chokes on my breath

~Punishment (A.I.)~

Warnings: daddy kink,spanking ,and slight choking kink.

“Gonna have you screaming,” he breathed into my ear and I moaned.

He trailed kisses down my neck, nipping as he went and listening to my breath hitch in my throat. He sucked at my collarbone before running his lips down over the top of my breast. He let his bottom lip slowly slide over my nipple before leaving an open mouth kiss. I gasped and he smirked as he glanced up at me and flicked his tongue out. I gasped as my hands sunk into his hair and he moaned. He closed his mouth around it and sucked on it. He trailed kisses to my other breast and repeated the same process and he was smirking against the skin of my stomach as he slowly moved down it, laying open mouth kisses along the way. He nipped at the inside of my left thigh and my leg jumped slightly. He laid on his stomach in between my legs, glancing up at me. He moved his arms under my knees and pushed my legs up and apart a bit further. He left his arms wrapped around my thighs before he blew cool air across my slit. My hips jerked slightly and he smiled at my reaction.

“Mmmm,” he moaned as he licked in between my folds.

I whimpered as my hand gripped ashton’s hair tightly , holding it out of the way so I could see those forest green eyes glancing up at me as he sucked my clit. I gasped in a breath as he shifted forward some, pressing his face deeper into my center. “Ashton.” I moaned as I bit my bottom lip. Then he suddenly stopped.

“No, baby,” He shook his head. “What did you just call me?” He frowned at me.

“Daddy,” I corrected myself.

“There you go, baby girl?” He laughed. “But I don’t know if I can just let that pass, love…can’t have you thinking you’ll get away with it every time.” He shook his head. “Might have to punish you.”

“But I’m sorry, daddy,” I mumbled.

“I know, I know you are.” He whispered. “But otherwise you’ll never learn, now, will you?” . He began rubbing at me again, tilting his head to the side, as if thinking about his decision for a moment.

“Come on, baby, across my knee.” He whispered.

“But daddy I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again,” I pouted, sitting on my knees and staring up at him.

“Are you arguing with daddy, baby girl?” He taunted.

“No, daddy,” I sighed as I laid down across his lap I knew that he’d only get more upset if I complained.

“Now you’re gonna be a good little girl for me Princess and take all fifteen spankings and count every single one loud and clear. If I don’t hear you and lose count, we’re gonna start all over again. Are we clear?” He said with his authoritative dominant voice and I shivered in delight as his hand massaged my bum.

”Yes Daddy.” I moaned. He continued to massage my bum with his hand and this continued for a couple of seconds, then randomly out of the blue I felt the palm of his hand land on my bum and I could feel my ass wiggle as his hand marked my skin. The sensational feeling of stinging and burning excited me. ”One.”

“We both know that this isn’t much of a punishment for you, anyway.” He whispered gently in my ear, as he caressed my bum before bringing his hand down on it harshly. “God, I love seeing my hand, imprinted on your skin.” He sighed happily. “I love it.” He brought his hand down on me a few more times, whispering loving words as he punished me and telling me how much of a good girl I was for taking my punishment.

”thirteen.” I moaned as his hand harshly landed down my lower ass cheeks, making my leg twitch as the burn roamed through the back of my thigh.

”Louder.” Ashton ordered as he spanked me on the other lower part of the ass cheek. I felt it jiggle a little as I writhed against his lap.

”fourteen!” I yelled out loud. The spankings became even harder and the stings became more and more intense. My hips wiggled but his hand soon gripped my hips to keep me still. ”fifteen!” I whimpered as his hand slammed down against my skin. It felt like my ass was on fire.

“You’re so good for me, aren’t you, love?” He hummed. “You’re such a good girl for taking your punishment so well, you deserve a reward,” he moaned. “Hm… what should be your reward” he thought out loud, then his face lit up. “Sit on my face,” he urged gently as he laid down.

