#it's like. the faintest whisper of a whisper of a nut

[sergle]

When I was on that antidepressant antiNUT type beat, I COULD nut. however it was the most unsatisfying cum of my life. Barely a trickle. Heart pounding after my furious seizure jerkimg, and it's like, wait. was that it?? Go to try again. No bitch no nut juice left, you used up all ur pussy points for today. Go home. Tf

EXACTLY EXACTLY DJHUYAWHYURHDUYG

[sparklingchim]

pretty in pink; m | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.6k

rating: 18+

genre: dilf!jungkook, f2l, established relationship

warnings: 69, marking, dirty talk, bewb obsessed jaykay, sum spanks, multiple orgasms, clit play, fucking in a cute lingerie set <3, creampie, breeding kink, kinda strength kink i dunno, he gifts her a necklace w his INITIAL m actually sick 😐, overstimulation, no condoms must nut inside my gf's pussy then😁, two (2) nipple pinches, they're saur in love i hate them <3

summary: your first valentine's day with your boyfriend.

a/n: happy valentine's day my friends !!!! <3 our fav couple is back !!! w their first smut drabble 🤭 read their entire story here though it's not necessary to understand this drabble cos this is just plain pwp 😋

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

“You gotta be quiet.”

“You’re telling me that?”

Jungkook’s scoff is laced with incredulity.

“You’re the one who hasn’t stopped groaning and moaning since we got in the bedroom!” you fire back in a whisper.

Jungkook is momentarily speechless. He eyes you up and down, open-mouthed. “Have you looked at yourself?”

Warmth spreads on your face. Okay, your body might be clad in nothing but a dainty, soft pink lingerie set, adorned with tiny pink and red roses everywhere, accentuating your curves, but that still doesn’t give him a free pass to be loud and possibly wake up Nabi.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were wearing this?” Jungkook’s palm smooths over the expanse of your ass, his eyes trained on your boobs. “Would’ve spent the whole day with you in bed.” His lips are absentmindedly shaped in a pout, fingers exploring your body as he thinks about all the ways he’s gonna have you.

“That’s not the point of a surprise.” Your palms are against his chest, the white t-shirt warm on your skin. While Jungkook made sure to undress you – awed gasps and ardent moans escaping his throat with each piece that he discarded on the floor, your pretty skirt and top he complimented you the entire day for, suddenly no longer worthy of his attention – he remained in his clothes.

The gold necklace with his initial on a little pendant around your neck shimmers in the dim light of the room.

It’s a tiny present from Jungkook. Your rule for today was clear, or so you thought – no presents. You should have known that Jungkook wouldn’t stick to it. You’re not complaining per se, you love the chain, but you feel a glimmer of regret that you didn’t get him anything.

“You look so pretty.” Jungkook’s eyes travel up to your face, briefly stopping at the necklace before the faintest hint of a smile settles on his face. He’s so soft. “My pretty baby.” His fingers are on your waist, drawing you closer.

You tug at the flannel shirt he’s wearing over the plain white t-shirt. “Take it off,” you mumble.

His flannel shirt hits the floor within a second. Your teeth sink in your bottom lip when Jungkook pulls his white tee over his head.

You swallow involuntarily at the sight of Jungkook’s chiselled chest. “Better like this.” Jungkook laughs at your hushed comment, but you ignore him and press light kisses along his broad chest.

Your hands move on their own, brushing past his abs, finding the taut muscles on his back.

He sighs above you, hands anchored in your ass. Your kisses lead you to his face, small, lingering smooches pressed on his sharp jawline, the corner of his lips, and then on his mouth. His lips are still plump from making out earlier. His tongue darts out, dancing around yours as he delivers a spank to your ass.

With a moan you pull off, nuzzling your face in the crook of Jungkook’s neck. Your fingers work on his belt, pulling down his pants and boxers once you’ve managed to unbuckle it. He steps out of his clothes, getting rid of his socks as well.

You slowly sink down to your knees.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses at the view of you. In that pretty, innocent outfit, looking up at him beneath those guileless lashes. You wrap your hand around his already rock-hard cock, his veiny flesh twitches at your grasp and a breathless groan falls from Jungkook’s lips. “Spit on it.”

You gather saliva in your mouth before you let it hit his dick. A hiss follows. Your pump his cock, your mouth wraps around his tip and you begin to swivel your tongue around it.

“So good, baby.” Jungkook tucks a loose piece of hair behind your ear.

His praise makes you take more of his cock and you swallow him deeper. Your eyes sting at Jungkook’s size, but through slow bobs of your head your throat gets accustomed to it.

“Just like that.” His fingers comb through his long locks, falling back like dominos. It’s a pretty picture, animating you to go faster. Jungkook grabs your hand at the base of his cock. “Think you can take it deeper?”

You rest both hands against his thighs and relax your jaw as you push his cock further down your throat. A restrained moan echoes through the room as you stay like that. His heavy palm lies against the back of your head, but he doesn’t force you down on his dick. It’s just there, weighty, possessive.

When you pull his cock from your mouth, your chest is heaving deeply. A thin string of saliva connects you to his dick. You stroke his cock, wet and sloppy sounds filling the air again. He pats your hair, his eyes pools of fulfilled satisfaction.

“Come here.” Jungkook drags you up by your elbow. “Your knees will hurt.”

You’re barely on your feet when Jungkook hauls you onto the bed. A tiny squeal flies past your mouth as Jungkook straddles you. His face is pressed into the soft mounds of your boobs, little kisses skittered across the swell of your tits peeking out from the bra.

You giggle at Jungkook’s sudden shift in demeanour, his palm kneading your boob roughly.

“I love your tits.” His voice is muffled. He doesn’t bother to lift his head to talk.

“I know.” You run your fingers through the fluffy chaos on his head.

You gasp when you feel his other hand sneak in between your thighs. His pad runs up and down your clothed pussy.

“You’re soaked, baby.” He sucks on your skin as he continues to play with your pussy. You can’t stop the little whimpers escaping you. Jungkook’s finger teases your clit and your hips uncontrollably buck into his hand. “Gonna make you feel so good.” His bunny teeth graze over his freshly made mark on the swell of your tit.

“Jungkook,” you mewl. You can’t endure his teasing. You need more.

“Sit on my face.”

“Huh?”

His face looms over yours. “Want you to sit on my face with that pretty pussy of yours.”

He rolls onto his back next to you.

“Come here, baby.” He gently coaxes you to sit up.

“Jungkook, I dunno if-”

“Shh.” His hand reassuringly brushes over your thigh. “The only sound I wanna hear is you cumming on my face.”

His soft, gentle fingers are a stark contrast from Jungkook’s dirty words. But that’s what pulls you to him. You throw a leg over his body, pussy just above Jungkook’s face like he wanted.

“That’s it.” His breath fans over your skin and shivers rise, a trembling and anticipating moan leaving your chest.

Cold air hits your pussy when Jungkook flicks your panties to the side. But only for a second because Jungkook doesn’t let much time pass before his tongue dives between your folds.

You cover your mouth with your hand to suppress the moans that were about to elicit from you.

One hand is on your ass to spread you open as his wet muscle explores the depths of your aching pussy.

“So sweet,” Jungkook murmurs, voice low, desperate even. “Always so fucking sweet.”

He circles your clit, shocks of pleasure spark everywhere. Your head hangs low, lips tightly pressed shut to keep the moans away. You wanna scream his name, tell him how good he makes you feel, but all you can do is reach for his cock and stuff your mouth with his dick to keep you quiet.

The startled moan against your pussy sends you closer to the edge. His cock is heavy on your tongue as you suck him, his precum a familiar taste that fills your mouth. The noises ricocheting off the walls are utterly obscene and filthy, they make you fall into a haze of absolute lust and need for more, please more.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper against his cock. You suck on his angry red, mushroom tip to hinder more sounds coming from you.

Jungkook hums, his devious tongue lapping against your clit. He smacks your ass, a throaty rasp bubbling between his lips. It has you pinching your eyebrows together, your body teetering on the brink of the abyss, right before bliss is going to engulf you altogether.

With another sweep across your pulsating nub, your legs begin to shake. You nuzzle your head in Jungkook’s thigh, emitting uncontrollable breathy whines as every part of you gets swamped by excruciating glee.

“That’s my baby.” Jungkook plants a kiss on your ass, his hand roaming over your back.

You catch your breath, slowly rising again. Your breath shudders when Jungkook’s finger skips over your wet folds. “Sensitive,” you whine. You turn around to straddle him.

His rosy cheeks are tinged in a darker shade, lips and chin glistening with your juice. Jungkook’s hands naturally fall on your waist. He shifts a little so is back is flush against the headboard.

“You’re a little messy.” A shy smile plays on your lips. Jungkook grins knowingly.

His tongue peeks out to gather the remnants of your taste. You lean down to give him a chaste kiss, pussy brushing over his cock in the process.

You’re still sensitive because of the intense climax Jungkook pulled from you, but the feeling of his hard length rubbing against your folds has you grinding your hips.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” Jungkook curses at your wet pussy on his cock. His dick is prettily lying against his abdomen and you gently rock your pussy against it, his mushroom tip leaking with precum.

Jungkook leans toward the bedside table and opens the drawer. He comes up empty handed.

“There are no condoms left.” You’re on the pill, but sometimes Jungkook likes to be extra careful.

Habitually, Jungkook grabs a pillow from beside him and stuffs it between the headboard and the wall. It wouldn’t be the first time that you woke little Nabi up with the inconvenient sound of the headboard banging against the wall.

“As if you would mind.” You lift your hips to point his cock at your entrance, panties pushed to the side.

“I shouldn’t nut in you every time we fuck.” He helps to align his cock.

“I mean, you don’t have to.”

Jungkook remains silent. You giggle when no words leave his mouth. He loves to cum inside your pussy. Can’t help himself when your warm walls wrap around him in a tight hug.

You take his cock inch for inch. No sounds leave both of you, but the blistering pleasure contorts your faces. His entire length vanishes inside you. Your palms are on his broad chest, hips gingerly starting to sway back and forth.

“Jungkook,” you mewl in a small voice.

“Pussy so good,” he mumbles dreamily, eyes attached to the gold necklace around your neck.

It bounces with every move, the little initial on it sparking something in Jungkook that makes him want to have you like this forever. It’s a tiny twinkling J between your collar bones, but it unravels possessiveness across his chest, something fierce and stormy that forces him to dig his fingers into your skin.

You grind your hips faster, clit rubbing against him in desperate attempts to cum again. His cock is nestled deep inside you, stretching your little pussy wide open.

Jungkook’s eyes travel to your tits bounce within the confines of your bra. His hand reaches forward to tug one cup down, thumb tweaking at your pebbled nub, drawing a sharp hiss from you.

You teasingly flick at his nipple in return, making Jungkook twitch beneath you. With a smile on his face, he catches your wrist before you can repeat it.

A silly giggle flies past your lips. But it quickly fades when Jungkook’s finger rubs circles on your clit. “Oh!” Your brows knit. “That’s not fair,” you utter through a pout.

A wicked smirk tugs at his mouth. “Want you to cum around my cock.” His filthy words spur you own. “You can do that, right?”

“Yes,” you immediately say in a breathy tone, eyes fluttering close when Jungkook latches his mouth on your nipple, tongue wet and warm as he swirls it around.

With one hand he guides you along, your fingers grasping for his shoulders as you go faster.

“You look so fucking pretty.” The way he looks up to you beneath his eyelashes, face pressed between your tits, pulls a prolonged, desperate whine from you.

“So close.” It’s barely intelligible, a mumble of high-pitched words.

Everything’s too much and you come undone on Jungkook’s cock, walls clenching around him as your high overtakes you wholly. Your forehead falls against his shoulder, hands diving into his raven hair as you try to keep your moans at a low volume.

His palms grab handfuls of your ass. “That felt so good, didn’t it, baby?”

You nod against his shoulder, the aftershocks of it clouding your mind. You feel so weak but

Jungkook’s sweet nothings are like a fuzzy blanket comforting you.

Jungkook rolls the both of you around. You’re on your back, the soft duvet an inviting comfort.

Jungkook hovers above you, cock still buried deep inside you. Having his sweaty, ripped body dangling in front of you makes you salivate.

While he gently cups your head in his palm, he thrusts inside you harshly. His thumb strokes your bottom lip. Instinctually, you wrap your mouth around it, gently sucking on the pad of his thumb.

“Gonna fill you up,” Jungkook says, a restrained groan following. “Gonna fill you up so good, baby. Want your pussy full of my cum.”

“Please,” you whisper. “Want it so bad.” Jungkook’s hair sticks to his face. You tuck his wispy flyaway behind his ear.

Mindlessly, your fingers reach for the small pendant on your chest. You play with it, legs wrapping around Jungkook’s body.

A breathless rasp leaves Jungkook as he watches you toy with his golden initial. “All mine.”

Jungkook’s eyes are pools of determination and love. “You’re all mine.”

A crazy, lovesick, smile appears on your face.

Jungkook crashes his mouth on yours. It’s messy and uncoordinated, but your heart flutters.

“Cum with me.”

“Jungkook, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

His finger is back on your overly sensitive clit. You shake, nails digging into his back.

“Jungkook.”

“You’re gonna cum with me.” His pushes are relentless, driving his cock into you in fast paces. He puts pressure on your clit just the way you like it, drawing little circles on it.

Jungkook sneaks one hand on the back of your thigh and pushes your leg up. His dick reaches deeper and you’re sure you’re actually seeing stars.

Your high comes crashing down on you with full force, it’s unexpected and pulls a loud moan from you. Jungkook’s hips stutter as he spills inside you. He forces a few more deep pumps before he stills.

“Fuck.” Jungkook pulls his cock out of you. With one finger he keeps your panties to the side to see his cum stuffed in your pussy. “Love you with my cum inside you.”

You nudge his shoulder with your foot. “Go away.”

“I love you.” It’s a gentle whisper, sparks shining in his doe eyes as he watches you.

“Love you too.” You lift your head to give him a sweet kiss. Jungkook gives your boob a kiss in return, tugging the cup back up he had greedily lowered earlier.

Jungkook plops down beside you on the bed. He softly kisses your forehead.

“You should pee.”

“ ‘m sleepy.”

“Baby.” His voice is stern.

“Mhmm,” you sulk, but nonetheless, you stand up.

Your legs shake when you stand on your feet. Jungkook’s arm stretches to catch your hips.

“You good?”

A timid smile crosses your face. “Yeah.”

With wobbly legs you throw his flannel shirt over your skimpy clothed body on your way out.

“I can’t believe we were quiet enough for Nabi not to wake-”

A high-pitched scream reaches the bedroom.

“Nevermind,” Jungkook mumbles, rising to his feet.

You giggle as you watch him fetch his briefs.

Some things might never change.

[bobattef]

just for fun.

“It’s not even that serious, just for fun”

You tell your best friend for the umpteenth time as she rolls her eyes at your comment.

“Just for fun?” She repeats you, which makes you look back at the screen connecting your video call, was it delayed??

“Y/N…there’s so many reasons why you shouldn’t be doing this..” her serious voice comes over the speaker but you can’t help but smirk at her.

“Ergh, which is probably why you want to do this right? For the wrong reasons?” She asks you as you fake your offence at her words with a dramatic grab to your chest.

Yes, you were perhaps showing your rebellious side a little too much with this latest antic of yours.

But being brought up in the Stark family, it was almost inevitable that you would bend the rules.

And if there was a rule to say ‘don’t fuck around with any of your Dad’s work colleagues” then you’re definitely a rule breaker there.

*ping* 

Your phone lights up the same way your face does when you see who the message is from.

Completely ignoring your best friend asking if it was him, you open the message as your heart starts to pick up its pace.

Doll?

You awake?

He was never the best at messaging but then again he was over a hundred years old. 

“You’re not seeing him tonight are you?” Your best friend asks you as she sees a cheeky grin flash across your face, confirming her thoughts.

“Y/N! Your Dad is home” She almost shouts as you bring your fingers to your lips to shhh her.

Yes you were in your own room a whole floor above your Dad’s and Peppa’s bedroom but you never know how good a hearing they might have these days.

I’m up Soldier 😘

You type back to him as you quickly say your goodbyes to your bestie.

“Stay safe you absolute nut case!” She half laughed as she switched the end call button.

You quickly discard the over sized tee you had been lounging in as you rummage around for a better looking top.

You’ll keep your leggings on, one day you might meet up with him in a skirt or dress, I’m sure he’ll love you in one but for now it’s trousers of some kind seeing as you’ll be climbing out the window in a moment.

Your Dad gave you the best room available inside this compound.

Up and away from the others, it was almost an attic room only sharing its hallway with a storage cupboard on the end.

With massive floor to ceiling doors leading out to a balcony which was linked to the side alley of the building.

I mean, who wouldn’t choose to sneak out once in a while when it was set up so perfectly to do so.

