#walking on the edge of a mental breakdown all day every day

[dearanakin]

trust you | anakin skywalker: episode VII

Summary: After Anakin's breakdown, you're face to face again. This time, you both talk about his relationship with his former Jedi Master — something he doesn't like to reminisce.

Warnings: None, just vulgar words as always

Word count: 3.9k

Previous chapter | Read on Wattpad

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(Y/N):

I haven't really talked or seen Anakin much after what happened at the event last week. I mean, sure he was always walking down the Temple, probably doing his job and taking care of Luke, but somehow he managed to retreat himself from interacting with other people, even the men he goes on missions with. I watched as he would always show up on the hallways, not looking at anyone either, as his face was holding a different look this time. It seemed... darker, if that's even possible.

I was having lunch with Cal and Adeline - another engineer - in the coffee room. We were trying not to gossip about things that happen around the Temple, but we would always end up going down that path. The redhead was leaning on his chair with his legs sprawled out over the table, his dirty boots almost touching the surface of it. I hate when people don't have good manners, but it's not like he has many flaws like that.

He told me Anakin dismissed him from the next two assignments without giving him a reason, which made him pretty angry at this point. Kestis already had an issue with his partner, and it seemed like the issue was getting over the limits - as he told me. I'm not sure as to why, even though I can think of one motive he would do it. And I know I said we gossip all the time, but that doesn't give me the right to say what happened to him that day.

It literally haunted me. I remember clearly how I ran after him, expecting to question him about the way he ran off like that. Only to find the Jedi Master having a really huge mental breakdown as well as a panic attack. I watched as his eyes turned to yellow in a slight second, throwing me off and catching me off guard. 

I was feeling nauseous watching Anakin almost whimper from the pain he must have been going through. When he sat down and leaned against the wall, saying he's not good for anyone around him. His eyes were carrying so much weight from the panic he just had, I don't think he even has the energy to go out there again and face everyone. His son had no idea his father was on the brink of becoming dark. 

I stood there facing the Jedi, without moving an inch of my body and I had a feeling I needed to do something but I didn't know exactly what it was. Anakin was pressing his face against both of his trembling hands, resting his elbows against his knees. His feet were tapping the floor incessantly, running his fingers through his hair every now and then. 

When I crouched down to his level and tried to gently touch his flesh hand, he flinched and pulled it to himself. He didn't look at me though. I could hear how shallow his breathing still was, how his chest was heaving fast and the way his body struggled to stay steady. This time I sat down next to him and Anakin shuffled, moving a few inches away from me. And that's when I knew I should keep my boundaries and not stay too close. 

"You're gonna be okay" My voice was barely coming out as I was feeling on edge after what I just saw "You need to fight it, Anakin"

"I'm not the Jedi I should be" He shook his head, still hanging it low on his hands. His tremulant voice made my heart flinch a little "I never will be" 

I forced myself to give him some kind of support, enough that he wouldn't feel pressed or annoyed about it. But it didn't work as it should, because he lifted up and in five seconds he was already rushing out the door, leaving me behind.

I've only heard of something like that years ago, something that Palpatine himself mentioned when he was trying to take down the Jedi Order. And then, after that, we got to know about Anakin's history behind his relationship with the Sith. He lost his wife, he lost Obi-Wan, who left him after disagreements. It only left him with his son, and I understand why he keeps his distance, why he doesn't want to let his guard down and won't let Luke make acquaintances.

"Dude just showed up to the office, told me I was dismissed and left the room" Cal explained, shrugging his shoulders. Me and Adeline nodded, exchanging glances knowing Anakin was always this obvious when it comes to his temper.

"Probably for the best, one of these days he's going to cut off your head during missions" She quipped, pulling a laugh out of us.

"I'm usually his wingman, we never really disagreed this much until that day" He didn't have to go into much detail as we recall when I was pushed against a corner and was threatened.

This is what really makes me wonder his limits, because when I saw how fragile he was, I could barely remember he was the same douchebag who cornered me. I wonder if he can actually hold himself up from doing something bad, and how much he can suppress the urge of killing someone. Although, for a few seconds I saw a glimpse of what he could've turned into. And I'm sure it wasn't going to end up well.

I've seen some pretty fucked up things before while being around duels enough to realize that was beyond anything I've come to face in this life.

"Maybe he needs to get laid" Kestis goes on, while using his force to play with a dart before shooting it at the dartboard. "Bullseye!"

He looks at us fascinated with the achievement, both me and Adeline gasping in shock as it was the first time he hit the middle of it.

"You're such a nerd" I roll my eyes in amusement, crossing my arms as we watch him stand up from his seat walking towards the board.

Cal feigns an offended look and slams his palm to his chest. "Coming from the nerd who fixes fucking computers and shit like that, you sure have the audacity!"

We all laugh about it, using the rest of our time to pester each other before going back to work.

I was leaving the room right after the two of them had already left, fishing for the keys in my bag as I closed the door behind me. I'm not usually one person that gets terrified or scared of things with ease, but I wasn't expecting to stumble across a wall of bricks without noticing. The keys drop from my hands, the sound of it echoing through the empty hallway. I grimace before even meeting eyes with the person that stands right in front of me.

And when I do, I watch as his bloodshot eyes and furrowed eyebrows inconspicuously roam across my face before I spill a rushed "I'm so sorry". Two seconds later, he was out of sight just like he pulled a lightspeed of how fast he walked out. Jesus Christ, this man sure is a fucking incognito.

-

It was late in the night when I was still working on Obi's lightsaber grip. For some reason, I thought it would be entertaining if I took some time to at least fix it and maybe give it some meaning back again. My focus was on figuring out how to attach each missing piece together without ruining the entire blade. It was very hard to find all of the components, considering it's a very one of a kind sword. It might seem useless and insignificant to other people, but I've always had feelings for this.

It's the only thing left that makes me feel somewhat closer to him. I might've not been around him much, but whenever we met it was always heartwarming. As someone who admires every Master and every fighter, I've always looked up at him as a role model.

The dim warm light from the corner of the room was bright enough for me to handle the small pieces, while the coffee machine hummed a low sound as it was still on. I didn't notice the presence shuffling through the room, walking toward the cupboard to grab a mug from the cabinet. I lifted my head up, surprised to see Anakin standing there as he was making himself a cup of tea.

He slowly pulls himself the liquid, leaning against the wooden counter fixing his gaze at some blank point, not saying anything. From his demeanor, I can tell he hasn't had a good night of sleep considering his eyes were bloodshot - as always - and his eyes had dark circles around them. I try to ignore his presence and focus on my task, carefully using the tools for each part of the lightsaber. 

I remember when Skywalker seemed stunned when he saw I was holding the grip a while ago, his face held an unreadable expression, but I know he didn't expect to see something that reminds him of his past.

Now that he is here with me, Anakin will probably face it again at some point. Unless he just decides to completely ignore me and walk back to his room without even looking at me. So I just keep myself in my little bubble and ignore him as well.

"Are- Are you okay?" I hear myself ask and roll my eyes to the back of my head. I hate myself.

He clearly doesn't answer or doesn't even mention listening to me, still sipping his tea and staring blankly ahead of him. I huff and shrug, of course he wouldn't say anything to me and it's not like we're friends anyway. He doesn't need to tell me anything either way, I'm just trying to make a small conversation, probably for no reason whatsoever.

It's been a couple of minutes since the man was standing there against the counter, slowly drinking his liquid and minding his own business. Then, I notice the sparkly jewelry around his finger and my eyes go wide. Did he ever take that ring off? Does he walk around with it even after all those years? There are so many things I can't stop wondering and I'm sure it probably doesn't help him get over his past.

This is probably why he's always acting defensive and angry. I have no idea what it's like to lose someone like he lost Padmé, and maybe I would've been in the same situation as he is now. Only I'm not a Jedi, and I'm not holding myself off to avoid getting taken by the dark side.

I hesitated for a few seconds before asking anything that would make me regret living, but I don't think there's anything better than to help the others. And I know he needs it more than anyone I've met until today.

"Can't sleep either?" I try again, not daring to look at him as I handle the tool for the blade emitter of the lightsaber.

He still doesn't answer, I can barely even hear Anakin sipping his tea at this point. I shake my head in disappointment at my decision, like he would give me answers and talk to me as if we were close enough for that.

He doesn't move his lips when he mutters a "uh-uh", his eyes still fixed to the wall across the room. This is better than no answer at all, but Skywalker doesn't feel like he wants to do anything other than just drink the tea. So, I nod and hold the saber grip up to my eye level, scanning the missing pieces.

I unintentionally look from the corner of my eye when I realize he snapped his head to where I was sitting. Anakin squints his blue eyes to adjust his sight from the lack of enough brightness in the room, his right hand almost dropping the mug on the floor when he takes in what I'm holding against the light. 

I literally have to hold my breath for a few seconds in order to disguise the shakiness that was taking over my body from his sudden action. I know this is a big deal to him, but I'm not sure how he's going to react towards it.

"What are you doing?" His raspy tone echoed through the room, his voice was deep and it had a tinge of nostalgia.

I didn't want to look back at him because I know how intimidating his eyes are. And I'm not talking about the color itself, it's more likely the way they bore into your soul and it feeds itself off your fear. I keep my gaze focused on the piece in front of me, my palms getting sweaty.

"Trying to fix the lightsaber. Maybe give it some meaning" I can't speak like I usually do when I'm around other people. This time, it seems like my vocal cords weren't even being used.

His footsteps finally approach the table I'm working on, his body language reluctantly wondering if he should come closer or just stand a few feet away from me. I look up and see how his eyes carry sorrow and pain, while he still stares at the piece being held in my hand. Anakin struggles to let the words come off of his mouth, which he keeps it shut in a thin line, repressing his feelings. I don't push him, and I don't offer any other word because it's not right to.

He slowly pushes a chair back and sits on it, his slumped shoulders seem to be rigid for whatever reason. It's like he's fighting back his own body to stand this close to me, he shifts in his seat and places his mug on the table. Both of his legs are stretched as he rests one foot above the other, crossing his arms like it's shielding him from any harm.

"How do you know how to manage it?" I hear him ask, voice low but still carrying a bit of roughness, like he doesn't want to give in to talking.

.... It's my job? I try not to answer the question with sarcasm, because I don't think he knows everything I work with. But I ignore that thought and give him a polite explanation. I don't want him going full dark side mode on me again.

"Well, there's a lot of things I do that people don't know about" I give him a light chuckle to lighten the mood. "I've learned that with a former Master from the Temple. She thought it would be a nicety to have a different skill"

He nodded, hanging his head low as his chin touched his chest.

"I think he would've loved to see this was fixed. He would never let go of it" I hold the grip tightly, spinning it around my fingers.

There wasn't a straight response to that and I feel like he would agree with my statement. Kenobi never really had an intention of leaving his weapon behind him.

"Yeah, of course" Anakin spat sternly and bitterly. "If he wasn't such a fucking stupid son of a bitch"

I recognize the hurt in his voice. He feels like he was left behind when he decided that he wanted to kill Palpatine. We all heard about it back then, but no one would ever bring it up in a conversation with him. I keep my hands busy, but my body is rigid from his comment.

"The amazing Obi-Wan Kenobi would just love to have his piece of shit of lightsaber after being gone for six fucking years" I watch him as he huffed a sarcastic laugh. "God, you have no idea who he is, do you?"

Anakin shot a hard glance at me, his brows were knitted together and his lips were pouty with anger. He literally could've been compared to a child with the pissed look. I immediately tense and avert my eyes back to the grip, now it seemed pointless talking about the piece with him.

"He fucking left me. After all I've been through all those years, after I've lost everything he decided that the best option was to give up on me and turn his back on me. He didn't want me to be his friend anymore" Anakin started to raise his voice, his body was still in a defensive position while his hands gripped his arms with violence.

"I'm sorry, Anakin. But I think he just didn't want to see you get hurt" Saying it out loud makes me feel like my throat is getting dry and at this point I'm just fiddling with the lightsaber piece.

"No. No, he just thought that leaving me behind would get the weight off his shoulders. He is literally the most selfish asshole I've ever met" I can hear him breathing through his nose, his fingers digging deep into his tunic.

With a sudden motion, I feel his robotic hand reach out to mine and quickly remove the lightsaber handle from me. I gasp at the reaction, watching as Skywalker holds it to his eye level and spins it around.

"You know..." He speaks up again, eyes roaming through the piece. "This used to be something I would kill to have. A lightsaber owned by the one and only would've made me feel like I was worth it"

There's something about the deepness of his voice and the way his eyes wouldn't tear away from the grip that made my stomach drop. I could hear my heart beating too fast in my ears and my hands were shaking so bad that I didn't know how to stop it.

"Anakin, he-"

He let out a breathy laugh, his chest was vibrating and his shoulders were shaking from the laughter. The kind of laugh only an unhinged person would have when they were in their worst state of mine.

"He will never fucking come back, (Y/L/N). And you know why?" He stood from his chair, facing me with his pupils now too dilated for a normal person. This is the first time he mentions my last name when talking to me. "Because he doesn't give a fuck about anyone anymore. He is the one who gave up on us! And what the fuck is this?"

Anakin extended his hand still gripping the weapon, forcing me to look at the piece. I shifted my eyes back to him and watched as he was still frowning. God, don't let this be another breakdown please.

"This is what he fucking left! It wasn't a fucking letter, no. He didn't leave anything remotely close enough made by him. This piece of shit doesn't mean anything!"

He brings the robotic arm back to him again, looking down at it for a few seconds. I can see him panting heavily as his chest raises rapidly from the moment of anger. And then again, he laughs audibly. Anakin starts pacing back and forth, still a few feet away from me. The amount of cursing made my head hurt because it wasn't something I was used to hearing coming from him.

"He made it clear what he wanted when he left me. He said I was his brother, that he loved me. He said it in the past because he'd made up his mind pretty quickly. I was nothing to him anymore!"

I didn't know if I should offer a hug or even sit down with him and just talk him out of his nervousness. But I know better than to actually get in the way of that, when he clearly seems too deep into his thoughts.

"And now what? While you fix this-" He holds the grip up at me "Which isn't even your fucking issue, he is out there doing God-knows-what. Because let me tell you, he doesn't give a shit about you- about us"

"I'm sure he would come back if he could, Anakin. He was too careful enough to look out for all of us, there must be something else-" He didn't let me finish as he took a few steps closer to me.

"Mhmm, yeah. Sure. God, of course!" He says sternly, faking another laugh "Almighty Obi-Wan is so sweet he would never do shit like that, right?"

He was still looking down at me like he needed an answer, his metal hand was gripping the lightsaber grip so tight that it could easily break into pieces. "I asked you a question", Anakin raised his voice.

"I- I don't thin-"

Next thing I knew, he threw the object over the wall with no remorse. It broke into pieces I might never be able to fix, and I gasped from the sudden reaction. I should've seen it coming. Anakin didn't move his body when he did that, only then slightly turning his head to look at me again. On instinct, I stepped backwards from him trying to avoid another fight.

"You should've known by now that he won't ever come back. Stop playing nice to someone who doesn't give a fuck about you. And if you ever even try to get that shit fixed, you'll regret it" He whispered, leaving me dumbfounded from what just happened.

"What the hell was that for?" I throw my arms up and raise my voice at him. That was completely and utterly unnecessary.

"That thing-" He pointed at the broken lightsaber grip before continuing "Isn't your concern anymore!"

I furrow my brows in annoyance and roll my eyes. "And who are you to say what is and isn't my concern? You don't dictate rules here, and especially not at me!"

Anakin straightened his back and balled his hands into fists, inching closer to me, almost bumping his nose into mine. "You are gonna regret touching that thing"

I know I shouldn't gaslight him, but he always strikes a nerve when he starts to act all cocky. "Maybe that's why Obi-Wan left you behind after all"

His expression hardened in a matter of seconds and his eyes darkened, his pupils hiding his blue eyes. "What the fuck did you just say?"

