#i cannot stay awake any longer my eyes feel like fucking bruises
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i slept so fuckin bad yesterday that im passing out befofe the sun is even down lmao
#red rambles#i cannot stay awake any longer my eyes feel like fucking bruises#fk what im gonna do when i ineivitsbly wake up tomorrow at 2am and have to go to my 5-9pm coass
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some late nite thotz:
my face is healing nicely! this is the least invasive operation i have ever had. normally i look like i've been in a car accident for weeks on end but dr. dreamboat used his medical prowess to avoid such disasters. i still do not feel like i can do a full day's work yet and need to rest my eyes which gets very sore especially after a certain amount of hours staying open.
do not have an outfit planned for tomorrow night's show but am surprised that i am about to talk about my face on stage without having to even really explain any further bruising, it's just my regular degular act which is very low presh and requires me to be a person in the world for maybe an hour or so before i can return home to my cats. i am excited! last year it was a packed house for this festival and i am a zillion times more relaxed about the whole thing, of all times to be.
woke up to natasha crying when she can barely meow normally and realized she either caught a mouse OR a roach. i hope it was just a roach i cannot stomach dealing with a half dead mouse in the morning. this happened an hour after i went to sleep and now i am just awake twiddling my thumbs.
i feel like i am at a very big pivotal point in my life of MANY big pivotal points. constantly taking the universe's call for redirection and following the signs to my true north. definitely thought i would have found it by now but i guess it's an evergrowing process for everyone.
accidentally fasted all day? remind me to eat tomorrow.
i like looking at everyone's smushy babies online. i may go back to babysitting i really miss the endorphins of a child in my arms. plus no drama and im good at it and it will remind me not to breed.
i will probably be fertile for way longer than the normal amount of time. the women in my family don't get menopause til way later in life i think my mom was in her 60's or very close to it and the dr told her that her body still thought it was sixteen. i also did not spend my entire life on birth control like most ppl i know. i took it once when i was like 10 or 11 to attempt to regulate my insane hemorrhaging periods and it made me fucking. crazy. like the most suicidal i can ever remember being was around that time. then i think i tried again at around 19 for a week for a similar reason and was like nope! just going to be celibate forever thanks!!! all this to say i am pretty sure this somehow means i am still highly capable of immaculate conception. i can tell my uterus is ready to bind me into a spiritual contract with someone because lately when i ovulate i become the hunter.
i will not give in. i'll just go back to nannying.
so now that we know each other a little better do you think i can see your nipples? come on, just one nip. just one little measly ole nippy nip. be a pal.
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Could I get a Hawks in his rut headcanon?
No problem, Anon! I’m sorry this took so long, I wanted it to be perfect since I really like thinking about Hawks’ avian traits, and I know people really like it too. I hope it’s good!
Hawks Rut Headcannons
Genre: fluff, smut
Type: headcannons (so... many... headcannons)
Warnings: animal traits, Keigo being possessive af, the commission being assholes, sickness, food, breeding kink, lots of horny times
Other: most of this is based off of real research, but some of it also comes from personal preference. @keilemlucent and their fic Best Nest very much inspired many other headcannons, check them outI They’re one of my favorite creators, and the linked fanfic is one of my favorites! Hope it’s okay I tagged you here lmao
NSFW Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy (Lemme know if you wanna be added to or removed from the Taglist)
Remember to check if requests are open before sending in a request. This was made while requests were still open.
Pre-Rut Behaviors
Grooming and Preening
Before his rut, Keigo starts to feel dirty. He just seems to accumulate more dust and dirt during hero work than usual. He’ll come back home grumbling about blood in his hair and little bits of concrete in/on his skin.
He will insist you clean him off. So you get to brush his hair, put creams on his face, and wash him off in the shower.
Finally, there’s the preening. If he lets you preen his wings, then you know he’s in it for life. He loves and trusts you with everything he has.
Expect him to press his nose against yours a lot.
Possessiveness and Protection
You’ll notice he gets more clingy, more possessive of you. He gets really controlling in the days leading up to his rut, so you’ll be annoyed a l o t.
Just text all your friends and family that you’ve been swamped at work, it’d be a little weird to say “hey guys, sorry I can’t hang out, my boyfriend’s horomones are crazy right now and he gets really insecure if I so much as exist near anyone but him.”
You would come home from work and he’s already on you, sniffing your body to see who you’ve been around, and to see if any of them were attracted to you at all.
If he had any kind of sneaking suspicion that anyone posed a threat, he’s literally laying on you and rolling on top of you to try and get his scent on you. Even if no one will smell it except him, he’s gonna do it.
He’s so protective of you, and if something tiny hurts you or makes you upset...
He.
Is.
Angry.
Someone was rude to you? He’s screaming at them.
Someone tries to hurt or touch you? You’ve got to hold him back to stop him from ripping that person apart limb from limb.
All that x100 when he’s approaching his rut.
One person accidentally bumps into you? He takes it as passive aggressiveness even if they’re very apologetic about it.
You stub your toe on a table? He’s smashed the table and burnt it then thrown the ashes in the ocean.
If you’re sad about something he can’t beat up, he feels horrible. He’s not the best at comforting people, so he’s just grabbing onto you and not letting go, telling you how much he loves and cares for you, and just how amazing you make his life feel.
If you don’t give him enough attention, he gets really huffy, and it gets worse leading up to his rut.
You lifted your hands from his head to reach for your buzzing phone? He’s already whining and pouting and begging you to give him more head-pats again.
Nesting
He’ll leave hints asking for you to make a nest, usually saying things like “Our bed needs some changing, don’t you think?” “Don’t you wish our space was more personalized?”
If you don’t get the hint, he’ll be very sad, and he thinks you’re rejecting him. So you’d better be good at reading into things and realizing he’s approaching mating season and wants you to build a nest.
He comes home one day and sees you piled blankets, pillows, and dirty clothes in the living room, sprayed with his cologne and you’re cologne and/or perfume. He pulls you into his arms and spins around with you, giggling and laughing.
He’s so happy you made a nest for the two of you.
He starts putting pretty shiny things he likes around the nest. Your toothbrush went missing and you found it in the mountain that was your nest.
Once, you were in desperate need of a clean shirt, and the only clean shirt you could find was in the nest. So you picked it up to put it on, and two seconds later, Keigo was in front of you, hands in your shirt, staring at you with such a fierce intensity, you felt almost like a villain.
He was very mad at you for taking things from your shared nest.
He leaves feathers all around the penthouse, but they’re all piled mostly around the nest, they’re for your protection so don’t try and throw them away.
Noises
He also gets really noisy, so he’ll be ‘singing’ and squawking and cooing constantly. He feels really bad about it so he might get you some noise-blocking headphones for when he’s screeching into the sky in the dead of night about how “THIS IS MY FUCKING TERRITORY Y’ALL MOTHERFUCKERS STAY AWAYYYY!”
You really think bird’s springtime songs are about love? Nah he’s mostly screaming about how he’s gonna fuck his partner and how the neighborhood practically belongs to him.
Someone called the police once, tired of all the shouting, but the officers backed off when they saw who was doing all the shouting. Most of your neighbors are used to the screaming during early spring.
Rut End-game
On the third and second to last day before his rut, he gets a sudden burst of energy and an increased appetite. He refuses to eat anything unless you’ve made it though, so let’s best hope you can cook at least a little.
When he was younger, his hungry times before his rut were spent either eating anything and everything he can get his hands on. The commission broke that behavior very quickly though, so he’d starve himself before his rut, which would result in him getting very sick from a lack of energy and sustenance. That plus the extreme arousal was a recipe for pain and suffering.
So when you noticed he suddenly stopped eating, you insisted on making food for him, telling him that you wouldn’t let him go hungry ever. That was the first rut in years that didn’t feel like torture.
You’re cooking almost all the time, and he’s constantly eating everything you give him, running around from room to room while he waits for his next meal. He’s basically a hobbit.
In the last day or two before his rut, he suddenly has no energy, and starts getting hot and cold flashes. He’s sniffling, curled up in your shared nest, dirty tissues surrounding him. He comes in and out of consciosness, and when he’s awake, he’s whining and complaining about exhaustion and aches.
Physical Changes
Most of these happen in the last few days leading up to his rut, so it’ll be very sudden. These physical changes is what causes the extreme hunger and sickness.
His feathers darken several shades, and they become super sensitive. They also seem to grow in size, so when you cuddle, you’re smothered by them more than usual.
He also gains an extra couple inches in height, so expect some teasing now that he’s just that little bit taller. His hair also gets thicker and stronger, that’s so you can pull on it when he fucks you.
His nails get longer and darker, and they’re impossible to file or cut. So when he holds you and touches you, he often scratches you on accident. He’s really apologetic about it, but honestly you could totally paint his nails and pretend they’re acrylics if you’re into that.
His teeth get sharper, and he starts biting you just for fun. Bites your finger, hand, wrist, neck, even your nose. He underestimated just how strong his teeth are, and he made you bleed first time he bit you.
His whole body is very sensitive, so head-pats, back rubs, wings, and even his touching his feet can get him to the verge of cumming.
his tongue is longer, and it’s a whole lot stronger. He could probably carry a full plastic water bottle with his tongue (which isn’t a lot, but for a tongue it’s very much a lot).
His voice drops a whole octave and a half- mans is sounding almost like Corpse now. Maybe Markiplier? Anyways, if you’ve got a voice kink, you’re in luck
His dick changes too, it gets bigger, and he grows a lump at the base of it, between his shaft and balls. His balls get smaller until they’re barely noticable beneath what he calls him ‘knot.’
His eyes become sharper too, so don’t try and hide anything from him.
Rut (MAJOR NSFW)
Everyone already knows Keigo has a breeding kink, but he hasn’t brought it up with you until now. It just kind of- happens. As he’s drilling into you, he suddenly starts blabbering about fucking a kid into you, and how hot you’d look all round with his kids. Might be a little weird for those of you who physically cannot give birth to children (my lovely AMABS and infertile AFABS).
He can’t control it, so it’s especially weird if you don’t even want kids. If you can get pregnant, you’d better double check that you’re taking your birth control. And get to know some good clinics just in case.
However, if you do want kids, if you want to start a biological family woth Keigo, fuck. You will not be able to handle his happiness and horniness in that moment when you beg him to get you pregnant.
He is going to mark you up. Hickies, bruises, hand prints, bite marks, plus his scent. He needs everyone to know that you are his. He wants to claim you, make sure you know you belong to him. No one else can have you but him.
Halfway through your fuckfest, he starts making animalistic noises. He’s growling, roaring, whining, chirping, etc. This is around the time when he stops thinking about you, so he’ll really rough you up during this phase.
This man was a virgin before you, so this is also the first rut he’s ever going to have with another person, so he’ll hold himself back a lot. He needs you to reassure him at every step, tell him how good you feel, how you want him to fuck you, how not only are you okay with him going all out, you want him too.
Did he just cum? You think you’re finished? HA! No way in fucking hell is he finished after one, two, five, ten... so many rounds. He just keeps going and going and going and how the fuck is he still hard? He cums so fucking quickly, so much, and then keeps going.
When he finally does go soft, his whole personality changes. it’s like he didn’t just fuck you stupid. He immediately goes into ‘protect’ mode, which includes cuddles, him spoon-feeding you, petting you like a dog, and singing to you.
He puts the nest near a window so he can keep an eye out for possible threats. Just like “gotta keep mate safe. Is that the mailman? NO FUCK NO GET OUT OF HEREEEE!”
One moment, he’s fucking you, and the next he’s leaning halfway out the window, screaming at some poor dude walking his dog. Remember, he’s still naked. You learned your lesson after that and kept the windows locked, and warned the neighbors to stay out of sight of the window, at least for the time being.
You’re going to feel very dirty, because he does not want you cleaning off the sweat, cum, and tears from your body. He likes that you smell like him, and you washing it off makes him feel rejected.
He’s going to break a lot of things, so move pictures and vases into another room and lock the fuck out of that room. Or else he will break all of it.
He thinks any clothes you’re wearing are mocking him, so wear clothes you hate when his rut starts, then get used to being naked for a couple days.
Oh yeah, his whole rut lasts one to five days. He’s fucking you for about three days on average.
He fucks you until you faint, and then keeps going until he’s out of ‘fuck’ mode and into ‘protect’ mode. A few times, he fucked you unconscious in the middle of the afternoon and then kept fucking you until the sun rose.
Yeah, he’s got that much energy.
Don’t worry, during the whole time, he lets out pheromones with a strong vanilla-chocolaty scent that keeps your body and mind relaxed.
There’ve been times when he’s just fucking into you and your water bottle is just out of reach.
During his rut, he has no shame. Let’s hope your walls are soundproofed, or else your neighbors will all know how he fucks you.
He will not restrain you or hurt you in any way during his rut. So no degredation, no collars or chains, the only thing keeping you in the nest is his weight on top of you.
He gets upset if you try to touch yourself, things it’s you trying to tell him that he’s not satisfying you enough.
He wants you to cum as many times as him, which is difficult because of his increased sensitivity, so he’s using every skill he knows to get you cumming again and again and again.
Most of the time, he’s going hard, rough, and spilling absolute filth from his cock and mouth, but in the last few hours of his rut, he suddenly gets emotional.
He’s rocking up against you, holding you close to his body and blabbering about you
How much he loves you
How good you make him feel
How he wouldn’t want anyone else by his side for his rut
How you’re his mate for life
How he’ll protect you and keep you safe.
Please be gentle with him, he’s very vulnerable near the end of his rut, and he’ll cry very easily.
When he’s nearing his last load, he makes out with you sloppily, trying to talk as he shoves his tongue down your throat.
He finishes off by pushing his knot all the way inside you, and stays there for an hour.
This is the softest moment, and he’s covering your body in kisses.
His knot pushes these small eggs inside you, and you have the lovely job of pushing them all out the next day.
Post Rut
When his knot deflates, he finally pulls out and starts cleaning you off.
He’ll carry you around and finally gives you a bath, constantly making sure you’re okay.
He’ll give you lots of massages and he’ll cook for you. He’s constantly thanking you for helping him, telling you he didn’t deserve it.
Just kiss him on the cheek, tell him you had fun, and that you love him so very very much.
He needs the most reassurance now than ever before.
He’s also very tired, so you’ll be taking care of each other.
Then his ‘post-rut’ resets, and he sleeps for hours.
Then he gets super hungry, and the two of you make huge meals and just kinda binge eat for a day or two.
Then his physical changes go back to normal, and you have a happy lil bird boy who simps for you so hard
#bnha#mha#keigo takami#mha hawks#bnha hawks#bnha x reader#hawks x reader#hawks x y/n#mha x reader#takami keigo#hawks rut#hawks headcanons#hawks drabble#hawks imagine#keigo takami x you#hawks smut#keigo smut#keigo rut#rut#poc reader#male reader#hawks x male reader#hawks x trans reader#trans reader#gender neutral reader#hawks x gender neutral reader
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to all the pilots i've loved before {poe dameron} - 3/4
part three: better half of a whole
summary: you’re in love with poe dameron. it’s both the most complicated and most simple thing in the galaxy - and it’s all shoved into a shoe-box under your bed, in the form of a thousand love letters. here’s to hoping he never finds them. (series masterlist)
warnings: language, mentions of injury
i'm so sorry this took me so long to write!! i got writer's block and then i was horribly busy with a thousand others things and sadly, i cannot prioritise fan fiction over real life duties. and i would know, because i've tried
enjoy!!
- jazz
Poe didn't sleep for...well, it was probably days. Felt like years.
Dear trouble,
Every time he closed his eyes, your face would flash into his mind. The sound of your laugh echoing amongst the cries of war; the feel of your soft hands tracing the remains of battle scars and wounds. What if the hug you gave him before you left was the last? What if your slightly pained laughter at the shitty joke he'd made in the jungle the night before was all he had left? He cherished every memory he had of you but he loved you more.
I know you hate when I call you that, but it feels pretty accurate - because you do cause trouble, normally with me but more recently FOR me. Anyways, I never considered myself to be much of a letter writer, but then I saw yours and...fuck.
Love. What a funny fucking word, right? Said so easily, but meant so much. Something that felt so hard to find, but even more difficult to hold onto. His parents had found it and they'd kept it for so long, and he'd always wanted the same - nothing less, nothing more. Just the kind of unwavering, undying love that can survive a war and be happy with the domesticity that followed. The only difference between Poe and his parents was that they'd been fearless with every aspect of their lives, not withholding their ability to express feelings. Perhaps that's where he fell short. Shara had taught him a lot of things but she'd been lost before he taught her how to pull his head out his ass and just...say things how they were.
What am I even supposed to say? I love you too would be a start, because I obviously I do. I've always wanted to say it but I never wanted to risk what we had in case you secretly hated me, and now I'm going to live out the rest of my days regretting it.
The first that Poe managed to finally get some rest was four days after Leia had broken the news of your disappearance. He'd fallen asleep in his quarters, curled up into Finn's side and clutching a t-shirt of his that he'd left in your room - you'd borrowed it a few months ago, and it still smelt of you. It was a mixture of your everyday body fragrance and a little of engine oil. BB-8 was snoozing quietly in the corner and for the first time in days, Poe's jaw and shoulders weren't tense and clenched.
The little robot did stir, however, when he got a comms system message from Leia. He was awake immediately, cruising across the room and crashing straight into the nearest human he could find - and it was at that point that Finn regretted leaving his leg dangling off the side of the bed. He jumped awake, brown eyes finding the droid peering up at him.
You're not just my best friend. You're my partner in crime, my soulmate and you know that twin flame bullshit that Rey always go on about? You're probably that too because we're both flaming hot. You're the better half of this whole. You and me.
"Poe is sleeping, buddy," he quietly said.
"There's a message from the general," BB-8 beeped back.
Poe suddenly woke up at that - it could have been any message, and certainly not one about you, but something in his gut told him otherwise. If it hadn't have been, Leia would have left it til morning, or not even bothered him at all in his current state.
"What?" the pilot asked. "What is it?"
"They're back, in the med-"
Poe didn't give him a chance to say anything else, because he was already up and out the door - jacket unzipped, boots half unlaced, hair sticking up in a thousand different directions.
And even though he hadn't slept for days, he was running for his dear fucking life. The medical bay was right on the other side of the base and he didn't care. You were there - in what state, he didn't know - and that was all that mattered. He was just wanted to be with you, beside you, and he never planned on leaving.
If I see you again, I'm not gonna hide it anymore. I love you and you deserve to know that. I'm gonna give you the fucking world, I promise.
Poe skidded around the corner, stopping his tracks when he saw you across the room. You looked tired - far past it, in fact - and his entire body tensed when he saw the bruises on your arm and up your neck. Still, he took comfort in the fact that he knew you put up a good fight. You'd sparred together enough times and given him enough bruises to last a life time.
There was a slight oof as someone crashed into the back of Poe (Finn's subtle way of announcing his arrival). He placed a hand on his shoulder, shoving him forward slightly. It was clear that Poe was in a state of shock - at your loss, at your declaration, and even more at your return - because the last few days had changed everything.
Everything he'd ever wanted was about to come to fruition. No pressure.
"Go to them," Finn murmured.
With that, Poe took a few steps forward - you met him half away across the room, chests colliding with enough force to knock down an ATAT. He wound his arms you, pulling you towards him with one hand tangled in your hair and the other holding your back. He clung to you, tears in his eyes and entire body shaking, almost as though he was using the feeling of you to act as a reminder that this wasn't a dream. You were here. You were back. Perhaps a little worst for wear, but alive and standing all the same.
I don't know how I'll say it. Am I meant to just blurt it out? I've never said it to anyone before, so...what the fuck am I meant to do? Normally, I'd come to you for advice on this sort of this but that feels a bit counter intuitive.
"Hey, Poe," you gently murmured.
"Hey, trouble," he let out a shaky laugh, pulling back from the hug to clutch your face in his hands. "You're alive. You're here-"
"- yeah, I'm here," you grinned.
"What happened?" he pushed. "If I ever find those First Order bastards, I swear it's on site."
"They were trying to shoot us out the sky, so we had to lay low on a random moon for a few days, but the residents of said moon were not very friendly and - you know what? It doesn't matter," you leant into his touch, relishing the feeling of his hands against your skin. "I'm here and that's what's important."
"I was so scared," Poe admitted. "And they had me search your room for back up plans and-"
You froze.
"You...you searched my room?" you stuttered. "What did you find?"
The main thing is, I AM gonna tell you. I promise. Just...please come back.
Love, Poe
Poe's eyes widened - maybe now wasn't the best time to break the news. You were bleeding from your head and hadn't slept for days. To spring it on you before you were even cleaned up felt a bit unfair. His worst fears had been avoided, so he didn't mind waiting just a little longer.
"Nothing," he forced a smile. "C'mon, I'll clean you up."
Taking your hand in his, Poe lead you towards one of the beds. He was hardly a medical expert, but he'd been through enough cuts and scrapes to have a basic understanding of stitches. And luckily, your injuries didn't look too bad. It was more just the fact you had them in the first place that hurt him.
What if he'd gone on the mission with you? Or convinced you to stay? Fuck, he would have gone in your place if he knew what was going to happen. The last few days had been the worst of his life and he almost felt responsible for what had happened to you. Your pain was his pain, and he felt it in every fibre of his being.
But, of all things, at least he knew what love was now - and if you had never have gone MIA, he never would have gone looking in your room, and he never would have found those letters. It felt like a bit of a dick move to call them a blessing in disguise but his mother had always taught him the value of looking for silver linings. The last week had been one giant thunderstorm. There had been no breaks in the rain, or sun peaking through the clouds. It had just been darkness and thunder, but it was all beginning to clear now.
What was it that Shara had said when Poe was a kid? Things have a funny way of working out. This was all a testament to that, and also to the fact that she always seemed to be right.
Poe's hands moved gently as he stitched up the cut on your forehead. They were still steady as they moved, brown eyes occasionally moving down to meet yours. He always smiled when they did.
"There we go," he said. "That shouldn't scar, but if it does, it would make you look like a bad-ass, so..."
You chuckled slightly. "Thanks, Dameron."
"You don't have to thank me," he quietly murmured, running a thumb over your cheek. "I'm just glad you're back."
"Right," you grinned. "What did you do whilst I was gone?"
Cried. Read those letters. Cried some more. Wrote a letter myself, then cried on that too.
"I just...I caught up some on some reading," he forced a smile. "C'mon, let's go to my quarters. I have some bactaspray there for those bruises."