ETA 23:05

You giggle a little at yet another blunt message as you carefully slide the door shut behind you.

A quick glance from left to right just in case anyone else was out for a midnight stroll, you hopped over the barrier and almost silently climb down the railings framing the side wall. You landed perfectly on that one soft part of grass to muffle the sound of your boots.

You’ve become a pro at this now, being the 6th or 7th time you’ve met up with the super soldier on the sly.

It always happens the same way, you’ll bid your good nights downstairs to him in the common room along with the rest of the avengers on camp and then a few minutes, sometimes hours later, your phone will ping with the same messages.

You wait in the shadows for him, you’ve always liked this part.

The hiding down the alleyways, the hushed voices, the standing flush against the wall with that cool metal hand of his wrapped around your mouth, keeping you quiet as you’ve had to wait for the coast to be clear.

You lean your head against the wall, looking up to the stars as the feel of the brick mixed perfectly with the rising heat of your body.

“Doll?” You can hear his smile through the whispering of his voice.

You know he can see you perfectly with his heightened senses but you can only make out it’s him by the faintest of light bouncing off his arm from the lamp post nearby.

You loved it when he didn’t cover it up.

“Waiting long?” He asks you but doesn’t give you much time to answer for his lips are already on yours.

You almost gasp into his mouth as his whole body leans into yours, pushing you further into the wall you were stood against. 

“Sorry” he grins at you as he pulls away, leaving one hand casing your face.

“Been a long day?” You ask him. You could always tell if it was a good or bad day by the urgency he gave you when you met up with each other.

Some nights you’ll just sit in the dark somewhere and talk absolute rubbish until it was almost dawn.

Other nights he could barley contain himself and would pounce on you as soon as he laid eyes on you.

He was one of the best kissers you had.

Despite him saying he was lacking experience giving his past, you longed for them each time.

You’re not sure what you wanted from this.

Yes, your bestie thought it was purely about hurting your Dad but you can’t lie and say you didn’t find the super soldier very attractive.

He stood out to you the first day your father had introduced him, he didn’t want to touch you, not even for a handshake as quoting his words ‘he thought you were made of glass’.

You quickly taught him just how tough you were when he watched you train with Nat.

You can’t even remember how this came about and yet it was only 2 weeks ago, if that.

You enjoyed being with him so you just left your thoughts at that as he grabbed at your leggings, pulling them down to the tops of your thighs.

“here?” You breathed, the feeling of his hands on you where you needed it most causing your voice to waiver.

“Here” he smiled at you before kissing you deeply.

Groaning slightly into your mouth as his fingers pushed inside you.

“Fuck doll, so wet already?” His deep voice against your lips sent shivers down your spine.

You expected him to lift your leg up, wrap it around his waist.

If he wanted it here then the best way was to fuck you up against the wall but he took you by surprise as he spun your whole body round, you were now facing the brick in front of you.

His fingers never leaving their place buried inside you, you were so focused on the feeling he was giving you with the teasing of his hand that you didn’t quite hear the undoing of his belt.

Only realising that he had his cock out when you felt the tip of it pushing against your ass cheeks.

You’ve lost count the amount of times you had both slept together in the small space of time you had been meeting up like this but you still were in awe at the size of him.

Pulling out of you with his fingers, he pushes your underwear to the side so he could line himself up with you.

You shuffle your feet slightly, parting your legs to widen yourself.

The gravel underneath your boots being the other sound apart from both your rapid breathing.

“Ready doll?” He whispers into your ear as he gently bites at your neck.

He’s not silly, he won’t make any obvious markings on you, no matter how bad he wants to. 

He makes a quick glance from left to right of either side of the alley, like it’s not too late to get out of this situation if someone was to catch the both of you.

He grabs your waist a little too tightly as he pushes his cock inside you.

You both groan out in sync.

He fills you to the base as he stalls his movements, feeling your walls contract around him to fit him inside you.

A quick kiss to your neck, that had already started to sweat a little, he pulls out of you just as slowly as he went in.

You want to push your ass outwards, not wanting him to leave you but you’re quickly taken by surprise as thrusts hard back inside you.

You moan out loud as you feel a hand of his grab you by the back of your neck.

“Shhh doll” he tells you as he jerks his hips up, pushing deeper.

You bite your lip as you know you have to be a lot quieter than you’re being right now.

“This…” he plants a kiss on your cheek as he starts to talk to you “is going…to be hard” he kisses your neck again “and fast…” his kisses become tiny nips at your skin “I’m going to need you to be very…” he trails his mouth down your neck “very… quiet for me ok?” He brings his gaze back up to yours “can you do that for me?” 

You bite your lip as all you could do in answer was to nod your head slightly.

You knew how hard he could go, you literally broke the camp bed you had both been fucking on a couple of nights before.

That was a difficult one to explain to the team.

“That’s my girl” he says to you as he kisses you

 hard once more.

Your lips are almost swollen by the time he’s finished and pulls away.

He adjusts his stance a little, pulling your hips out a bit further away from the wall so he can angle himself better.

You take a deep breath as you lean your head against your arm that was holding you up on the wall, balling your hand into a fist after that first deep thrust he gave you, wishing you could cry out.

He lands a slap to the flesh of your ass before picking up his pace.

The noise of his skin against yours was heavenly.

You honestly couldn’t care if someone else could hear this right now.

His pace was something else.

You don’t think you’ve ever been fucked this fast. You don’t think any one can fuck you this fast ever again.

The brutal force from his hips was causing your whole body to move alongside his.

If he wasn’t gripping so tightly onto you, you’re sure you would have been fucked into the wall rather than up against it. 

The movements were causing your arm to drag up and down the wall, the sting of the bricks biting at your skin, grazes forming across it.

You’re sure you can taste blood also as you bite harder into your own lip to stop yourself from moaning out loud.

And you just know the imprint from his hands are going to be left behind for a few days.

But you can’t feel any of that, you feel only him.

The way he’s reaching so deep inside you.

The way he’s holding onto you, like he never wants to let go.

The way he’s also struggling to keep quiet as your cunt grips him so perfectly.

You start to see stars as you’re sure he’s close also.

His hips start to falter their movements as his hands move away from yours, trying to grab at the flesh of your ass instead, as well as pulling on your hair to steady himself.

You want him to finish, you want to feel that familiar feeling of filling you up with his come but you also don’t want this to end.

You know it’ll only be a few more days, hell, could even be tomorrow night that you next see him but you still want to milk every moment with the commander.

“Fuuuuck” he makes one last stifled moan before almost collapsing against you, the whole weight of himself leaning into you causing you to almost face plant the wall. 

You laugh slightly as you’re pinned between him and the brick.

“I…Er..Bucky?” The strain of your voice causes him to come back down from his high.

“Sorry doll” he breathes out as stands up straight.

Pulling out of you as you feel his warm liquid start to drip down.

He tucks himself back into his combats as you can barely stay stood on your feet right now.

Turning round so you can lean your back up against the wall to better balance yourself whilst you pull your leggings up.

You notice him just staring at you as you try to catch your breath back.

“What?” You barley whisper out, feeling like the air had been fucked out of your lungs. 

“How you going to haul your ass back up that trellis?” He asks you, grinning from ear to ear.

“Ha..You can always carry me up?” you manage to say as he laughs.

[sarahfeliciam]

The Ultimatum Ch 50

Chapter 50

Sirius retired early that evening to Remus’ room, leavingTonks and Emeline to themselves on the couch. When they heard the door click shut, Tonks turned to her with a soft smile.

“Tell me everything.” She said plainly, not seeing the benefit to beating around the bush. “I want to hear it all; I know none of this has been ideal or easy.” She motioned for her to turn with her back to her and Tonks helped her do so slowly until she was sitting in front of her lap. 

She grabbed the hairbrush she’d brought out off the coffee table and began running the bristles from her scalp down to her shoulders slowly. Emeline closed her eyes at the calming feeling and remembered her mother doing the same as a child. 

She exhaled quietly and answered right away.

“I haven’t spoken a word to George,” she began, this issue the most pressing on her mind. “I haven’t the faintest clue what to say, but I desperately want to say something. I have a letter half written. Dad won’t let me travel right now, naturally.” She sighed and her shoulders slumped forward.

Tonks pulled them back gently to straighten her as she continued brushing her hair out, casting a quick mist charm for frizz. 

Emeline rested back into the methodic feeling of the brush running against her back, knowing Tonks was doing it in an effort to calm her, and decided to continue.

“As for this,” she motioned to her side and dropped her hands in her lap frustratedly. “Dad asks me everyday, Tonks; Every day if I’m alright, if I’m hurting, if I feel different… he looks at me like I could break at any moment now.”

“Well, do you?” 

She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost didn’t hear Tonks’ voice. 

She realized she’d stopped brushing and looked at her through the mirror Tonks conjured, which she now held in her hand.

“Do I what?” She whispered, stalling.

“Feel different?” 

Tonks’ hair was a dark plum now; she felt this conversation was sacred and she wanted Emeline to know she was taking it seriously. 

“Extremely.” Emeline finally divulged, knowing there was absolutely zero sense in lying to Tonks. “Everything is different. My senses are so insane now, I can hardly keep up. It feels like they shift every single day. I wonder if that will continue every month as the moon waxes and wanes… or is it a ‘newly affected’ thing?” She was musing out loud now but Tonks shrugged and smiled encouragingly.

“Dunno. All wonderful questions for your daddio, yeah?”

Emeline chuckled and shook her head.

“I feel so stupid asking him any of this; I haven’t said a word of it.”

“Stupid?” Tonks eyebrows crinkled together in confusion. “Why the hell would you feel stupid asking your father who’s been a werewolf practically his entire life?”

Emeline drew a long breath and exhaled as slowly as possible. Tonks waited patiently as she began braiding Emeline’s hair into a long plait. 

“Dad doesn’t look at this the way I do; I had to explain this to Sirius and I still feel I did a poor job at it. I’m only infected because I was dying. What dad gave me was a gift. I want to learn all of this and understand lyncanthropy and myself; I want to make him proud…But I never will.”

“Hey,” Tonks stopped immediately and stood to kneel in front of her. “How could you ever say that? You’re his whole heart.” She rested a hand on Emeline’s knee and she shook her head softly in response. 

“Tonks, his condition is a nightmare to him. He’ll think I’m positively off my rocker if I let on how I feel about it. So instead I-“

“-let on as though it’s agonizing?”

Emeline scoffed. “It is painful and I haven’t even had a moon yet. I’m going nuts with the sensory overload and I’m having an unusually difficult time keeping my emotions in check; it’s like I’m internally fighting someone. But yeah, I keep the positive spins on it that I tell myself in my mind, far away from dad.”

“Sounds like your lessons proved worth it, then.” She smiled, changing the subject. 

��You could say that. So, care to take the hot seat?” A playful glint flew across Emeline’s eyes and Tonks shook her head cautiously.

“I’m not sure.”

Emeline ignored her.

“You so like him, right? I’m right.” 

Tonks’ hair immediately shone as pink as her cheeks and she looked down at the floor.

“Oh, come on! Don’t be shy about it. I think it’s rather refreshing and I can tell he returns the fancy.”

“Oh, doubtful.” Tonks rolled her eyes. “It’s one step forward and five steps back with him.”

“That’s painfully accurate.” Emeline agreed, reaching for her mug of tea, which Tonks immediately intervened to grab for her.

“I do.” Tonks whispered. “And you’re alright with that?” She asked inquisitively, one eyebrow quirked.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I don’t have a monopoly over him.” She sipped her tea happily, blissfully unaware of how accommodating she was being. 

Tonks swallowed her nerves and tried not to show it in her features. 

“Well, you know. You just got him back and your mum…”

“I miss her.” Emeline responded quickly. “I miss her but she is never coming back; I’ve had three years to accept that. I always wondered what a proper family would be like when it was just mum and I…now I’ve got dad, and I know just how in love they were. I’ll never get a chance to see it between them, but I’d never deny him it in a new capacity. I want him to be happy.”

Tonks had tears threatening to spill over at this point and was only reprieved of it by Emeline’s added laughter.

“Besides, the testosterone is fairly high in this cottage, don’t you think? I’m outnumbered and it’s quite unfair.”

Tonks laughed loudly as she set back to work on finishing Emeline’s braid. 

As her fingers skimmed through her hair, and Emeline hummed a song she’d heard Remus hum before, she allowed her mind to wander.

A proper family?

“Emeline?” She asked softly when she came back down to earth.

“Yeah?” She halted her humming to answer.

“Talk to Remus. He’ll understand, I know he will.”

Emeline simply nodded, resuming her song quietly.

•

In the early morning, just after the sun had peeked above the clouds and fog was still heavy, Remus entered the cottage quietly. He was immediately met with the sight of his daughter and Tonks sound asleep on the couch, their heads at opposite ends and curled up in such a way that he had to assume Emeline would wake up in a great deal of pain. 

Regardless, as he hung his cloak, he couldn’t bring himself to wake them. He walked carefully over the blankets and empty wrappers across the floor and made his way to the kitchen. Though bloody exhausted, he was famished and knew they would be when they awoke. 

As he set the kettle to boil and ignited the fire to begin warming the cast iron, he sunk into a seat at the kitchen table and allowed his aching limbs to relax before he realized he’d never read the letter Saffron had delivered.

He removed it from his pocket gingerly and undid the envelope as quietly as he could. 

Whatever he’d been expecting, this had not been it, and he was not sure how to respond as the color drained from his face.

Emeline Mara Lupin,

It is with great sorrow that we must rescind your enrollment to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

Upon obtaining a copy of your registration ID, we’ve thoughtfully considered our position and simply do not have the accommodations for lyncanthropy throughout term.

I hope this letter finds you well,

Headmistress Dolores Umbridge 

Remus was unsure what was catching his attention more: the fact that Emeline could no longer attend Hogwarts or the fact that this was signed headmistress.

What the hell happened overnight? 

He folded the letter and shoved it back into his pocket, rather wishing he’d be caught dead than with that tidbit of information, should Emeline wake up. 

As he rubbed his temples, he decided to set back to work on breakfast and headed to the warmed skillet to crack some eggs.

He heard movement behind him but knew it was not the girls. As he turned, Sirius grinned happily.

“You look like a right housewife this morning, Moony. Love the smell of breakfast!”

“As usual.” He replied with an eye roll, throwing Sirius a slice of un-toasted bread.

“What’s the matter?” Sirius asked immediately, eyeing Remus suspiciously.

Remus glanced around and dropped his voice to a whisper.

“Hogwarts has expelled her.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Sirius whisper was slightly louder, to put it kindly, and Remus waved his hand around, shushing him immediately.

“They don’t have the accommodations for a werewolf.”

Sirius snorted.

“The Whomping Willow was planted for her father; no accommodations my ass! How the hell could Dumbledore be shammed into this?”

“I dunno, Sirius. I really don’t. But furthermore, he wasn’t! Umbridge is headmistress now.”

Sirius’ mouth opened and closed a few times as Remus turned back to the eggs, now fairly well done.

“That bitch!” Sirius yelled, regretting his volume immediately.

“I told you to never call me that again!” Emeline joked cheerfully, walking into the kitchen slowly as she held her side.

“Ha ha.” Sirius seethed with his own eye roll.

“Emeline, don’t ever even insinuate that.” Remus responded dismally. 

“Oh, calm down.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek and grabbed the first piece of toasted bread in the process. 

He didn’t respond to her as usual which made her stomach feel knotted and his own felt similiar. 

“Who are you lot on about?” Tonks asked, following closely behind her with the pain medication vial. 

Remus and Sirius stared back at them and blinked rather rapidly between them and each other, fumbling over their words as the kettle began to boil.

Remus felt off-balance and sicker still. 

Yet another instance of this condition affecting his little girl, already. He wanted to disappear rather than have to explain this to her. 

“Dad?” She asked curiously, drinking the pain potion down. She set the vial on the table when it was empty and waved her hand in front of his face. “Hello! Doomsday?”

He shook his head as the kettle went completely off and Tonks rushed to grab it. 

Sirius clapped him on the back and shoved him toward the kitchen table.

“Why don’t we all take a seat?” He offered.

Remus nodded and tried to fake a smile for his daughter as he pulled out her chair. Sirius and Tonks followed them to sit as Remus pulled the letter from his pocket once more with a slow inhale. 

He couldn’t find words as he slid it in front of her, tapping it with his finger and pulling his lips into a thin line.

Don’t cry

It’s all he repeated to himself as he watched her unfold the letter; studied her eyes changing as she read through the words and the wheels in her mind that she wore so easily on her face, shown through. 

She didn’t respond when he rested his hand over her wrist. 

She didn’t respond to Tonks asking what it was. 

She read the letter over… and over… and over. 

Then, he heard his own words from her mind:

Don’t cry

“Pup?” He finally broke the silence, still keeping his face even and his tone calm. 