I was somewhat hesitant as I edged closer to his smirking lips, watching as his bottom lip was taken between his teeth in anticipation. His huge hands guided me up and positioned me over his face as I gripped the headboard for support. I was expecting a moment, maybe two, to prepare, but Ashton clearly had other things in mind, his tongue poked out to lick a long stripe up my slit, I gasped because it was so sudden. First, he teased my clit with the tip of his tongue, then working in figure-8’s down towards my core. As soon as he met my entrance, he wasted no time in snaking his tongue into my aching heat and teasing me from there. His hands held a firm grip on my thighs, and he occasionally spanked my bum if I tried to close my legs or if I moaned too loudly. Then his tongue went completely in me and curled into my g-spot, then he sucked on my clit. I was so overwhelmed by the pleasure so I sat up but then he held my hips just buried his face even more in me. He moved his tongue down to my entrance, curving it and getting my juices on his tongue before swallowing and moaning. I carded my fingers through his hair as he slipped his tongue in and out of my entrance before moving up to suck my clit back into his mouth.

“Yea. Like that,” I moaned as I started rolling my hips down into his mouth. “Daddy!” I chanted as my body shook as my first orgasm of the night overtook me and my thighs slightly clenched around Ashton’s head. He forced my legs open and held me down on his face as he continued to suck and lick my clit, then shortly after I had my second orgasm. My legs shook as I got off of his face. He sat up and he made a show of licking his lips before wiping his chin with the back of his hand. I giggled at him because his hair was messier than usual. He looked wrecked and we had only just begun. It was one of those nights where he was going to go all night and i had no say in it. Not that I would ever complain. I crawled over to him and kissed his shoulder before kissing his neck.

“Lay down” he demanded and I obeyed and just to tease him I closed my legs, he came a bit closer to me and forced my legs apart and I giggled. He rubbed the tip of his cock against my clit and I whimpered and he smirked as my hands held on to his strong arms.

”Do you want it, princess?” he smiles and it’s a dirty, sweet smile that says ”I’m going to tease you so bad and you’re going to be begging for it.”

”Yes, daddy, I want it so much, please give it to me, please”, I grind against him but he’s having none of that and pulls his hips back the second I try to move. “Please, daddy”, I add again because fuck, he’s not touching me and I want him to fuck me and it’s frustrating. He moved his tip down to my entrance where he slowly slid it in and I whimpered. I whimpered I felt the familiar stretch of his cock  as it entered  me and I adjust – I’m so used to his cock – and I relax completely, well as much as I can, because I trust him and he makes me feel so good. He gripped my hips with both of his hands as he slowly slid into, giving me time to adjust. I locked my legs around his waist and he smirked at the way I was reacting to the pleasure he was giving me. His hands were gripping my hips but then his other hand went to pet my thigh after he buried his cock completely into me and holy shit, I see stars in front of my eyes, across his face and it’s so good, so good. Everything’s so perfect, and the lust in his eyes is everything I’ve ever wanted to see. My hands held onto his shoulders as he pounded into me, then my fingers laced through his hair at the top and back of his head. Then he stopped I whined. Then I removed my hands from his hair as he sat up.

“Ride me,” he smirked and winked as he laid down. I rolled my eyes at him as I got and got on top of him. I hovered above his cock, he ran his tip teasingly between my wet folds making my body shudder in delight then rubbed the tip of his cock against my clit then against the place I needed him the most. Then he held it there as I began to slide down on it. He grabbed my ass and helped me sink down onto his cock, the feeling of him inside of me was incomparable to anything I have ever felt in my entire life. His length was slowly stretching my walls, and the tip of his cock brushed places inside of me that I had never even dreamed of being touched. I slid down all the way and I whimpered because he was so deep inside me. I began bouncing on his cock then he randomly thrusted up into me and he continued pounding up into me, hitting my g-spot because he loved it when I lost control.


“Ugh daddy,” I whined, as his is rapid thrusts brought me closer to my orgasm third orgasm. “You feel so good inside me.” 