He was fuming with anger, and I'm sure his eyes would become yellow again. I decided to shrug and not give him the answer he expected. Anakin was still panting, still facing me as I tried to avoid eye contact for too long. For a moment, I thought he was going to choke me like he did the last time he was this angry, but he motioned his hands and just stepped away from me.

"You have no idea what you're dealing with, I hope you know that" Anakin muttered before turning on his back and leaving the coffee room, vanishing through the door.

Why do I always open my damn mouth?

I drop to my knees, picking up the broken pieces of the sword with my hands still trembling. Most of it was too shattered to even get fixed, and even if I really wanted to try again, it would take me too long. Long enough for me to give up on the idea, and I was trying to avoid getting killed by Anakin either way.

Taking a sharp breath, I gather the objects in my hands and bring them to the box. "I'm so sorry, Obi-Wan" My voice wavered as I put it in the box.

I don't know what it was, but I suddenly felt an odd sensation close to my body. But when I snapped my head back and looked around myself, I saw nothing.

@jackie-on-the-loose @adorbzliz @himesuedi @kingdomhate @himesuedi @cl0esblogg @littlecoffeeadict @readingthingsonhere

[chenziee]

I really miss writing for myself but hell, if I didn't have deadlines hanging over my head, I would probably never write anything again

[qingxin-dream]

Scara relaxing on the couch with you<3 if u do NSFW having him cockwarm you so he can relax

“𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈𝐭 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬, 𝐈𝐭 𝐏𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬”

summary | today was one of those days where nothing could go right. well, maybe, it’s been like that for awhile. and you know damn well that your loving husband was not about to watch you fall into despair. (art credits: unknown)

warnings | not proofread, reader has a mental breakdown, comfort, profanity, smut [18+, MDNI], female-bodied reader, cockwarming, edging/teasing, orgasm denial, slightly possessive/dominant, marking, breeding kink, creampie

genre | modern au, comfort, smut

word count | 3k

pairing | husband! scaramouche x reader

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The sky had been overcast all day, only putting a damper on your mood. Work has somehow become extra stressful lately with more and more responsibilities piling up. You felt the crushing weight on your shoulders with each passing hour and you couldn’t wait for the clock to hit 5pm.

The last place you wanted to be was at work, away from home, and without your husband, Scaramouche. Even then, your relationship was getting to a point where it was nothing more than bitter roommates. He had missions to complete while you were obligated to work every day. Someone had to be the breadwinner, after all.

Sweet freedom washes over your exhausted body when it’s finally time to go home. You rush outside only to find that the clouds had turned a nasty gray color and wet droplets of rain dotted your suit jacket.

Great, you forgot an umbrella.

The rain was really picking up now, your clothes soaked and your hair flattening into drenched clumps. Running through the downpour, you had to make it another block to your car until you got stopped at an intersection—narrowly avoiding the wave of water a speeding car almost splashed onto you.

Once you practically leaped into your car for safety, the sense of stillness that suddenly permeated the air brought you back down to earth. You were more than overworked. You were burned out, with hot tears freely streaming down your face in a choked sob. Gripping the steering wheel, you slumped your forehead onto your knuckles, shoulders shaking as you cried out all the pressure you had bottled up inside. The rain beat against the windshield, drowning out your agony.

Once you managed to compose yourself with a few sad sniffles here and there, you turned the key in the ignition. Tonight you decided to forget about everything. No stress. No work. Not even a single load of laundry. You couldn’t muster the strength for anything other than some sort of self-care or self-indulgence.

When you walked through the door with an expression bordering on despair, Scaramouche knew you had a rough day. He frowned to himself. Frankly, the distance between you two was a sore spot for him as of late and he was expecting you to lock yourself in the bedroom.

At first, he had been stubborn about the tangible separation pushing you further and further away from him. Foolishly, Scaramouche had tried to drown himself in his busy work and missions, simply trying to ignore it. But after a while, he realized that this damned feeling of alienation and being constantly on edge like some old married couple was ridiculous.

That’s not who he married or the life he signed up for, and Scaramouche found himself determined to finally act like you both loved each other for once.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted you from the couch. Looking down at his casual sweatpants and shirt, you wished you could’ve stripped down and lazed around on the couch this afternoon. Sleep was something you desperately needed. He offers a small olive branch with his softened tone of voice. “Why don’t you get changed and come sit with me? I missed you.”

You drew in a hesitant breath. Perhaps it was your way of attempting to decompress before answering your husband or you were unsure of his intentions. The couch was definitely calling to you, and the prospect of your lover’s comforting arms enveloping you was even more tempting. In a haste, you kicked off your shoes and dropped your bag, nodding with a bit of a pitiful pout on your lips as you went into the bedroom.

Scaramouche perked up slightly upon hearing your return, making room for you on the couch so that he could spoon you just right. As you sat down, his hand immediately went to your hip and he found himself gravitating toward the comforting crevice of your neck. Your skin was colder than he expected from the rain but he was more than willing to share his warmth with you, his fingers venturing up the contour of your waist under your baggy shirt.

“There’s goosebumps on your skin,” he noted with an obvious smile in his voice. “Why don’t you take this off and let me warm you up, hm?”

You gaze at him over your shoulder, catching the subtle seductive intonation of his offer. Despite his pads of his fingers gently caressing and massaging your hip in encouragement, you weren’t entirely sure if you had it in you for too much physical affection. Most of all, you just felt tired.

Yet, Scaramouche always got his way. Maybe it was how the words rolled off his tongue that sparked your imagination in the back of your mind, or that mischievous gleam of excitement in his violet eyes. He had no problem catering to your needs, helping you slowly lift that baggy shirt over your shoulders and tossing it aside. He quickly did the same.

Suddenly, he ensnared you in his arms, burying his nose in your neck and sighing. The feeling of your back pressed against his bare, muscular chest was like a balm soothing his soul. You couldn’t help but chuckle lightly, surprised by his enthusiasm, and pull a heavy blanket over you both.

“Better get rid of these too,” Scaramouche suggested softly into the shell of your ear, tugging at the elastic waistband of your shorts. He generously nuzzled your neck, peppering a few kisses across your sensitive skin to distract you as he easily slipped you out of your bottoms.

Your whimpers were buried in your throat. You purposely tried to stifle it, but the little shiver of your neck and body against his ministrations couldn’t hide your true feelings forever. The slow drag of his hand up your plush thighs, over the round of your hip, and dangerously close to your breasts was merely a confirmation of your suspicions.

“Scara… please,” you murmur, sounding more like a faint plea for peace and relaxation. “My feet hurt so much. I don’t think I can move anymore, let alone do—”

“Shhh, love, you really think I’m going to make you do anything?” he asks rhetorically, the timbre of his sweet words deepening to a level bordering on husky. His hand travels back down the curves of your body with silent reverence, hoping to ease your worries. “I don’t think you realize how hard you’ve been working until it breaks you.”

With a click of his tongue, your husband continues to let his hand journey over every inch of your lovely form. Your breasts, your stomach, your pelvis, hips, thighs… If he was being honest, Scaramouche would never have thought he’d discover someone as perfectly imperfect as you. To not remind you of how much he secretly worships your whole being would be a grave sin in his eyes.

“I feel like I never see you anymore. We never talk anymore,” he mumbles into your shoulder blade, taking his time to kiss and nibble as much of your upper back as he could. You involuntarily arched your back, the sensation of his mouth along your spine sending pulses of electric desire through you. His voice shifts into a possessive growl. “And I miss my wife.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you weep dryly, rolling your head back to relax on him fully. Your thoughts instantly short-circuited at the revelation of his thick bulge pressing into the plush of your ass, tactically held in place by his fingertips digging into your love handle. You were so ready to just melt into him completely, to give in and let him take care of you.

“Don’t ask for my forgiveness,” he quickly interjected to correct you. You could feel the smirk spreading on his face as he leans into you as much as possible. The back of his hand ghosts your inner thigh, nudging it to the side. “Show me how much you want my mercy.”

You were hanging on every syllable that left his lips in a hushed whisper. A featherlight touch grazed near your outer labia, enough to capture your attention like a moth to a flame. That was all it took for him to push your mind over the edge. It was pathetic, really, how you were desperately trying to mentally fill in the blanks and imagine the pleasure of his slender fingers massaging your needy clit.

Scaramouche knew exactly what he was doing. He loved getting a rise out of you. Admiring the subtle contortion of your features in pleasure may be his favorite pastime. Tickling the insides of your thighs and skirting skillfully around the one place you wanted him most, he scoffed in amusement every time you sighed softly in frustration.

“I thought you were going to be nice,” you groaned impatiently, beginning to lazily roll your hips in rhythm with the intermittent brush of his fingers just shy of your cunt.

“I am,” he snickered into your collarbone, his hot breath pouring down your chest and thrilling your skin. “You can’t lie to me. I know you like when I tease you until you’re begging for me to stuff you to the brim.”

Taking your lower lip between your teeth, you managed to defiantly buck your hips forward and finally feel the tantalizing glide of his index and middle fingers between your slick folds. The sweet victory ripped a lewd moan of your lover’s name from your pretty throat. To say you were utterly addicted to the sound of him parting the lips of your glistening pussy might be an understatement.

“Tsk, tsk, good things come to those who wait. Isn’t that what you humans say?” Scaramouche mocks you lightheartedly, though his fingers don’t leave your clit. Rather, he circles the sensitive nub at a tantalizingly slow pace to earn another cock-twitching moan from your angelic mouth. “I could touch you like this all night… unless you’d rather serve your punishment on my cock instead?”

You were too preoccupied with the intoxicating pleasure concentrated on your aching clit, eyelashes resting on your cheeks and jaw slightly agape. Scaramouche chuckled deeply into your ear with satisfaction, returning his lips to your neck but this time with a little more force. His teeth sunk into you, intent on leaving a good bruise.

It would be a clear reminder in the morning of who you belong to.

He sucked a little harder, causing you to yelp in a mixture of both pain and pleasure. His words were muffled against your skin with a gentle scolding. “I asked you a question.”

“C-cock, please,” you nearly choke, starting to grind sloppily onto his hand for some sense of relief. His other arm underneath you tightened, essentially pinning you to the heat radiating from his body from behind.

“Whose cock?” Scaramouche grumbled jealously at your vague plea. He needed to know that you didn’t just want anyone’s cock to fill up your drenched, gummy hole. The intensity of his violet irises demanded an answer, glued to your blissed out and desperate expression. His fingers were hastily stimulating your clit as he intently watched you parse love and lust on the brink of an orgasm.

“Y-your cock! Please! I need it so bad,” you cried out loudly, the threat of tears lingering behind your eyes. He abruptly slapped a hand over your mouth to quiet your moans, and then shoved his hot, veiny cock pulsating with desire across your soaking wet entrance.

Scaramouche couldn’t stop the salacious groans under his breath, wanting you to hear all the ways you make him unravel. He was eager to drag the mushroomed, pink tip of his cock over your clit over and over, occasionally teasing your hole with the pressure of his length trying to nestle itself within you. But he never pushed it all in. Instead, he continued to gather your essence on his cock—the mere thought of cumming in your rosy folds like this and fucking it messily drove him wild.

“Don’t tell me… hnnnghh… that this is all you want, (Y/N),” he grunted with honeyed pleasure, grinding at a little faster rhythm. You were already nearing your climax again, whispering prayers and praises under your breath for Scaramouche to plunge into you and fuck you senseless.

His hand was still tightly covering your mouth, so you simply shake your head and moan breathily to ask for more.

“Mm, good girl,” he mumbles intimately, kissing your ear and nuzzling you affectionately again. “I know my baby is tired and needy, so I’ll let you be my little cocksleeve tonight, okay?”

You nod and hum against his hand enthusiastically.

He takes the opportunity to shower you with a few more kisses, lining the tip of his cock with your entrance once more. Your walls were already squeezing eagerly on the small inch of his tip inside you and he didn’t dare delay any longer. Scaramouche grabs you by the hip and buries the entirety of his thick cock in your slick tightness, his eyebrows crinkling at the feeling of your pussy clenching around him like a vice.

“F-fuck!” Scaramouche curses sharply, bottoming out completely in your aroused cunt. “So good. S-so fucking good, yeah…”

“A-ah, yes! Mm…” you sighed raggedly with ecstasy, pure pleasure and relief washing over you. His huge cock was stretching you perfectly, the lips of your pussy sucking him in at every possible chance. Despite your exhaustion, your husband had wound you up so much that you begged for tiniest semblance of a thrust into your sopping hole. “Oh my god, p-please, fuck me.”

Without warning, you decided to selfishly fuck yourself on his throbbing cock, but Scaramouche instantly snatched your throat. He held you tightly against his pecs and craned your neck with a forceful grip so that you were facing the ceiling, your oxygen partially cut off. The submissive position had your spongy walls dilating in excitement.

“No, no, wait,” he chastised you, his voice cracking slightly at the end as he struggled to adjust to your greedy cunt. “N-Need I remind you, love? Good things come to those who wait; and if you’re lucky, I’ll cum in you.”

He couldn’t believe your pussy was still quaking around his girth, releasing your neck as you nodded obediently. Once he pulled you into him tightly with his strong arms around your stomach, Scaramouche nudged your legs closed so that you could completely envelope his cock. It was incredibly hot every time he shifted to get more comfortable and your walls only swallowed him further. His breathing calmed slightly, wanting to relax with you for the rest of the night deep within your cunt.

“I-It feels too good, Scara,” you whined, cuddling into the pillow on the couch and clutching the warm blanket to your chest.

For the love of Celestia, your body was so exhausted from work but at the same time you wished you had the strength to fuck him like crazy. You made a mental note to wake him up tomorrow morning with the feeling of your folds lubricating his hardened cock, sinking completely onto his impressive length when his pretty indigo eyes sleepily opened for the first time. You’d make sure to hush him and keep his sleeping mask on snugly, fucking him to your heart’s content.

But for now, your husband returned to worshipping the expanse of your soft curves, coaxing you to relax despite the occasional twitch of his cock inside you. Scaramouche’s voice was smooth as silk when he whispered into the crook of your neck, “See? That wasn’t so bad now. Why don’t you turn on your show and I’ll keep this pretty pussy of yours company for as long as you need, hm?”

You both melted into each other’s embrace, connected in every way imaginable for the first time in a long time. The sensation of your lover’s cock nestling into your folds slowly nudged your sweet spot, drawing breathy moans out of you. He thrusted slowly but deeply, marveling at the lust clouding your eyes pushing you just a little bit closer to the edge.

Though Scaramouche was enraptured by the heavenly sound of your pussy slurping his cock, the need burning in his core was beginning to overtake him. “Mm, turn around for me, babe.”

He was gentle and attentive to you as he helped you face him, holding you firmly against his chest and quickly ensuring his cock didn’t leave your cunt for too long. As he stuffed you full, his mouth captured yours in a passionate kiss. His fingers dug into your hair, keeping your lips planted on his as you lazily swirled your tongue on his own and moaned his name.

“Nnghh, can’t take it anymore,” Scaramouche growled hungrily into your mouth, lifting your leg slightly to support you so he could delve his cock deeper. His tone trailed off in a quiet beg, “Lemme breed you, (Y/N). Please…”

“Mhmm,” you agreed without hesitation, cupping your lover’s cheek and kissing him with growing reckless abandon.

He was unequivocally smitten by your ardent claim to his lips, groaning lewdly into the kiss as he began to fuck your desperately pulsating pussy. His grip on you tightened, focusing solely on ravaging your walls until you were on the verge of screaming his praise.

“Hah, that’s it. Goddamn it, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he takes your lower lip between his teeth roughly, plunging ruthlessly and chasing his impending orgasm. “You can take it, you can take it, yeah… you better fucking cum all over me or else, I swear…”

You reeled him in with a firm tug of his dark purple locks, nearly crying in pleasure onto his tongue intermingling with yours. Moaning and whimpering like a whore, you clutched onto your lover like your life depended on it. “O-Oh my god, Scara, shit, I’m cumming! I’m… mmph, f-fucking c-cumming…!”