Emeline’s hand shook slightly as she set the letter down and Tonks grabbed it up from the table now. There was one thought her mind kept taking her to: the basement the night of her and Remus’ fight after fourth year. 

The scene replayed in her mind on a broken track. She’d told him she wanted to be a Healer and his words haunted her now.

“You can forget it.”

They stung like a hot coal held to her skin and Remus felt it. He winced at the memory as she left her mind and emotions completely open and vulnerable. He fought harder not to cry now. 

He gently squeezed her wrist, attempting to pull her from her thoughts, but she ripped it from under his hand and stood quickly. Wincing in pain, she gripped her side, still ignoring everyone around the table’s attempts to speak to her or help.

“Leave me alone! All of you!” She choked out, rushing from the kitchen before her tears fell. 

Remus slumped back in his chair, staring blankly as Sirius shared a glance with Tonks, whose hair was a dusty old grey and eyes were somber. 

[drustvar]

Libet’s Delay || Finale

Starting the midsummer masquerade off with long overdue passionate monsterfucking. (Valdemar x afab reader; no gendered language)

Rating: Explicit (teratophilia, vaginal penetration, messy goo)  WC: 2,511 AN: I procrastinated forever on this and for that im sorry but hey. Valdemar finally gets to nut after being blueballed for months.  

Full text under the cut and on Ao3 here

As you step inside, it occurs to you that you’ve never seen Valdemar’s quarters. You didn’t think they even had a private room to themselves, after all they had no reason to. For however many years they had lived alone; servants would never dare venture into the basements, or even the floor that preceded it. The room you entered was simple, but elegant. There was a small fireplace and several rows of cabinets, built of the same dark wood as the front doors. The door locks behind you as you take everything in. Valdemar brushes past you, humming quietly. What was most surprising was that there was a bed. A simple wrought iron frame; more or less a slightly larger version of the beds found in infirmaries.

“I thought you didn’t sleep?” You ask as Valdemar picks through a drawer filled with records.

“I don’t have to sleep,” they say. “But that doesn’t mean I never do. It’s my understanding that all creatures, mortal or not, enjoy the occasional nap.” They meet your eyes and smile as they place a record and set the needle. The music that starts to play is quiet, and sounds faintly distorted, as if it was a recorded memory instead of sound. You wonder if it was made that way or if it had simply been played so often it had been worn down. Your eyes drift over the walls as Valdemar starts to search through the shelves of a liquor cabinet, their long fingers passing over faded labels.

The wallpaper is equally as faded, and appears at one time to have had a pattern of some sort, but has since been lost to time. Scattered along the walls are frames, some holding what appear to be small portraits, others have articulated skeletons of small creatures, one holds a bat and the other what you could only guess was a pixie.

“Remove your clothes, little one,” Valdemar says as they press a small flute filled with wine into your hands.

“Oh, right,” you murmur. You’d been so intent on taking in your new surroundings you’d almost forgotten the reason why they’d brought you here. They watch, leaning back against the liquor cabinet as you slip your various trimmings and trappings off, before long you hold a bundle of clothes as you look around, unsure of where to put them.

“On the floor is fine,” they nod at the tile, a faint smile on their thin lips.

“Oh, okay,” you say, letting the clothes drop unceremoniously to the floor. You could  already feel a flush beginning to rise on your skin, the heat pooling between your legs as Valdemar circles you, their red eyes eating up every inch of your nude form. You let out a surprised squeak when Valdemar pulls you into their arms from behind you, nestling their chin on your shoulder.

“Have I ever expressed what a delectable specimen you are,” their voice sends shivers down your spine as their hands roam over your body. The faintest whisper of a kiss presses against your jugular, and you sigh as their hands come to rest over your chest. The cold latex of their gloves makes goose pimples rise on your skin and your nipples perk up. You lean against them, letting out a small, whimpering sigh as they brush your pert skin with their cool palms, toying with you just enough to make you squirm.

“Val-”

“Ah, are you cold, pet?” They ask, their breath icy against your skin. “Why not make yourself comfortable under the covers,” they point one of their long fingers at the bed. As much as you’d like to curl up under the blankets, between Valdemar’s touch and the low temperatures of the basement floor, you were freezing. But you didn’t want to leave their arms, you were afraid that if you did, they’d inexplicably vanish. Leaving you alone with that quiet, lonely record.

“Do not be shy. I promise, my bed is quite comfortable.” You obey and slip from their embrace. They were right, their bed was comfortable ‒ when you sit on the edge you practically sink into it. They watch as you flounder for a moment with amusement glittering in their eyes. They sip their own wine slowly, as if they’d never really drunk before and meant it; as if they’d only ever mimicked the action of drinking and not its actual purpose. And wonder of wonders, you watched in awe as they turned away from you and ever so slowly, began to undress. You’d never seen them naked, not even in so much as a bathrobe. They were always covered, crisp white clothes that seemed meticulously and perfectly tailored. You’d sometimes wondered if their clothes were even real, or just an extension of the glamor they used to take on a humanoid form. But apparently not, as layer by layer was slowly stripped away, revealing more and more pale, greenish skin. You could see faint freckles dappling across their shoulders and down their back. It was cute, even if their “bones” seemed to jutt too sharply out of their skin. Pointed, bony angles interrupted by a few seemingly out of place squishy spots, almost as if they hadn’t decided just how they wanted their form to look under their clothes. Your hands itched to roam all over every inch of it. Even if it wasn’t their true self, even this much was something so new, something so vulnerable. Valdemar let out a quiet sigh, and began to undo the bindings of their hennin. That for sure you’d never thought you’d see them without—it had seemed in the time you’d known them, their face and head were something they seemed to have the least control over in terms of hiding with their glamor (although they’d never admit it). Limp, murky colored hair fell down over their shoulders and back as they daintily set down the headpiece on the cabinet.

“Were you expecting horns, perhaps?” They said, smirking as they met your eyes.

You didn’t know what you had been expecting. They seemed so much smaller, more fragile. If it weren’t for the slight deformities in their glamor, you’d have never guessed an eldritch being was standing naked in front of you. And that in itself was strange enough — aside from small, almost breasts, their body was smooth, their anatomy not unlike a mannequin or a porcelain doll. Though you knew that wasn’t quite the case.

“Aren’t you cold,” they asked, the way they moved to sit on the bed was so unnatural, as if their joints could move 360 degrees; watching it made you shiver with anticipation. “Wouldn’t you like to be warm?” They asked, tilting your chin up.

“Yes.” The room was so quiet, even with the distorted record, but even so the needy whisper you spoke in felt louder than it really was.

Valdemar grinned, and easily sent you backwards with a small push to your shoulders. You yelp as you fall back against the pillows, and are then suddenly enveloped in blankets, Valdemar pulling them around both of you as they press you against their chest. The blankets were surprisingly soft and warm, you had expected them to be the same thin linen as the ones on your own bed. Maybe they were, and you were so drunk on the unexpected closeness, the unexpected playfulness of your partner that your brain just made them seem far more wonderful.

Just that would have been fulfilling, your heart felt fuller than it had in weeks. But just snuggling clearly wasn’t all they had had planned. Valdemar’s fingers tangled in your hair, firmly tilting your head back as their lips found your throat. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as their sharp teeth brushed over your veins, slowly moving down from your jaw, their tongue darting out to brush against the dip of your collar, making you shiver. You grabbed desperately at them, trying to touch everything that was so new; the back of their neck, their long hair, it was driving you crazy.

“Patience, patience,” Valdemar’s voice was cool against your hot skin. You whimper as they press a bony knee between your legs for you to grind down on. Soon enough one of their hands slips slowly, torturously down your abdomen to replace their knee. You bury your face against their throat, trying to muffle the small wail you let out when their cold fingers probed you.

“So wet already? My,” they pushed in, making you squirm. “And so frustrated too, how negligent I’ve been.”

Much to your upset, they withdrew their fingers, placing one hand on your shoulder and the other on your hip, rolling you both over.

“Close your eyes,” their command is soft, whispered against your skin. This part was familiar, when they’d reveal part of their true self to properly fuck you.  How you wished you could see them, really see them, but anytime you tried had resulted in an intense migraine at best. You obey, relaxing back against the pillows with a sigh. The familiar, wet crackling that sounded like bones being ground in a mortar made you shiver. You knew it was part of their abdomen, just below their ribs and extending to where their genitals would be; were they human, splitting open into a mind bending chasm. You so wished you could see more, see the self they spent so much time hiding. Cool, slick tendrils wrap around your thighs, pulling your legs apart and preventing them from closing; not that you’d have tried.

“So obedient, so pliable,” Valdemar murmurs, their chest pressing against yours. You hadn’t expected this, you had expected that after such heavy petting they would sit back and toy with you like they usually did...but their arms slipped under your torso, hugging you close. Hugging you like a person would. Asra had been right, they wanted to do their best, they really did love you.

“You may open your eyes now,” their voice was a soft and surprisingly warm whisper against your skin. Before you could say anything, one of the tendrils pushed easily inside of you, making you shiver and whine. It quickly thickens, straining wonderfully against your walls. Valdemar’s eyes gleam as they watch you roll your hips and gasp for them. You didn’t think eyes that belonged to something that’s true self was too horrific and unknowing to describe could be so adoring. The tendril starts to piston in and out, slowly and steadily. What’s more, their hips actually move as well, rolling up against your own.

Neither of you speak, but words aren’t really needed. The only sounds are the record, the creaking of the iron bed frame, and the wet sounds of your bodies. You wrap your arms around them and hug them close, your fingers tangling in their murky colored hair. They trace your jaw with their tongue, making  you squirm and giggle. The pace is steady and easy, and just as you’re contentedly sighing and relaxing in their arms, a new sensation pulls you back. Another tendril, this one broad and flat like a tongue, laps at your clitoris. Just as it does, the tendril inside picks up speed and morphs, pronounced bumps replacing the smooth texture.

You whine and squirm, trying both to escape the stimulation and seek more of it. Valdemar holds you fast against them, forcing you still.

“You wanted to be close, did you not?” They cluck their tongue at you, their grin almost mocking. “I can’t have you squirming away.”

All you can do is gasp and arch your back as their tendril pumps harder.

“Use your words,” they murmur as one of the other tendrils wrapped around your thighs traces idly down your abdomen.

What do you even say? ‘Thank you, I love you,’ is what you want to say, but with what their tendrils are doing to you you don’t think you could begin to annunciate a full sentence. From the way they’re grinning down at you you’re sure they can already tell they’ve stolen your voice.

“You unravel so easily,” they chuckle and nuzzle into the crook of your neck. The tongue-tendril stops lapping and instead begins to suction, and in doing so completely throws you over the edge. You’re so thankful that your lover is stronger than they look, the way you writhe and scream as they make you cum would surely throw a human partner onto the floor.

As you start to come down you realize the penetrating tendril hasn’t stopped, in fact it's pounding harder and faster. You wonder if this is going to become like some of the trysts you’ve had before, where they push you so far into ecstasy you can’t breathe and your face is tearstained. But no, to your surprise, they jerk forward, bending you both double as the faintest of moans is pressed  against your neck as they finish. It's warmer than you were expecting, and as their tendrils withdraw back into their chasm you can feel it seeping out, slimy against the heat of your thighs. It’s filthy, but erotically so. They’re already rolling over and hugging you to their chest, preventing you from getting a glimpse of the mess or of their body. The sound of their heavy breathing is drowned out by the same sound of bones grinding as the chasm in their abdomen seals shut again.

You happily cuddle up to them. This too was something new, post coitus before had usually consisted of praise and head pats, being gently cleaned before being carried to your room and tucked into bed. It was nice, but this was better.

“Are you okay,” you ask as you trace their collarbone.

“I am perfect,” Valdemar murmurs as they take your hand and press their lips to its back. You can’t help but smile. It makes you giddy to see this side of them, a side no one else ever has; one that’s tender and attentive.

“This is nice. That was nice.”

“Even with the mess I’ve made?”

You glance down at where your legs intertwine with theirs. It looks like a case full of india ink has been spilled everywhere.

“Maybe we just use sheets that aren’t white.”

“With enough time we could easily dye these ones.”

“Gross!” You laugh as they nip your neck. You’d never seen them like this; it was everything you could have hoped for.

“Please don’t hesitate to tell me if I’m being forgetful,” they murmur as they cradle you close. “As I said before, this is…very new to me. This connection, these feelings. They can be…frightening, in a way.”

“Yeah, they can be,” you say as you rest your head under their chin.

“But I never want to be neglectful. You’re too dear to me for that,” their voice is soft, almost timid. You take their hand in yours and squeeze it gently.

“You’re dear to me, too. And for what it's worth, I wouldn’t call it neglect. Just a delay.”

[moeyy-writes]

Music to My Ears

Zak Bagans x Fem!Reader, Billy Tolley x BestFriend!Reader

Warnings: just a flicker of angst, otherwise it’s just goofy shenanigans with some light fluff.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: This is an unofficial continuation of the “Prank Wars” fic/drabble series. If anyone has any suggestions for pranks to write about, I’m all ears. :)

My Full Master List

You sipped your iced coffee as you waited for Billy, Zak, and Aaron to head towards the car. Jay offered to stay behind at the hotel and fix a few of the broken cameras. So, you were going to pick up some dinner for him on the way back.

“C’mon slow pokes! I’m hungry!” you whined playfully as Billy approached you. You waited just outside the front doors of the hotel, staring through the opened, glass automatic doors at your approaching friend and your husband.

Billy nudged you, grinning. Oh, boy, what now? He pulled on the straw to his iced coffee very slowly, letting out a hollow scraping sound that was like nails on a chalkboard. You grinned.

“The sound that drives Zak Bagans crazy,” he whispered, winking. You nodded.

“Wait until we get in the car. I’ll follow your lead,” you muttered back, returning his gesture. You both laughed in agreement.

“What’s so funny, babe?” Zak asked as he wrapped his arm around your waist. You shook your head.

“Nothing. Just an inside joke,” you responded innocently, kissing his cheek. “Now c’mon, I’m getting super hungry, and you promised me true Chicago pizza.” Your husband laughed and rolled his eyes, then turned the two of you towards the car.

Once the four of you were in your seats, Billy put the van in drive, and headed for the restaurant. You were seated behind Zak, where Jay usually sat, gently running your fingernails up and down the back of his neck. It wasn’t sexual, at least not like this. No, this was something that soothed him and relaxed his otherwise racing mind, and neither of the guys even questioned it.

He leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath. Billy glanced over at you, holding his drink on one hand and the steering wheel in another. You simply grinned, to which he nodded.

He leaned toward his drink to take a quick sip. As he lifted his head back up, he pulled the straw up, unleashing a low screech that filled the car. The moment Zak heard the sound, his shoulders shot up, tensing.

“Gah! Really, Bill? God, I hate that noise.” Zak scrunched his nose and peered away. Billy just smiled and took another sip.

You leaned back into your seat since Zak was too far to reach now, and sighed. Then, you lifted your drink to your lips and took a sip, allowing the straw to stick to your bottom lip, releasing another awful squeak.

“Y/N!” Zak boomed. You just chuckled.

“Sorry, babe. It was an accident,” you mumbled. Aaron chuckled beside you, peering up from his phone. Billy glanced back at you again and smiled, then he turned up the radio.

The beginning of Queen’s Somebody to Love was playing, giving you an idea. Billy grinned to himself, somehow agreeing telepathically. That’s why he was your best friend.

He started toying with his straw as it sat in the cupholder beside him. He pulled it up and down, making noises that were almost perfectly in rhythm with the instrumental part of the song. Oh, he was talented.

Once the vocals started, you tried your hardest to move your straw in sync, not doing quite as well as Billy. But, you were close, and that’s all you cared about.

Zak’s whole body tensed, and he slammed his hands over his ears.

“What circle of Hell have I just entered?! Gahh!” Zak shrieked as he shook his head. Aaron cackled hysterically beside you and danced to your horrid orchestra of squeals.

You sang along with the piercing shrills, which apparently sent Zak over the edge.

“Stop the car,” Zak growled. Billy laughed but let go of his straw.

“Aw, babe, you don’t like my singing?” you whined as you leaned forward, holding onto the seat in front of you.

“Stop. The. Car.” Zak clenched his jaw. For a moment, your stomach flipped. Was he really that mad? Sure, he was sensitive, but he never truly got mad at you for pranks. This wasn’t even close to the worst thing the two of you had done to him. But this time, he seemed genuinely pissed.

“Dude, calm down. We’re just messing with you,” Billy snapped back, sensing your concern as he shot you another look. You were slowing at a red light, and a small part of you hoped Zak wouldn’t fly out of the car the moment you stopped.

“Do you two want me to go deaf? Or completely nuts?” Zak’s tone was serious, but you couldn’t help but laugh, instantly feeling a little better.

“Well, you’re already nuts, Zak,” you poked, hoping for a smile. You got one, along with an eye roll.

“You married me,” he retorted with a dry chuckle. You laughed at that, his relaxing tone calming you again.