Then he stopped and made me lay down, and I wrapped my legs around his waist so he could stay inside me. Both of his hands went to clamp onto the top of the head board as and he began pounding into me harder. He was groaning with pleasure as his name was a chant on my lips. He bent down to kiss me and I bit his bottom lip and pulled on it before letting it go. He hissed and thrusted harder into me .From how hard he was pounding into me he was literally fucking me into the mattress. Then he let go of the headboard and he held onto my hips as the head board hit the wall repeatedly but we were so lost in the pleasure we were giving each other to care.

“Daddy!” I screamed I felt a rush as my orgasm took over me. He groaned as he thrust four more times into me as he came inside me. His body shook as he gasped for breath, sweat covering both of us.

He laid on top of me and we laid there in silence for what felt like forever as we tried to calm down from our orgasms. He sat up and slowly slid out of me and his cum spilled out of me. I groaned because of the emptiness .He laid down between my legs, his head rested on my chest and I carded my fingers through his hair. Then after a couple of minutes of sitting in silence he sat up and let his hand cup between my legs and I whimpered. He rubbed over my clit and I tried to clamp my legs together but he bent his arm to prevent that. He slid his fingers down and pushed two inside of me and I shook as I bit my bottom lip and I looked up at him. He thrust two fingers in and out of me he had his thumb rubbing at my clit and I whimpered. Ashton was switching from watching my face and watching where his hand was between my legs. It didn’t take long for me to come a fourth time and he was sure to take his time dragging his hand away from my center. He leaned forward and kissed me and I kissed him back. He broke the kiss and he smiled down at me as he slipped between my legs.

“Give me time to recover Daddy.” I groaned from exhaustion.

“You’re not tapping out on me are you love?” he breathed and I shook my head no.

“I just need time to catch my breath.” I smiled up at him.

“I love you.” he smiled.

“I love you too.” I smiled as he leaned down to kiss me. I was just about to doze off when I felt him kiss my neck and I groaned at him and rolled over onto my side.

“Don’t fall asleep I’m not done with you.” he whispered.

“Wait what.” I said. I was exhausted from the things we did earlier.

“I’m gonna flip you over and pound into that tight little pussy.” he breathed against into my ear then lightly spanked my bum. I looked around the sheets were ruined, and pillows were all over the floor but I knew that would happen the moment we walked through their front door earlier.Ashton grabbed a pillow and put it under my hips and I sighed. His lips connected with my shoulder and I moaned. I felt the tip of him against my sensitive entrance and I shivered before he was sliding in. I sighed when he bottomed out inside of me and my walls clenched around him and his hands came to rest by where my arms and torso met. He began slowly thrusting into to help me.

“Daddy.” I softly moaned.

He started off with slow shallow thrusts before he started picking up his pace. He was moaning, and he moved one hand onto my lower back making me arch my back and lift my ass a little bit more in the air.

“Princess you feel so good.” moaned Ashton.


I sobbed against the sheets when he began thrusting faster and harder into me. All that could be heard was the sound of skin slapping together and our moans. Then his hand slid down to start rubbing at my clit. I was so sensitive and I came pretty quickly, and I clenched around him. But he didn’t stop. He held onto my hips a bit tighter and pounded harder into me causing the headboard to slam against the wall. I sobbed against the sheets from the overwhelming pleasure. I could barely even form words as he ravaged me.

“Please daddy make me cum-.” My sentence was cut off when he pulled my hair and pulled me up to his chest and pounded me harder. My moans turned into screams of pleasure. Then he grabbed my arms and held them behind my back and he moved one hand to hold onto my neck, as he pounded into me relentlessly.