Scaramouche pounded his cock into your sopping release, a guttural groan escaping him as he generously coated your spasming walls with loads of his hot seed. He kept himself buried in your cum-laden folds, your erotic juices mixing around the base of his cock while he kissed you softly.

“God… you have no idea how much I missed you.”

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated. my masterlist.

[cypherthesuccubus]

Let daddy take the reigns~

Luci x Reader -Part 1- (NSFW) (MDNI)!!!!!!

Warnings: smut, daddy kink, praise kink, body worship, cock worship, pussy worship, gentle dom luci, edging, tail play, she/ her pronouns, vaginal sex, creampie

Other tags: Fluff, angst

Luci is the aftercare king~ ✨

Part 1 of Luci x Reader is here!! Let’s see what adventures await you this time~ 😍✨(sorry for the wait again. Got busy around the house and kids lol 😂)

(Y/N’s P.O.V)

As I walk through the halls of Morningstar manor; my mind couldn’t help but wonder. Looking up at the paintings, strewn across the halls; each one depicting the seemingly happy family of Lucifer, Lilith, and Charlie. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been close friends with Lilith ever since the first time I’ve went to one of their annual gala’s. A friend of mine convinced me to go since there was gonna be free food and drinks; which was the main reason I went. I’ve never been one for social events; they’re always so uncomfortable when you don’t know anyone there. In the end, it turned out better than it did when Queen Lilith at the time; decided to chat up a conversation with me over the punch bowl. It was an instant click of how well her and me got along; we even went on shopping trips together; just having fun like a couple of teenage BFF’s. In turn, also meant that I got to know Lucifer and Charlie better too over time. Charlie is like the perfect mixture of her parents in both looks and personality; very sweet girl to be blessed with as a daughter. Lucifer was definitely silly and fun; always had so many creative ideas with incredible powers to boot. On my end, they always seemed like a picture perfect happy family, but I guess that was a fantasy. During later years, everytime I had a girl’s day with her and Lucifer came up in the conversation; she became more dismissive of him as a subject of topic. I always told her if anything is going on, don’t hesitate to let me know. But, I guess she never really wanted to talk about him as much as she used to. Then one day, her messages and calls never came through when I tried to contact her. As if she went completely silent; not wanting anything to do with me anymore.

Coming to find out, when I went to visit the manor that day to see what was up; there was Lucifer just sitting in his study in a fetal position on the floor. He was having a serious mental breakdown on account of Lilith wanting to separate, and left as soon as the papers were signed. No one knew where she went; just dissipated without as much as a text to let us know she’s still alive. I guess our friendship didn’t mean that much to her either, but Lucifer was definitely suffering more than I was. For the longest time after she left, he would completely lock himself away from everyone; barely eat or sleep due to his constant cry’s of pain and agony every single night. He really loved her so much that he would do anything for her, only to realize it was all a dream and she never wanted to spend the rest of eternity with him after all. For months no one heard from him, not even Charlie the poor girl. Many of the servants tried to get him to do at least something to let them know he’s still alive, but honestly it was mostly to see if they had a job or not. I started making my attempts to persuade him out of the room or at least have a conversation. I would visit 3 times a day for 4 hours; sitting on the floor while leaning against one of the double doors. I would tell him about my day and how things were going in my life, like you do when you hang out with friends. I mostly wanted him to know even thou things didn’t work out with Lilith; doesn’t mean you’re alone. I constantly reassured him that he’ll always have a friend in me when he’s ready to talk. This went on for an entire year without as much as a noise from him.

I soon arrive at the double doors once again; sitting down in the same spot. While sitting against the door once more; talking about how my night went before coming to the manor. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep this up. It’s been an entire year and still nothing! God! I know Lilith was my best friend, but why did she pull something like this?! She has left him in pieces with absolutely no way to put him back together. Before I decided to call a quits for the very last time; I decided to put my all in my final attempt to get him to talk to me. “Luci….I know getting over Lilith is gonna be absolute hell….literally….but you do have Charlie that needs you. She needs her dad more than anything now. She’s been on the news; talking about her dreams towards redemption for sinners. Obviously it didn’t go well and everyone pretty much laughed at her face. She’s pretty much been made a joke to every denizen of hell who watched the news. She must be so hurt right now…..she really needs someone to help support her dreams more than ever now….so please…please come out of there….do it for Charlie….she needs you.”

I waited for what seemed like an eternity; still no response. If that wouldn’t work, nothing will at this point. With a heavy heart, I picked myself off the floor and proceeded down the hallway. As I was at least 4 feet from his door, I picked up a slow clicking sound; coming from behind me. I turned around so fast to see it was his door slowly opening. I walked back to the door; stopping just a foot away to see Luci finally standing in front of the now opened door after so long. He looked a mess; his hair was pointing in many different directions with his clothes was a very loose fitting white shirt; paired with grey sweatpants. It was hanging off his small waist showing the hem of his black boxer breifs. He definitely hasn’t slept very well due to the dark circles under his eyes. I felt so bad for him that this got him in such a state like this. But he finally made the decision to show himself, so I’m gonna help him the best I can to get him back on track.

(Luci’s P.O.V)

She was right! No matter how things are right now, my daughter still needs me! This entire year has been absolutely horrific for me. I still can’t believe that Lilith would do this to me. After everything we’ve been through; obviously meant nothing to her now. I would do anything for her, but I guess it wasn’t mutual. It still baffled me how Lilith’s best friend, (Y/N), would make it her personal mission to help me all this time. I guess in a way, she was hurt by Lilith as well since that was her best friend. Still she came to my door 3 times a day every day for an entire year. I couldn’t ask for a better friend than (Y/N); I’m definitely going to do better for me and my daughter!! “Thank you, (Y/N)….I appreciate you opening my eyes to what’s important.” She smiled as she offered to help me to get cleaned up, along with other self care stuff. She went through my drawers to pull out clean pair of my red and white silk pjs along with clean black boxers. She brings me to the bathroom; sitting me down as she starts the shower while setting up all the essentials. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be out cleaning up the room and putting fresh sheets on your bed.” I smile at her “No problem.” she then takes her leave, shutting the door.

Finally stepping out of the shower, I wrap a towel around my waist as I walk out the bathroom; drying my hair with a second towel. I look around to see my room being spotless for the first time and my bed neatly made. She really didn’t have to do this, but I greatly appreciated it nonetheless. I head to my bed; picking up the clean clothes as I put them on one by one. Finally brushing my hair, the door of my bedroom open with (Y/N) walking in with a tray with a 2 big plates full of pancakes. “How did you know pancakes was one of my favorite comfort foods?” She giggled as she places the tray on the night stand “I’ve noticed that when the servants brought you food; you always took the pancakes over anything else.” I smiled genuinely, grabbing a plate as I proceed to sit in the middle of my bed. (Y/N) grabs her plate as she joins me “Did you want to watch a movie while we eat?” I nodded; taking a bite of the pancakes “Sounds good to me! What should we watch?” She takes a minute to think about her answer; perking up as she got the perfect idea “OOOH! There’s this new comedy movie that just came out actually. We can watch that.” I chuckled; taking another bite “Sounds great!”

The movie was really funny surprisingly. I’ve never been one to watch too much TV since it really scrambles the brain, but I honestly need the distraction. But I didn’t expect the sudden romance between the main guy and his sister’s best friend. I thought she said this was a comedy, maybe she missed that somewhere when looking at the trailer maybe? “Isn’t this a comedy?” She looks at the movie confused, then pulls her phone up to look at the genre of the film. “Oooooh it’s a romantic comedy. I’m so sorry we can change it if you want.” I chuckle as I start waving my hands back and forth “No no no no no! It’s fine! I was just wondering is all.” She puts her phone away; bringing her plate back in her lap “Well ok then! As long as you’re comfortable.” She smiles at me as she pats my shoulder. We turn our attention back to the movie; shoveling another fork full of pancakes into our mouths.

Everything was going good until a certain scene started to unveil. Of course it was implied, but still felt very realistic. The main guy was getting very….intimate with the best friend. Touching and caressing her as they kissed passionately; slowly undressing each other. I clear my throat as I hook my finger into the collar of the silk pjs; pulling out to let some air down my shirt.

I guess she really didn’t know this was going to be in the movie. I glance over at her to see how she was holding up with this. Her cheeks were flushed as she stared wide eyed at the scene. She swallowed hard as I noticed a tiny shift with her crossed legs; trying to inch closer together. I had to look away for she almost caught me staring at her. I feel my cheeks start to heat up from embarrassment. I literally have only been divorced for only a year and here I am; getting flustered over a “intimate” scene while sitting next to (Y/N) being flustered as well. Maybe she should have changed the movie? This should feel wrong to be like this next to your ex wife’s best friend…….but it strangely felt……so right at the same time. What am I thinking?! I’ve been with Lilith for so long and now a year later of not being with her; something like this is making me all hot and bothered so easily?! Maybe I am a little touch deprived due to everything, and rightfully so. But should I feel like this when around (Y/N)? Wouldn’t it be considered betrayal? Well, not really if Lilith left me to begin with. Maybe it’s not so wrong. I mean….I kinda did find (Y/N)…..rather attractive. Maybe….even more than a little~ Maybe…..it wouldn’t hurt to……indulge~

[spidernuggets]

may I request form the Jason prompts thing? 4 and 7, maybe gender neutral or male reader comforts Jason after he gets a flashback or a nightmare or something along those lines?

Jason Todd x Reader

"Can you just- hold my hand.. please" "You. Me. Cuddle."

You probably shouldn't have had your headphones on at full blast this late at night. If you didn't, then you probably would've heard Jason's footsteps sounding heavier than usual. You probably would've noticed the darker bags under his eyes and the frown that looked like it had been permanently stitched to look that way on his face.

You were cooking a late... or early.. you weren't too sure, but you were cooking a good meal for Jason when he'd come home. You didn't think he'd come earlier than expected. So you didn't notice his presence or his depressed state.

All Jason wanted to do was rip his stupid armour off of him, get into something more comfortable, and go to bed. He didn't have it in him right now to give you your daily affection. But during times like this, where Jason is too mentally exhausted to express his love, you always understood. And Jason always appreciated you for it, especially how he constantly tells himself that it isn't fair to you and that you deserve better. But you always shushed him whenever he brought up the subject by giving him a big smooch.

He made a beeline to your shared room to finally change out of his armour. He was having another episode, and you'd always notice and give him space. But you didn't even know he was home. Jason didn't know you didn't know he was home.

You were vibing a little too much to the loud music you were listening to and accidently knocked over a small steel pot that was placed by the edge of the sink.

"Shit," you muttered, rushing over to the fallen pot, placing it in the sink and wiping off the residue on the floor. That's when you heard a loud sound of something falling over. Someone was in your room.

You quickly check your phone. Jason always messaged you when he was on his way home. And there were no recent messages sent by him. Your heart raced, scared an intruder had broken in and was in your room.

So you grabbed the bat that leaned against the corner of the kitchen, holding it up in the air, ready to swing at whoever had the dumb idea of breaking in. You were relieved that Jason taught you simple defence strategies.

When you shoulder your way through the door, you are ready to swing, but you immediately stop. Your eyes widen when you say a crying Jason Todd tucked away in the corner of your shared bedroom, wearing nothing but his boxers, sitting up in a foetal position, muttering quiet pleads.

"No- no, no please. Let me- let me go, stop," you can barely hear what he's saying. His voice sounds hoarse and dry, and his chest is heaving. His breathing is heavy and unsteady.

When you softly call out his name, Jason slowly lofts his head up. But what he sees instead of you holding the bat, it's the Joker holding that damn crowbar.

"NO," he starts screaming, holding his arms out in defence, trying to back into the wall impossibly closer. "GET- GET THE FUCK AWAY," his voice cracks and he starts choking on his extremely dry throat. You know that with what he sees, you can't get yourself any closer. So you slowly put your hands up to surrender, making sure Jason sees, and you slowly walk out the door and gently shut it behind you.

You know that Jason needs his space to calm down. Every breakdown takes a different length of time when Jason would calm down. Sometimes, it would be 15 minutes. Other times, it would be a day or two. Either way, you patiently wait for him to come back to you.

You made yourself a good, hot cup of chai and sat on the couch, reading Jason's annotated 'Lord of the Flies'. You make wure not to where your headphones now, preparing your love and care for when Jason comes around.

You turn your head when you hear the bedroom door quietly open, followed by sniffles and the sounds of Jason's feet padding along the wooden floorboards. You send him a soft smile as he walks over to you. But he only stops at a distance.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, avoiding eye contact. He couldn't look at you in fear that you'd be looking at him in fear or.. or hate or anger. He couldn't bear seeing those kinds of looks in your eyes.

You sigh, and Jason thinks that you'd scream at him back or something. But the little voice in his head is yelling at you, saying that you should be screaming at him. Because you don't deserve to be with someone who can't control what he sees or when he has a meltdown.

But you stand up, closing the distance towards you, slowly and cautiously reaching your hands up towards his face, cradling his cheeks as you caress them with your thumbs.

"You wanna talk about what happened?" You ask. You wanted to laugh at the thought of if you asked that any softer, Jason wouldn't have heard you the first time. But right now, you're concerned about the state of him.

"I- I just.." He hiccups, and you whisper to him, telling him to take his time. "A kid died tonight. Bevause I wasn't fast enough. I wasn't able to save her. She was just a child, Y/n," he cries, fresh tears rolling down over the dried ones. "Bruce and Dick sent me home early because I almost killed the guy who killed her, and..." He stops, choking out a sob. You run your fingers through his hair, listening and patiently waiting for him to continue.

"Bruce said that..." He beginds to say, but his sentence dies out. He doesn't know if he can repeat what Vruce had told him.

"What? What did Bruce say?" You ask. You appreciated Bruce's dedication and commitment as Batman, and you respected his morals of not acting as jury, judge, and executiomer. But most times, Bruce makes a lot of decisions where he believes that he always makes the right decision, where he's a hypocrite towards his morals. Minus the executioner. He shows this off by making decisions on what he decided is best for his sons. And sometimes, Bruce makes the wrong decision.

"He said that if I killed the guy, I might as well be at the same level of sanity as the Joker," he says quietly, a whine coming out at the end followed by another sob.

Sorry, what?

Your soft expression turns into a sharp glare. Bruce said what? You always knew Bruce said shit he didn't mean just to get his point across, but this is crossing a line that you will not excuse.

"He said what?" You snarled. You wanted to slam Bruce's head through the wall.

Jason continues his explanation. "When I came home, I just wanted to go to bed. But- but I heard something fall. It was loud. It... It just sounded like the crowbar."

You instantly felt so much guilt. You weren't focused, and you knocked over the pot. You were part of the reason that Jason had a massive freak out.

You held his face once more, bringing his head closer to yours, leaning your forhead against his.

"I'm so sorry, my love. That was my fault," you admit. "I wasn't focused, I had my music on so loud, I accidently knocked over a pot- I'm so, so sorry."

Jason sniffles once more. "It's okay," he weakly says. "Just wanna sleep."

You nod, letting go of his face and following him into your room.

When he gets into bed, you notice how he lies himself at the edge of the bed. This tells you how he just needs your presence but minimum contact.

"You need a pillow in between?" You ask as you sat on the bed. In times similar to this, you'd put a pillow in between the two of you so no sudden contact would scare Jason.

"No.. no I.." He hesitates as you tilt your head in confusion. ""Can you just- hold my hand.. please" He asks, looking up at you.

You smile, lying yourself at a safe distance so you wouldn't roll over to Jason in your sleep. You tuck one arm under your head, your other hand reaching out to hold his. Jason moves his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours. And for the first time for the night, he feels like he can breathe.

He closes his eyes, hoping to fall asleep soon. And you stay up, watching over him til he falls asleep. And maybe you stayed awake a little longer to make sure he doesn't have a nightmare.

The next morning, you wake up significantly earlier than you normally would. You look to your side and see your hand still connected to Jason's. You slowly let go, pausing when Jason starts stirring, but you carefully get out of bed when he continues to sleep peacefully.

