he felt the need.

And somehow.

You kinda liked that.

You pushed his hair behind his ear and cupped his cheek softly. His eyes widened as you kissed him softly.

“It’s okay. Take your time. Fuck me as long as you want to”

“A…are you sure?”

You nodded, and to make sure he believed you, you pulled his face down in between your breasts. He groaned, gripping your ass again and starting to move in and out of you slowly. He made sure to savor every second he was in your dripping cunt.

“Do you know” He exhales, “do you even know how fucking HOT you are? Do you know what you do to me?” The obscene sounds of his slow grinding filled the room, harmonizing with both of your soft moans. Your nails scratched against his back as you tilted your head back, basking in the feeling of the way his cock goes in and out and in and out. Jungkook reaches back up to cover your  mouth with his. Kissing you tenderly, like he had all the time in the world.

He breaks away just to gaze at you, stilling his movements. You furrow your brows in confusion. His thumb traces the side of your face as his eyes gleam with adoration.

“I love seeing you like this y/n” He carefully slides out to sit up, kneeling above your body, gazing at your every crevice. “How did I get so lucky” He whispered more to himself than anything.

He stokes himself with one hand while the other finds your clit, driving you to your edge. “I’m gonna cum on your tits. I’m gonna cum all over you because you’re mine. Fucking goddess, you’re the hottest girl in the world. I could just” He lets out an aggressive moan, his hands moving faster, “So fucking pretty. So fucking hot holy shit” He’s going as fast as he can now, words falling apart as he whines towards his release, “So fuck pretty fuck all mine” Just when you think he’s about to cum all over you he shoves himself back into you thrusting furiously.

“Jungkook!” You scream. You weren’t on the pill, and he very much did not have a condom on. “Stop”

“No…no…fuck…you’re so hot. You’re so hot y/n please please. I…I love you…please I need you so bad. Let me please…say it…tell me its okay. tell me you want my cum”

You were so shocked and confused, but his thrusting was preventing you from thinking clearly.

Just give in You think to yourself. You’ll like it more if you stop fucking thinking so much

As if he hears your thoughts, he slows down to a stop and looks at you. “If you really want me to pull out I will” His eyes looked so sincere that you couldn’t possibly deny him. You shook your head.

“You’re right…it’s okay…it’s probably fine”

Jungkook paused, as if a realization just hit him and his demeanor shifted entirely.

“Are you sure?”

You nod.

“Do you like it? Do you feel good?”

You nod. He strokes your face again, tracing your lips before biting him with his own. “Mmm” He moans into your mouth loudly as he hands push your legs up around his waist. “So fucking sweet. I can’t get enough of you” He starts making small thrusts, but forceful ones. It hurt but it felt so good at the same time. He doesn’t leave your lips for a second, as he continued to moan dirty things straight into you.

“You feel so good. So damn good. You don’t even know how many guys would kill for this. Best.” His thrusts get harsher with every word, “Pussy. I’ve. Ever. Fucked. My. Sexy. Little. Whore. All. Mine. Could. Fuck you. Forever.” His words speed up hectically, his body losing control as both of you arrive at your peaks, “FUCK, baby baby baby” He kisses your lips with a smack, “Say it’s mine baby. Say it’s only for me. Only I can fuck you like this.” He cries out in ecstasy. Seeing him so fucked out and gone turns you on and you feel your orgasm wash over you, pussy clenching down tightly, causing him to yelp. “Oh my godddd” You finally notice the way your bead is creaking loudly under Jungkook’s loud moans. His cum shoots inside you, filling you up in a way you had never experienced before. He drops down onto you, his arms on either side of your head and his face in your neck, softly nibbling.

“That was so good” He can barely even get his words out through his heavy breaths. His cock is still inside you, “You’re incredible” He kisses you again, softly, adoringly.

“Kook?”

“Mmhm” He answers between kisses.

“Do you like me?”

“Of course I do baby” He murmurs, clearly not taking much mind to your questions.

“No like, you kept saying I’m yours and things like that” He pauses to look at you.

“You are mine” He kisses your forehead, “I care about you. You know that. But I’m not proud of who I am. And I can’t drag you down with me. God, I would fuck you forever and ever if I could y/n. I would love you, I...I do...but I can’t. I’m pathetic. You deserve better” He sighed. Your heart wrenched. Looking at the boy in front of you now, those comforting eyes who were always there. Your heart swelled with emotion as you realized that maybe there was something more here.

“Do it” You barely whispered, causing Jungkook to tremble at the tone of your voice.

“What..?”

“Fuck me again. And again. Until we can’t stand”

masterlist

[fickle-tiction]

“It’ll be fun” They said.

“Clark, no.” It seems cliché to say that Bruce growled that statement, but there really was no better way to describe the man’s tone.

“Clark, yes.” Clark sounded more like an excited toddler than he did a grown man.

~

‘You have to open up around those you care about.’ They said. ‘You have to be vulnerable with your significant other.’ They said. ‘You have to let your guard down.’ They said. Whoever ‘They’ were, They gave terrible advice.

 Bruce was lounging on his absurdly large bed, dressed comfortably in a black t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. He was reclining against a mountain of pillows, legs stretched out in front of him and feet crossed at the ankles as he read an article on his phone. He heard Clark enter the room, but didn’t change positions or look up from his phone. He was open, vulnerable, relaxed, the picture perfect boyfriend. He could do normal. He could be normal. 

Clark took one look at Bruce sitting comfortably on the bed and took a running start before belly flopping next to him. 

Bruce’s entire body left the surface of the bed with the force of Clark’s bounce, and it took a monumental effort not to crack a smile at the golden retriever now laying next to him. Instead, he set his phone aside and raised a single eyebrow.

“Bruce.” Clark gasped, running a finger over the thin skin of Bruce’s ankle where his pants had ridden up. “Are you wearing plaid?!” 

Bruce expelled air through his nose, which anyone close to him would know meant he was amused. He was, in fact, wearing charcoal and black plaid pajama pants. “I have three more pairs just like them. I’m not sure what I did to piss Alfred off.” He twitched his foot away from Clark’s still-wandering finger. 

Clark was vaguely curious about what the other pairs looked like; if Alfred had left a classic red plaid design in there, or if they were all Bruce’s signature dark colors. He was more interested in how Bruce once again twitched his foot away when Clark ran his fingertips around his ankle. “Ticklish?” Clark asked, nearly laughing at the thought. As if Bruce would ever be--

“A little.” Bruce admitted, twitching his foot away and lightly kicking at Clark’s hand. See? He could do open and honest. He was not a robot. He was---why was Clark looking at him like he just presented him with the moon and the stars?

“You are?” Clark asked, pushing himself up into a sitting position. “You? Bruce ‘Justice Is My Middle Name’ Wayne?” Clark growled the middle name part in the dumb voice he used to imitate Batman, and Bruce scowled at him for it. 

“I am still human.” Bruce pointed out. “As you and Alfred love to remind me.” 

Clark hummed, his excited smile never leaving his face. “And just how human are you?” He asked, crawling over Bruce’s legs.

“Clark, no.” Bruce growled, trying to scoot backwards before Clark---damn it, before Clark sat on his thighs and forced him to lay back against the pillows again. 

“Clark, yes.” Clark’s wolfish smile clearly stated that Bruce was not going anywhere anytime soon. “So where else are you ‘a little ticklish’?” His fingers were trailing mindless patterns over Bruce’s stomach as he spoke, and Bruce was doing everything in his power to not twitch and give himself away.

“Just my ankles.” Bruce’s hands were clenched into fists next to Clark’s thighs. He wouldn’t grab Clark’s wrists or try to cover himself up. Doing so would be admitting that it tickled, and he while he was trying to be more open and honest with Clark, he figured this was one area where he was allowed to keep secrets. 