Poe took your hand in his again and helped you up off of the bed - you seemed okay to walk, but he didn't let go. He needed to feel you, to know that you were there. He was worried you might float away into the galaxy and disappear all over again if he didn't cling onto you.
And for you, the feeling of his warm hands against yours was a welcome relief after a long few days. You were trying to push the pain and the incoming nightmares to the back of your head, and it was much easier when Poe was beside you. You already knew that he was going to make you sleep beside him that night. Being on the same wavelength so often was a great feeling.
Poe hadn't thought about tidying his room - why would he? He'd been so preoccupied with you, and finding you, that he'd barely considered the idea. Besides, it wasn't like you were going to care about the shoes by his door, or the letters on his desk, or the unfolded laund-
- fuck.
The letters.
Your box of letters, which was sat on his desk, which was right by the door.
By the time he'd even registered that they were there, you were already half way into the room. In a somewhat half-arsed attempt to shove them back in the box and toss them to the side, Poe dove forward and knocked them into an open draw, slamming it shut.
When he turned around and saw your wide eyes, it was clear he was a little too late. You'd already seen them.
taglist: tags: @neverlandlibrarian @asphyzzz @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @ubri812 @taina-eny @dessinemoiunehistoire @fangirl-316 @princessxkenobi @brandyllyn
#poe dameron x reader#poe dameron imagine#poe dameron x you#poe dameron reader insert#poe dameron fluff#poe dameron angst#poe x you#poe dameron imagines#poe dameron fan fiction#star wars x reader#star wars imagines#star wars x you#star wars fluff#star wars angst#star wars fanfiction#star wars reader inserts
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Waxing Gibbous
Pairing: Ezra + femNurse! Reader
Rating: Hard M / 18+ ONLY
* Warnings: comfort/ injury /SMUT (super explicit I’m not kidding I have sinned)/ This is just straight up pornography tbh
* Summary: uh, sex. They bang.
* Word Count: 2631
*So I’ve never written such naughty, naughty things in my life….I thought I’d have a hard time but oops I guess I’m a whore. To prepare me for the ensuing sacrilege I read and then re-read the exquisite smutty work of @absurdthirst, @yespolkadotkitty, and @di-kut. Many thanks to these amazing writers for continuing to inspire me.
Part One Part Two Part Three
PART FOUR
Time moved unlike a straight line from one point to another, but rather like the ripples in a stream when a pebble was tossed in. The pebble was the day you were attacked. Ezra was the stream, and he flowed around you and outward and rode time like it was a beast he could tame.
You were surprised he let you use the refresher by yourself after that day. He was always hovering, a shadow ensuring you could not trip up, you could not wander and lose yourself.
Two weeks since the incident in the field, your bruises were finally faded to a sickly yellow. You were fortunate, incredibly so, to have not sustained more serious injury. Kevva had looked out for you, and now so did Ezra.
You noticed that he had become a bit quieter, more contemplative. When he spoke to you he seemed to weigh his words. He checked in with you often- were you okay, were you thirsty, were you having bad dreams? Ezra had his share of nightmares, he was unafraid to tell you in the darkness of night that there was no weakness in confessing such things. He no longer hid how he looked at you, and you often held his gaze until you could bear no more and turned away burning. You noticed that he touched you often, a hand on your shoulder or against the small of your back. You remembered the day he had absentmindedly reached out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear, as if he’d done it many multitudes of times before. It had made you feel like both a treasure and an exposed nerve.
Ezra’s cot stayed where it was moved that first night, sidled up with yours. You’d first held onto one another’s hands each night as part of a new ritual between soft words and sighs. You’d drifted slowly closer in cover of darkness, eventually tucked against him when you awoke in the morning. It began to be like this more often than not.
You’d refrained from trying to broach anything more physical from him for the time being as you healed from your injuries. As you slowly came back to yourself, your desire for him returned. One night, instead of latching onto his hand, you’d beckoned his arms around you and aligned your back with his chest. His breath bloomed sweetly against the back of your neck as you ran a warm palm slowly up and then down the arm around your waist. Your skin felt electric against him. Slowly he responded to your languid touches with his own, rounding his own burning palms over the curve of your hip. A sense of fullness began to build between your legs, and pressure was cresting to an aching burn as some hidden part of you roared awake. You were dimly aware of your breaths becoming heavier, more explosive.
The string snapped. Without warning Ezra ground his hips into yours and attached his hot mouth to your neck. You could not stop the moan that escaped your mouth, it surprised you in its volume. Ezra moaned in answer to you and placed his lips to the shell of your ear.
“Is this real? Is this really happening?” His voice was impossibly low, husking and landing in plosives against your ear. The feeling of the low force of his words were like an electric shock that arched straight to your cunt.
Your eyes were squeezed shut, you were convinced that at any second he might evaporate. You gasped and arched your back involuntarily when you felt the tip of his hot, wet tongue against your lobe. He hadn’t even touched you yet and you felt as if you would explode. He strained forward to meet the cleft of your ass and you felt him, impossibly hot and hard. Your voice left you strangled.
“Ha...oh...fuck Ezra…pleasepleaseplease touch me. I’ll die if you don’t touch me…”
His lips still held to your ear, he murmured to you as his own breath gasped and hitched.
“Dove, you have to know that this cannot be a one-time encounter. I intend on ruining you for anyone else.” His teeth nipped at your neck, you gasped and shuddered. You were going to cum just like this, his breath and his words and his length pressed against you and he hadn’t even touched you yet.
You actually sobbed when his hand finally connected with you, you had expected his fingers to go first to your breasts like the well-established patterns of foreplay the men before him ascribed to, but instead his hand had curved down the swell of your ass and had slid between your legs to cup your weeping core. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t speak, you keened out into the darkness and ground yourself desperately against the heel of his hand.
He pressed against you and your cunt was volcanically hot through the thin fabric of your thermal pants.
“How are you so hot?” he whispered, as if almost to himself. “How is this divine sex so ready for me?” His voice was impossibly closer. “Answer me, angel.”
You craned your head backward to seek his mouth. His words were molten, you felt like you were flying apart.
“Ezra, please…..”
Before you could blink, Ezra was ripping your pants down your legs, barely pausing to unhook them from your ankles, tossing them violently to the side.
Getting back on the cot he rolled you onto your back before plunging his hand back between your legs. His fingers slid through your slick, and the groan that ripped itself from his mouth was filthy.
“FUCK.” He was panting against your mouth, his lips hovering, not touching, just beyond your grasp. You inhaled as he exhaled desperately, gasping him into you the way you needed him inside you elsewhere.
“Kevva wept, I have never felt a cunt like this, if this is what I am doing to you I’m as good as deified.” You gasped when he removed his hand and brought it up to your face. Your slick was coating each digit like a perverse film, webbing in strands between his fingers.
You should have shook with embarrassment, you thought, but your eyes widened in fascination as he brought his sodden fingers to your mouth and slowly painted your lips with your own arousal. You flicked your tongue out to taste yourself.
“Oh my God,” you whined.
It was then that Ezra finally kissed you, dipping his own tongue into the cavern of your mouth before following with his feral lips. His hand shot back down between your legs and he pressed his first two fingers to either side of your aching clit.
He moved his mouth against yours with a growl as he pressed down and slid his fingers up and down aside your erect bud, the noises from your soaked core reverberating through the tent.
Without warning your orgasm slammed into you like an intergalactic freighter, and you vaguely realized you may be screaming. Your entire body seized and shook, your back arching you off the mattress, and it was nothing like anything you’d ever experienced, you could not control the movements of your limbs and you could feel your cunt squeezing and gushing and bearing down on nothing as Ezra seemed momentarily as surprised as you were.
His eyes locked on your face, wide with wonder as he kept up a slow, steady pace.
“My sweet, beautiful girl, I’ve never seen anything as erotic as the spectre of you falling apart beneath me…” His eyes, soulful and sincere, searched yours as his fingers moved lower to your twitching hole. He slid his mouth back to the cusp of your ear and pitched his voice low and the syrup that erupted from his tongue was soaked in sin.
“Do it again.”
He slid first one, then two fingers into your grasping channel. The way he moaned when he did so, it could have been his cock instead.
“Sweet Kevva fuck, I may not survive you.”
He angled his fingers and zeroed in on a textured, spongy portion of your leaking passage and pistoned his fingers in and out against it. You were immediately brought right back to the precipice as you felt another climax build within you. You were shocked, having never been brought so close so quickly before. In the past you’d had orgasms with women and men, but you were always left sated after one, if a bit overstimulated. You were wholly inexperienced when it came to the razor-sharp lust and hunger that Ezra was spiking in you.
You were making sounds you’d thought yourself incapable of. You should have been mortified. You were consumed, you could not find it within yourself to care.
Ezra slanted his mouth to yours and sank his teeth into your lower lip, pulling it outward as obscene wet noises continued unabated. The pressure between your legs was building and you didn’t know if you could handle it, didn’t know how to ride this wave but your legs were shaking, your head thrown back and mouth open.
Ezra watched your face with his forehead resting against yours, tracking your frantic eyes roaming wide, blown black with lust. He whispered low, almost imperceptible.
“.....yesyesyesyesyesyes…….”
When your dam burst this time it was different, deeper. You could not cry, you could not scream. You convulsed, almost folding in half. You had no control over your movements. You were dimly aware that you’d soaked your mattress, you’d soaked Ezra’s fingers and he swore thickly as you clamped and squeezed and fluttered around his hand.
“Look at you Dove, you’re doing so well for me. So tight, so perfect. I have dreamt of exactly this for endless nights. It has been an exquisite torture to lie mere feet from you and deprive myself of this gift, resplendent before me.”
Your hands flew to the sides of his face, grabbing the hair that curled around his ears. You pulled his face down to yours and kissed him, groaning into his mouth as your tongue ran along his teeth. You tried to pour into it every ounce of emotion you felt, desire and abandon still flashing and sparking. You ran one hand down his chest, down the front of his pants and through the curls on the soft flesh of his groin. Ezra stilled, mouth open and gasping when you wrapped your hand around his cock. It was larger than you’d anticipated and you paused mid-stroke, stilling your hand on the weeping head. He was hot and leaking onto your hand.
Ezra’s eyes were squeezed tight, panting rapidly against the side of your neck. He moaned softly as he moved his hand across the flesh of your breasts, pausing to pull and squeeze your nipples. You gasped at the pinching sensation shooting into you; your cunt clenched in response.
“I want you in my mouth,” you husked out, lowering your hand further to cup his balls. Ezra hissed, his brow creasing.
“I….I fear I won’t last long enough if that sinful mouth comes anywhere near to where I need you,” he whispered, and his voice was straining and desperate as he thrust into your slick palm. You craned your face upward, teeth scraping against his jaw.
“Then fuck me, Ezra.”
He swallowed thickly, then reached down with a trembling hand, rushing to free himself. You glanced down, eyes widening as he came into view, thick and curving up toward his stomach. He looked as big as he’d felt. You moved to help him remove his pants fully, but his hand quickly moved to still your wrist.
“I meant what I said, it’s been quite a few stands since I’ve indulged in pleasures of the flesh. Next time, perhaps, I will properly show my affections for you, however at present moment I fear I will reach my end by the time I have properly disrobed.”
Your hand cupped his cheek as you nodded, biting your lip as Ezra moved to settle between your spread legs. Your thighs moved to frame his hips as he positioned himself at your opening. He once again leaned his forehead against yours, locking eyes with you, and began to enter you.
The stretch was immediate and overwhelming. You thought he may have hurt you, had you not been so primed. His mouth hung open, eyes trained on yours until he reached your end and rolled them backward. You were split open on his cock, you had never felt so full, the sensations an incredible ache of indescribable pleasure. You involuntarily twitched around him and Ezra groaned and panted, seemingly overwhelmed in his own right.
“I have never…..in all my years. Felt something….as fucking heavenly…..” He drew back, the drag of him forcing your stretched lips to cling to him obscenely. The drag made you drunk on him, you growled and sank your teeth into his shoulder. The sound of him advancing on you once more, meeting your tight resistance and pushing through, was charging the air around you. Electric. He angled his hips downward and stars, he found that spot again, and you could tell he was losing control, he raked your shirt up around your neck and pawed desperately at your breasts and he leaned forward and sighed your name.
His thumb notched between your lips as you gasped his name back at him.
“....fuck…”
He angled his hips back once more, and his next thrust was sudden and unexpected and hard , you cried out after gulping in air and he wasn’t stopping, he drove into you and into that spot over and over and over and you felt the tears streaming down your face. You were sobbing brokenly, you had never felt so powerless over the feel of him breaking you, tearing you apart in a way you never imagined existed. The world did not exist, pain and hurt and suffering did not exist, it was just you and Ezra in this universe, every thrust and gasp a prayer of thanks to whatever God existed that allowed this to happen, allowed you to feel like this. You had lost the power of speech, you could only cry and whimper and gasp, broken with pleasure. Ezra’s rhythm began to falter. He placed his hand around your neck and growled between clenched teeth.
“Let the whole of the Green hear you, how I mark you deep enough to make you mine for the rest of your days. Let the world shake apart with the force of my love for you.”
At that, his hips stilled as his orgasm hit. The very act of him coming seemed to trigger your own release, and once again you shook and arched, but you only had the strength to gasp and whimper and sob softly and your hips jerked upward and twitched of their own volition.
He spilled into you, groaning loudly, biting at any exposed flesh he could find before collapsing onto you. You wound your arms around his neck. You remained dazed and overwhelmed by what had transpired. Your mind was blank, you were wrung out. Ezra slid to the side of you with a sigh and pressed his lips against your temple. His hand reached into your hair and he stroked his fingers in circles against your scalp. His breathing evened quickly, and for the first time since you’d landed on this cursed moon you fell into deep and dreamless sleep.
Tag list: @yespolkadotkitty, @rzrcrst, @ifimayhaveaword, @cyaredindjarin, @mstgsmy, @im-like-reallythirsty, @hellojustheretolookatmeemees, @mrpascals
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masterpost • main masterlist • taglist & faq
previously on...
Chapter 3 is finally here. Sorcerers need their shopping done, too. Beyonce/Wong platonic ship (joking)! And finally some action, more witchy stuff. Bucky whump because I have a saviour complex. Stucky cuteness moment. Some blood/gore in this chapter.
My insides clenched, seeing the yellow and blue notice taped to my door - the building manager rarely left notes, so whatever it was, it wasn't going to be good. I had managed to wind myself up into an anxious frenzy by the time I had gone inside and locked my door behind me, immediately thinking I would have to exhaust myself by turning to magic to keep a roof over my head.
For once, the news turned out to be positive: a neighbor was being evicted and turned in to the police for stealing packages. The building manager urged the tenants to report any missing items and apply for a refund when possible, apologizing for the inconvenience. I wondered what prompted this, basically unheard of in NYC, act of kindness as my altar stared at me with mocking amusement, pointing out the obvious by its mere presence.
Grinning to myself, I texted Odette - predictably, she was happy for me, happy that my protection spell had turned out strong and steady, and added a few tips of her own for my spell to stay that way. It felt like I'd grown invisible wings, those days, with all the possibilities open - and never once did I let myself entertain a thought of getting back at an enemy of the past for longer than five seconds.
Sure, it was perfectly human to consider making the cheating ex go bankrupt or make sure the college professor, that failed a couple of students each semester as a 'reality check', trips and face-plants at least once a day... I mean, who wouldn't experience a malicious sort of joy from petty revenge?
But I found my powers were best applied with a positive result in mind. My friend's cat was the first test rat- I mean, living creature I had practiced my healing spells on. The eleven year old kitty was struggling and both me and my friend loved the critter dearly - so the short, but tiring spell I performed yielded exactly the results I was expecting. Odette said something about genuine love backing up the magic, and- well, Dumbledore much?
On humans, it turned out, it wasn't nearly as simple. I didn't know what I had expected would happen after performing nothing short of a whole improv-performace type of ritual right in front of my very puzzled but hopeful friend with chronic asthma, but it wasn't the sheer exhaustion that ran bone-deep and left me bedridden for a whole day.
Odette visited my dingy apartment with her signature enormous purse full of vials she spoon-fed me and trinkets she strategically placed in and around my immediate sleeping area. "There, there," the woman patted my head as I pitifully moaned at the ear-splitting headache. "The first one is always the most challenging. After all, if it would be easy, everyone would do it."
I understood that. But at the same time, it felt unfair that no good deed went unpunished. I told Odette so, raising my voice to the best of my ability as she rummaged around my kitchen.
"Nothing in this world comes out of thin air, whatever you decide to give has to be taken from somewhere," she explained patiently. "People like us are considered hedge witches. We do solitary work and draw most of our energy from the Earth, from mother Nature. We cannot perform miracles, however, the cost of our spells are very low," I felt an immediate peak of interest at the simple yet effective explaination she gave me. "We remain mostly human. Gaia* is kind and generous to the ones who pay respect," Odette continued over the clatter of pans and pots. "There are other kinds of witches - who take from other people, who take from the dead. But taking something by force always leaves scars and taking something from the dead means bringing a piece of them back to places it should not be."
I pondered the words as Odette brought the kettle to a boil, the whistling shriek piercing through my skull like a sharp projectile. "What about Voodoo practitioners?" I couldn't hold back my curiosity.
Odette cleared her throat. "What is left of them is mostly not human. Their gifts are great but the costs are greater. They can live far, far longer than the average witch but their souls will know no peace, just like the souls of the dead they anchor to themselves over time," Odette entered the room with a bowl of tangy, creamy liquid that smelled like pumpkin soup. "We do not bestow any judgement upon our brothers and sisters but it is our duty to inform the young." She cast a pointed glance towards me, passing me the soup and a wooden spoon I didn't know I had. "This should help you recover. Take tomorrow off if needs be."
She left shortly afterwards and I hadn't much strength than to use the bathroom, wash the rune-engraved spoon and curl up in my bed, only waking up when the meager light shone over my face from the window. Sleepy and fog-tinted, the early morning NYC was damp and windy as I stuck my head out of the window to soak my sleep-heated head in the cool air.
As uneventful as the day at the café was, I still wasn't up to 100% energy-wise, but the long walk from Jeremy's to Odette's was pleasantly invigorating. I didn't find the cold autumn moisture displeasing; the small raindrops kept me awake and alert. Odette nodded in muted pleasure as I clocked in and returned the special spoon back to her. The runes on it were interesting; I had taken a picture of them for research purposes, fully intending to craft myself something similar.
"Odette has taken on an apprentice," Wong's voice had me take in several deep breaths in preparation for the inevitable fuck-fest on my patience. "She has been avoiding me. And the girl is painfully slow."
I didn't hear the answer of Wong's companion over the rustling of the boxes I was hastily shoving in their places before the Asian man's temper grew foul. More foul. Ugh. The sharp ding of the bell had me yelling a, "Just a second please, I'll be right with you," while trying to keep my tone polite.
Wong's sour face and a list of items required greeted me as I flew out of the backrooms, noticing the locked doors of Odette's office on my way out. Wong's companion stood at the far end of the store - his robes quite different from the ones I'd seen people of their kind wear, his lithe, tall figure seeming strangely familiar. I squinted my eyes at his back. "Is this all you need?" I waved the list around, increasing the volume of my voice.
The tall man turned around and I could only gape. He, in turn, also froze, the stern, unfriendly expression losing heat and giving way to perplexed wonder. "I had placed an order, for sorcerer Strange," Tony's boyfriend eyed me somewhat sheepishly under Wong's concerned gaze.
I nodded, eyeing Wong in turn, letting satisfaction nestle a warm ball in my chest. Stephen's look of displeasure had turned onto his... Colleague. By the time I finished retrieving Strange's order and packing up the items on Wong's list, the Asian man had left, leaving Stephen to sheepishly pretend to examine the books on the furthest shelf. I waved the paper bags as he took long strides towards me, his fancy, large necklace glimmering under the lights.
"So, how long have you been working here?" Sorcerer Strange asked after I told him the total.
The cash register beeped loudly, coins clattering on the desk as I counted out his change. "Some time now," I shrugged noncommittally. I felt his magnetic eyes gloss over my adornments, the star necklace, the various rings; I could practically feel him coming to his own conclusions. "Long enough for your colleague to get an attitude with me," I had to make sure he knew I would be taking no bullshit from him - or anyone else, for that matter. Odette's opinion on his kind was firm and I was heavily inclined to agree.
"Hmm, I see," Strange was equally as keen on hiding his curiosity. It was a funny thing, really, that we, being adults that we were, treated this encounter like some sort of a dirty secret. "Don't take it personally. Wong is like that with everyone," The man briefly scratched his beard with a gloved hand before pocketing his change and picking up the bags. "Except Beyoncè, maybe," the wink he threw me was positively mischievous as it caught me off-guard, giving him a fox-like appearance.
I sighed as the door shut behind him. Pretty white boys - the ultimate human disasters.
I had no time to dwell on them, however, as something - or someone, hit downtown with all the malicious intentions to wreak havoc on the innocent civilians calmly going about their day. Mutants and people who knew Odette came in hordes, scrapes and bruises and strange wounds that required imminent healing.
My boss was no rookie, she dutifully accepted each and every single soul, looking worse for wear with each minute. Not being able to withstand seeing her drain herself, I simply took over the simplest tasks - and she said nothing, just gave me a nod, instructed to use whatever I needed and write it down somewhere along with the name of the person who required the healing.
As the battle raged, the crowds thinned but the ones who managed to come to Odette's spouted more serious wounds, obviously a result of them fighting back. Mutants covered head to toe with coats and hats and robes, for me to swallow my shock when they undressed - horns, tails and weird skin textures were on the far end of the normal. I dutifully extracted small pieces of information from each and every person I treated.
Yes, the Avengers were winning. No, there aren't many people hurt, most of the damage is cosmetic. Yes, the villain of the week is as stupid as usual. It was like a mantra. Odette poked her head into the spare room every now and then, her eagle eyes briefly scanning over me to make sure I wasn't exterting myself.
As I applied the healing salve to a tiny, pink-skinned woman, bandaging up her hands, my boss entered and closed the door behind her, setting down on the creaky chair with a loud thud. "Just got the news, the Avengers apprehended the terrorist," she sighed long and slow. "We've done all we could, the next few days I'll be handling house calls so you'll be here on your own. I'll probably see you in a few days, don't hesitate to give me a call if something comes up," Odette seemed to be barely standing up, yet when she tore off a few pieces of her jewelry and chucked them into a big tin can under the sink, the glossy sheen in her eyes melted away.
"Okay," I mumbled under the watchful eyes of the mutant woman. "Will there be more people coming in today?"