You took the opportunity to start making Jason's favourite breakfast. A quick fried egg and avocado toast. But before yoh can even take the pan out, you hear Jason's heavy footsteps come out of the bedroom.

"Hi, Jay. I'm just gonna make you some breakfast, yeah?" You say. When you turn around, you see that Jason is definitely in a happier mood than yesterday, and you smile widely.

But Jason shakes his head at your offer. He points to you, then himself, then throws his thumb behind him, pointing towards your bedroom.

"You. Me. Cuddle." He says, a small smile tugging at his lips, and this gets you giddy.

"What about breakfast? You didn't eat last night," you say concerned. But Jason just scoffs, walking towards you and throwing you over his shoulder, giving your butt a light slap before walking towards your room.

"Someone wole up in the right side of the bed," you laugh as Jason lays you down on the bed.

He walks around the bed, lying himself down too, opening his arms, waiting for you to come into his embrace, in which you happily throw yourself into.

Your arms are wrapped around his torso as his own are cradling your figure. His lips are resting against your forhead while your head is laod on his chest.

"Thank you," he mutters. "For last night."

"Of course, Jay," you reply. "I'm always going to be here for you. No matter what," you promise.

"And thanks for putting up with me," he says even quieter, feeling his lips mumble against your forhead.

Your brows knot together, your head lifting up to look at him. "Jason, I don't 'put up with you'," you say in disbelief. "I do this because I love you. Unconditionally. Why wouldn't I be there for my favourite person?" You say, pressing a kiss on his chin.

Jason smiles. Even if a part of him will always think you deserve better than him, he just lives in the moment and basks in your everlasting love.

"I love you," he says.

"I love you too."

[darlingshane]

bear the brunt

Michael Berzatto x GN!Reader

Summary: Michael is down after the Christmas incident, and you're there to make him feel better.

CW: 18+, smut, hand job (m. receiving), mild angst, established relationship.

Word Count: 1.1k

— Links: AO3 // Michael Masterlist.

You're mindlessly scrolling through your phone when the sound of the front door pulls your eyes away from the screen. You look at the time above to see it's past midnight. It's not an unusual hour for Michael to come back, but lately it has been taking him longer to return home after work.

Your boyfriend has been on edge lately – more than usual you’d say. And you can't blame him. If someone in your family had a mental breakdown on Christmas that ended with them driving the car into the house, you'd be on edge too.

The frustration of his heavy steps is palpable on the wooden boards when he steps into the apartment. The place is small enough for you to hear everything he does. From when he tosses his keys on the bowl on the table, to when he opens the fridge to take a fresh gulp of his drink of choice, to when he goes to the bathroom.

It's impossible to say what's in his head nowadays, or if it's anything in there– other than him obsessing over the dinner incident. It’s taking a huge toll over him, draining every ounce of hope he ever had, and you feel powerless against it. It has its claws on him, pulling him away from you, but you’re not going to let it. You’ve come too far to give up on him now when he needs you more than ever.

Even though you live together, and see each other every day, it feels like he’s disappearing on you. Sometimes when he comes back late like today, you’re already asleep; and by the time you leave in the morning he’s passed out on the other side of the bed.

Tonight, you’ve stayed awake. You took a long nap earlier so you could keep your eyes open for a few more hours until he got home.

He’s so tired, he can’t even express shock when finds you awake when he enters the room.

“Hey, sweetheart. You still up?” He tries to force a smile, but it’s as faint as the lifespan of a snowflake.

“I was waiting for you. I miss you.” It’s the God-honest truth. You miss talking to him, and laughing with him, and cuddling with him… all of it.

Placing the phone aside on the nightstand, you watch him lazily slip out of his clothes, leaving them haphazardly on the chair before sitting down on the edge of the bed in his underwear.

Under the soft light of your night lamp his skin glows almost as pale as the snow pooling on the windowsill. When your hand reaches to hold his arm, it feels just as cold as you thought.

“I’m here now, baby,” his voice is hoarse, tired under that heavy layer of brunt.

Kneeling on the mattress, you inch closer to him to cup his bearded face in your hands, looking directly into his eyes. They're dry and aloof, avoiding at all costs lock with yours for more than two seconds at a time.

“Did you walk here?”

He nods. “Car wasn’t starting.”

“You should’ve called me, bear.” You rub your nose against his, warming it with yours, noticing one of his palms landing on your thigh.

“Didn’t wanna wake you up.”

“I’m up. Even when I’m not. You call me, okay? I'm here. I'm always here for you, bear.”

“I know, baby,” he says, letting the corners of his lips curve up gently into a real smile this time.

His thumb rubs small circles on your leg as you place a small kiss on his lips.

You pull your head back and smile at him softly, pushing aside a strand of hair away from his forehead before kissing him again; firmer this time.

It takes him a long second to respond and kiss you back, but he gives in easily and sighs in your mouth as if he was taking the first breath in years. You wish you could do or say anything else to lighten his burden, but this is the only trick you got— and it’s one that works so damn well every damn time.

He doesn’t have to tell you how much he misses you or loves you, cause his tongue slowly spells that for you as it curls with yours. You can feel all his aches and desires burning deep in your mouth as you shift together in bed. You invite him to lay down, placing his head gently on the pillow, guiding him to safety. Though you can’t dull all that pain, you can feel it temporarily fading as you devote yourself to push away all his worries and fears.

Curled against his side, your fingers dance across his torso, warming the surface, touch after touch, kiss after kiss. While the wind blows icy and dark outside the fogged window, inside your room the air turns warm and delicate, wrapping him like a blanket.

As his skin gains more color and warmth, you smooth your palm down his stomach, gliding over the elastic of his boxers to fondle his bulge. He makes a small noise in your mouth when your fingers curl around him over the fabric of his underwear.

“Like that, bear?” you purr in between kisses. “Should I keep going?”

“Uh-hmm,” one of his hands slides at your nape as his tongue slowly wakes to fight with yours.

Your hand softly jerks up and down, getting him to grow to full completion. It's then that you tuck your hand under the waistband to feel his velvety taut hardness in your palm.

His body temperature rises as you exert your wrist to give him as much pleasure as you possibly can. This man needs a good stress reliever and by the way he squirms and throbs in your hand makes it clear that he needed one.

Reveling in his arousal and the way his shaft fills your fist, you pull your head back and watch him pant unevenly, burying his grunts in his throat.

When his eyes are drawn shut you tell him to open them.

“Let me see you come, bear,” you repeat. “Open your eyes.”

You bite your lip and squeeze his cock a little harder, observing his beautiful browns open and become glossy as they drown in nothing pleasure at the mercy of the sharp movement of your wrist.

“Fuck…” he mutters, using a tight hand to frame your jaw and pull your face closer to him while you adamantly push him over the edge to have him spill his seed all over your fist.

You love having the control of making his body shake when the orgasm takes control of him for those few seconds he touches the highest point of his orgasm. It might have not been the most explosive one you’ve ever given him, but you can tell that is just what he needed to clear his mind.

[lulubelle814]

Her Savior

Another hot day.  Another afternoon at Starbucks.  Another day searching for jobs online.  Penny loved coming here.  The baristas were always nice and welcoming.  The more she went, the more they started to recognize her.

“Hey Penny!”  Kaelin greeted her.  She and Gab were working today, two of her favorites.  “Another strawberry acai refresher for ya?”

Penny nodded.  “Yes, please.  And a blueberry muffin?”  They rang her up, and she sat down at her favorite table.  There was no rhyme or reason as to why it was her favorite, but it was where she preferred to sit.  Perhaps it’s because it was in somewhat close proximity to both the register and the restrooms.  Perhaps it’s because it gave her a great view of people coming and going.  

She enjoyed people watching, especially when she first saw him.  He was tall with pale skin and long-ish black hair.  Usually it was down.  Every once in a while though, he had it up in a man bun, giving her a nice view of his neck and jawline.  He usually came in, placed his order, and then left with his drink.  Once in a while, he’d stay for a bit to either do a few things on his computer or read a book.

Hearing the front door open, she glanced to see who it was, hoping it’d be him.  It wasn’t.  There was this strange guy who’d started coming in.  ‘Strange isn’t always bad,’ she’d remind herself.  Well, that was until the day the strange guy decided to approach her.  He sneezed, and she automatically said “bless you.”  It was common courtesy, right?

“I heard you say God bless you.”

Penny nodded.  “Well, I really just said bless you, but yes.”

“I see you have a sticker on your laptop that says ‘one mental breakdown later.’  Do you have mental health issues?”  He sat himself down at her small table.

Something about how he spoke put her on edge.  “Um, yes.”

“What do you have?”

‘What I have right now is the strong desire for you to leave,’ she thought to herself, but she was too nice to say that.  “Um, anxiety, depression, and bipolar.”

“I have depression and schizophrenia.  Do you ever have manic episodes?”

“Uh…..no.”

Penny heard the front door open and spotted her crush walking in.

Turning back to the odd stranger, she tried to tell him she was working on applying for jobs, but he kept talking.  It took 3 attempts to make him understand she wanted, no, needed to focus on her job search until he got the hint and went back to his own table to her great relief.

By the time all was said and done, her handsome crush got his order and departed.

Two days later, she came in, placed her order, and sat down once more.  There was a new book she’d gotten about lexicology on obscure words (The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows), and Penny wanted to look through it.  She’d started to, briefly, but decided she should spend more time right now looking online for jobs and placed the book just to the right of her computer.

So focused on her online searches, she didn’t realize the strange guy was back until he came up to her and asked if he could look at the book she had on the table as he reached for it.  She tried to say no, politely picked up the book, and held it close to her.  Penny didn’t care for people she didn’t know touching her things.

“It looks interesting.  One quick look?”  

She was becoming more and more uncomfortable, and this guy just didn’t seem to get it.  “Sorry, but no.”

“It’s just a book.  Why won’t you let me see it?”

Before she could respond, she felt someone place a hand on the back of her chair and heard the most beautiful tenor british voice.  “Why are you making my girlfriend uncomfortable?  She said no.  A gentleman knows that when a lady says no, you cease and walk away.”

Looking up, it was her crush.  He was even more handsome up front and smelled delectable.

“Honey, you made it!”  She knew to play along.  “Yes, darling.  Sorry I’m late.”

“Dude, it’s just a book.”  The strange guy persisted.

“Yes, but the book belongs to her.  You have no rights.  I’m going to have to ask you to leave her alone.”

“And if I don’t?”  The creepy guy crossed his arms.

“Then I’ll have to insist you leave.”  The British hottie crossed his arms as he stood up straight.  He was easily over 6 feet tall with lean muscles compared to the strange guy who was more than half a foot shorter than him and scrawny.

This move by her savior finally scared off the creepy guy who went back to his table.

The British gentleman leaned down carefully.  “I will not be offended if you say no, but I could sit at your table for a bit?  Help ensure he leaves you alone?”

Penny nodded.  “Yes, of course.”

He pulled out the chair across from her and put down his bag before placing his own order.  He then came to sit with her and work on his own computer things.  A few minutes into this, he looked up.  “I’m so sorry.  I forgot to introduce myself.  I’m Loki.”  He smiled. 

‘His smile could light up the world,’ she thought.  “I’m Penny.  Thank you so much for your help.  I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help.  That’s the second time he’s accosted me.”  

“Hopefully he’ll know to leave you alone now.  You shouldn’t have to feel uncomfortable coming here.”

They ended up back into a companionable silence, each on their own computer.  Well, that was until she received another rejection email causing her to groan.

“Is everything alright?”  Looking up, she could see he was concerned.

“Sorry.  Just another rejection notice.  I’ve lost count of how many jobs I’ve applied for.”

He gave her a sympathetic smile.  “I understand.  Job hunts are often painful.  What sort of jobs are you looking for, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Mostly clerical work, assistant positions.  That kind of thing.”

He opened his bag and searched until he found it and handed her a business card.  “I have a client who’s looking for an administrative assistant position.  He hates having to post inquiries on job boards.  A number of responses he’s been receiving are nothing more than spam at best.  Give him a call and tell him Loki sent you.”

And that’s exactly what she did the next day.  “I know it’s kind of a crazy ask, but is there any chance you could come in this afternoon for an interview?”  She said she could.  At 3 pm, she arrived at his office dressed impeccably along with a copy of her resume.  They spoke for about 30 minutes, and he was very impressed with her, offering her the job on the spot.  He listed the hourly pay, benefits, and other items to which she agreed and would start the following Monday.

The next day, she went back to the same Starbucks with a book and her laptop, but this time it was to relax, read, and maybe do some writing, something she enjoyed doing in her spare time.  Really, though, she came in hopes of running into Loki again.

20 minutes later, her wish was granted.  When he walked into the lobby, he looked around as if he were looking for someone and then smiled brightly when he spotted her.  “Good afternoon!  It’s great to see you again!”  He gestured to the chair opposite her, silently asking if he could join her, and she nodded.

“Thank you so much for referring me to your friend!”

Loki smiled yet again.  “I’m so glad you called him.  I take it you may have already gone in to interview?”

Penny nodded.  “Yesterday afternoon, actually, and he offered me a job!  I wanted to say thanks.”

“No thanks needed from such a nice and beautiful lady.”  His words made her blush.  “I must admit.  I’ve noticed you here before, and I’ve come to look forward to seeing you here.  I wasn’t sure how to approach you until that man started giving you grief.”

Oh dear heavens.  He noticed her, too!  ‘Play it cool, Penny,’ she thought to herself.  “I’m very glad you did.  Not only did you rescue me, you helped me find a job.  Let me buy you a drink as a thank you?”

He tried to decline, but she insisted, saying it was the least she could do.  This time, instead of doing computer work, they ended up talking, not noticing how much time had passed until it was announced that the coffee shop was closing in 15 minutes.

He tried to apologize to her.  “I’m so sorry.  I’ve taken up so much of your time.”

“Don’t be sorry.  I’ve enjoyed talking to you.”  She tried to reassure him.

“Would I…..I mean, could I maybe get your number?  Maybe we could go for dinner sometime?”

She agreed, and they exchanged numbers.  She had a feeling that this was the start of something incredible.

Picture by @elfpunk

Taglist: @vbecker10

If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know!

[minminyoonjii]

Silent Cry [Straykids x Stay]

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

💜Rules and Guidelines

🕯Summary:

You had a rough day, bottling up your feelings, wishing that someone would hear you. What if someone did?

The reader is Stay, Gender Neutral comfort fic.

🔗https://archiveofourown.org/works/40486299

🌹CW:

Detailed Mental Breakdown|Anxiety Attack|Hurt with Comfort|Hyperventilation|Fluffy Angst|Comfort Fic

💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.

🍄Wordcount: 2K

Sighing deeply, you pushed open your room door. 'Safe' you thought unconsciously, shutting the door softly. The doorknob cackled, signalling that it was locked. A breath of relief escaped your lips, and dreadfully tears soon followed. Tears dripped down your cheeks as you stood still in the middle of your room, hesitant to succumb to the comfort of your sheets, not wishing to taint them with the pain buried in your heart. Hiccups of sobs echoed softly, hands trembling with your nails digging into your palm. A crack of thunder caused your breath to hitch loudly as you flinched. Hand instinctively raised to cover your mouth. You held your breath, listening to every creak before allowing yourself to cry more.

Pressure pressing down on your shoulders, from knowing too much, from knowing too little. It scared you. You held yourself, body curling into itself, trying to protect the remains of the inner child you kept hidden away. "It hurts," you whispered, barely a puff of air escaping your lips. Hands shaking through the blurry vision coating your senses. You swallowed dryly, trying to catch your breath. Short gasps and inhales were all you could take. Panic filled your senses, trying desperately to catch a breath of air into your system. Your hands held onto themselves, nails bedding moon crests on your skin. Fear clouded your judgement, pulling you deeper into sorrow.