“I didn’t know you guys were so musically talented,” Aaron commented beside you.

“Thanks, man. We have band rehearsal twice a week,” Billy joked, picking up his drink again. Zak eyed him with a glare.

“If that straw makes even the faintest noise, I’m throwing it out the window,” Zak hissed as he stared out of his window. Billy chuckled just as he took a sip, nearly sending coffee straight out of his nose.

“Okay, Bagans, let’s get you some food. We’re almost there. You get cranky when you’re hungry.”

Zak rolled his eyes again. “Yeah, especially when my very sanity was just pushed to the brink of nonexistence.”

“Sorry, hun,” you whispered to him, running your fingers down the back of his neck again. He didn’t pull away, which made you smile. “Billy and I will save our band practice for when you’re not around,” you teased. Zak huffed a sharp sigh and leaned back into your touch.

“I’d appreciate it,” he muttered with a smile as the car pulled to a stop.

“Now let’s eat. I’m starving,” you muttered as you opened your car door. The moment you lifted from your seat, you were met by Zak’s tall, muscular frame. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and lightly squeezed you. “I’m not mad.” Another kiss on your forehead. “But when we get in there, neither of you are allowed to have a straw.” You busted into laughter and pulled away.

“Oh, so I’m on straw probation?” You cocked an eyebrow.

“For lack of a better phrase, yeah. You are.” His arm slithered around your shoulders and he led you toward the building.  

Thanks for reading! Feedback is appreciated. <3

[whumperooni]

nesting, pt. ii

Pairing: Keigo x Sister!Reader

Tags/Warnings: tw incest, tw breeding kink, tw pregnant reader, tw dubcon, nursing, mention of breastfeeding (just a tiny bit), fingering, shame, praise, depression and self-deprecation, yan keigo

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: This is a reupload of an already answered request! I’m editing some of my longer ones and reposting them so I can organize my masterlist a bit easier! You can find the original one here

Part one is here

Ask box | Rules/Info Page | Inspo Tag | Ao3 | Masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You’re disgusting. You’re so ugly.

Tears roll down your cheeks as you look in the mirror and take in the sight of your bulging belly, your fattened breasts and thighs and puffy ankles. You’re so big now- swollen with your big brother’s clutch and softer than ever, bigger and squishier than you ever imagined you would become.

Pregnancy glow? What a load of crap.

Maybe that’s just reserved for people who haven’t been drenched in sin.

You swipe at your tears and you sniffle over the way your tank top struggles to fit. Keigo won’t let you wear anything loose anymore- he likes how big you are,  he goes nuts over the visible evidence of the way he bred his little sister.

You just want to hide away from it all.

There’s the sound of a door opening and closing in the distance and you quickly try to scrub the tears from your eyes, wince as footsteps grow closer.

He’s home.

Multiple locks tumble loudly as Keigo undoes them and you hurriedly scramble to the nest, just barely get your bottom sat down before he strides in.

Keigo grins at you only for his face to falter and you flinch in worry whenever he takes a silent step closer.

He doesn’t like seeing you upset. He’s going to get mad, again, and you’re going to have to deal with some form of punishment.

Again.

(Keigo’s gotten a lot more volatile since he claimed you.

You miss your carefree, loving older brother who coddled you and made you feel safe)

“What’s with the tears, baby? You not happy to see me?”

Yes. No. He’s the only person you see anymore- it’s pathetic how you look forward to him coming home just so you’re not alone with your thoughts and worries.

You try to smile, but all you can do is cry- pathetic and upset and unable to keep up with the tears streaming down your cheeks. You sob and you whimper whenever Keigo sits himself behind you, let yourself be pulled like a weak doll against his chest as he wraps his wings around your trembling form.

“Hey, hey- what’s wrong? What’s got my mate so upset?”

His mate. Disgusting. You’re his little sister- not his mate.

Though, the eggs in your belly would say otherwise.

You weep even louder- hormonal, anguished, angry and depressed. The stroke of his hand to your hair does little to soothe you, but you still burrow against his chest in search of comfort, hate yourself as you do.

You don’t want to be like this. You want your older brother back and you just want to be normal again.

“Sis? Hey, come on- what’s wrong?”

He’s so gentle as he asks and, for a second, it’s almost like he’s your big brother again. It makes you weak and you sob more against him, curl your fingers into his shirt and shake.

“I- I’m fat and I’m- I’m ugly and I- I’m disgusting! I’m gross!”

Big tears stream down your cheeks and soak his shirt. You can’t bring yourself to care about any repercussions for your upset and all you can do is shake and weep against Keigo’s chest.

Over your tears, there’s the faintest noise from your big brother and you whimper as his arms tighten around you.

“Oh, baby...”

The murmur is so gentle, sweet. It makes it hurt worse, his tender tone, and it makes you even weaker, keeps you from wincing whenever he kisses your hair. You don’t resist when he tilts your head up and you don’t do anything more than cry and sniffle when he cups your face, looks at you so lovingly that it has you aching.

It’s like when he used to comfort you before- before when he was your big brother and not your captor, before when you were just his little sister and not his bred prisoner.

“Baby, you’re not ugly at all,” he murmurs, thumbing away your tears. “You’re so beautiful, so lovely.”

He couples the word with a soft smile and you cry harder, shake your head.

“I’m g-gross. I’m- I’m a blob!”

He huffs, but he doesn’t look angry or upset- at least from what you can see through your wet, blurry vision. His lips find your forehead and you sniffle again- louder and more pathetic, snotty from all of your dismay and bubbling distress.

“You’re gorgeous,” he insists, thumbs swiping away at more rolling tears. “You’re always gorgeous.”

“I’m not! I’m not!”

Your sobbing denial comes with harder crying, a flash of hurt going across Keigo’s face. Before he can say anything more, you burrow your face into his neck- pressing against him in a desperate sort of way that you haven’t done since he took you in his rut, made you into this pathetic wreck.

You’ll regret it later, probably. But right now? Right now you need some sort of comfort- even if it is from him.

His arms tighten around you even more and you tremble in his hold, don’t register the upset noise that leaves him or the way his wings wrap around you even more.

“Baby, baby...”

The murmured words that would have made you want to scream before only have you sniffling and pressing against him even more. Keigo’s lips press against your hair and his hands hold onto you tight, his lips move in quiet whispers that you can’t hear over your blubbering.

He lets you cry. There’s none of the punishment that you had feared- only comfort and sweetness, a gentle consolation that leaves you dizzy and overwhelmed.

“My mate, my sweet mate...you’re not- I promise you’re still beautiful. You’re so pretty, baby. So lovely. I love you. I love you so much. I love how you look.”

A hand slides down to your bulging stomach and you whine into the crook of his neck, shake your head. He shushes you, quietly, and tilts your head up with his other hand, presses a kiss to your forehead, both your cheeks.

You don’t pull away when his lips find yours- you just tremble and let it happen.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles against your lips. “You’re just growing, baby, and you’re doing it so well- I know our chicks are going to turn out so pretty like you.”

Pretty? Like you?

You’re not pretty. Keigo’s always been the pretty one- even before you got like this.

His hands smooth over your stomach and his lips press against yours again, mold in a sweet way that they haven’t quite done before. It’s so gentle compared to the hungry, greedy, possessive kisses he’s forced onto you before and you can’t help but shake, sniffle out more tears as you cling to him.

“Pretty mate,” he whispers. “Pretty girl.”

You want to deny him- you do. But the praise makes you whine instead and you shudder when his lips trail down to your jawline, smooth to your throat. Your head tilts back before you can help it and you squeeze your eyes shut- tears still slipping down your cheeks and strangled, soft noises leaving you.

You want to feel pretty. You want to feel wanted. Keigo is the only one who could want you like this; he’s the only one that would whisper praise against your skin while you’re so bloated and puffy eyed and upset.

Your big brother is the only person that could love you like this.

In fact, he’s the only person that loves you- even if it’s twisted and disgusting, perverted and sinful.

He’s the only person that’s ever going to love you.

A sob wracks through you at the realization and you let yourself be gently pushed onto your back, look up at your big brother through your wet lashes. He smiles at you- gently, sadly- and another sob leaves you, your hands reach up to him in a desperate way you’ll hate yourself for later on.

Keigo catches one of your hands and he brings it to his lips, kisses your fingers with a devotion that has your whole word quaking.

“I’ve never seen you look so gorgeous,” he murmurs, lips moving over the back of your hand and to your wrist. “You’re radiant.”

Radiant? No one has ever called you that. You’re not- you’re not. But...

“Ni- nii-san...”

The whine leaves you before you can think about holding it back and his eyes close, a soft groan leaves him. Keigo places another kiss to your wrist and then he lets your hand drop, leans down until he can nuzzle at your neck.

You don’t do more than whimper when he noses down to your breasts, shiver when his thumbs slowly smooth over your sensitive nipples. Keigo pulls your tank top down in a cautious sort of way that you’re absolutely not used to from him and you shudder from the consideration he’s gracing you with.

You squirm when you’re bared to him and squeeze your eyes shut in shame, bite your lip and stifle a whine when his hands cup your swollen breasts.

“They’ve gotten so big,” he sighs out- soft and happy. “Full of milk for our chicks.”

The way his tongue laves over your nipple is almost soothing and a horrible mewl leaves you whenever his lips latch onto it, gives a suck.

You’re so sensitive now- body wracked by your live-wire hormones and your overwhelmed emotions. It takes only a second for your breathing to turn stuttered and your fingers twitch against the padding of the nest, there’s an urge to curl your digits into his hair that you’re able to just barely resist.

“Could suck on these all day,” he mumbles- your nipple still in his mouth, his tongue jostling against it and making you squirm, making your breath hitch. “Love them, baby. I love them.”

“Nii-san...”

He groans, again, and he sucks your nipple, switches to the other to lay his attention on it as well.

It’s a betrayal to yourself how you arch up, but you’re already lost to it all- your hormones, your need to feel wanted, your desperation to forget for just a moment that you’re not what he’s saying but a disgusting mess instead.

He murmurs something but it’s lost against your flesh, lost underneath the whine that leaves you. Keigo oh so gently scrapes his teeth against your hardened peak and whimper leaves you as you feel a heat light down low.

You don’t fight it whenever his hand rubs over your stomach and sneaks down low. You don’t fight the way your legs part for him and you don’t fight the quiet, quiet moan that leaves you whenever he cups your mound. His finger hooks your panties to the side and slips through your slit. There’s a pause to his nursing, an upset whimper from you whenever his lips pull from your tit as he lifts his head. He looks down at you- surprise on his face, his expression blurred from your still teary gaze- and you whimper again when he blinks, whenever his eyes widen ever so slightly.

“You’re wet,” he breathes out, finger finding your clit and stroking it so your gasp. “Oh, baby...”

The way he says it is so- so- so happy. So pleased. So full of praise.

Your lashes flutter in some unwanted creep of joy and you turn your head away from him in shame, squeeze your eyes shut as your bottom lip wobbles and your heart pounds hard.

His finger works over you as he watches you in wonder and you whimper, squirm from his ministrations. Whenever Keigo slides a finger inside you, a whine slips from your lips and your back arches, your swollen belly brushes against his lean one.

Some part deep in the back of your mind screams over how unfair it is that he gets to stay toned and gorgeous while you’re forced to become a large, waddling blob. It’s something that doesn’t quite get to surface, though- not with the starry burst of heat that flames through you whenever his finger curls and brushes over your sweet spot to make you gasp and mewl.

“Fuck. Good girl, good mate. God, you look so pretty.”

Pretty. You’re not- you’re not-

You want to be pretty.

A sniffle leaves you and his lips find your nipple again, he begins to nurse your oh so tender tit. It’s needier, almost feverish but still careful and you can’t help the clench you give to his finger, you can’t help reaching up and curling your digits into his hair as he slides another inside you.

The room is starting to fill with sounds of your wavering, upset, overwhelmed, needy whimpers. The room is starting to fill with the wet shlick of his fingers and the soft, muffled groans that slip from him.

You gasp and whine his name whenever his thumb finds your clit and you tug on his hair without meaning to, press his face tighter against your breast. The way his fingers begin to pump in and out of your shamefully wet pussy has you trembling and you throw your head back as your hips try to move in a stuttered motion against his hand.

“That’s it,” he mutters- so encouraging as he laves his tongue over your nipple in between the words. “Such a sweet little sister- such a good girl.”

Little sister.

Tears spill down your cheeks with a renewed vigor but you’re not able to stop the way you chase after hazy pleasure, the desperate need to fall into something that will help you forget everything.

He ruts against your thigh and you shake your head when you feel him pull back to take his cock out, look up at him through your tears as he pulls down his zipper.

“The babies! You’ll hurt-”

You choke on the words before they can fully leave you- eyes going wide and a hand slapping over your mouth in disbelief.

You...when did you start to...when did you start to care about your big brother’s clutch growing inside of you? When did you start to care about the chicks that are distorting your body, bloating you with the sin of your big brother’s deeds?

Keigo stares down at you- golden eyes wide for a moment before they soften, before something loving fills his expression. You cry whenever his hand cups your wet cheek, fall apart even more as you try so hard to swim through all your mismatched, contrasting feelings.

“...look at you,” he murmurs, thumb caressing your cheekbone and smoothing away your tears. “Such a good mama.”

Mama. You’re- oh, god you are a mama.

A choked sob leaves you and you press your lips against his when he moves to kiss you, fumble your hands over his back and wings until you can curl your fingers tight into his hair once more. He shudders as you kiss him back and his hands press firmly against your cheeks, his breathing grows just a bit ragged whenever he rests his forehead against yours and look down at you with adoring eyes and flushed cheeks.

“I won’t hurt you,” he promises. “I won’t hurt the chicks.”

How can you believe the words of someone that took you against your will? How can you believe the words of someone that’s kept you captive so long?

You can’t, but you want to- you want to believe, desperately, that your big brother is going to be good to you- that he’ll make his sins easier to deal with, that he’ll love you and care for you even in his crazed possession.

You’re giving into him, into the situation.

...but what else can you do?

You sniffle and Keigo kisses you again, noses against your cheek and then burrows his face into your neck.

“Won’t go inside,” he mumbles, hips canting and dripping cock rocking against your plush thigh. “Won’t hurt you. Won’t hurt our babies.”

The promises almost makes everything better.

You whine- so much softer than before- and your head moves in a weak, horrible nod. The compliance has your big brother shuddering against you and his lips find your nipple again, latch on as his hand moves back to your cunt, rubs against you and makes you arch.

“I love you, baby. I love you so much.”

You sniffle at the muffled words and you sniffle at your tears, the shameful pleasure building inside you, your weak and pathetic break that has you accepting all this instead of fighting like you should.

You sniffle, again, and nod as Keigo’s humping gets a little faster, squeeze your eyes shut tight as a tingle shoots through your breast, as your big brother gets the first taste of your milk.

“I- I love you too, nii-san...”

Keigo moans and you shudder as you rock your hips against his fingers, as you fall deeper into the twisted shambles that your life has become.

[bunathebunny]

do-it-yourself magic

In which Marinette moves to Gotham, opens a craft store and still the LifeTM still does not give up on her.

For Maribat Platonic November Day 20 - Store

@maribat-platonic-november

Setting shop in Gotham might be a terrible idea with the fact that robberies happen on a daily basis and almost every store here has been broken in at least once. And that is not to mention the resident birds and bats that seem to be paranoid to the highest decree.

“Hello, welcome to Miracle Crafts,” she smiles, oozing charm as the bell by the door chimes as an elderly woman pushes the door open, “How may I help you today?”

It might seem odd that a designer on the up-and-coming seeks a small shop in the least-desired place on Earth to set up shop. And in this case, a shop that sells crafts and supplies.

“My grandchild has gotten into knitting,” she says, “I was wondering if you could help me find some yarns and needles.”

“Of course,” she chirps, “Please follow me.”

At her core, Marinette is a creator. She draws and doodles and designs and does some silly projects just for her own amusement.

Her Guardian duties are an important part of her life but her love for creating arts is just as important. She cannot imagine a world where she has to choose between them.

And of course, a compromise is reached. Marinette can craft to her heart’s content while casting small healing spells that might just cover the city much faster than she can on foot.

Her crafts are brimming with magic, the kind that protects against the terrible luck that runs rampage in Gotham. She slips it in when she is carefully forming and shaping it.

And the supplies she sells have just the faintest trace of magic. Those little specks of magic would click together when the supplies are used and band together into something akin to an invisible protection charm.

No one knows but words on the streets say that if one of the DIY crafts given to you as a gift came from Miracle Crafts, luck would see you through the hardest trial. They say that those are tiny lucky charms that would help you find what you never know you need.

Marinette hides her smile behind her sleeve when she hears one of the regulars whispers to their friend.

-

This would come sooner or later, she muses. Nothing stays hidden forever.

One careless word and her store goes up in flames. And why?