“So then you won’t mind if I do this?” Clark moved his hands quickly (human quickly, not superspeed quickly) and stopped them an inch from touching Bruce’s neck. Bruce’s entire body tensed involuntarily, and he knew from Clark’s smirk that he just gave himself away. “I’m not even touching you.”

“You’re like a five year ohhhhll-” Bruce snapped his mouth shut, shoot Clark a wounded look as his boyfriend laughed at him. Clark had started tickling the side of his neck to shut him up, and it worked. 

“What was that, B?” Clark asked, attacking both sides of Bruce’s vulnerable neck with gentle tickles. Bruce’s face was scrunched up as he desperately tried to hold his laughter in. “Did you say something?” He asked, dancing his fingers down to Bruce’s collarbones and letting them run wild. 

Bruce was going to murder Clark as soon as he was done behaving like a child. He was going to shove a block of kryptonite down his throat, string him up by his ears, and--OhMyGodWhatTheFuck--Clark’s hands darted down to Bruce’s stomach and began scratching his abs through his t-shirt. It took Bruce all of two seconds to crack and try to push his hands away, laughter beginning to bubble out of him.

“Gotcha!” Clark grinned, drinking in the sight of Bruce laughing. He could count on one hand the amount of times he’s seen Bruce laugh, but never like this. His skin was crinkling around his eyes, nose scrunched up, mouth stretched wide and showing off his pearly white teeth. He was gorgeous. He was...he was trying to push Clark’s hands away. Now, that just would not do. “Let’s just get these out of the way.” Clark easily gathered Bruce’s wrists in one hand and pinned them above Bruce’s head.

“Oh, fuck.” Bruce laughed, testing Clark’s steel grip. “Clark.” He pleaded, a smile still gracing his face even though Clark had stopped tickling him for the moment. “You got me.” He agreed, licking his dry lips. “Maybe we can do something...a little more fun?” He suggested.

“After you lied to me?” Clark asked, trailing the tips of his fingers down the length of Bruce’s ribcage. Bruce didn’t even fight his smile, squirming beneath the slow drag of Clark’s hand. 

“When did I lie to you?” Bruce asked, body nearly vibrating in anticipation as Clark’s barely-there touch ghosted over his stomach. 

“You said only your ankles were ticklish.”

“No.” Bruce protested, sucking in a breath when Clark wiggled a single finger between his ribs in warning. “I said my ankles were the only spot that was a little ticklish.” Bruce looked so smug about his loophole. “I’m very ticklish in other places.” For a genius, he really was an idiot sometimes.

“Oh?” Clark asked, hand gently flexing around Bruce’s trapped wrists to remind him of his current predicament. “What other places?”

Bruce’s mouth opened and closed a few times as he mentally kicked himself. See, this is what being open and honest did. It turned you into a fool. “You know, tickling was outlawed under the Geneva Conventions.”

Now it was Clark’s turn to huff a laugh. “You are ridiculous.” He said fondly. He waited a beat, lulling Bruce into a false sense of security, before drilling his fingers into Bruce’s exposed armpit. “And ridiculously ticklish.” He had to raise his voice to be heard over Bruce’s frantic laughter.

Bruce was struggling against Clark’s grip on his wrists, trying to twist his torso side-to-side, anything to get away from those merciless fingers that were attacking his upper body at random. One second he felt fingers massaging the space between his ribs, the next he felt nails gently scratching over the skin of his neck. It seemed nowhere was safe, and the fact that Bruce couldn’t move away was making everything tickle a hundred times more.

“Cla-hahahaha-Clark!” Bruce choked out, nervous laughter kicking up a notch when Clark’s hand found it’s way to the skin just above his hipbone. “Th-ahahahaha-that’s enou--haha-enough!” He would call Diana to get Clark off of him if he wasn’t 99% sure she would simply take Clark’s place instead. He also didn’t hate this, not that he would tell Clark that even under threat of death. He just couldn’t move and it was driving him insane. 

“I haven’t even tried your feet yet.” Clark didn’t miss the way Bruce started struggling harder against his hold. “Or your knees.”

Clark’s hand was kneading the fleshy part of Bruce’s side and Bruce felt like his stomach was full of ice water, but in the best possible way. He couldn’t decide if he loved or hated these sensations, and it was very confusing. “Next time!” He promised, squirming like a live-wire as Clark walked his fingers back up his ribcage. 

“There’s going to be a next time?” Did Clark hear him correctly. 

“Ye-hehe-yes! Bruce laughed, muscles twitching as Clark prodded his topmost ribs, just below his armpit. “Wha-hahaha-whatever you wa-haha-want just sto--haha-stopstopstop!” He babbled, feet kicking against the mattress as Clark tormented what was quickly becoming his new favorite spot.

Clark stopped his tickling, but kept his hold on Bruce’s wrists. Bruce’s entire body sunk into the mattress and pillows when Clark finally stopped his teasing, nervous bubbly laughter still trickling out of Bruce as the ghostly feeling of fingertips on his sensitive spots started to fade away. 

Clark waited until Bruce opened his eyes again, breathing a little heavier than normal but no worse for the wear. “There’s going to be a next time?” He asked, big goofy smile in place.

Bruce paused for a second, debating with himself what his answer would be. In the end, he decided to stick with this whole open and honest thing he was trying out. “I think so.” A soft smile was playing around the corners of his mouth, and if he hadn’t trained himself out of it decades ago he would probably be blushing right now. “Maybe don’t hold me down next time though?” He suggested, tugging at his wrists to emphasize his point.

Clark’s goofy grin was replaced with something sharper. “Are you sure? It makes it much easier to transition into this.” Clark leaned down and kissed Bruce, taking his time to explore his boyfriend’s mouth at his own pace. He only stopped when Bruce made a reluctant noise of protest, the need for air unfortunately outweighing his need to have Clark’s tongue in his mouth. 

Bruce could get used to this open and honest thing. 

[obsessive-ego]

Late night chats

Musical beetlejuice x reader

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

Fluff, pining

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you wearing?~"

You frown, knowing that voice anywhere

"Beetlejuice-"

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

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

"What-"

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

"What?"

"Y/n what day is it?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Beetlejuice, beetlejuice, beetlejuice"

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

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

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

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

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

"Its showtime"

...

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You mumble something unintelligible, Beej hums in response

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

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

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

You grumble in response

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

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

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

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

You mumble in response

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

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

"...beee" you sigh

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

"...beetlejuice"

You were

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

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

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

"Beetle-"

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

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

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

"I was? I-" you babble

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

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

"....okay" you whisper

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

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

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

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

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

[orangepanic]

I hear all the cool kids are sneak previewing their @avatar-hauntober fics, so here's an early snippet of my fic for the October 15th prompt, monsters:

Mako laid sixteen photographs out on the cold metal table in four neat rows. They were in one of the interrogation rooms for privacy, the kind with the one-way glass that Asami always associated with her father. This wasn’t about him though—or at least, as far as she could tell it wasn’t. Instead, the photographs showed a large and comfortable-looking study that would have been at home in any of the houses of Republic City’s well-to-do elite. It had been completely destroyed. 

Asami leaned forwards to carefully study each picture. The most obvious target had been the wall opposite the fireplace. Most of the middle was torn down to the studs, the drywall scattered across the floor in a corona of dust and debris. Green and white patterned wallpaper hung in limp strips all the way to the floor. The wall didn’t seem to have been opened up so much as exploded outward. Directly below it on its side was a large metal safe, its door twisted off at the hinges. Predictably, it was empty.

The remainder of the photographs showed the rest of the room. The leather recliner lay on its side, its stuffing bleeding out onto the torn carpet amid a scattering of books and papers. In the center of the rug was a small pistol and a few torn papers that looked like a mix of legal documents and what might be Bank of the Republic bonds. It was hard to read though. Everything seemed covered in crescent-shaped smudges of soot from the fireplace. 

"Tell me what you see,” Mako said.

