#my stomach sink in panic though I didn’t realise why

[skibidilando]

A day at quadrant: LN4

Author note: I don’t even know how to post anything on this and never wrote a fic but I hope this is good but I think it’s pretty shit and I haven’t finished it yet and if any writers want to use this idea you can for sure just @ me please oh and if you have feedback please let me know thanks xx

Lando x quadrant fem reader

Blurb: reader is a member of quadrant, she games most of the time but also likes f1 along with her best friend Ria bish. She is friends with all members at quadrant and finds it a good laugh with all her mates, but maybe her view of someone in particular is more than a mate..

Warnings: sexualising, swearing, mention of a gun, leaked tape, sad distraught reader, friends to maybe lovers if I make it a series? Smut-ish? If I missed any let me know (I don’t know how to do warnings sorry x)

I woke up late again today. The mornings aren’t made for me. I just can’t do it. I love the feeling of sinking into my bed for 20 hours. But I can’t today, I have 4 people with cameras recording waiting for me to bloody get up and start filming a video for quadrant. But I’m not complaining because this is my job and something I like to do. I try to be in most videos and do my part, but it’s not like Lando gets that mad if I miss a few videos, but from my fucked sleep schedule, I don’t think he will like if I miss another one after I skipped the last 3.

I realise the time and see Lando, Ria, Ethan, and Max spamming my phone to get on. Fucking hell. I don’t even think to get changed, i just checked all my lash extensions were on, tied up my hair, and brushed my teeth. I probably look like shit but I did this to myself. “Better late than never I guess” max says rudely to take the piss out of me. Everyone knows my bad sleep schedule and how moody I am in the morning and after he’s done that, I’m not having it.

“Sorry guys my alarm didn’t go off but I’m here now ahaha” you say trying not to make an unhinged comment to clap back at max. “Y/n girl I missed you where have u fucking been!” Ria says. Ria is my bitch, we ride together, we die together, Ria is my best friend. “Me too Ria!” I say back politely.

“Alright enough mucking about we have to record this video mate” Ethan jokingly says and makes Ria and I laugh. “What r we even playing again” i question. “we are playing gartic phone you muppet” Lando tries to say but starts laughing at Y/n. “Why r u laughing mate” I say confused then realise wtf I’m doing. I’m wearing my pajamas, not my normal pajamas my fucking tiny, tight lace top that could pass for a bra if you squint your eyes. It hits me and I shit myself realising I have a camera filming me and recording everything.

“Omg I’m so sorry fuck I forgot let me change” I panicked in saying quickly. “Who said to change” Lando bluntly says. I was stopped in your tracks. Excuse me? Lando? As if he just said that. “Um my tits are almost exposed on camera and i look like a hoe” I say. My manager is definitely gonna get me in trouble for that. “Woah y/n you fucking hottie” Ria says when she looks at me from my camera. I get nervous in my stomach and naturally run to go grab a hoodie, luckily i live in a small apartment so it didn’t take me long. “Um sorry guys sorry let’s just move on I forgot sorry sorry” i say nervously.

“Yeah alright let’s go I’ll send you the link Y/n” Ethan kindly says which is unlike him being a dickhead most of the time as a joke to piss me off. I like Ethan though I think he’s funny and actually caring about us all and our business. “So do we write a prompt then get someone else’s to draw and keep going” max says like he didn’t ask to play it. “Yeah but make it funny about us and f1 the viewers will fucking love it” Lando says. I still can’t believe what Lando said. I join the game and wait for everyone else to join. I started to feel the panic caving in on my chest and texted Lando.

lando wtf was that?

I send quickly

what was what?

He replied back

The fucking comment like I know I’m sorry and shouldn’t have worn that before chucking something on top but why did you say that Lando

I started to let everything out on accident, but I had every right to, he was my friend and said that I should not have changed from my top that was basically lingerie.

fuck I was just joking

He replied back bluntly.

Why do I feel sad that he said that. Did he think I looked bad in it? Did he think I was looking like a hoe? Fuck why did I talk to him like that he’s my boss!

“Alright we’re starting now lock in don’t say any dumb shit” Max says right before filming the intro and starting the game. I don’t know what prompt to write. Then I get an idea to do Ethan and ginge in the sauna with Lando from a video they did a week ago. I submit it and then recieve a prompt. I bursted out laughing when reading it in my head and looking at my atrocious drawing. It’s a drawing following the prompt of Max’s bunda blocking Landos old fiat jolly, but I drew their hair orange on accident. I kept playing the game and do a few more rounds and have a laugh until we stopped recording.

The rest of the day was pretty chill as I was tired and it was a week day so i stayed at home until I feel asleep watching a movie. I wanted to get sleep like I always do but extra sleep tonight because tomorrow we were all hanging out for lunch and a chat to talk about future video ideas. Was it bad I wanted to look really good? Surely not right?

I woke up and this time remembered to change my top. I picked out a cute off the shoulder knit long sleeve top and some jeans. They made me look good with my tanned skin and made me feel just as good. I straightened my hair, brushed my teeth, and did my makeup ready to go to the cafe we were meeting up at. We always watch the video our editor puts together while we meet up at the cafe spot every week, it’s basically a routine.

Ria and I hugged each other then went to the table both fashionably late. I saw Lando, Steve, Aarav, Max, and Ethan sitting there on the big table with two spots saved. One next to Steve, and one next to Lando. After my short blunt convo with Lando I decided I wanted to sit next to Steve, but that was overruled when Ria already sat down. Well fuck isn’t this awkward. Can I order a gun?

“Hi Y/n” he says looking at me. Why is my stomach already curling into a ball. “Um hi Lando” I say quietly. I am a bit too close to home for my liking as the table was a bit small but it’s fine. We all ordered our food and I ordered some avocado toast trying to be healthy and aesthetic knowing well I end up eating some of everyone else’s food lol. Lando like the child he is ordered pancakes.

“Im sorry about what i said yesterday, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable or anything it just came out im sorry”. Lando says politely. Did I misinterpret his message? Why is he nice now? Why is my stomach tied up into knots? WHY AM I WEAK IN THE KNEES?

“Oh it’s all good I’m sorry idk why it didn’t click to change out of that fucking slutty top like a normal person” I blurt out. “Woah why are you so hard on yourself, calm down Y/n it’s completely fine and it was a nice top anyways, it looked good on you.” he said. EXCUSE ME? “Thanks?” I said confused. Thank fuck the food came otherwise I would have fainted at the awkwardness.

The food was good, Lando didn’t talk nor did I the rest of the lunch. Then we watched the video that came out. My heart sinks. The start of the video showing our cameras in the intro has me at the start or the whole morning, in that fucking top on YouTube. “Wait-fuck what why am I in there wearing that how did the editor get that clip it’s not even from the same time frame. I panicked. I was about to cry. All the comments were already flooding in hating on me saying I was attention seeking in that top. “Please get it down, please please ” I started crying already in Rias arms. Lando looked angry. “Who the fuck put that clip of her in it” he said angrily. He calls the editor who made the video on speaker. 0.00001 seconds after the editor answer Lando is already yelling.

“WHY THE FUCK DID YOU PUT THAT CLIP OF Y/N YOU DIDNT EVEN ASK HER OR CARE YOU PURPOSELY DID IT! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU JUST DID! GET IT DOWN NOW”. Lando yells before hanging up knowing the editor got the message. I’m are still shaking and trying to not bawl your eyes out with just a few tears. “Lando it’s my fault you didn’t have to yell at him like that sorry” i say weakly. “NO ITS NOT YOUR FAULT BECAUSE YOU DIDNT EVEN KNOW IT WAS FILMED AND CLIPPED YET AND HE PURPOSELY DID IT, ITS LIKE HE WANTED TO HURT YOU. FUCKING DICKHEAD”. Lando yells. Out of instinct i just run and give him a long hug. My head sinks to his chest. He holds me tightly as i hold onto him for a while.

I go back to your apartment that night. I’m just sad. Especially after reading all those comments about me. I try to ignore them all but they keep flooding in like rapid fire. I automatically give in and go on my phone. But to my confusion I’m getting tagged on twitter instead.

Fucking hell. When I thought this couldn’t get worse.

There is a video going around with hundreds of thousand of retweets already. It’s a sex tape of a girl which confuses me so I click onto it. Oh my god. It’s a deep fake of my face and that lacy bra thing on a random sex tape. I can’t do this anymore. I wish I didn’t exist. Naturally i call our quadrant group chat. Everyone answers immediately leaving me to realise they have seen it too. “Guys, I am fired” I say while bawling my eyes out. “Y/N I’m coming now with Lando” Ria says while in her car on her way to my apartment. I can’t even process what Ethan and Steve are saying cause my mind is just blurry and I’m a mess.

5 minutes later a knock is on my door and it’s Ria with Lando. I just cry in her arms and start rambling on about how my life is over. “Y/n that editor is going to jail, the YouTube vid is down and all of our socials are deactivated for now, talk to us if you need now” Lando says calmly to me. I just hug him tightly. “Can you tell everyone that’s obviously not me please” I say weakly. Ria is making me mac and cheese cause she knows it’s my favourite. “Of course I will and I will get this fixed Y/n for now just let us take care of you and get better.” Lando says. His touch is making me feel better if I’m being honest. “Thanks guys for coming over tonight, can you guys stay I’ll sleep on the couch and you guys take my bed” I say calmly as I’m starting to get her my bearings and feel a little better about everything.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch.” Lando and Ria both say straight away after my words. “Lando has a race next week so he should fuck his back up on the couch again like he did that one night he got drunk at the club last month” Ria says jokingly. “Is it okay if I’m in the bed with you?” Lando says maturely (shocking I know). “Yeah it’s fine if it is fine with you” I say back. “Yes it’s completely fine.” Lando replied quickly. I go to change into my pajamas. I see that bloody top. I don’t think twice after ripping it into pieces with my hands and teeth before chucking it out. “Fuck that ahahha” I said laughing as all the lace misses the bin but I ignore it. Ria Lando and I all start watching a movie together, Ria asks me which movie and I try to think of a normal movie I want to watch but I’m not sure why ratatouille is speaking out to me but I choose ratatouille like the wise mature person I am. Lando starts laughing obnoxiously which makes Ria and I start to as well. “It’s a good fucking movie shut up” I say defending myself laughing.

We are watching ratatoullie all together while I’m snuggled up in between Ria and Lando feelin comfortable and safe. My mind starts to forget a little bit about the stupid video situation. I don’t know why but my legs somehow ended up over landos. Whoopsies. I feel happy and safe with him, he had always been a good friend to me and always fun to be around. We all get tired after the movie ends and go to bed to sleep, well Ria goes to the couch to sleep.

Something inside of me wishes this isn’t the last time Lando is in my bed.

I myself am going to bed too xx

thanks to these lovely authors who inspired me to write ahahahha:

@mariahcarreyyy @f1goat @uglyducklingofthe2000s @vivwritesfics

[whataboutthefish]

Day 31

Prompt 31 Combination of any of the above, or free day,  Aftercare

Geralt/Reader - Aftercare, praise, slight subdrop, soft, fluff, non-gendered reader

It’s been a kinky ride my friends so it would be amiss of me if I were to leave you all without a little aftercare. Thanks for joining me for my very first completed kinktober, it’s been a trip!

Words 789

Your eyes flutter as you come back to yourself. Still floating, you can feel the soft touches from calloused fingers stroking over your cheek.

“There you are,” Geralt’s warm voice drifts through your hazy thoughts,wrapping  themselves around your heart. 

As you slowly open your eyes, peering through your lashes up to Geralt’s intense yellow gaze, you realise your head is cradled against his strong warm chest. You don’t want to move, you know Geralt will look after you, so it’s easy when he murmurs into your ear “Just lay back, I’ve got you,” to do as he says. 

Your body feels tired, wrung out in the best possible way. It’s obvious how sensitive you still feel as Geralt wipes over you face, down your neck and over your chest with a soft towel. He wipes away the sweat and tears, the mess you have both made cooling on your skin. Every swipe is followed by a kiss, to your head, your temple, and one placed on the tip of your nose that has you giggling.

When he moves down your body running the towel between your legs, you bury your head into his chest, hiding from the world. His laugh feels devine, his chest rumbles, the hairs there tickle your nose. 

“Always so shy, what are you hiding from, baby?” His words make you bury yourself further, finding a place under his arm until you are surrounded by his warm skin and the scent that is purely Geralt, safety and love. 

You whine when Geralt finishes cleaning you, his touch disappearing makes you panic for just a moment before he’s wrapping you in the softest blanket you’ve ever felt. He shifts beneath you, pulling away, and your stomach sinks. Suddenly the world feels untethered and a sob gets caught in your throat. 

“Shh, baby I’m just fetching some food, it’s just on the table, see? I’m not leaving you.” Geralt explains.

He always knows just what to say to put you at ease, even though it feels wrong not to be touching, you nod your head and watch him as he does exactly as he says. 

He brings a mug of cool water to your lips first, cupping your chin just so, making sure you don’t choke as you guzzle it down. You didn’t realise how thirsty you were and now that you’ve drunk your fill you can feel the slight headache that had started gently push away. 

“Here, baby, you need to eat,” Geralt pulls you into his lap so you are leaning back against his chest, a plate of cold meats and fruit sits beside you and he has a piece of apple in his hand. 

You lean forward to take the morsel from his fingers, the flavour dances across your tongue like you’ve never tasted anything so fresh before. Bite after bite is lovingly fed to you, the sugar helps more than you would realise, your thoughts are coming quicker now.

It’s not long before the silence seems to weigh down on you, you mind reeling at the things you have done. You can’t explain why your stomach plummets and your world seems to fall away, a small whimper leaves you unbidden and Geralt is there, guiding your gaze to look at him. 

“Hey hey, baby, talk to me” He urges you, nothing but concern and love written over his face.

“You- you don’t,” You gasp, unable to catch your breath. Geralt waits patiently, sweeping a large thumb over your cheek as you find your words, “What we did, I- do you still love me?” It seems stupid now you say it out loud but you need to hear the words come from Geralt’s lips.

“Oh baby, I love you more than life itself, I’m so very proud of you. You were so good for me, the best.” He whispers the words straight into your soul, placing the softest kisses to your lips which you drink up along with the praise. “You could never do anything to change the way I feel, I promise.” 

It takes a moment of coaxing hands, soft touches, but they ground you. The sweet words Geralt always finds for you and his warm, strong arms surrounding you help the world return to its axis. Your heartbeat calms and the tension that came so quickly leaves just as fast. 

It’s easy for you to drift off to sleep like this, your strong, beautiful Witcher keeping you safe. He whispers praise and poetry into your ear, stroking a hand through your hair with a promise to watch over you while you sleep. You know he will be there when you wake, just like he says, waiting to tell you he loves you.

Read this and the rest of the months fills over on Ao3 for 20k of kinky fun

[brrrritscoldinhere]

Words upon Words

Remus loved to write poems.

He first got introduced to them when he received a book for his birthday, one consisting of love poems from all over the world, written by Muggle poets. But he’d left it on his shelf for years to collect dust, more interested in his fiction and the occasional book on Muggle and Wizarding History.

But in his fifth year, he started noticing Sirius more; how his hair would hang in perfect, loose coils, how his eyes were framed with long eyelashes, how there were tiny speckles of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Remus started feeling things, things he didn’t understand, and he was scared. He was scared and he wasn’t sure what to do. He had never felt this way with anyone else before, not with the short flings he’s had with his old girlfriends, nor his first time kissing a boy who definitely hadn’t deserved his kiss.

So for the first time since he got that book of love poems, he slid it out of his bookshelf, seeing if it could help him understand.

And it did; it helped him understand so much better.

But of course, with the understanding came the terrifying realisation that, fuck, he really did like Sirius Black.

The poems talked of hearts, of bright smiles and shy hands, of how there was always that warm feeling in your chest whenever you stare at your significant other, and how everything seemed so small compared to them. And that was how Remus felt about Sirius, wasn’t it? He always had butterflies in his stomach and a warm feeling in his chest when he was looking at him, or talking to him, just being with him, even thinking of him. And he would give up absolutely anything, anything at all, if it would make Sirius happy.

And it was terrifying.

He had shut the book closed, and made to return it to his bookshelf. But a feeling in his stomach stopped him in his tracks, and after a few seconds of hesitation, he slid it under his pillow instead.

And after that, was when he started writing poems. Because clearly, he couldn’t tell Sirius how he felt, so why not try to put it pen to paper instead?

So he started writing. A lot. He used up so much parchment, he had to buy thick stacks of it whenever they could go to Hogsmeade. His ink was running out faster, but he continued writing. Because for him, it was easy to pen down how he felt for Sirius; it was like the words just flowed out of him. He wrote about how Sirius could be compared to the most beautiful flowers; how he could be the moon to his stars, his own lighting in a bottle.

And it was all fine, well, it was, up to the point where Sirius somehow found all the neatly folded parchment paper where Remus wrote his poems.

And Remus walked onto him reading them in the dorms, on his bed. He swore his heart had never fell down to his stomach so fast.

“Sirius!” Remus lunged for the papers, but there were too many of them scattered on the bed. “What- what the bloody fuck? Sirius, these are mine! You can’t just— just go through them, you dick—”

“Rem,” Sirius interrupted. He had this faraway look in his eyes, but at the same time, they were clear and sharp. It looked as though he was fighting to stay in reality or to sink into his daydreams. It scared Remus. Terrified him. “These poems. You wrote these?”