Because that miserable clown thinks that she is interfering with whatever pissing contest he has with the Big Bad Bat. Boo hoo!

“This won’t stand!” she curses, shaking her fist at the knocked out clown that is being carted away by the G.C.P.D, “Just you wait, you hideous clown!”

Tiny bite-sized Robin snorts and she does not need to look to see the incredulous looks she is getting from vigilantes to officers to firefighters to even her own neighbors. Although, Marinette thinks she earns the right because some fucker in a clown outfit thinks that she is making Gotham a much better place with her D.I.Y charms and supplies and undoes his work to make Gotham a terrible place and the shit just skipped to burning her store and home and holding a knife to her throat until the Bat and his little birds showed up.

Like, excuse her but what the fuck?  God, can one even sue Joker in Gotham? Fuck, if no one knows, she will be the first to find out.

Felix would so love this. He has been insufferable since she moved to Gotham because “No, that is not safe!” and “Goodness, you people are nuts!”. God, he is so rubbing this into her face.

And probably enforce some visiting periods where they abuse Kaalki’s power to go to and fro between Paris and Gotham.

“Miss,” a well-meaning officer approaches, hands holding up, “We must ask you to calm down. Antagonizing the Joker is never good for one’s life expectancy.”

Marinette glares at him, taking a deep breath. Her face must not be the picture of calm and measured because the officer flinches and might just squeak a little bit when she smiles at him.

“I am calm,” she says, smoothing down her dress and damn! The clown just had to come when she is in her nightdress. Well, at least they gave her a shock blanket to fight against the chill.

And apparently, somehow Joker burning her store down means she on the Bat’s watch list. Because Plagg has been hissing something about birds and flying rodents in the backpack that holds everything she could salvage ever since she checked in into the hotel for a temporary stay until she finds another place.

It will be fine, she thinks. Everything will be normal again. Soon.

-

This would come sooner or later, she fumes. Nothing stays hidden forever.

Standing in front of the counter of the new and improved Miracle Crafts is a beaming Diana Prince and a man she seems to have seen before but cannot remember.

“Hello, welcome to Miracle Crafts,” she forces out a grin and hopes that this is just a social call, “How may I help you today?”

Please be a social call, she prays. She is too busy to do any hero-ing stuffs.

But of course, Tikki might be the kwami of Luck and Marinette might be the wielder of the Ladybug earrings but that does not mean she always get lucky. If anything, misfortune plagues her.

“Hello, Guardian,” greets Wonder Woman who is standing in her shop like, what? How did Diana even find this place? Marinette never tells her! “This is one of my colleagues.”

Marinette sighs, rolls her eyes heavenward. Oh god, something happened. Serious magical stuffs because Diana does not just come to see her with some guy who is probably Batman.

God, she cannot believe reading some conspiracy theories for fun would end up with her figuring out who Batman is. Because a) Diana’s colleague, as in Wonder Woman’s colleague, and b) the butts do match.

“Nice to see you again,” she mumbles begrudgingly and can absolutely make out the kwamiis’ chattering from the kitchen, “So, how is the world ending this time?”

[claire-connolly]

Claire Meets Beacon

Potentially a Part One

So I have much more important things to be doing but sometimes you have to just chase The Muse. This is the origin story of the Most Dynamic Duo.

Wordcount: 700+

Claire’s fingers brushed the rough bark of the maple trees. Getting to know flora and fauna of wherever she happened to be was one of the most important things to do, at least to her. To have a good connection with Earth, you have to make the effort to get to know her. She’ll give you her heart if you ask kindly enough. If anything, Claire felt she owed the Earth everything. 

Claire weaved her way through the foliage with no rhyme or reason, waiting to stumble on a clearing. It only took a few more minutes for her to find a patch of land with little trees and lots of sunlight. Claire took a small breath and inspected the area, the last thing she wanted was to find herself trapped in a Fae circle… again. It only took her a moment to assess the area and confirm it was just a regular clearing. 

She planted her bum onto the ground, running her fingers through the grass and laying backward. The grass enveloped her curls and hugged her sides. Closing her eyes, she let the sun’s rays kiss her exposed flesh. She laid there peacefully, letting her thoughts disappear until hearing something in the distance. 

The faintest of caws made its way through the woods. Claire’s ears perked up immediately. She opened her eyes and sat up, scurrying to her feet to try and follow the sound. She paused a moment to listen again, hoping to hear the call once more.

And there it was.

Another caw rang through the woods, slightly louder this time. Claire followed the sporadic caws as they got louder and more frequent. She ran closer before pausing at the sight. Before her stood a large Raven, its foot caught between a log and branch.

“Oh, you poor darling” Claire murmured, slowly approaching the Raven. It cawed louder, flapping its wings with worry as she approached. “It’s okay love, I promise you all I’m going to do is move the branch, okay?”

She spoke gently, as parents speak to their injured child. She waited, hoping the bird would settle before she got any closer. It took minutes for the raven to calm down, eventually becoming too tired of fighting to put in any more effort.

“Easy now I promise you all I'm doing is trying to help” Claire whispered, getting close enough to move the branch and free the raven’s foot. The Raven flapped its wings and flew up into the branches of a nearby tree, hobbling a bit as it landed. It observed her closely, its black beady eyes somehow radiating curiosity. Claire gazed up at the Raven, her head tilting to the side. The Raven was clearly hurt, why wouldn't he have flown away? All the way away.

She dug through her small purse, hoping to find some loose nuts or berries to offer to him. She had helped birds before, sparrows had a habit of flying into her windows, but it would be a but harder to get him through the woods to her shop. She managed to muster up a few stray cashews and raisins from a bag of trail mix she forgot to empty out during her last outing. 

“Hi again darling” Claire said softly, holding her sad handful out to the bird and approaching him again. “You look like you might need some help, I can help fix you up if you let me, I've helped other birds, some crows too! Though you're not a crow, you're bigger” Claire said, more so to herself.

The Raven tilted his head, inspecting the contents of her hands. He quickly bent down to peck at the food, small noises of content escaping his being. Claire stood there as still as she could, not wanting to scare him. Once her hand was empty, Claire stayed in position “There’s more where that came from in my home. You wont have to worry about finding food while you're hurt.” The Raven considered this proposition a long moment, staring into Claire’s warm eyes with his cold ones. He let out a loud caw before flapping his wings, transitioning his perch to Claire’s arm.

Claire smiled to herself, taking a deep breath as he found his position. His claws only hurt a smidge. 

“I’ve got you love, I’ll only have you as long as you want to stay” she assured him, slowly making her way out of the woods with her new friend.

[tinyyoungblood]

quarantine madness | t.h

summary: you knew quarantine with tom was going to drive you both nuts, but now he wants to reenact a scene from age of ultron and possibly break his back, and you’re ready to punch harry for going live on instagram to share his brother’s misery with the world

pairing: tom holland x reader

warnings: just fluff

requested by: @shythingstudentdragon

* * *

Thud.

“Y/N, are you awake?” A deep voice whispered.

You rubbed your throbbing temple and stared dizzily at the mop of brown curls. “I just body slammed the floor. Do you really think I could’ve slept through that?” He grinned cheekily and pulled you back up, but the simple motion made your head spin, and he was quick to steady you.

“Careful,” he said. You let out a paltry grunt and collapsed back onto the couch. Harry glanced at you for a moment before darting to the kitchen while muttering jumbled words under his breath. From afar, tiny exciting paws reverberated against the hardwood floor and you forced your eyes open to greet the precious bundle of joy.

To your luck, Harry had opened the blinds to the living room, allowing sharp sunlight to flood what once used to be the comfort of a dark cave. You almost hissed. Pitch-black eyes were jumping up and down in front of you and you were quick to scoop Tessa into your arms.

“Hey, baby,” you cooed. “Did you get here all by yourself?”

A snort sounded from the side, and your eyes flitted to a warm smile leaning against the doorframe.

“She did. She’s a big girl now. In fact, she drove us over all by herself, right, love?”

The couch dipped as Sam sat beside you to pet Tessa as she frantically whipped her head from side to side as if to wholeheartedly agree. A chuckle slipped from Sam’s lips before his gaze locked with yours. Concern crossed his eyes.

“Y/n.” He licked his lips tentatively. “I’m saying this in the nicest way possible, but you—”

“You look like shit.”

Harrison entered the room and crossed his arms with a look of disapproval and worry on his face.

Bemusedly drawing your brows together, you cocked your head and listened to the footsteps coming from the kitchen. “Is Twain also going to pop out of nowhere? How did you guys even come in?”

Silently walking over, Harry handed you a glass of water, his blank stare never wavering as you chucked the liquid.

“Spare key.”

Harry took the glass from you and placed it on the coffee table. “And Twain’s coming over later. Thought we might check in on you guys. See if you’re still alive.”

“It definitely doesn’t small alive in here,” Harrison said, grimacing.

Someone had opened the windows, and you had to admit it was nice to breathe crisp clean air again. Cowering under their worried looks, you crossed your legs and glanced at the clock on the wall. How was it already three o’clock?

“Okay, maybe quarantine got a bit over our heads,” you said and picked up a sock from the armrest. “But it’s not like we’ve gotten completely insane. We’ve just been…wasting away.”

Sam eyed the towering stack of Blue-Rays on the coffee table and a teasing grin swiped over his lips. “Wasting away with a movie marathon, I’m assuming?”

You smiled sheepishly and shrugged. “Not much else to do around here.”

Stretching your limbs with a gratifying sigh, you placed Tessa on Sam’s lap and stood up. “I’m hitting the shower, guys. Make yourself at home.” You gestured spiritlessly and patted Harry’s shoulder on your way out. Just as you stepped over the threshold, you spun around and stared at Haz’s leaning figure. “Where’s Tom?”

“Would you look at that.” He laughed, his crystal blue eyes loosening up from the stern gaze. “It only took you five minutes to remember your boyfriend’s existence. And they say romance is dead.”

Swatting his arm with a mock scowl, you looked around the living room and then spared a glance into the hall. “Seriously, we fell asleep on the couch together. Where is he?”

As if on cue, a loud thud bellowed from above, and your eyes widened. You had already turned on your heel and dashed upstairs before anyone could answer. The door to the office room fell open and you gawked at the sight ahead.

Tom was sprawled underneath the long velvet sofa, holding it up with both arms. He lowered it with a heavy grunt, and lifted it again with an even heavier grunt. He seemed to be deeply entranced in his action, not even taking notice of the footsteps nearing him until they stopped right by his side.

Stopping mid-action, he looked up and beamed at you. “Hello, darlimg.”

“Hi, love,” you said, amusedly. “Busy?”

“Uhm.” His eyes flickered to the sofa. “You could say that.”

“Just one question, Tommy.”

“Go ahead.”

“Why?”

Tom blinked at you. “What do you mean why? You know why.”

He was quick to scoot out from underneath, jump on his feet, and stand in front of you with the faintest scowl plastered on his face. You racked your hand through your tangled hair. “But I don’t. Should I know?”

His mouth fell open. “Yes. Yes, you should. You were there.” Your face remained expressionless. “Yesterday? When we watched the Age of Ultron scene on Clint’s farm?” Nothing. He groaned. “When Steve and Tony had an argument and Steve ripped that log in half, and you bet I could never do that?”

Finally, realisation crossed your mind. “Tom, I was half-asleep during that part. At that point, I was just mouthing gibberish,” you reasoned and laughed lightly, but it died down the second you realised Tom was not fining any trace of humor in this conversation. “You know I didn’t mean it, right?”

Vibrant blue caught your attention and your eyes flitted across the room to a blue yoga mat in the middle of the floor. “Oh no.” You groaned and let your head fall into your palms. “You’re going to rip a log in half?”  

Your question was muffled, but Tom caught it and nodded proudly when you met his gaze again.

“You could seriously injure yourself, you know that?” He hummed and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to your cheek before wandering over to the mat.

“For instance, you could get a splinter and die of blood loss.”

Again, he hummed while lowering himself to the ground, starting with slow pushups.

“And you would die before Spider-Man 3 was filmed and the whole world would just explode in chaos.”

“Yes, love. You’re right,” he said in between pushups and you sighed.

“You’re going to do it. You’re going to rip a log in half. I’m dating a maniac.” You threw your hands up and spun around when Tom hummed again, stopping what he was doing to lock eyes with you.

“I think the others are right. We’ve gone insane,” he said.

You nodded and hugged yourself as your giggle settled into a soft smile. Your expression melted at the sheer sight of your boyfriend making a complete fool of himself merely to prove his point. A second later you noted that he still managed to look too attractive for his own good.

Your eyes trailed the lines of his back muscles, screaming to tear his tight gym shirt in half, and down to his prominent bicep, flexing with each movement. Knowing there was no point in trying to persuade your competitive dork of a boyfriend, you left the room to take a much-needed shower.

The rest of the day went smoothly. As planned, Twain stopped by and together with the boys, you had managed to have a nice afternoon consisting of board games and trivial chatter. It was nice to be surrounded by other humans again, and you appreciated their company.

But what you appreciated a little less was Tom’s sudden spur of insanity. It’s been almost four hours and the guy didn’t find it in himself to stop preparing for what he had now titled the “Big Reveal”.

He was everywhere and nowhere. When you couldn’t find him plank in the middle of the living room, he was probably doing sit-ups on the staircase. At some point, you and the others had just accepted his new maniacal hyperfixation.

It was the kitchen encounter at 7.25 PM when you had finally found the courage to ask him the godforsaken question. It wasn’t by choice, really, but rather a lost bet with the others.

You were attempting casualty, maneuvering around his body to snatch a random bowl from the kitchen counter like it was the most normal thing—stirring air with a fork. Tom was currently doing pull-ups and you watched for a moment how his arms flexed and sweat glistened across the skin of his forehead.

“You alright, love?” His voice pulled you out of your trance and you shuffled on your feet.

Clearing your throat, you spotted the tiniest hint of a smirk revealing itself on his lips, and your eyes narrowed. “I’m good, thank you,” you snapped and rounded his body to stand in front of him. “You ready for the Big Reveal?” The words made you grin inevitably, but Tom didn’t notice. He plopped to the floor and beamed at you.

“I think so.” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Ready to regret yesterday’s words, love?”

                                  ───

“Wait, I didn’t agree to go live. Harry, no.” Tom’s warning fell on deaf ears as his brother simply grinned at him. He held up his phone and filmed the two of you with the back camera.

“Too late,” he mouthed and you were left with no other choice than to wave awkwardly.

“Hey, guys. Welcome to this very much unplanned Instagram Live.” He doted a mock glare in Harry’s direction and wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer to his side.

“Some of you might already know, but this is my lovely girlfriend Y/N. Trust me, she’s usually not this stiff.” Tom poked your side and flashed you a toothy grin. Playfully gasping, you leaned forward and spoke to the camera.

“Hi, guys.” You smiled. “Some of you might already know, but this is Tom. Our not-so-friendly neighbourhood psychopath.”

The boys snickered. You winked at the camera while Tom chuckled next to you. It was infectious and never failed to make you smile and feel at ease, so you continued your role as a moderator. After you had explained the absurdity of the situation and gestured to the provisional log standing representatively on the grass, it was time.

Stepping backward, you watched as Tom confidently, but with a certain waver of caution, picked up the log to examine it. A fleeting shimmer of doubt crossed his eyes but it was gone with the blink of an eye.

It seemed like the whole of London had agreed to stand still. There was only the sound of your droning heartbeat that filled your ears. The others had frozen completely. Even Tessa watched curiously.

Tom’s eyes flicked to yours and back to the camera. “If I break my back, you know who to sue.” He laughed heartily when you swatted his arm with a gasp.

“Just do it, Holland.”

And then it happened.

Gripping both sides of the log, Tom tugged at the piece of wood until it ripped down slowly in the middle and tore apart only a second later.

The yard exploded with noise.

The boys shouted, yelled, and cheered while running across the grass. Harry whipped from left to right like an excited child, trying to capture every moment.

Only you stayed put on the spot, your eyes flitting across the yard to the big ax stuck in another log. You cracked a private smile. It seemed as if only Tessa had caught on, and you winked at her knowingly. Your gaze wandered back to Tom and Haz who were both standing in front of Harry and talking to the phone.

“He might have lost his mind, but not this bet and never his fashion sense,” Harrison said proudly into the camera and Tom showered in glory.

Coming down from his blistering high, he turned around and his gaze landed on you. With a broadening smile, he was quickly by your side and smothering your cheek with tiny kisses.

“Thank you.” Kiss. “For doubting me.” Kiss. “I would’ve never made it if it weren’t for you.” Kiss. Harry came closer with his phone and you jokingly pushed Tom away, feigning a disgusted face.

“Move over, man. I don’t like you that much.”

The others laughed, and Tom leaned in, his warm breath fawning over your face as he chuckled. Lifting your chin with his hand, he guided your lips to his and captured them in a kiss.