"Break-in," Asami answered. That seemed obvious enough. "And a sloppy one at that. They must have used some kind of explosive." Yet even as she said it she knew it was wrong. The wall had exploded outward, not in. It was all over the floor. As was the safe. In order to do that the explosive would have to have been packed in behind it. But the drywall behind the studs remained intact, and the papers strewn across the floor were shredded but unburnt. If they’d been in the safe when it blew they’d have been incinerated.

"Any damage at all to the wall behind the safe?" she asked.

"None," Mako said. "Completely untouched."

"But that makes no sense." Asami scanned the photographs again. "That looks like a 10-gauge steel safe. It's got to weigh three hundred pounds at least. Nothing manual could get that out of the wall." She looked up at Mako. "You'd need a chainfall, or a gang of six men and a lot of time."

Mako nodded. "What else?"

Asami turned back to the pictures. "They knew where it was," she muttered. "There are no exploratory cuts anywhere. I’m not sure why they tore up the rug or the chair though—that looks deliberate. Revenge, maybe? And I don't see signs of a break-in anywhere else, so they came in through the door." She looked up. “Maybe they knew the owner and he or she let them in?”

"They didn't," Mako replied grimly. "The victim was out of town at the time. He remembers locking his study as usual precisely because there’s the safe in there. Keeps the key on his ring. The front door was locked as well, and stayed locked. No one else was home.”

"Window?"

"Locked from the inside, too."

Asami hummed to herself. "So why blow the safe, or whatever they did, but be delicate with picking the door locks? They obviously didn't care about making noise."

Mako scratched at the back of his neck. "No fucking clue," he said. "What do you make of the soot?"

"It looks like they went out of their way to step in the fireplace," she said. "Personal grudge maybe? Goes with ripping up the rug and chair and all the papers?" Asami squinted at the photo again. "No footprints though. Just these half-circle smudges. It’s like he walked around on his knees or something."

Mako said nothing. Asami looked at it all again, trying to figure out what she was missing. Locked door. Locked window. An explosion that was impossible, with half the valuables left sitting on the floor. Soot tracked across the torn-up carpet. 

Then she stopped. Tracked.

"Mako, is there any chance this guy came down the chimney?" Asami asked.

He shook his head. "That was my thought, too," he said. "So I measured it. The chimney is only fifteen inches wide. Unless we're looking at a fairly skinny kid, there’s no way. And not with the equipment they’d need to crack a safe like that. They had to have picked the door."

Asami frowned. "So what did this person take, anyway? If they weren’t after bonds or weapons.”

"Gold," Mako said. "According to our victim, lots and lots of gold."

[sundaysundaes]

Thirst

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff | 3.8k | Vampire AU

Summary: You have walked the earth for more than a hundred years but your eternity finally means something the second you meet a human boy with smiles brighter than the sun.

Warnings: Vampire!Reader X Human!Hyuck, unprotected sex, blood sucking

“Wait, ah…” 

You pull back at the sound of his voice, fingers squeezing his upper arm. “Nervous?”

Donghyuck throws his head back and runs a hand over his face. He averts his gaze, slightly hiding behind his lean fingers. “Of course, I’m nervous,” he confesses, the tip of his ears turning scarlet. “I have a cute girl sitting on my lap, about to drink blood from my neck—how could I not be nervous?”

You reach out to him, gently running your fingertips at the side of his throat, and see him swallow hard at your touch. You can hear his heartbeat soaring, which only fuels your thirst for his blood. It has been days since you last drank from him and the flame in your throat is scorching. You know that if you don’t do something about it fast, you’ll lose what’s left of your humanity.

“Hyuck…” You plead, gripping against the collar of his black shirt. “I’m… I really need to drink…”

All the anxiety on his face is replaced instantly with concern. “Shit, you’re right, I’m sorry.” He takes a deep breath, unfastening two of his top buttons to reveal more of his collarbones. The previous bite marks have begun to fade on his skin, appearing almost as faint as the little mole he has on his Adam’s apple. He’s beautiful, so beautiful, that if your mind wasn’t too clouded with the thoughts of consuming human blood, you would praise and cherish every little detail of his features with your lips.

Donghyuck closes his eyes, eyebrows adjoined in the middle in anticipation of your bite. His hand is fisting his collar, slowly tugging it down to reveal more sun-kissed skin to your glowing eyes. “H-have it your way.”

The way he’s reacting like a child curling up in fear of a syringe being plunged into their skin, makes you feel contrite but there’s no other option but to consume what he offers. Otherwise, your thirst for blood will drive you to the brink of your sanity, forcing you to do something even more terrible to him.

You try your best to divert your attention and focus more on trying to comfort him, even when your entire body nearly blazes in flame. Softly, you brush your lips against the column of his throat.

Donghyuck shivers, his breathing tatters. “Don’t—“ He curls his fingers, nails sinking into his palms when he feels your mouth move to lay wet kisses down his chest. “Don’t do that, please.”

“I’m trying to calm you down.”

“Well, you’re doing the opposite 'cause then I’ll be nervous for an entirely different reason.” Donghyuck brings the back of his hand to his mouth, murmuring the words against his skin. But despite the heat that warms his cheeks, he does seem a bit more relaxed, slightly smiling sheepishly at you over his flirtatious words. “I’m fine, just do it.”

You nod, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose. Caught off guard, the blush blooms a little wider on his face but he tenderly strokes your cheek. “We’ll do that again after you’re finished,” he promises, “A lot of that.” His hooded eyes are captivated with the way your lips glisten under the slide of his thumb. “Right here.”  

You smile in return. Landing yet another soft kiss to his jaw this time, you extend your fangs and make your mark.

Donghyuck winces away from the pain of your cuspids puncturing the skin under his jaw, right between the earlobe and the collarbone. His hand immediately finds your shoulder, fingers twisting against the fabric of your dress. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes shut close as he endures the pain, but in the next few seconds, his breathing gradually becomes slower.

His head swirls as the rush of endorphin fills his system, elevating him with bliss. He slides his hand down from your shoulder to your arm, resting it on the dip of your waist. You can hear him curse under his breath but he slowly relaxes, his body reclining with you pressed tightly against his chest.

“You’re not so gentle today, are you?” He chuckles softly, slurring a little bit as his thoughts become hazy with ecstasy. “You don’t usually bite me like that.”

You can’t respond, too busy drowning in the pleasantness of his blood.

“So serious.” He quietly laughs. “Well, I guess, it has been a while since we did this so you must be very thirsty.” His free hand slips around your neck, tangling your locks around his fingers. He lets his lips brush against your strands as he murmurs, “I’m sorry… It must have been painful.”

It was painful. So painful that you were about to lose your mind, but with Donghyuck’s arms wrapped around your body protectively, his warm skin under your fingertips, and his sweet, sweet blood on your tongue, every pain, every suffering, every torture you’ve experienced vanishes into a blur.

“Calm down,” he whispers, his honeyed voice soothes you more than anything else in the world. “You don’t have to rush. I’m not going anywhere.”

And as he relishes the feeling of your tongue on his skin, your teeth sinking to draw even more blood, he closes his eyes again, and witnesses a flashback behind his eyelids.

Eight years-old Lee Donghyuck stood on the frozen ground with his tiny gloves covering his trembling fingers. Smokes of warm breaths were clouding over his mouth. His teeth chattered from the cold; a weird, repetitive melody to his ears. And although his tears were no longer falling, his reddened cheeks were still lined with them. 

“Jaeminnie…” He sniffed, one arm hugging himself by the waist while the other one moved to rub his puffy eyes. “Jaeminnie, where are you…?”

His warm chocolate brown beanie was no longer covering his head—a small reminder of how he had previously tripped himself and scraped his knee on the way down. It hurt. His trousers were ripped open from the fall, enough to show the small bleeding wound on his right knee. Kissed by the cold, his ears were red to the tips, freezing. 

He was alone. And lost. And no matter how much he called out for Jaemin’s name over and over again, no one ever came to reply.