Felix's breath hitched, stumbling on his own feet. The members' heard the loud thud of Felix's arm hitting the wall as he tried to steady himself. Chan held onto his shoulders "It's happening again isn't it?" he asked, wrapping Felix's arm around his shoulder. Felix held his head, nodding weakly "Hyung, they're hurting," he whispered, gripping the hem of Chan's shirt. Chan nodded, rubbing Felix's back "I know, I feel it too," he said, kissing Felix's forehead. Jisung walked over to his twin, wrapping his arms around his waist. Felix exhaled deeply, burying his face into Jisung's neck. Chan looked up "We better head home," he said, watching the members nod in agreement.

Slowly you began regaining your breath, counting with each intake of air. Your hands trembled still, shaking the remaining adrenaline out of your system. You sighed, taking a seat on your bed. A tiny skzoo entered the corner of your vision, gently you turned the skzoo around making it face the other way. Shame crawled up your body, coating your every thought. You wanted to reach out, you were desperate to be heard but guilt stopped you. You gulped, parting your lips only to feel the tears that went dormant come back. Impact hitting harsher than earlier, your body curling into itself. Heart-wrenching silent cries soaked your shirt, leaving only the loud puffs of air to be the only sound indicating a presence in the cold room.

Overwhelmed by your emotions, you didn't hear the door slowly open. You always knew deep down that lock wasn't going to keep you safe. Chan frowned, watching your curled figure from the door frame. He clenched his jaw, trying to refrain from running towards you, to comfort you, to reassure you. Your vulnerability screamed through your actions, desperately hanging on to what's left of your sanity. So close to the edge but also a coward for not immediately jumping. Chan knocked on your opened door, causing you to break out of your trance. Jolting, you frantically wiped your tears as if they were acid burning your skin. You hesitated to look up, afraid of the expression he would have. You took a few short breaths before finding the courage to look up.

Chan did nothing but looked at you with a softened smile. You felt your chest clench, choking on a sob desperately crawling to escape. Chan walked towards you carefully, paying attention to your expressions as he made his way closer. You whimpered, jaw clenching, feeling your teeth grind against each other. Chan stopped, smile not leaving his face "Are you alright, little one?" he whispered, looking up at you as he sat down on the floor below you. You tried so hard to force yourself to choke up an "I'm okay," but it burned to say a word. Your lips quivered, head shaking "No," you whispered, breaking the last string of hesitance. A raw, gut-wrenching sob escaped your lips.

Tears fell freely, finally able to take a chip of pressure off the block. Chan smiled warmly "Can I hold you, little one?" he asked, looking up at you. You nodded frantically, "Please," you whispered and it didn't take long for Chan to carry you, setting you gently on his lap. Chan rubbed your back softly, whispering gentle words of affection. Tears dripped down your cheeks, staining his shirt but he paid no mind. He stroked your hair "Do you want to tell me what bothered you, sweetheart?" he asked, quietly. You shook your head, burying it deeper into the crook of his neck. Chan chuckled softly "I got you, stay," he whispered, leaving a gentle peck on your forehead.

You exhaled softly, relaxing into his hold. "Can Binnie come in darling? He's been standing by the door for some time," Chan said, taking your hand into his own. You looked over to your door, noticing Changbin rubbing his hands, waiting for the right moment to enter. You looked up at Chan, nodding softly. Chan nodded, gesturing Changbin over. Changbin kneeled in front of you, rubbing your thighs gently "Hello baby, feeling better?" he asked softly. You nodded, locking eyes with him. Changbin smiled warmly "Mind telling us what happened stay?" he asked. You pouted, sniffling as tears threatened to spill again. Changbin noticed, eyes widening "You don't have to tell if you don't want to agi-yah," he said fanatically.

Chan chuckled softly, chest rumbling against your back. You wanted to reach out and so you did telling them your problems, your fears, what built up to it and what you think will happen. Changbin listened intently, taking your every word into consideration. Chan wrapped his arms tighter around your waist nodding as you continued to speak. You exhaled, finally able to be heard. Changbin took your hand, kissing your palm lightly "Agi-yah you can take your own pace, you don't have to force yourself to keep up," he said, looking up at you. You whimpered, biting down on your tongue "I know but it's easier said than done," you whispered, Chan, nodded lightly "It's harder to ignore it when it's happening right in front of you," he said, letting you know that he understood.

Changbin sighed softly, letting you thread your fingers through his hair. The rest of the members peeked through the door, waiting till it was safe to come in. You noticed the other presence and shivered. Chan chuckled softly "Permission our dear stay to allow the rest of the family to come in?" he asked playfully, fingers tickling your sides. You giggled softly, nodding at Chan's question. The rest of the members slowly filled in the room, and the Jilix twins immediately cosied up against Chan, leaving gentle touches on your skin. Seungmin smiled warmly, leaning over Changbin to lay a soft kiss against your cheek. Minho stroked your hair gently, smiling as you leaned into his touches. Jeongin leaned his head beside Changbin, letting you trace his features. Hyunjin came in last, tilting a cup of water for you to sip on, smiling gently before setting the cup down when you're done.

Felix looked at you, studying your features. "Stay, what happened lovely?" he asked carefully. You sighed, looking at the eight pairs of eyes staring at you "I'm scared to take the first step, but I'm also scared of being left behind, it's so contradicting and frustrating, I couldn't take it anymore," you said, anger and disappointment evident in your tone. Felix nodded, acknowledging your words "You know you did your best but it feels like time is slipping from your grasp," he said, looking at you. You fidgeted with your nails, "Yeah," you whispered, tilting your head down. Jisung tilted your chin facing him "It's normal agi-ah, don't feel ashamed, you hear me?" he said, bopping his head with each word.

You giggled softly, nodding at his words. You sighed, leaning deeper into Chan's hold "We're proud of you," Minho mumbled, looking at you. Your breath hitched after hearing him say that. Minho nodded "You should know that we're proud of whatever you do, may it be from waking up or going to jail for taking my advice too seriously. We'll always be proud of you," Minho said booping your cheek. You pouted, sniffling at his words "Aigoo, you made the baby cry, Minho hyung," Seungmin said, smacking Minho's back playfully. A smile played on your lips watching 2Min bicker. Hyunjin sighed, pinching your cheek lovingly "Sneaky little stay, watching the members bicker" he teased. You whined, glaring playfully at Hyunjin.

Chan chuckled, pinching your cheek as well "Is that so?" he asked, watching your ears tint red. Jeongin huffed, swatting the teasing hands surrounding you and pulling you onto his lap "Don't tease our baby, look their ears are heating up because of you," he scolded, using the iconic grandma Jeongin voice. Jisung snorted a laugh, muffled behind his palm. Jeongin noticed "Aish, just like your father," he said, ignoring the scandalous gasp Felix made as the members laughed to their heart's content. You giggled, hiding your smile against his shoulder. Jeongin chuckled, rubbing your back softly. "Such a bad influence for our stay," he teased, stroking your cheek. Changbin pressed his tongue against his cheek "Ya! We're a good influence," he said, looking at Jeongin.

Jeongin smacked his shoulder "How dare you talk to your grandma informally. Kids these days," he scolded, shaking his head. Hyunjin burst out laughing, holding his stomach as he rolled onto his back. Changbin winced playfully "Grandma's so scary," he said, rubbing his shoulder. You watched the members fondly, heartwarming from the love filling the room. Felix noticed the subtle smile, etching your lips "Feeling better than before?" he asked softly, stroking your hair. You nodded, smiling brightly "Yeah," you said, leaning against his touch. Chan smiled warmly, gently petting your head "You don't have to keep everything to yourself anymore, little one," he said.

"If you can't find anyone to lean onto, we'll always be here, agi-ah," Changbin said, nodding his head. "If you want a break, you can have one. If you need to slow down, you can do that too. Don't feel guilty for taking care of yourself, understood?" Jisung asked. You giggled "Understood," you replied as a satisfied smile etched his lips. Minho pulled you over to him causing Seungmin to roll his eyes "Hyung, they're not a doll," he said, holding your hand. Minho glared at him "I know, I just wanted to hold them," he said, hooking his chin on your shoulder. Seungmin sighed "Your health is the priority, eat well like our dweakki," he said with a straight face.

Changbin looked at Seungmin, utterly betrayed "Yah!" he shouted. You giggled softly, reaching over to take Changbin's hand. Changbin froze, staring down at your hand on his and immediately calmed down. Hyunjin chuckled "Only stay can calm down an angry dweakki," he said, poking your cheek. You glared at him, curling up against Minho. Minho chuckled, rubbing your thighs "Should I put him in the air fryer?" he asked. You looked up at Minho, gulping at his expression. Minho smirked "Well?" he asked. You shook your head instantly, "No, thank you," you said. Minho frowned but nodded "Hyunjin-ah you live another day," he said. Hyunjin gasped loudly, holding his chest "He really wanted to fry me," he said in disbelief.

Chan sighed, "See what I have to deal with," he said, pulling you back into his hold. You giggled softly, snuggling against his chest. "You'll never be alone, wherever you are, we'll be one step behind you," he said, rubbing your palm with his thumb. "I'll protect you," he grumbled, holding you tightly. Your eyes widen "I'll protect everyone here," he mumbled, nuzzling your neck. You relaxed, nodding softly. "I know," you whispered, sighing happily. Chan shifted letting the other members cuddle against each other. "Rest, little one, you had a long day," he whispered, stroking your hair. You nodded, letting him tuck you in before wrapping his arms around your waist. "Sweet dream my babies," he said, closing his eyes.

[matixv]

Domme Natasha Romanov x Sub Reader

summary: Natasha’s missions as an Hero always take her away from you for a long time. After a long mission, she comes home being incredibly nervous and on edge, and end up taking out her stress on you. That behavior ends as soon as your safe word is used, making her understand she was dealing with her pain in the wrong way. You are there to support her during her breakdown.

warnings: sub/domme dynamic, safe wording, kinda of unhealthy scene at first, anxiety attack, panic/anxiety comfort, aftercare, love and fluff. Maybe don’t read if you are little. (This is not even a scene, it’s just everything happening quickly)

words count: 1.5k

Disclaimer: the situation written below isn’t healthy, but it will be dealt with care and love by the ones involved. You’ll see the character experience an high stress level, and wrongly taking it out on the one person she loves. Everyone can experience a burnout, but don’t confuse it with mental and physical abuse. If you think you are being abused in your dynamic, please, contact the authorities or leave immediately.

————————————————————————————

During the scene there was a strange atmosphere, it was not like the other times. When Natasha came back from a mission, she usually gave herself time to change in comfortable clothes, eat and get back in shape before relieving her stress on you, but this time everything went differently. It was sudden, too sudden.

The mission itself was tremendous. You watched from home all the Avengers' moves, asking for news every two minutes, and you soon realized it wouldn’t be easy to forget, for all of them, but mostly for Natasha.

Clint had informed you of her condition: she was physically debilitated, mentally broken, and definitely more on edge than usual. The mission had triggered many memories now lost in oblivion, bringing her anxiety and pain. You were looking forward to seeing her again, you wanted to help as best as you could, but this time you both crossed the line.

When she opened the door, she was welcomed by the lovely and calm environment of your perfectly cleaned apartment. You were patiently waiting for her, your outfit cozy; the bathroom was ready for her and you neatly washed and folded her clothes, it was your love language.

She limped to the center of the apartment, closing the door behind her and not greeting you, not even with a lift of her chin. You didn’t want to invade her space, so you just stood up and walked up to her.

You looked at her, she was not the same person from when she left: her clothes were ruined, covered in dust and dirt, her hair was messy, she had blood on her lower lips and her eyes were swollen and… sad. The only thing shining was her favorite necklace, a silver arrow, a symbol of her friendship

with Clint.

Her hand rested on the kitchen island, a nervous sigh escaping her lips as she wiped her chin with her leather jacket. You already made some food and displayed it along with some beverages on the counter, but she looked hungry for another thing, you recognized that hunger.

It wasn’t a good idea, but you haven’t seen each other for a long time, and you couldn’t deny you were looking forward to touching her body and feeling her close again. You just didn’t expect her to be so eager.

Deep, strong and green eyes barely met yours before your lips and body were crashing. You felt the dryness of her skin against yours, trying your best to deepen the kiss as she lifted you and lead you to the bedroom. You stumbled against the furniture and the door frame, until a loud groan escaped her throat. “For god’s sake, fuck this door”

She pushed you against the wooden door, your back collided violently with it, a sharp pain hitting your body. You hissed when you felt the contrast with the soft and fresh mattress, your lungs finally having access to air again. “Natasha…”

“Shut up” she quickly hushed you, her hand covering your mouth. “That damn mission was a nightmare, I spent days without sleeping or eating, no one was helping each other, I’m fed up with being the only one who truly fucking cares about keeping the Avengers together.”

She was angry, furious even. Her hands were already squeezing your breasts, as her lips made their way to your collarbones, leaving her blood on your soft skin. “You smell so good, I want to mark you”. And with that, she did. You felt her teeth digging in your skin, and soon you found yourself moaning to the pleasurable pain.

It was pleasure, but not healthy.

“And I’m not Natasha, you should know the rules by now” she reinforced with grabbing your chin forcefully. She ripped your shirt open, giving you no time to realize what was happening. “Your nipples drive me crazy” she whispered against the soft flesh.

You melted underneath her hot breathing for a minute, until you felt the sharp pain of her teeth closing around your hard bundles. You gritted your teeth, grunting and holding her head between your hands. “Fuck” you yelled.

You tried to push her away, to disconnect her from the powerful hold she had on you, but you realized it was almost impossible. She was lost in her head, too lost to continue the scene while keeping it safe and healthy.

She started undoing the buttons of your pants, roughly pushing a hand through the fabric, sliding her fingers in between your folds.

You both agreed with each other on what you liked and disliked during your scenes: roughness was accepted, slaps and grabbing too, marks and bites were your biggest kinks, but right now they weren’t making you happy.

“Nat, stop” You mumbled when she pulled her body into yours even more. Your request was barely audible, but brought her attention back to your face, not with the result you were expecting tho. She grabbed your face between her fingers, her lips close to yours.

“You think I had fun with all those men? Uh? You think it was pleasurable to be surrounded by people who don’t understand you or your needs? I had the most horrible month of my life, I had to walk through my past all by myself, it wasn’t fun, trust me” she angrily whispered one centimeter away from your face.

That wasn’t the Natasha you knew, she wasn’t the same person who massaged your shoulders every night and handled you with care at all times. That was the ruthless black widow, who had to complete her goal and end the day as soon as possible.

That wasn’t the Natasha you knew, she wasn’t the same person who massaged your shoulders every night and handled you with care at all times. That was the ruthless black widow, who had to complete her goal and end the day as soon as possible.

Your eyes were filled with tears at the sight of that person you didn’t even recognize. "Why are you taking out your pain on me like this? I waited a whole month to have you back, and all you are giving me is a reason not to trust you anymore" you whispered, looking away. “Budapest”

Your safe word was loud and clear, echoing in the silent room. It was the first time you ever used it. The only thing that filled the silence were your small sobs and her loud breathing, a great contrast to the prior events.

The panic in her was obvious, her eyes going from yours to the marks she just left on your body. Her eyes were shiny, tiny droplets of sweat adorned her forehead, and her lips were red as fire. That word seemed to have snapped her out of the “widow” headspace, your Natasha was back.

A soft hand caressed your right cheek, a lonely tear escaping her eyes. “What did I do?” She whispered painfully. “W-What- I’m so sorry, I”. Her breathing was becoming faster, and her hands were trembling against you.

“Baby?” You softly called her, trying to get her to focus on you. “It’s okay, we are both okay, we are just tired”. When you tried to get her closer tho, she stood up, leaning to the nearest wall, and collapsed on the cold wooden floor.

“You shouldn’t trust me, I’m dangerous” she cried.

You took a deep breath, sitting on the edge of the bed and thinking the best way to approach her. You slowly sat on the floor, taking small steps towards the wall she was leaning on. “You aren’t dangerous, baby, you aren’t dangerous at all. They trained you to be dangerous, but here” you pointed your fingers to her heart. “Here, you are good, soft and caring. You kept your heart pure, Natasha”

Loud sobs filled the room, her stress being finally dealt with in the healthiest way. You gave her her space to cry, to feel and to take in everything that happened, it was a lot even for the strongest hero and avenger in the entire universe.