Remus blinked, the feeling of horror that was slowly crawling up his spine making him momentarily freeze. “Yeah— yeah, I did. Can you give them back now?”

Sirius hadn’t blinked. “And these are love poems, right?” he asked, completely ignoring Remus. The werewolf clenched his fist, panic making his head cloud and ache.

“Fuck— yes, yes they are, Pads. Now can you give them back please? They’re really private.”

“And they’re about me.”

Remus couldn’t breathe.

How did he know? Remus— Remus had been so sure he had been hiding his feelings for Sirius so well, never letting an emotion that wasn’t strictly platonic show. How did he know—?

“You wrote my name in one of these.” Sirius pointed to one in particular. “And… yeah. I… read them. All.”

Remus swore he was about to collapse. His knees were weak and his breaths came fast, and his eyes went blurry.

“Hey.” He couldn’t hear anything through the beating of his heart in his ears. Was that ringing?

“Remus!”

Remus blinked, and there Sirius was, right in front of him. All he could see were grey eyes clouded with worry, and he had to blink before he went cross-eyed.

“Sirius—”

And then the worry in those eyes quickly switched to determination, and Sirius pushed forward, kissing him.

And at that moment, words had never felt so useless — so small, so purposeless. No words could describe the moment they were in. Because there they were, pressed together, the universe realigning just for them, just so the brightest star could end up to the brightest moon.

And as they kissed, Remus swore he felt the world tilting beneath his feet. But it didn’t matter anyway, because Sirius was there to hold him steady.

[seijorhi]

Inescapable

Part 2 of Always - another soulmate au with extra angst!

Oikawa Tooru x female reader, Miya Atsumu x female reader

TW toxic relationships, implied abuse, blind reader

“Stay here,” he murmurs, soft lips brushing briefly against your cheek before you feel his warmth retreat.

It’s an effort to quell the fleeting panic that rises in his absence. Japan is your home – was your home – but Tokyo… You’re not supposed to be in the village. Only the athletes, trainers and the support crew for the national team were supposed to stay there. It kept out distractions, made it easier for security, gave the athletes the space to focus on what they’re there for; to compete. To win. 

You don’t know how he did it, what strings he had to pull, but somehow he’d managed.

A room for the two of you. Just the two of you.

“You’re staying with me,” he’d told you when you’d brought up the possibility of going home to Miyagi to visit your family, or even spend a few days with Makki and Mattsun. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

The words had been whispered, a soft, teasing purr as lips curled into a smirk at your neck, but you know what he’s like when he’s competing. The focus and obsession he’ll throw himself into. 

Especially when you both know who he’ll be competing against. 

Nevertheless, you’re here. Alone now, standing in a sea of strangers talking too loud in a cacophony of foreign tongues while Tooru left to go find his team–

Strong, familiar arms encircle your waist, a kiss pressed to the top of your head. 

– but only for a moment.

“C’mon, cutie. Let’s get going – Coach gave us twenty before he wants us at the gym.”

—

You know one or two of the players on the national team from San Juan. They’re friendly enough, and they’ll stop and chat with you on the odd nights you venture out into the cafeterias dotted around the village for dinner. But for the most part they’re focused on other things and Tooru–

Tooru’s possessive enough of your attention at the best of times. 

Which means that you’re either with him, tucked carefully under his arm as he guides you around the village, or you’re stuck in the room, bored out of your mind waiting for him to come home to you. And for lack of anything better to do, you have the games playing on the TV.

Just for the sound of your mother tongue filling the room around you. Just so you won’t be alone with your thoughts for too long.

It’s different, back home in San Juan. But you understand it – why he brought you. 

“Where I go, you go, always.”

“Always.”

And the loneliness is worth it, you think, when he sinks down into the mattress beside you after a long day’s training and pulls you close, nuzzling into your side. This is better than being left behind. You’re here to support the man you love. Your soulmate, the name on your arm be damned. 

His good luck charm, he hums, kissing you in the early hours of the morning before slipping away. 

But even you can’t just sit around the apartment all day long. It’s good to stretch your legs, even when you’re in strange, unfamiliar territory. You tell yourself that what Tooru doesn’t know won’t hurt him, forgetting just for one blissful moment that your soulmate and his team are not the only ones who might catch you wandering. 

Of course, that realisation doesn’t sink in until broad shoulders suddenly barrel past you, knocking you off your feet. And you would have fallen, awkwardly probably, had a pair of strong, lean arms not caught at your waist, steadying you.

“Jeeze, Bokkun! Watch where yer goin’, wouldja!”

The first voice, the thick, drawling Kansai dialect isn’t familiar, but the voice that follows is impossible to misplace.

“Thought I told you two–”

It cuts off abruptly, and in some distant part of your brain you register that the stranger’s still holding you, the warmth of his hand still braced on your hip, but all you can really focus on is the owner of that second voice.

“Iwa?”

Tooru had told you he’d be here, Hinata too and Kageyama. And of course Ushijima, but you’d assumed that – at least up until they played against one another or team Japan got knocked out of the running – they’d be busy and you wouldn’t cross paths.

There’s a surprised intake of air from your left – ‘Bokkun’, you imagine – and he asks, “Wait, you know her, dude?”

And still, the warm body holding you doesn’t move an inch. Not until a familiar, irritated huff sounds, “Get your hands off her, dumbass.”

The body behind you tenses for a split second before obeying, hands ripping themselves away from you as if he’d been scalded. “Shit, sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine,” you murmur with what you hope is a polite smile, only half paying attention because you can hear Iwa striding towards you. In one breath, he’s knocking back your saviour and pulling you into a one armed hug.

“Shittykawa said he’d be bringing you,” he says quietly as you squeeze him back. It’s been such a long time since you’ve been face to face with him. Tooru calls him to catch up most weeks, more often than putting him on speaker so that you can say hi, but it’s not the same. “Didn’t think he meant to the actual village, though.”

You’ve missed him, you realise. Him and Makki and Mattsun, and suddenly there’s a lump in your throat, emotions welling that you can’t name. There’s so much you want to say to him, things he knows but should be said anyway, but–

“Aren’t you gonna introduce us to your pretty friend, Iwa?”

Your cheeks heat as the two of you part, yet it’s Iwa who answers for the both of you.

“No. You two need to get your asses moving,” he says. “Back to the gym, now. Unless you wanna stay back after everyone else finishes up to run extra drills?”

It’s a clear dismissal, and the two only pause for a heartbeat before grumbling their assent – and one sheepish apology – and heading off to continue their run.

“Let me walk you back.”

Some things never change, you suppose. “Iwa, you have an Olympic team to train,” you tell him with a wry grin. ”I’m not going to risk being accused of sabotaging the Japanese national volleyball team just because you feel the need to be gentlemanly.”

It’s clearly meant as a tease, but instead of the good-natured huff you’re expecting, he sighs. “C’mon. You almost got knocked on your ass, let me walk you back.”

It’s not a suggestion, and as he takes you by the hand and starts leading you back the way you came you’re reminded of high school - he used to do exactly same thing any timeTooru wasn’t around. There’s a slight flicker of irritation at your first breath of fresh air without Oikawa’s overprotective hovering being snatched away, but you know he means well.

He always does.

So you shove those feelings down and offer him a smile. “You know I’m stupidly proud of you, right?” you tell him. “Both of you.”

And something in Iwa relaxes and he laughs, “Yeah well I’m just glad you’re gonna be here to witness me wipe the floor with Shittykawa’s ass.”

—

It’s late, and Tooru isn’t back yet. 

And it wouldn’t bother you except that lunch had been hours ago, and your stomach is starting to growl, hunger settling in. 

Tooru works hard, he pushes himself and stays late when he should be home resting, you know that, but even if you did want to go and find him, pull him back so that he won’t push past his limits days out from competing, you wouldn’t have a clue where to find him – not in this sprawling maze of a complex.

What else can you do but wait, as fifteen minutes turns into half an hour, then an hour, and suddenly it’s almost nine. 

He won’t be happy that you’ve left without him, but either he’ll meet you at the cafeteria, or you’ll get home before he’s back and you’ll have dinner waiting for him. At this time of the night it’s likely to be empty anyway, it’s not like you’re running off in the middle of the dinner rush.

Most of the athletes’ll be back in their rooms, you’re not gonna get knocked around in the mad scramble for food, nobody’s going to pay you any mind.

But once again, you’re proven wrong. 

It’s not quite the roaring din that you’ve come to associate with the dining hall, but you can hear a few quiet conversations scattered throughout the room. At least none of them pay you any heed as you slowly wander the buffet, shyly asking one of the servers to help you pick out something for you and Tooru both.

It’s not until you move to take a seat, hoping that Tooru will get there before you have to try and cart his dinner back to the room that you hear the unmistakable scraping of a chair being dragged back beside you.

“Ya know, Iwaizumi never did end up telling us yer name,” a familiar voice states, settling down into the seat. “He did end up making me ‘n Bokuto run extra laps as punishment for knockin’ into ya, though.”

Out of habit, your fingers fiddle with the sleeve of your jacket – Tooru’s actually – warmth flooding your cheeks. He doesn’t sound pissed off by the fact, and you suppose he probably wouldn’t have sat down beside you if all he wanted was to pick a fight. 

“Oh, I’m… sorry?” It comes out sounding more like a question than anything else. 

He laughs at that, the sound surprisingly warm and pleasant. “Nah, not your fault. Iwa’s a hardass at the best of times.”

“Sounds like he hasn’t changed much since high school,” you muse.

Oikawa might’ve been Captain back then, but that never stopped Iwa from slapping him upside of the head whenever he did something particularly stupid. He was a hard ass, but he was also incredible at keeping the rest of the team in line and motivated, and he kept Tooru grounded. He kept you grounded. Aggressive, tough love was simply a part of that. 

You wonder distantly if his new team realizes just how lucky they are to have somebody like him in their corner.

“High school? Ya knew him back then?” he prods.

He’s a stranger. Not just a competitor, but ‘The Enemy’ just like Kageyama and Ushiwaka. Out of all the teams that Tooru might go up against during the games, you know that they’re the ones he’s most determined to defeat. And you don’t necessarily buy into the whole ‘destined rivals’ thing – Kageyama was never anything but polite to you, but you know you’re supposed to back your soulmate up on this. You know he’d be pissed to find you casually chatting away with any one of them, except maybe Hinata. 

Maybe.

But it’s nice just to indulge in a conversation – even meaningless small talk – with somebody who doesn’t know you as Tooru’s. You can’t help but relax a little, the tension easing from your shoulders, a small smile creeping across your face. 

“I’ve known Iwa since I was six years old. He’s one of my best friends.”

The man hums a little, his chair creaking as he leans back, “Really? He’s never mentioned ya.”

And it’s clear from the sharp intake of his breath that he regrets the words the moment they’re said, but instead of feeling offended, you simply laugh, the sound bubbling up before you can stop it. 

“It’s fine,” you say when he tries to backtrack. “Do you often have deep and meaningful’s with Iwa about his childhood friends?”

He snorts, “Yeah, point taken, I guess. So how come yer here then? Didn’t think they allowed cheerleaders in the village, even the cute ones.”

Something flutters in your stomach at his tone; it’s warm like honey, just a hint of teasing. He’s flirting, you realise, and in an instant you know you should shut it down. Harmless small talk is one thing, but you’re–

You have your soulmate. 

“What makes you think I’m not staff?” you ask instead.

“No uniform,” he counters, and you can’t argue with that. It’s not your fault that you can’t see what everybody’s wandering around wearing. “And you don’t really strike me as the ‘athlete’ type, no offense.”

You don’t really know how to respond to that, so you just shrug somewhat self consciously. He’s not wrong; you don’t really belong here, but you find yourself reluctant to tell him the truth.

The only reason you’re here is because Tooru cheated the system, because he couldn’t bear to be without you.

Or maybe because he knows how much of a mess you are without him. Blind and helpless without him to guide you, even here, back in the country you’d both left behind all those years ago.

“I’m here to support my soulmate,” you tell him instead, and it’s not entirely a lie. No matter what, you’ll always support Oikawa – here, back home, to whatever ends. That was the promise you’d made to each other long before you’d ever left Japan.

There’s a short pause, and you take the opportunity to turn back to the plate of food in front of you – you’d forgotten about it entirely. You half expect that he’ll take it as the perfect opportunity to politely bow out of the conversation. 

You might’ve been blind, but you’re not naive; you know exactly what athletes get up to after the sun goes down in the village. There’s a reason that your welcome packs were stuffed full of free condoms. 

And you’re not interested in that. You have Tooru and he has you. If that’s all that this guy is after; some quick, meaningless fuck, then–

“Volleyball?” he asks, and you almost roll your eyes.

He’s not wrong, of course he’s not, and you suppose considering your connection with Iwa it makes sense that he’d make that leap, but still. One track mind, all of them.

“If I tell you, you might not like me very much,” you say in lieu of an answer.

He leans closer, the chair creaking once more. “So I’m right.” He sounds so smug about it, you almost wanna tell him he’s wrong just to mess with him a little. “What position does he play?”

Not what team, what position. That, more than anything else, mattered to him – and again, you understood it. The pride players took in their position within the machine.

 “You first,” you shoot back instead, because you feel like you have a sneaking suspicion. 

And with a little huffing laugh, he confirms it, “Setter.”

Of course.

And the smile on your face tugs wider, a strange trill running through you, “Ah, and here I thought Kageyama,” you draw the name out, “was Japan’s starting setter.”

He scoffs, dragged in by your teasing jab, “Yer kiddin’, right? Tobio’s talented an’ all, but he ain’t half the setter I am.”

Cocky and smug. You wonder if he has the skills to back it up. Yet just as you open your mouth to pry further, you’re interrupted by a voice.

Several actually. 

“Talking shit again, Miya?”

“Who’s she?”

“Oh hey – Iwa’s friend!”

And your heart skips a beat, your body tensing as those voices close in, more chairs being pulled out, trays of food dumped on the table as his teammates settle down around you. It’s just a name, one name. It doesn’t mean anything, doesn’t–

“Atsumu, why don’t you shut– oh. Y/N, hey. Didn’t realise you'd be here. Isn’t the village restricted to athletes only?”

Kageyama’s blunt greeting isn’t intended to be antagonistic, but it washes over you regardless. You’re frozen, heart pounding, a sick, twisting feeling settling into your gut.

Atsumu, he’d said.

Miya Atsumu. 

Two words, and your world stops spinning. 

You’d promised him – Tooru – years ago that the name on your arm didn’t mean anything. It was all just a cruel cosmic mistake because from the moment you met him, you were his, and he was yours and nothing else mattered.

And you’d told yourself that, repeated it like a mantra until you started to believe it yourself. Because Tooru loved you, you were his soulmate and what kind of horrible fucking person would you be to take that gift, that bond and shove it back in his face.

Tooru isn’t perfect, and he’d freaked out and lied to you, but he’s your soulmate. 

The name on your arm didn’t matter, it didn’t matter that you didn’t know whose it was, because you had Tooru. It should have been his.

And you told yourself that for six months, until some blowout fight had Tooru storming out, you following in his footsteps. 

It was a stranger, some random passerby in the street. You can’t remember what prompted you to stop her and ask, why it suddenly mattered when Tooru had all but convinced you that it didn’t, but you had.

Miya Atsumu. The pronunciation had been unsure, her tongue clunky over the foreign syllables, but in that moment when you’d heard his name every lie you’d convinced yourself of had fallen apart.

It was like you’d been drowning without ever realising it, and the second you’d heard that name a hand was dragging you up to the surface and suddenly air was flooding your lungs.

Miya Atsumu.

There are voices surrounding you, somebody laughing uproariously, but it’s all just white noise. 

“Y/N,” a choked, hoarse whisper that shouldn’t have been heard, but it pierces you like a knife, cutting through everything else. It’s too much. 

On shaking legs you stand, knocking your chair back as you grab for your cane. 

The name hadn’t mattered, until you’d heard it. He hadn’t mattered, until he was standing right there in front of you.

“I– I have to go,” you mutter, not entirely sure if they heard you, or if they even cared. You leave your food untouched on the table, stumbling as you step back.

And again, you hear that whisper of your name. There’s a hand that reaches for you – his or somebody else’s you don’t know, you shrug it off regardless. “I have to go.”

Nobody stops you as you skitter back towards the entrance, but for once the cafeteria is silent. The moment you burst out through the double doors, the brisk, summer night air hits you like a slap, and you don't realise that your cheeks are wet with tears until the breeze cuts through, the damp skin prickling uncomfortably. 

And the sob that follows rips through your chest like a knife.

This isn’t what you wanted. 

If there’s a god out there, he must have a cruel sense of humour, because your name is being called again, and suddenly there’s a hand on your cheek brushing at your tears, an arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. “Cutie, what’s wrong?”

The scent of him, all citrus and summer, invades your nose as you clutch at him tighter. You can’t speak, can’t find the words to tell him, so you just squeeze your eyes shut and burrow into him. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he repeats, not asking this time. 

You take a deep, shuddering breath. “I want to go home,” you whisper, clutching at his jersey. “I wanna go home, Tooru.”