Losing strength, Donghyuck fell to his knees. His gloved covered fingers sank into the five centimeters deep white snow and he began to cry, as loudly as he could, just like how he usually did at nights when he was too scared of the monster lurking under his bed.

He cried, and he cried, and he cried, and then he stopped.

He was not alone.

Donghyuck had his gaze on you; his big, watery, round eyes blinking in surprise. Your dress was tainted with splotches of red, fresh liquid that dripped from your chin as you just feasted upon a human. Turning around to look at him, Donghyuck noticed something peculiar.

Your eyes were glowing, strikingly so. Even in the darkness, even when the moon didn’t set afoot to shine that night in the silenced forest, Donghyuck saw them shining like the stars. And they were brighter, much brighter than anything he had ever witnessed.

The little boy stopped crying and gazed back at you. But no matter how cold your eyes were as they raked in his features, Donghyuck was not as much afraid as he was curious of why you could stand in the middle of December, wearing nothing but a sleeveless knee-high summer dress. And he was still starstruck with your glowing topaz eyes.

When he reached out a hand, you took a step back by instinct. Humans made you nervous, especially after your last encounter with the hunters. The memory of one of them nearly driving a stake into your heart made you more cautious than ever, even when your opponent was only a child.

Donghyuck stood up and dared himself to take another step and this time you bared your teeth in response. Your natural human face suddenly dispersed into a form of fear the second Donghyuck saw your teeth.

They were fangs, small but sharp enough to tear skin apart. You snarled, like a beast in a corner, ready to pounce when threatened. 

But Donghyuck’s fear only lasted for a minute, while his curiosity and admiration lasted forever.

“You…” Donghyuck spoke, his voice quivered from the cold and perhaps, excitement. Blood was still dripping from the corner of your mouth and he saw a long cut, spreading from your right palm to her wrist. “Are you hurt? You’re bleeding…”

Your eyes widened in surprise at his words, blinking twice before your shoulders began to loosen.

“If you’re hurt, I have band-aids,” Donghyuck said, immediately shoving his small hand inside his pocket to grab two blue band-aids with soccer balls printed on them. He showed them to you, his teeth still chattering from the cold. “See?”

You examined him more, looking for any kind of sign that he might be a threat to your existence but it was no use. Donghyuck was as harmless as he was adorable. He didn’t even have the strength to keep his little, stubby fingers steady from the cold.

“Why are you crying?” You asked instead, standing a little better in a less offensive stance. 

Donghyuck finally remembered. “Nana… Jaeminnie’s gone… He fought with his brother so we went out here to have some time for ourselves but… But we got separated and now he’s gone...”

“In the woods like this?” You wiped the blood off your mouth with the back of your hand. “What, do you want to die? It’s not safe.”

“N-no—I don’t want to die… I didn’t mean it to be like this.” The little boy shook his head. “I was just trying to help… Jaeminnie looked sad and I wanted to help…”

You fell quiet for a moment, noticing how Donghyuck’s eyes had turned watery once again. You retracted your hands, no longer had your claws out to defend yourself. “Maybe your friend’s already gone home first.” 

“Y-you think?” Donghyuck’s eyes grew hopeful and that was when you realized that the boy was not crying because he was lost in the woods late at night, nor was he crying because he thought his friend abandoned him. Donghyuck was crying because he was worried sick about him. “W-well, if he’s home then that’s great… I really hope he’s with his family again… Fighting is bad…”

So frail, you thought, humans are so frail. Leave them and they cry. Break them and they die.

You sighed. You couldn’t find the heart to leave him alone.“Come with me,” you said, “I’ll help you find your way out of the woods. You can check whether he’s home or not after that.”

And Donghyuck was not one to think twice when people offered him help. With a bright smile, he let his little feet carry him closer to your spot. “I’m Donghyuck,” he said, smiling brightly as he stood beside you. “And you are?”

You glanced at him, noticing how his bangs were fluttering from the winter breeze. His nose was red and his skin, although it was slightly tanned, was thin and easy for you to sink your teeth into if you wanted to. 

You told him your name and you had to repeat it twice until he could pronounce it correctly. He smiled even warmer. “Your name is pretty. Just like you, Noona!”

Noona? You almost snorted. When was the last time someone ever called you that?

But you kept yourself in silence and although you appeared cold, Donghyuck managed to find your charm in his own way. 

“Can I hold your hand on the way out, Noona?”

“Don’t get too full of yourself, brat.”

Twenty years-old Lee Donghyuck smiles at the memory, even when he’s somewhat dazed from the chemical of your saliva. He embraces you tighter, sighing close to your ear, “It took a while before you warmed up to me. I’m just so glad you accept me the way I am.”

That’s my line. You close your eyes, fingers curling against the back of his shirt. You can faintly hear his heartbeat growing slower and during the time you begin to worry, Donghyuck caresses your cheek.  

“Can we…” He breathes heavily. “Stop for a moment?” His head swirls, always an aftereffect from having his blood sucked more than he can contain. But even then, he still smiles like always.

“Oh…” Embarrassed and startled, you pull away, immediately wiping the trace of blood on the corner of your lips with the back of your hand. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… Umm…” Donghyuck witnesses your fangs before they’re fully retracted, as you turn away, shy and ashamed, hiding the only thing that distinguishes you from a normal human. 

Donghyuck smiles wider, and wider, until he produces this little chuckle that always sends a trickle of warmth and desire through your soundless heart. “You’re adorable, come here,” he says, hugging you from behind and tugging you closer to his chest, your intertwined hands lying idly on your lap.

After years have passed by since your first encounter, Donghyuck has become stronger and taller, with broader shoulders and veiny muscles appearing along his wrists. You, in return, stay as young as always, never changing. But like this, sitting above his thighs and curling up to his chest, you look like a normal girl, perhaps even a few months younger than he is.

“Hyuck...” 

“Hmm?”

“Did it... hurt?”

“When I fell from heaven?”

You don’t indulge him with his jokes. “When I bit you, did it hurt?”

“Yeah, but I like it.” He grins, placing his chin on your shoulder. "Seems like I’ve developed a kink for it.” When you don’t mirror his laugh, he embraces you tighter. “I’m fine,” he whispers to your ear, tickling you with his warm breath. “Just a little low on blood, but come on, it’s nothing new.”

You don’t say anything but Donghyuck understands how guilt is gnawing at you from the inside. “Hey,” he gently turns your body around until he has his eyes peering into yours. You’re reluctant, not sure how to face him with the look of guilt on your face. “I said I’m fine. Can’t you see?” he coos, smiling with his chocolate brown eyes turning crescents. “Don’t look like that. You know I don’t like it when you’re blaming yourself for drinking my blood.”

“But it’s…” You nibble on your lower lip. “It’s not right.”

“You’re just filling your needs,” Donghyuck corrects you. “What’s wrong with it? I do it all the time. Think about this as your late-night snack.”

“Hyuck, I’m snacking on your blood.”

“And yet you’re the one who complains about it. You see how weird that is?” You shoot him a glare but Donghyuck counters back with a pout—a habit from his childhood days that somehow only occurs more often now that he’s an adult. “Look, I volunteered to do this. I want you to drink my blood.” He swats the bangs out of your eyes, leaning close. “I’ll be pissed-off if you drink from someone else, actually. You’re supposed to be mine, just as much as I am yours.”

It’s funny how you’re superior than him in terms of experience, strength, and possibly anything else, but he shamelessly talks like he owns you. And you don’t mind, not at all, because after living behind the shadows for so long, it’s nice to have someone as bright as the sun holding you captive under his light.

You trail your fingers through the blood on his neck, painting his skin with crimson. “I’ve made a mess,” you mumble to yourself and Donghyuck stiffens, even stops breathing for a second. You dip your head into the crook of his neck, darting out your tongue to wipe the rest of his blood away, slowly and gently so you won’t scrape his skin with your fangs.