"No," the woman in front of me snorted. "SHIELD is prowling the streets. They are not fond of us, they always say we intervene unnecessarily even though we willingly do their dirty work so our children could be safe," the bitter, harsh tone took me off-guard.
I had to admit, there was reason behind her words. "Will you be able to get home safely? I have a puffy coat and a hat you can borrow." Figuring an expensive taxi ride would be a better alternative to something terrible happening to the woman, I offered her my winter clothes.
She smiled at me, razor blade teeth and large, red eyes the kindest I'd ever seen on a person. In the end, she took the clothes, promising to bring them back in a few days and Odette gave me a parka that was too small for her frame - despite it smelling like someone's grandma's attic, I found it to be quite lovely vintage. The puffy knitted scarf she added felt like warmth and safety - she had to have knitted it herself, for I knew, handmade items carried a significant amount of energy in them.
The shop was eerily quiet as I cleaned and scrubbed the stained, dirty floors and disposed of the bloody clothes and bandages in the tiny, odd fireplace in Odette's office - that was a thing most peculiar, it burned everything I put in it, but had no chimney, no place for the smoke to exit. Magic.
Something banged loudly against the entrance door. I let out a startled shriek, broomstick falling out of my hand and adding to the sudden cacophony of noise as the figure behind the stained glass slowly slid down the door, a deep, male voice groaning something incomprehensible loud enough for me to hear.
Grabbing a large serrated knife we used for mincing the bones of small animals, I made quiet steps towards the door, seeing a large, obviously humanoid figure helplessly lean on the door. The man's arm glinted chrome black and gunmetal grey in the low light. "Sargent Barnes? Bucky?" I whisper-shouted, carefully plying open the door.
He lifted his head, blood dripping down from it, his face looked like someone went to town on it with a meat mullet, his eyes were unfocused and couldn't keep a straight line. His flesh arm leaned heavily on the door frame, the prosthetic hanging limply, dragging his whole body to its side. It must've weigh a ton.
"Я должен найти капитана Роджерса," he whispered.
I didn't understand Russian at all but I could make out the name of his boyfriend. Which made sense. Bucky looked severely concussed - I idly wondered what exactly they had been fighting, what could have given a freaking super-soldier such a brain-leaking injury. "Sargent Barnes, follow me," I put on my big girl shoes and used my momma bear voice, towing the man behind me.
He, too, weighed a ton, as I stumbled, helping him into the chair in the spare room that became my healing station for today. The longer I looked at Bucky, the less lucid he grew, eyes falling shut as he murmured something in jagged Russian, slurring his words.
There was no time to think about the consequences of exposure of my witchcraft; mortar and pestle, herbs and salves flying everywhere, I assembled a healing spell and memorized the according ritual in what felt like record time. He was bleeding all over the chair, fresh crimson blood pouring out of his nose and mouth and it was all I could see.
I hadn't known true terror until the blood that poured out turned black. Whatever it was in him, it was poisonous - my protection charms grew hot, scalding as they left marks on my skin; powering through the pain and unable to turn my eyes off the convulsing Barnes, I finished the chant just as the flow of vile, tar-like liquid suddenly ceased. It pooled around his feet, dripped down the armrests and matted his long hair. It reeked, too, of copper and putrid meat.
Bucky had passed out somewhere mid-spell, the slow, steady breathing bringing me my own sense of calm. To say that I was drained would be an understatement - my vision swam and my world spun on it's axis as I unlocked Odette's office to messily rummage through a cabinet for the emergency tonic I knew she kept there. I chugged the vial, an avalanche of almost anxious, jittery energy hit me like a freight train - exactly what I needed.
I bought myself a couple hours of time. Cleaning up the sludge around Bucky's feet and removing the outer parts of his gear was easy as he remained as relaxed as a cooked spaghetti noodle. The amount of weapons he had on him was impressive, but those weren't what I was looking for - his phone. It was dead, so I plugged it in, waiting for the 5% to show and bringing it to his fingertips, hoping he used the print recognition instead of the password option... And I lucked out.
"Hello, this is Star, I found a Bucky. Tell Dr. Strange to come get him, he knows where I am." I texted the "Stevie ❤️" contact, my inner fangirl self squealing at the dorky name of his boyfriend's contact in Bucky's phone. Shortly afterwards, I went ahead and snapped a picture of myself next to sleeping Bucky, figuring out some actual proof wouldn't do any harm in this bizarre situation.
The answer didn't let me wait long. "10 minutes" came the first text, and shortly afterwards - "Is Bucky okay??????". I had to snort at the amount of question marks before honestly replying "He will be ☺️" and putting the phone back in Bucky's pocket. I cleaned up and attempted to lift Bucky up, succeeding in waking him up into a half-lucid state, probably courtesy of decades of training and whatnot, to at least drag him to the front of the store. I wasn't particularly comfortable with strangers seeing the backrooms.
Bucky leaned with his back against the counter, ass flat on the floor and a towel with a cold compress pressed to his head when the doors all but flew open, revealing Captain Rogers, still in uniform and Stephen Strange, arguing with his boyfriend, both still suited up and bloody and grimy.
"Uhh," I blinked owlishly, causing the men to stop bickering and stare first at me, then at Bucky. "I think he hit his head," I offered weakly, backing up slightly at the amount of burning eyes staring at me.
"Shortcake, that you?" Tony's eyebrows rose as he surveyed the bodega, the items on the shelves, the black and red blood stains on my previously pristine, yellow shirt.
"Now is not the time, Tony. Go with Rogers, make sure the medical is prepared for Barnes and disable his arm," Strange barked out authoritatively, shooting me a puzzled but compassionate look. "The portal is open. I'll talk to Star, find out what happened." He advanced towards me as Captain picked up Bucky bridal-style as tenderly as he could while making sure the compress stayed on.
"Keep that tone fo the bedroom," Tony's voice was more than displeased as he shot me and Strange a hurt look, but followed Steve into the golden circle right outside the door before it sparked shut.
"Now, now, what happened here?" The sorcerer's voice lowered into a soothing drawl as I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. My shoulders sagged, fingers twitching with anxious energy. The man extended a gloved hand, briefly squeezing my shoulder. "It's alright, take your time."
Damn, did I look that bad?
Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites
#bun writes#practical alchemy#tony stark x reader x stephen strange#tony stark x reader#Stephen Strange x reader
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Alpha mine
Summary: A bad blind date, you not being a prostitute and hurt balls. What can go possibly wrong?
Request: Can I have Alpha Dean? I don’t have a specific idea. I just want Alpha Dean and some angst. Maybe smut too. Happy ending please.
Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader
A/N: This is an AU setting.
Warnings: language, arguments, smut, unprotected sex, knotting, claiming, true mates, blood, use of handcuffs, hurt testicles (it’s painful, poor Dean), awful names for balls/a dick, fun, crack!fickish, mentions of medical eximinations, A/B/O
Sequel to: Omega for rent
“I am going to knot you good…god…” Dean needs to stop walking as the pain in his groin becomes unbearable. “I think you made sure I’ll be…” Choking Dean has the feeling his stomach fights the breakfast.
“What’s wrong?” Walking out of your bedroom you must watch Dean whine again. He keels over, curls up in a fetal position as you kneel next to him. “Dean?”
“My balls feel like the little pup-producers are bruised.” You want to hold back a chuckle but seeing the tall alpha whimper and curse at the same time let little snorts escape your lips.
“Sorry. I’ll help you, Dean.”
Carefully helping Dean to get up you take small steps to help him sit on your bed. He hisses in pain, whining again as you help him lie onto your pillow.
“Okay. I’ll help you out of these tight slacks. I think your balls need more space. Hang free and all…” Giggling at your words you hold back the snorts.
“That’s not funny.” Dean grunts. “I wanted to knot you…”
Ignoring Dean’s words, you remove his shoes. “Breathe slow and even. I will open your pants now and try to be as careful as possible. Just relax.” A smirk on your lips you unbuckle his belt.
“I won’t kick you again, alpha.”
“You ruined my dick…” Watching you drag his pants and boxers down Dean gasps as he sees a tiny bruise at his left testicle.
“Oh—crap! You ruined leftie!” Now you cannot hold back the snort as you have a close look at his balls.
“Dean, that’s a fuzz.” With skilled fingers, you removed the fuzz and the tall alpha sighs. “Looks good to me. I suggest you lie flat on your back, cover your body with the blanket and I’ll bring you water. We need to replenish your fluids.”
Dean eyes you warily, not trusting you at all. “You want to make little Dean fall off. I know it.” Eyes narrowed Dean looks around your room. “I’ll sue you if I lose my dick!”
Giggling you sit next to Dean to pat his chest. “I know what I am talking about, okay. “
“Why? Do you kick a man in the groin every day? How many balls did you damage so far? You hurt leftie. I am not sure rightie will forgive you.” Lips pressed into a hint line you try to suppress the giggle bubbling up, but you can stop it.
Pressing your face into Dean’s neck you peck his mating gland before you burst into laughter.
“Honestly, you are the second guy - no wait the third. The first was a boy in high school. He tried to grab my tit and I kicked him.”
“That’s justified…” Humming you check on his balls. “What are you doing? Do you want to ruin me some more?”
“I am checking on your balls, now be silent. I said that I know what I am doing. That’s my job after all.” Dean’s eyes narrow again as you look at his crotch.
“You have a thing for my balls…” While you try to cover Dean with a blanket, he’s busy giving you one of his cocky smirks.
“I am a proctologist, Dean. Now let me…” Dean shoves your hands away, shaking his head furiously as you try to help him.
“You are one of the guys shoving a finger into a guy’s ass?” Face pale Dean clutches, the blanket to his chest to protect his anus for dear life.
“We are not doing this all day, Winchester. Now let me get you something to drink and some painkillers. Relax. I won’t kill you, idiot.”
“How can you do a job like that? I mean…” Choking on his words Dean scratches his head. “…Why did you choose a job which includes poking a guy’s ass!”
“Dean, we do not slide a finger into your ass to have fun. It’s a needed examination to check on your well…anus…” Not convinced Dean scrunches up his nose. “I know men do not like it, but we save lives.”
“By fingering my ass?” Throwing your hands up in surrender you take a deep breath. “Cancer, Dean. We do this to help people. Do you believe I like poking my finger into random guys assholes?”
“I do not know you long enough to answer your question.” This time Dean needs to hold back a chuckle. “You look like a kinky chick.”
“Gosh, you are one of those idiots making fun of my job. I chose it as my dad died of cancer. If he would have gone to see a proctologist before the pain became unbearable he could be still alive. Now shut up and let me help you…”
Grumbling you storm into the bathroom to wash your hands and get painkillers for the annoying alpha on your bed.
“I…I am sorry, Sweetheart. Uh—it’s just.” Chortling Dean bites his finger. “Imagining you shove a finger into my ass…”
“Did you forget my name again?” Poking your head into the bedroom you give Dean a dirty look. “Winchester?”
“Y/N. Your name is Y/N and I’d like to knot you again, even though you hurt leftie…”
“You’re unbelievable, Dean. One minute you whine about your hurt balls and the next moment you want to knot me. Hell, you are a rollercoaster of nonsense…”
“You forgot charming! I am adorable and charming!” Dean insists as you place the painkillers onto the nightstand.
“I will not encourage you, Winchester. Now stop wiggling your naked ass on my silky sheets.” Leaving your bedroom, you hear Dean purr into your direction. “Won’t get you any…”
“You will fall for me sooner or later.” Laughing you shake your head as you walk back toward the bedroom. Food, water, and a sports drink in your hands you watch him rummage in your drawer.
“Uh-huh! Dirty girl, kinky too.” Holding handcuffs, a vibrator and lube in his hands Dean looks like the cat that got the cream. “You will not need that tiny thing any longer, but we can keep the handcuffs and lube.”
“Can you not make fun for a few minutes? You need to drink a lot, take some painkillers and then we will have lunch.” Lower lip trapped between his teeth Dean looks at the food on the tray.
You warmed up some Chinese leftovers and he can barely hide the rumble of his empty stomach.
“You know how to get the guy. Naughty sex, perfect scent, and food. You want to bribe me…” You would roll your eyes, but Dean looks up at you, a soft smile on his lips and you remain silent.
“Drink, Dean and then give me a break.” Humming Dean gulps down the sports drink, not taking his eyes off you as he follows your advice. “I hope your balls feel better soon…”
It’s a restless evening as Dean didn’t stop to hit on you. Followed by a restless night as he tries to rut his aching crotch against your ass, whining as it still hurts.
“Dean, give up. I am tired and tomorrow is Sunday. I want to sleep without an alpha keeping me awake.” Not giving up Dean ruts closer to you, rubbing his cock against your ass, ignoring the pain.
“Want you…”
“You’re a needy bastard, Winchester. If you stop keeping me awake, I let you knot me when you are better. Now let me sleep.”
Dean’s arms wrap around you as he is nuzzling his nose into your neck, but he stops to rut his cock against your ass.
“What’s that green rubbish?” Shoving the broccoli off his plate Dean retches as he spits parts of the healthy vegetable into his napkin.
He is residing on your couch, two pillows stuffed behind his back, feet propped onto your couch he watches you narrow your eyes.
“Winchester! I do not believe you one bit that your balls are still hurting! I know you are lying to get my attention. Needy bastard.” Humming to himself Dean looks at the food you cooked for him.
“You are taking good care of me.” Dean’s voice is barely above a whisper when he looks at you. “I’ve missed someone taking care of me.”
“Dean, we barely know each other. All we know are certain body parts. You can’t occupy my apartment for longer than needed.” Your fingers slide through his hair and you need to hold back a purr as he sighs every time you touch him.
“I…I don’t want to leave you…”
“How about a deal, Dean. Playing with his short locks you press a soft kiss to his ear shell.
“If you can walk, you can knot me, Winchester. You can stay till tomorrow morning and then we will see where this will lead us to…” Dean’s eyes darken, and you feel his hand cup your tit as he smirks up at you.
He’s wild, loud and full Alpha again.
Your face pressed into the cushions; hands restraint behind your back with your handcuffs you can only take what the man you barely know offers.
“Such a good girl now…” Purring the words Dean smirks as he can feel your slick cover his dick with every thrust. “I could fuck you for days.”
“How’s leftie?” Giggles leave your lips, but Dean does not seem to care. While you try to push back onto him, he grips your cuffed wrists.
His brows are knit together as he watches his cock disappear inside of your slit. He can read your body; can sense you are close to your high.
“You feel perfect around me, Sweetheart. I think…” Pushing against your shoulders Dean causes your body to fall flat onto your mattress.
Helpless you wiggle against him as he holds you down with his weight.
“Dean…I want to cum.” You would scratch or bite him, even kick the cocky alpha again but the handcuffs around your wrists and his hands holding you down, bending you to his will, make you immobile.
“Sweet, so sweet for me…” His tongue slides over your mating gland and you shiver, knowing what Dean is up to. “Going to make you mine.”
Before you can give him a snarky comment his hips start moving again and your body gives in. Walls clenching tightly around him, sucking greedily at his thick length you can feel his teeth sink into your neck.
“Fucking asshole…” Dean does not care about your insults or that his orgasm hits him hard.
He will not let go of your neck, even holds you down to mark you as his omega.
“At least you can fuck like a stallion…”
“Love the way you say, ‘I love you’.” Dean grins before his tongue soothes the light sting. “The wound is already closing, Omega. Looks good on you. Perfect bite mark.”
“I guess this means your cute alpha ass is all mine now, including leftie and rightie. Now release my wrists and let me have a look at the mark. I dare you if you ruined my look.”
“It will heal completely and looks good at your neck.” Dean cannot take his eyes off the mark, wants you to not put a band-aid on it but you slap his hands away.
“Let me put a sterile band-aid on it before I kick your balls.” He is looking at his mark one last time. “Barely any blood. Did you do this more than once?”
“No…I swear, Y/N. You’re my first…” Your hand slides over his naked chest and you look up at Dean, a dirty grin on your lips. “I was your first, lover boy?”
“That is not what I meant, Omega. Now be good and behave.” Face straight, eyes focused on the mark at your neck Dean tries to play the dominant alpha, but you simply pat his cheek.
“Oh, sweet alpha. I think there was a failure in our communications from the beginning. It’s more that you alpha are mine now…” Amused Dean drops the towel around his waist, gives you a dirty grin before he steps closer.
“All yours, Y/N. Now - where do you want me?”
Tags in reblogs.
#alpha mine#sequel to omega for rent#alpha!dean#alpha!dean winchester#alpha!dean x reader#alpha!dean x omega!reader#alpha!dean x omegareader#dean winchester#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x you#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester SPN#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean x you#abo#abo dynamics
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The Frog Princess. Chapter 6
She had no wish to be bound down to anyone, but Y/N none the less found herself being dragged across the continent; to marry King Foltest of Temeria.
Instead of pomp and spectacle; she was accompanied by the witcher, Geralt of Rivia. Their travels would bring both monsters, lust, love; and heartache. All sound tracked by an endearing buffoon of a bard, named Jaskier.
TW: Violence, language, sexual themes. Rated M.
6
The rooster that woke me up, was a real one. Sunlight was slipping in through the shutters; and lighting up the face of the man lying naked next to me – his arm draped over my chest.
We looked at each other for a long time without a word. I knew the situation should be awkward – our circumstance being as it was – but in that moment, it wasn’t.
His amber eyes were warm; nothing like the cold, heartless eyes I’d seen earlier. I lost myself in his gaze; and smiled.
I ran a finger down the side of his face; from the soft skin on his temple, over the stubble on his cheek, and he closed his eyes in pleasure.
He pulled me towards him gingerly, so that we were laid facing each other; and put his forehead to mine, exhaling with a satisfied expression. His arm was around me, and his fingers played with the hair at the back of my neck.
The fire having gone out; the room was cold; and Geralt pulled the covers over me, to shield me from it. I sighed contentedly, and he smiled at me; pulling me in for a soft kiss.
I let my fingers slide over his chest, running them through the hair there; before slipping my arm around his warm body.
Taking a hold of my thigh; he slowly slid my leg around his hip – still softly kissing my lips; occasionally letting the tip of his tongue met mine.
Our eyes met in mutual consent; and he gingerly slid inside me again – taking care not to hurt me; as I was still sore from our lovemaking the night before – we hadn’t stopped at one time, and I could see a few bruises on my arms from where he had held me pinned down on the mattress.
I gasped as he began to move.
“Do you want me to stop?”, he whispered.
I shook my head.
“Never”. He smiled softly.
His movements weren’t so much thrusts, as slow sways of his hips; as he held me against him.
His member felt velvety as he moved in and out of me; and I stroked his back lazily – closing my eyes in relaxed pleasure.
We were in a state of pure bliss in that moment. Nothing could touch us inside this little bubble we had created.
He continued to move; pulling himself on top of me – taking care not to put his full weight on me. His hands slid over my breasts; fingers tracing a purplish bruise his mouth had left there.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you”, he said; and kissed the mark.
“You didn’t”, I breathed, and stroked his cheek. “I’m all right”.
Our lips met again; brushing against each other. He ran his hand down my side; lifting my leg to lay it around his torso.
I moaned from the angle he was getting; only having made such a slight change to our position. He kept kissing me and gently excavating my core.
His pubic bone was softly pushing against my bundle of nerves as he moved; and I felt my insides beginning to clench around him.
“Geralt…”, I breathed. “I can… only once…”.
“Yes”, he whispered into my ear. “Together”.
Moving a little faster; we chased our highs together – moaning in unison.
It wasn’t the same explosion as the ones that I had felt the night before – but no less pleasurable.
It was a poof; and then a soft wave of tingling warmth spreading throughout my body.
Geralt came along with me; a quiet groan as he pushed into me one final time – his cock twitching along with his body’s jolt.
Sliding out of me; he laid back on the mattress. His hair was tussled, and I grinned at him.
“What?”, he asked.
“Now you look well and fucked”, I giggled.
He raised his eyebrows and smiled back at me.
“I am”.
There was a gentle knock on the door.
“Geralt?”, Jaskier called softly. “Are you awake?”
“Fuck”, Geralt grumbled.
I released myself from his grasp – squeezing his hand in the process – and went to get the robe I had left by the tub. The water was cold; but I used it to quickly rinse myself off from Geralts and my own juices; smiling at the memory of the moments we’d spent in it the night before.
Having put on his pants and breeches, and checked to see that I was decent – pouting playfully at the lack of skin he could see on me – Geralt unbolted and opened the door.
Jaskier stepped in, carrying a tray of assorted fruits.
“Good morning”, he chirped sweetly, like a mother to a child. He set down the tray, and sat himself on a chair by the table.
Geralt went to build a fire.
“Well, that was a party!”, Jaskier smiled. “I didn’t see much of you. Where did you go?”.
He looked from Geralt to me; to the untouched bedding on the cot by the door.
Seeing my flushed cheeks; his mouth went agape.
“Oh”. He said. “Oh! Oh, wow!”, he smiled brightly. “Well, I can’t say I didn’t see that coming”. Popping a grape into his mouth, he smirked and wiggled his brows. I ran a hand through my hair, and looked away.
“What do you want, Jaskier?”, Geralt asked.
“I wanted to make sure to see you off”, the bard answered. I sat down across the table from him; wincing slightly from the pain in my nether regions. Jaskier drew in a long breath through his teeth. “Do you need some ice, my lady?”. I threw a plum at him. He laughed in response.
“Are you not continuing on with us?”, I asked, trying to change the subject.
“Alas, I cannot”, he answered, stuffing his mouth with another three grapes. “The Baron has asked me to stay the week, and perform at the evening festivities each night. I’m charging him a good amount of coin for it”, he said proudly.
“Good for you”, Geralt said disinterestedly.
“Yes, well; I’m sure you’ll miss me very much”, Jaskier smirked at him.
He stood up and took my hand; kissing it chivalrously.
“My lady. It has been an honor”, he said. “I shall write you another ode; and if we’re lucky, I’ll be able to sing it at your wedding”.
Geralt looked as if he was ready to smash the bards face into the wall.
Another knock on the door.
“Jasky?”, a light voice tweeted.
“Coming, Cri… Clo… Cuddle cake”, Jaskier called. “I can’t remember her name”, he whispered with a shrug.
He walked up to the witcher, and patted his shoulder.
“Take care, old friend”, he said.
“Goodbye, Jaskier”, Geralt answered. “Don’t die before we meet again”.
Jaskier smiled brightly, and went out the door to join his newest conquest.
“I give it three days”, I smirked, making Geralt chuckle.
He grabbed an apple from the tray, and took a large bite of it.