A kiss brushes against the crown of your head, and you almost miss the sound of footsteps pounding on the pavement behind you – at least until the interloper speaks.

“You–” Atsumu breaks off, his breath ragged and raw, and you don’t miss the way that Oikawa stiffens, his grip tightening, fingers digging in. “Yer my soulmate.”

Three simple words, and everything, everything just falls apart.

Tooru snarls, taking a step back and dragging you with him. “She’s not your anything, Miya. Fuck off.”

“You can’t leave me! You can’t - you’re mine!”

It hurts, the grip he has on you. He’s trembling, from rage or fear you honestly don’t know, but you can feel his heart pounding a vicious beat as his arms lock around you like a cage.

“Yeah, that’s why it’s my goddamn name on her arm. Let ‘er go, yer hurting her,” he snaps. 

“She’s my soulmate, so mind your own business and run off back home.”

You can’t breathe.

“Not when yer hurting her.”

It’s like the floor’s suddenly disappeared from beneath you, and you’re in free fall, hurtling back towards god knows what. Your head’s spinning, your legs feel like jelly, and if Tooru wasn’t holding you up against him, you’re not sure you’d still be standing. 

You can’t breathe. 

“Leave, right now,” he hisses. “She’s mine. She always has been, and always will be mine!”

You’d promised him that much, hadn’t you?

“Ya don’t scare me, and I don’t give a flying fuck if yer wearing her name on your arm. That’s my soulmate, and you’ll take yer fucking hands off ‘a her.”

You can’t breathe, not as the shouting gets louder and Tooru’s grip gets tighter. 

He takes another step back, pulling you with him, and another hiccuping sob catches in your throat. You try to speak, to stop this before it gets any worse, but the words won’t come–

“You’re hurting her!”

“I LOVE HER!” he screams. “I would never, ever hurt her!”

“T–Tooru, please…” you beg. It’s little more than a whisper, and neither one of them seems to hear it.

But somebody else does. 

“Hey, hey! What the fuck are you dumbasses doing?!” 

Iwa, always your second protector, your best and oldest friend, wastes no time in getting between the two of them, shoving Miya back.

“What is wrong with you both?!” he snaps, grabbing you by the wrist and ripping you from Oikawa. And you don’t fight it when he tugs you towards him, a protective arm wrapping around your waist. 

You cling to him, like a scared child with tears streaming down your face. 

“Iwa–”

“No, shut up. I don’t wanna hear a single word out of either one of you! Not a goddamn word!”

He doesn’t bother berating them in front of you, though you know that’ll come later. He doesn’t say anything to you either, but his hand doesn’t leave yours all the way back to his apartment. Not the one in the village, but the one just outside of the city.

“You knew, didn’t you?” you ask quietly when he drops his keys on the counter.

There’s a beat of silence, and he sighs. “Yeah, I knew.”

It’s hanging in the air between you, like a dark, stormy cloud about to unleash. “Iwa,” you whisper, your bottom lip trembling once more. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” he answers, as honestly as he can. “But you’re gonna stay here tonight, and tomorrow I’ll call Makki and Mattsun and they’ll come and take you back to Sendai for a little while if that’s what you want. You don’t have to see either one of those assholes, not until…” 

Not until you figure out how you’re supposed to make this impossible choice. 

He squeezes your shoulder as you sniffle. “It’s gonna be alright, whatever you decide to do.”

Neither one of you truly believes that, but what’s left to say?

He hugs you again before he leaves, makes you promise to call if you need him, but you both know you won’t.

Not tonight, not when he has other priorities. 

And then you’re alone, sitting on his couch surrounded by blankets with a mug of hot chocolate warming your hands. You know you should try to get some sleep, you’re exhausted, overwhelmed, but every time you close your eyes, you can’t stop thinking about it.

About the way Tooru’s voice had shook, how you’d smiled for Atsumu, that familiar warmth blooming in your chest when the two of you talked and you’d teased him.

And you remember how it was the day Tooru first told you that he loved you, the butterflies in your stomach the first time he’d kissed you, spinning you around and laughing as his lips met yours again and again and again. 

How he’d yelled and screamed and fallen apart in your arms that night, begging you not to leave him. 

You love him, for better or for worse, you love him. 

A loud knock echoes through the apartment, shaking you from your thoughts.

It’s almost 2am, and nobody but Iwa knows you’re here. Nobody should be knocking, and so you sit, frozen in the dark listening as your heart hammers uneasily.

One beat, then two, and then–

“I know you’re in there, just– just please. I need… I need–” he breaks off with a frustrated huff, and there’s a low thud, like his head’s fallen against the door. “Please,” he begs, quieter this time. 

There’s another thud.

“I need ya. Don’t lock me out, I’m beggin’.”

[triptuckers]

Like a dream - Kaz Brekker

Request: yes “Hello dear! Could I request an x reader with Kaz Brekker where he and the reader touch for the first time? I know that his touch aversion is a big deal so I imagine touching for the first time is a huge goal.” Pairing:  Kaz Brekker x reader Summary:  You had a dream in which you felt Kaz’ fingers on your skin, and it felt real but too good to be true. Until you tell Kaz about your dream the next morning. Warnings: mentions of Kaz’ touch aversion but that’s it Word count:  2K A/N: I still cannot get over the fact that freddy is the PERFECT kaz everyday I wake up and go hmmm yea he’s the perfect kaz <3 enjoy reading! 

Nights off in Ketterdam are rare. Normally, you always run off to do whatever activities you couldn’t do on a daily basis. But tonight, you’re tired. You don’t want to waste a rare night off by sleeping.

But given you’re too tired to actually do anything, and too stubborn to go to bed, you’re currently sitting on the couch in Kaz’ office. You’re curled up on one side and reading a book. 

Or rather, you’re trying to read a book. You keep re-reading the same words and occasionally your chin drops to your chest. But you fight off your tired body, telling yourself you should enjoy this rare peaceful moment in the Barrel. 

Kaz is sitting at his desk, frowning as he looks over several detailed maps of the city, silently mouthing words as he’s thinking. Every once in a while, you lower your book to sneak a glance at him. He’s so concentrated he doesn’t notice you. At least, you don’t think he does. 

Every time you look at him, Kaz feels your eyes on him. He then waits a minute or so before looking your way. 

Kaz rarely has a good night’s sleep, and everyone knows he’s not the one to just take naps during the day. He can tell you’re not like him. More than once you’d fallen asleep on his couch, and he doubts tonight is going to be any different. 

After a couple more minutes of you trying to read but not turning a page of your book, Kaz speaks up.

‘You can stay here tonight, if you’d like.’ he says.

You look up to see him looking at the maps in front of him. You smile and shake your head, though he doesn’t see it.

‘No, it’s fine.’ you say. ‘I’ll just go to my own room before I fall asleep.’

Kaz nods and you turn your attention back to the book in your hands. Though you’re tired, you don’t feel like going to your own room just yet. Moments like these with Kaz are rare, and you intend to enjoy every minute of alone time you can get with him. 

Most of the times it’s hard to get his mind off business even when it’s just the two of you. A lot of the conversations you have somehow always end up to be about whatever job he was planning in his head.

But moments like these had always been your favorite. Both you and Kaz just doing separate things, but still enjoying each other’s presence. You wished every night could be like this.

Your eyes move slower and slower across the page, looking at the words but  not remembering them. Your blinking turns into shutting your eyes for several seconds until eventually, sleep takes over.

When Kaz doesn’t hear from you or feel your eyes on him for a while, he looks up at you. His features soften when his eyes fall on you, asleep on the couch, still holding the book you were reading in your hand. 

He takes the small watch out of his pocket. You fought sleep off longer than he thought you would. 

Kaz stands up and walks over to you. He carefully takes off your boots, trying not to wake you. After placing them on the ground next to the couch, he takes the book out of your hands, marks the page and sets it aside as well. He shrugs off his coat and places it over your body as a blanket.

You stir and mumble a very sleepy ‘m not tired’, which makes Kaz smile. Soon after the words left your lips, your breathing turns slow and steady, and Kaz makes his way to the sink to was his face and hands before getting ready for bed as well.

He takes his time as he slowly tugs off the gloves and washes his hands. Kaz splashes some water in his face and runs a hand through his hair. When he crosses the office to get to his room, he stops to look at you one last time.

You look very peaceful, asleep on his couch and with his coat covering the majority of your body. He walks over to you and notices that one of your hands is on the couch next to your head.

You knew of his touch aversion, and Kaz is convinced he couldn’t find anyone else who was as patient as you are. You’d been together for quite some time, but hadn’t done as much as holding hands. You’d never even felt each other’s skin. 

Often, Kaz felt guilty about it. You both had human needs and desires, and he’d told you time and time again you should just find someone else who could give you what he couldn’t. But you always smiled and told him you’d rather wait a thousand years for him, than leave him for someone else only because they would be able to touch you. 

You’d tell him touch was just one form of a love language. And his love language simply wasn’t touch. You'd tell him about all the times he’d shown you he loved you without touching you. Looking out for you, having your back on jobs, small gifts or even just bringing you coffee in the morning. 

But now that he’s looking at you, Kaz feels yet again guilty. He wants to give you everything you want, he wants to touch you, but he just couldn't. Every time he’d touched someone’s skin, it had almost catastrophic results for him.

His eyes focus on your hand as he thinks of you. He wants to touch you, to feel your skin. 

After standing there for what feels like an eternity, Kaz slowly inches closer to you and reaches out a hand towards yours. He takes a few deep breaths in, trying to calm himself and pushing the memories away. 

He lets his index finger hover above your hand. And then he slowly lowers his finger, until his finger tip touches the palm of your hand. Kaz takes a deep breath and softly traces his finger across the palm of your hand. 

While still sleeping, you unknowingly curls your pinky around his finger. 

Kaz slowly pulls away, but with a smile on his face. It wasn’t much, but he didn’t have a panic attack, he didn't faint, he didn’t completely lose it. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. 

Feeling somewhat relieved, Kaz enters his room to go to sleep as well.

When you wake up the next morning, the first thing you notice is Kaz’ coat. It smells like him, and it makes you smile to yourself. You know this is something he’d never admit to doing if he was around others. He only ever let his guard down around you. 

You get up, wrapping his coat around you as you tiptoe over to the door to his room. You carefully open it, trying to make as little noise as possible. Kaz is till fast asleep, sprawled out on his stomach. You resist the urge of snuggling up next to him and close the door again.

After putting on your boots and leaving Kaz’ coat behind, you head downstairs to get a pot of coffee and two mugs. Luckily it’s not that busy this early in the morning, and no one notices your messy hair or the fact you’re still in last night clothes. If anyone would see you, you just knew they would tease you about it for the rest of the week.

You head back up the stairs, holding the coffee in one hand and the two mugs in the other. You can hear stumbling in some of the rooms you pass on your way up as the residents of the Slat starts to wake up. 

Upon arriving at Kaz’ floor, you push the door open with your shoulder. While you were downstairs, Kaz had woken up. He’s standing next to his desk and putting on his gloves.

‘Morning.’ you say as you walk over to the desk and set the coffee and the mugs down. ‘I was early, so it’s still fresh.’

You sit down in the chair in front of his desk and pour the coffee in the mugs. Kaz sits down behind his desk as you hand him his coffee. You take a sip of the warm drink and close your eyes.

‘You always do that.’ Kaz points out. You open your eyes to look at him. ‘I always do what?’ you say. ‘Closing your eyes when you take that first sip of coffee in the morning.’ he says. ‘Well, what can I say, everyone needs their coffee in the morning, so why not enjoy it?’ you say.

Kaz takes a sip of his coffee and pulls one of the maps he had been studying toward him. At the sight of his gloved fingers, you suddenly remember last night.

‘I dreamt about you last night.’ you say. ‘Hmm did you?’ mumbles Kaz as he looks at the map.

‘Yea.’ you say. ‘I dreamt you touched my hand, without gloves.’

Kaz looks up at you but you’re focused on your hands. You’re tracing one of you fingers over the palm of your hand.

‘You traced your finger over my hand, like that.’ you say, repeating the motion. ‘It felt so real, for a moment after I woke up, I thought it wasn't a dream. But that’s a stupid thing to think.’

‘It’s not stupid.’ says Kaz. ‘Because it wasn’t a dream.’

You finally look up at him. He looks at you in that same calm way he always looks at you. Your eyes widen as you realise what he’d just said.

‘It wasn’t a dream?’ you say, repeating his words. ‘But why- how?’

Kaz shrugs. ‘You seemed so peaceful last night. I couldn’t resist.’ he says. 

You start to grin after hearing his words, making him raise his eyebrows in question at you.

‘Kaz Brekker, you couldn’t resist touching someone’s skin?’ you say. ‘You never touch someone’s skin, not even mine, and now you’re telling me last night you couldn’t resist it?’

Kaz takes another sip of his coffee, as you’re waiting for his answer. 

‘I can’t help but to let down my walls around you.’ says Kaz. ‘You’re the only one who has ever seen my hands.' 

‘I’m going to count that as a love confession.’ you say and Kaz shakes his head but chuckles as well. 

‘I’m proud of you, Kaz.’ you say after a while. ‘That must have been everything but easy for you.’

‘It certainly wasn’t easy.’ admits Kaz. ‘But I’m willing to try and see how far I can go. For you.’ 

You smile and take a sip of your coffee. The two of you finish your coffee in silence, enjoying each other’s company before the daily chaos of the Slat starts.  You’re looking out the window, your chin resting on your hand.

‘Y/N?’ says Kaz, getting your attention, and you turn to face him. Your eyes follow his line of sight and you notice he’s taken his gloves off.

‘Kaz.’ you say, gentle but firm. ‘You do not have to do anything you don’t want to or aren’t comfortable with.’ 

‘I know.’ says Kaz, still looking at his hands. ‘But I trust you.’

You watch his hands as one of them slowly inches closer to your hand on the table. Neither of you is saying anything, the both of you just silently watching your hands. 

And then you feel Kaz’ fingers brush over yours. It’s only a few seconds, and then he pulls away again, immediately pulling his gloves back on. You smile as you look at your fingers, trying to hold the moment of the feeling of his fingers against yours.

‘It’s not much but-’ ‘It’s enough for me.’ you say, interrupting him.

Kaz looks at you and you smile at him. ‘You are enough for me.’ you say. ‘This is all I ever want, Kaz, you’re all I want.’

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬5/end

Warnings: nonconsensual touching, fingering, deceptive behaviour, allusions to abuse, blood, violence/death, fucking.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Note: Another finale! Hahahhaa, hope you like it!

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You went to bed with shame burning in your cheeks but the heat quickly travelled to your loins as you thought of the scene at the drive-in. When you closed your eyes, you felt Arvin’s weight on you and his hand between your legs. You rolled onto one side, then the other, tossing and turning as you couldn’t escape the memory or the lingering sensation of his touch.

He was already downstairs when you woke up, a lazy Saturday morning as the garage was closed for the weekends. He was at the counter, boiling water for the coffee as you came down in a plain peach dress and flats. He looked over his shoulder and smiled at you, urging you to sit.

“I’m gonna make you breakfast, honey,” he announced as he filled the coffee press, “you know, my ma was a waitress. Worked down at this greasy diner when she met my dad. Before she died…” he stopped and his throat bobbed, “I dunno, I just remember the smell of her cookin’.”

“I’m sorry, Arvin,” you said as you took a seat at the table, “about your mother.”

“Why? It was so long ago, I hardly remember,” he shrugged as he searched the cupboards and pulled out the cast iron pan, “you know, I can barely even see my pa in my mind. Even when I really think. I feel like I’ve lived a dozen lifetimes already.” He put the metal to the burner, “but I think I found the one I want.”

You ran your fingertips along your throat nervously as you leaned your elbows on the table. You felt the void left by your missing wedding ring. You clapped your hands together and lowered them to the wood.

You watched him work in the kitchen. When you tried once to get up and help, he bid you back down tersely and you obliged. You felt restless sitting there as someone else did everything. He put a cup of coffee before you and sipped from his own between flipping the eggs.

Finally, he presented you with a plate of hash, egg, toast, and bacon. You thanked him as he sat and you picked up your fork and knife. You weren’t very hungry, the anxiety squeezed your stomach as you watched his hand. He buttered a slice and you recalled the tingle as his fingers sank into you.

You dropped your fork and apologised for the loud clang. You picked it back up and pushed the potato around. You were trying to think of what to say. Of how to say it. Arvin wasn’t volatile like Roy but he showed glimmers of anger that troubled you nonetheless.

“Last night…” you began.

“You liked it?” he perked up and swallowed, “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Arvin,” you uttered.

“I just… you’re so wonderful and warm, I never known a woman like you,” he ranted, “and I… I never been with a woman, you know? I hope I didn’t leave you wanting--”

“Arvin,” you said more firmly, “I’m married.”

His face fell and he leaned back in his chair. He looked down as he scooped up some egg and hash and shoved it in his mouth. He chewed tight-lipped. His steely silence was worse than any punch. You shoved some yolk in your mouth and chewed.

“I…” you began, “I’m not meaning to upset you but we can’t just pretend--”

A deafening bang sounded and shook the house. Your breath caught as you looked at Arvin with wide eyes and he cleared his throat as he stood.