“I’m not going anywhere” you reassured her.

She slowly crawled into your caring arms, feeling your heartbeat and following the movements of your chest. Her face was wet, her eyes were swollen and her body was trembling, but you didn’t care.

Your Natasha was home, with you. “You’ll be staying here with me for a long time, I won’t be sending you to fight enemies like this. You need to take care of yourself, and I’ll help you with it. You are not alone, Nat”

You nuzzled in her hair, taking her under your protective wing while she was showing herself vulnerable. You knew that neglecting her true needs was what she was used to, but things were going to change. Sometimes we need to fight the enemies we have inside before fighting the ones that are waiting for us on the outside.

“You are safe with me, I’ll take care of you.”

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

I'm sorry but funny ideas come to me late at night so I have to send this ask rn or I'll forget about it. so imagined what if the skeleton's adopted child is basically those terrifying children from horror movies

Undertale Sans - It's 3 am and he tries to pretend so hard he's not seeing his child staring at him and S/O sleeping on the doorsteps. That's two hours they're doing this now and Sans thinks he will never be able to sleep again. He is freaking out and desperately try to shake his S/O awake because he swears to Asgore he is terrified.

Undertale Papyrus - "OH, HELLO CHILD. EVEN IF I APPRECIATE YOU NOT WALKING ON THE WET FLOOR, COULD YOU PLEASE NOT WALK ON THE CEILING EITHER?" The child doesn't answer and pass next to him, growling like an animal. Papyrus sighs. Ah, children. Aren't they cute? Undyne and Alphys are frozen in shock in the couch. What the hell.

Underswap Sans - He breaks into the room, pissed of. "TIMMY! STOP MAKING YOUR UNCLE DOG SPIN ON THE CEILING THIS MOMENT!" The child pouts and lets the dog goes back on the floor. The dog runs away in terror to join Honey. Blue starts lecturing his child about doing horrible things in the middle of the day. Please wait the middle of the night when no one can see you!

Underswap Papyrus - He looks up from his book. "what are you holding?" "A chainsaw, I'm going to use it on the neighbour." "oh, ok, have fun." The child leaves the room. Honey freezes for a moment, then jumps out of the couch. "oh shit, no, wait!" He runs after the kid.

Underfell Sans - He was looking himself in a mirror when you jumpscared him out of nowhere by making his reflection attacks him. Red screams bloody murder and crawls out of the bathroom, soul beating so fast it mights explode. That freaking kid. What the hell were you thinking when S/O wanted to adopt them specifically?!

Underfell Papyrus - He's in the middle of the shop. The kid is doing a litteral banshee scream because he said no to buy the last toy he saw on TV. The humans around are all on the floor, ears bleeding while Edge is simply lecturing the child, unaffected. It's not because you scream loud that you will have what you want! He can scream loud as well!

Horrortale Sans - Poor Oak is on the couch, head fills with wiggling worms. Willow is lecturing the child to death. "I KNOW THIS IS TEMPTING BUT YOU CAN'T FILL YOUR DAD HEAD HOLE WITH WORMS BECAUSE YOU WANTED HIM TO STOP HUGGING YOU. LOOK AT THAT MESS! MAKE THEM DISAPPEAR WITH YOUR DEMONIC POWERS THIS MOMENT YOUNG MAN! AND APOLOGIZE!" The kid sighs and obeys.

Horrortale Papyrus - Things are flying everywhere in the house. Willow sighs loudly and turns towards his kid. "WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT INVITING EVIL SPIRITS TO PARTY IN THE HOUSE? YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO ASK ME FIRST. YOU WILL CLEAN THE MESS." The child makes Willow's mouth disappear because they're angry. Willow frowns and lectures the kid with sign language instead.

Swapfell Sans - This is the worst possible timeline. Nox is hiding in his bunker, trembling in terror after his kid found out that sneaking on him and breathing in his neck makes him jump in terror everytime. Nox is having a mental breakdown. He hates this kid. He keeps asking S/O when the orphanage is taking them back. As he's finally calming down, he feels a cold breath on his neck. He screams and turns away, finding his kid upper half has crossed the wall somehow. He bangs on the scelled door to beg S/O for help.

Swapfell Papyrus - You're having dinner, trying to ignore all the animals with redeyes staring at you from every windows of the house, waiting for one of them to get out of the house to kill them. This is fine. Rus doesn't even need to get out ever again anyway. It's no use to say anything to the child, he could just open a window as a revenge.

Fellswap Gold Sans - "WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?" "My friend." "...YOUR FRIEND? WHERE IS HE?" "Right next to you." "... SURE. WHAT DOES HE LOOK LIKE?" His kid gives him a drawing of a very scary clown holding a huge scythe. Oh nice. What the hell. Wine smiles, a bit tense, then says to his kid to not go to sleep to late. He is also locking the door of his room tonight.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He was going to the kitchen like every morning to make breakfast but can only find humans organs in the cupboard. Coffee tries to not panick, at least there is coffee. He high pitched screams when he serves himself a cup of coffee and finds a human eye floating in the drink. He begs his kid to stop doing this.

[the-likesofus]

Crushes, Shivers and Bruised Knuckles

9-1-1 on Fox | 9k words | kickboxing fic | pining, getting together, eventual happy ending

eddie realizes he's in love with buck, freaks out about almost killing a dude, and goes to therapy

Based on this title prompt from the lovely Jenwyn @elvensorceress

Read on AO3

Sometimes Eddie wishes that Frank wasn't so good at his job. Sure he's helping, he's doing a great job of helping Eddie work through his traumas and emotions, helping him to "unrepress" himself as Buck keeps calling it. But sometimes, when he takes the lid off yet another mental box of memories and conflictions that Eddie thought he had tucked away for good, he thinks that Frank might be too helpful. 

“How did you get on with your homework this week?” Frank asks and Eddie barely looks up from where he is picking at the seam of his jeans with a nail. Truthfully Eddie’s homework had resulted in a minor mental breakdown, two panic attacks, and a lot of deep breaths behind the washing machine while he hid from his son. Not his proudest moment. 

Franks waits patiently for Eddie to reply. If Frank being too helpful is the worst part of therapy then this is the second worse. Frank established very quickly that he is not the kind of man that finds the need to fill silences and he is quite happy to spend their whole half-hour session waiting patiently while Eddie avoids talking about the proposed topic. 

“Homework was fine.” He says.

“Can you elaborate on that for me? I asked you to take stock of your meaningful relationships, outside your son. Were you able to do that?”

“Yes.” Eddie’s nail snags and pulls painfully, leaving a jagged edge that stings. He tucks the end of his finger between his lips and sucks as if he can draw the pain out that way, siphoning it straight from his bloodstream. He wipes the dampness on his thigh and takes a deep breath. Frank is watching him closely when Eddie looks up. His face is blank and impassive, as always, so Eddie can never tell what he is thinking. 

“Okay. And what did you learn from that?” Frank asks slowly like he’s talking to a child and sometimes that’s how Eddie feels. He walks out of these sessions with his soul stripped bare and his mind wiped clean as the day he was born, his entire world tilted on its axis as he tries to relearn every thought and emotion he’s ever had.

His breath feels like it’s caught in his throat, growing and bubbling with nervous energy, painful almost to the point of agony and he lets the words spill out of him because he doesn’t know what to do with them otherwise and if anyone is capable of helping Eddie to sort through his newest emotional turmoil it is Frank. “I think I’m in love with Buck.”

--------

The first time Eddie realized he was in love with Buck was at 2 pm on a Wednesday. Chris was at school and Buck was sitting on Eddie’s couch pairing and folding socks while he ranted and raved about his babysitting date with Jee-Yun the previous weekend. He started making plans for them to take her and Christopher to the park on Saturday. He didn’t even need to ask Eddie if they were free, if they had other plans, or even if they wanted to go. He just knew. 

Eddie excused himself to the bathroom and spent fifteen minutes sitting on the closed toilet seat taking deep breaths with his head between his knees as his heart constricted painfully in his chest. I love him, I love him, I love him repeating on loop in his head like a stuck record, his heart scratching at the ridges that Buck had carved away in his chest, where he had made a home for himself amongst Eddie’s darker afflictions. 

When he returned to the couch Buck had just smiled at him, all soft and patient, and made some joke about how long he had been gone, how he was worried Eddie had fallen into the toilet bowl. 

On Thursday, Buck shows up for their shift with coffee in hand. But not any regular coffee, no this was some ridiculous, limited-time Starbucks concoction that Eddie would never order for himself but paid a little too much attention to when it was advertised on TV the night before. It is delicious and Eddie’s heart thrums even as it tries to hammer its way out of his chest. The way their fingers brush when Buck hands him the coffee sends sparks flying up Eddie’s forearm and for the rest of their shift, he is acutely aware of every inch of contact Buck makes with him. Their knees pressed together in the engine, their shoulders brushing as they walk side by side. 

Over the course of 12 hours, the hope and terror that bubbles up and burns in Eddie’s gut becomes unbearable. He needs some kind of release, relief. The pressure presses outward at his hips and downward to the ends of his toes until every inch of his body feels like an overfilled air mattress threatening to split at the seams and spill love all over Buck’s shiny regulation boots. The urge to filet his heart on a platter and present it to Buck is almost as strong as the urge to punch something and so he goes with the second option because bruised and bloodied knuckles feel safer than a broken heart. 

The punching bag in the station gym crumples and swings under his fists, the rhythmic thwack thwack of skin against canvas takes the sharp edge off the tightness in his chest but does nothing to unclench his jaw and halt the grinding of his teeth. Eddie can feel that horrible urge that filled him right before he let Bosko convince him to join the equivalent of a fight club. He knows she never intended for him to take to it in quite the aggressive and unrelenting way he did and he swore never to go back there, he promised Buck that he would talk to him if he ever felt like that again. But he can’t talk to Buck about this. 

“What did that bag do to offend you?” A voice comes from beside him and it shakes Eddie out of his single-minded focus. He lets his arms swing freely at his sides and turns to find Chimney leaning against the weight rack. 

“How long have you been there?” Eddie finds himself asking and Chimney just chuckles and shakes his head.

“Long enough to know you need a water break.” He picks Eddie’s bottle up off the floor and hands it to him. “Seriously man, you have ridiculous stamina. Have you ever tried kickboxing?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow at him as he gulps a few mouthfuls from his bottle. The water has gone oddly warm from how long it’s been sitting on the ground next to him. 

“Okay, come on.” Chimney laughs again. “I meant at a proper gym, not an abandoned parking building. You know, regulated? Legal?” 

Eddie rolls his eyes but leans back against the support pole next to the punching bag. “No.”

“Maybe you should look into it. There’s one over on 6th in Koreatown. Kevin tried to drag me along a couple of times but I was never much good at it.”

“You really think you should be encouraging me to get back into fighting?”

“It’s not fighting, Eddie. It’s fitness. Some vices can be good for you, but knowing boundaries are too. If you don’t think it’s worth risking falling back into old habits then that’s fine. But, think about it, yeah?” Chim stands up and makes to head up to the loft when he turns back and calls over his shoulder, “Hey, I’ll even go with you if you want. But I did say I’m not very good.”

Continue on AO3

[remyfire]

Here's a thought: sex pollen sidhawk

(prompts now closed) I don't want to talk about why this ended up being 3k, and I will be honest, it has not been beta'd, but boy, did that feel good to write. I hope you enjoy, anon!! Thank you so much for the prompt!

It's difficult enough every time that Sidney's care is requested at the 4077th, but getting the call when it comes to one Hawkeye Pierce is unsettling to the point of being unable to stand once he has hung up the phone. Sidney's perfectly organized mind, filing cabinet after filing cabinet, suddenly falls into solid darkness, inaccessible, making him as useless as a goldfish in a glass of water. But when he can urge the blood into his legs, everything comes rushing back, leaving him tight in his skin as he rushes to prepare himself for the journey.

In truth, Hawkeye is the reason why it is incredibly hard to be summoned there. He's dangerous, not in a violent or fearful way but to the integrity of Sidney's heart. It is all but necessary to hold him at bay—regardless of how tempting it is to protect him, memorize him, study him, understand him—but any attempt to tell Hawkeye this has not brought any positive results. He's hungry. He always has been. If he's not devouring knowledge or forcing his assistance to be taken, he's coaxing people into his bed and often finding himself in pieces when it's over. Attempting to dissuade him from those impulses never goes well.

It doesn't matter what they crave with one another, even if they share the same desires for a lover, a partner, a soft place to settle like a bird in its nest. There's too much danger in the midst of this war zone, not just physically but mentally, emotionally. Every day, Sidney reminds himself that he must maintain an objectivity between himself and any potential patients. And unfortunately for all of them, this includes and perhaps prioritizes Hawkeye. Though he'd never admit it to a soul, Sidney is all but certain that Hawk straddles the edge of a breakdown. Maybe it won't happen today, tomorrow, or even in this decade, but eventually it will come, and if Sidney is the only one there who might be able to give him care...

He does, however, recognize the flaw of his plan to remain objective. If he was to ever have a chance at not falling for Hawkeye, then he needed to refuse the invitation to that very first "medical conference" because the moment that he sat elbow to elbow with Hawk, Sidney's fate was set. There's not a drop of objectivity remaining.

He simply can't let it get worse.

As Colonel Potter departs, leaving Sidney alone outside of the VIP tent, Sidney takes a moment to really let the briefing he just received sink in. Once Hawkeye returned from a routine visit to an aid station, he was showing an odd list of symptoms such as glassy eyes, difficulty responding to questions, slurring speech, elevated body temperature, and clammy skin. Though the medical staff are still sorting through what tests they are able to safely perform here to rule out a number of physical ailments, the recent change from slurred speech to a mild personality shift necessitated both a low dose of a sedative and an immediate call for Sidney's assistance.

He's taken everything in as well as he can. He isn't sure exactly what he's walking into right now—mild personality shift appears to include overwhelming assertiveness, hypersexual behavior, and desperate bargaining, all of which could point to a wide array of his own possible diagnoses—but no matter what he sees in this tent, he knows he must remain as calm as possible.

This is all very well and good until he actually opens the door, steps inside, and sees that Hawkeye appears to be recovering from the sedative. He knows this because the 4077th's chief surgeon is currently in the cot on his side, rutting languidly against the pillow, sweat dripping from his hair, and three of his own fingers in his mouth with drool dripping down all of them.

As Hawk gazes at him, his pupils are dilated so alarmingly that Sidney's heart stops. He didn't hear any mention of a potential head injury. Surely they would've noticed that. There's no blood, no bruising, no outward sign of trauma, no—

"Sidney," Hawkeye breathes in the huskiest possible tone. With a crooked grin, he rolls toward the edge of the cot. "Sidney..."

"Careful," Sidney blurts. He darts forward into a kneel and catches Hawk with a hand on his chest before he can fall straight to the floor.

Alarmingly, Hawk whines, eyes falling shut, head tipping back, a full-body shiver breaking through him. "Fuck, fuck, please..."

"Let's make you comfortable, all right, Hawkeye?" Sidney asks as mildly as he can. Instinct kicks in. Soothe, soothe, soothe. "I thought I might come by to check on you. It sounds like you've had a busy afternoon." But as he is working on easing Hawk flat on his back, quiet moans bubble out of Hawkeye, short and pained, each paired with Sidney applying pressure to his body—shoulder, arm, even touching his forehead to check his temperature.

"Don't stop. Please don't stop..."

The moment Sidney lifts his hands, Hawkeye cries out and writhes in the cot. "Hawkeye, honey, what are you feeling?" Sidney knows the desperation is coloring his voice, but as he expected, objectivity has vanished in a puff of smoke.

"Hurts. Please!" He reaches for Sidney's wrist.