“Get dressed”, he said, mouth full.
I looked him with a raised eyebrow. He swallowed the bite.
“Please?...”.
---
We set off from Tigg within an hour. Geralt had offered me to sit on Roach, but I’d declined.
“It’s probably going to be a few hours before I can straddle anything again”, I’d smirked at him; getting a grunting chuckle in response.
It was strange leaving behind the place we’d spent the night making love; and moving towards the place he was to hand me over to another man. I think we both felt the awkwardness of the situation build; but once we’d left the village behind us, and were out of the sight of others, Geralt took my hand; clearly trying to clear the air, somehow.
“Are we going to… do that… again?”, I asked. Suddenly I felt strangely shy.
“What do you mean?”, he smirked; looking out the corner of his eye at me.
“Fuck you, Geralt”, I sneered.
“Oh, that! Yeah, I wouldn’t mind”, he chuckled. My face reddened.
“Hels ass. I feel like a… bloody juvenile”, I snorted.
He stopped, and pulled me in to his arms.
“I don’t know what this is; but whatever it is, it feels good”. I looked up at him. “I want you to be happy; safe and content. And if it wasn’t for your soreness; I’d want to throw you against that tree over there, and screw your brains out, until you screamed in pleasure. Trust me when I say; I haven’t felt that way about someone in quite a while”. I laughed, and bit my lip.
“That fucking lip”, he growled. I raised a brow at him, and smirked. “Don’t play with fire, little frog”, he said warningly.
I got on my toes, and kissed him softly. He groaned in response.
“What did I just say?”, he said, and looked at me with mock threat in his eyes.
“Fine”, I said, and we kept moving.
We walked throughout the day, stopping once for a bite of bread; and a tender kiss.
The landscape changed again; as we moved towards the edge of forestland.
The air had a brisk chill to it; biting at my nose and cheeks. My knee was no longer in any real pain; so, I tried to keep a brisk pace, to keep myself warm.
“Eager to get to our destination?”, Geralt asked curtly.
“I’m cold”, I bit back.
“Sorry”, he said, voice softer.
I saw a patch of white flowers at the side of the road; and let go of Geralts hand to examine them.
Chamomile!, I realized, and began gently cutting their stems with my knife, to save them for future use.
I saw more plants further in to the trees, that I wanted to have a look at.
“Y/N”, Geralt called after me.
“I’m just going to look at these flowers”, I called back. “Keep your bloody breeches on… If you insist…”, I mumbled.
I found another patch of flowers – pretty pink ones – which I recognized to be oleander. I wasn’t in the habit of dabbling in poison; but if the last week had taught me anything, it was to always be prepared.
I moved on; finding both honeysuckle and mandrake.
Looking back over my shoulder, I could no longer see the road; or Geralt. I realized I was lost.
I tried to find my own tracks, thinking that I could follow them back. I didn’t want to call out for the witcher, admittedly a little ashamed about my predicament. It was swiftly becoming darker around me – the sun beginning to set.
Suddenly, someone grabbed my arm. Geralt looked at me with angry eyes.
“You’ve been gone over half an hour. I thought you were trying to run again!”, he snarled.
His words made me turn from embarrassed to enraged.
“Who says I wasn’t?”, I said.
“The honeysuckle in your satchel”, he answered.
“How did you?...”, I began; remembering his perfect sense of smell. “Of course”, I scoffed.
He dragged me back to the road; which to my embarrassment was only about 50 yards away.
“You need to stay near me”, he growled, not letting go of my arm, and snatching my satchel from me. “I can’t spend every minute of the day having to worry that you’ll suddenly wander off and get yourself in trouble!”.
“I wish you’d just ignore your duty for once, and take me somewhere else!”, I said.
“Y/N…”, Geralt said, having let go of me. “I can’t… Even if I did, I couldn’t give you what you want”.
I looked at him confused, but he seemed to take that as sadness.
“I’m sorry, little frog”, he said. “I was made for one thing. To kill. I’m not going to be able to settle down in a cabin near Kaer Trolde; shearing sheep and tending to crops”.
I stopped in my tracks – rage seeping out of every pore of my being.
“Did you completely miss the point of what I told you that night?”, I snarled. “I don’t want you to change for me. I just don’t want to…”.
“Shut up”, he said.
I slapped him hard across the face. He looked at me with a sudden indignance; which made me lift my arm, to strike him again. He caught my wrist in the air.
“Shut up, and get out of sight!”. He shoved me towards the side of the road; gesturing for me to get behind the trees that made out the edge of the forest. I instantly obeyed; recognizing the expression on his face.
Crouching behind a tree, I looked down the road from where we had been coming. A group of men on black horses were approaching.
“Halt!”, the rider at the front called out. “You! Where is the girl?”, he demanded, looking at Geralt.
“What girl?”, the witcher answered.
“Don’t play dumb. The girl you’re transporting!”.
I recognized the men as the ones who had been at Coodcoodlaks feast.
“She’s gone”, Geralt answered calmly. “She ran off. I’m searching for her myself”.
The man laughed gruffly.
“You lost the future queen of Temeria? Even a witcher can’t be that stupid”, he sneered. “Or is it that you take me for a fool?”, he added.
Geralt smirked.
“You brought only 4 men for a fight with a witcher. That seems foolish”.
The man got off his horse; his men following his lead. They all drew their swords.
“Don’t tempt me, mutant”.
I saw Geralts face contract into anger, and held my breath.
“You should have just told me, if you wanted to dance”, he said.
The man put his blade to Geralts throat; making the witcher lean back slightly.
“Where. Is. She?”, the man said asked again.
Geralt bared his teeth in a sneer – his expression terrifying.
“She ran away”, he repeated. “Which is something you should do as well”.
The man let out an angry grunt, pulled back his sword; and went to join his men at the horses.
“Don’t walk away angry; just walk away”, Geralt called after him.
Suddenly I felt something cold and sharp against my neck. Someone put their arm around my waist; pulling me against them.
“Hello there”, someone whispered in my ear. I could feel his hot breath and spittle against my neck. It smelled rancid.
He dragged me from my hiding place; his blade making it clear that I shouldn’t struggle. I couldn’t help myself though; and tried to jostle myself out of his grasp. His knife nicked at the skin on my neck; and I felt a tiny trickle of blood from the wound, running down my collarbone.
My captor dragged me onto the road; and shoved me towards the man who had been threatening Geralt. He grabbed a hold of me with a laugh; holding me close to his chest.
“There she is, the whore”, the man sneered. “Don’t worry, witcher. We’ll bring her to our master. I’m sure he’ll bring her to good use”.
“I’m…”, I tried, “…my name is… Zaba. I’m an herbalist. I don’t know who this man is”.
“Sure you are, my lady”, the man growled into my ear. “What’s in the satchel? The crown jewels?”.
Geralt drew his sword.
“Let her go”, he snarled; his eyes almost black – not from any draughts, but from pure rage.
The men around us drew their own weapons; and their leader kept me held against him; turning me, so my back was to his chest.
“No. No, I don’t think so”, he chuckled; and let his hand travel to my breast, taking a hold of it – testing its firmness. “Come to think of it, maybe I’ll have a go at her myself”.
Geralt took a fighting stance, and then jumped forward with a brutal slash, hitting one of the men across the torso. He fell to the ground with a scream; and I could see his guts spilling from his stomach. One of his companions instantly vomited at the sight.
The men sprang at the witcher; but had not counted for his speed. Even the man holding me seemed surprised; which gave me the chance I needed.
I threw my head back – hitting his nose – and then slipped the sgian-dubh out of my boot, and spun around; stabbing him in the side.
The man squealed like a stung pig; and stumbled backwards. I drew my knife back; and turned towards the fighting behind me.
Geralt was effortlessly avoiding the slashes of his opponents swords; slashing at one mans shoulder, and hitting another on the back of his knee, making him unable to stand.
At this point, three men were dead or dying; and Geralt grabbed the throat of a fourth one; lifting him into the air, and lowering him onto his sword – killing him instantly in the process.
The witcher ran towards me and the leader laying on the ground. The man was bleeding out, color gone from his face.
My first captor sprang onto his horse, and made to ride off.
“Tell O’Dimm the witcher has her!...”, the man on the ground cried out; before Geralts sword pushed through his neck; making any other words disappear into a rattle.
The rider kicked at his horse, and quickly disappeared into the forest.
I looked down at the dead man at my feet.
“I killed him…”, I said below my breath.
“No. I killed him”, Geralt said gruffly, and pulled back his sword. “We have to get out of here”.
He examined the horses the dead men had arrived on; and apparently being satisfied with the build of one of them, he took my satchel, and fastened it to the black stallion.
“Come on”, he said.
I was frozen in place; looking at my bloody hands; breathing superficially.
Geralt put his hands on either side of my face, forcing me to look into his eyes.
“Y/N, these weren’t soldiers, but they were Nilfgaardian. They came here to take you to their master – Gaunter O’Dimm, I suspect. Whatever he has planned for you is not good”. He raised his eyebrows, boring into my eyes. “I killed them. They’re dead. It was bloody; you saw it happen, and you took part in the fighting yourself. This is real. And I need you to move past that; get on that horse, and follow me out of here”.
I shook myself.
“Yes”, I said. Geralt nodded, and led me to the horse; quickly depositing me on its back. Kicking at the corpse of the man that had held me, he then took the mans sword, and fastened it to my saddle.
We rode through the night, putting as many miles between us and the battleground as possible.
---
As the sun began to rise, we arrived at a lake. Geralt helped me off my horse. He gently slid his thumb over the cut on my neck, and grunted.
“You can wash up. I’ll find us something to eat”. He went to get his things; but I grabbed his hand, stopping him. He put his hand on my cheek. “I’ll be close”, he smiled reassuringly.
I walked down to the edge of the water. Meeting my own eyes in the reflection, I didn’t recognize the woman looking back at me. Geralt dealt the finishing blow… but I killed him, I thought. I killed a man… a man that was going to do very bad things to me if I didn’t… and he’s dead now. Because of me.
The thought didn’t make me as distraught as I thought it would. I should be screaming and feeling like a murderer – but in reality; I felt nothing but indifference. I’d done what I had to, to survive. I felt strangely… satisfied.
I quickly washed my face, arms and hands; and walked back to the horses. The black stallion standing next to Roach was beautiful and strong. I blew at his muzzle, as I had with Roach’s when I’d first met her – and he responded in kind.
“You need a name, boy”, I whispered.
“Are you talking to your horse?”, Geralts gruff voice came from behind me. I turned to face him.
“Training for conversations with you, I suppose”.
He grunted with a smile.
He was carrying a dead hare by its ears, and slit his knife down its front, beginning to skin it. I winced at the sight.
“You just saw 5 men killed brutally; but can’t stomach a hare being prepared for a meal?”, he chuckled.
“I’ve just seen enough blood for a while”, I answered.
I went to build a fire, as Geralt continued his butchery of the hare. The flames were a welcome sight, after having ridden through the cold night.
Putting the meat on a stick over the fire; Geralt looked at me with enquiring eyes.
“You like animals?”, he asked.
“No more than anyone else, I guess”, I answered.
“But you know how to speak to them”, he said.
I sighed, and considered his words.
“I eat their meat; wear their skins; and ride their backs. It’s only fair to treat them with respect; if I expect for them to serve me like that”.
He chuckled at my response, and handed me a piece of the meat to eat. It was sweet and gamey.
“But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”, he said, between bites.
“What do you mean?”.
“The cat. How you talk to the horses. I’ve never seen anyone interact that way with animals”.
I looked at him challengingly.
“Ask”, I said, as he had to me those nights before. “You want to”.
He laughed, and narrowed his eyes.
“You’re playing with things you shouldn’t, little frog”, he said. “Magic isn’t for humans”.
I laughed at him.
“Not everything is magic, witcher”, I said. “Sometimes it’s just two creatures meeting, and reacting”.
He exhaled with a grunt.
“Are you unhappy with my answer?”, I asked teasingly.
He looked into the fire.
“I think there is more to you than you're telling me”, he grumbled.
“Maybe”, I said. “But if there is, I don’t know”.
He nodded.
We went to wash our bowls in the lake. The morning sun was shining orange across the sky.
“Do you usually hit your lovers?”, the witcher asked out of nowhere. I looked at him questioningly. He gestured at a scratch on his cheek, that I’d apparently left there when I slapped him.
I smirked.
“Only the ones who ask for it”.
He made a scoffing laugh.
“You missed a spot”, I smiled.
“Where?”, he said, looking down at his bowl.
“There”, I said; took a handful of water, and threw it at his face.
I laughed heartily – until I saw his expression. It wasn’t angry, but it was menacing. He wiped his face, and snarled.
I threw my bowl on the ground, and ran.
“Hurry, little frog!”, he growled after me.
Laughing, I sped towards the trees; him fast at my heels.
“Does water make witchers melt, like it does witches?”, I giggled, and looked back towards him.
He was gone. My heart was in my throat, and a tingle spread through my body in anticipation. I couldn’t see him anywhere.
I spun around, and he appeared in front of me; grabbing me around my waist with one arm.
“I don’t know; do witches melt?”, he said, and emptied his bowl – filled with water – over my head.
I yelped, and struggled to get away from him. I could feel his hardness against my stomach, and my breath hitched. Biting my lip; I smirked at him.
“Fire…”, he growled; and grabbed my mouth in a violent kiss, leaving me breathless and panting.
“There are plenty of trees around”, I moaned against him; and he picked me up – pushing me against an old oak.
Everything happened fast after that. Frantically kissing and panting; he pulled up my skirts; and put his large hand between my legs – earning a desperate mewl from me.
“Mmhmm…”, he groaned; excavating my folds, and sliding two fingers into me.
“No bath to confuse your wetness this time”, he growled into my mouth, as he kept kissing me.
His fingers hooked, and his palm rubbed against my nub; quickly drawing me closer to my undoing.
I was desperately trying to keep my composure; but quickly had to accept the fact that I was coming violently on his hand. He chuckled menacingly at me.
“Only once isn’t going to be enough this time”, he said; pulling out his fingers, and tasting my juices on them. “Mmmhmm…”, he smirked.
I was still seeing starts as he was beginning to undo the buttons on his breeches; one knee between my knees to keep me from moving.
I managed to push him away; meeting his confused eyes with a teasing smile. I turned him around; and pushed him against the tree; kneeling down in front of him.
Looking up at him, his expression had turned primal; the pupil in his amber eyes blown.
I finished the task he had started on his breeches; and reached down into his pants, taking a hold of his hardness – relishing in the soft skin covering the rod-like firmness underneath it.
I tasted the salty precum with the tip of my tongue; and closed my eyes, smiling. I gently cupped his testicles; and folded his penis against his stomach; tracing my tongue from the base to the head of it.
Geralt gasped, and put his hand on my head; sliding his fingers into my hair.
“Y/N”, he sighed.
Giving his balls a soft squeeze; I slid my lips around the head and sucked at it, before moving my head towards the base; massaging it with my tongue all the way.
Geralt let out another gasp; and I released him from my mouth, smiling up at him.
“I think I found your weakness, witcher”, I whispered; letting my index finger find the soft skin just behind his testes, stroking it. I pumped his cock, and licked the tip again.
“Princess…”, he moaned. I gave his member a firm squeeze, and frowned up at him; removing my tongue from where it had been.
Chiding him with my eyes, he smiled apologetically.
“Sorry”, he breathed.
“Better”, I smiled; and slid him into my mouth again; going as deep as I could without choking.
I kept massaging his balls, and hummed softly as I bobbed my head back and forth. He tasted better than any treat I’d had before.
Before long I felt the precious jewels in my hand tighten; and Geralts voice became strained in his moaning. He grabbed tightly at my hair, and cried out – before coming in my mouth. Pulling him out, I looked him in the eyes; swallowed; and smiled.
He stroked my cheek, and looked at me in wonder. In front of my face, his still hard member was twitching; and I gave it a final lick at its head – like it was a delicious sweetie on a stick.
“Fuck”, he groaned at me, looking on in amazement.
I stood up; straightened my skirts and smiled again.
“That was lovely”, I said sweetly, and went to walk back to the horses.
“Not finished!”, he snarled; picked me up; and slammed me against the tree-trunk again.
I gasped in shock.
“Again?”, I squeaked.
“Again”, he growled; hitched my skirts back up, and sank into me with his still rock hard cock.
“Remember what I said?”, he breathed into my ear.
I nodded; digging my fingers into his jerkin, holding on to him as he thrusted.
“Screaming in pleasure, little frog”.
“Do your best, wolf!”, I panted.
Having held on to only one of my legs; he now lifted the other one from the ground; and was now carrying my weight, as he continuously hammered into my core.
The familiar tingling returned; turning in to a pulsating warmth; before finally exploding – as I began throbbing around his length.
And then I did as he’d said. I screamed in pleasure.
---
Thanks for reading.
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- no lady
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#geralt of rivia#geralt of rivia x reader#the witcher#the witcher netflix#the witcher fic#jaskier#geralt of rivia smut
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omg enemies who are sinning and yearning for each other I haven’t even read it yet but like RIP ME OMFG 🥺🥵
They’re so different too though. It’s fun to write.
DTTW:
“Shh. Stay quiet.”
Lexa’s eyes are wide and dark, just visible peeking up above the hand Clarke has wrapped around her mouth.
“They can’t see us,” whispers Clarke, shoving her hand down Lexa’s pants again. They both exhale an unsteady breath when her fingertips glide along velvet folds before probing into wet heat. “But they can hear us. So be very, very quiet. Do you think you can do that for me, baby?” Lexa’s eyes roll and flutter shut. Clarke doesn’t know if it’s at the pet name or the way she’s touching her, but it pulls an ache deep in the pit of her stomach regardless.
“Does it worry you?” she whispers, teeth tugging on one delicate earlobe. “Knowing how risky this is? If I lose focus for one second, I could drop my shield. I could make us visible again. Everyone could see us here, see me fucking you.” She leans in even closer, breasts pressing into Lexa’s, dragging her wet fingers up to pinch at Lexa’s clit, pulling a strangled whimper from her throat. “They could see how desperate you are to come. How wet you get for me.”
“Clarke,” whimpers Lexa, hips bucking. Clarke pushes them down with her own hips, pinning Lexa against the brick wall.
“Shh, baby. Do you want them to hear you?” She stops rubbing her clit, making a lazy trail back down to push two fingers into Lexa with an unmistakable wet slurp. Clarke relishes it, wordlessly pumping her fingers for a moment just to listen to the proof. “Fuck, can you hear that?” Lexa barely has the wherewithal to nod, her head tipped back against the wall and her eyes squeezed tightly shut. “God. That makes me so wet.” Lexa shivers, whether at Clarke’s husky tone or the way she bites her ear again, or maybe both. “I want you in my mouth. I want to drop to my knees right now and taste you. I want to eat your pussy until you’re screaming so hard they can hear you from fifth street.”
“Fuck.” Lexa gasps, brow furrowing and mouth dropping open as her hips buck again. Her chest rises and falls heavily as she pants.
“Don’t make me gag you,” Clarke warns her. Still, the way she skims her mouth down the underside of Lexa’s jaw isn’t urgent. She sucks bruises over the veins bulging in Lexa’s neck, down the strained column of her throat, across sharp collarbones and above tantalizing cleavage. Clarke has certainly developed a healthy appreciation of Lexa wearing an open coat. She hums in satisfaction against her flushed skin, reaching up with her right hand to wrench her shirt and bra down, shoving the coat half off one shoulder to push the strap of her bra down with it, and gives no warning before she dips her head to close her lips over a soft nipple that quickly hardens against her tongue. Lexa’s gasp bites off into a moan as she writhes against her.
Vs HEWM:
“Run away with me.”
Lexa’s smile is sad, soft, and does not reach her eyes. “We have a duty to our people, Clarke.”
“I think we have a duty to love, do we not?”
“If the world was based on love, I imagine we would all live very different lives.”
Clarke looked at her curiously, propping herself up on her elbow. “What life do you imagine you would live?”
Lexa is silent for a moment, but Clarke can see the gears in her head turning, contemplation sparkling behind thoughtful green eyes aimed at the heavens.
“I imagine to be with you,” Clarke whispers, nose trailing the line of Lexa’s jaw. “One where we can freely express ourselves without fear of reprisals. Where we have lie-ins every day, even the birds quieting outside the windows to let us sleep, before their soft songs carry us awake. Where the first thing we do is kiss and hold one another. We stroll to the markets hand in hand, buy ourselves a small breakfast we eat as we wander the stalls, and I could kiss you in plain view of everyone, taste the sugared crystals clinging to your lips and naught a soul even spares us a second look. We spend the warmth of the afternoon beneath our tree, and I…” She cannot bear the intensity of Lexa’s soft gaze any longer as she lowers her voice to utter her next words; looks down at the traitorous tremble in her hands as she smooths her fingertips along the curve of Lexa’s neck, feels her pulse quickens as she says, “I am free to spend hours kissing you, and...touching you, wherever you please.”
Her fingers dip as Lexa swallows, her throat bobbing. Clarke ignores the flush of her own face, focusing instead on how Lexa’s skin seems to warm beneath her hand.
Her breath catches in her throat when Lexa suddenly reaches up and grasps her arm, slender fingers encircling Clarke’s wrist, and guides her hand lower. Clarke struggles to maintain steady breaths as Lexa places her hand on her chest, so dangerously close to her breast, palm pressed above her heart, and then tips her head up to capture her lips.
“You are the reason it beats,” Lexa murmurs between slow, gentle kisses. “I am so filled with you.”
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December 12 - Part 4
Guys this part is ridiculously long and I am so sorry. I never meant to drag this out for this long and I just wanted to get it done. It’s important to the plot but I will be glad to get back to soft fluff. Anyway, hope you can enjoy this long ass read!
The spirits must have been on their side that day, for the impact of the Slime didn’t kill them outright. There was time to cut them free, and then he could hopefully use a warp totem to get them all out before the mine came crashing down upon their heads.
‘Just stay calm. You’ve trained with Marlon, you can do this.’
He held his sword aloft before him, then dashed in and cleaved the slime in two. Thus divided, it split into two smaller but still large slimes—Sam and Abigail were trapped in one, Sebastian in the other.
From the split also came several much smaller blobs, which eagerly latched onto Ashe’s legs in their fervent attempts to hug him. The more he cut the big one, the more smaller ones popped out and clung to him. In seconds, he had dozens of them weighing down his limbs; he couldn’t even move.
“No, please—let go!” He was begging, desperate, and he didn’t care. “Please!!!”