“Where is ya, boy?” Roy hollered as another blast came and you heard the door jolt. You rose and looked down the hall as slivers decorated the floor below the holes peppered in the wood. “I heard about you and my wife…” footsteps clamoured up the steps of the porch, “you think you can pull a gun on me? Well, I got a bigger one, boy!”

“Shit,” Arvin pulled you back as another gunshot blew out the handle, “go, hide.”

He shoved you away and turned back to the table. He tossed the butter knife and hurried to the counter. He pulled out a drawer and took out a steak knife. He shook his head and glanced over at you again.

“Go on,” he snarled.

“No, you,” you ran to him and touched his arm, “go, I’ll talk to him--”

“He’ll kill you,” he whispered.

“No, he won’t,” you assured, “he woulda done it years ago, Arvin, go.”

You pointed him to the back door and he shook his head. You met his eyes as he glanced back at you and you nodded. 

“It’ll be fine, I’ll get him gone and come find you when he goes,” you promised, “Arvin, I can’t see you die because of me.”

His eyes searched your face and he touched your cheek. “Alright, honey,” he breathed, “you know I’ll do anything for you, don’t you?”

“Go,” you insisted as the door flew inward with a heavy kick.

Arvin scrambled away and the back door creaked in his stead as you turned to near the doorway and peer past the staircase. Roy kept the double barrel level as he pointed it at you. You quivered but tried not to show your terror.

“Roy,” you greeted through your tight throat.

“You whore,” he cocked the gun and you flinched, “I oughta shoot your fuckin’ head off too, but I just want the boy. Where is he?”

“I… I dunno, he just went out front, I thought you woulda seen him,” you lied as you filled the doorframe with your body, realising the table set for two would give away your deception.

“Don’t you be hidin’ him from me, you’re still my wife,” Roy snarled as you came closer, trying to keep him from the kitchen, “and I’m gonna put down that punk and remind you who I am. Who you are.”

“I am your wife, Roy,” you said evenly, “I can never forget that, now please, lower the gun, I’ll help you find him.”

“I ain’t believe you, you let him beat me--”

“What was I supposed to do?” you touched the metal muzzle, “he been keepin’ me here. He has a gun too, you know that.” You slid past the barrel and hesitantly reached to touch his chest, “I been so scared without you here, you’re my husband, Roy, and I love--”

He sputtered and flinched suddenly. The gun sagged and fired into the floorboards beside your shoes. The metal slid from his grasp and fell down smoking as a red splotch stained the dingy fabric of his shirt. The cascade spread as he staggered and you saw the wooden handle of the steak knife stick out from his side.

Arvin pulled the blade out as you tripped over the gun and toppled to the floor. Roy slumped to his knees as the younger man brought the knife down over his shoulder and sank it into his heart. Your lungs puffed with panic at the sickly crunch as the blade twisted between his ribs.

Your eyes widened and blurred with tears as bitterness filled your stomach. You opened your mouth and screamed as Roy fell onto his stomach and gasped out his last breaths. You felt a slickness on your cheek as a hand touched you and an arm wrapped around you. You blinked and Arvin came clear as he held the knife against your face and pulled you into his lap to cradle you.

“Wh--wh--wh--” you babbled as your eyes found your husband, completely still across the floorboards.

“He can’t hurt you no more,” Arvin cooed as he rocked you, “I heard him, he said he was gon’ shoot you. I told you, honey, I’ll do anything for you. Anything to keep you safe.”

🚬

The porcelain was cold against your body as you sat in the tub, the hot water slowly rose around you. Arvin shoved your bloody clothes in a bag and took off his own. He tied up the sack, his hands still tinged scarlet. He put the bundle in the sink and neared the wall of the footed tub.

You watched him step over the side, his stomach tightly muscles, his figure much more slender than Roy’s, though his arms were thick and his shoulders wide. He lowered himself across from you as he sat with his back to the flowing faucet. The water deepened and scalded your skin.

He took a cloth and scrubbed your face, your neck, your chest above the surface of the water. You were numb as you felt itchy, as if bugs crawled over every inch of flesh. He stood you up and finished washing you. He was gentle but firm, lingering around your curves as his brown eyes drank you in.

He took a new cloth for himself and after wiping off the droplets across his face and rinsing his body, he scratched the red from around his nails. You shivered as he helped you out of the tub and hugged you in a towel. He led you to the bed and laid you down under the quilt.

“Gonna drive out and find a ditch,” he said as he dressed. “Finish cleaning when I get back. Probably need another bath then.”

You said nothing as you stared at the ceiling, a searing white.

“Honey,” he neared and pressed his hand to your forehead, “I know you’re shook. He tried to kill ya. We both heard him say it.”

You looked at him and your eyes dampened. He bent and pecked your lips and retracted his hand reluctantly.

“I’ll try not to be too long,” he promised and pulled on his denim jacket.

He left you and you listened to his footsteps fade. You closed your eyes and saw Roy’s blood spilling forth like a tainted river. You could hear the scraping as he was dragged across the wood, Arvin’s grunts as you watched him struggle to roll your husband’s large body in a sheet.

Your lashes flicked open but the picture is painted vivid in your mind. You hear the car and the engine fades into the soft sway of trees and the noise of critters in the grass. You don’t have the strength to do more than lay there. Time passes by your stagnant eyes and the shadows set in from the corner of the room. The windows darkened and deepened your gloom.

Arvin startled you as he appeared at the door. You didn’t hear the approach of his car or his footsteps on the stairs. He neared and kissed you again. He pulled the chain on the lamp and it cast a yellow haze over you.

“You’re awake,” he said as he stood straight, “I needa wash up again.” You hummed and stayed as you were, “you want tea?”

You shook your head and he watched you. He clamped his thin lips together and backed away.

“Found his truck, just down the way,” he pulled his grey tee over his head, “looks like he drove out to the river, walked up here. Make sure it was seen so he can’t be traced up here. Smarter than he looked.” Arvin bent to untie his boots. “I left it in the water, put it into gear and let it drift off.”

You rolled onto your side and pulled the blanket to your ear. He quieted as you listened to the rustle of his clothing as he stripped it away.

“Anyhow, they won’t find him,” he said, “likely he told whoever, if anyone even cared, that he was goin’ fishin’.”

He waited for an answer but didn’t get it. He went into the bathroom and you heard the pipes rattle as he twisted on the faucet. You felt the dampness cross the hallway and seep into the room. When he returned, he gave a sigh and tossed his towel over the old chair sat by your vanity.

He folded the blanket back and you closed your eyes at his nudity. He slid in next to you and tugged the blanket over his shoulders. He circled his arm around you and brought your body against his. Suddenly, you felt everything as you were set alight by the heat of his flesh.

“Honey,” he said softly as he framed your face with his hand, “I’m here. You’re safe with me.”

You quivered and pushed your hands to his chest. You’d never been naked with another man, never seen another man naked. In the tub, you hardly figured what was happening but then, it was all too real as you felt his cock twitch against your thigh.

“Didn’t I save you? He would killed both of us,” he rasped, “honey, I know, I’ve met so many men like him…” he rubbed his nose against yours, “and killed every one of them.”

You winced and your fingers curled into his shoulders. He smothered you with a kiss as his hand trailed down and he cupped your chest. He groaned as he fondled you, tilting his hips to rub his dick against you. He rolled your nipple under his thumb as he dragged his lips down your cheek and chin.

His hand crept around your side as he slipped lower to nibble your breasts. Roy never touched you like that. Early on he was clumsy but impatient, and after a while, he was thankless and cruel. Arvin was gentle, doting and diligent. He suckled at your bud and the tugging plucked at your core.

“Mmm,” he left a path of spit down your stomach as he nudged you onto your back, “honey, you’re so beautiful,” he disappeared beneath the blanket and pushed your legs apart as he nuzzled your pelvis, his hot breath tickling your patch of hair.

He purred as nosed your cunt and his tongue dipped between your folds. You murmured and reached down to grasp his damp hair. You brought your thighs against his head and arched your back as he tended to you, slow and scintillating as he filled you with a yearning you’d never known before.

You didn’t think as you tangled your fingers in his locks and tilted your pelvis against his lapping. You shouldn’t feel this way, should feel so good. Your husband was dead and there was another man in your bed. You were a whore, just as he said. But it felt good and he wasn’t there to tell you again.

Arvin moaned as he devoured you, his hands hungrily groped your ass as he lifted you slightly from the bed. He pushed a finger against your entrance and eased into you. You gasped and he dipped another inside of you. He moved his hand in time with his mouth, his groans rumbling through you.

You hooked your legs under his arm and cried out as you came. Your body spasmed and jerked and you rode out the shattering ascent. You shook as you stilled and kissed your thighs with his wet lips, smearing your juices across your flesh. 

You panted as he pushed himself up and the blanket fell down his back, leaving both your bodies bare to the soft glow of the lamp. His hands roved over your body and he bent again, kissing every inch his fingertips danced over first. He brought his lips back to yours and you tasted the sweetness as he forced his tongue into your mouth.

He pushed his thighs to yours so your legs bent around them, wide and welcoming. He parted and stared down at you, his deep brown eyes swallowing you up.

“The moment I saw you, I knew,” he said as he caressed your cheek, “and I haven’t stopped thinking of this ever since that moment.”

“Arvin,” you sighed and touched his wrist.

“I’ll take care of you, honey,” he reached down between your bodies as he planted and elbow into the pillow. He ran his tip along your wet folds and his jaw clenched. “I’ll keep you safe, I’ll keep you…” he pressed against you until his tip was inside you, “forever.”

“Arvin,” you gulped and gripped his muscled arms, “I…”

“He’s gone,” he sank further into you and kissed you again, “and you’re mine.”

You moaned and he bottomed out with a gasp. His body tensed and he shuddered as he wiggled his hips.

“God, you’re so perfect,” he groaned, “so warm, so… sweet. Oh, honey.”

“Please…” you croaked as your eyes watered.

You didn’t know if it was the bloodiness of the day or that you’d never felt anything so pleasant, so gentle, so caring. You didn’t know why you were crying or why your body buzzed like cicadas under the moon. You pushed your head into the pillow as he pressed his fingers to your clit and rubbed in time with his steady thrusts.

“Honey,” he droned and kissed your wet cheek between each stroke, “oh, you’re so nice.”

He tilted into you over and over. You brought your legs around him and hooked your arms under his as you clawed at his back. Your body contorted with his as your eyes rolled back and you succumbed to the stolid heat coursing through your veins. You cried out and let your hands fall down as you groped his ass, begging for more.

The bed quaked as he grew more fervent in his appetite, the pain was dulled by the sheer bliss and you sang out your delight. There was nothing but his body and that radiating pulse in your core. You came again and again as you whined ravenously and dug your nails into his flesh.

He jerked into you with a fluttery breath. His hips stuttered and he fell limp over you. His head hung over your shoulder as he huffed. His cum coated your walls in a salacious heat and you ran your hands up his back. He turned his head to kiss your temples, tears still rolling down to your lobes.

As your nerves stilled and the afterglow dimmed, reality shrouded you once more. The body over yours felt heavier as you were paralysed against the bed. Arvin drew you with him as he rolled onto his side and held you. It was nice but tinged with the horror wrought by his hands.

You didn’t miss Roy but you didn’t feel free either.

🚬

Arvin rolled out the rug over the bloodstain in the hall, the whole covered over  with a thin board of scrap. You watched and clutched your purse then checked the clock. He stood and neared to fetch his jacket from the small square corner table. He pulled it over the button-up that once belonged to your dad and the tie that was Roy’s.

His hair was combed back tidily and he wore a carefree smile. His eyes twinkled as he offered his hand and gestured to the door. The frame was curtained with a sheet as the shredded wood was removed and another would be ordered from Tim’s Hardware. He clung to your hand as he followed you out into the Sunday sunlight.

“We don’t have to go,” you said as he swung your hand and led you to the Chevrolet, “I know you don’t like it.”

“Nah, we should go to church,” he smiled and spun you to kiss you. He held your face between your hands as his lips lingered overly long. “Let the lord and all the other holy people see me and my girl.”

“Arvin,” you shied away.

He reached past you and opened the door. You sat and he gripped the metal as he looked down at you.

“I will keep my hands to myself before the lord,” he avowed, “I only ask his blessing for what I know to be his work.”

You considered him and wrung the short strap of your purse, “I thought you didn’t believe in God.”

“I didn’t, not before,” he said with a smile, “not ‘til I met you. His most precious angel.”

You chewed your lip and turned your face down. He chuckled and closed the door. He got in the driver’s side and the engine rolled over. His hand wandered over to your lap as he steered with one hand. You looked out the window and stared up at the pale blue sky.

You didn’t believe in God. You couldn’t. Just like your father said, a benevolent lord would not gift such suffering to his creation. There was no all-knowing being sitting in the clouds, no glorious purpose for you or any other. There were only devilish men and their dark deeds.

[wornoutmouse]

Cow Endeavor

Don't ask no questions you don't want answered. Either way, i have no answers for you. I cried while writing this

Praise kink, male lactation (🙃 say something i dare you) farm au, y'all know i love my breeding kink.

You were a simple farm hand. Every morning you'd wake up, feed the animals, and water the crops. It was your job to make sure everything was in order and working properly. In the essence of things working properly, that meant you had to take care of the farm's prized cow, Enji.

You weren't sure how or when he got here, he had just always been there. What you do know was that his performance in producing milk was so great that he had become the pinnacle for your farm, a mascot even. A cow that could make milk without even needing to be bred.

So it's understandable the panic everyone went into when their prized cow stopped producing his prized milk. "I just don't understand, he just had a calf but there's not even milk for hj., we had to result to bottle feeding!"

You pat Keigo's back reassuringly, "It's going to be okay, have you ever considered that maybe he's just too old now?" Takami's face paled, "You're right, what if our poor Endeavor has run his course?!" He then grips the front of your overalls and gazes you with a look that pierces your soul.

"You have to fix this, if they find out he's no longer making milk, you know what they'll do to him!" You nodded, retirement for farm animals was never fun, they'd either try to force his glands to make milk with dangerous chemically induced hormones, or it would be off to the chopping block.

So now, standing in front of Enji's stall, you take a deep breath to steady yourself. Though his primary caretaker, you had never seen Enji in person so this would be either overwhelming or underwhelming.

Opening the swinging doors, you stand amazed. It may be called a stall but it was nothing less than a renovated room. There was, of course, a wooden trough where his hay and water was, but there was also a nice bed for him and even a damn vanity with a 6ft tall mirror.

"Are you the butcher?" You jump and swivel your head around. There standing at a whopping 6,11, was the prized Enji.

His blue eyes were cold as they glared down at you, and if you hadn't seen his massive pecs, you would have confused him for a bull.

"Uh, no I'm not. I guess you could say I'm going to be your doctor today." Enji rolled his eyes and walked past you. He sits on his bed and for a moment, you saw a look of sadness etched in his scared face. A reminder of a past problem.

"Look I'd recommend you replace me with Touya, he can't do it as often but the quality in milk is just as good. I only ask that you allow little Shouto to sleep with him here, he gets terrible nightmares when he's alone."

You cursed your bleeding heart as you were two sentences from crying. Shouto was his most recent calf,, not even old enough to graze, yet he was far away from his mother where he should be, sucking and carefree.

"Well I hope it doesn't come to that, can you get comfortable?"

Enji lays on his back, sinking into the soft bed below him. You step out the stall and grab your bag of tools. You walk up to Enji and feel your face warm as he looks back at you. His face remained stoic as he watched your hands maneuver the bag clamps.

You let out a loud shriek as a warm hand envelopes your left breast. "If you were a cow, I'm sure you'd make excellent milk." You laugh awkwardly before breaking into a coughing fit as Enji releases you.

"Thanks, could you remove your top for me?" Enji sits up and does as you ask and you balk at how much bigger his chests were when released. "Mommy milkers." You whisper to yourself, catching Enji's attention. "What did you say?"

"Nothing!" You put your stethoscope in your ears, and hold the circle piece to his chest, uttering small apologies when he hisses at the cool temperature. You do the normal required check up before moving to the current task at hand.

You start to put on your latex gloves but it's stopped by Enji shading his head. "I don't like the way they feel." So with your bare hands, you examine his chest.

First you massage the skin around his nipple to try to coax some milk out. With no luck, you decide to pay attention to the actual nipples balancing from prodding to pinching them. "Normally when things like this happen it means that something could be blocking the exit." Enji huffed, "Why won't you people accept that I'm just old?!"

You ignore him and continue. You feel around the swell of his breasts and push inwards with two fingers. At that, you faintly catch the sight of his pink buds being coated with clear shiny liquid. Enji's face warmed at the feeling of it dripping down the valley of his chest.

"See, what did I tell you!? It just needed a little coaxing!" You press and prod more trying to coax a consistently white spurt of milk but soon run dry. Enji's face was completely red and sweat had accumulated on his brow. He was internally thankful for the pants he requested as an embarrassingly large bulge was present just below the fabric.

"S-See all that was just a shadow of what I once was." You flick his nip and shake your head, promptly missing how his eyes gently rolled back at the feeling. "Calm down edge lord. I think you need a constant force, I'm going to go get Shouta and see if he can suck more out and hopefully shift whatever is blocking."