"What hurts, zissele?" The old endearment falls from his lips before he can stop it, but Hawkeye gets a hold of his arm then with a bruising grip and yanks Sidney hard enough to almost topple him into the cot. "Hawkeye?" Keep your head, Freedman, come on. He notes how Hawkeye presses Sidney's palm into his own abdomen, how he whimpers and bucks his hips but refuses to let him pull away. "Does this help?"

There's no indication that Hawkeye hears him, just a rapidly whispered mantra of "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop..."

Working on instinct alone, Sidney squeezes Hawk's forearm with his other hand. The sharp whine he receives right away is both needy and relieved. But when he loosens his grip, Hawkeye all but snarls, darting for Sidney's arm, looking on the verge of tears when Sidney pulls it out of range. "Is it the pressure?" Sidney prompts. "Hawkeye, if you're able to, I need you to communicate with me, all right?" This sort of forceful urging goes against his training—he must stay steady, he must, he must—but the words bring Hawk's gaze back to meet his all the same. "Does pressure help relieve what you're feeling?"

Hawk's body twitches again as he stares up at Sidney with the saddest eyes he's ever seen. "Sidney..." Another thrash. They don't seem to be seizures, but those sort of involuntary spasms— "Sidney?" Hawkeye's voice goes whisper thin and yet far clearer.

"Yes, that's it, I'm here, zissele." Is this a temporary moment of clarity? He makes an internal jot beside the question for his observations to follow. How has he taken dozens of mental pages of notes since walking into this tent minutes ago?

"Pressure. The pressure. I-It feels like..." Hawk shudders, lids drooping.

Sidney sucks in a sharp breath. "Stay here with me. What does it feel like?"

He seems to force his eyes wide open, keeps them firmly focused on Sidney without blinking. "Fuck, fuck, Sid, it's, it's like I've got, like I'm a balloon, like the..." A giggle slips out with an edge of hysteria. "Jesus, all that hot air finally caught up to me, huh?"

Nervous laughter. Another jot. Sidney speaks over the rolling wave of cackles. "Is it painful? Does it come and go or is it consistent?"

Hawkeye hums in high amusement, a grin that melts into a pout with a matching furrowed brow. "I need it. Sid, I need it, I need it I need it I need—"

In an act of desperation, Sidney drapes his whole arm across Hawk's chest and pushes downward, and for one moment, Hawk goes completely silent, all held breath and parted lips. But Sidney has never been a particularly physically powerful man nor does his endurance apply to more than the mental fortitude to withstand long, grueling sessions with cracked patients. He can't sustain the weight for more than fifteen seconds, and as his tired muscles begin to lift, Hawkeye wails.

And just like that, Sidney Freedman, dedicated psychiatrist who only operates with thoughtful care, throws everything to the wind and crawls into the cot. "Here I am, Hawkele," he whispers, the fond Yiddish suffix coming to him faster than his own name. He straddles Hawkeye and lets himself turn into completely dead weight.

"Yesssss... Ohh, yes, Sidney." Hawk wraps his arms and legs around him and squeezes as tightly as he can. He's all but soaked through his clothes with sweat and they're so damp that Sidney aches to pull away, pull them off, pull out a towel to dab over him and clean him up, but the last thing he's capable of doing right now is physically abandoning Hawkeye for so much as a moment.

Sidney drops his voice to what he hopes is a soothing level. "Is this helping? Can you hear me?" With every passing second, Sidney becomes more and more aware of how hard Hawkeye is in his fatigues, and though he tries to imagine himself in the middle of the Arctic Circle, his body stirs in response. Not now. He buries his face in Hawk's chest. Not now, please not now.

Like a gentle rippling tide, Hawk begins to grind against him.

"Hawkeye." Sidney whips his head up and tries to catch his eye.

"Wanna come back," Hawk whispers, crystal clear. "Don't, don't let me get stuck like this, Sid, fuck, fuck, don't let me stay here, please?"

"Stay where? Hawkeye." He tries to be firm when Hawkeye bucks upward once more, reaches for his hip in an attempt to hold him still.

"My head. It's boiling. All the steam's getting caught in my veins. I can't think, I can't—" As his voice goes wet, sympathetic tears rush to Sidney's eyes. All at once, Hawk sucks in a sharp breath and grabs Sidney by the face. He pins him there with his stare. "Fuck me."

Sidney tries to shake his head but Hawkeye's grip tightens.

"Fuck me, Sidney, fuck it out of me, fuck me better." Every word tumbles out of Hawkeye faster, faster, faster, each as pointed as a scalpel.

"This isn't the way it should go, zissele," Sidney murmurs back, pleading. "I can't be sure if you're in your right mind. I don't know if you're you. Can you understand that?"

On he goes, rutting, panting. "Private Kafka," Hawk all but snaps, and while Sidney's trying to make sense of it, he goes on in a single breath. "That's inscrutable, the psychiatric basis for gambling, I'm not screwed up enough, I told you, Biarritz, Sidney, the choo-choo around the bend—"

"Hawkeye..." The wobble in Sidney's voice is too telling. He inhales, holds it, lets it out, presents the picture of being as calm as he possibly can be. "You know we can't do that. There's too many steps. We don't have the supplies. And even if we did, I don't know what you're experiencing, but there's no scientific basis for sexual intercourse relieving any of the symptoms that you're experiencing—"

"Pressure," Hawkeye hisses, lifting his head so they're nose to nose. "Sidney, Sid, I would..." He curls into Sidney with a groan, limbs clenching him tighter, bringing their erections flush together through just a few layers of fabric, bringing goosebumps down Sidney's spine. "I-I'd kill for it not to be like this, but Jesus Christ, when you're not, not holding me down like this, that's when I'm not my head, that's when I get, when I'm lost, I need it out of me, I need to release it, please, fuck, please, Sid, don't leave me here, don't let me—"

As Sidney touches their foreheads together, he rolls his hips forward, and as Hawk whimpers and digs his nails into Sidney's back, he tries desperately not to hate himself. "Hawkele. I'm sorry, honey." Years of medical and psychiatric training reduced to this, clinging to the man who he loves, rutting against him like they're animals in heat, taking what should be a beautifully intimate experience and reducing it to—

"Thank you." The words drift up and brush Sidney's lips with steam-hot air. "Oh, fuck, Sidney, thank you, God..."

The mere notion that Hawkeye is thanking him for the scraps of what Sidney so dearly wants to provide? No, no, that's sour on his tongue, bugs under his skin. There's too much adoration trapped in his chest to be thanked for this.

Despite every boundary he's tried to maintain, Sidney surges forward to kiss him. As he drinks up the mewling moans vibrating into his mouth, Sidney keeps a steady rhythm, trying to ignore the electric pulses of pleasure climbing his spine, helpless but to feel them anyway. When Hawk gets a hand around the back of his neck, Sidney sinks fingers into his hair, scraping over his scalp.

I'm not leaving you trapped, he tries to transmit straight into Hawkeye's mind. I want every piece of you, zissele, your mind, your heart, your body, your fears, your dreams... With a slight shift, Sidney trips into the perfect angle. It's fire sweeping into an inferno inside of him. As a groan pulls itself free from his tight hold, Hawkeye seems to light up from the sound of it. He kisses with a delicious excitement that feels exactly like Sidney has always dreamed of. Frenetic. Agile. It's good, it's too good, it's exactly enough to fuzz Sidney over just a touch with getting a taste of all of his fantasies.

He's not sure who flips the switch inside of him, but Sidney redoubles his efforts.

The sweat begins to break over his entire body as well, pairing with the ecstasy as perfectly as a sweet wine. He gives everything he has. It doesn't matter that they don't have a scrap of clothing off, Sidney fucks him, and he does it like he does anything else—with a single-minded concentration on the final goal. Pressure, Hawkeye says, that's what he needs, this constant push of their bodies together. If Sidney had his way, he'd get his mouth on Hawkeye, find out what his pretty cock tastes like, suck him straight down his throat and swallow and see what kind of relief that might provide... But no, not today, not here, not now, not when the only way he could manage it comfortably while being able to keep an eye on Hawk's expression would be to remove his weight.

Sidney shudders as he shoves his arms under Hawk's shoulders, trying to squeeze him just that little bit more. "You're beautiful, Hawkeye," he can't help but whisper. "Oh, zissele... Is this what you need?"

"Perfect," Hawkeye murmurs, lets out a whimper, then tries again. "It's perfect, Sidney, please—"

"I won't stop. I-I can't..." Sidney bites his lip before he lets anything else out that might be too presumptive. But God, it's all but impossible to hold it in when he's straddling a peak. He doesn't feel as though he's earned an orgasm. There's no world where he deserves it, where he can be sure he's not taking advantage. It's Hawkeye who needs this. And it seems as if he might be barely seconds away from finding it.

Hawkeye's moans have reached a fever pitch. They're possibly the most arousing sounds Sidney has ever heard in all of his forty-seven years. What's more, he's back to writhing, putting everything he has into the almost hypnotic rocking of their bodies, never passive, never, not his Hawkeye. "Sid, it's so good, I-I'm so close."

"That's it, Hawkele, take it, take everything you need from me, let, let me help." Sidney's voice cracks, the tears in his eyes wrapped intrinsically around the crushing, vulnerable intimacy that's trying to claw its way out of his chest.

"Sidney!" Hawk shouts his name just before he bites down on Sidney's jacket and muffles his scream as he lets go. Sidney swears that somehow he can feel the heat of his release bleeding through their shorts, their trousers, and though his hips are beginning to ache, he pushes on like his high school days of sprinting, seeing Hawkeye through all the way to the end, buck after buck. It takes every fiber of his being to withhold his own orgasm, not to—

With a high-pitched whine, Hawk drops his head back on the pillow. "Don't stop, don't stop, come for me, Sidney, please."

—come, fuck, fuck, like a depth change, like plummeting under the ocean and being squeezed by it into his own death, desperate pleasure and tears, wordless weeping, everything tightening as he shakes and shakes and shakes around Hawkeye until it begins to dissipate, until all that remains is the trembling, the fear of letting go.

But Hawkeye is here too. He's petting through Sidney's curls and shivering with him. And just as the guilt makes its return, Hawk whispers, "It's, it's... H-Hold on, I think it's working."

Another mental jot. When Sidney becomes aware of it, he almost barks an unstable laugh of his own. But instead he lifts his head and cups Hawkeye's cheek with a sniffle. "You're...yes, you're becoming cooler."

Hawkeye grins, the edges of his eyes crinkling. "Are you saying I was a loser before?"

That draws the chuckle. "Oh, you're certainly clearing up," he drawls. He feels as though he's desperately reaching for strings of normalcy, the rhythm that he's familiar with. But he's also exhausted. Anxious. Sidney tilts his head, watching in fascination as Hawk's pupils begin to shrink. "Your eyes aren't glassy. Your voice is steadier. Your—"

"Dr. Freedman," Hawk murmurs as he gives him one more squeeze. "If it's all the same to you, I'd like to table the diagnostics for five minutes of holding you."

Oh, he's a goner, every bit of him. But if he's being honest with himself, this isn't a new state of being, no matter how much he ran from it. Sidney closes his eyes with an unsteady sigh. "Your motion has been approved, Dr. Pierce," he whispers back, then buries his face in his Hawkele's neck. The world can stand still for five minutes. And if it doesn't, if it comes to a sudden end, then at least he'll be here in Hawk's arms to bid it farewell.

[goddessofhuntartimas]

Comfort

Paring: Dean winchester x reader

Warnings⚠️⚠️:mentions of self-harm, blood, depression, drinking,swearing,fufffff

Summary: Dean comforting you after a breakdown.

°♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡°

You're pov:

I was currently in my room that I have here at the bunker crying. I liked to claim I was strong and I could get through anything, but the truth is I can't. Every day gets harder and harder, and the scars on my body grow to the point that there's no room anymore. There's no breathing room it's not like I'm only physically suffocating but mentally. So again, here I was crying in my room, deciding if I should shut out the lights that was until someone knocked on my door. Sam walked in with a book. In hand "Hey, I was wondering..." he stopped mid sentence, giving me a worried expression. "Hey. hey, what's wrong? " he said in a soft tone. I looked away."I don't want to talk about it, " my voice cracked. "Ok.... do you want me to get dean?" He asked, unsure of what to do, "no! Don't please dont. " I began not wanting trouble, dean more than I've already have. It's not like dean didn't know where every scar has come from or what's been going on in my mind, but for the past 2 months, I've been distant and covering up and to my luck he's been really busy so it definitely been hard for him to completely notice and I say completely because he has asked if I'm ok or would ask why I'm acting differently which I would reply with "it's nothing just been busy" or "I'm ok just tired" but that could be further from the truth. "Are you sure?" Sam asked one more time "yeah I was just overthinking nothing too bad." Lie. "Well, im always here if you need me." Ok, thank you." I said blantly. He walked out, and I sighed, flopping down on the bed. I'm so tired, but I couldn't sleep. I kept on tossing and turning.

Sam's pov:

After what y/n looked like, there was no way in hell I wasn't not going to tell Dean. Would I possibly get my ass beat later? Yes, I would. "Hey, dean. I need to tell you something, and I need you not to freak out." " Sammy, you tell me not to freak out then I'm going to, but what is it." I let out a sigh."It's um y/n. I'm worried about her." Dean got out of his seat and stated, walking, hearing all that he needed to. "Wait." I grabbed his arm he looked back at me, annoyed. "Listen, she didn't want me to say anything, so just pretend like you were asking her something." I gave him pleading eyes. "Ok" he pulled away walking to her room.

Y/n pov:

I got up to change putting one one of deans shirts hoping it would help me sleep and a pair of shorts. I was about to walk out of the room to go grab a beer, but I was met with a pair of green eyes that were filled with worry. He walked towards me, pulling me into a hug. I was tense at first but caved into his touch, and there I was crying again more like sobbing. His head was resting on mine while his hands moved up and down my back. "Baby, do you want to tell me what's wrong?" His voice deep and caring I pulled from him looking down speaking quietly." I just can't anymore dean. I just can't it's all too much." He put his hand on my cheek, creasing it and wiping my tears away. "Hey, sweetheart. Look at me." I looked into his eyes. " Why didn't you tell me sooner?" " Because I didn't want to worry you. You are going through so much yourself it's the last thing I want to do is make you worry." I couldn't hold in my tears. I just wanted to crumble to the floor. " it doesn't matter what I'm going through. You need to tell me what's going on, and we can work it out together because this right here isn't going to do anything. And trust me, it's something I need to work on to." "Ok" I whispered. " I'll be right back," he walked off . I was sitting on the edge of the bed curdled up in a ball, waiting for dean to come back. He walked in with a different pair of clothes on he smiled at me. God, i love that smile. I gave him a slight one back . He got under the covers, giving me a look to come over to him. I sat on his lap and kissed him. He followed my actions, putting his hands on my waist , we moved slowly . We pulled away. " I love you," I said softly. "I love you too, sweetheart." I moved to the side if him laying my head on his chest, and finally, I felt at peace.

[tpup]

God not another trans person being flung out by the roommate /partner/family. Won't be long before you start a go fund me. Reason why y'all get tossed out is because you are unbearable to deal/live with. Real world is so hard and you come home to someone who refuses to get help for their mental illness, who makes being mentally ill/a furry/trans etc their whole fucking identity and who changes pronouns or makes them up at the drop of a hat and then has a meltdown when you don't remember.

I lived with my trans parter who identified as a cat and they exploited my support for them by making everything ridiculous. I am working twelve hour shifts I come home and I am expected to communicate through meowing. When I don't I am disrespecting them. They change pronouns daily. They then make up pronouns until it's a new language. We go to a restaurant and someone doesn't use they/them because they didn't know and my ex flips out and causes a scene and we get flung out.

Everything is about you all the time. We have to cater to you all the time. We have to walk on eggshells on case we trigger you. It's like living with a knife being held to your throat every day all day. You bark like a dog and go on about being trans like that's all you are and you held your girlfriend hostage to it. Now she's acting crazy and throwing you out because doggo, she's having a nervous breakdown. You have driven her to it. She just wants a quiet normal life not someone who thinks flipping genders every two minutes or pretending to be a dog is gonna solve your problems. She wants quiet and stability not you acting fucking crazy 24/7 and making out it's normal. I see it all the time, trans or furries driving their partner/roommates/family to the edge of madness or having nervous breakdowns because they can't cope with your insanity and way of life.