“Yeah take it” he moaned into my neck. “You’re such a good girl for daddy.” he moaned into my neck kissing it. I breathed harshly and bit my bottom lip before gasping for breath when he let go of my neck and hair, my face and torso fell back onto the mattress. My knees were barely holding me up; I was shaking, I was so close.
He kissed me as his thrusts sped up, his orgasm was approaching .I could feel his hard cock throbbing inside of me and I whined into his mouth. He slid off the bed and stood at the edge for more stability. I screamed and arched my back and he smirked down at me. I choked on his name as he moved a hand down and moved his hand to rub my clit. I clenched down on his cock as another orgasm was approaching. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he growled into my ear, “I’m not down with you yet.” I called out through the room as he attached his lips to my neck again, biting down on it and sucking, running his tongue around the spot. The bed was hitting the wall harder than it had done all night His hands were latched into the headboard above my head and he was using it as leverage. Rough. That’s all I could think. But it still wasn’t rough enough.

“Harder,” I begged in a whisper and he obliged by letting out a dark chuckle and then holding onto the headboard so hard that his knuckles turned white. He rammed into me once, so hard that my arms gave out on me. I was flat against the bed, face down, unable to hold myself up any longer. I cried out and then he started a sloppy rhythm that had the bed shaking and beating the wall with such force that I feared it might come apart at the seams. I buried my face into the pillow and screamed. He let go of the headboard and his fingers dug into my backside again, pushing down on me, he slapped my behind hard, growling. He was almost completely parallel to me, his fists bracing him under my arms, and shoving into me so hard that I was sliding up the bed. He clawed my behind with his fingernails, growling loudly through the room like an animal. He groaned about how tightly I was squeezing around him.  I heard his breath hitch, his arms shook hard as I felt his warmth inside of me and he bellowed out through the room, growling out a loud, “FUCK!” I felt his first stream of release sputter inside me. The wild animalistic groan he made triggered my orgasm. A long shaky breath left my lips as I came around him coating his cock in my arousal. His filthy words filled my mind all at once adding to the intensity. He fell to my back, pushing my hair away from my neck and the side of my face and showering me with gentle kisses.

My face is planted on one of the pillows, my body sore and pussy hurting. He slips out of me with ease, and rolls off of me and lies next to me on his back. He’s pushing his fingers through my hair. I giggle a bit, I’m tired and I want to sleep.

”Fucking hell”, he breathes. I’m looking at his side profile. He has his eyes closed for a moment but he sighs and opens them to turn his head to look at me. We share a satisfied look and he laughs happily, out of breath.

“I’m exhausted”, I mumble. I’m so close to falling asleep.

”Yea”, he agrees. Now is not a good time for talking. He grabs me and pushes me against his side. His soft and warm skin is the last thing I remember before I fall asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A/N: This is my first piece of writing ,so i hope its good. Thank you so much for reading! <3 :)

i keep repeating to myself, “he hurt you. do not go back to him.” but the second i even blink, i catch myself running back to him at full speed and it never fails to amaze me how quick we are to run back to what broke us. as if that’s going to fix us again, as if a knife could ever be more
than something that rips open your skin and makes you bleed. as if a bomb could ever be more than something that just explodes and obliterates everyone around it, even the one who holds it. as if you could ever be something more than just a poison i inject into my veins, as if you’re not as destructive as a hurricanes winds, as if you’re not a tornado made up of screams that only ever made it to the tip of my tongue but not quite out of my mouth, you’re usually just sitting at the base of my throat, choking me out, making it nearly impossible to breathe. as if you’re not the one who shattered my walls and squeezed my heart and then placed it in my own hands, telling me
“look at the mess you’ve made.” you hurt me and still, i was the one who apologized. i took the blame for you bleeding me dry. see, i thought this was love until i realized that love isn’t supposed to destroy you, it’s supposed to build you up, make you feel like you’re coming home. // this was never home and i can only hope that one day i will stop running back to you.