“Don’t hold back.” He holds you closer until your teeth are grazing against the supple skin. “It’s okay if you want to do it again.”

The temptation is too much, too strong, and you can’t find the will or strength to decline. “T-then... Just a little more.”

Donghyuck’s ragged breathing devolves into soft moans that ring in your ears, and you want him so desperately in every sense of the word. “Fuck, it’s so weird that it feels this good,” he sighs, the back of his head pressed against the wall behind him. “Do I taste this good to you too?”

You hum, squeezing his shoulder.

He smiles between deep sighs. “Then, I guess, we’re both each other’s drugs.”

You only take a sip of his blood and lick the rest until nothing seeps out from his wound. Donghyuck is in a haze, eyes nearly closed when he smiles softly. “Are you done?”

You nod, wiping your mouth clean. “Thank you.”

“You’re being too formal.” He titters. “But you’re welcome. Anytime you want.”

You don’t really blush, not when you’ve lived for more than a century, but Donghyuck has his way to break into your facade and knows when he’s succeeding. He says there’s just something in the way you avert your gaze, the way you lick your lips nervously, or the way you put a hand on his chest as if you were about to push him away, but at the same time, making sure that he stayed near.

Donghyuck understands all that. He knows you like the back of his hand. 

“Listen to me,” Donghyuck says, cupping your face with both hands so he can stare directly into your glowing eyes. “If you ever crave for blood, you come to me, okay? I won’t let you starve. I won’t let you die. You can drink from me, as much as you want. I want you to.”

You’re surprised at the sudden pressure on his words and Donghyuck’s hands are hot, nearly scorching compared to your icy cold skin but they’re comfortable. He reminds you of the sun, of its heat on your skin during the day, reminding you how good your life was as a human.

“But I’m not even alive, Hyuck,” you say, smiling weakly as you lean more into his touch.

“Scientifically, no.” He shifts closer to press his forehead against yours, his heat seeping through your skin. “But to me, you’re much more alive—and you make me feel more alive than anyone I’ve ever known.”

You want to meet his eyes, but his stare is directed to your lips. “Is that a compliment or a white lie?” You whisper, and his eyes grow half-lidded when he sees you moving your lips to form a sentence.

“It’s the truth.” Donghyuck swallows the soft noise you make directly with his mouth, lips slanting against yours perfectly like pieces of a puzzle. He groans from the back of his throat when he tastes a hint of his blood on your tongue, kissing you deeper with more passion.

Being with Donghyuck is suffocating and it’s funny because you don’t even need to breathe to live. It’s suffocating in the sense of how desperate his kisses are, how there is only one innocent kiss at the beginning that only lasts for a few seconds and then vanishes entirely, changing into hard, bruising, deep ones that feel possessive and dominating.

But being with him is also comforting. He gives you solace you don’t know you need. His touch, a stark contrast to his kisses, is gentle, almost silky smooth whenever his hands glide on your skin. He’s the only one who knows how to make you laugh, even when you can hardly remember how or the sound that you make when you do. His laughter is contagious, his protested whines are both annoying and endearing. He’s the fire that keeps you alive.

“Hyuck—” You circle your fingers around his wrist, feeling the heartbeat that faintly beats under the skin. “Wait, you’re losing a lot of blood—”

“I don’t care,” he gasps against your mouth, yanking his hand from your hold so he can cup your cheek. “I’m fine, so let’s just—“ You let him overpower you for once to do as he pleases and he pushes you down to the carpeted floor, crawling on top of your body. “I want you—for two weeks, I’ve been—I’ve missed you—”

Donghyuck is adorable when he wants something so desperately, like the way he furrows his eyebrows as he runs his fingers on his keyboards. The way he’s shouting a train of expletives at his computer screen before he leaps out of his chair, punching the air when he finally completes the mission. 

Donghyuck is captivating when he desires to achieve something in his life, like the way he practices dancing over and over again to earn a scholarship to college. Or the way he told you he loved you a few months ago, and no matter how many times you said no, telling how ridiculous of him to even think about being with a vampire, he never relented. 

And Donghyuck is beautiful—so out worldly beautiful—when he wants you.

It’s beautiful, the little moan that escapes his lips when you touch him back. Even the slightest touch at the right spot can make him shiver and he blushes when you notice him react that way, immediately saying, “It’s just cold here, okay? And your ice-cold skin isn’t helping.” 

It’s beautiful, the way a bead of sweat rolls down his temple as he’s sheathed deep inside you, not quite moving yet as he tries to catch his breath, his cheeks flushed. “You’re driving me insane,” he confesses, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, grazing his lips against your skin as he sighs. “Can we stay like this forever?”

It’s beautiful, the way he laughs when you answer him with, “Actually yes, we can, if you’re willing to be turned into a vampire.” The appalled look on his face only stays for a split second before he beams at you, his smile bright enough to replace the sun. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” he giggles, taking your earlobe between his teeth as he whispers, “Any man would be happy to sacrifice their souls to be able to make love to you for eternity. Including me.” And as he moves back to your lips, he adds, “Especially me.”

It’s beautiful, the way he throws his head back in pleasure at the feeling of you clenching around him. The way he murmurs expletives while biting his lip as he brings his eyes down to you. His expression is erotic, his voice obscene, his lips are parted and bruised. His hands are on your knees as he spreads your legs apart, pushing himself deeper inside. “I can never get enough of you. I—“ He flinches when his thrust hits your sweet spot and you squeeze harder around him in response.

It’s beautiful, the way he rambles when the sensation becomes too much. “The way you feel around me—” He places open-mouthed kisses down your neck, his hips moving frantically at a faster pace. “Y-your entire existence—” His hand heads over to your breast, his thumb sliding over your nub. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

And it’s fucking beautiful, the way he says your name in a soft gasp as he comes inside you, his arms trembling when he places them on the floor on each side of your head to keep him from collapsing on top of you. His temple is pressed against your collarbone and he quivers when you kiss his hair. His lips immediately chase after yours when his name escapes your mouth, and he kisses you again, and again, as if he hasn’t been kissing you a thousand times already.

“Stay with me,” he begs, his hooded eyes nearly hidden behind the bangs that are damp from his sweat. “I’ll keep you alive—as alive as you make me feel so please just…”

Don’t leave me.

***

[ironmariposa]

Okay so I am in the middle of reading this fic and am enjoying it when this AMAZING Pepa/Félix scene happens in Ch 5 and I flip out so much I haven’t been able to keep reading because I keep going back to it. Like it is THE Pepa/Félix I LOVE SO MUCH!!!

Here’s a little snippet of it:

“Please don’t go, Félix, please.” She balled up her fists in the back of his drenched shirt, and felt the minuscule shivers that were starting to race along his broad back.

At that he made a hissing sort of bark of noise, something that might be cousin to a laugh. He did that and started to recline against the sopping wet pillow with her still wrapped around him like a river wrapped around a plane of land. “Oh, mi mundo, where else would I go? Without you, there is nowhere else. Without you, I’d just float away.”

For a shuddering moment it was enough to simply lay against him, with an ear pressed directly over his heart to hear it beat sure and strong and steady.

But there was–.

–nothing between her and the sky anymore–

“But what if I floated away?” The words were a whisper, something she’d never say in front of the children. “What if I just–poof–couldn’t stay anymore? What if I was just…the rain? What then?”

He let out a thoughtful hum that seemed to coalesce and pool pleasantly in her ear.

“Well, if you were the rain then I’d have to find a jar big enough to catch you in and bring you back together. Couldn’t you see it? Me, out chasing storms, my first two buttons on my shirt undone because I know the best way to catch you and I always will. Sexy, eh?”

She couldn’t help the giggle that snorted out of her nose.

“Well, what if I was the sunlight?”

“Oh, Pepi, if you were the sunlight I’d just go out and soak all of you up. I’d catch you in mirrors so I could always look at you. And then, when night starting coming, I’d just start running so fast and blam, go catch morning anywhere it went.”