Matt is it you

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

Photogenic Admissions and Confessional Panic Attacks

Gunpowder and Watermelon (part one)

Autocorrected Anxiety Attacks and Messy Sexts (part two)

Pachyderms and Pointed Teeth (part three)

Knocked Up Knockouts and Cheesy Puns (part four)

A Little Less Sparkle, A Little More Reality (part five)

The Overwhelming Significance of Surprisingly Small Jellybeans (part six)

The Folly of Fracturing Sharp China and Soft Hearts (part seven)

Fear and Lusting in London Flats (part eight)

The Inevitability of Egos Clashing and Vicious Tongue Lashings (part nine)

Of Sugar and Spice and Virgin Tight Asses (part ten)

A Rebel's Yell and A Gangster's Paradise (part eleven)

Candy Hearts and Paper Cut Families (part twelve)

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: ABO/Omegaverse dynamics (knots, slick, vaguely confusing reproductive explanations), love confessions, coming out, nervous boys, mpreg 🖤 Rating: mature in a PG-13 way, sorry guys. More smut soon!

"Jus' like tha'! Fuck, perfect. Don't bloody move an inch." Dom demanded when his lover found just the right angle.

"I'm trying, shit Dom I'm not good at this." Kells whined back.

"You know wha' you doing. Jus' stay- fuck!"

"Dom this isn't right. It doesn't feel right. Please can we… it's too tight! Let me just-" Every sentence seemed wrong so he'd try another but it was getting harder to speak every moment that passed. The exertion was too much.

"Don't you dare! I'm almost- almost- jus' fucking let me wiggle. 'Old still!"

"Fuck you no, we're gonna hurt the kid or you- Tom can you help?"

"I can help by promising you aren't getting into those pants right now Dom. Colson, you have to learn to tell him the truth. We've wasted ten minutes on this and now you might have imprints on your belly. The part of you that needs to look photogenic!" The beta scoffed, walking to his friend's closet to look for something else. Of course the scene playing out was a special kind of hilarious but he was far too tired of their shit at the moment.

Kells sighed and let go of the fabric in his hold, leaning back on his ankles. He was kneeling in front of his mate, trying to help him close a pair of slacks around his belly but it was impossible. The boy wore them too high and the zipper wouldn't close over his bump no matter how much wiggling he did or how hard Col yanked the edges.

Dom whimpered, his friend was right and he knew it, he just hated to admit it. If he already couldn't wear his own pants, how big was their whelp planning to make him? "Fine. Fuck am I supposed to wear for our shoot?" His voice broke on a whine, his eyes welling with unshed tears. It wasn't fair. His mate got to stay looking like a sex god while he turned into a pear.

"Ain't the point of this to show off the belly? You wear all your damn pants high enough you strangle your whole fucking package. Just put on some cute panties and I'll wear boxers and we'll… I dunno. I'm sure we'll make everyone very happy." Col teased, winking up at his gorgeous mate. He hated watching him get increasingly sad about his clothes when the alpha was so obsessed with every new ounce of growth.

His hands gripped the fabric again but this time he tugged them down and helped his bitch free of them before leaning closer. He pressed his cheek where he always felt like he belonged and nuzzled slow to soothe them both. They were both stressed as hell, this was a huge important terrifying thing they were doing but it was exhilarating too. Before the day was over the world would know about their Jellybean. "You driving momma crazy today huh? Think you can play nice? Tell him how much you love him?" He cooed against warm skin.

Dom was so overwhelmed but he still found himself smiling down at his baby daddy. How dare the man be so adorable while he was having a mental breakdown? "Nuffin for it luv. Damage is already done." He teased back, his fingers petting softly through his alpha's messy hair. The man hadn't left for a trim in almost two months so the bleach blonde locks were trying to rival his own wild raven nest. The bastard was beautiful though, as always.

"He doesn't mean it. He's just trying to do daddy a favor by making momma sexy as f-"

"No! Bad children, god! Here! Put these on." Tommy huffed, cutting off whatever come-on Kells was going to growl. The offering was a pair of silk leopard shorts that Dom knew barely covered any part of his ass but… they settled low enough they might frame his bump just right. "Cover up you little heathen and you! You're an alpha. Get off the floor." They all knew he was joking but the poor guy probably was exhausted by their little pack and even though he was hiding it he was just as anxious. This was his family too.

Colson helped his boyfriend into the shorts before he got up to find something for himself, he couldn't help glancing back though, Tom was right. The barely there shorts were almost too perfect. The band stretched just under the swell he loved so much, but they were loose enough the omega's cock wasn't completely on display. But that ass. That ass was going to be the death of him.

The omega smeared on his eyeliner while his mate was busy changing but his gaze kept dropping to his chest in his reflection. "Should I wear pasties?" He grumbled, immediately getting a scoff from his lover and his best friend.

"You've barely grown there. Shut the fuck up, you have to know you're perfect doll. Do I need to remind you how much I love you?" Colson asked, coming up behind him, those big palms settling on his hips.

"You do and we won't get nuffin done." He sighed back, finishing his makeup but he couldn't help a little wiggle against his alpha's cock. The man was a vision as always, bare besides a pair of black shorts with leopard accents. His actually had a little length though and Dom had to quip- "Prude."

"Slut."

"For you maybe."

"Good boy."

"NO! I am not making a bloody porn… unless…" Tom was half joking but honestly, the fans would love it.

A low growl rumbled in the alpha's chest. He wasn't in a state of mind to handle the idea of his mate on that much of a display but maybe someday. When he wasn't carrying their pup. If that ever fucking happened.

They let the photographer direct them, they'd made the bed up nice as well so everything matched and looked… well perfect for a porn. Tom was right. Colson didn't know how long they posed and moved and posed but eventually they started just cuddling and laughing together. Before long they slipped into their own little world and stopped caring how nervous they were. Eventually everything else completely fell away and they were just spending family time together. Tom captured every moment, sometimes filming little videos of the two laughing or snuggling and other times he snapped picture after picture. When Dom curled up and accidentally fell asleep with Colson's hand on his belly the beta knew that was the one. He almost teared up at the emotion of it all, the way the rapper stared at his mate and child. He couldn't help wondering how little the man slept, did he just watch all the time?

"I'll find the perfect one and send it to you." He whispered to the alpha as he pulled a blanket up over them all. He'd felt a bit like his best friend's mother for a long time but he was finally starting to see he could trust the other man with him. He'd never seen more devotion in someone's eyes.

"Thanks Tommy." Kells mumbled back and the beta rolled his eyes. He couldn't seem to get the dick to stop calling him that. With one last flash of his camera he slipped out the door, he knew he wouldn't be editing or searching long though. He already had the best ones in mind.

-Later-

Dom groaned as he woke up, his face burrowing against his lover's inked chest. He thought he heard singing but the room hushed when he moved. "M'up." He slurred, wiping a string of drool on those beautiful tattoos before he blinked his eyes open. His daddy was smiling at him lovingly but he could have sworn they were supposed to be doing- "Fuck! Where's Tom?"

Col couldn't help but laugh before pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's forehead. Shit the kid was precious sometimes. "He's already done, you crashed out dude. He got some cute pics out of it though." He hummed, handing Dom his phone.

He blinked his eyes clear and pushed himself to sit up before he took the phone and scrolled through the content. He knew his friend was a master at making him look good but fuck the photos were incredible. Each was sweet and just the right amount of sexy, some made the baby obvious and some seemed more about their love. He thought he knew how they looked at each other but- "Fuck, I'm really in love wiv you ain't I?" He whispered.

The rapper froze, his breath catching in his chest, and his heart racing. He was almost scared to say anything but he'd noticed the same look on himself in every picture. They'd said they loved each other as brothers, then admitted it as mates, but this was yet another step deeper and he was surprised how easily it rolled off his omega's tongue. "Yeah?" He finally made himself ask and the punk turned those soft jade eyes on him.

Dom felt himself blush, he hadn't meant to say it like that but he'd known it for a while. He'd realized it one day while watching his mate cum mark his skin but he never admitted feelings so easily. Maybe the hormones were making him soft. "Meant obviously you is wiv me. Duh. Course you is 'ough, look at me." He tried to change tactics and he flashed his lover the picture on screen.

Of course it was obvious, especially in the photo he'd paused on. In it Dom was on his lap, his legs spread over his hips. It was a position they knew very well but normally they didn't have clothes on for it. His big hands were framing the boy's belly but he was looking up at his face and they were both smiling. "It's obvious because I am. In love with you I mean. How could I not be?" He wasn't normally so… brutally honest. It wasn't their thing and his heart was in his throat with every word.

Dom whimpered but tried to keep hold of the teasing nature of their talk. If they weren't joking around and needling each other they were just… exposed and not in the fun way. "Yeah, I mean you looking at me like.. like uh… um… fuck off wiv tha'." He sniffled, his gaze dropping to his lap. "Your fault ya little brat. You make ya daddy gooey as fuck. Ya should 'ave seen 'im before you. He were a right scary bastard."

"Nah, that was just me before you. I'm still scary though. Just wait till someone tries to touch you." The man growled without meaning to and he tried to pull his lover close. Obviously Dom was up in his feels and he didn't want him upset in a bad way. Wasn't love supposed to be a good thing? Somehow they never seemed to act like it. They both fought the idea every step of the way until they admitted something by accident. He'd hoped they were past it since the night he let the omega fuck him but of course not. This had to be the last step though right?

"Same 'ere. You mine." The kid wasn't as threatening as he was probably trying to be, his wide Bambi eyes were wet and his pillow pout was quivering. More than anything Colson wanted to hold him but he didn't want him overwhelmed.

"Bet. I remember those shit kicker boots you got. You'll take them down." He purred, winking at his boy as he sat up and leaned closer. He pressed a kiss to his mate's cheek, his neck, and down to his shoulder until the punk shivered and let out a soft sigh.

"Which one do you like? Tom's got his pick and I've got mine. You choose your favorite and we can all post them together." He shrugged, resting his head on that pale freckled shoulder so he could watch him scroll. He knew he was changing the subject but did they really need to talk about it? Couldn't it be okay to just say it and move on? It didn't change their lives any extra, they were already mates. It had no bigger impact than the child they were having. They were in love. Fucking duh.

Dominic nodded and focused on the phone, his thumb shaking but he scrolled through. He already knew his favorite though, of course he did. How could he pick anything but what made them admit their feelings? He could blame the sentimentality on their little one. "Jellybee looks good 'ere. Photogenic jus' like her mumma." He teased, going back to the one he loved.

"Like his daddy but you're right, it's perfect babe." The alpha grinned but his heart rate picked up again when he saw Dom sending a text to Tom.

After a minute the beta appeared at their door and joined them, his own phone in hand. Oh fuck they were really doing this. "Breave." The singer commanded but he probably needed it the most. With the second trimester he was less nauseous but his nerves were back with a vengeance and his stomach was turning. He could feel both the others anxious as well but they tried to act calm. Three phones shook in three hands. "One…"

"Two…" Tom sighed, resting his free hand on his best friend's thigh. He was worried, he couldn't help it. This was his family too.

"Fuck it. Three." Col cursed, pressing post and closing his eyes tight. He hadn't added much besides tagging his mate and typing one word below it. 'Mine.'

Dom stared at his phone, his breath coming fast. He'd written simply, 'family' as a caption with three black hearts. One for each of them.

Tom squirmed in his seat, inching closer to his family, he didn't know why he was so on edge but he hated seeing his friends in pain. He had to hope at least most of the people were supportive. Someone's phone dinged and they all jumped, looking between them all. It was Col's and the comment was Ashleigh but it was only a moment before they were all going off and they had to mute them or go mad. Dom didn't do his usual, he didn't try answering any yet but they all set the electronics in a line in front of them and just… watched their world's change.

"Anyone else getting as many sex face emoji or is that just my peeps?" Kells laughed, and Dom rolled his eyes with a fond smile.

"'Earts mostly. Lots of 'wtf's and 'omg's." The omega sighed, at least people seemed happy for them if surprised. When Travis Barker posted a congrats to his stories Dom felt himself tearing up again. "I miss beer. Can I 'ave a beer?"

"No." They answered in tandem but Col curled his arm around him and kissed his hair. He caught Mod congratulating them too and so many more of their friends. The alpha was starting to regret hiding out so long. Of course there was bad as well. Homophobes, omegaphobes, just random haters, but overwhelmingly people were sending love. He knew it wouldn't be long before the rags picked it up but he didn't plan to look yet. That was Ash's job and she was on her way. They'd have to make a statement, they'd probably get asked to do interviews, they'd have a spotlight on them soon but for the moment they just got to focus on how sweet their fans could be. His favorite were the fights in the comments when someone would say they called it from the music video. He couldn't help but laugh. Maybe it really would be okay, maybe they'd been scared for nothing. He was just happy his lover was distracted from his confessional panic attack.

"I love you." He hummed low, almost purring when Dom pressed against him.

"Love you too daddy." The boy whispered back, at least that he wasn't scared to say.

"I don't feel left out or anything..." Tom teased and they both laughed, Col reaching around his boyfriend to pull the beta close.

"We love you too auntie T." The scoff he got for that one was loud and indignant but he could tell the man was happy to be included. After all, they needed all the family they could get.

Author's Note/Tags: @manicpixiedreamb0y @jaxbreaker @hollywoodxwhore @cole-way-iero28 if anyone else wants tagged let me know! Hope y'all enjoyed their public coming out. More smut soon though don't worry, it never takes these boys long 🖤

[monique-pineda]

TWO-EDGED WEAPON OF ENGLISH MAJOR STUDENT

Indulging yourself in different worlds of literature while dealing with so many academic workloads. Understanding grammar while being misunderstood by other people because of your course. Yes, that's the life of an education student majoring in English.

Being an English major isn't all sunshine and roses or a walk in the park; it's a roller coaster ride full of struggles, challenges, and late-night breakdown sessions. Embracing this course means you are willing to experience new adventures every day. From reading classic novels to analyzing poetry, we have the privilege of immersing ourselves in the beauty of literature. However, before we can get to appreciate the benefits we can get from it, sometimes it is really hard to stay calm and focus in the moments when we have to read novels thicker than our belly fat in just one night. Let's say you are a bookworm and you love reading stories, but we, English majors, are also exposed to huge workloads like never-ending lesson plans, research papers, and essays.

Aside from these bunches of readings, we are also critically understanding the rules of grammar, lexical structures, and even pronunciation. It is indeed overwhelming considering deadlines, exams, presentations, and performances. Going beyond these students' struggles, another hardship is the pressure to excel in both teaching and the English subject matter. The high expectations cause stress and anxiety. The fear of committing grammatical lapses because of the discrimination and notions that people will throw at us. 

However, there are always two sides to the story, so let me share the advantages we get from this course. Committing to it is challenging but also rewarding. Aside from the fact that there are a lot of job opportunities after finishing this course, there are so many benefits that we can get from pursuing this career. Reading literature does not only give us the privilege to adapt to different writing styles but can also nurture the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual aspects of our lives and health. Aside from the life lessons, it can also serve as a temporary escape from everything that can help us relax. It can also improve our analytical skills and even develop our empathy for and knowledge of different cultures and histories. We gain a deeper understanding of the complexities of language and communication. Additionally, being exposed to this overwhelming and exhausting environment also helps us find ways to manage our workloads by utilizing effective time management and organizational skills, which are essential for our future careers as educators.

Lastly, despite the struggles and challenges, English major students are honored and fortunate, as we have the assurance that we are equipped with the skills and experiences to fulfill our calling in the future. The road might be long and difficult, but the rewards will outweigh the challenges; it's a two-edged weapon that we need to have, experience and embrace as struggles is one of our major molders. Being an education student majoring in English is an endless exploration while offering wisdom and inspiration to future generations.