His friends were just one cut away from freedom, and they were just out of his reach. The quaking was unbelievable, and with the weight of the little slimes on his body he lost his balance and fell to his hands and knees.
And then came forth dozens of monsters from deeper within the mine; it was seconds that felt like minutes later that he was deafened by the sound of the ceiling and walls collapsing from where the monsters had fled.
A piece of the rocky walls dislodged and struck him on the back, knocking him flat down to the earth and pinning him there. The wind was knocked from his lungs, and his sword tumbled from his grip.
‘Is this it?’
It was impossible to get his breath back. The rock on his back crushed his chest more each time he tried. The larger slimes carrying his friends danced in a panic just out of his reach as more chunks of the walls and ceiling came crashing down around them.
‘I really just got us all killed by slimes... It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have ever brought them here with me.’ His head drooped, his cheek resting against the uncomfortably warm earth. For a brief moment, he could smell the forest. ‘I’m sorry guys… I’m sorry Shane... I'm sorry Mom… and Grandpa… Am I… gonna be reincarnated as a slime…?’
####
The world had gone dark, but now was swimming back into view. A clinical white ceiling greeted Ashe as he forced his heavy eyes open; his eyelids felt bruised. Actually, his entire body felt like it was just one massive bruise.
‘I’m… at the clinic?’
Gingerly, he sat up and looked around. The other beds in the recovery room bore Sebastian, Sam, and Abigail—all breathing. All alive. He sighed, relieved.
“…and that’s how I found them. Just like that.”
He heard Marlon speaking beyond the curtain dividers, and could faintly make out his silhouette along with Maru’s through them. They both spoke in hushed voices; Marlon was as composed and calm as ever, while Maru seemed to be borderline panicking.
“Thank Yoba that you did!” She wrung her hands anxiously. “Of course this happens on the one day Harvey’s not here.”
“Strange, that. He’s not one to leave town.”
“I know. But there’s a seminar being held in Zuzu City that he said he couldn’t miss.” The wringing intensified. “This is a worst-case scenario.”
“Were their injuries that severe?”
“No, somehow—bumps, cuts, scrapes, bruises, and Sebastian managed to break his foot. But I’m not—I’m only an assistant. I’m not qualified to administer any aid without Harvey present.”
“A bit late to worry about that now. Besides, you seemed to know what you were doing to me.”
“I mean—I have a basic understanding of first aid, but like I said, I’m not allowed to perform it without Harvey being here.”
Ashe’s shoulders slumped as he looked down at his lap. He’d gotten so many people involved in this mess. Gotten his friends hurt, and almost killed. Put Maru at risk of losing her job.
The curtains abruptly were tugged open, and he jumped a little.
“Oh—you’re awake!” Maru sounded relieved, though still anxious. “Thank Yoba. How do you feel?”
“Uh—f-fine,” he fibbed with a meek smile, “just fine.”
He looked to Marlon, and the smile faded. The old swordsman’s face was as stoic as it ever was, but he could see the disappointment in his eyes.
“Never thought you’d lose to a slime, of all things. I suppose there’s a first time for everything, though.”
Ouch. That stung.
Across from his bed, Sebastian began to stir, and Maru quickly rushed to her half-brother’s side. “Sebastian…?”
“Ugh…” He groaned and lightly pushed her face away. “Give me a little space, would you?”
“Oh, Sebastian!”
Without warning she flung her arms around him in a tight hug. “I was so scared! I thought you were going to die!”
“Fuck’s sake—why does everyone try to choke me—” He tried in vain to pry her off of him. “Why the hell do you care, anyway?”
“What do you mean, why do I care?!” She pulled back, an angry expression on her tearful face. “You’re my big brother, of course I’m going to care about what happens to you!”
A flicker of guilt flashed across Sebastian’s face, and he looked away. “… Half brother.”
“Oh my Y—like that matters! Geez! You could at least apologize for scaring me and mom half to death!”
“I didn’t ask you to worry ab—” He stopped mid sentence. “You told mom?”
“Well, yeah!” She curled into herself a bit. “I kinda panicked and… maybe called Jodi too. And Caroline.”
“Yoba damnit,” he rubbed his forehead, “it’s not Mom’s business what I do. It’s not any of our mom’s business.”
Maru poked her fingers together. “I know. Look, I’m sorry, but I just—panicked, like I said. Harvey’s not here, and I didn’t know what to do. Besides, they were going to find out eventually, and they’d be even more upset then.”
“Shit, our moms are gonna finish the job for the slimes.” Sam had been awake for a minute at that point, just lying there listening to things play out as he came to.
Same for Abigail, who pushed herself to sit. “Well, fat lot of good putting fake names in the logbook did,” she said in a deadpan voice. “It’s been nice knowing you guys. Any second now they’re going to come bursting in through the door.”
“Er, actually… they’re in the waiting room.”
“Great.” She looked to Sebastian and Sam. “Might as well get it over with.”
Looking somewhat apologetic, Maru stepped out to fetch their mothers. There was a heavy air hanging in the room. It was awful.
“… How did you know we were in trouble?” Ashe asked of Marlon, who was still standing off to the side.
“Rasmodius reached out to me. Apparently the Junimos asked him to help you, and he in turn asked me.”
To say it was surprising was an understatement. Ashe didn’t think that the little spirits cared all that much for him, especially not since he hadn’t done much to fulfill their requests yet—
Once again the curtains were yanked abruptly open. There stood Robin, and Jodi, and Caroline, all wearing the look of mother bears on the rampage in search of their cubs. Terrifying didn’t even begin to describe the aura radiating from them.
“What were you thinking—”
“You nearly got yourselves killed—”
“How many times have I told you how dangerous those mines are—”
Their voices all overlapped in their attempts to admonish their children. There was no doubt that they were relieved to see them alive and well—the fact that they were so incensed was proof of that.
The heavy ball of guilt weighing down Ashe’s stomach compelled him to speak above them. “It’s not their fault.” In that instant, all their heads snapped to look at him instead of their children, and memories of such reprimands by his own mother flashed in his minds’ eye. “It’s mine,” he continued, somehow managing to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. “I’m the one who brought them into the mines with me.”
“Wh—it is not your fault, Ashe,” Sam insisted emphatically.
Sebastian nodded. “We’re the ones who asked to come along.”
“And I’m the one who got us into that situation,” added Abigail. “You told us that it was dangerous.”
There was a long moment of silence—awkward, heavy, painful silence. It was broken by the sound of Harvey all but skidding into the recovery room, looking mightily disheveled and thoroughly winded.
“Dr. Harvey!” Maru was relieved, and quickly sought shelter behind him.
“Ladies—” Hastily he attempted to straighten his lopsided tie and glasses, “I understand that you are concerned for their wellbeing, but I cannot allow you to stress my patients out. Much less before I’ve been able to examine them myself.”
“How can you expect us to be calm about all of this?” Robin gestured angrily towards her son, who was lying there with a look that begged to be put out of his misery. “We’ve told them countless times how dangerous those mines are, and they still went in!”
Harvey chose his words carefully. “With all due respect… they may be your children, but they are no longer children. At some point, you have to allow them to make their own decisions. Even if they still live under your roof. If you don’t, then they will be pressured into doing things like this behind your back.” He cleared his throat. “Now, please. I need to be able to examine them myself. Maru, could you bring them back to the waiting room?”
His tone left no room for arguments, and they reluctantly followed Maru out of the recovery area and back to reception. The four in the beds were stunned.
“Uh… Thanks for sticking up for us like that,” Sam said as the doctor pulled his wheely stool over to Sebastian’s bed.
“Hm? Oh, there’s no need to thank me for that. I only did what I felt was in your best interests as my patients.” With a faint smile curling up the ends of his mustache Harvey started to examine Sebastian. “I only got a little bit of the story over the phone with Maru—what exactly happened?”
Ashe swallowed guiltily, and began to recount the misadventure to him before the others could. Harvey just listened and nodded his head, moving from examining Sebastian to setting his broken foot in a cast. For a mercy, it was a brief summary. “… and Marlon brought us here,” he finished in a soft voice, picking at the thin white blanket covering his legs. “That’s pretty much it.”
“Well,” Harvey scooted over to Sam, “we can thank Yoba that things weren’t any worse. They could very well have been.”
Ashe cast his eyes back down to his lap. “I’m sorry…”
“I didn’t say it to guilt you.” He smiled again. “Rather the opposite; there’s no need to dwell on what might have been. You’re all alive and safe now, and that’s what matters. That being said,” he swiveled around to Abigail’s bed, “it might be a good idea to stay out of the mines for the time being.”
“That won’t be an issue.” Marlon finally spoke again. “There was a massive collapse in the lower levels. Joja will want to close the mines to the public indefinitely.”
“Well there we go then.”
After a minute, it was Ashe’s turn, and he sullenly allowed Harvey to give him a thorough once-over. All he’d wanted was to fix up the community center; he didn’t want to put anyone in danger.
‘But that’s not really true. What I really wanted was something to distract myself from thinking.’ The community center was just a means to an end, an excuse. And maybe, just maybe… maybe he’d hoped something like this would have happened. Maybe he’d really hoped that one of these times he wouldn’t end up coming out of the mines.
As soon as that thought came into his mind, he physically shook it away, earning himself quite a look from Harvey. ‘That’s not true! Not even a little! I’m only thinking like this because I feel so guilty.’ He looked down at his hands resting on his lap. Abby had been right; he couldn’t keep carrying on like this. It was tearing him apart.
After a few more minutes, Harvey was satisfied that Sebastian’s broken foot was the most severe injury among the four. He still needed to set the man up with a pair of crutches and show him how to use them, but was content to let the rest filter out of the recovery area and towards reception.
“Ugh, I’m not looking forward to getting home…” Sam’s voice dripped with dread. “Even if Mom listens to what Harvey said, it’s still gonna be awkward as hell. She’s probably gonna want me to pay for my bill.”
Abigail’s face fell at the thought. “Ugh, tell me about it. And we didn’t even get to bring back anything from the mines so we don’t have anything we can sell.”
Well, there was something that Ashe could do to start repairing the damage he’d caused. With the both of them lulling behind him, he pushed the swinging doors to reception open.
The mothers’ heads popped up at the sound, and the conversation they’d been having ceased at once. There was a sort of muted look on each of their faces, and Caroline and Jodi rose to give their kids what was a much-needed hug.
“Harvey’s helping Sebastian with crutches,” Ashe said to Robin, who had gone a bit pale when she saw that her son was not among them. “And, um… I’d like to pay for everyone’s medical bills.”
Surprise flickered across the faces of everyone in the room. He could see that Sam and Abby were opening their mouths to protest his offer, and so he hastily added, “It’s the least I can do.”
“Honey, the thought is appreciated,” Caroline put her hand on his shoulder, “but the bills are already taken care of. Just please, be more careful next time.” She turned to her daughter. “Let’s go, Abigail. We have a lot we need to talk about…”
One by one Ashe watched his friends file out of the clinic with their mothers. He did his best to put on a smile and wave them off; after all, they were able to leave on their own two feet (well, Sebastian on one). That was worth smiling about, wasn’t it?
“Are you gonna be okay?” Maru asked as he turned to pay for his own bill. “To walk home, I mean.”
“Yeah,” he nodded, still managing to smile, “I’ll be fine—”
No sooner had the door swung closed behind Jodi did it swing back open. “Ashe?” panted Shane, his face red from exertion and the cold of the evening air. He was still in his Joja uniform, which was disheveled from his haste to get to the clinic from the mart.
“Shane?” Ashe’s eyes widened in surprise as he turned to face him. They only widened further as the man strode forward and folded him into a gentle hug.
“Thank fuck…” he whispered in between breaths. He was shaking. “Maru made it sound like you were on your deathbed.”
“Oh, er—” Behind the counter, Maru fidgeted guiltily. “Sorry.”
A new lump formed in Ashe’s throat, taking the place of his voice so he couldn’t speak. It hit him in that moment just how differently things could have turned out, and how happy he was to see Shane again.
“I-I…” His chin quivered, and tears began to well up in his eyes as he brought his arms up to squeeze Shane back. “I-I’m sorry…!”
####
It was a slow walk back to the farm. Shane insisted on it, wanting Ashe to take it easy despite his insistence that he was just a little sore.
“Easy, easy does it,” the older man coaxed, helping Ashe up the front stairs—it was at that point that the pain really was catching up to him, and it showed. “I’ve got you.”
“Th-thanks…”
The stairs cleared, Shane held the door open for him. It was pleasantly warm inside the farmhouse, a welcome change from the bitter cold. Mr. Blue jumped over the back of the couch to greet them as they stepped inside, wending his way through both of their legs with audible purrs.
“I think he was worried about you.” Shane carefully nudged the orange cat out from around their feet so they could make it over to the couch. “Where do you keep your medicine and shit?”
With a wince Ashe let himself be lowered onto the cushions, the pain easing up just a touch when he did. “Uh… in the kitchen. Top left drawer next to the sink.”
“Okay. Sit tight.”
Ashe watched him root around in the drawer. “What are you looking for?”
“What do you think, dweeb? I’m looking for pain killers.” Shane looked at him. “You’re hurting pretty good, and don’t even try to deny it.” His fingers closed around what he was looking for, and he brought two small tablets back to Ashe along with a glass of water. “Here.”
“Oh, uh—thank you…” Ashe popped them into his mouth and took a sip of the water to help them down. “… I, um… I’m sorry.” He mumbled into the glass.
“You already said that, you know. Three times. On the way here.” Shane sighed and shook his head. “Seriously, what am I gonna do with you?”
“… I don’t know.” Setting the glass on the end table to his left, Ashe tugged his knees up against his chest and buried his face into them.
After a moment, Shane took the cushion next to him. “Ashe, what’s really going on here?” He asked. “There’s obviously something bothering you and making you not act like yourself.”
Silence. Then, “I miss her…”
“Your mom?” He wrapped an arm around Ashe’s shoulders as the farmer gave a tiny nod of his head. “I had a feeling. Do you want to talk about it?”
“I-I do, b-but… I-I’m scared that it’s gonna mess up your recovery somehow…”
“Bud, that’s not—those two things have nothing to do with each other. Seriously. And even if they did,” he gave a gentle squeeze, mindful of Ashe’s soreness, “I’m in a place now where I can handle it. And that’s got a lot to do with you. I’m not gonna force you to talk about it if you really don’t want to, but I’m here for you. You can lean on me for this.”
More silence. “I don’t remember what that’s like…” He sniffled, trying his hardest not to start bawling again. “I-I was taking care of Mom for so long that I forgot how to rely on others.”
“She was sick, right?”
“Y-Yeah. Cancer. I ended up taking her place at Joja so she could stay on their insurance.” There was another pause as he drew a deep shuddering breath. “I-I didn’t even get to attend her funeral. My b-boss wouldn’t give me the day off for it. It was the worst way to start the year.”
“Wait, this happened on New Years? This year?”
Ashe nodded again. “I-I didn’t really… y’know, have a chance to process any of it. Work, work work. And then I remembered Grandpa’s envelope, and… I came here. It was nice, having so much to do and people to distract me from… everything. But I can’t ignore winter no matter how hard I try…”
His voice broke, and the tears that he’d been trying so hard to hold back burst forth. “I-It’s not fair! She was all I had! I was all she had! A-And I was working so much that I couldn’t even be there for her most of the time! I had to watch her waste away from a distance! And now Joja wants to take even more way from me! It’s not fair! It’s not fair!!!!”
The room became filled with his anguished sobs, and Shane gently pulled him into another hug. “It’s not, you’re right. It never is.”
For what felt like forever, Ashe cried. He cried out the feelings that he’d kept pent up over the year. And when he had no more tears left to shed, he rested against Shane, completely spent.
“Did that help at all?” Shane’s voice was low and soothing as he brushed the bangs from Ashe’s face.
“… I don’t know…”
“That’s fine. It takes time.” He held him close. “Look, if you feel like you need to cry, come and cry on me. Okay? Doesn’t matter when or where it is.”
It took a moment, but Ashe nodded. He wondered if this was what Shane felt like when he was looking out at those cliffs on that rainy day…
#stardew valley#sdv#stardew#sdv fanfiction#stardew valley fanfiction#stardew fanfiction#sdv fanfic#stardew valley fanfic#stardew fanfic#sdv fic#stardew valley fic#stardew fic#sdv shane#stardew valley shane#stardew shane#sdv farmer#stardew valley farmer#stardew farmer#tw mourning#tw grief#remind me never to write a day this long again
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Idk if you’re still accepting prompts but can you do 79 with Alastor x fem!reader?
#79 - “Fuck me like you hate me.” Pairing: Alastor x fem!ReaderWarning: VERY explicit and rough smut
He’d gone too far this time. Alastor thoroughly enjoyed pushing your buttons, and most days you could handle it, but not today.
“I’m done, Alastor. I’m so over your bullshit. You’re egotistical, selfish, and just… I hate you. I really, truly do. Just stay the hell away from me.”
It’s not that everything you were saying wasn’t true, and if you were being honest, calling attention to his shitty behavior was long overdue for the arrogant demon. So… why did you have an almost overwhelming sense of guilt as soon as the words left your mouth?
The Radio Demon peeled his lips back into a sinister smile, revealing his frighteningly jagged teeth.”My dear girl, are you truly that foolish? It is you who repeatedly seeks me out. It’s you that comes crawling back to me for companionship when you’ve seemed to abandon all hope. I am the company you seek when you lie awake at night, lonely and desperate for affection.”
You refused to budge as he moved closer, his face now only inches away from your own as his hot breath brushed over your face, his scent equally revolting and intoxicating. “There’s no harm in admitting what you already know, dearest. You cannot resist me, and you would love nothing more than to be filled by me over and over again like the hungry cock slut that you are.”
SLAP
The sound of your hand coming into contact with his face echoed throughout the room, leaving behind a haunting silence in its wake. His face had turned away from you due to the impact of your assault, and his mouth hung open in shock. All you could do was gawk at him, utterly speechless and unable to fully comprehend what you had just done.
The both of you remained still for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably no more than a few seconds. Finally, he looked toward you again, a coldness in his eyes that you had never felt before, turning your blood to ice. His lip curled, and it was only when he smiled once more that you had realized the gravity of your mistake.
“So, that’s how this is going to go, hmm?” he purred dangerously, tilting his head far enough to crack the bones in his neck. His demeanor was eerily calm, but you could still feel the intensity beneath the surface, his rage threatening to emerge at any given time. The fact that his reaction was cool and calculated had frightened you more than if he would have exploded with anger instead.
Swallowing thickly, your immediate reaction was to take a step back to create some distance between you and the unpredictable demon. However, with every cautious step you took away from him, he countered by taking an enormous stride forward. Why the fuck did he have to be so tall with such long ass legs?!
Eventually, you had reached the wall, no longer able to distance yourself. “A-Alastor… I didn’t… I--”
Before you could finish the rest of your sentence, he was on top of you, twisting you around to face away from him and pinning you up against the wall. You tried to wriggle free, but his hold on you was far too strong as he kept you in place with his body pressed against your back.
Your froze when you felt him bend slightly to run his claws up your inner thigh towards your core. When his fingers danced over your heat, your breath hitched and you fought the urge to buck into his hand.
His black and red strands of hair swept across your cheek as he leaned forward to whisper huskily into your ear, “Tell me again how much you detest me,” he demanded as his slender digits continued to tease you over your damp heat. It took all you had to resist grinding against his fingers.
“I’m pretty sure the word I used was ‘hate’, but whatever,” you barked, seething with irritation and sexual frustration. “Either way, I really fucking do.”
His hand found his way into your hair as he yanked your head back, pressing his lips hungrily against yours in a deep kiss. Overcome with lust, you reached your arm back to bring him even closer, opening your mouth to welcome his tongue as he wasted no time in kneading it against your own. Absentmindedly, your thighs began to part wider to allow the skilled demon more access to your throbbing cunt, already dripping from his actions. You really hated how easily he brought you to this state.
When he began to press his palm into you to add more pressure to your aching clit, a needy whine escaped your throat, which he swallowed down with his mouth as he continued to kiss you, chuckling at your obvious need for him.
Breaking the kiss, he flipped you back around so that you were facing him once more before he pressed his forehead against yours. His hot breath swept over your face as he panted against you, moving to finally brush the fabric of your panties aside to allow him full access. He wasted no time slipping a finger inside of you, crooking his digit into a ‘come hither’ motion, hitting your g-spot over and over again.
Clutching the front of his suit in your hands, you rolled your hips against him, eager for more. He relished in your response to his touch, smirking arrogantly. “For someone who hates me as much as you supposedly do, you’re awfully wet, my dear.”
“That doesn’t mean a-anything,” you bit back, trying to maintain your composure as he increased his speed, pumping in and out of you with vigor. “Just because you’re an entitled, n-narcissistic, self-absorbed piece of shit--oh god--doesn’t mean that you’re not also a--mnph-- somewhat decent fuck.”
He snarled at you, shoving a second finger without warning and thrusting into you with such force, you thought that he was going to break you. “I must say, it’s unbecoming to so easily succumb to the advances of someone supposedly as entitled and self-absorbed as I am. One might say that it’s actually quite pathetic, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Fuck you, Alastor.”
He laughed darkly, choking on his own breath shortly after when you moved your hands down his slender form and onto the obvious tent in his pants, palming at it eagerly while he rolled his hips against you.
“And you say I’m pathetic?” you mocked, smirking at his reaction to your touch.
He responded by shoving his fingers so forcefully deep inside of you that you could have sworn you had been lifted from the ground. You cried out in both pleasure and pain, knowing full well that you weren’t going to be able to walk right for the next few days.
Using his other hand, he made quick work of his trousers, eagerly pulling out his weeping cock. Unable to stop yourself, you reached forward, sliding up his shaft with your hand and thumbing at his slit, spreading the precum around the head. He moaned at the sensation, his jaw unhinging as he shut his eyes, his body trembling with anticipation.
“I’m going to ruin you,” he promised breathlessly before sliding his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth to suck his digits clean. You whined at the sight, earning another wave of arousal to leak out of your cunt. He then reached back down to hook his fingers around your panties before yanking so hard that they ripped right off of your body, causing you to jolt forward into him as he tossed them aside, an arrogant smirk plastered on his face.
“Doubt it,” you retorted offhandedly. “You’re not as good as you think are, Al. Last time you fucked me I nearly fell asleep from boredom. I thought demons were supposed to be strong and fearsome. You’re a goddamned softie. You’re weak - a fucking doormat. ‘All-powerful’? What a fucking joke.”