You stand up and give Enji a reassuring smile. Rising into a panic, Enji grabbed your forearm, "Don't bring him!" You pout your lips, "Well who do you want me to bring?"

Enji grits his teeth, he didn't want any of his calves to see him in such a state, but he knew this was an opportunity for him to stay at the farm a little while longer. Gently, you feel yourself being tugged.

You trip over yourself, slightly leaning over Enji which gave him the perfect opportunity to cradle the back of your head. He says nothing as he holds you closer, and it wasn't until you saw his flushed face, that you realised what he wanted.

"E-Enji, I don't think this is appropriate I-" Enji wastes no time before pressing his hardened nipple into your partially open mouth. Your protest is muffled as he pressed your face closer. His eyes closed tightly as your warm breath fans over his cool skin.

Soon you realise that you were not going to be let go anytime soon. You reposition yourself the best he would allow you before closing your eyes as well, and sucking gently. Enji lets out a sigh that reverberated down his body.

You let out a muffled exclamation as you feel a warm liquid

flow into your mouth. It was thicker than the clear liquid you saw before, bittersweet and addicting without any additives. It was easy to see how Enji had become the prized cow.

Enji's grip slackened when he felt you relax against him, but you barely noticed as you became enraptured in the taste of his milk. In a strange way, suckling from him felt almost intimate in a maternal way.

Despite your innocent feelings, Enji found himself becoming aroused at the sight of you enjoying him. In all his years of work, he had never seen someone, besides his calves, drink his product.

"D-Do you like it?" You hum around him and he had to clench his teeth so he wouldn't release any sounds. You find yourself getting pliant in his arms, becoming more focused on getting more of the psweet liquid.

You soothingly lave your tongue around his nipple and Enji can't help but let out a small moan. His dick was painfully hard in his cotton pants and there was only so much he could take.

You remove yourself from him with a wet pop, before applying a kiss to his swollen bud. Rather high off happy chemicals, you stand shakily to your feet. Enji had drool and small dribbles of milk spurting from the unattended side of his chest. "You were so good for me Enji. I'm sure this will get you up and running in no time!"

With that, you utter a quick "thank you" and walk away, missing the large splotch of cum leaking from the fabric crotch of Enji's pants.

🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄

It was 3 weeks before you saw Enji again. And you don't deny that you were avoiding him. What you did was beyond inappropriate and uncalled for. You should have pulled away and called for one of his calves.

But avoiding your job is just as easy as it sounds.

"Hey y/n, Enji thinks he's running dry again. Even though there seems to be nothing wrong when the machine mills him, I think you should go check and make sure." You stiffen and shovel a mouthful of lettuce into your mouth.

"If there's nothing wrong, I have no reason to go. Besides why can't you do it." Keigo looks at you with a raised eyebrow, "He requested you specifically." You feel your chest flutter with an unknown emotion and you quickly finish your lunch to avoid any conversation.

You enter Enji's stall the next day and watch silently as he immediately removes his shirt. Ever since your first meeting, his chests had doubled in size since the milk had finally been allowed to move freely. The sight of them excited you, and you couldn't help but feel conflicted.

You sit in a small chair next to Enji's bed and examine his swollen breasts. Even the slightest touch caused milk to spill forth and it became hard to ignore. "You're not really starting to dry up are you?"

Enji sighs before sitting up. "Ever since that day I couldn't get you out of my head." You tilted your head confused as Enji cups his breasts before trailing his large hands down his stomach to his crotch before gripping his obvious manhood.

"Enji this is going beyond inappropriate." The large man made a sound that was a cross between a desperate whine and a grunt similar to that of a bull. "Don't deny that you like it too, I saw the look on your face." You lowered your head unable to look at his eyes.

Thoughts mulled over in your head about what type of punishment you could receive from possibly contaminating merchandise. Would the milk be different? People have been sending letters about how much sweeter Enji's milk has gotten.

Ah, but the thought of Enji's sweet sustenance on your tongue made your mouth water. Enji hid a small smirk as he saw you finally make up your mind. He had missed you since your last encounter, he spent nights thinking of you as his tits swelled with milk.

You untie your work apron and toss it on the stool before straddling Enji's thick legs. In the back of your mind, the logistics of his height and weight made your shiver at the thought of his cock.

Enji brings you in for a kiss and the rather off putting taste of oats and spring grass floods your senses as your tongues intertwine. You use your hands to massage his breasts and feel your front become warm as you subsequently squeeze out some of his milk.

You place hurried kisses along his jaw as you make your way to the true treasure. The sweet taste of his milk overrides your morning meal and you are baffled by how different it was from last time.

Enji, no longer feeling shy, let out a groan as he holds your head close to him. His free hand pulls his leaking cock out and strokes it in time with your rough tongue as you press it against his sensitive bud.

"Harder my little flower." You sigh with contentment at the nickname and do as ordered. You feel Enji flex below you and you take pride in it.

You scoot your lower body closer to his groin and rock your hips against him. The feeling of your denim pants against his throbbing cock was almost too much yet too little.

"Please, let me be inside you." You raise your head to look at him and Enji almost coos at the milky dribble rolling out the corner of your mouth. You were such a small thing, needed to be fed, needed to be protected and most importantly, needed to be bred.

Dazed, you shimmy off your pants and underwear and grind your hips. "B-Be gentle okay?" You were trembling on top of him and it was absolutely adorable. "Of course my flower."

In the corridor Keigo was making his way towards Enji's stall. It had been beyond the recommended time for an examination so he was coming to see what was taking you so long.

As he comes upon the door, the sound of whining fills his ears. "Just a little bit longer, flower." His eyes widen and he takes four steps away from the stall door. "You sly fox y/n fraternizing with the produce." Keigo shakes his head in disapproval before shrugging with a small grin.

"None of my business."

The feeling of fullness was strange and uncomfortable. Enji was not long whatsoever, that was another characteristic that set him apart from the bulls. But he was thick to the point where you knew you'd have to work extra hard to accommodate him.

"You're doing so well for me flower." You rub your face against his bosom and resume drinking from him. The taste of his milk was therapeutic and before you knew it, he was thrusting fluidly inside of you.

The thickness of his shaft rubbed just right against your g-spot. The feeling of your soft lips alternating between each nipple, made Enji speed up his menstruations for he could no longer contain his pleasure.

He was sad that he couldn't bring you to completion as well but that can always be saved for next time. The feeling of his semen filling you felt just as amazing as the milk flooding your mouth and you clenched tightly around him.

🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄

"It's not funny Keigo!" "Really? I think it's hilarious." You groan as you cradle your slightly protruding belly. You should have seen it coming, and subconsciously, you weren't surprised to see two pink lines on the pregnancy test that you took 4 months ago.

Now at 7 months and obviously showing, Keigo took the opportunity to bring up the fact that he was there when your new child was consummated therefore reserved the right to be it's godfather.

Telling Enji the news went scarily smooth as the cow bastard only replied with, "Of course you are pregnant, I'm the sire." Followed by him asking to try your milk as well, so he could critique. All his calves, now yearlings, seemed to take the news just fine and only seemed excited to pick baby names.

"Look, all I'm saying is, don't come crying when little junior starts asking about the family business." You groan as the dirty blond man continues his jokes. A small content smile is present on your face.

[lovely-jily]

potions and locked closets

hey!! sorry this is such a long fic BUT i just wanted to say that i’m also working on this same fic but from lily’s pov lmk if you’d want that:))) thanks and i love you all so freakin much <3

James tried to steady his breathing. His heart was already beating too quickly for his liking, and he hadn't even seen her yet. He was already surprised that she agreed to be his partner; they both know that it would likely be another hour of pointless bickering but nonetheless. Lily Evans had agreed to partner with James for their weekly project Slughorn had assigned. She finally said yes to something.

"Fine," she had said after he asked her, following it up with, "But I'll undoubtedly need help with Transfiguration this week, so if you swear to help me, then I suppose we can partner."

In all honesty, James wasn't having too much trouble with his Elixer to Induce Euphoria, but he just wanted an excuse for Lily to be with him. And maybe if she saw that he had matured at least a little bit, it would make her start to tolerate him.

If that were even possible.

The dungeons were decently empty, but Lily had intentionally reserved the potions room in advance so no one else would be around. Meaning they would be completely and totally alone.

When he walked into the room, she was fiddling with the size of the fire under the cauldron. She was at the desk she usually sat in, the second row to the left, with her back to him.

"Evening Evans," He said, setting his bag on the table and standing next to her, "I see you've started already."

"Well, I actually want a good score on this," She exhaled through her mouth and flipped through her Potions book, her dainty fingers lingering on the words "Elixer to Induce Euphoria".

"I'm right there with you," he said, rolling up his sleeves. He watched Lily's eyes dart from his arms back to her textbook. From what James could see, she already gathered the ingredients and had them neatly organised in front of them.

"Alright, you can start by skinning these then?" She said, swiftly handing him the Shrivelfigs.

"Got it," he noted the way her eyes darted up to his for a second when she was handing him the Shrivelfigs, their skin touching momentarily. While it was only a second, it was long enough to cause James to hitch his breath in an all too noticeable way.

He started skinning the flower, trying to ignore the way her perfume smelled or the curve of her jaw. She tied her hair up in a low ponytail, pulling out tiny wispy hairs that framed her face. He chastised himself for the dirty thoughts that followed, but, Jesus, he couldn't help his want to do the most unholy things to her when she did that.

She started working on porcupine quills as he attempted to pull himself together.

"I wish we got Amortentia."

James took a sharp inhale, resulting in him coughing on his own spit. She, Lily Evans, the same Lily Evans who insisted she hated every fibre of his being every day since they were twelve, wanted to make a love potion with him- James! James Potter! As in the same James Potter that she would shoot daggers at any excuse, the boy she would scold any second she could, the boy-

"It's just so much more of a challenge compared to this one," she finished.

Right. Of course. That's why Lily wanted to make that potion, no other reason, as much as James wanted there to be.

"At least we didn't get Felix Felicis. That takes a while," He ignored the feeling of his heart sinking and his stomach twisting as he finished up the Shrivelfigs. He should've known that was the reason, but he couldn't help but innocently jump to conclusions with her.

"What did Amortentia smell like for you?" She asked, causing James to start jumping to conclusions again.

How do I answer this honestly without giving away the fact that I smelled her?"

"Fresh bread, rain, and- uh- my mother's shampoo," He mentally kicked himself for bringing up his mother, but it was the quickest thing he could think of on the spot, "What about you?"

She sighed, stirring in the quills, "The ocean, my mum's hot chocolate and a cologne of some kind, but I couldn't place where that one was from."

A pang of jealousy beat along with James's heart as he thought about her smelling another lads cologne. Whoever he was, he was a prick.

She shook her head quickly as she seemed to panic for a moment, hastily saying, "Anyways, I'm sure it doesn't matter."

She fiddled with the ladle, brushing the few hairs out of her face. Her cheeks were bright red.

"You alright there, Evans?" He asked as he turned to look at her. He swallowed what felt like all his dignity and pride but was actually just the extra spit that always was around with Lily.

"Just fine," She cleared her throat and handed him the Sopophorous beans, not looking at him, "Would love it if you could start working on these, though."

"Got it," he mumbled as he started dicing the beans.

"No, Potter," His heart lightened a little at the sound of his name in her voice, even if it was to chastise him, "Those are far too small. They'll dissolve too quickly."

"What do you mean, this is how Slughorn does it-"

"Slughorn always cuts things too small, but he makes up for it by moving a little quicker-"

"Well, that's stupid. What kind of a teacher-"

"James," She looked up at him, sighing, and despite her exhausted expression, his lungs lifted immensely at the sound of his first name. She never used his first name.

"Yes, Evans?"

"Could you perhaps go find more in the Potions closet? I think it'll just make things a lot easier."

"Got it."

The closet was cluttered, full of misplaced ingredients from students whose first priority clearly wasn't organisation. After a solid minute of staring at the mess, he called her in to help him.

"What do you mean 'Can't find them'- I just saw them," she huffed, shoving herself next to him in the tight space. James would be lying if he said he didn't do this on purpose but let the boy live. He would take any excuse to be in close proximity to the girl.

"Not sure how anyone could find anything in here. I feel bad for the poor bloke who has to clean this during detention," He said, hands on his hips as she stood in front of him, green eyes scanning the shelves. The closet door closed behind her, and while they weren't any closer than they were by the desks, it almost felt like she was right on top of him. It was taking his total concentration to not think about shoving her against the door and having a long-awaited snog.

"It'll probably be Sirius," she said, glancing at him, a smirk on her face.

He chuckled as he looked at the messy shelves, suddenly shy from her eye contact, "Probably. Maybe we should leave him a note."

They faced each other, her back towards the door and his towards the shelves of messy ingredients. There was just enough room between them for her to fold her arms against her chest, her smile making James's lungs feel extra airy, "Or we can charm the Wolfsbane to fall off every time he tries to put it away."

James laughed, shaking his head as he looked down at her. Their faces were only inches apart, and his heart was beating so hard he was worried she could feel it.

"You know, for such a stickler for rules, you're quite creative with pranks."

She smirked, "I've learned that you can get away with a lot more if you aren't so obnoxious about it."

James let out a fake, dramatised gasp, "You?! A Prefect breaking rules?"

She just shrugged, a smirk still painted on her face. James took a second to look at her, feeling fortunate that not only was he was in the potions closet with her, but she had chosen to carry a conversation with him. This friendly banter was still a little rare, even though they had been getting a little closer lately. Since the incident at the end of fifth year, roughly nine months ago, James decided to get his act together. Mainly for the sake of Lily, but also the threat of war was becoming more than just rumours, and he knew that a war was no place for an immature bully like himself. He was not a person that he- or really anyone- was proud of, and he wasn't okay with that.

James was about to say something when her eyes lit up at something behind his head.

"There it is!" She said and reached her arm out to grab something just next to his ear.

Under normal circumstances, James would've been disappointed that she found it because it probably meant that his time in a closet with her, the girl he's wanted to shag since he had first laid eyes on her, was now over.

However, when Lily reached forward to grab whatever they were looking for (James had since forgotten. Other things had occupied his mind the past couple of minutes), she had subconsciously pressed her body up against his. In a panic, James put his hands on her waist. They both looked at each other with panicked eyes when they realised what was going on, faces close enough that James felt her heavy exhale as she attempted to catch her breath. Her eyes darted to his lips as he was suddenly aware of how naked they felt without hers on them. He instinctively bit them.

James cleared his throat and politely turned his head away from her, trying to reduce the awkwardness.

"Er-Um-Sorry," He said, taking his hands off her waist and shoving his hands into his pockets. Lily's hand was still grasping the beans behind him, and she was staring at him, seemingly debating something. Feeling shy and awkward as she studied his face, James was staring at her left earlobe, noticing the freckle resting next to her small pearl earring.

"Don't worry about it," She mindlessly whispered, still looking intently at him. She seemed to be deep in thought and was not thinking about the words she was saying.

James was just surprised she wasn't showing any signs of being uncomfortable. He would've guessed that she would be yelling at him by now.

"So-uh- I guess we should get-" James cleared his throat as he reached for the door handle behind her. He was nervous under Lily's stare and was having a hard time keeping composure. He wasn't sure what she was thinking, and that honestly bothered him more than if she was yelling at him. At least he knew how she felt then, but he was entirely in the dark right now, "We should get going. The potion's probably been simmering for too long."

Lily blinked and shook her head as if leaving a deep trance. Suddenly embarrassed and blushing, she nodded her head and cleared her throat.

"Right," She said as James tried the door handle.

It didn't move.

He tried it again.

Nothing.

"Well, shit," James said, trying to jiggle the door handle again with both hands despite knowing it wouldn't work. She probably thought he did this on purpose (Which wouldn't be a terribly bad idea if James wasn't so afraid of her), "It's locked."

Lily's eyes widened in a panic, and she promptly turned around, trying the door handle for herself. When it inevitably didn't work, she turned back around and sighed as she leaned against the door, looking up. She groaned and brushed the hair out of her face.

"I forgot that Slughorn keeps it locked," She said, still huffing, "Normally, it doesn't matter because he just keeps it open, but..."

James felt his pockets for his wand and remembered he left it on the desk, "You haven't got your wand, do you?"

Lily looked down as she felt her own pockets, looking back up as she shook her head.

It was then, at the sight of a dishevelled Lily Evans, that James realised that he was locked in a closet with her, and he had a hard time remembering why this was such a bad thing. He tried to shove out the thoughts that entered at the way she looked dishevelled and breathing heavily. The things he would do to be the one making her look like that...

"Sorry, Evans. I feel partially responsible for this predicament," He shook his head, trying to regain self-control. What was he thinking? This was Lily Evans he was thinking about. The girl who never failed to let him know just how much she wanted to strangle him at any given moment.

She said nothing, instead resumed studying his face. He sheepishly messed up his hair, unsure what to do with his body under her gaze.

"Oh, Christ, James," She said in annoyance, biting her lip softly.

"What did I do? I didn't know about the lock!" James said defensively, finding it odd that she was just now getting mad at him.

She rolled her eyes and just looked at him.

"Fuck it," She said, and before James could form a confused expression, her hands were pulling his neck forward, and her lips were being slammed against his.