She closed her eyes at the thought of that, but she didn’t need to see him to feel the kiss he pressed to the side of her forehead.

“And if I was the lightning?”

“Oh, come on, that’s an easy one.”

“Is it?”

“Of course! I’d climb up the church steeple and let you strike me any day of the week, Mami.”

So GO!!! read this fic https://archiveofourown.org/works/35697049/chapters/89007022

[pseudonympls]

Love Blooms - Part 8 - From Fear - Teaser

I shamefully wished, in my deepest, most sordid thoughts, that Bo would show up. Windswept and worn from our time apart, but eyes bright and expectant to see me. I ran away, and a small part of me had expected him to follow. Had silently prayed for it. Prayed for him to follow the pattern that we had carved out over our last year together. And I, forever a slave to my own naivete, believed that he would return to me. Could return to me. 

“Is there-is there any more ginger?” I glanced around the kitchen, laden with pots and pans - all clean, mind you. Communal living took me back to the years where I studied for my nursing degree, how difficult it seemed to merely exist around others, once you were used to living alone.

“I’m sorry Em, I’ve got to accompany Doctor Phillips in surgery, just about to go in,” Wendy said on her way out of the room, “I trust you can find it in the greenhouse?” She said, clearly rushed off her feet, and I couldn’t help but bemoan the fact that it was because of me that everyone else was being worked to the bone. We are only ever as strong as the weakest among us - and this time I knew that it was me. 

“Thick, fibrous green stalks, slender leaves, I checked on them only the other day, they should be ready, just don’t lose the roots, this time eh?” she snickered, her eyes full of the sorrow and pity I had grown to hate, but simultaneously had learnt to be bulletproof against. If I wasn’t being sick I was inwardly mourning the loss of the future me and baby would have, a life without the father - without Bo, not a chance to be loved by him ever again. Because of me. Because of my choices. 

Silvery tendrils of grief laced themselves around my neck, tightening at the knowledge that Bo wouldn’t even know he was to be a father, and would likely die in ignorance. The thought constricted my throat to an uncomfortable degree, but I nodded along to Wendy’s instructions, and made my way to the greenhouse. Past the patients in their gowns reclining on the benches, dotted around the gardens. Past the children, the mobile ones frolicking amongst the tall grasses, playing invisible games. Wishing to be anywhere but in such a place of sickness. Our peacetime a long forgotten memory in this disease of a war. 

The greenhouse was a gorgeous relic from the Victorian era, shrouded in pale glass and delicate wrought iron curves that were telltale of the time period. When everything from flour, to soap, to coal was rationed, the opulence seemed ostentatious, almost brash, nowadays. 

The down right decadence of the architecture was an artefact of more prosperous times. The curved petal-like panes of glass were surrounded by star bright rays pointing outward, and the arched supports were filled with swirls and swoops of metal work reminiscent of jewellery worn by the eponymous Queen herself.

Towering over the smaller planters, running parallel along the length of the building, were trees that reached the full height of the greenhouse, palm leaves that looked so beautifully exotic. Temperatures inside the greenhouse echoed those of the climes it was meant to mimic, the hot, damp interior of the building made of glass caused a dewy sweat to break out on my upper lip. Though I reassured myself that I wouldn’t be in there long, just long enough to retrieve the ginger. Inside lay other plants that weren’t commonly grown in England - pale white orchids and flame like celosia. Despite the hot summer’s weather, it was too risky to plant any of these beautiful buds outside, lest a frost would catch them unawares on a particularly cold night. I spied the unmistakable slender green leaves, curling around in their abundance.  Sweetly nestled beneath the soil was my saving grace, a small tincture of relief, however brief it would be. 

Having brushed the errant soil off of the beige bulbs of ginger I stood back up, only to have my balance suddenly thrown off. As if the whole world were shuddering beneath my feet. An earthquake in central London? Surely not…My hand came out to catch my fall, sliding along the shiny glass as I bumped clumsily back into the greenhouse door. When I eventually righted myself, I felt off kilter, askew, my balance all but gone. I closed my eyes and went to bring my palm to my chest, to still the tremorous thrumming of my heart, before my arm was caught unawares by something. Something large that was jutting out of my light blue dress, straining under my white apron.

I shuddered a cry - my belly thick and swollen beneath me, almost rippled with a movement, and I felt them. Felt them flutter around inside me, so soft and delicate, ‘twould have put a butterfly's wings to shame. At once, something so beautiful and so wanted, yet the circumstance couldn’t have been further from ideal. My breaths were thick and laboured as they swooned around inside me, and I backed out of the greenhouse, letting the ginger drop to the floor in my haste.

The weather that was a balmy summer’s afternoon upon my entrance to the greenhouse, was now a freezing cold winter’s bite that nipped at my skin, and the way the sleet fell against my clothes soaked me rapidly to the bone. All the patients that were enjoying the warm afternoon were gone. The garden an icy, barren wasteland, the deciduous trees spiky in their emptiness, the buds having retreated into the cold winter’s embrace. Thick, grey clouds prevented barely a sliver of daylight from breaking through. It was so dark, and visibility so bad that I struggled to see anything at all, but I did see him.

The iron gates, curved in their splendour beheld the only figure on the horizon. There he stood, tall as giants, his weather worn clothes sticking to him in the frozen rain. His hair a touch longer than I had seen it before, a tentative curl at the ends that just begged to be spun around my finger. The sharp jaw that I had adored had grown a new friend, thick tufts of darker blond graced his jawline, but it was unmistakably him. Unmistakably Bo. A crash of thunder and a flash of light, and both of our faces illuminated as they tilted skyward - the rain hammered ever harder down on us. Slicing against my sensitive skin, now feeling as if it would split open and bleed if I was to stay outside for even a second longer.

“Emily!” I heard his deep boom cleave through the sheets of rain, his loud footfalls splashing into the puddles that lay between us. The gap between us closing, not in my wildest dreams did I imagine I’d have him back with me…with us. Without hesitation my palm came to my tummy, as if to tell our child what they already knew - he was here - he was home.

[nowandajenn]

Blue Christmas- Eight

Pairing: Chris Evans/OC Kelly

Summary: After almost three years of marriage, everyone would tell you that Chris and his wife Kelly are the most stable, solid couple they know. But behind closed doors, things are tense as they keep trying for a baby, to no avail. When a secret threatens to shake their solid marriage to it’s core, will they be able to pick up the pieces?

I do not consent to have my content, whether it be this story or anything else of my creation, posted by a third party on any other platform other than right here without my permission. This blog is 18+ and is not intended for minors. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Heed the warnings.

Warnings: mentions of cheating, smut, language, angst, mentions of miscarriage. If any of this is triggering to you, do not read. 

A/N: This is going to be very dialogue heavy, and will have flashbacks of the night that Chris cheated and everything that happened. Flashbacks will be in italics. Just a warning, this chapter is a BEAST. There’s a lot to unpack, and it’s going to be super emotional. 

December 29

Chris watches from his seat in the comfortable leather recliner in our living room as I twist my wedding and engagement rings around on my finger. It’s a nervous little habit that I do without even really realizing it or thinking about it. A million thoughts cross his mind as he sits silently, waiting for me to say something. 

After taking a few deep breaths to try and steel myself for the conversation that I KNOW that Chris and I need to have, I finally look up from the floor and at him. 

“Do you want a divorce?” Okay, the thousand different times I pictured this conversation happening in my head, that was definitely NOT one of the ways. Apparently my mouth and brain aren’t communicating very well today. 

Chris looks up at me, his expression aghast. 

“Wha-.......” he tries to speak, but is too stunned to even form the words. 

“Is that why you cheated? You don’t want to be with me anymore, so you went somewhere else for whatever is it that you weren’t getting from me?”

“No! Jesus Christ, no! I love you. I love you so much that it hurts. I can’t imagine my life without you. No, I don’t want a divorce.” he tells me. 