It was an obvious lie. Not only had you previously seen the barbaric carnage and slaughter of his enemies first-hand, but there had also been plenty of times before where he had fucked you so brutally that your entire body was littered with multiple dark bruises, leaving behind a soreness that lasted for several days. Regardless, you were pissed off and you were doing all that you could to deflate his ego, consequences be damned.
The look in his eyes instantly made you regret your words. Grinning sinisterly from ear to ear, he reached up to grab your throat, completely cutting off your airway as he used his other hand to line himself up against your heat before snapping his hips forward and filling you completely.
Your immediate response was to gasp, but he held onto your throat too tightly, quickly withdrawing and shoving himself back in again and again, setting a brutal pace.
Tears filled your eyes as you silently begged him for some lenience, which he finally granted you, releasing his hold on your throat after a few more thrusts. You sucked in the air greedily as he continued to rail you against the wall, nearly lifting you from the ground with the harshness of his momentum.
“O-oh, shit,” you choked out,
“Is this what you wanted? Or am I boring you yet again?” He emphasized his words with a particularly rough jab right into your core.
You wanted to beg him to stop-- to slow down and not be so malicious, but there was no way in hell that you were going to relent and let him think that he won.
“I h-hardly even feel anything. I-- oh god-- I’ve had better sex with-- huhg-- with myself. You’re n-nothing.”
With all of the moaning and rutting you were doing, you would have been shocked if he had actually believed you. Given the way he was fucking you, it was a surprise that you could even form words at all. Regardless, Alastor enjoyed the challenge, and the both of you knew it.
“Is that so?” He then gripped your leg tightly, lifting it up and curving it around to rest on his hip while he slammed himself even deeper inside of you, his cock hitting your cervix with each shove. Your nails raked his back, running along the smooth fabric of his red suit since he hadn’t even bothered to remove a single article of his own clothing.
“How about now? Can you feel me now, you ungrateful harlot?You were slightly taken aback at how angry he sounded-- as if he was genuinely upset by your teasing. If you were being honest with yourself, it brought you a lot of smug satisfaction.
You opened your mouth to give some witty retort, but with the way he was railing you, it was damn near impossible. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you finally relented, releasing a wail of pleasure as you struggled to breathe, each thrust knocking the breath out of your lungs. The only words that escaped you were, “Yes! Oh, god, yes! Just like that. Fuck me like you hate me.” If he wasn’t already dead, you would kill him. He was an alluring monster-- hauntingly beautiful and wicked all at once. You were drawn to him in ways that you could never comprehend, nor explain. The sad truth is that you were no more to him than a form of entertainment. He was an enigma, tempting you with his mystery and promises of wonder, but underneath it all was a sadistic and malevolent being, whose interest in you was limited and not at all sentimental. He made you feel weak-- helpless to his meaningless advances and you hated him for it. And yet… what angered you most of all was that you found yourself genuinely caring for him… and it would never be reciprocated in return.
Luckily for you, there was a way to escape those nagging thoughts, and it was by being completely fucked out by the demon. The pain of his harsh movements mixed beautifully with the pleasure it brought, and you were overwhelmed by the ecstasy of it all. Crying out with wanton moans, your body shook uncontrollably as his suit rubbed up against your clit, causing an unbelievable friction as his cock brushed against the deepest parts of you. He noticed you rutting against him in a way to earn more clit stimulation, so he reached down and began massaging against you in small circles with the pads of his fingers. The action caused you to practically scream as you bent your head forward and bit harshly into his shoulder to muffle your loud noises, probably bruising his skin even through his jacket.
“A-Alastor. I can’t… oh fuck, I-I’m--,” you couldn’t even finish the words before your body flooded with bliss, your climax hitting you so abruptly that your knees gave out and you nearly blacked out from the intensity.
He continued to fuck you with abandon, chasing after his own release as you soon became over-sensitized, tears rolling down your face from the sensations.
Resting his cheek against yours, you could distinctly hear the little pants and grunts escaping his throat. They were sounds of vulnerability that were reserved only for you in moments like these-- a genuine rarity. Alastor didn’t petition for sex often, and he especially didn’t partake in having multiple partners. You were honestly surprised that he wanted to fuck anyone ever considering he hardly showed interest in the activity, but when he immersed himself in it… fuck if you didn’t reap the benefits. Slapping the palms of his hands against the wall on both sides of you, his body shuddered as he released an especially loud groan, reaching his high. Heavy spurts of his demonic seed lined your cervix as he continued to convulse, his orgasm lasting longer than anyone you had ever been with. He had rested his head in the crook of your neck, seemingly forgetting about your fight for a moment before he pulled out of you, still breathless and smirking as he watched the remnants of his hot cum drip down your legs. “What a pitiful creature you are. I imagine it must make you feel utterly wretched getting off on the hatred you supposedly feel for me. I wonder if there is anyone else who can bring you to the brink of death and back like I can.”
Fuck that goddamned arrogance. You fought so hard to put him in his place, and instead you got completely fucked-- both figuratively and literally. Your entire body had ached and would be sore for the next week. It made you wonder if the intense orgasms you got from him were even worth it.
Your heated glare was met with an unforgiving sneer as he straightened out his jacket, which had been wrinkled during your interaction. “Let me be as clear as I can be,” he spoke candidly, though his eyes were filled with warning. “You belong to me.”
Narrowing your eyes at him, you bent down to pick up the shredded remains of your panties before you stepped around him to leave. As you reached the door frame, you paused to turn and speak over your shoulder as nonchalantly as possible before walking out.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
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hold me tighter (even closer)
Summary: Wei Wuxian suffers from really bad nightmares sometimes. Lan Wangji wakes very early one morning to find him painting, it's been days since Wei Wuxian last slept. So Lan Wangji does what any good roommate would do... help him bathe and put him to bed.
Rating: T || Word count: 3800 || Tropes/Genres: omg they were roommates; hurt/comfort; childhood friends; light angst; pre-relationship wangxian; mutual pining
Notes: Originally created this as a twitter thread fic and adapted it for AO3. Come say hello on twitter! I’m in the process of converting other threadfics over. This is part of my omg they were roommates AU series. Enjoy!
AO3 Link || Original Twitter Thread
It’s nearly 4am when Lan Wangji wakes with a start. The culprit?
Oh, just another vivid sexual fantasy involving his close childhood friend.
You know. The one that’s now his roommate. In the next room over.
It’s not the first time it’s happened. Lan Wangji has grown accustomed to the places his mind takes him when he isn’t conscious enough to control it. To the scenes that always… linger when he wakes. Even now, he can’t shake the image of Wei Wuxian’s swollen lips around his—
Nope, nope, nope, he thinks and kicks the bedsheets off.
Oh. What a mess he’s managed to make this time.
With a quiet groan, Lan Wangji drags himself out of bed to get cleaned up. On the way to the bathroom he notices light creeping into the hall from under Wei Wuxian’s door.
He knows Wei Wuxian stays up late. He’s not sure how late most nights, but he’s usually asleep by the time Lan Wangji wakes up around 5 or 6.
Lan Wangji thinks nothing more of it and goes into the bathroom to shower. When he comes out again, Wei Wuxian’s light is still on.
Now it’s strange. Unless, maybe he fell asleep and forgot to shut the light off?
So Lan Wangji decides to investigate. He raps his knuckles against the door lightly. Testing. He doesn’t want to be too loud and actually wake him if he is asleep.
"Yeah?" Wei Wuxian’s voice calls out and he sounds tired. Beyond tired. Why is he still awake then?
"May I come in?" Lan Wangji asks.
"Sure, just be careful."
It’s an odd request, until Lan Wangji gently pushes open the door and sees why he said it.
It looks like a hurricane passed through. There are completed portraits strewn all over the room, some bone dry, some with fresh paint still glistening under the lights.
Most of them are pure chaos. Horrifying images of beasts and distorted faces painted in heavy blacks, greys, and reds. The longer Lan Wangji looks, the more he feels like he is being sucked into a chasm of despair.
Wei Wuxian is sitting, hunched over, in the middle of the floor. The eye of the storm. He’s built himself a little nest of blank canvases, brushes, paints, and inks for easier access.
When Wei Wuxian looks up from the canvas he is currently working with on his lap and offers a tired smile Lan Wangji’s chest feels uncomfortably tight. Tired isn’t the right word at all. He looks like he’s barely tethered to reality.
"Good morning, Lan Zhan."
His voice sounds all wrong. It wasn’t as noticeable with the barrier of the door to mask it before. Lan Wangji has never heard him sound so drained before.
"Wei Ying, what is wrong?"
"Couldn’t sleep," Wei Wuxian says and drops his gaze back down to the canvas. Lan Wangji waits for him to say more, because he always says more.
He doesn’t.
Lan Wangji’s chest constricts again.
"Wei Ying."
"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says without looking up.
Ever since they were kids Lan Wangji has not known any stretch of silence to last this long between them. It’s like he’s been possessed and placed in a trance where all he can do is zone out and paint. He crosses the room, treading carefully around the minefield of canvases, and clears a space to sit beside Wei Wuxian.
Now that he’s this close, Lan Wangji sees that the floor isn’t the only thing suffering right now. Wei Wuxian’s arms are stained with ink and covered in splotches of acrylic paint.
"Wei Ying, will you tell me why you cannot sleep?"
Because it does not make sense that he can’t sleep when he looks and sounds the way that he does right now. Lan Wangji cannot wrap his head around it at all.
Wei Wuxian dips the brush into an inkpot and hovers it over the canvas, it’s so saturated that the ink drips and splatters within seconds, adding to the accidental portrait he has created on his own skin. Lan Wangji tries to ignore that the existing red splotches look like dried blood.
He turns his attention to the canvas instead. It looks like some sort of dog, only worse. Ferocious with matted fur, giant bloody fangs and piercing red eyes.
It resurrects something dormant in Lan Wangji’s memory. A conversation they had as teenagers.
"Wei Ying," he starts off softly. ‘Is it happening again?’
Wei Wuxian pauses for a moment, curls his fingers tighter around the brush and nods once.
"Yes."
The single word is hoarse and heavy. It sends an arrow straight through Lan Wangji’s heart.
To call them bad dreams would be putting it lightly.
Wei Wuxian would wake in the middle of the night, unable to move or discern whether or not he was awake or still dreaming.
Sometimes he could remember the nightmares with vivid detail.
Sometimes only the indescribable fear would follow and cling to him like a second skin. He wouldn’t always know why he felt so scared.
Sometimes the feeling would just persist without any rhyme or reason.
He had approached Lan Wangji when they were about 13 or 14 to ask if he ever experienced anything like that before.
Lan Wangji had not.
After hearing that Wei Wuxian tried to brush it off and pretend like it was nothing.
Not wanting to pressure him to discuss it further Lan Wangji had let it go at the time.
Until Wei Wuxian stayed over one night and he witnessed firsthand just how much it affected him.
They were sharing Lan Wangji’s bed at the time.
Even though Wei Wuxian had not woken up screaming, he had sat up so abruptly, panting in the dark, that Lan Wangji could not help but be roused as well. Still, he brushed it off when Lan Wangji tried to ask about it. Like he was embarrassed to even bring attention to it.
All Wei Wuxian asked was to be held until he fell asleep again.
So Lan Wangji had held him. And let it go once more. Who was he to make Wei Wuxian discuss something when it clearly made him uncomfortable?
But he did his own research and learned about sleep paralysis, night terrors and how stress can cause recurring vivid nightmares. When he went to share all of this with him, Wei Wuxian had announced that everything stopped altogether.
So the conversation was shelved yet again.
As far as Lan Wangji knows, it’s been years since something like this occurred.
Now that he thinks about it though, it would have been easy for Wei Wuxian to conceal the truth and just not bring it up.
But he can’t do that now that they’re living together.
Lan Wangji tentatively places a hand on Wei Wuxian's forearm. He stops painting.
"Wei Ying, how long have you been awake?"
"I don’t know," Wei Wuxian says. "Two days? I stopped counting."
Lan Wangji brushes his thumb over a flaky patch of paint on Wei Wuxian’s arm. How could he not have noticed him passing like a ghost through the apartment for two days?
"I know you do not like to talk about it, so I will not ask if that is what you wish."
Wei Wuxian lifts his head to look at him and… fuck.
The skin beneath his eyes is shiny and bruised. And speaking of his eyes. They’re so bloodshot, holding none of the chaotic energy that Lan Wangji has come to siphon off of him over the years like elixir for the soul.
"Lan Zhan, I’m so fucking tired. I just want to sleep and I can’t even do that."
The way he says it really should not be making Lan Wangji’s sweatpants feels so uncomfortably tight all of a sudden.
It’s not like he just had a sex dream about Wei Wuxian begging and whining in that exact tone of voice.
Nope, not at all.
But then Wei Wuxian’s eyes start welling up and it immediately pulls Lan Wangji back to reality.
If he starts crying there is no way Lan Wangji is going to be able to keep himself together either. And from the looks of it Wei Wuxian really is dangerously close to falling apart.
Lan Wangji wants to shake him for bottling it all up and keeping this to himself for two whole days. Hell, he wants to shake himself for not paying attention better. He won’t make that mistake again.
"Come," Lan Wangji says, gentle yet firm.
"Where?" Wei Wuxian asks.
"You are covered in paint," Lan Wangji states and plucks the brush from his hands. Wei Wuxian releases it without a fight. "I will start the shower for you."
Lan Wangji gets to his feet and offers a hand out to Wei Wuxian. He allows himself to be tugged off of the floor and only once he’s standing does Lan Wangji realise the flaw in his plan.
Wei Wuxian can barely stand without swaying on the spot. Shoving him into the shower, alone, would just be asking for an accident to occur.
"I will draw a bath instead. Come, Wei Ying." Lan Wangji carefully snakes an arm around his waist to lead him.
"Lan Zhan, taking such good care of me," Wei Wuxian says, notably a little delirious now that he’s actively stringing more than two words together.
Lan Wangji can feel his ears getting warm. If Wei Wuxian notices how red they’ve gone, he doesn’t say anything more about it.
After guiding him to the bathroom, Lan Wangji carefully maneuvers him to sit on the toilet while he gets the bath ready.
"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan! I like a lot of bubbles."
Lan Wangji rolls his eyes. He knew that already, had already poured the bubble bath soap with a heavy hand. But he tips the bottle over again and pours just a little more in for him.
As the water rises, Lan Wangji rummages through the cabinet and extracts a small essential oil diffuser. He sets it up on the counter and pours a few drops of sandalwood scented oil.
"Lan Zhan, that smells like you," Wei Wuxian says with a dreamy smile plastered to his face. ‘It’s nice.’
In the mirror Lan Wangji can see his ears have turned a deeper shade of red.
Wei Wuxian is now humming to himself as Lan Wangji shuts the water off and realizes… well fuck. Now he has to get Wei Wuxian in to the tub. And to do that he’ll need to….
Okay, so it’s not like they haven’t seen each other naked before. They grew up together. Shared locker rooms at school. Have had plenty of sleepovers in the past where the accidental glimpse while the other was changing was inevitable.
Wei Wuxian likes to be naked most of the time anyways. Especially during the summer. And especially when he’s drunk.
It should not feel awkward. It’s just friends helping friends.
Lan Wangji is helping his sleep-deprived friend— who he just so happens to be very much attracted to and over the moon in love with— to strip down and…
Oh .
Wei Wuxian has already pulled off his shirt by the time Lan Wangji turns away from the bath to look at him. He tosses it into the corner and settles his hands onto the waistband, clearly already prepared to shimmy out of the pants while still sitting.
Lan Wangji feels as though he’s been plunged underwater. Every movement feels sluggish, and there’s a strange sort of muffled buzzing.
He realizes it’s Wei Wuxian speaking to him.
"Sorry, what did you say?" Lan Wangji asks, dazed.
"I asked if you could help me with these. I get dizzy if I move around too much."
There’s absolutely no way that Wei Wuxian can’t hear the way Lan Wangji’s heart is pounding right now. It might actually come flying right through his chest if it keeps up like this.
Collect yourself, he thinks.
He doesn’t trust himself to speak yet, manages a nod instead.
Lan Wangji is already on his knees when he shuffles closer to Wei Wuxian.
"Lean back," he says, throat dry, and places his hands alongside Wei Wuxian’s on the waistband. Not touching.
As fingers dip beneath the fabric though, Lan Wangji feels his heart climb up into his throat upon realizing Wei Wuxian isn’t wearing anything else beneath the pants.
Of course he isn’t. Why would he?
It’s like he’s trying to separate Lan Wangji’s soul from his body without even realizing it.
He swallows thickly.
"Lift your hips." It takes everything in him not to stutter.
Wei Wuxian’s hands brush against his as he relocates them to hold himself up. The brief contact feels like an electric shock. Like Lan Wangji has never known touch before now.
Which is ridiculous.
Ridiculous because Wei Wuxian grabs hold of his hands on a regular basis. Physical touch is just his natural form of communication with anyone and everyone.
Lan Wangji closes his fingers tighter around the fabric to prevent himself from trembling.
Either Wei Wuxian is actually electing not to tease him for once or he really is just too tired to notice anything.
Effortlessly, Lan Wangji works the pants down Wei Wuxian’s slender hips and is now faced with another dilemma.
He’s been avoiding Wei Wuxian’s face the entire time, keeping himself focused on the task directly in front of him. Which means he is now staring directly at Wei Wuxian’s fully exposed dick.
Like full on staring at it. Can’t-look-away-if-he-tried (please don’t ask him to look away) staring at it.
They’ve caught glimpses of each other in the past. But never has he allowed his gaze to linger.
"Lan Zhan?" Wei Wuxian asks, amused. His words are muffled static again, but the next part comes out crystal clear. "Like what you see?"
Lan Wangji is having a heart attack. There’s no other explanation for it. This must be what a heart attack feels like.
And his ears may forever be stained red at this rate.
Reflexively, he turns his attention up to Wei Wuxian’s face and nearly melts because that smile, oh god that smile he has on really will be the death of him.
Wei Wuxian has to know what it does to people when he smiles like that. With eyes slightly squinting shut, the subtle wrinkling of his nose. He uses all of the muscles in his face to portray his happiness.
Lan Wangji feels the earth shudder to a halt when he looks at him like that.
"I’m only teasing," Wei Wuxian says. He shivers, quickly and quietly.
And with a jolt, the world begins to spin again.
Lan Wangji stands up and wraps an arm around him to help him into the tub. After he’s managed to carefully sit him down into the water he gets to his feet again, poised to offer him some privacy and return when—
Cold fingers intertwine with his.
Lan Zhan? Wei Wuxian asks, uncharacteristically soft. "Can you stay with me?"
Back still to him, Lan Wangji’s breath hitches. He prays Wei Wuxian hasn’t noticed. He turns to find another smile waiting for him. It looks as though he is using whatever remaining energy he has to offer it.
Words fail. Lan Wangji nods and sinks down to his knees once again.
Wei Wuxian leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes. He doesn’t release Lan Wangji’s hand.
Lan Wangji remembers drinking too much once. Remembers the pressure wrapped around his forehead like a rope tied too tight with weights attached. He feels like that now. Drowsy and drunk as he wades sluggishly through the river of thoughts running rampant in his brain.
He blames it on the heavy scent of sandalwood mixing with the rising steam of the bath water.
"Lan Zhan?" Wei Wuxian’s voice slices through the mist.
"Yes, Wei Ying?"
Lan Wangji feels Wei Wuxian’s hand clench his tightly once, pumping a secret message through his fingertips. "You’re a really good friend."
The wild thumping of his jackrabbit heart in his ears muffles his own words when he replies. "It’s nothing."
Wei Wuxian languidly opens his eyes and fixes him with a look. He opens his mouth, closes it again. A speechless Wei Wuxian is such a strange sight. It’s honestly a little unsettling.
Lan Wangji appreciates the stillness of solitude at times. But not when Wei Wuxian is around. He silently revels in the chaos that Wei Wuxian carries with him wherever he goes.
"I should have come to you days ago, you always know how to calm me down. I don’t know why I didn’t."
I wish that you did, Lan Wangji thinks.
"You are here with me now," Lan wangji says instead.
"How are you always so patient with me?"
Lan Wangji doesn’t know what to say. He imitates Wei Wuxian’s gesture from before, squeezes his hand like it will convey all that he wants to say, but can’t.
Wei Wuxian smiles back dreamily in response. Lan Wangji thinks that maybe he does get the message after all.
They sit in the silence for a few moments before Wei Wuxian starts to nod off, jerking his head up with a start and looking around with wide eyes whenever it falls towards his chest.
Lan Wangji decides to be brave. Squeezes his hand again and forces the words to come.
"Wei Ying, please talk to me about it."
Wei Wuxian raises his free hand from beneath the water, mostly clean except for the ink stains that will take days to fade away, and rubs his forehead. He sighs quietly.
Lan Wangji waits patiently. He doesn’t want to press, but he’s prepared to if he must.
"I watched you die," Wei Wuxian says despondently. "Well, more like ripped apart by—”
He stops, closes his eyes and breathes deeply before opening them again.
"It’s always feels so real when it happens. I tried to tell myself it wasn’t and go back to sleep, but it kept coming back. I get myself worked up and it always comes back. Ever since we were young."
Lan Wangji swallows, squeezes his hand again. His recurring death being the main theme of Wei Wuxian’s nightmares was honestly never on his list of probabilities.
But then again, he never explicitly said what it was that ripped him away from peace in the middle of the night. It was one of the few secrets that he clung to.
"Why do you think I asked you to hold me until I fell asleep again all those years ago? And the few times I’ve come into your bed now after drinking too much?"
Lan Wangji’s throat is a desert. The question is probably rhetorical. Something he should know the answer to without having to ask. But he can’t stop himself.
"Why?"
"I needed to know you were there with me. That you were safe and it wasn’t real because I felt you there with me— Lan Zhan!"
The water in the tub is not quite as hot, but still warm when Lan Wangji leans over and falls in as he throws his arms around Wei Wuxian’s neck, clinging tightly. It’s an awkward scene, with his legs still hanging over the edge of the tub as his ass settles onto Wei Wuxian’s lap. He should be the one comforting Wei Wuxian right now, but the hand moving against his spine makes it feel like the tables have turned.
"Wei Ying, why did you not come to me now?"
"Ah, Lan Zhan, will you really make me say it?"
Something in his tone of voice hints at it. He’s embarrassed. The great shameless Wei Wuxian is embarrassed.
"Tell me," Lan Wangji says, leaning back enough to look at him.
"It’s not fair of you to hold me down and force the truth out of me like this, you know!" Wei Wuxian tries to deflect.