Important State Champs lyrics: The Finer Things/ The Acoustic Things
  • I bet you couldn’t tell that I felt the same way, struggling just to get to the next day. 
  • I can’t be saved. 
  • Holidays tend to make me feel whole again. Rainy days make me feel like the dream is dead. 
  • I can show you what it’s like to be down when you’re all alone. 
  • I’m finally acquiring the state of mind that everything is gonna be alright.
  • Find a way to stay in your skin. 
  • Wouldn’t you know I’ve come to terms? That you wouldn’t even care if I choked up and stopped my breathing 
  • Maybe I’m a bad person. 
  • It only matters if it’s worth it, so does it even matter at all? 
  • I think persistence is this price that we pay in the end 
  • Pain loses so much weight when I leave the ground 
  • Over the line every God damn time, and you’re still waiting on me to let go.
  • Not a sound can be drowned If you don’t stop listening
  • I’m seeing red, and as a result my dreams, were left unsaid, how could this happen to me? 
  • I’m looking past the ones who fell back in the race, you can see it in my face 
  • Thought I was special but you know I wasn’t 
  • My heart’s beating so you know I’m alive 
  • I’m not afraid when I’ve got something left to give 
  • I bet you thought that I would start it again 
  • ALL OF CRITICAL. EVERY LINE.
  • Long live the problem child 
  • Now I don’t think I’ll ever feel like this again 
  • I’m willing to prove you’ve got more fight left in you. 
  • I just wanna be more than a memory. 
  • All of I I’m Lucky because amazing
  • If truth be told I blame the monsters in your head.
  • We’ll raise the stakes and show them that we’re different
  • I know I don’t say it but I love you too and it’s starting to make sense

Around The World And Back (x)

---------

When you sent me that love in a pocket sized envelope all I searched for was those words that have been digging deep inside all the letters I didn’t send you. The words that wrapped your tongue were choking my breath, making me breathe the last air of love. The library of my love was void of goodbye but honey you wrapped our love in silver foil trying to keep it warm but feelings don’t work that way. Your footsteps never felt this cold until they walked on the grave of something that was meant to see every next day but may tomorrow was just like the word ‘almost’, we were there trying to grab it, me trying harder lurching forward with every strength I had and just like that in one moment it was so out of reach and now I don’t know if I could ever write those words to address your letters. And may be the regrets crawl up like second skin every time I remember that I didn’t get to say goodbye. Because may be that wasn’t a goodbye for me, it was, just a string of more letters, with your name.

Reiji Rants #6

Request: A rant on how society portrays vampires.


*sighs and pulls his coat off, getting ready to rant*

Let me get several things clear firstly.

I do not go “bleh bleh bleh I vant to suvk your blood.” I am not Romanian. All vampires are not Romanian. A tiny minority are Romanian but the majority come from other European countries or even non-European countries.

I am not allergic to garlic. Garlic is a beautiful seasoning. But I am not going to start choking on my own breath and start dying if you wave it in my face. I will kill you if you wave it in my face like a pansy.

I don’t wear a cape. I don’t stalk people around in hopes of getting blood. Masculine blood is quite bitter and bland for my own tastes and I prefer a sweeter blood that is found in feminine blood.

My biggest pet peeve of societal views on vampires and the sensationalization is how………

APPARENTLY WE ARE ROMANTIC LITERARY DEVICES.

HOW IN THE EVERLOVING FUCK AM I “A SEXUAL CREATURE OF THE NIGHT?!?!?!”

You have best-selling books depicting my race as a sexual creature that SPARKLES in the FUCKING SUN AND CHASES AFTER WOMEN. LEFT, RIGHT AND CENTER LIKE A CHILD ON A SUGAR RUSH. I am not a child on a sugar rush. I am not wanting to bone every woman I see like Laito.

I AM NOT AN OPENLY SEXUAL VAMPIRE GOD LIKE MY BROTHERS MAY TRY TO BE.

I AM A WELL-MANNERED GENTLEMAN WHO STICKS STRICTLY TO HIS VIEWS AND VALUES.

I do not appreciate being sexualised.

I do not appreciate having sexual versions of myself all over the internet and I do not appreciate having girls thinking it would be romantic to be bitten by a vampire.