“Okay, if that’s not it, then you have to help me out here. Because I don’t understand what possible reason you could have for cheating. It had to be something that I did. Or something I didn’t do. I need you to tell me what happened. Because until I have all the facts and I understand what the hell happened, we can’t move forward.” 

He sits forward in the chair and sighs. 

“What do you want me to tell you?” 

“I want you to tell me what happened that night after we FaceTimed. I want to know what happened between then and the next morning.” I tell him. 

“You KNOW what happened.” he says miserably. 

I shake my head. “No, I know the end result. I want you to walk me through every single thing that happened that night. Everything you were thinking, everything you did.”

“Why? What good is that going to do? What’s the goddamn point? How is me telling you everything that happened going to help ANYTHING? All it’s going to do is hurt you more, and I can’t do that. I won’t.”

“The point is, if we have even the smallest hope of getting through this intact, with our MARRIAGE intact, I need to understand this. I need to know. I need to know, because when I go to sleep at night, all I can see in my head is all the things that I imagine happened that night. And I need to know if what actually happened is better or worse than what I can imagine happened. I have a right, as your wife, to know what you did.” 

Chris looks up, silently pleading with you to not make him do this, but he knows that you’re right. You do deserve to know, even if it’s going to devastate you. 

“After we got off the phone, I had to go right back into interviews and there was two more photo calls we had to do, so by the time we got done it was about 7:30 that night. I was distracted the whole time. I hated that we fought, and I felt like an asshole, and I just wanted to call you back and apologize, but I didn’t have time. Plus, I figured that we both probably needed a little bit of time to cool down. I told myself that I was going to call you that night before I went to bed so we could talk more and I could apologize to you. We all got out of there, and Cate and Robert and the rest of them wanted to go to dinner, so we came back to the hotel, changed, and then went out to eat.” Chris tells me. 

“What time did you get back from dinner?” 

“Around 10, I think. It couldn’t have been much later than that. Everyone else was talking about going out and finding a bar or a club to go to, but I just wanted to come back to the hotel and relax. I wasn’t in the mood to be around a lot of people.” 

I pull my feet up on the couch and tuck them under me. 

“Okay, so you got back to the hotel, and then what did you do?” 

For as tired as he was, Chris couldn’t relax. He tried taking a hot shower, laying in bed watching TV, browsing social media, and flipping through pictures on his phone. Finally, after about 45 minutes and getting more and more keyed up and anxious, he decides to go down to the hotel bar. 

When he walks in, the place is empty except for an older couple seated down at the end and the bartender. Chris slides himself onto one of the stools and the bartender makes her way over to him. 

“Thank God. A friendly face.” she says with a smile. 

Chris glances down the bar at the couple. “They seem pretty friendly.” he remarks. 

“Yeah, but they’ve been here for an hour and they’re literally babying their drinks, and aren’t much for conversation that doesn’t involve each other. I’m bored out of my mind.” 

She stick her hand out. “I’m Jo.”

Chris reaches across the bar and shakes her hand with his own. “Chris. Nice to meet you.”

“So, Chris, what’s your poison?”

“What was her name?” I ask him. He just referred to her as “the bartender” and “she”. 

He runs his hand down his face and over his beard. 

“I don’t......I honestly can’t remember. It was one of those boys names for a girl. You know.....Alex or Max or James.......I don’t......I can’t remember.” 

I cover my face with my hands and take a deep breath. I want to scream already, and he’s not even deep into the story. I shake my head slightly. 

“You slept with this girl, and you don’t even remember her NAME.” I say softly. 

Chris hangs his head. 

“Keep going.” 

She pours him another measure of whiskey, along with a shot for herself. They clink glasses and swallow the amber liquid, letting it burn it’s way down. 

“So what did you and your wife fight about?” she asks him. 

Chris sighs. 

“It’s......it’s complicated.”

“Hey, I’m a bartender, which means that I’m a really great listener. It’s practically a job requirement. You might feel better if you talk about it.” 

“We’re trying to have a baby.”

“Soo....what’s the problem. Trying is the fun part!” 

“We’ve been trying for a year and a half almost, and nothing’s happening. She’s perfect; there’s absolutely nothing wrong with her that would keep her from getting pregnant, but it’s just not happening. And we both want a baby so bad, and the look on her face when......it fucking kills me.” 

He knows that he shouldn’t be telling a complete stranger all of this, especially considering who he is, but the alcohol has loosened his tongue, and if he doesn’t spill his guts to someone, he’s going to explode. 

Jo puts a soft, warm hand over his. 

“I’m sorry, That has to be tough. For both of you.” she says softly. 

“I mean, I guess I never thought that it would take actual work, you know? I assumed that ‘hey, if we just keep having sex, eventually she’s going to get pregnant’ and it would be easy. She’s getting scared and fed up and talking about adoption and fertility doctors, and I hate seeing her so stressed out and upset, and I kind of just.....I said some things and made it worse and I feel like a complete fucking jackass.” 

“What if you guys can’t have kids?” 

“As much as I want to have kids with her, I don’t need them to be happy. As long as I have Kelly in my life, I’ll be perfectly happy. Do I want to be a dad? Yeah, absolutely. But there are so many kids out there that need good homes, so there are other options, but I don’t think that we’re there yet, you know?”

I get up and storm out of the room with Chris right on my heels. 

“Kelly, wait, please.....”

He touches my arm and I spin around to face him, and the look in my eyes makes him fall back a step. 

I’m so pissed off and hurt right now I could spit nails. 

“You......you told her.....EVERYTHING. You told her.....EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING, Chris! Do you even......do you even fucking understand what you did? Like.....” 

I squat down close to the floor and put my head between my knees. My heart is pounding and I’m so worked up that I’m afraid I’m going to pass out if I don’t calm down. And I’m not going anywhere or doing anything until I get the whole damn story. 

“Look, I know-” 

I look up at him incredulously. 

“No! No, you don’t know! You don’t know shit! You fucking betrayed me, in every single sense of the word. You didn’t just fuck her, you told her, a complete stranger, about me. About us trying to have a baby. You told her about things that you never even fucking bothered to tell me! Do you realize that she could go to the press? She could go and spill all of these juicy little secrets that you spilled to her over shots of Jack and have herself a nice little pay day.”

“Kelly, you wanted to know what happened that night, so I’m telling you what happened, despite everything inside of me screaming at me not to. I’m not going to lie to you or keep things from you. You wanted to know everything.” Chris says. 

I squeeze my eyes shut and grit my teeth so hard that my jaw hurts. 

“I can’t look at you right now. I need a break.” I tell him, grabbing my jacket. I grab Dodger’s leash off the peg in the hallway and call for him. 

Dodger trots over, tongue lolling out of his mouth, happy to be going on a walk. 

“I’ll be back in a while.” 

Forty five minutes later, I’m in the utility room stripping off my wet clothes after getting Dodger dry and wiping off his paws. 

Chris stops pacing the kitchen when he sees me walking through the house in my bra and underwear. 

“What happened to your clothes?” he asks. 

“Dodger saw a squirrel and got excited and kind of dragged me through a snow bank.” I sigh. I throw my clothes in the dryer and make my way into our room to get changed. 

“Dodge, come on.....” Chris admonishes. Dodger just jumps up on the bed and curls up. 

I throw on a pair of gray sweatpants and a blue Patriots hoodie that’s hung over the back of the chair in our room and sit down on the side of the bed. 

“I want to know the rest.” I tell Chris. 

He sits down heavily on the end of the bed. 

“No, you don’t.” 

I swallow thickly. “You’re right. I don’t. But it doesn’t matter, because you’re going to tell me anyway.” 

Hours pass with Jo and Chris laughing and talking and flirting back and forth, until it’s 1am and the bar closes for the night. 