“Get a room, mate!” Sam shouted from across the garden.

“There are children watching!” Harrison hissed.

You pulled back from the kiss and rolled your eyes at their quarrel, smiling. Unwrapping yourself from Tom’s embrace, you stepped back and gave the camera a two-finger-wave. “Alright, enough PDA. It was great to talk to you all.”

Just as you had turned around, a hand curled around your wrist and pulled you back.

“Not without me.” Tom leaned in again, nose bumping, and a dreamy smile hanging onto his lips. You huffed, but your grin betrayed you.

“Fine,” you said.

Tom pecked your lips and pulled away, hugging you even closer. He flashed you a cheeky smile and said, “But I’m not going, so neither are you.”

* * *

can’t believe i’m back. it’s only been like what? four years? :’) hope you liked this one! thanks for reading <3 

🦋 masterlist

taglist: @honeypie-holland​ @himarisolace​ @duskholland​ @insidiousslut​ @siriuslyslyslytherin​ @hollandsrecs​ @quaksonhehe​ @chloecreatesfictions​ @writertoo18​ @fl0ating​ @luwloki​ @missnxthingg​

[dreaminpetals]

Ik this is like the second you opened but uhh.. can I get some Naib swf/nsfw hcs? He’s a huge comfort character but he dosent have very much content kandnsksnsnsnsnsn

⛓ naib hcs ー sfw & nsfw

SFW ;;

♡ naib is a tough nut to crack at first.

♡ he's cold when you try to speak with him, but becomes an entirely different person when tasting danger in battle. he takes an absurd amount of hits for you and isn't shy about leaning in dangerously close to your lips or neck as he patches up your wounds.

♡ naib pines over you when you aren't around. he admires the way you keep fighting even when severely injured, and the fact you can taste hell without even thinking of being toxic towards your teammates or the hunter. you're a beacon of light in his life and the subject of his thoughts any time he feels like all hope for humanity is lost.

♡ he isn't sure how to describe why he feels dizzy when he sees you coming to rescue him or why the areas of skin you touch whilst healing him always burn afterwards. despite his rugged appearance and demeanour you're never rough with him, you treat him like glass which boggles the mercenary. why do you make him so soft?

♡ he struggles with seeing himself as anything other than a mercenary; a product of his homeland's endless war machine.

♡ when you tell him he's more than that ー a skilled cook, a reliable rescuer, a tease, a sweetheart, your crush ー he feels something stir in his heart. love, something naib didn't think he was worthy of experiencing.

♡ he's quite the tease once he's comfortable around you. naib kisses you so lightly that it leaves you gasping for more, or he'll eye you up and down in front of everyone just to see you freeze up in embarrassment.

♡ naib doesn't react to things much, his steeled nerves make emoting difficult, so he's all about pulling reactions out of you. pressing his hand to your cheeks and feeling them nearly sizzle under his touch always reminds him he's doing a good job of keeping you on your toes around him. it also makes him feel needed, when he sees your love for him painted on your face he can't help but give the faintest smile.

♡ he doesn't like loud or sudden noises. be mindful of that when you cuddle him. whisper in his ear about how you're so glad that he's here today if you want to see a blush tinge his scarred cheeks. rub loving circles into his hands if you want the redness to extend to his ears, too.

♡ huge show off. if you've seen his dance emote you know what i'm talking about. always flexing his muscles and dance moves around you because he knows what it does to you.

♡ in like all of naib's official art he's gobbling down drumsticks so i know he loves to cook for you and shines when you cook for him. make him a huge meal with sausages, burgers, and chicken wings if you want naib to ask to marry you on the spot. the way to a man's heart is his stomach, after all.

♡ style his hair for him and he'll wear it like that for the whole day. comfort flutters in his heart when he feels your fingers threading through his hair and tying it up or braiding it.

♡ you're eye candy to him. when you cook or you're sitting reading a book, it's common to feel a certain someone's eyes on you. he always denies that he stares, but when are his eyes not checking you out? never.

♡ when the manor holds fireworks shows he might need to be comforted. even if you're just holding his hand as he tries to maintain his composure around everyone, it works wonders for him.

♡ you ground him in reality and make him feel like a whole man as opposed to a broken one. even when you call him an absolute unit as a joke he's still so grateful for you.

NSFW ;;

♡ naib doesn't try to be rough all the time but he can't help it!! it's hard for him to be soft.

♡ his impeccable strength means that he loves to pin you against walls and hold you up as he fucks you. if one position is getting old, he flips you over his shoulder and takes you somewhere else. you can't deny that you're addicted to the way he manhandles you.

♡ he's capable of fucking you with just his eyes. when he gazes at you and licks his lips? yeah.

♡ makes a huge show of undressing himself. he looms over you as he bites his lip and slips his shirt over his shoulders, sweat glistening on his chest before you two have even done anything. he'll turn around midway through to give you a thorough look at the twisting muscles on his back as he tosses his shirt across the room.

♡ his scars have been an insecurity of his for as long as he can remember, so the sight of you getting horny and absolutely drenched with juices when you see them strokes his ego and eases his self-doubt. bonus points if you kiss them as he drills into you, it breaks his stonefaced persona and leads to some sloppy thrusts that leave you aching.

♡ into some very light knifeplay. he would have a fake blade that he traces along your skin, any laboured breaths or mewls that fall from your lips going straight to his dick. he would find your most sensitive areas and ghost the blade just beside them. he's unable to contain himself when you beg for him to just fucking touch you already.

♡ on bad days, he isn't extra rough, he just wants to be close to you. maybe you got hurt and sent waves of anxiety through his body that he isn't able to shake off despite you being safe. he protectively cages you with his body when he fucks you missionary style, resting his head in the crook of your shoulder and still staying sheathed in you even after you've both came.

♡ loves to tie you up, blindfold you, and spank you if you've been bad. teasing is naib's job, so he doesn't appreciate when you bend over a certain way as you decode with norton. each spank to your ass is fueled by envy and dripping with possessiveness. he wants to hear you promise that you'll be his forever between each breathy moan you release.

♡ naib loves to finger you. doesn't matter what hole it is, he'll slip on some fingerless gloves and rub the fabric against the areas surrounding your aching hole as his curled fingers stretch it open and make you scream.

♡ want to get a reaction out of him? pull his hair. i dare you. he lets it flow down his shoulders during sex because you like the sight, but what he doesn't know is you're yearning to reach up and pull it.

♡ if you ask him for oral, he'll drag out the process for as long as possible. your thighs will be killed with nibbles and long licks that lead to your dripping parts but his tongue never quite arrives there. when your quivering thighs cage naib's head between them, he knows he's doing an excellent job at torturing you. his half lidded eyes were made for making eye contact with as he goes down on you.

♡ his favourite act is definitely getting head. he can't control himself when your lips are wrapped tightly around his cock as you stroke him and milk him for everything he's worth.

♡ naib loves shower sex. not bath sex, but specifically pinning you to the walls of a shower as your soapy chest hits the steamed glass with every brutal thrust. his balance is perfect so don't worry about slipping. he's got you.

♡ baths are reserved for after sex. he loves to pull your back to his chest and massage you, washing off all the sinful actions you did to each other's bodies. if he's still horny, he isn't above giving you one quick orgasm in the tub before retiring for the night. naib is that guy who can always go for an extra surprise round, for better or for worse.

[honeybomb4thebear]

Congratulations, Yasuhiro!

Setting: Non-Despair AU

Yasuhiro tires his S/O sometimes, yet she still loves him. Which is why, it feels good when he touches her like that, even though he is as virgin as he could be.

Congrats on losing your virginity, Yasuhiro!

Yasuhiro Hagakure x Fem!Reader

Genre: N//fw (secks!), sm/t

Even though his fingers were on your panties, teasing you shamelessly he couldn't even look at you. Even when he moved his finger between your labia and pressed it against, he still couldn't look. You liked how shy he was, maybe more than the attention your... Lower parts were getting. "Y-Yasuhiro," you said, your head on his forearm, "just like that... p-please," your voice was barely above a whisper. "You like it," Yasuhiro said, his cheeks showing the faintest hints of pink. "You like it... Right?" Instead of answering, you let out an involuntarily moan. Yasuhiro's fingers were moving quickly, yet not harshly, which was causing you more pleasure than you'd expect. Seeing you as the hot mess you are, Yasuhiro seemed to be even more encouraged, since he touched your pussy directly without worrying about taking your panties off, just slipping the bottom part of it. He was clearly excited now, yet still tried to hide it. His eyes weren't open wide, but they were shining nonetheless. He seemed to be observing you completely, eyes scanning every curve of your body, undressing you with them. His lips were pressed into a thin line, probably to prevent heavy breathing like a creep. Yet the way his chest went up and down gave it away, causing you to snicker a bit. You then noticed his boner, which made your insides pulsate, and of course, Yasuhiro wasn't late to catch on. He gulped. "Like what you see?" His attempts at dirty talk could succeed if it weren't for his nervous and clearly excited expression. Yet you liked him the way he was. "I...I really do," you managed to let out, as Yasuhiro teased your bare entrance without even penetrating his fingers inside. "You are... Really wet," he said, almost surprised. You had to make a great effort to not laugh there, but you wouldn't be lying if you said the way his fingers moved helped. As you let out pants and low grunts, Yasuhiro became more impatient, resulting in him to push his fingers inside you all the way down to knuckles. You jumped in shock and pleasure, a long and loud moan filling the bedroom. This was kind of sudden yet it didn't take much time to get used to it. Your boyfriend then pulled you on his lap, letting you sit sideways so that he could kiss you easily. As his lips crushed on yours, he started scissoring, which naturally made you moan inside his mouth. You were a bit embarrassed by this, but Yasuhiro didn't seem to mind, even separating your lips to hear them loud and clear. While his one hand scissored you, his other hand started to toy with your clit, kind of clumsy but still pleasurable nonetheless. Whilst his fingers worked on you, Yasuhiro landed his lips on your neck this time, and you gladly allowed him, rolling your head back for full access. "Y-Yasuhiro... I'm c-close," your voice sounded really pathetic this time. Shaky, whiny, and extremely erotic. You understood that he liked the way you sounded when he instinctively bucked his hips up to your ass, his erection pressing against you even more. "You can... Cum." he said, letting out a sigh in pleasure right after. He was even harsher with his fingers now, working on you with enthusiasm Yasuhiro had rarely ever shown before. "I-I'm gonna, ah-!" you were out of breath as you felt your body strain with pleasure,  and went limp on his arms as you came back from your high. Yasuhiro slowly pulled his fingers out, a thin line of your cum the following suit after them. He looked at his now cum-coated fingers, eyes still shining and cheeks pink. You felt his erection twitch under your butt. You were slowly gaining breath now, the afterglow losing its primary effects gradually. Even so, your body was still super sensitive. Yasuhiro gulped as he stared at your trembling body with a serious expression on his face. "Do you want to... Go all the way? We don't have to, it's just, umm..." "Maybe," you said, your voice still low yet eyes refraining from eye contact. "Okay," Yasuhiro tilted towards the nightstand, taking out a condom as you worked on his pants. "Y/N, could it be that you are excited?" he asked almost smugly, looking at you as he held the condom in his hand. "I'm just... Helping you out." "Sure,"  he said, his nervousness having reduced a bit. He then requested that you got off of his lap, which you did quickly. You then took off your clothes, which Yasuhiro awkwardly imitated, taking off his clothes as well. When he finally put the condom on, he shyly looked at your entrance, even though his cock wasn't really shy. His dick was twitching at the sight of your pussy, much to his embarrassment. You looked at him, eyebrows raised. "I won't force you, buddy," you said, hint of disappointment in your voice. This caused Yasuhiro to panic, and he immediately started to tease your entrance. "Not that you have to force," he said, still not brave enough to enter you. "Sheesh, Hiro! You bully, stop teasing me..." you murmured, still sensitive so when he teased you your insides were tightening almost painfully. "Sorry, my fault," he said with a sheepish smile, failing to look guilty. And it became even more apparent after he rubbed his cock on your pussy, making you more of a whimpering mess than you already were. "Yasuhiro... Mhm--! Please, I can't take it anymore!" you cried out. Yasuhiro's smile didn't vanish, yet he steadied himself. "You do look nice and wet," he said as he looked at his cock, shining because it was coated in your juices, which made you wonder what had happened to the nervous and ultra virgin Yasuhiro he was a minute ago. "Mhmm... It...It's your fault, so take responsibility." "I-I can, right?" "...Dummy. 'Course y-you can..." "Then I'm going to put it in, Y/N." You failed to talk back to him- because your focus was shifted somewhere else, that somewhere else being his cock entering your vagina. Meaning instead of an insult, it was a moan that had come from your mouth. "Y-Y/N," your dumb boyfriend said, a dazed-yet-perverted smile on his face, "the sound you just made was so hot..." Again, right before you could answer, Yasuhiro started to thrust deep into your pussy, pulling you towards his cock so that he could bury himself inside you as deep as he could. The harsh slapping sounds that were caused by the smacks of your hips as Yasuhiro fucked you were accompanied by your cute moans- which only encouraged your beast of a boyfriend further. You wrapped your legs around his hips, yet Yasuhiro moved one all the way to your head, presumably to get better access to your cunt. The feeling of Yasuhiro's cock stretching your pussy felt better than you could've imagined, now that you were actually able to hear how wet you were. Yasuhiro was almost enchanted by your lewd state. The way your tits bounced as he thrust inside you was almost hypnotizing for this no-longer-virgin boy- and watching his penis penetrate your pussy harshly felt better than any fantasy he had about you. The real deal was the best, after all, he thought to himself. Getting more pumped up, he pushed your other leg to get the best access to your pussy, his dick growing bigger inside you. "I-I feel like if I told your fortune right now, I'd get 100% accuracy for sure!" You tried to insult him but the way his dick stretched your insides turned what was supposed to be a snarky remark into lewd moans. This resulted in Yasuhiro giggling in between his low grunts. "Ahh, Y-Y/N... In order f-for me to get more accurate results c-could we do this e-everyday? Um, uh, w-we will be rich." "Dumbass!" you managed to let out, but that didn't sound as harsh as you intended- it just sounded erotic. The more you tried to hide your pleasure, the more it showed itself. Making you wrap your left leg around his waist, Yasuhiro slightly pulled you on his lap, fucking you in a different angle now. The angle must have worked because your moans were louder than they were before, Yasuhiro felt like he did something. He didn't exactly know what he did though, but you were definitely enjoying it. "Pretty..." He whispered, his finger fondling your clit. "Y-Yasuhiro I'm-" "Cumming?" Two in a row?, he thought to himself. Guess he WAS a Casanova. "Y-yes, please..." He continued to rub your clit, watching your back arch as his thrusts became erratic as well. And not much later, you came undone on his dick, walls pulsating and desperately trying to milk him. The way you wrapped around Yasuhiro was more than enough for him to climax. His loud moan was too cute, you wished to hear it more often but you were glad to see his cumming face nonetheless. When he pulled out, you almost felt lonely. Almost. Because right after removing the condom, he said: "Should I make my fortune tellings more expensive, now that I have post-nut clarity?" "Yasuhiro get out."

sorry i’m so unfunny.

[cartasmojadas]

Another scene from the childhood friends dirkjohn AU I’ve been messing around with. Takes place after this and before this. 

John pierces Dirk’s ears.

John is already in his pajamas when he hears the rhythmic tapping on his window. He lets out a short yelp before remembering that Dirk had already told him he was on his way.

“Aren’t you grounded?” John pushes the window open and yawns. 

Dirk shushes him and uses John’s shoulders as leverage as he goes through the familiar motions of crawling through the second-story window into John’s bedroom.

“I am grounded, Egbert, so keep it down unless you want to rat me out.” 

John rolls his eyes but braces himself for Dirk’s weight as he finally finds his footing. Dirk lands gracefully and quietly. 

His Dad and sister are already asleep, he thinks but even if they weren’t, Dirk always moves so quietly John doesn’t think they would even be able to notice. 

“You still down to help?” Dirk asks as he closes the window behind him before making himself comfortable on John’s bed. 

John turns on the classical music station the old radio is stuck on and hopes that it adds a quiet buffer to their voices. 

“Help with what? You should be helping me with my geometry homework. I think I might actually fail next week’s test.”

Dirk waves him off, “I’ll help with that later, or better yet, you should come to tutoring with the guys from the engineering club.” He digs through his backpack. 

An uncomfortable tightness spreads over John’s chest. A feeling he’s becoming a little more familiar with. 

John frowns and joins Dirk on the bed, their sides pressed against each other until Dirk freezes for a moment and scoots away, and ends up dangerously close to the edge of the bed. 

“Why can’t we just do one-on-one?” 

Dirk stops rummaging for his supplies and looks at John through the reflection on the dressing mirror hanging on the wall. Dirk watches John’s expression sour as he stares at his empty hands like he sees something Dirk can’t.