"What the fuck?" James said, shock widening his eyes as he pulled away slightly. He clearly was baffled beyond logical thinking and reason because Lily would be shoved up against the door if he were thinking clearly. There was no way that Lily Evans, the same Lily Evans that swore she wouldn't ever go out with him not even nine months ago, had just kissed him. Passionately, at that.

"Are you complaining?" She asked, a soft smirk resting on the lips that James was just kissing.

"What-No? Of course not, I just-"

"Then shut up," She whispered, feeling her way from his neck to his tie, which she pulled him forward with so their faces were close again, "And give me a good snog."

"Yes, ma'am," James smirked and tilted his head, pushing her against the door and kissing her firmly without a second thought.

[justallofmyfandoms]

Revenge is best served Small

Reader x Fred Weasley

Reader x George Weasley

NO TWINCEST!!

SMUT! SMUT! SMUT!

(Just to make this less awkward on all of us, yes I am clearly going through some stuff, and yes everyone enjoys what happens to them in this, even if it's reluctantly. Nothing unconsensual. 6,486 words)

[There’s a comment on this post that perfectly summarises it: “i have no idea what just happened to me all i know is that i will never be the same after reading this” so... read at your own risk my dudes, I am so sorry]

You slam a fist into the common room desk, glaring down at your potions homework with enough anger to perform the killing curse on it. Or maybe crucio would be better, just so the homework can suffer all the same pains it's inflicting on you.

A chair at the table scraps against the floor with someone plonking themselves on it. You look up to see Fred Weasley, leaning over the desk to stare down at your paper, "Having trouble with your potions essay?" He asks, evidently just to piss you off because it's pretty obvious you were.

"Bugger off, Weasley. We can't all pay zero attention during class and still get perfect grades" you focus back on your work, but not fast enough to miss Fred's shit eating grin.

"Still mad I got a better grade on our end of semester test?"

"No!" You snap back, perhaps a little too quickly. It made the ginger chuckle. You and the twins had been good friends since first year, but it infuriated you to no end every time they got a good grade, because you just knew it was all talent and no effort.

The twin crossed his arms and leant them on the table, scooting closer to you, "Not that I don't love the look of anger on your face, but why does it annoy you so much? You've been going on about this for six years"

"It doesn't matter, I just wanna get this stupid essay over with!" you complain, throwing your quill on the desk, "Where's your brother, anyway? He said he would help me."

Fred pats your head and sighs, "Ditched by your own boyfriend? There's tragic..." You knew he was just being a prick, Fred always did enjoyed teasing you, but you hadn't seen George all day. It was beginning to worry you. Besides, you two had made it a tradition to do your potions homework together ever since third year.

"He actually sent me here to apologise. He's at tonight's party up in Ravenclaw tower. The ol' sod's drunk a bit too much to help out I'm afraid"

You sit up and frown, the anger being pushed to the back of your mind out of newfound sadness, "Oh... he could have at least told me he was going to the party..."

Fred nods sympathetically, but eventually grins and scoots closer, "In the meantime, how about a deal?" You'll be getting whiplash from all these emotions. First anger, then hurt, and now Fred was making you highly suspicious. He has that expression he gets when dreaming up a crazy plan.

"If you help me with a little scheme I've concocted, I'll help you finish your essay" he continues since the only reaction you initially gave was a squint.

"What kind of scheme?"

He drums the table, bitting back a smile that might warn you off, "I've come up with a new product idea, but in order to make it, I need a very rare ingredient that can only be found in one place"

You sigh, resting your cheek against your raised fist, "Snape's supply closet..."

He points at you like in charades, "Exactly!"

"How do I know you'll actually help me? Making a deal with you is a bit like making a deal with the devil"

"We'll get the essay done tonight!" He declares, spinning the paper to face him, and picking up a nearby quill, "Then tomorrow, you'll help me get the potion"

After a fair amount of consideration, you nod, "Alright, deal!"

"Remind me again what the plan is?" You and Fred were stood in the women's bathroom on the first floor, a bathroom you generally tried to avoid as it was occupied by a particularly annoying ghost called Moaning Myrtle. She didn't seem to be revealing herself though, which you assumed had something to do with Fred teasing her about her nickname and the... other connotations "moaning" has.

Fred took a small vial from his trouser pocket. The contents were green and bubbling, "First, I'll drink this shrinking potion, then you'll take me in your robe pocket all the way to Snape's classroom and put me on the third shelf up next to his supply closet. I'll sneak in through the hole my brother and I drilled there years ago, grab the bottle and get out!"

"You mean you and George have done this before?" you asked, watching as he set the bottle down on the edge of the sink, taking off his robe to hang it over the cubicle wall

He turned back to watch him roll the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, "Yeah, every now and then if we need tough to find ingredients"

"And what exactly do I do?"

"Well, while I'm getting the bottle, you keep an ear out for Snape, then when I get out, you grab me and the bottle, put me in your robes and bring us back here so I can have my regrowth potion" he pulls another vial out of his pocket which is red and shiny.

"Sound good" you say, while he plonks the potion back into his pocket, and pops off the cork on the shrinking one.

"Bottoms up" he says, and downs the contents. The second he does, Fred begins to shrink! His clothes, thankfully, shrink down in size with him, until finally, he was no bigger than your pinky.

"Wow!" You exclaim, squatting down, "This is super dangerous. I could step on you."

"Please don't..." Fred mutters, his pitch the exact same despite his small size, just a bit quieter due to the distance and size of his mouth and all that. Damn, TV and movies have lied to you. A look of mild horror suddenly adorns Fred's face as he pulls something out from his trouser pocket. It's so small, you had trouble realising it was his regrowth potion, "Oh bugger! I forgot about that..."

You were tempted to lie down on your stomach and be as close as you could to eye level, but you doubted that would be very sanitary on the bathroom floor, "What's wrong?"

"I just realised I let the potion shrink with me! Now it won't work! It'll only grow me back to the size of a foot, if we're lucky"

"Speaking from experience?"

"Unfortunately." he shivers, "But it's okay, we'll just have to stop off at my room afterwards to get some more. I always make extra if I can afford to"

"Well that's good. Ready to go?"

"Absolutely" he held up his arms and you scooped him up like you would a wand. You got to your feet and were about to place him in your pocket when you noticed you still had your potions essay folded up inside. Fred had helped you finish it last night, the legend. Took you until 4 am to finish writing it.

You put him in your breast pocket instead, for fear that your robes might fly around too much and he might fall out, or that someone might bump into you and squash him. The breast pocket was at least hidden and safe. Besides, there were still two layers separating him from your actual boobs.

You opened the door and peaked your head through, checking to see if anybody was there. Nobody. Brilliant. Hurrying down the cobbled hallway, you B lined to the stairs leading down to the dungeons, and hurried to the classroom door. You and Fred had a free period right now, so that would explain why it seemed you and he were the only ones not in class. Despite how thankful you were for Fred's help, you wouldn't have skipped lessons to do this, it's risky enough as it is. Fast walking now, you peeped your head into Snape's office, where beyond it lay the door to his private stash.

"He better not come, Fred, or I'll squash you"

"Don't worry, he's in his lesson! Only got one potions teacher"

You thought this over and realised that yeah, there is only one... why the fuck do they only have one teacher for each subject? Do they get breaks? That's unlikely seeing as they have to teach all four houses in all seven years over the span of only five days a week. That's mental that is. Regardless, you would have the time to ponder this later, for now you had a potion to steal. You crept into Snape's office and shut the door, pulling out your wand and enchanting "Colloportus" to lock it behind you.

Fred really knew what he was talking about, because there were indeed shelves next to the closet door. The third one up was even covered with books, and when you grabbed Fred out from your pocket and plonked him on the shelf, he pointed to the dusty copy of 'The Moral Implications of Love Potions' and you took it out to reveal a hole behind it big enough for tiny Fred, “This looks like an interesting read..." you mutter, flipping over to read the blurb. There was a mini scoff, and by mini you mean it was produced by a mini person.

"Right, well, you have fun reading that, I'll search for the potion. Be back in a second" and he was off, disappearing through the hole. You sigh, fidgeting with anxiety at possibly getting caught. Doesn't make sense though, Snape is in class, he has no reason to come in here. When do lessons end anyway? You glance around for a clock but don't find any. Serves you right for not wearing a watch... would a watch even work at Hogwarts?

You flipped open the book and began reading a random page: Dr Eglantine proposed the following moral dilemma: if two people love each other but are too afraid to admit to one another, is it wrong for one of them to drug the other with love potion? Wizarding philosophers are torn on this issue, and when intercourse is involved, the grey area becomes even larger—

There was a loud bang from outside, which made your heart drop. You scurry over to the door, pressing your ear against the cool wood, holding your breathe in hopes of hearing better. The sound of students filled your ears, but not just a few students having a free period, but a whole herd of them. That could only mean one thing: class had ended... Oh fuck!

"Fred!" you cry out in the quietest panic you can muster, scurrying over to the hole, "Snape is coming."

"Almost... there!" Fred called between grunts, emerging with the bottle. You snatched it up, preparing to despose of it into your pocket when Fred raised a valid argument, "Don't put it in there! Snape will check your pockets when he finds you here!" He began downing his second potion, growing only to the size of a regular sized hand, "Damn"

"Oh, right" you scan your body for another hiding place, then the thought came to you. You shove the vial up your shirt and into your bra.

"Great, now me!" Fred exclaims, raising his arms up.

"I can't put you in my bra! You're too big, he'll see you!" You scoop him, holding his torso like a toothbrush.

He stares up at you in stunned confusion, "Really? That was what was wrong with that plan?"

You realised you ought to have said 'no you pervert I'm not letting you touch my boobs' but now wasn't the time to curse yourself for it. Your heart was hammering with fear, inspecting your body for somewhere to stash him. The doorknob rattled, and the sickeningly familiar tone of Snape's voice cursed that it was locked. Your time was up, there was only one thing for it! You pulled away the elastic of your skirt and stuck him down there,

“WOAH—!" He yelped, hair practically standing on end.

"Just hold onto the elastic along the outside and we should be fine!" You put him onto your outer right thigh, knowing full well that a pair of shorts and a pair of underwear and a whole thigh were separate him from... that.

"Alohamora!" the door swung open just as you were putting the book back, and there stood Snape, in all his emo glory. He froze, clearly having not expected to find anyone inside. Once the shock had left his system, he straightened up and glared at you, “What exactly do you think you are doing?" his nasally voice grilled, doing nothing good for your nerves, which were in absolute tatters at the moment.

"I was looking for you, w-when someone locked me in the class" you scramble, the lie just about the worst you could come up with. You had to remind yourself that Fred was on the outside of your thigh. Considering he was in your skirts at all, that was the most innocent position he could be in. All he had to do was hold on to the elastic of your shorts and you should be fine!

"Why?" he trudged further into the classroom.

"Why was I looking for you or why did someone lock me in the class—?"

"Why were you looking for me?" His booming voice told you that you were on thin ice.

"Ah yes, well, I... I was having trouble with the essay assigned for tomorrow, and thought maybe you could help me"

Snape closed the door and came to lean on his large desk, "Do you really expect me to believe that one of my students, who has never once asked a question in six years, is now asking a question?"

You frown, so suddenly insulted that you almost forgot about Fred on your leg, "Professor Snape, I ask questions all the time"

"Oh, how unmemorable you are then" he sneers, making you fume, "Regardless, I'm going to need to search your pockets"

You sighed, "Yes, sir"

He stalked over to you, holding out a hand for your robes. You pushed the sleeves off each shoulder, removing it, and dumped it into his palm. As he began to examine it, you felt Fred's shoes scrapping against your skin. It's as though he's trying desperately to find a foothold, no doubt still exhausted from having to push the bottle. If he falls, not only will you be caught, but Fred could get seriously injured!

Again, you knew what you had to do but hesitated to do it. As subtly as you could, you extended the elastic of your skirt, took Fred out, then plonked him into your shorts. His entire body went flush against yours, no doubt the skin tight shorts were crushing him. As long as there was no more risk of him falling... Hopefully it wasn't suffocating him though.

"If it's too tight, move" you hissed, keeping your eyes trained on Snape, who unfortunately heard you.

"What did you say?"

"I said—" you took a sharp breath, feeling Fred's back sink further into the fat of your thigh as he pushed away the area of fabric suffocating him, "If it's too tight, move" you repeated loudly for the two men in the room. "The pockets get a bit stuck sometimes so you have to jostle it around a bit" you added to give fake context to an instruction that wasn't even meant for Snape.

The shadowy teacher was evidently confused, but decided to ignore your outburst. Meanwhile, you could feel Fred inching along the front of your thighs, moving closer to your core. This was fine, as you didn't exactly want him to asphyxiate in your shorts, that would be a tragic way to go. You did hope, however, that he wouldn't overshoot his target, and fall into the abyss between the crotch and pant leg. Just as you had thought it, you felt the man slip. You gasped, pressing your legs a little closer together, enough for him to reach out and grab the first piece of fabric he could get his hands on. Unfortunately for the both of you, that piece of fabric were your panties. You wondered whether he knew what he was doing, when he began to scramble onto it, lying down flat onto the crotch like a hammock. Your question was quickly answered by the sensation of his arms sticking into your folds, and the subsequent wriggling of regret.

Sucking in a deep breath, you had to grip the nearby desk with all your might to stop a loud moan escaping your lips. Regardless of how bizarre and awful this situation was, having anything rub against your clit was an arousal waiting to happen. Poor guy must have though those were your shorts he grabbed before... You were just about to dig in and help, when Snape extended your robes back to you. You'd have to walk, with mini Fred mushed into you vagina, all the way to grab it. Praying he might forgive you one day, you stepped forward, effectively compromising Fred's escape, trapping him between your knickers and crack. Talk about getting stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"Very well, I will take a look at your homework" and he rounded the desk, unfurling the essay he had taken from your pocket and sitting down in preparation to help. You swallow, approaching the table as he skimmed through it. He paused for a moment to look up, "Well, sit down" he ordered.

Staring down at the chair, you gulped. Every time you sit down during class, the skin tight shorts you wear, under your Hogwarts skirt, ride up into your ass. Having that happen right now is about as undesirable as they come, "Um, I'd rather not, if that's alright with you"

He blinked and looked back down at your work, "Well anyway, the beginning of your essay seems promising." You smiled, that was the part you wrote by yourself. Just wait until he gets to the part Fred helped you with. There were things he told you on the topic that you swore you had never heard before, you'll look like such an expert! Speaking of, the unfortunate blighter had given up on his attempts to leave, probably worried that his efforts might be thwarted again by your moving thighs. He was now using his hands and knees to keep himself pushed away from you. If you thought about it hard enough, you could convince yourself Fred was just a bumpy pad with a tuft of hair on the end... that moved.

Alright now body, I know you're an animal that listens to its instincts more than its brain, but please don't respond the same way you usually do when something— anything is pressing against you. You thought to yourself. We are not creating any new weird kinks today, thank you very much. Besides, the poor guy is going through enough as it is.

"You think Felix Felicis was created by Felix Williams... and that it contains balm, angel's trumpet, bitter root, and a single strawberry cooked under a full moon" he looked up from your work, pinning you with an expression of cold unamusement.

He must be testing you. Fred's a prankster but he isn't a dick... most of the time. He wouldn't. He couldn't! "Yes...?"

"Your Wolfsbane... does it contain any other nonsense ingredients I should know about?"

You froze, as did the guy in your pants. He must have heard, and Merlin have mercy he was going to pay for what he'd done!

This was just like that incident in fourth year all over again! You were in the showers after a quidditch match and Fred snuck in and stole your clothes and towel. When you realised you would had to run butt fucking naked all the way to your room, you were absolutely furious. Fred was lounging in the common room, along with twenty or so other people, and they all watched as you went gunning for the stairs. George felt awful, having not known his brothers prank, and offered to obliviate anyone who talked about it. It was then you realised Fred could be kind of a dick, and George was the man for you.

Fascinated by just how much Fredrick Weasley had fucked you over yet again, you decided to plop down on the chair opposite Snape. The moment you did, the skin tight shorts became skin tight. Fred's entire body went flush against yours, sending a delicious zap up your spine that attempted to summon a moan you coughed back, “Sorry, I wasn't trying to insult you with my work... I got a friend to help and it seems he was just taking the piss" Fred was moving, his chest bumping and smoothing over your clit. You had to actively try not to squeeze your thighs around him to increase the pressure.

George had bought you a dildo once as a "joke" (he just wanted to watch you wank yourself off, the kinky bugger) and you had run it between your folds, but that pailed in comparison to this. This was far better. Fred is made up of so many intricate parts, each of them squirming against you. His legs, for example, were kneading the source of your arousal. His shoes were in there now, using it as a foothold to try and push his way out. It was heavenly.

"Now I might remember you, as the girl with a poor judge of character" Snape interjected, pulling you out of your sexual haze. If the context were different, you might have gotten mad, but you couldn't bring yourself to at the moment. Not while you were getting oh so sweet revenge on a certain someone, "Well, for starters, dragon bone isn't an ingredient in any of these, so we might as well cross that off the list—" he took his red ink and began marking your paper. His voice became a distant drone in the background as you disassociated once against, focusing on how Fred had began shimmying his way to freedom. If only you could quicken his pace. If only you could rock your hips and fuck yourself against him. You weren't available to move, but he certainly was.