"Tell me," Lan Wangji repeats firmly.
Wei Wuxian sighs. "It’s awkward to say. It feels childish to be afraid of such imaginary things. Children have nightmares, not adults."
Lan Wangji could kick him if he didn’t want to kiss him so badly right now. Of all the things he could claim to be childish.
"Children are afraid of the dark," Lan Wangji says.
"Yes—"
"And so is Wei Ying."
"That’s beside the point."
"Children are afraid of monsters."
"Don’t even—"
“And so is Wei Ying."
"Lan Zhannnn, I’m too tired to be made fun of like this," Wei Wuxian whines, pouting as he looks away.
Lan Wangji wants to lean forward and take that quivering lip between his teeth.
"Wei Ying?" Lan Wangji asks softly and earns his attention again. "I do not think it is childish to fear losing those close to you."
"No," Wei Wuxian replies. "I suppose it isn’t childish at all."
They stay like that for a while, embracing as the bubbles dissipate. When Wei Wuxian begins shivering again, teeth chattering loudly in Lan Wangji’s ear, they decide it’s finally time to move.
Lan Wangji stands first, midsection drenched and dripping water along the floor as he retrieves a towel from the cabinet. He helps Wei Wuxian up and wraps it around him, supporting his weight as he dries him off.
"L-L-Lan Zh-an-an?" he chatters out. How is he always so cold?
"Mn?" Lan Wangji grabs another dry towel and wraps it around him.
Wei Wuxian sighs contentedly, nestling in closer.
"Can I sleep in your room?"
That is exactly where Lan Wangji was planning on leading him anyways.
"Yes."
"Will you hold me until I fall asleep?"
And that is exactly what Lan Wangji was planning to do anyways.
"Of course, Wei Ying."
After helping Wei Wuxian get dressed and settled onto the bed, Lan Wangji changes out of his own soaking wet clothes before laying down to join him.
Normally, Lan Wangji would be sipping his morning tea in the kitchen or out on the balcony by now. His day would have begun hours ago.
Instead Wei Wuxian drapes an arm over his waist and nuzzles in closer, his breath warm and steady against his neck when he whispers, "Goodnight, Lan Zhan, and thank you," and then falls asleep almost instantly.
Lan Wangji runs his fingers through Wei Wuxian’s hair, presses his lips ever so gently to the top of his head, and breathes his confession onto deaf ears, "Goodnight, Wei Ying. I love you."
#wangxian#wangxian fic#lan zhan#wei ying#lan wangji#wei wuxian#the untamed#mdzs#the untamed fanfiction#mdzs fanfiction#omg they were roommates#hold me tighter (even closer)#wangxian trash#hurt/comfort#light angst#mutual pining
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Dishonorable Discharge
Series Summary: After the events of Civil War, Steve and his team are stuck in their compound. Following a mission, you disagree with your stalwart leader but he does not take kindly to your defiance.
Sequel to Insubordination, Pulling Rank, Misconduct, Furlough, and Take Cover
Chapter Description: The reader must make a decision; fight or flight.
Warnings: non-con/explicit sex, violence, mentions of birth control/contraceptives. Obviously 18+ (like this whole blog)
Note: Okay so we’ve come to the end of this series. (read the post script). A lot had happened and now we must accept what has come of it all. I hope you all enjoy this finale. Love you ❤
Thanks for reading. Feel free to send an ask, reblog, or reply of your thoughts:)
Your heartbeat rang in your ears as your footfalls filled the rhythm. Your entire being buzzed as you twisted and turned through the dim corridors of the Wakandan palace. Your knuckles still stung from the strike across Steve's jaw and your nerves flurried with the reality of what you had done. What did you do now? Where could you go?
You slid to a halt, out of breath as you almost fell against Wanda's door. You leaned on the wood heavily and tapped softly but frantically as you hissed. "Wanda, Wanda, please. Let me in. Wan--"
The door opened and you toppled over as it did. You grasped your chest as you tried to catch your breath. "I'm sorry but--but I did something. I--" Your voice cracked in your throat.
"Come on," Wanda gently touched your elbow and beckoned you inside. She closed the door, the lock clicked before she turned back to you. She put a hand on your back and led you to the love seat which faced an artificial hearth. "Tell me what happened?"
You sat and chewed your lip. Your hands shook and Wanda reached out to caress your raw and swollen knuckles. "You hurt him?"
"I think," You rasped, "I was so afraid, I didn't...I don't know why I did it." She turned your hand over and twined her fingers through yours. "He's going to kill me."
"No, he won't." She promised, "Not so long as I'm here."
She stroked your hand before she released it and stood. She left you for a moment and disappeared into the adjoined bathroom. She returned with a small box and sat beside you. The glow of the lamp on your other side limned her features remarkably. She opened the metal kit and set it between you. She daubed the split between your first and second knuckle with a cotton swab, the blood drying out quickly. Your entire hand throbbed.
“You should sleep,” She said quietly.
“No, what if--What if he comes looking for me?” You watched as she closed the box and tossed the used swab into the small bin beside the carved desk. “I couldn’t live with myself if he hurt you, too.”
“He can try,” She spoke in venomous tone as she neared again. “Now, you must rest.” Her hands cradled your face as she tilted your head to look you in the eye, “I promise, you will be safe.”
Her thumbs rested on your temples and a warmth seeped along your skull. Your eyelids sagged and your body went limp across the love seat. You fell into a deep slumber without another thought of Steve and your impending doom; Wanda’s gentle grip was the last thing you felt.
-
When you awoke, a pillow had been placed under your head and your legs were bent beneath a thin fleece blanket atop the short love seat. Despite its size, you were rather comfortable and for the first time in months, you did not awake more tired than the night before. The curtains were closed and the fireplace glimmered with artificial flames. Your vision slowly cleared as you looked around the room and memories of the night before flashed before you.
You sat up with a jolt and glanced around the room. Only early morning shadows and emptiness. You pushed the blanket off and stood. You checked in the adjoined washroom to find it just as vacant. You backed away and searched for any sign of Wanda. The small clock glowed in bright blue numbers; 10:34. It was later than you thought. Rarely did you sleep past six or seven,
The door handle turned and you turned to watch it open. Wanda entered with a smile, a covered plate in her hands. “You’re awake,” She greeted, “I brought you some food.”
“I...thank you,” You were confused. She acted as if all was well. As if you weren’t hiding from an enraged psychopath. She set the plate on the desk and waved to the chair.
“You should eat. You must be hungry,” She swept across the room and gently touched your elbow, “It’s very good. Some Wakandan spices I’ve never tasted before.”
“Wanda…” Your breath was barely a wisp.
“It is okay, Y/N,” She squeezed your elbow before releasing it, “He is hurt, that is certain. But he has done nothing.”
“Nothing?” You echoed.
“Please, sit, eat,” She urged, “Once you are finished, I will tell you.”
You sighed and reluctantly sat at the desk. You uncovered the plate of warm hash and a generous serving of scrambled eggs. There were some dark herbs and green veggies mixed in and the fluffy eggs were rich. You ate carefully at first but your appetite soon had you scraping the plate clean. Wanda offered you a glass of water as you chewed and you happily accepted. When at last you were done, she spoke.
“He did not make it so far as your room last night. Not even his own,” She explained, “They found him just outside the pool room. A servant discovered him in the corridor. He has a nasty bump and gash right along here,” She drew a line along her hair line. “And his lip is a bit swollen but he is otherwise intact.” A small grin curled her lips, “Everyone thinks he slipped on the tile...and he has not told them otherwise.”
You blinked at her in shock. “He didn’t...but...you know he will come for me.”
“He will not get you,” She vowed, “Not again. Not ever.”
“You don’t get it, Wanda, there is no place left for me. Not here, not back in the compound.” You brought your hands up to brace your neck as you felt the fire along your spine. “You can’t protect me.”
“I can and I will. This is not the man I swore my fealty to. I promised to fight for those who need it and I can do so without the noble Captain America,” She spat.
“No, I won’t have you throw it away. Not for me.” You pleaded, “This is my problem. Let me deal with it my way.”
“You’d ask me to stand back and watch him do this to you?” She asked, “I cannot do that.”
“No, I am asking you to let me make my own decision.” You countered, “It’s over, Wanda, I promise. I only ask that you let me end it myself.”
Her blue eyes sparkled as she looked you over. You stood and neared, taking her hands in yours. You flinched at the pang in your knuckles. She gave a sad smile. “Okay,” She relented, “I will let you do it your way...Take care of yourself.”
“I’ll do my best,” She drew you into and embrace and you welcomed it. It was the first ounce of love you had felt in months. The first time you had been touched without malice; resent; anger. “Thank you, Wanda.”
-
Shuri had offered her help. Thus you felt better when you ventured down to her lab and pulled her aside. Still, you felt as if you were leaning too heavily on her hospitality. Steve was your problem, not hers. You should deal with him yourself but how had that worked out for you so far? On your way down to the lab, you had dreaded running into him and dodged behind several statues thinking you heard another coming your way. Your paranoia was near crippling. You couldn’t live like this any longer.
You hadn’t offered her details. You hadn’t said much really. You had only asked that she procure you a jet for midnight. It would be enough time for you to prepare but not for Steve to catch on. Your chest filled with butterflies as you shook her hand and left her just as you found her. There was a wisdom in her young eyes. She may not know the situation exactly but she could see desperation as plain as day.
You walked along the curved path which led from one part of the lab to the next. Bucky was sat at a table tinkering with a gun as a wrinkle deepened along his brow. He looked up and you waved to him. The less time you spent here, the better. He waved back and smiled. You left him to his work and quickly found your way out to the hall; anxious to pack for your midnight escape.
You didn’t make it to the first corner. The last person you wanted to see appeared as he so often did. Steve’s left brow was swollen, a large purplish bruise from his hairline to the top of his eye. There was a gash along the the top of his forehead, fresh stitches woven through his flesh. You blanched and came to a sudden halt. He stopped and stared you down; his jaw tensed as he looked back at you.
You broke the standoff as you stepped back and spun around on your heel. You didn’t get more than a couple feet before he was on you. He grabbed your arm and shoved you against the wall, barely missing the nearby statue of a sleek wildcat which stood guard along the corridor. You wriggled and tried to free yourself from his grip, your fist was caught before you could meet with his injured face. He was ready this time.
“Not so fast, soldier,” He snarled, “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Fuck you,” You spat, “Get off of me.”
“You think you’re going to get off that easy?” He hissed as he forced your wrists against the wall beside your head. “You think you can just run away from me? Hooo, girl, you’ve got a lot to learn. You don’t even know the kind of shit you’ve just rained down on yourself.”
“I’ll scream,” You threatened, “And then I’ll tell everyone how you really got that little bruise of yours.”
“I dare you too,” His lip curled dangerously. “Go on, scream.”
You held his eyes as he called your bluff. You sighed and tugged on your wrists but he did not budge. “So what are you going to do? Bend me over right here in the hall?” He chuckled and released your wrists. He stayed close, looming over you so that you could not brush past him.
“My room, twenty-one hundred hours. Sharp,” He growled, “If you manage to get there on time, I may not leave you worse than you left me.”
“I’m going to kill you one day,” You whispered. At first you didn’t think he’d heard you but slowly his brows raised, a wince of pain as the stitches strained against his flesh. “You know that? I’m going to.”
He tilted his head, his jaw twitching as his pupils dilated with anger. “Not if I kill you first, you insolent little--”
“Steve?” Bucky’s voice scared you as he stood just outside the lab. “Hey.”
Steve backed away suddenly as if he hadn’t just been promising your death. He smiled, the shadow that had come over him dissipated in the air. He smiled at Bucky, “Hey, I was just on my way to see the king but I’ll be by the lab shortly.” His old friend seemed unfazed by the scene he had come upon, “Y/N was just asking about all this.” He laughed as he gestured to his face.
“I’d say it’s an improvement” Bucky joked, “And no rush. I’m still trying to figure out this stupid rifle.” He pointed over his shoulder through the lab door. “Take your time.”
“I won’t be long, Buck,” You watched as Steve patted Bucky’s shoulder and sidestepped him.
Silence pervaded the hallway as you watched the blonde super soldier march away. You were still against the wall. It was your only support. You were certain you would have crumpled to the floor without it. Finally, you glanced at Bucky who was staring at you in concern. The smile he had worn for his old comrade had faded.
“You okay?” He asked as he neared you. “What was that about?”
“Just wondering what happened to him,” You lied grimly as you turned to him. “Quite a number he did on himself.”
“Yeah, must’ve been a hell of a fall,” He remarked, “Managed to land completely on his head. No scrapes or bruises on his arms or legs. Just…” He ran a finger along his forehead, “The head.”
You stared at him. He knew it wasn’t a fall. It had been easy enough to guess. You shook your head and looked away in shame. “Yeah, it must’ve been.”
“I don’t think I’m worth it.” He said quietly. “Everything you’ve sacrificed. All of you...him.” You looked back to him as he hung his head, “I’m sorry. It’s my fault, all of it. I don’t deserve any of this. You don’t--Whatever he’s done to you, it must be horrible.”
Were you so transparent? Your heart seized and your lip trembled.
“Bucky…It’s not you, it’s him. He’s different now, I--I don’t know you as well as I should, but I know you were worth it. You deserve your life; happiness, if you can find it. You seem to have found that here...I just need to find mine.”
“You’re leaving.” He said plainly.
“I have to,” You replied in a small voice.
“I know you do, I just...wish it didn’t have to be like this. I was hoping--” He shrugged and sighed. “I’ll help you. I owe you that at least. I’ll keep him from stopping you.”
“You don’t have to--”
“Let me help, please. Just once, I wanna help.” His eyes wandered to your hand as you played with the hem of your shirt, “You must pack quite the right hook.”
“Not really. Good leverage,” You answered with a gulp. “Can I ask one more favour?”
“Anything,” He smiled. It was bittersweet. Forlorn, even. Things could’ve been different. You could’ve been friends. More than just fugitives in the same sinking ship.
“Help him. Help him find himself again.” You said, “I know he’s still there. The man I swore to follow. If he can help you remember, you can help him. I know it.”
“I hope he’s still there,” Bucky frowned, “I...Take care of yourself, Y/N.” He held out his hand and you accepted it. “I’ll tell Shuri to get the jet ready as soon as possible. He won’t wait till midnight.”
You let go of his hand and nodded. You made to turn back down the hall but stopped yourself halfway. “Does everyone know?”
“Just me,” Bucky assured, “I can tell when someone’s trapped. I’ve been there.”
“Please, don’t tell anyone.” You whispered.
“Your secret’s safe,” He tucked his hand into his pocket and looked over his shoulder at the lab door, “Now, you get out of here. I’ll keep him busy as long as I can. I’d say twenty minutes before he’s down with T’Challa, I can distract him for maybe an hour more.”
“Thank you, Bucky,” You felt the tears pooling along your eyelids as you turned and headed down the hall. They spilled as you turned the corner and a weight lifted from your chest. Even if it wasn’t truly freedom, you were free...almost.
-
You didn’t bother packing. You didn’t have the time or the necessity. The others were exploring the city and you were thankful that there were none to witness you sprint through the halls. The only thing you took were your passport and a hoodie. Everything else could be thrown away; phone, clothes, a single book you had brought for the flight. This life was over. You were growing used to leaving everything behind.
You checked your watch and said one last silent goodbye to the team. You stopped outside Wanda’s door and bowed your head. She was strong. She’d take care of everyone. They were all stronger than you. You exhaled and carried on. You kept to the halls on the opposite side of the palace until you found the staircase. You followed the steps until they stopped.
As you came up to the jet pad, the ship was fueling up. Shuri awaited you. You approached her as you waited for your cue.
“Five minutes, at most,” She said, “They don’t know, do they?”
“No,” You shook your head, “But I have to go.”
“Just know, there is always a place for you in Wakanda. Even without them.” She smiled kindly and touched your shoulder. “You don’t have to do this.”
You stared at her. She knew exactly where you were going. She didn’t need to ask. To be so wise at her age. Perhaps you’d never had ended up here. “Thank you, but I do.”
“The soldier will miss you.” She commented and you winced. “Not the Captain, the Sergeant. He...was happy to see you again.”
“If I’m lucky, it won’t be forever,” The jet door slowly began to descend and you glanced over in unison with the princess. “I don’t think the sentence for treason is that medieval these days.”
“I hope one day to see you again,” She looked back to you, “In happier times.”
“I hope so too, Princess.” You bent your head before you stepped away from her.
“Shuri,” She corrected you as you walked away. “Goodbye, Y/N.”
You walked up the ramp of the jet and took the seat closest to the pilot. It would be a long flight but you would not sleep. You knew that. You would rather watch the clouds as you enjoyed your last moments of liberation. As you fastened your belt, the pilot peeked back at you, his hands working expertly at the controls.
“Where to, Miss?” He asked, his accent made the words a melody.
“New York,” The words fluttered from your tongue and floated in the air before you.
-
You stared down at your worn passport. Your real one, not the fake one Shuri had forged for you. You examined the photo of you, though it was hard to believe it was you looking back. You felt older now; different. Everything had changed and you had not been immune to the passing of time. The girl in the picture had been young; hopeful. She had just been enlisted to work for the Captain America.
And now this fractured woman was running from him. You lifted your eyes to the looming giant. Stark Tower was as you remembered it. As lively as ever even if it had lost several of its former regulars. You inhaled the urban stench of the city and sighed. You listened to the sounds of traffic, the endless stampede of pedestrians, the whoops and out-of-tune music of panhandler. You put one foot up on the bottom steps and snapped closed your passport.
You pushed back your shoulders and urged yourself up the stairs. You slipped through the revolving door and past those rushing like ants around the lobby. You crossed to the elevator and a cloud of deja vu came over you. You remembered the first day you had ascended these heights. The first time you had stepped off on the very top floor. You almost felt the same twinkle of glee, though this one was far less bright.
As the doors opened, you were blinded by the fluorescent hues. You let out the breath you had been holding and forced yourself out of the elevator. You approached the round desk where the receptionist sat and you laid your passport before her.
“My name is Y/N and I have come to turn myself in for crimes of insubordination.” You declared. A shadow appeared in the corner of your eye and you turned to a familiar red-head in the doorway just to your left. James Rhodes appeared at Pepper Potts’ shoulder, the two of them in visible shock. Your lips curved just slightly before you spoke again, “Is Tony in?”
the end (for now)
Post script: For this series, I have opted to divided it into two overarching plots. In this first ‘book’ we will call it, we have watched the descent of both our reader and Steve Rogers following the fall out of Civil War. I feel comfortable in leaving this first installment as it stands as I focus on other fics in the meantime. I am content that we have a beginning, a middle, and an end which will allow us to put this down for the time being.
This first ‘book’ will be known as Insubordination and the second, which will not be complete for some time, is yet to be titled and will likely not be seen before the end of 2019. But I can say that it will take place during the events of Infinity War and Endgame and will bring us to our eventual and final end. I thank everyone for their time and patience. You have been wonderful!
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#steve rogers x reader#dark!steve rogers x reader#dark!steve rogers#dark steve rogers x reader#dark steve rogers#steve rogers#insubordination#pulling rank#take cover#dishonorable discharge#furlough#fic#au#series#mcu#marvel#dark!fic#dark fic#dark verse#dark!verse
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5% - 2
The dark mass screeches and this time Bakugou stirs squeezing you tightly to him.
Meaning this thing is not in your head. It is very much a live.
It reaches out claws so sharp that they slice through tender cloth and flesh with little to no force.
You grab onto the warped humanoid's large forearm, grip slowly crushing bone as if it were an empty soda can. Your eye sight blurs from thick dark liquid as lightening flashes and you hold eye contact with its glazed over eyes.
Currently unphased by your actions.
"Being rebuilt by All for One is going to be a cake walk compared to the Hell I'm going to put you through." Your smile twists too much as a hysteric laugh leaves your lips.
One that the decaying Katsuki echos. The beast blinks furiously, pulling from your grip with a scream as your visions flood its tiny mind. You exploit it's fears, laughing as you begin to turn the whole dorm into a maze should another try to find you and your Bakugou.
As you plan every twist and turn with nightmare fuel the Nomu slams its head into the tile over and over again until finally it can take it no more.
It takes those sharp claws begins digging into its eyesockets, so deep that portions of its face are falling its feet until it just stops moving. Rigid for a long moment before it falls over onto its face.
Your breathing slows as your own nightmares begin to catch up. The melting Bakugou fills your mind.
"I'm not breathing anymore Y/N." He pouts. You bury your face into his soft blonde hair whispering over and over.
"You're okay, you're okay." To convince yourself more than the unconscious Katuski.
Hours stretch as you begin to lose your grip in both the waking world and reality.
"Y/N it's time to get up."
You suck in air sharply as you fling up in the bed.
"KATSUKI!" You scream with a much too raw voice, fifteen Bakugou's fill the room of various expressions and the one that has been haunting you since the begining, you're pulled back by the restraints slamming hard against the hospital bed. They tighten and lock, no longer allowing any slack. Aizawa scrambles awake from the recliner from your shouting stumbling to your bed side. He offers you his slender hand to which you hold in a bruising vice grip, anything to ground yourself as your power precedes you.
He does not let the pain show as he activates his quirk, hair standing on end as you all but hyperventilate. The illusions fade away all but one.
"Where is Katsuki?" You screech as you keep your eyes on the one at the end of the bed.
His deadly hands grip the handles that are at the foot of the hospital bed. Graying flesh falls away with every flex of his forearm, red eyes covered in a sheen of milky haze hold onto you with a malice dipped smile on his lips.
"Yyyyyy/Nnnnnn" He sing songs as your eyes flutter, hand squeezing harder.
"He's fine." Aizawa starts.
"He's lying!" It shakes your bed and you gasp.
"You made it very difficult to find you two. You turned that whole dorm into a maze with....haunting illusions. Even my quirk couldn't cut through it at the time. I need you to calm down now okay? In your sleep you've been keeping a maze around you. Doctors and nurses are having a hard time treating your eyes and the whole floor had to be evacuated." He gives your hand a small squeeze, "We've had to keep you heavily sedated."
Bakugou but not Bakugou laughs from the foot of the bed.
"Y/N!" And the way it bites out your name sends terrifying shudders through your body.
"Are you sure Katsuki is alright?" You ask again eyes glued to the the being. Aizawa let's his eyes follow your line of sight and when they see nothing but the door in front of you he reassures you.
"Yes. I promise you he is fine."
"If I'm fine Y/N then why am I here?" The plastic handles groan and the sound of the stairwell door slams in the background over and over and over.