They look like an unlikely pair, with John dressed in mismatched socks, an oversized t-shirt, and his hair already sticking up in all sorts of directions like he was already sleeping; while Dirk looks like he is ready to head out to a rave with his meticulous hair and carefully planned black outfit.

“Do you not like the guys from the club?” Dirk asks. It’s a question he’s been meaning to ask for a while. As much as Dirk craves spending time alone with John, he’s doing his best to avoid the awkwardness that has seeped into their relationship. But he worries that their interests are just a little too different. 

They just don’t seem to click the same way ever since Dirk came out.

John’s frown deepens, “No, they’re fine,” he swallows. He’s not sure how to tell Dirk that the reason he doesn’t like hanging out with the engineering club because he feels left out whenever he’s with them. John loves to see his friend in his element, it means that Dirk shines brighter, drawing everyone in. But John always gets stuck watching on the sidelines as Dirk’s friends monopolize his attention. And it makes John, by his own private admission, irrationally jealous. 

He doesn’t like the way that makes him feel.

“Then why not? I think there are a few dudes who are better at explaining math, compared to me.” Dirk hands John a small pink plastic tray with a cheery depiction of a happy sun and clouds.

“I just can’t focus the same way,” John says with enough definitiveness that Dirk simply nods. 

“For sure, okay.” He drops a couple of sandwich bags on the tray. When they make a dull clacking sound John stares down at the contents. 

Dirk smirks, “You ready to pierce my ears?”

John’s jaw and stomach drop in tandem. “What?” He squawks. “Are you nuts?”

“C’mon, Egbert,” Dirk doesn’t beg but his voice is dripping with nervous adrenaline in a way John hasn’t heard in a while. 

It’s contagious.

“I can’t ask anyone else. I wouldn’t trust Rose or Roxy to not fuck up my earlobes.”

And that eases the tension in John’s chest. 

“Why can’t you go to a parlor or something? Tell Roxy to take you to Claire's.” John is already moving to face Dirk, inspecting his earlobes from afar.

More of the tension dissipates when a single choked laugh escapes Dirk. 

“They require parental consent and we both know my dad would never agree.”

“He’s gonna kill you when he sees your ears tomorrow. And if he finds out  I helped he will never let me see you again,” John sighs knowing full well that wouldn’t stop him from seeing Dirk. He begins inspecting Dirk’s tools. 

“He won’t find out,” Dirk’s voice drops to a low whisper, “It’ll just be a secret between us bros. Right?” 

Dirk means to sound teasing, recalling the way they used to share secrets and promises as kids, but instead, he flinches when he catches John looking away, his ears bright red. The sight triggers the plume of something hot that rises from his gut whenever he’s reminded of how bad he’s crushing on John and how much it probably inconveniences his friend.

John is not embarrassed. 

Or he is but not for the reasons Dirk suspects. 

There’s something in Dirk’s tone that forces some of John’s suppressed dream memories to resurface and John knows he needs to collect himself before he tries to make eye contact again. 

“So,” Dirk clears his throat, “Go wash your hands? I’ll look up some youtube videos?” he says quietly.

Grateful for the excuse, John jumps out of the bed wordlessly and scrambles out the door. 

John returns a few minutes later with clean hands and a wet face. 

Dirk smirks, “I said wash your hands not take a shower.” 

John shrugs, “Hey, you have a ten-step face routine, I wash my face with soap and call it good.”

John sticks his tongue out when Dirk grimaces, “We will fix that later,” Dirk mutters and pats the empty spot on the bed. 

Carefully, John climbs back in the bed and takes in the faintest scent of menthol and nicotine that comes off Dirk when he leans closer to show him the video on his phone. It’s probably the reason why he’s grounded in the first place. A small act of rebellion toward his strict parents.

Both boys shift uncomfortably and do their best to focus on the instructions on the video and not on each other’s proximity. 

They have to watch the video multiple times and after the sixth time, John tells Dirk he thinks he’s ready. 

He puts on the latex gloves Dirk brought with him and preps the tools on the plastic tray that Dirk holds over his lap. He’s shaking as he straddles (hovering, neither could handle it if John just took a seat on Dirk’s thigh) and starts massaging Dirk’s earlobe the way the woman on the video instructed.

Dirk’s breathing is staggered and John wonders if Dirk is more nervous than he originally let on.

“I-Icepack?” Dirk chokes out. 

“R-right,” John breathes out and reaches for it. He holds it to Dirk’s ear and quietly counts to 30 and then reaches for the safety pin. 

Dirk’s head is spinning unable to focus on a single thing and instead finds himself on sensory overload. John’s the closest he’s ever been to Dirk since they used to wrestle in elementary school, and Dirk desperately pleads to whatever benevolent power might have mercy on his hormonal teenage ass that they keep his body in check.

He’s also acutely aware that the icepack wasn’t very cold and that piercing his ear is probably going to hurt a lot.

“Okay, ready?” John’s voice shakes.

“Just do it, man, do it. Fucking stab me. Pop my goddamn ear cherry. Do it, dude.” Dirk’s voice also shakes.

John takes a sharp breath in and pushes. 

Dirk hisses and curses. He reaches for a fist full of John’s shirt. It might have made John self-conscious of their position if he wasn’t also shivering with adrenaline. 

He follows the next steps of the video and makes a move to get off Dirk. 

“Wait, what about the other one?” 

John groans, “Bro, no. I can’t. My legs are freakin’ jelly. That was terrifying!”

Dirk tightens his grip on the shirt, “John, you can’t leave me with one pierced ear.”

John chews on his lip. “Fine,” He groans again, “But don’t you ever forget I’m your best friend.”

He doesn’t mean for it to sound so bitter but the words roll out of John’s mouth with enough edge to make Dirk look at him with a puzzled expression. 

John a lot less gentle and Dirk, knowing what’s coming, can’t hold back a garbled sob. 

Glad that the worst is finally done, John gently wipes away a runaway tear from Dirk’s face and softly shushes him. 

“And now we wait,” He carefully moves off Dirk. 

Dirk nods and balls his to keep from reaching up to touch his pulsing ears. 

There’s the loud artificial sound of a phone shutter. 

“Sorry,” John mumbles. “I wanted a picture to commemorate the occasion,” he says with a sheepish smile. 

What Dirk means to sound like an annoyed huff comes out as a stumbling suspire. 

“C’mere, let’s take a selfie.”

John beams, his nerves finally calming and a deep sense of peace washing over him. The bed is loud as he crawls back over and lets Dirk put an arm over his shoulders to pull him in carefully. 

Dirk takes the picture and frowns down at the exhausted faces on screen. 

They take another one once Dirk has the studs in. 

That one becomes John’s home screen.

[thedumpsterqueen]

Standards of Performance, Chapter 3: Boundaries and Text Messages

Regular weekly update! Look at me go! This one took me ages to write for absolutely no reason, and then ages to edit because the AO3 text editor kicked my ass. Hopefully the formatting isn’t a dumpster fire, and hopefully you enjoy! Sidenote: you are always welcome to scream about Hotch, nsforwork or not, in my inbox.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

AO3 Link

Summary:  You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter: 3, Boundaries and Text Messages

Chapter Summary: You discover that the unsub isn't what he seems, and overstep some boundaries you probably shouldn't have.

Words: 2291

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

Back in Hotch’s hotel room, the three of you were sitting on the ground, surrounded by textbooks and torn-out pages covered in the seemingly mindless scrawls of the suspect. Well, you and Morgan were on the floor; Hotch was at the desk chair. Hotch wasn’t really a sit-on-the-floor type of person.

Morgan groaned and rubbed his temples for the third time in an hour. “It means nothing, man. He researched all this shit so he could commit the crimes in a way that would fuck with us.”

Hotch sighed and nodded in agreement. “It certainly seems that way. That explains the inconsistencies in the profile. However, we can still understand the subject by the signatures he chose.” He pointed to a scribbled note in a textbook section about the psychology surrounding different methods of murder: “Slashing throat? Effective + easy.”

He looked at you. “What can this note tell us about our subject?”

“Um, it doesn’t sound like the cause of death is important to him. Like it’s just something he needs to do. A necessity. Right?” you responded, somewhat unprepared for this sort of pop quiz.

“Exactly. And this tells us more about him. This isn’t about the kill; it’s about what he does beforehand. It’s about the rape,” Hotch said. “Don’t be so humble. You know more than you think you do.”

Your face felt hot, and you looked at the floor - an increasingly regular occurrence around him.

Morgan spoke up, still visibly exasperated. “If he spent so much time trying to throw us off, why did he pick victims that were so easy to tie to him?”

“He’s an idiot?” you offered before you could stop yourself.

Really professional. Holy shit, please shut up.

The faintest trace of a smirk graced Hotch’s face. “You’re not entirely wrong. He isn’t particularly intelligent, based on the information we’ve gathered so far. Not nearly as complex as we initially assumed.”

“Yeah, well, either way, he’s a nut. And Gracia can’t find anything about where he might be, and I’m starving,” Morgan said, standing up. “I’m gonna pick something up. You guys want anything?”

“Get me whatever looks good,” replied Hotch, focused on whatever written ramblings he was currently dissecting.

“You?” Morgan asked you.

“Just get me whatever you get him,” you said. “Thanks, Morgan.”

Morgan nodded and grabbed his jacket. “Be back soon.”

He closed the door, leaving you alone with your boss that you definitely didn’t have an erotic dream about the night before. You tried to focus on the textbook, but the words swam. After a few minutes, you huffed and set the book down.

“Shouldn’t we be looking for him right now instead of reading his weird psychobabble?”

Hotch looked up from his work with a raised eyebrow.

You continued, “I just mean, isn’t it more important to stop him from killing again? We already know he did it based on the stuff he wrote in the books, we don’t need to fully understand his motivations to confirm that.”

“Yes,” Hotch said, “but these offenders rarely cease their behavior out of nowhere. His appetite is alarming; he took three victims at once. We don’t know if those were even his first assaults or kills. Given that Garcia couldn’t locate any family or friends, we have no idea where he might be, so our time is best spent learning how to predict his actions and respond if someone else goes missing.”

He was correct, of course, but it just didn’t feel right - like you were sitting and waiting for something terrible to happen before you could do anything. Hotch must have sensed your frustration, because he leaned forward towards you, elbows resting on his knees, and continued in a slightly softer tone, “I know you feel helpless. We all do in situations like these. But trust me, we’re accomplishing more here than we would be trying to canvas the entire city.”

“I know,” you mumbled. “You’re right. It’s just, seeing the photos of those girls, knowing the type of person that’s out there, it’s hard to convince myself I’m doing enough just sitting here.”

“You’re not just sitting here, and you know that,” Hotch said, sternly. “You’re doing your job. People will die with or without us; our job isn’t to save them. It’s to catch the people that kill them.”

“But how do you deal with it?” you asked, growing more bold than you probably should be. You weren’t just asking about this case anymore, and you weren’t sure whether or not you wanted him to understand that. You wanted to ask him how he did it - how he woke up every morning alone, how he suffered an unimaginable loss at the hands of some of the purest evil society could produce and went back to the job that showed him more of that evil every day.

Judging by the hard set of his jaw, he knew exactly what you were getting at.

“I do it because I have to,” he said. Every word sounded measured, like he was explaining something he had dozens of times before.

“You don’t,” you whispered, but you knew you were wrong, at least to him. You knew he felt it was his responsibility to shoulder the burden so other families didn’t have to experience what he did. You had a background in psychology, and this was pretty low hanging fruit. A therapist would have a field day with him, but you weren’t a therapist, and you certainly weren’t in any position to tell your boss, a leader with decades of experience in the field, that he shouldn’t be taking all of this on.

He evidently didn’t find your comment worthy of a response, as he went back to picking through the pile of evidence. You’d hit a nerve though - his posture was more rigid, his almost-permanent scowl even more pronounced. The tension built with every second of silence, and you suddenly wished you could go back and erase the conversation.

Thinking better of trying to repair the damage you’d done, you kept the subsequent conversation focused on the profile. By the time Morgan got back, you had a fairly good idea of the suspect’s psychology, and after a quick break for fried rice and a video chat with the team, JJ set up to deliver a press conference from the police precinct in Vegas. Hotch switched on the news on the hotel TV, and you sat back to watch.

“The man currently suspected of committing the triple homicide that left bodies here in Vegas, in Phoenix, and in San Diego is an obsessive sexual predator,” JJ said to a waiting crowd of reporters and police. “He displays characteristics of a stalker, and women who interact with him may describe him as creepy or off-putting. Though murder is not his ultimate goal - in fact, he may not be completely comfortable with the act - he views it as a necessary step to dispose of his victims post-assault.”

“Do we usually do this?” you whispered to Morgan, “Release the whole profile publicly?”

“Nah, but with this guy, we want him to know we’re onto him,” he said back, trying not to disturb Hotch, who was watching JJ’s address intently. “He put so much effort into throwing us off, we gotta let him know we see through his bullshit. It’s the only play we got right now, considering we got no idea where he is.”

You turned back to the screen, where JJ had moved on to talking about the suspect. “His name is Ellory Matthews,” she said, holding up his ID photo. “He’s a 24 year old white male, about 5’9” and 200 pounds. We have strong reason to suspect he is involved and currently trying to evade the police. He is considered armed and extremely dangerous, so if you see him, please do not approach and call 911 immediately.”

Hotch, apparently having heard enough, stood up and turned off the TV. “Hopefully someone has seen him and can tell us where he is. If not, this should be enough to scare him into making a mistake.”

You tried not to think about the fact that a mistake still probably involved someone being hurt or killed.

“Get some rest. I’ll clean up here. Morgan, before you head to bed, call Garcia again and see if she’s found anything that can point us to where he might be.”

“Got it, I’ll let you know. Night, Hotch,” Morgan said.

You echoed Morgan and headed back to your room.

____________

After getting ready and tucking into bed, you found yourself completely unable to fall asleep. The conversation with Hotch kept replaying in your head - how resentful he’d looked when you asked him how he does his job, knowing that you were asking about it in relation to his family members’ deaths. He was a reasonable man, and you knew you hadn’t done anything wrong on the surface, but you shouldn't have pushed it, especially since the events you were referencing had been relayed to you by JJ in private. You weren’t even sure he wanted you to know about what happened to his wife and kid.

Shit, I might have really fucked up.

You rolled over and yanked your phone off the charger, and before you had time to convince yourself it was a bad idea, you sent him a message.

Me: Hey, sorry to bother you, I know it’s late. I just wanted to apologize if I offended you during our conversation earlier. You’re an incredible agent and boss and I didn’t mean to imply you shouldn’t be in the field for any reason.

You scrolled through Instagram mindlessly, waiting for his response, but he texted back almost immediately. Knowing him, he hadn’t even made an attempt to go to bed; he was probably still up reviewing the case.

Agent Hotchner: I understand. No need to apologize. I knew you’d hear about what happened sooner or later, and it’s natural to question my judgement, considering. I hope my actions in the field haven’t done anything to lend credence to that concern.

A weight lifted from your shoulders at his response, knowing he wasn’t angry with you.

Me: No, not at all, Sir. You and the team have been incredible and I’ve already learned so much. If I ask a question, please know it’s for my own learning rather than questioning your decisions!

Agent Hotchner: I’m glad to hear that. Please always feel free to ask questions.

Me: Thank you so much! Will do!

Satisfied with conversation, you set the phone back on the nightstand and rolled over. A few moments later, though, it buzzed again, and you looked at the screen.

Agent Hotchner: “Sir” is a little formal for text messages though, isn’t it?

You blinked, struggling to process the tone of the message. Was Aaron Hotchner making a joke? You messaged him back hesitantly.

Me: Can never be too formal! :) Is there something you’d prefer?

Agent Hotchner: Oh, I’m sure you can figure something out.

Your eyes widened at that, and you sat up in bed, staring at your screen. If you thought he was messing with you before, this was more; this was almost… flirting.

Ok, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here, you thought, trying to calm your embarrassingly high heart rate. He’s older. Way older. He probably doesn’t text that much, and he probably doesn’t realize how that came off.

Me: I’ll let you know when I do.

Agent Hotchner: Please do. Sleep well.

You placed the phone back on the bedside table, almost shaking with adrenaline. What was wrong with you lately? First you have a sex dream about your boss (who’s old enough to be your parent, you might add), and now you’re freaking out because he texted you something that could possibly be, in some interpretations, construed as flirting.

Hotch was attractive, of course. You’d have to be an idiot not to admit that. He was handsome in a way you didn’t see often - not the obvious, in-your-face stunning like Morgan was, or even the adorable, put-together look that Reid gave off. Hotch was old-school handsome, like he should be in a black and white movie smoking a cigarette while his doting wife made him dinner.

Or something. It’s not like you’d thought about this before.