I will make sure that it fucking hurts.

anonymous asked:

"Ig kept me away from my son" I literally choke on my tea and lost breath for thousand years. How the fuck does Ig keep one from their own child?! I'm a mother and a fucking earthquake wouldn't keep my away from my son!! INSTAGRAM?! Bitch, wake up!!

whoever made that account imitating her really got the characterization on point i’ll give them that

terapulse  asked:

Steals a lip smooch from his brother because he can.

          A look of surprise – not shock, surprise – passed on Hanzo’s visage
as Genji quickly leaned over and pressed his lips to his, the small brush in
hand forgotten, falling on to the piece of paper where intricate shodō had
been ruined by the ink of the falling object.

          It might have been a quick peck, barely even lasting a second, but yet
Hanzo’s cheeks were dusted pink and his eyes wide, lips pressd tightly together
in sheer embarrassment of being caught off guard. Twice he blinked fast as if
he was a man in the desert looking at a mirage, and twice did he see the
cheeky expression upon the Sparrow’s features.

         Hanzo came back to his senses, shook his head but let a light grin briefly
become a reality.

         “ Ask before you act the next time, Genji.

         The heartwarming act ended when Hanzo realized the calligraphy he had
spent several minutes on was ruined, a small groan leaving his throat even at
just the thought.

———   palatial vesuvius has caved  ( and if this unquenchable god can be felled, what HOPE does their nation have ?? )  and from the sky does anguish fall.  it catches within faltering lungs, the ash clinging to frightened breaths as he searches deep into the FACE OF DEATH.  the reaper, come to COLLECT HIM AT ALL.  volcanic ash a poison seeping into half-open eyes, burning, scalding ; he is pompeii, swept into nothing BENEATH blankets of cinders, he is herculaneum, his previously lavish mannerisms defeated by this RAGING ERUPTION.  it is mother earth dumping her anger onto this long-suffering soul.  there is nothing in him but LAVA, the only combat against a raging blizzard that consumes his ARMY.  ❝  general, i’ve,  ❞  your breath is short, pliny the younger, do not forget what you have survived thus far,  ❝  we’ve recieved another letter from the congress.  how would you like to respond ??  ❞

                                               @legacyborne   CALL .
take my breath away (i was bound to choke.)

andrew dreams that neil runs away.

read at ao3 here

Neil didn’t think Andrew would find out that he’d run away first thing in the morning. Andrew does though, just because he’s him, and because Andrew’s heartstrings have been disgustingly twisted and attached to Neil in a way that chills the marrow in his bones (one feels every tug and pull felt by the heart, after all). The first effect this piece of information has on him is the way that red hot anger licks its way up his spine and vices his chest. The second is when his hands clench into fists, then unclench, then shake. The last is when he finds that he absolutely, utterly and irrevocably detests Neil Josten, but not as much as he detests himself. This last sign is followed by the burning in his throat when he realized he can’t breathe.

This is the point at which Andrew woke.

It felt as if his nightmare had bled into reality when he noticed he was choking (either on empty air or Neil’s name, he was sure one was vaguely more likely than the other but he ignored it.) Andrew is usually careful and meticulous when his fingers chase Neil’s skin but he’d just had a nightmare so his arm reflexed to (quite violently) bat against the other side of the bed to seek Neil. Andrew’s quite aware that he’s being completely stupid and out of character when he feels ice clawing his heart when his arm makes contact with cold sheets. It’s not stupid because Neil would never run (because even now, sometimes Andrew still thinks that Neil will run; he will run and not return because running practically comes easier to Neil than breathing.) It’s stupid because he can hear the shower running in the bathroom and Neil’s shed shirt is laying on the edge of the bed.  

Fucking Josten.