Leaving the one hand there on the desk, to rest your chin against, the other snuck under the table and under the hem of your skirt and shorts. Your fingers hovered above him, a little unsure what to do, until the index finger took initiative and pressed down onto his back through the pants. If he wasn't mushed against you before, he sure as hell was now. His hands slap your folds, but you could feel his head angled up for air. He should be fine.

You experiment by pushing him up. There his chin is triggering the most sensitive nerves of your clit! You roll your hips to savour it, using your thumb to squash his head down and create a more prominent friction. The round nature of his face and bumps making up his features created the most delicious rub. You had to loop your feet behind the desk's legs in order to stop your thighs from crushing him. When he slaps you for air, you reluctantly moved your thumb and pushed his body down. Now his feet were teasing your entrance with the sensation of being filled. You sat down more firmly onto your chair to shove him deeper inside of you. You pushed him up again, then down, up, down, repeating the gesture while his limbs squirmed, awakening new flesh with every swipe. Your middle finger joined the index's perch on his back to pick up the pace. You bit your lip and sucked a deep breath through your nose to push down all the noises that were bubbling to the surface. The only thing that could have moulded you any better than Fred would have been a literal mould. Even then, it wouldn't have been nearly so fun to hump.

You were now rolling him against you in deep tight circles. Your hips were swaying in time, and as much as you wanted to use your whole hand to rub him madly against you, you thought Snape might notice your entire arm thrusting under the table. Unconsciously, your thighs tighten around him, sucking him almost up into you. You lull your head back and arch into him, sighing in bliss. When Snape looked up, you snapped your head back down and froze, biting your fist in order to stop yourself whining in disapproval.

"Does that make sense?"

"Yes sir" what on earth were you agreeing to? You hadn't the foggiest.

"Then don't waste my time with useless garbage like this again. If you haven't produced a coherent, serious essay by tomorrow, I'll be deducting twenty points from your house. Now go!" He pointed to the door.

You had half a mind to snap back, but thought: to hell with him! You had things that needed your immediate attention, and no hooked nose, greasy hair, middle aged virgin was going to ruin that for you! “Very well, thank you sir" you stood up, and to your eternal disappointment, it loosened the strain of your clothes to unstick Fred from your cunt.

Exiting the class, you were devastated to find the hallway packed with students ready for their next potions lesson. The women's bathroom was just around the corner and up the stairs. All you had to do was get to it. You sped walked around the students, opting to push some aside rather than do any fancy footwork and likely squash the man inside of you. From the lack of movement, you guessed he had probably made peace with the situation. Luckily for you though, the movement of your walking kept banging him against you, and you had to stop yourself from dropping to the floor right then and there to grind him furiously against you.

When finally you had made it to the bathroom, casting "Colloportus" on the door for some privacy, you froze at the sight of someone stood inside with their back to you. You recognised those ginger locks straight away.

"George?" you called. He let go of the robe he was examining over the cubicle door and beamed, bounding up to you with all the excitement of a puppy.

"Darling! I've been looking for you everywhere, where have you been?"

What to say, what to say. You doubted rubbing your shrunk brother against my vagina in revenge would be largely acceptable, so you opted to white lie, "Oh, I needed Snape to help me with my potions essay"

George frowned, "Why'd you do that? I could have helped you. Can't imagine ol' hook nose was as fun as me"

"Well maybe if you weren't at that party last night—"

"What party?"

Judging by Fred's immediate scramble to break free, you imagined George was about to tell you something that would spell out very bad news for his twin. To stop his escape, you move a hand behind your back to fist your underwear and hoist it up, making it impossible to give way, "Fred told me you were at the Ravenclaw party last night..."

George's chocolate brown eyes widen in horror, immediately replaced by a scowl as he looked up to curse the air. Little did he know he actually should have been glancing down if he wanted to curse his brother. His squirming against you was making this entire thing leagues better, "What? Oh that prick! I was sick last night with a cold and sent him to apologise to you because I didn't want you catching it while Madam Pomfrey's sweets took effect"

Your cunt was fluttering in anticipation for what long and hard revenge you were about to take. Fred was scrambling so wildly, you couldn't wait to get down to business, "That asshat. He said you were drunk and convinced me to steal some stupid potion with him"

George's anger multiplied, "Bloody hell! I told him not to do that"

"What do you mean?" You were genuinely curious, but your body had literally no care in the world. It was hoisting your pants even higher to keep Fred glued there, wriggling your hips as your breathing became laboured.

George didn't seem to notice, "He was planning on making a thing of love potion with it. Told him it was a stupid idea and he was perfectly popular enough to get anyone he wanted without it. He's got hundreds of girls and guys in the past, I can't think of who he thought he needed to trick..." you consider it for a moment. That was a very good question, it's strange for Fred to care so much about someone... but this could be left for another time.

You hook your foot behind George's leg and brought it forward to wedge it in between yours. Without warning you hopped up and felt Fred immediately sink into your flesh. You doubled over, gripping George's shoulders, and moaning to savour the feel of being entirely and completely touched. George had to brace his hands against the door either side of your head to stop himself from falling over. In surprise rapture, he watched as you were already so unravelled. Finally, the surface you needed. Twins were supposedly two halfs of a whole, and never before had that sentiment rung so true. His leg was the missing component that pushed Fred so absolutely into you, no margin of error. All of him was rubbing against you now as you began humping without mercy.

You thrust yourself forwards and backwards, side to side, around in broad circles. Your folds accommodated him so well, stretching to make sure he always stayed between them. At times you were almost sure you could feel them curling around him, to keep him there as a permanent feature. Tempting indeed, he certainly made walking more fun, and imagine the possibilities in History of Magic. He could get you off under the table without anyone having a clue!

Fred was becoming slick with your arousal, lubricating him into slipping and sliding into usually unattainable flesh you never knew yearned for touch. And because of George's pressure under him, his hold on those neglected areas of your cunt was positively sinful. You throw your head back, your hands on George's shoulders, tugging up and down to massage yourself against Fred.

"What is that bump in your pants?" he finally questioned, having snapped out of his shock.

"Just a sex toy" you reply earnestly, making no alterations to your position.

There was a sudden sting on your clit that made you yelp and stop for a moment. Fred must have bit you... and it was incredible. You wondered whether you could get him to do it again, "It's loves being in there while I fuck myself with it. A tool for my pleasure" You were bouncing up and down like a rubber ball, poking him to react. He still wasn't doing anything to participate, but it was fine. You were doing more than enough for the both of you. All he needed to do was be there as you pounded yourself onto him. Then, your continuous lifting and applying onto him made his shoulder lodge so deep inside of you, you let out a howling moan, crushing George's lips to yours in order to muffle the sheer volume of the scream. He pulls your bottom lip into his mouth, urgently swiping his tongue against yours. You moan and put everything you have into the kiss, allowing him to dive in and taste you. George's lips began to wander, bitting, nibbling and sucking his way to your pulse. His hands came up to hastily undo your tie and shirt, pushing them aside to reveal your bare stomach. As he works your skin into his mouth, creating a glorious love bite on the swell of your neck, his palms fan out across your stomach. You take a sharp breath, as he caressed towards your bra, grinning against you when he notices it's the one he got you for Valentine's Day that unhooks at the front. Lucky coincidence, all your other ones were just dirty.

"I leave you for one night and you become a horny mess" George teases, his hands gliding down your sides to grip your hips. He nudged your legs apart, spreading you wider over your toy. Although he didn't take over the pace, he certainly sped you up. God you could have kissed him for knowing exactly how to whind up your pleasure. A shame then that his mouth was currently occupied with other things. You tangle your hands into his hair as he strokes your nipple with his tongue, pulling it into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks to suck it hard. Your head lulled back to angle yourself further into him, whimpering at how close your climax was.

Seemed Fred was just as desperate to get it over with as you were. He was now doing everything in his power to jack you off. He had somehow managed to grasp your clit between his hands, and paired with your thrusting it created a borderline unnatural amount of pleasure. You were screaming with moans. But somehow more importantly than all that, he had his leg plunged inside of you.

That was it. The idea had been toying in your mind this whole time, but now you knew you needed him inside if you. "Wait a second George" you breathed, perching yourself a little higher in order to stick a hand down your panties, pinching Fred so his arms were trapped by his sides, and sliding him, feet first, through your entrance, until nothing showed of him but his head.

Head back, mouth open in an overjoyed groan, something in you snapped. You didn't even have to thrust him in and out. He was twisting, his arms and legs were flailing in the little space available to them. The walls were hugging his every curve, likely trying to suction him to the back. It was the combination of George flicking your nipple with his tongue and Fred massaging your insides that had you finally unravelling. Hot, slick, arousal came dribbling past what little gaps Fred’s body provided, and you went limp in his brother’s arms with one final howl.

George straightened up to hold you close, stroking your hair until you were ready to stand on your own again, “Nifty toy you got there. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite so animalistic” he chuckled.

Wiping the sweat of your brow off on your robes, you tried to make yourself look presentable again, smirking up at your boyfriend as you redid the buttons of your shirt, “Yes, well, nothing beats actual sex with you. Wanna go for a round two in your room?”

He beams, “Course! Want me to wait?”

“Nah, I’ll meet you up there” you gesture him away. Normally you would ask him to stay, but you had something to deal with first.

“Alright, see you in five” all excited, he ran for the door, then turned back just as he had performed the unlocking spell to give you a quick peak on the lips, then off he went.

Rummaging around in your shorts, you sigh as you unclog your hole, the contents stringing against Fred as you lift him to eye level. Merlin he looked awful. His fiery hair was stood on end, gelled up with your cum. His white shirt was practically transparent and clung to his abs as though it have been soaked in water. His eyes were a little bloodshot probably from liquid splashing into them, and his lips were rather swollen, like they would be after making out with someone for too long or too roughly. Just generally, your essence was rolling off of him in big globs. You placed your other hand to your mouth and giggled at his appearance, but he seemed the furthest thing from amused. His arms were crossed over his chest, a highly displeased scowl etched across his face.

“Oh don’t look at me like that!” you say, “If you hadn’t planned the robbery so terribly, or lied to me on twooccasions in the 8 hours proceeding it, getting me to write a whole 4 thousand word essay on things that were complete horseshit, humiliating me on front of Snape and—“

“Alright alright—!” He had softened up a little, averting eye contact, but you didn’t care.

“No! I’m not done!” That got his attention again, “Fred, you have been a dick to me for the past six years! Sure, you’re funny and can be sweet sometimes, but most of the time you don’t know where the line is! You prank me all the time, it’s relentless! And today you bloody pushed me over the edge. I had a perfect means of getting revenge and damn it I took it.”

He shrugs, “Whatever, I guess we’re even now”

You open your mouth to continue arguing but snap it shut when you realised what he had said. That really took much less convincing than you though, probably because you were feeling a smidge guilty for going so far in the heat of anger. It’s not like he orgasmed or anything... well if he did you wouldn’t be able to tell, his trousers were drenched, “Yeah, I guess...”

You waddled to the sink, turning both faucets on for lukewarm water, plonking him in the basin to clean off the sticky residue. You then hobbled into the closest stall to grab a wad of tissue and wipe yourself clean with it. Despite how absolutely caked in the stuff Fred was, you were still drenched. You exit the stall a couple of minutes later to find him completely washed down, "Right, let's get you back to your normal size, but let's put you in my pocket this time..."

"What a shame. I had really learned to call your vag my home" the sarcasm drooled from his lips.

You scooped him up, pinning him with a warning eye, "I'll put you back in there if you're not careful."

"Sorry sorry sorry!" he back peddled, extending his arms like a man about to be hit by an unforgivable curse. You gently lay him in your pocket, and snapped your head up to find Moaning Myrtle staring at you in disbelief.

"Umm..." the ghost muttered, for once in her life (or death) at a loss for words.

"Don't tell anyone what you saw here today, Myrtle" you warned, pointing a long threatening finger at her, "Not like they'd believe you anyway"

She nodded vigorously and dove into the nearest sink.

[jenoismydad]

Netflix and Fuck

pairing: Jeno & Jaemin x Reader 

genre: smut, threesome, fingering, slight voyeurism, male receiving, protected sex, also a bit of dom!jaemin and jeno

summary: Jaemin walks in on you and Jeno hooking up during movie night and doesn’t mind joining you

note: I hit 2k followers while writing this smut so consider it as a gift! thank you guys so much for all the love and support you give me!

requested by @norenminhyuckchenji

part 1 || part 2 

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“Where am I supposed to sit?”, you asked with a pout on your face as you scanned the room for a vacant and comfortable spot to claim. “On my lap of course.”, Jeno announced with a smirk. You narrowed your eyes at him, flipping him off. “In your dreams boy.” Jeno frowned and held his heart in feigned pain. 

You stood behind Jaemin and rocked his shoulder gently. “Jaemin...can I please sit here.”, you asked in the most sincere way you could. Jaemin looked up at you, mouth full of chips, with an unamused expression. “And where exactly do you expect me to sit?” You gave his question some thought. “Next to Mark?”

Jaemin shook his head disapprovingly and continued snacking on his chips. The only spot left was Haechan’s. You knew it would be a total waste asking Haechan to let you take his place, but you really didn’t want to sit on the cold, hard wooden floor in your skirt. “Haechan...”, you started. All it took was a strong glare from the boy and you immediately gave up. There was just no winning with him. You hung your head and slumped away, ready to join Renjun and Mark on the floor. 

“Just sit here.” Jeno grabbed your arm and tugged you towards him. He patted his lap and looked up at you intently. Compared to the floor, Jeno looked pretty warm and inviting. Besides, he was the one who was insisting that you sit on his lap, so he probably didn’t mind. But still, the movie was probably going to be at least 2 hours long and you weren’t exactly the lightest of people. “Come on y/n, it’ll be fine.”, Jeno assured you, having picked up on your mental debate with yourself. “I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable ”, you stated, shifting closer to him. “And I don’t want you to be either.”, Jeno said with a smile. You nodded reluctantly and carefully sat down on his lap. 

Jeno let you settle yourself, one hand laying on the armrest and the other delicately draped over your thigh, almost like it was a seatbelt. You didn’t mind it though, instead sitting back and watching the movie that had just begun.

After what seemed to be and hour, maybe only half, your legs started hurting slightly. Jeno’s thighs were more firm than squishy, so it was kind of hard to stay put in one position without feeling sore. That’s why, not too long after you started moving around, Jeno’s eyes widened drastically. His body tensed up, which made you shift about more than before. It was only until his large hand gave your thigh a harsh squeeze, that you halted your movements. “Don’t move.”, Jeno breathed, slowly relaxing his body. “Oops sorry.”, you whispered, letting all your weight down again and leaning you're back against his chest. Jeno groaned and lurched forward, his head right next to yours. He held both your arms tightly now, letting his knees spread apart just a bit, only to have you sink deeper onto his thighs. “Fuck.”, Jeno cursed into your ear, sending chills down your body. He quickly sat back, wiping his forehead and awkwardly placing his hands on his knees. 

“You good bro?”, Jaemin asked from beside you, offering you some chips. “Yeah.”, Jeno answered weakly, making Jaemin chuckle. “Y/n didn’t give you a boner or something right?”, he asked jokingly. You gasped and slapped his arm, glaring at him playfully. “No she did not.”, Jeno spoke, slightly agitated. You and Jaemin both shrugged but said nothing further, returning to the movie.

You wanted to focus on the film, but something kept poking your butt. It was hard, so you assumed it was Jeno’s belt buckle or jeans button. Subconsciously, your hand flew behind you in order to move whatever it was, but the sound that left Jeno’s mouth as soon as your hand came in contact with his crotch had you realising that you had just fucked up.

Jeno had moaned. Straight out, uncensored, not so quietly, moaned. That too, right into your back, so you were the only one who heard it. Jeno rested his forehead on your back, sucking in deep breaths. He held your waist and pulled you back, placing his lips to your ear. “Five minutes, my room, otherwise don’t come at all.”, he commanded, his assertive voice making your insides tingle. He pushed you off of his lap and stormed off to his room muttering ‘bathroom’ just for the other guys knowledge. You watched him disappear down the hall, gulping nervously. You weren’t that dumb to realise that you had indeed given Jeno a boner. His words replayed in your head and heat rushed straight to your core. You were definitely turned on to say the least and the more you thought of Jeno, the wetter you got. Although, somewhere in the back of your head you knew that you and Jeno were just friends and that it should stay that way, you hadn’t had sex in ages. So maybe that, plus the added bonus that you really curious to know what Jeno had in plan for you, was the reason why you found yourself getting up and walking in the same direction you had seen Jeno go.

You walked down the hall, stopping in front of his bedroom door. You knew this was a bad idea, but you were really turned and all that wetness wasn’t just going to go away. The boys were all still sitting outside, too invested in the movie to notice your absence and you hoped it would stay that way. Knocking on the door timidly, you mentally prepared yourself for whatever was going to happen. Jeno opened the door and smirked at you, clearly pleased that you had decided to join him. He stepped aside to let you enter and quietly shut the door behind you. He then walked up to you and pushed you down on his bed, hovering over you. 

“First of all, fuck you for giving me a boner. I was actually looking forward to watching that movie but now all I can think about is how I’m going to literally fuck you for giving me a boner.”