But even if he was handsome to such a degree that seeing him with two buttons on his dress shirt undone nearly gave you a heart attack, leaning into this fantasy you were unconsciously creating where your relationship was anything more than boss and intern had the potential to destroy your career. Hotch could read people like a book, and if you were unable to conduct yourself normally and effectively at work for any reason, your internship and aspirations would be tossed out to the street.

Time to stop being an idiot.

Sometime during your mental dissection of the text conversation and its implications, you must have fallen asleep. You were awoken to a still-dark room and someone gently squeezing your shoulder, saying your name.

“Wha- oh, it’s you. I’m so sorry, did I miss something? What’s going on?” you asked, still not fully conscious.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Hotch replied, standing over you. You were suddenly thankful for the dark room and the blanket that were covering your lack of pants. “I tried calling you and knocking, but you didn’t respond. I figured you’d forgotten to turn your ringer on.”

“Shit, yeah, I did. I’m so sorry,” you said, sitting up. “What did you need?”

“It’s Ellory Matthews. Police caught him trying to kidnap another girl. He’s in custody.”

[tortleofwar]

Valentine's Cherub Pt. 2

The noises from trucks clearing the road, I can sleep through that. Sunlight blaring through my eyelids, I can easily turn over. But the smoke of a cigarette catching in the back of my throat is something I can't ignore. I bolt upright pounding my chest as I cough up the carcinogens. Smoke stings my eyes as a fresh puff is directed towards me.

"Good morning my little warrior." She took another drag and blew away from my face this time. "I assume you aren't a smoker then?"

"You got me." Finally settled from my coughing fit I roll off the bed and walk to the bathroom. My bladder was close to bursting and a conversation was the last thing I wanted to have right now.

"I guess I can't call you little after your display last night." She let out a school girl giggle as she walked into the bathroom. The cigarette was absent from her hand. She reached a hand out and held me as I ejected my urine into the posh toilet. "Got some power behind this thing. Wish I could have exclusive access to this."

"Not gonna happen." I forced it out to get her hand off of me quickly. "Last night I was snowed in and my cards were all declined. I'm thankful for your help but what happened last night was a fluke."

I skipped the shower hoping to get away from her before something else was instigated. She turned it on and walked out behind me. Her hands wrapped around my waist to grab at my dick again. This time I stopped her and proceeded to my clothes.

"If you are going home you're gonna need a shower." She gave my ass a swift slap and licked her lips hungrily. "Besides, your bar tab hasn't been paid off yet. Last night was the release I needed after my recent dry spell. But that was only the tip. I bought your drinks and provided you a room."

My heart dropped at the realization that she was right. This hotel was top notch. Red carpet throughout the room, a bidet in the bathroom, and the thread count was higher than my monthly salary. I could end up indebted for a while. Sky wouldn't like it so I had to find a way out of this. I swiped to my bank app and checked the balance. My check cleared and $1850 was showing. It wasn't much but it would cover the rinks I had.

I turned to find her on her knees mouth open and eyes closed. The hormones and attraction couldn't be denied but this was wrong. At least last night could be blamed on the drinks and need for a place to stay besides out back by a dumpster. But now was entirely different. I could walk out right now and leave her on her knees as I shut the door.

"I don't normally offer this to anyone." As I was looking at the door her eyes looked up to me and it felt like my soul was ensnared. As she stood her hand trailed up my thigh to cup my balls and then get a firm hold of my hardening shaft. "We get dirty while getting cleaned up and then I will consider us square. No money, just sex."

My answer should have been hell no, all caps with about five exclamation marks behind it. However those eyes and that plump booty slowly walked me to the shower and I was stuck. My tears washed away by the shower as I surrendered to her once again. I could say it was to square the debt but I honestly wanted more.

As we kissed images of my wife flashed in my head. The good times, the bad, and the sex. True, experience was one hell of a teacher but my heart could never betray her. My mind arguing that this was just a release, purely physical. But the betrayal was there.

I dove into the deep end, pulling her closer and adding carnal passion to the kiss. I began to kiss down to her neck and she whispered into my ear.

"Use me. No limits just go crazy." Her voice husky with desire. "Please."

I'd pressed her against the wall and teased her with one hand while nibbling on her tit. The harder I bit the slicker she got. True to her words she didn't deny anything as I chomped down with force. Her yell turning into a muffled moan as she bit her bottom lip. My finger finding her inner folds while my thumb strummed her clit had her body trembling. This was something Sky relished and hated with a passion.

This woman welcomed the body trembling climax as I kissed my way down ignore the plea in her eyes. I scooped her up onto my shoulders giving full access of her lower extremities to my mouth. My goal was to keep it going as long as possible and possibly even give her another. Licking inside and out made her thighs squeeze as she pulled at my short dreads. Denying her the release of rolling my tongue along her clit until I felt her juices flowing down my chin.

An explosion went off in her body as I applied steady pressure to her clit. Her nails scratched at my scalp and her thighs blocked all sound as she locked them over my ears. As her climax came down she released her vice grip on me and breathed heavily. As I back away I flicked her clit one last time and felt her back away.

"Was that resistance?" A wicked smile spread across my face as she looked down sheepishly. I grabbed a towel from the rack and grabbed her hands. "I hope you can cover the damages."

I ripped the towel into several strips and soaked them with water and the hotel provided soap. With each one I would slowly slide them over another erogenous part of her body. I decided against the soap for the final strip. Opting instead to blindfold her with it. As I stood admiring this soapy piece of art I'd made her hands reached out for me. I sidestepped them and whispered into her ear.

"Not yet my pet."

She froze in place as the stream of water rained down on her. I quickly grabbed a cloth and bathed her body gently. Cleaning her from the neck down. She relaxed the longer this went on until she could no longer feel my touch. I watched as she tilted her head to listen for the faintest sound of me, searching for the smallest notion that I hadn't abandoned her.

As she reached for the blindfold I bound her hands and quietly shushed into her ears. These were the things I'd wanted to do with Sky but she didn't trust me to care for her this intimately. But here was this stranger willingly surrendering herself to me. Rubenesque body presented to me with no hesitation. I took her hands and placed them on my cock moving her hands to instruct her to stroke me.

I placed a hand on her shoulder and she instinctively went to her knees. Her face hovering inches away from me I pushed forward penetrating her lips. Her warm tongue swirling around my dick as I pushed in and out of her mouth.As her rhythm became steady I pulled back, forcing her to lean forward for me.

My deep chuckle was drowned out by the water. Her nose was pressed into my naval as she choked on my length. I forcefully pushed her off of me and watched as the water cleaned the spit and saliva from her face. I turned her around and pushed her onto all four. The water pounded on my back as I slowly eased inside of her. Building a steady motion and feeling her push back into me.

As I took over grabbing her hips and slamming into her the wet sounds echoed inside the bathroom. As much as I was enjoying this I needed to remember why I was doing it. I focused wholly on busting my nut and raising up out of here. Her clenching helped speed the process up and she could tell. She began to beg me not to pull out and I complied.

Exhausted I stayed in place as the water washed over me. I slowly pulled out cleaning my shaft as it shrank back to its flaccid state. I untied her and removed the blindfold. She eagerly fetched a washcloth to clean me up. I stood in place as she moved around me cleaning every inch. When she tried to get me hard again I swatted her hand away.

"That should square up our debt. And this hopefully remains a secret." I was rushing to get dressed and out of this blissful nightmare. "Please don't come looking for me."

"That's going to be hard considering how good pets are at finding their masters," she joked. "But I understand."

I winced at the nickname and bolted out of the door. With cleared street I cautiously steered to my home shaking my head at what I'd done. It couldn't be justified and I would be damned if she left me because of this. As I pulled into the parking garage a familiar powder blue Pontiac drove by me. The shirtless passenger was laughing as he turned to leave.

Shaking it off I walked through the halls of the apartment complex and fished out my keys to the door. Slow music could be heard through the door and the smell of fresh candles could be heard. I scrunched my brows in confusion because this was her post-coitus routine and I wasn't here last night. Then the realization hit me. He was here last night, snowed in with Sky, and we had just had our biggest fight ever.

My keys dropped to the floor as I slid down the opposite wall in dismay. I shook my head with doubt but the evidence was there. I couldn't accuse her after what I'd just done but for her to sleep with MY boss was a whole other level of betrayal. That smug bastard would probably be smiling every day just thinking about this. The rage took a hold of me as I forced myself up.

Shoving the key into the door I burst through it and saw her look of joy. It slowly faded as she saw the anger on my face. Her confused expression only made me feel worse.

"So I just saw Michael on his way out." Her realization didn't show as I began to explain. "He looked extremely happy considering he was snowed in 45 minutes away from his home. Any idea why that is?"

"He probably knows someone else who live nearby. I did tell you I saw him a few times in the neighborhood while I was out."

This brought up another realization in me. He was on lunch calls for two hours on those days. My apartment was 15 minutes away. Those lunch calls started when I got my promotion four months ago. She quit her job because I didn't want her to have to work again after she put me through college.

"I have all the addresses and contact information of all of his associates and sneaky links. None of them live near here. What was he doing HERE?"

Her face lost all expression as she shook her head. "You were gonna find out one way or another. Michael and I have been seeing each other and I think it's time you moved on as well."

There it was. The dagger through the heart I'd been waiting for. I clinched my fists as I paced through the front room. All the while she stood there with no expression or words. The tornado of thoughts going through my head landed on hurting her but I held it in. Looking back at her I could only ask one question.

"Why?"

"You're too nice to me. I need a man who can handle me, put me in my place and treat me how I want to be treated in private," She explained walking to the door. "He spoils me in public and uses me in private. Something a BOY like you wouldn't understand. And that's what I need in my life. Not someone who worships everything about me or is my every beckoning call."

"So I treated you like a queen and this is what you've wanted all along?" I slumped onto the chair shaking my head. The smile on my face scared me. "All this time and you said nothing."

"You're a great guy. And I'm sure someone out there would love to be with you." A bit of fear had entered her voice as she noticed the smile. "But I'm not the one you need. I'll be by to get my things later."

"So you hurt me and you're not even going to apologize?" I asked looking up at her.

"I'm pretty sure after last night we both knew this was where it was heading." She looked at me with a sly smile. "Although I may have broken you for the next poor girl."

The door closed behind her as I sat shaking my head. Her laughter should have done something to me, made me feel anything, but I could only think about the cougar. How I could use a stress reliever at this very moment. At that moment my phone buzzed. I sighed as I checked the notification.

An ad for therapy made me laugh to myself. After all of this I could do with some venting to help me get back to normal. I scrolled down and my jaw dropped. Dr. Clarice WIlliams had a picture of brunette hair flowing down to her shoulders and a pair of captivating green eyes hidden behind glasses. Was God sending me help or was the Devil tempting me? I shrugged and turned on my PS4 to play Paladins.

[asthmaticbee]

Oh, hey, it's me pouring my bad mental health into torturing one of my favorite anime husbands, what else is new?

Disclaimer: these snippets might get edited or scrapped when this undergoes its final writing process. You may also go and go crazy with the AU idea to your heart’s contend. I mean it. Go nuts.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

--

Ed hadn’t expected granny in the kitchen, but when he thinks about it he’d probably hoped she’d be there. There are two glasses on the kitchen table and a bottle of whiskey. “I’m underage.”

“Old enough to serve is old enough to drink.”

He has half a mind to argue with her on principle alone, and Ed never thought of himself as the type of person to drink in the first place. But there has been a pressure in his head and a numbness in his body for months now, and he thinks a different kind of numbness might be just what he needs. He sits down across from her, eyeing the amber liquid in his glass.

“Did you find them?”

“No,” Edward wonders if feeling will ever return to his voice. “It was a different unit.”

There is a moment of silence, then Pinako hums. “I’m glad.” She takes a sip from her drink, points the butt of her pipe at his neck. “What happened there?”

His flesh hand comes up to rub at the rough bandages, his eyes far away. “Someone got the drop on me and tried to choke me. Got the guy a bullet in the head for his troubles.” Something flickers over his face for barely a second, too fast for Pinako to really tell what it is, and she watches him take a sip from the drink in his glass, face impassive as he swallows. He glances at the liquid. “Kinda thought it’d be worse.” There’s a double meaning there that goes ignored.

The air between them is heavy with something unspoken, and in the hallway the clock ticks the seconds to midnight. “You don’t have to talk about it, Ed,” she gives him an out, if he wants it. He can take it and pretend nothing has changed.

Ed never quite knew when to take an out anyways. He takes another swig from his drink, bigger this time, and Pinako sees Hohenheim in him for just a second, that almost-dead look in his eyes and the cut of his jawline. “Nah, I think I need to, just once.” He tilts his head slightly, mulling over his words. “I’d rather it be you than Al or Winry.”

“They wouldn’t think differently of you if you did.”

“No, they would,” his voice is firm but still lacks emotion. “I… don’t think they really get it. I didn’t really get it before I got to Ishval, either.” He rests his head in his left hand, twirls the liquid in the glass with his right as he stares off into the middle distance, mind far away. “After the first I puked my guts out for so long my commanding officer was about to have me declared unfit for duty. Kinda wish he had.

“It got easier, after,” he chuckles wryly, sips from the whiskey again – the glass is half empty now but his eyes are clearer than Pinako thinks they should be for a boy his age on his first drink. “Can’t believe I’m saying it, but it did. Killing people got easy at some point, it’s fucking hysterical.

“Apparently there were bets going on amongst the senior officers; which of us would crack first and go nuts, which would be sent home because they can’t handle it, which of us would have the highest kill count – stuff like that. ‘Cos it was such a novelty to have State Alchemists walk around like human weapons blasting through people like a one person army. Disgusting pricks,” he finishes the glass with two gulps and refills it almost at once. Some emotion is bleeding back into his voice, and Pinako isn’t sure if it’s the alcohol or talking about it or a mix of both. “I topped the first two lists, Mustang the third, by the way.”

Edward smiles wryly at her, and there is the faintest flush on his tan cheeks. “I cost a bunch of old fucks a lot of money. The first of us to crack in the head was the guy who found Aunty and Uncle – to be fair I think the asshole wasn’t right in the head from the start. He loved what we were doing down there, I hated when we were stationed near each other, his laughter echoed through the streets more than the shots did. He blew up part of command, couldn’t even find all their body parts afterwards.

“The first they had to send home was a guy named Armstrong. Broke down crying after they shot a kid in front of him,” something must have shown on her face because he elaborates. “Any Ishvalan we came across was to be treated as a combatant, armed or not, adult or child – didn’t matter,” he swallows half his second glass at once, clears his throat. “Mustang did end up with the highest unassisted death count.

“I was fourth.” He knocks back the rest of his second glass but doesn’t reach to refill it just yet. He looks more like himself from before now, but his eyes are still dull. “You know what was worse than the screams and the unending shots? The silence, because the only thing you heard then were the snipers.” His right index hovers over the rim of his glass. “When there’s a barrage of shots someone might die or not, you can’t really tell until the cleanup gets there. Snipers though-,” he taps the glass once, the clock in the hallway ticks five times, then he taps it again. “It was so regular. A shot, five heartbeats, another shot. Each shot equals one death. Made me sick at first, but eventually it was all just-,”

Edward breaks off, rubs his left hand over his face, then grips his hair tight, as if trying to force some sort of feeling back into himself. “Eventually I just got so numb, granny.” His eyes find hers and they shine in the low light of the kitchen. “At some point I just-, it was like I wasn’t inside my body anymore, not really. I just didn’t feel anymore, and it was so scary because I didn’t want to feel anything anymore, but I also didn’t want to just die inside.

“You said Al and Winry wouldn’t think differently of me if I told them, but that’s not the point. Because I am different.” He fills his glass again, only to empty it immediately after. “I’ve murdered people, I’ve murdered children. I have the fourth highest unassisted body count of all deployed State Alchemists, granny. What does it say about me that I held out till the end when a grown-ass man was sent home after a nervous breakdown?”

Pinako looks at him for a long moment, and with a sigh she empties her own glass. “I don’t know, Ed, but I think you’re a strong enough man to not let this consume you.” She picks up the bottle and gets up to put it back in her liquor cabinet. Behind her, she hears Edward move to the sink and rinse out their glasses, his footing sure in a way she doesn’t think three full glasses of whiskey on an empty stomach should warrant.

“I’m sorry, for unloading that all on you, granny.”

“Eh, that’s what grandmas are for, Ed.”

“But you just-,”

“I was prepared for them to come back in body bags, Ed. I was prepared for you to come back in one, too. I’m glad I only had two bodies to bury.” She turns around and finds herself wrapped in a tight hug, smelling like whiskey and oil. There’s the underlying smell of desert and blood clinging to him still, and she wonders if it will ever leave.

“Love you, granny,” he whispers, and he feels solid in her arms, like a part of him has started to return to him, to them.

“Love you too, pipsqueak.” There’s only a wry chuckle where before would have been a lost temper and banter, and it wrenches her heart more fiercely than anything else has, yet. It’s the sudden certainty that a part of Edward was forever lost in the desert sands, and would never come back.