He lazily gets out of bed and tugs on his sweatpants, then the shirt he wore last night (he notices sickeningly that it’s Neil’s. It’s even more sickening to Andrew Minyard that he enjoys what Neil’s shirt smells like because it reminds him of Neil and that’s fantastically grounding.) This feeling, or sentiment, whatever the hell it is, is not funny or cute or romantic to Andrew because its dangerous and it fucking terrifies him. The concoction that is this Minyard brother is a fine sculpture made of ground-up bones, held together together by dried blood, and adorned with the fine powder of his battered skin. In a museum, this type of art is meant to be stored in a crystal glass case, in a far, abandoned wing somewhere, devoid of any touch or flash photography because despite its ethereal beauty, it could crumble or be crumbled upon contact. Neil Josten, in this museum, was the lost visiter, never staying long enough to read the damn directions, always wandering long enough to break and damage. Neil, who’d found himself in the one place he shouldn’t be in and punched the fortifications of said devastating work of art. At this point, Andrew found that he was quite close to either turning Neil to dust, or shattering into a rude, unfixable mess of shards himself, and he wasn’t very fond of either option.

The entire idea simply caused his jaw to tick and caused something ugly to wake up in his eyes because he hates this terrible vulnerability almost as much as he craves Neil’s voice.

“You’re up,” Neil says and it makes Andrew look up at him. He swallows the fire in his throat but refuses to respond. A small frown makes its way on Neil’s face when he recognizes the knotted skin between Andrew’s brows. Instead of pulling a shirt on, he makes his way over to Andrew’s bed and Andrew hates him for it.

“Andrew?” There’s concern in his azure eyes now. A bright blue, a tethering blue. Andrew despises him.

Neil’s hand is close enough to Andrew’s leg to touch but he doesn’t because he knows Andrew might not want that. Neil doesn’t offer anything more because he knows just his name covers all the hanging questions he wants to ask. He knows that Andrew knows those questions already, and like always, Neil waits, like he always waits, for Andrew to decide what he wants.

It seems like a waning eternity before Andrew responds with a simple “I want you to prove it.” Now, Neil is confused but his raised eyebrow is answered with Andrew’s scowl, which signals that he’s willing to expand if he absolutely has to.

“Prove to me, Josten, that you won’t fucking run away. Whatever shit’s thrown at you, show me you won’t run away.” There’s a long-gone but familiar wickedness in his eyes and a bitter smirk plastered on his face that drips challenge and blood onto his teeth. He’s breathing a little harsh and its audible but Neil doesn’t comment if he notices. (He does.) It’s a surprising question yes, but his lips don’t overflow guilt this time that Andrew’s demanded this because he knows now he won’t run away, can’t run away, not from Exy, from the Foxes, from Waymack, and not from Andrew. It’s true that Neil’s been a runner all his life and for 18 years he’s ran away from things; his father, his home, his name, but now he’s been given something, someplace and someone to run towards and as much as that numbs Andrew, it exhilarates Neil.

Neil would smile softly but Andrew looks like he’s teetering on the edge of something very sharp and his eyes might cut him so he doesn’t move.

“Show you?”

“Yeah. Do something that’d make it impossible for you to go. Dye your hair freaking electric blue, get a tattoo on your neck. You’re creative, go do something radical.” His words are bitter and poisonous, but Neil finds it crushing that they’re laced with fear.

“I could get bright red contacts,” Neil suggests. Andrew rewards him with a roll of his eyes.

“That’s not making it hard. You can take those out in the next 2 minutes.”

Neil stays silent for a couple more beats and Andrew’s heart fills with lead because there’s no proof he wouldn’t run away and it was stupid for him to think otherwise so he gets up with a huffed “Nevermind, forget it.”

But Neil Josten isn’t anything if not stubborn so the next thing he knows, he’s sitting back on the bed with Neil’s fingers pressed around his wrist. He shoots him an unimpressed and bored glare that Neil deflects easily.

“What do you want?”

Neil responds, “I’m going to show you.”