"I died back there because of you. You couldn't save me, you never could." He begins to climb over the foot of the bed, his radius tears through the skin in his forearm. "Your maze took too much time and now that I'm here...I want revenge."
Your heart rate sky rockets, alerting a nurse a floor below to start making her way in. You begin to kick at the image, screaming as Bakugou climbs onto the bed.
His weight dipping the mattress, as he crawls over you, you shake still kicking as Aizawa fights to soothe you. Finally Bakugou hovers over your trapped form, cracked dry lips hover over yours with manic glee.
A piece falls off onto your cheek as he nears closer, you crush your eyes shut only for his rotting breath to huff onto your blood and tear stained cheeks. Even with your eyes closed you can see his milky eyes burning into you and you cry harder as it brings its crusted lips to yours, down your jaw and biting into your neck.
You scream, eyes flinging open to hold the gaze of the nurse who's hand she is pulling back to herself. Can she see him?
Can she see Katsuki? Is she hurting you? Is she hurting him if the one atop of you isn't real?
She falls to her knees, shoving the heels of her palms into her eyes. Her own breathing rapid as Aizawa brings her to her feet cooing that its not real. To look for the haze, for the intamite details an illusionist cannot get from just a flash of your mind.
Jokes on Aizawa because your mother always taught you that the devil was in the details and to memorize that sound, feeling, face better than your own.
You begin to fade as the rotting Bakugou rapidly decays, flesh and maggots landing on top of your chest, the stairwell door slams shut on your conciousness.
Thunder rolls overhead causing you to stir, your restraints allow you free movement once more. Your heavy eye lids blink open to see Bakugou sneaking into the door.
You whimper, hands outstretched for his warm skin until you see his rotting form hovering behind him.
It parts its crusted lips to open its mouth wide, only for the sound of that damn stairwell door to slam followed by a screech similar to Nomu.
Thunder roars again and you shake.
"Oi," He soothes it's just me, "No one but me."
You scramble to cover your eyes as the haunting image tries to take over Bakugou's form.
"You but not you was on top of me, cold and clammy. Covered in blood and I..." You start in a frantic rant but Katsuki will have nothing of it.
"OI! Look at me." He half yells as his fingers pull at your hands in front of your eyes, you stare over his shoulder, "At me and only me."
He grinds the last part out and you obey. Eyes flashing to those of the living, he still holds your hand that's inches from your face.
"What do I feel like?" He squeezes his fingers slowly moving your hand to your side.
"W...warm." Your breath hitches from working yourself up, "But your eyes were mil..."
"What color are my eyes?" You stare into the hard crimson orbs that seem to soften in the intamite hall light flooding from beneath the door to your dark room. You swallow squeezing his hand.
"Red. Like gems." It begins to fade from behind him as your eyes rove over the real Katsuki.
Mentally surveying his injuries compared to what they were in that cold tiled bathroom.
"Scoot over." He hisses, you hesitate, heart beating as you can still feel the weight of the illusion from earlier.
"Oi, I know your head is fucking with you but you heard me right," He leans in close, noses touching, "I said scoot over."
You flinch back and his eyes narrow, demanding answers from your sudden withdrawal.
"I...it...it kissed me Katsuki." You say so softly he almost doesn't hear you, "It made your lips dry and cracked and...and"
You cry, sobs racking your body as your eyes sting from being over worked.
"Oi," He growls, tilting your chin to him, "Stop. You're crying all the medicine out and then you'll have to stay longer."
You stare into his eyes, reminding yourself silently that he IS real. Bakugou leans forward, hand still holding your chin in his deadly hand.
He thinks better of it and let's your chin go, slowly you inch away so he may have room to lie.
He crawls into bed, careful to avoid lying on his cracked ribs. Still he envelopes you in strong arms pulling you close to him. Long moments of comfortable silence stretch between you two.
"You won't get in trouble for sneaking away?" You ask softly to which he sucks his teeth.
"Even if I do, I needed some fucking piece and quiet."
"What do you mean?"
"Everyone is visiting me since they can't visit you with your maze and all." He bites as he runs his hand absentmindedly up and down your skin, you shiver.
"Oh, I'm sorry." You whisper and he sighs angrily.
"I.." You hear him swallow softly, "Thank you for having my back back there."
"Of course."
"I was so worried I wasn't going to make it to you in time. That..." He pauses, letting go a shaking sigh before his voice grows harsher, "That the others would find you and kill you so there wouldn't be any living witnesses. If anything I shouldn't have pulled you to me and into danger."
"I'm... I'm fine. It will subside soon. I just pushed hard was all but I'm glad you're okay."
"Are you fucking fine though? You were so fucking traumatized about protecting me that only Aizawa could look for you. Some teachers couldn't even enter the front door of the dorm without falling to their knees." He squeezes you tightly, "I could have lost you and all because I was too weak to protect you properly. I'm....I'm sorry Y/N."
Your heart free falls into your stomach. He was worried about you?
Maybe it was just his sense of duty to protect others, that's why he sought you out.
But when has Bakugou Katsuki ever apologized before?
"Its okay Katsuki-kun really." You place your hand onto his cheek, thumb caressing softly. You would do anything to keep him safe. Anything to keep him happy and close to you. Since he was letting you in at least for now you might as well lap it up while you could.
All the while convincing yourself that it was only the traumatic incident that has brought you too so close in this moment.
And nothing to do with his linger gazes prior to this.
"Is it behind me anymore?" He asks and you slowly let your eyes wander. It is not and you shake your head meekly no.
Bakugou stares down at you, still seeing the horror of it swimming in your eyes. He wants to erase it, will do anything to erase the hurt and pain as he leans forward. He cannot help himself as he kisses you softly, as if you would break if he pressed harder, any inkling of the rotting Katsu fades away with the rushing heat of your cheeks.
He pulls away with a soft smirk, not how he wanted his first kiss with you to be.
But he had quite some time to make it up to you.
"How do my lips feel?" His voice is deep and husky. Your heart races, cheeks burning with blush as you stare up at him.
"G..good."
"Good." He leans in again capturing your plump lips before moving to your hair line, "Now sleep. I'm here and it wont bother you while the original is around."
#bakugo katsuki#bakugo x reader#bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#bakugo#bakugou katsuki#bakugou katsuki x reader#bnha#bnha imagine#katsuki bakugo#katsuki bakugou#bnha kacchan#bnha katsuki#bnha x reader#bnha bakugo katsuki#bakugo katsuki x reader#bnha bakugou katsuki
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Hi there, I'd like to request a fic, please. Some post season 2 Stranger Things fic. Billy has a nasty migraine. He's trying his best to push through it on his own but is failing miserably. Steve just wants to help.
painkiller(fic requests open)
There are things that Steve has come to expect from Billy. On occasion, he gets nasty. He snarls and scowls and stomps around like the whole world’s on his shit list (and sometimes, Steve really thinks it is). When he’s drunk, he’s aggressive. A sober Billy finds fights, but when he’s drunk, he seeks them out. Steve dragged him away with raw knuckles and bloody noses and blooming bruises three or four times before he started to learn the warning signs- the puffed chest, the clenched fists, the scowl that sets on his face when he wants to pummel something (someone) into the ground. He has quiet spells, too. He can go days without saying a single word.
Of all of Billy’s moods, these worry Steve the most.
They are in Billy’s car, parked on the far side of quarry where no one will see them, and a song that Steve doesn’t know is pulsing through the stereo speakers. Billy sits at the wheel, his seat pushed all the way back so he can stretch his legs out, with his head leaning against the window. His sunglasses shield his eyes. On hand rests lazily on the gear shift, fingers tapping along with the bass.
Steve has sheets of paper spread across his lap: college applications, half-filled out. He bites on the end of a pencil and tries to concentrate on the little bubbles dotting the questionnaires. Have you ever been convicted of a crime? Have you ever been suspended from an academic institution? What is your ethnicity? The words swim across the page as Steve fights to focus, but he constantly loses his place as he his gaze is drawn toward Billy. He hasn’t spoken in hours. Steve looks at his watch; Billy has barely moved in thirty minutes.
“Hey,” Steve says, and Billy jerks his head. “You okay, man?”
“Fine,” Billy grunts. His voice is low, monotonous; there’s no power behind it. Billy lets his head rest back against the window. His hand goes to his face, and though he makes it seem like he is only adjusted his glasses Steve can see him holding his breath and pinching the bridge of his nose for one, two, three, four seconds before dropping his arm and rolling his shoulders like he’s trying to loosen his muscles. His movements are slower than usual; Steve might even call them delicate.
“You sure?” Steve asks. “You look kind of pale.”
“This shithole town doesn’t get any sun,” Billy says.
Steve cannot dispute this. A chill started setting in Hawkins in early September and is not eager to let go. But still, “That’s not what I meant.” Billy says nothing. He doesn’t even humor Steve with a grunt. Steve returns to his papers, but he can’t help but watch Billy from the corner of his eye. He sees Billy move stiffly, adjusting himself in his seat. He watches him lean his seat back, cross his arms over his chest, grit his teeth for the briefest of moments.
When Billy sits back up, he reaches for the radio and switches the dial in a direction that, up until this point, Steve didn’t think he knew it could go. The music, once swollen in the small space, shrinks down to whisper. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Steve asks him.
“Fuck, are you my mother?” Billy says.
“You have a headache?” Steve asks.
“What is wrong with you?” Billy snarls, though it loses its punch with such an even, unfettered tone. Billy puts no inflection into his words. He sounds almost robotic.
“What’s wrong with you?” Steve presses.
“I didn’t come out here for you to bitch at me,”
“I’m not bitching!” Steve raises his voice, and Billy flinches. It happens for a split second, but Steve sees it. Billy’s brows furrow and he scowls, his nose wrinkles and he turns his head away from Steve. It all happens at once, and Billy settles again he doesn’t relax completely. There is tension around his mouth and pulling thin lines around his eyes. “You have a headache?” Steve guesses.
“It’s nothing,” Billy shrugs.
“We don’t have to stay,” Steve says, “if you don’t feel good.”
“I said it’s nothing,” Billy insists.
Steve quiets down again. He tries for a third time to focus on his college applications. He manages to fill in a few of the bubbles before Billy smacks the overhead light off. With the sun setting quickly, the following dark swallows all the words Steve wasn’t sure he was reading correctly anyway. He gathers up the papers.
“Alright,” he says. “That’s it. Get up.”
“The fuck?” Billy says. He seems genuinely startled when Steve reaches across the console for the wheel.
“Move,” he tells Billy.
“You lose your mind, Harrington?”
“I said move,” Steve says, more aggressively this time, and he sees- beneath the sunglasses that still haven’t come off -Billy squeeze his eyes shut too long to be blinking.
“No way in hell,” Billy says.
“You’re telling me you can drive like this?” Steve says. When Billy says nothing, Steve yanks Billy’s sunglasses off his face.
“Fuck!” Billy swears. He swats and Steve, narrowly missing him but issuing enough force to knock the glasses from Steve’s hands regardless. They clatter to the floor and Billy scrambles to catch them, He leans forward as he puts them back on, and his hands linger against by the bridge of his nose. His breath is angry-ragged.
“Billy,” Steve says cautiously. His hands hover now over Billy’s back, but Billy pays him no mind. Steve sighs. He tests the waters- lights one hand on Billy’s shoulder. Billy tenses at the touch but does not pull away. “Get up. Let me drive you home.”
“Fuck off,” Billy groans.
“You could’ve just told me you get migraines,” Steve says. “We could’ve just stayed in. I’m cool just, like, sitting in the dark. If that’s what you need, I mean.”
“I’m fine,” Billy says.
“Drop the act, Hargrove,” Steve sighs. “I’m sick of it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Try to drive, then,” Steve relents. He leans back in the passenger seat and watches Billy gingerly push himself upright. He slides his seat back up and revs the engine. With clenched teeth, he backs the car out of its makeshift spot and edges it slowly toward the road. He is jerky, and the car is, too. “Okay,” Steve says, grabbing the wheel to steady it. “I’m not dying because you’re stubborn. Switch with me.”
“I’m-”
“-switching. Now.”
“You’re a real fucking pain, you know that?”
“Yeah, I pride myself on it. Come on. Park and get out.”
Billy puts the car in park. He sits there for a moment, and Steve is about to ask if he needs help when Billy throws open his door and slowly gets to his feet. He leans against the car for a moment, stays there even as Steve, too, gets out to take over. Steve gently guides him to the passenger seat, Billy grumbling and swearing at him the whole way.
“Call me whatever you want,” Steve says. “You’ll thank me later.”
The Hargrove house is quiet when Steve pulls up. There are no other cars in the driveway. One light is on inside, warm and yellow in Max’s window. Steve sees her peek outside; sees her shadow move out of the room. She meets them at the front door.
“I told you shouldn’t go out,” she says to Billy as Steve helps him inside. Billy is unsteady on his feet, but equally unhappy about accepting Steve’s help. He tries to get ahead of him a few times, but the spinning room and spots in front of his eyes don’t help. He is still wearing his sunglasses. He doesn’t take them off until he is in his bedroom, seated on the bed, and even then it is Steve who- gently this time -eases them off his face.
“You can tell him you told him so later, okay?” Steve says, keeping his voice low. He sets Billy’s sunglasses on the nightstand and starts to pull the covers back on Billy’s bed. “He feels like shit.”
“He’s right here,” Billy growls.
“There’s Excedrin in the bathroom,” Max says. She matches Steve’s tone. “I’ll get it.”
“Get him water, too,” Steve says. In Max’s absence, he manages to get Billy out of his jacket and boots. With much protesting on Billy’s part, he gets Billy to lay down, and he thanks Max when she returns. “This happen a lot?” Steve asks. He shakes a pill from the bottle and coaxes it onto Billy’s tongue, then holds the water up to Billy’s lips. Billy tries to refuse, but Steve is persistent, and Billy swallows a few gulps before Steve sets the glass down.
“Not really,” Max shrugs. “But it’s always bad.”
“I’m guessing he doesn’t take care of it?”
“He’s still right fucking here,” Billy grumbles, and Steve gently smooths Billy’s hair back.
“Nope,” Max says.
“Well, I’ve got him for now,” Steve says, and when Billy seems like he’s going to quip at him, Steve shush him softly, brushing his thumb over Billy’s lips and tracing along his jaw. He backs off when Billy flinches, goes back to lightly playing with Billy’s hair. Billy huffs, but he doesn’t say a word, and he doesn’t pull away. Steve counts this a success. “When do your parents get back?” Steve asks, dropping his voice even lower as Billy’s eyelids flutter close to sleep.
“I don’t know,” Max admits. Steve looks toward Billy’s window; if he can fit through Nancy’s second floor bedroom window, he thinks that Billy’s will be a piece of cake.
“Can you maybe, like...I don’t know, signal me? When they get home?” Steve asks. He looks down at Billy, whose deep frown lines disturb his peace and make Steve ache at the pain Billy must be in. “I want to stay with him for a little bit.”
“Sure,” Max says. “Just, uh...keep the garbage bin by you. He throws up sometimes.”
“Max,” Billy says, annoyed and even a bit betrayed. Again, Steve softly shushes him.
“Will do,” Steve says. “Thanks.”
Max lingers in the doorway a moment longer before backing away. She closes the door behind her, submerging Billy and Steve in darkness. Steve blinks until his eyes adjust and he moves his hand to Billy’s back, massaging small circles between Billy’s shoulder blades and down his spine.
“You okay?” he asks, though he isn’t sure that Billy is still awake. It takes a minute before Billy hums a half-response.
“Fine,” he says. Here, alone and in the dark, he finally starts to uncoil. Every little movement seems to hurt him, so he does his best to stay still and Steve, too, does his best not to jostle him. He stays close. He listens to Billy’s breath even out.
“Hey,” Steve says, though this time he knows that Billy is asleep. There is no response from him. His features smooth minute by minute, though there is still lingering tension there. “I wouldn’t do this for just anyone, you know,” he whispers. “You’re a pain in the ass, Hargrove. But I think you’re pretty worth it.”
#harringrove#harringrove fic#harringrove fanfiction#stranger things fic#billy hargrove#steve harrington#lex writes fics#anon#answered#THEY'RE SOFT
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Not to plug these prompts any harder than I already have but uhhh
This is just that prompt list of lyrics from my playlist, just all in one post because I couldn’t be bothered to reblog all four of them again
Baby, you were my picket fence
Anything you say can and will be held against you so only say my name
When the world gets too heavy, put it on my back; I'll be your levy
The sound of your voice puts the pain in reverse
What are you waiting for? Kiss her, kiss her
Turn on the charm for me tonight
All of your tears will dry faster in the sun
I never knew anybody til I knew you
I live a boring story alone without you
Will you be my Romeo and steal me out of this fairy tale?
I'll seduce your little captivated heart- Now I see the part that was never my goal; you've captured my soul
I knew if I'm with you, I would wish for nothing more
Does she know that my destiny lies with her?
You were the song stuck in my head
If you felt invisible, I won't let you feel that now
You're the one habit I just can't kick
So let's go, we'll take it out of here
You and I were fireworks
I miss your early morning company
I wish I'd known you loved me
Show me your love before the world catches up
We don't talk much, not anymore; but we still care about each other
'Cause that's when I was introduced to true serendipity; I knew it when you showed up again
Dear, let me hear your voice once more; leave me only good memories even if you’re unreachable
I try to smile but every time we grow distant, my heart aches and I want to cry
The warmth from touching your fingertips is still here; I just can't lie to myself
I'm going to see you; There doesn’t have to be a reason why
If you ever need somebody, even when all your hope runs out, I believe in you
You were forbidden to talk to me, but... I want to know your name
Bruises on your thighs like my fingerprints
They were young and independent and they thought they had it planned
Lately I've been losing sleep, dreaming about the things that we could be
We're sleepy, but we won't sleep, for we don't want today to end yet
Painful things will still be painful, but we shall overcome them with the two of us
You can sleep now - It's okay, I'll protect you
We should've known that we'd grow up sooner or later, 'cause we wasted all our free time alone
Some days nothing ever goes right, but when your hand is in mine, you've got me floating on cloud nine
Take my hand and take a deep breath, and we'll ride off into the sunset
Falling too fast to prepare for this
I'll use every last ounce of strength I have to grasp that hand of yours
It's like a prank from the gods, pulling us two cruelly apart
You are the sun and I am just the planets
That ultra kind of love you never walk away from
We do it in the dark with smiles on our faces; we're dropped and well concealed in secret places
Does your husband know the way that the sunshine gleams from your wedding band
Don't pretend you ever forgot about me
I was so young and reckless; it was all a blur but there you were
When the sparks flew between us, I saw you glow and had to know where our journey would lead us
I'm so bad at goodbyes; I hold my breath and close my eyes
Awake with you is better than a dream
Could we just forget this and go back to the way we were? Please? Please!?
I meant everything I said that night
Don't wanna let you down, but I am hell-bound
When you feel my heat, look into my eyes
Don't get too close, it's dark inside; it's where my demons hide
You make me feel like I'm alive again
You say I can't understand, but you're not giving me a chance
I've never heard a better sound than when you're whimpering my name
Got me dialing your number just to hear ya
This is surely my punishment. After all, I've forgotten my place and fell in love
From the start, I knew something like this was impossible; Still, I...
Take me into your loving arms; kiss me under the light of a thousand stars; place your head on my beating heart
I know it's just a dream, but let me feel your hand in mine a little more so I won't forget it
Oh no, I think I may be falling in love
You're such a weirdo sometimes, but I'm still falling for you
I'll do my best not to let you down, so feet don't fail me now
You were trembling a bit when you gave me a childish kiss
Fight off the light tonight and just stay with me; Honey, don't you leave
I try to picture me without you but I can't
Simple and clean is the way that you're making me feel tonight; it's hard to let it go
This dream won't last forever, knowing that but even so, I cannot stow away my feelings for you
Drowning in this curse, our love will never be fulfilled
The princess is awakened, a year falls down her cheek; the Prince wipes it away and takes her tenderly into his arms
Waiting for the day of reunion, I count time and walk along
I can't even look you in the eye; I won't fall for love, not me!
Do you remember the way I held your hand under the lamp post?
I don't wanna forget how your voice sounds
A constellation of tears on your lashes
I don't need the stars in the night, I found my treasure
Hey Mama, I might have found somebody that I really like
Pouting lips in glittering pink, wanna come and give 'em a taste?
I see you staring at my neckline, plunging, tempting, but it's fine. Three inch heels, just the right height; enough for you to grab and hold me tight
Won't say I love you, that's crazy you see
Our meeting has long been decided; it's fate that one day we clash in bloody war
Devoured by the flame of grief, my vision is clouded in red
I think I fell in love again; maybe I just took too much cough medicine
Time goes by and still I'm stuck on you
Eyes getting wet, "Don't be upset", but my heart really wants to cry "Don't go away yet!"
I want to share all your sorrows; give me all your pain
Before I knew it, the sky had cleared up and the stars sparkle pretty tonight. But why does my heart feel kinda tight?
I know it's just a number, but you're the 8th wonder
I've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck than any other boy you'll ever meet
Exchanging body heat in the passenger seat
Tell me again, was it love at first sight, when I walked by and you caught my eye?
Darling, I can't focus on anything; I can't even sleep at night; it's like I'm under some kind of spell!
Deceiving even my heart, I point my blade at you
How many nights do I have to get through to see you?
I can't not be with you or be just your friend; I love you to death but I just can't pretend
I kiss the falling tears that slip from your eyes
Down through the stained glass window panes, the light from the moon drapes on your shoulders like a veil
If God will have mercy then please let me stay right here as I count your every heartbeat
I couldn't bear to wake you, keep on sleeping; just the two of us swaying here on this train ride home
I just wanna get a little closer, just to check on your feelings... And the smell of your hair
You suddenly smile and say 'Sorry, but I can't wait any longer' and then our faces come together; a surprise attack, making my heart go crazy
I'm standing on your front porch saying 'Don't go'
Wishing to be the friction in your jeans
Isn't it messed up how I'm just dying to be him?
Something about the way that you walked into my living room, casually and confident and lookin' at the mess I am, but still you want me
If I told you what I was, would you turn your back on me?
I will always be a tortured soul; don't fix me up, just let me go
Maybe you expected that I'd turn back and go home, but I couldn't let you sink all alone
I confessed to you riding shotgun underneath the purple skies
Last night you were in my room and now my bedsheets smell like you
Let's not talk too much; grab on my waist and put that body on me; come on now, follow my lead
I don't wanna say goodbye; it's tearing me up inside; I just can't get you off my mind
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