“Thanks for sticking around and hanging out tonight. I think I would have died of sheer boredom if you hadn’t.” Jo laughs softly. She offered to walk him back to his room as he was pretty well drunk and a little unsteady on his feet. 

“It was no problem. I didn’t really want to be alone tonight to be honest. I used to do really well on my own. I was used to it, and then......I wasn’t alone.” Chris tells her. 

Once they reach his room, they linger outside for a few minutes, both of them not really wanting the night to end. Jo steps closer to him, knowing exactly what she wants and completely unashamed about it. 

“You should kiss me.” she says softly, looking up at him with big doe eyes. She places her hands on his chest and instead of immediately backing away like he should have, he leans into her touch. 

Chris closes his eyes as he feels his mouth go dry and a strange fluttery feeling in his stomach. He hasn’t really felt this way since....

He opens his eyes and breathes out deeply. “I can’t. I’m married. I’m married and I’m insanely in love with my wife.” 

“So? You should kiss me anyway. I can tell you want to. You’ve been flirting with me all night.” she says, taking a step closer. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise. You need a way to release all this tension you’ve got, and I’m more than willing to help you out anyway I can.” 

Before his brain can scream at him to stop, he’s wrapping his arms around her and covering her mouth with his, kissing her soundly. It’s a battle of teeth and tongues, both of them trying to take control from the other. Without breaking apart, Chris manages to get his key card out of his pocket and gets the door open, pushing both of them through it and slamming it behind them. 

“This never goes beyond this room. We never talk about this ever again.” Chris gasps, pulling away from her just long enough to get the words out. 

“Absolutely.” she agrees. 

Clothes are torn off and tossed to the floor in a frenzy, and as soon as Chris drops his pants and boxers, Jo sinks to her knees and takes him in her mouth, swallowing him almost all the way down. 

“Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Christ, yes, just like that.” he moans out. 

He brings his right hand to her hair, holding it in a makeshift ponytail while his left hand goes to her shoulder. 

She almost makes him lose his mind with the things she can do with her tongue, and within minutes, he’s fucking her face roughly as spit runs down her chin and tears are springing to her eyes from the assault on her throat, but she loves it. She has the man she’s fantasized about for years shoving his cock down her throat, and she’s never been more turned on in her life. She smirks to herself as she wonders if his wife ever sucks him off like THIS. 

When he can’t stand it anymore, Chris pulls her off his dick and takes a few deep breaths. 

“I need a condom.” 

“Right. I have one in my purse.” she tells him as she reaches for her bag and finds it and hands it to him. 

“Get on the bed. On your hands and knees.” he says roughly. While her mouth was wrapped around him, he was mesmerized and couldn’t look away, but now he finds that he doesn’t even want to look at her face. He rolls the condom over his cock, giving it a few strokes before sinking into her from behind.

Tears stream down my face as I process all of what Chris just told me, and I can’t even BREATHE with how devastated I feel. It’s like a hole just got punched through my chest. I try and take a breath in, but it turns into a strangled sob and I drop my head into my hands and just let it out. 

Chris swallows thickly, wiping away his own tears as he watches me fall apart  across from him, wishing that he could do something.....ANYTHING to take all the pain away. To go back and undo everything that he did so you wouldn’t hurt. All he feels is deep, unrelenting shame and he knows in his gut that if you asked for a divorce after hearing all of his sins laid bare, he wouldn’t be surprised or even have the right to be devastated. He made his bed. 

I feel bile rising in my throat, and I stumble to my feet and race to the downstairs bathroom, falling to my knees and vomiting painfully as the image of my husband kissing this woman and fucking her run through my head. I barely notice Chris come into the bathroom until I feel him pulling my hair back and securing it with a hair tie, and rubbing my back softly. I can’t even find the breath or the energy to tell him to get away from me and drop dead. 

I’m so damn tired. Like, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this level of physical and mental exhaustion before. I sink back into the pillows a little more, and look over at Chris. Neither one of us have said a word since he picked me up off the bathroom floor and stood there with his arm around my waist as I brushed my teeth. That was 45 minutes ago. 

“It was just sex?” I ask. 

He exhales. “It was just sex. It was just once.”

I look back up at the ceiling and try and make sense of everything. 

“I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of it. I don’t understand why you would sleep with another woman.”

“I-I don’t know. I was lonely because we were fighting, and I missed you so goddamn much, and I was afraid of what was happening to us with all of the stress and I just......I got drunk, and I did a horrible thing. I did a horrible thing, and I wish that I could take it back. I wish I could take it back so bad it hurts. But I can’t. And I have to live with that for the rest of my life.” Chris says. 

I lift my eyes to meet his. “You were lonely? That’s your excuse? You were lonely, and you were upset. So you stuck your dick in another woman.” 

I stand at the kitchen sink and drain a glass of water in record time, and refill it. Turns out crying all day and then puking can kind of dehydrate you. I can sense Chris behind me, even though he doesn’t say anything. 

“Two years ago, a couple of weeks after you left for Africa to start shooting the movie, I found out I was pregnant. We hadn’t even officially started trying yet, so it came as a pretty big surprise. But I was so happy, and I couldn’t wait to tell you. I didn’t want to tell you over the phone, especially when you were so far away, so I was going to surprise you when you came home. I had it all planned out. I practiced telling you standing in front of the bathroom mirror, just so I could see the stupid happy look on my face.”

I feel tears prick my eyes, and I swallow down the sob that I feel threatening to come out. I turn towards Chris, and the look on his face is heartbreaking. 

“What?” he breathes out. 

“I was at a job.....I was shooting a birthday party for a little girl who was turning one. All I could think about was that that was going to be us eventually, and it made me so happy. Everything was fine, but then I started having horrible pain in my stomach. It got so bad that I collapsed, and the parents called 911 when they realized that I was bleeding. They did an ultrasound at the hospital, but they couldn’t find the baby’s heartbeat. I had already miscarried. You don’t know anything about feeling lonely until you’re by yourself laying on a table with your feet in stirrups while a doctor cleans out your uterus.”

Chris is sunk down in one of the kitchen chairs with his hand over his mouth and tears running down his face. This is the first time he’s hearing any of this. 

“Why didn’t-” his voice cracks, and he takes a minute and clears his throat before he tries again. “Why the hell didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have come home!”

“Chris, you were 8,000 miles away from home. There wasn’t anything you could do. It was too late. They had to do the procedure as soon as possible. I didn’t.....I hadn’t told anyone else that I was pregnant. And I didn’t want to call your mom or sisters because I didn’t want them to find out. I knew if they found out they would call you, and you would be devastated. And I couldn’t do that to you when you were so far away. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you. I was trying to protect you.”

The sound of his fist slamming against the heavy oak table makes me jump. 

“And what about over the last two years? Huh? Don’t you think that I had a right to know? Don’t you think I had the right as your husband, to be there with you? To comfort you? To mourn with you? To even have a fucking clue about what happened?” 

I take a deep breath. 

“You did.  You should have been there. You should have been there with me to hold my hand and cry with me and tell me that it was going to be okay, even though it was a lie. But you weren’t. You were doing your job. I don’t know if you realize it, but when you leave for work or press or whatever it is that you have to leave me for, you’re not the only one who’s lonely. You’re not the only one who has to deal with the silence. But you don’t see me going out and fucking someone else.”

Tears start to swim in my eyes again, and I suddenly feel like if I don’t get out of the house right now, I’m going to suffocate. I’ve been in here with Chris literally all day while we picked apart his affair, and I’m exhausted. I’m hurt and emotional and talking about the baby that we lost just made everything worse.

“I’m gonna go. I just.....I can’t handle anything else today. I know you’re probably really pissed off at me right now, and honestly, the feeling is mutual. Things are already about as bad as they can be, so I’m gonna leave before we have a chance to make it worse.”

The last thing I see before I walk out the door is Chris sitting at the table with his head in his hands, sobbing while Dodger sits on the floor next to him, whining in distress.  

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