Andrew looks at him like he’s crazy and as if this conversation didn’t even happen (because he’s already trying to forget it) but Neil continues after a slight hesitation. He looks down at Andrew’s still-held hand and then at this eyes, silently asking for permission before he starts to brings up the hand towards his chest slowly, slowly enough to let Andrew snatch it away if he wants (but he’s thankful that he doesn’t.) Andrew’s quite confused as to where his hand’s being guided and his hands quiver a little when the pads of this fingers feel the calloused surface of Neil’s scars. His eyes are bewildered when they meet Neil’s,  and they whisper trust.  Andrew feels when Neil’s skin shivers and momentarily tenses under his palm but he released the buildup of tension in a single exhaling breathe. He feels when Neil’s eyes go bare and sees the vulnerable and tender rawness of them as he’s stripped blank in front of Andrew, a boy who’d drugged and bullied and tortured him only a couple years ago. Andrew, the first person Andrew had leaked even the most watered version of his truth to. Andrew, who he’d chosen to run towards.

Andrew’s fingers soften and flow like cool water over his scarred heart before Neil pushes the lump in his throat down and moves again. He was already so close to Andrew and now he’s leaning in so his face is dangerously close to Andrew’s lips. He comes close enough so that they’re a thin breadth apart but not enough that he’s forcing a kiss. Andrew knows the meaning of that space, the weight of it, the question in it and his answer is yes, so he pushes towards Neil even as his mind screams.

Neil’s lips are tattered but their promise is bruising and firm. Andrew lets himself be kissed, be reassured and there’s no space left for air between them but Neil is sort of an equivalent to oxygen for him anyway. Neil doesn’t look at him when he finally pulls away and his voice cracks and if Andrew notices, he doesn’t mention it. (He notices.)

“That’s why I can’t leave.” It’s said low enough that its almost meant to not be heard.

It’s unsaid, like so many things between then are because neither of them are kings of words but Andrew understands. He doesn’t condone it, but he understands it from Neil’s perspective and for once, that’s enough. He understands that Neil can’t run because when Neil runs, he doesn’t leave a trace of him behind and there’s already too much of him fused here at Palmetto. There’s too much of Neil Josten engraved in Andrew’s memory. Neil’s a light packer and the weight of Andrew’s lips on his is enough to make his back ache with the effort of carrying such an incubus.

In that instant, as Andrew’s lips burn and bruise Neil’s once more, he realizes that Neil is not the dispersing smoke after a thrillingly burnt cigarette. Neil Josten is the nicotine eating at his lungs; permanently rooted, ever-present, and unforgiving.

an: let me know if you’d like to get tagged in future fics 

Squeeze

#49 - Chair sex. Requested by an anonymous requester for my Follower Appreciation Day Random Drabbles from the 100 Kinks List.

Author: Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Characters:  John Winchester x female reader

Word Count: 963

Warnings: explicit language, nsfw, explicit sexual content, smut, unprotected sex, breath play (choking)

Author’s Notes: This is my first breath play fic. I am not using this one for breath play on the kink list because it was requested for another character, but this idea came to me and I ran with it. Thank you to my wonderful beta @mamapeterson for always taking the time to read my stuff and fix my mistakes.

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You don’t know how it is;
when there’s no blood running out of my veins,
there’s just golden ichor mixed with divinity;
and when I try to talk to the Father,
I start choking on my halo and can’t breathe;
and I can’t get out of my bed because of pain in my back,
a strong reminder of white feathers they’ve cut off
when they send me here. 
(I should have think twice before I trusted the Morning Star.)
—  even the fallen can be regretful
Mt. Initium:

In lieu of hand, I hold my tongue
Choke back voicebox pollution
Foul-breathed massif exhalations
Till cracked lips plead from lungs

Know me well, I am far from a chancer
Gale-handed grip slips in shades of Autumn
Scale peaks, yet find me wind-tossed to bottom
With two left feet, nary call me a dancer

Chapter ascent on cracked eyes for skimming
Tending to leaflet deluge in dead of Winter
Hew bark to imprint ardent words, retain arbor splinters
Return to a foreword for hapless brimming

Inconsolable heights, unknowable plummets
Frostbitten fingertips, for shame
With only mountaintop declarations to blame
For oft I have failed to climb these summits.