Jeno’s face was serious, but you couldn’t help but let a small giggle slip. Jeno raised his brow at you and grinned. “Laugh all you want to now. You’re gonna have a hard time trying to be quiet later.”, he spoke, tracing his thumb across your lips. You licked your lips and pulled him down, crashing his lips onto yours. Jeno groaned and placed a hand next your head to keep himself steady. Your hands threaded through the hair at the back of his head, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Jeno let you take control, his other hand running up and down the side of your body.

You raised your leg and brought it to Jeno’s waist, pushing his hips down onto your core. You both moaned, the bulge in Jeno’s pants grown as it came in contact with your clothed core. Jeno ground his hips into yours, biting down on your lip when you moaned breathily. He left small open mouthed kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin, while his hand moved down to hold your thigh. You whimpered when slid his fingers over your pussy, smirking against your neck as he felt how wet you were. “Fuck our friends are sitting outside and you’re in here being such a whore. You’re definitely not as innocent as you pretend to be.”, Jeno said, rubbing small circles into your clit. “You’re one to talk.”, you mumbled, gasping when he pushed your panties to the side. “I can’t believe it took you two seconds to pop a boner.”

Jeno scowled at you and shoved his fingers into your pussy. You threw your head back and moaned loudly. “Well if you hadn’t been giving me a lap dance, this wouldn’t be happening right now.”, he said, fingering you with a sharp pace. You spread your thighs apart, allowing Jeno’s fingers to pump further into you. He covered your mouth with his other hand, completely engulfing your moans. His long slender fingers curled up to hit your g-spot perfectly, making you arch your back off the bed. You felt a familiar knot in your stomach but you didn’t want to cum just yet and neither did Jeno. He removed his fingers from your wet hole and fumbled with his belt.

Once it was off, he kicked his pants off and pointed to the table next to your head. “Get a condom.”, he instructed, peeling his now tight boxers off of his body. You opened the drawer and took a packet from the box of condoms. You sat up just in time to see his cock spring free, slapping up against his abdomen. Jeno took his shirt off and pumped his cock, telling your to come closer. You sat up on your knees and shifted towards him, opening your mouth involuntarily to take his cock. Jeno slapped hit against your tongue before pushing your head down on him. He hummed and let you set your own pace, only holding your hair out of the way. You didn’t suck him off for too long, only enough to get him fully hard. You let his cock go with a pop and scooted further up the bed. Jeno pushed your leg up and dragged his cock along your slit, coating it in your juices. “Fuck me already Jeno.”, you whined, walls clenching around nothing. Jeno chuckled at your neediness and positioned himself before slowly pushing into you. Your mouth fell open as Jeno’s cock stretched you out. He hadn’t even gone in all the way, but your eyes were already fluttering shut. Eyes barely open, you let your head fall to the side as Jeno completely bottomed out. Just as he started grinding his hips slowly into yours, something caught your eye.

Your eyes widened in panic when you realised that it wasn’t something, but a someone. And that someone’s eyes were boring right into yours. Jeno noticed your inattentiveness and bucked his hips into yours, earning a sensual moan from you. Your eyes flickered to his briefly before returning back to the one’s  you had previously been looking at. You had tensed up a bit and you wanted to tell Jeno to stop because you two weren’t alone, but with the way that Jaemin was staring at you, all you could do was moan louder. 

You hadn’t missed his hand which he was using to not so subtly palm himself, and you didn’t want to deny him of any pleasure, which was surprising to you. Although the bathroom light was still turned off, you could tell that Jaemin’s eyes were full of lust. He gripped the doorframe, biting down on his lip harshly.

And that’s when the lights turned on. Jeno’s head whipped behind to see his best friend, getting off to him fucking his other friend. “What the heck are you doing over there?”, Jeno asked the other boy, surprisingly calm with the situation. “I needed to piss but then I walked in on this. Hehe, that rhymed.”

Jeno shook his head and rolled his eyes. He was still buried deep inside you and he was still hard. It only made you wonder how many times he had been in this situation before. Jaemin flicked the bathroom light off and walked towards you two as if y’all were just playing a board game. He sat at the edge of the bed, staring you up and down. “Care if I join?”, he asked casually. He looked between you and Jeno. Jeno shrugged. “Only if she’s okay with it.”, he said, pulling out and sitting back. Now all the eyes were on you. 

“Of course she’s okay with it.”, Jaemin said, “She was practically putting on a show for me when I was standing back there.” You didn’t know what to say. Yeah, your were a bit skeptical at first, but with the way Jaemin had been eye fucking you, you could only wonder what it would feel like if he actually fucked you. At this point, the fact that these two men were your friends had been pushed back into the deep depths of your mind, and all you could think of was how good they could make you feel. That’s why, you said nothing, but nodded timidly, giving the two boys your affirmation.

Jaemin beamed excitedly and began ridding himself of his clothes. Once he was done with that, he took your hand in his and moved you to the edge of the bed. Gesturing for you to stand up on your knees, Jaemin trailed his finger down your still clothed body. He hooked his finger under your shirt and slid it off with one swift movement, leaving you in your bra. You felt another pair of hands, Jeno’s, unclip the garment and slide it off, tossing it somewhere in the room. He pressed small kisses on your shoulder, his hands holding your waist. 

Jaemin turned your chin towards him, pulling your forward to join his lips to yours. His lips were soft and the kiss was delicate, different from how aggressively Jeno had kissed you before. Jeno’s lips were still on your shoulder, he was now sucking small marks into your skin. Jaemin pulled away and cupped your breast. Your lips parted as he softly pinched your nipple, letting out a silent moan. You tilted your head to the side when Jeno’s lips tugged at your neck. “Do you like that?”, Jaemin asked you, his voice was sweet, but there was a slight adjuring tone to it. You hummed in response and Jaemin wasn’t pleased by it. “Say it out loud.”, he ordered assertively. “Yes.”, you said, moaning when Jeno started rubbing your other nipple. “Good girl.”, Jeno spoke into your ear. 

“Get on all fours.”, Jaemin instructed. You did as he said and felt Jeno push your skirt up, you ass now on display for them both. “Now be an angel and take us both well, okay?”, Jaemin said, bringing your mouth closer to his cock. “Okay.”, you breathed, wrapping your lips around Jaemin’s dick while Jeno lined himself at your entrance. 

It was as if the two boys had done a mental countdown of some sort as they both pushed into you, one in your mouth and the other in your pussy. You moaned at the stretch Jeno’s length gave you, but it was muffled by Jaemin’s dick. 

It was a perfect harmony. When Jeno would pull out of you, Jaemin would thrust his dick in your mouth, never leaving you to feel empty. It only made you wonder how frequently they had done this before. The room had become unbearably hot, but with the amount of pleasure soaring through you, you could care less. Jaemin was fucking your mouth so harshly that you couldn’t feel your jaw anymore. He skilfully managed to fit all of his length in your mouth without making you gag. Jeno, on the other hand, was ruthlessly pounding into your pussy, the sound of your skin slapping echoing throughout the room. 

Jaemin was the first to come undone. He cursed and pushed your head down on him so far that your nose was touching his abdomen. Your muffled moans sending vibrations through his body had his cock twitching in your mouth and hot cum spurting down your throat. You grimaced at the bitter taste but swallowed it like a champ. When he finally pulled out you realised how sore your throat had gotten. “Such a good girl.”, Jaemin cooed, “You took me so well baby.” 

Now that Jaemin was out of your mouth, you could moan freely. Your moans tore through your throat, the tightness in your stomach increasing with every strong thrust from Jeno. Jeno pulled your hair making you stand on your knees. You pressed your back to his chest, resting your head on his shoulder, strings of curses pouring through your mouth as he brought you closer and closer to your orgasm. “You’ve got such a dirty mouth baby. Who’s ruining you like this?”, Jaemin asked, pressing his thumb down on your clit. “Jeno is.”, you mumbled incoherently, so lost in your own bliss that you were starting to see stars. “That’s right. Who’s fucking you dumb?”, he asked once again, attaching his lips too your nipple as he began drawing small circles into your clit. “Jeno is!”, you shouted, eyes reeling to the back of your head, with the extra stimulation. 

You gripped Jaemin hair harshly, making him clamp his mouth on you nipple. He squeezed your other breast and rubbed your clit intensely. Your walls clenched around Jeno’s cock, your orgasm crashing down on you like a wave. You practically screamed as if the rest of your friends were not still sitting outside in the living room. oblivious to how the two boys were playing with you. You heard Jaemin chuckle underneath you, he looked up at you, caressing your stomach comfortingly, as you came down from your high. Jeno was still pounding into you, chasing his high desperately. You clenched your walls around him again and that seemed to do the trick. Pulling your hips down on him, he emptied himself into the condom, biting down on your neck as he did so. He rode out his high a bit before falling back on the bed and leaning against the headboard. You yelped as you fell with him, ending up on his lap. Jeno laughed and rested his head on your shoulder, regaining his breath. “Looks like we’re back to square one.” All of your laughed tiredly, wafting in post orgasm feels. 

“How was it?”, Jaemin asked, cupping your cheek. “Really fucking good.”, you huffed and leaned into Jeno’s chest, suddenly feeling really lethargic. Jaemin laid down across the bed, his legs dangling off the bed, and pulled Jeno’s blanket over himself. 

All three of your heads turned to the door when it shot open with no warning. Renjun and Haechan stood in the doorway, Mark joining them shortly after. They both stared at the three of you, eyes narrowed and arms folded. “I can’t believe y'all had a fuck fest without inviting us!”

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[anyoneseenadam]

Hi! Could you do an azriel x reader where they have a huge argument but it ends with fluff? Thank you!

pairing: azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: mentions of self harm and suicidal thoughts, depression, anxiety, shouting, swearing and a butt ton of angst but with some fluff at end

a/n: this is kinda self indulgent because i’m vvv depressed rn and for some reason angst rlly makes me feel better so i hope u enjoy!! pls comment it rlly means the world <3

—————————————————————————-

You knew Azriel was stressed. His hands clenched, lips red from excessive chewing, his gaze stormy and sharp words hurting anyone that pried to deep. You knew you should leave him alone and let him finish whatever he needed to do, but it had been a week and while you had noticed he was stressed, he seemed oblivious to your pain.

You had woken up a week ago with a heavy head, your entire body weighing you down, making everything seem too loud and too bright. The first day you had laid in bed all day, barely eating and when Azriel found you hours later he simply presumed you had just taken an early night.

But you couldn’t sleep.

A few days later you were practically withering away. You had barely eaten in days; you couldn’t sleep, and you missed your mate horribly. Every part of you ached as you dragged yourself into the shower, desperate to scrub away the layer of dirt you could feel on your skin. You stood under the scalding water, hands moving on their own accord to wash your skin, your head moving a million miles an hour as your eyes itched from the hot tears that were mixing with the even hotter water.

You leaned a hand against the counter when you got out, your legs shaky and weak from the lack of food you had consumed, you considered just getting back into bed, but you knew you needed help. You had gotten like this before and it always ended in some form of unhealthy coping mechanism, but you had promised Azriel you wouldn’t do that again so you instead you pulled your clothes on again, not bothering to dry your hair and dragged your feet to the kitchen.

When you didn’t find him there you frowned but went about making yourself some toast to quell the nausea brewing in your stomach. With your food you padded through your house but couldn’t find him anywhere, feeling more hot tears spill as you realised he was out.

You knew his job was hard, but your heart ached as you realised he truly hadn’t noticed the change. You sent a pulse down the bond as you sank to the floor in tears, your head heavy and heart numb. You didn’t get any reply, so you tried sending another one, to no avail, almost as if he were waving away your cries for help.

You cried for about fifteen minutes, before standing and going back through to your room, sitting on your bed, and staring at a blemish in the floor as you fiddled with the toy you had kept since you were young. You felt guilty for the thoughts running through your head, never wanting to make Azriel alone but feeling so lost in your own head that all you wanted to do was die, to feel the lightness you vaguely remembered enjoying as a child. You were standing to move to your bathroom, itching for your razor when you heard the front door open, relief flooding through you that he was finally home.

You walked out the room, fiddling with the sleeves of your oversized hoodie as you went to meet him. He was standing in the kitchen, shoulders tight and your heart panged at the sight of him, stressed and tired. You considered turning and leaving him but remembered that he told you to always come to him when your head was being cruel, so you shuffled forward, wrapping your arms around his back, and pressing your face between his shoulder blades, breathing easier as you inhaled him, your heart feeling some form of peace at last.

But he shrugged you off, moving away from you and you felt white hot dread fill you.

“Not right now (y/n), I’m busy.” His voice was cold as he made himself a cup of coffee, not offering you one as he usually would.

“I- I know I just haven’t seen you in a while.” You fought to keep your voice steady, but he didn’t seem to notice or care about the breaks. You felt your breathing getting deeper and your hands were tingling as the panic rose in you.

“That’s because my jobs fucking important!” he shouted and you flinched, tears swarming in your eyes as you wiped your sweating hands on your hoodie, stepping to him.

“But you said I should come to you if-“ he cut you off by slamming his hands down, shoulder hunched and glare furious as he shouted at you.

“Will you just fuck off! I have important shit going on.” You stopped where you were standing as he picked up his mug, storming out the room and slamming the door to his office behind him.

Tears spilled out of your eyes and you stumbled as you sat down, legs and hands going numb as you hyperventilated, the panic attack hitting you full force as you sobbed into your hands, trying to muffle the sounds so you wouldn’t bother Azriel anymore than you already had. You counted your breaths as you dug your nails into your palm, trying to calm yourself down and thankfully, slowly your breathing began to return to normal as you wiped at your eyes.

Of course he didn’t care. No one else does, you don’t deserve him, and you should be thankful that you have someone so good to you. Half your brain was arguing in his favour as the other half protested, but he hurt you, you can’t let him in again, this is what happens when people get to close.

Your head kept arguing with itself as you pulled yourself upright, walking through to your room and climbing under the covers of your bed, crying yourself to sleep, head pounding and somehow heavier than before.

--

You woke up to an empty bed and pounding headache. You dragged yourself out from under the covers and went to receive a glass of water and some painkillers, finding Azriel in the kitchen.

He smiled softly at you when you came in, but you averted your gaze, going to the sink and filling a large glass.

“Would you like a coffee?” he asked, his hand coming to your hip, but you shook your head, pulling out of his grip and clearing your throat as a weighted silence filled the room. “I’m sorry I shouted at you,” he muttered, desperate to get you to look at him again, but you just turned away, muttering a small “it’s okay,” under your breath and leaving.

You walked back to your room and sat down on the bed as you sipped your water and taking two painkillers. Azriel followed you in soon after, guilt gnawing at his insides and he stood quietly and watched as you pulled the jumper you were wearing over your head, pulling on a clean one.

He inhaled sharply as he saw the change in your body, moving closer to you.

“Have you been eating?” he asked, and you closed your eyes, facing away from him and staying silent as you no longer trusted your voice or temper. “Baby, you have to eat.” While he said it in a pleading manner, your brain heard it as angry, thousands of comments pertaining to how worthless you were springing to the forefront of your mind.

“It’s kinda hard to eat when you want to die.” You snapped and Azriel felt a pang go through his heart.

“(y/n). You promised me you would come to me if you felt that way,” he was frustrated, hating himself for getting annoyed at you but angry that you were ignoring him.

You laughed bitterly and you went to the bathroom, scrubbing the old makeup of your face, “I did. Or at least tried to,”

You stormed past him, pulling on a pair of joggers before moving to leave the house, but Azriel caught your arm.

“You haven’t done anything stupid have you?” he asked, worry and guilt filling him as your eyes filled with tears, finally looking at him enough that he could see the dark circles surrounding your hollow eyes, your skin dull and lacking its usual dewy finish.

“Why do you care.” You pulled your arm from his grip, stepping back and creating space between the two of you.

“Because you’re my mate and I need to know that you’re okay.” He tried to move closer again, but you stepped back so he stopped.

“Your mate huh? Then why haven’t I seen you in a fucking week, even though we fucking live together! Why are you only just noticing that I’m struggling!?” each word hit him like a blow and only his decades of training stopped him from bursting into tears, falling to his knees and begging your forgiveness.

“I was struggling so much, I couldn’t leave my bed, I wasn’t eating, I wanted to kill myself and as soon as I tried to reach out for help you shut me down.” You head was bowed, tears flowing freely as you sobbed into your hand.

He stepped closer his arms wrapping around you as you sobbed into his chest, “I’m sorry baby, I’m so, so sorry,” he kissed your head, his heart cracking at your next muffled words.

“You only care now because you feel bad. I don’t need your sympathy.”

“No baby, I’m sorry. I care so much I was just tired and stressed last night and I know that’s not an excuse, but you have to know how much I care about you. I love you so much and I need you to be okay.” He tightened his arms around you, bringing the two of you to kneel on the floor.

“I’m not okay Az,” you muttered, and his chest tightened as he stroked your back, allowing you to cry for as long as you needed.

“I know baby, but it’s okay. We’ll get through this, together.” He kissed your forehead lightly and you tilted your head to look at him, eyes wide and glassy with tears. He kissed one of the tears that was slowly trailing down your face away and you sniffed, before he kissed you lightly. He picked you up and carried you over to the bed, the two of you lying down together, tucked safely into his arms as he whispered sweet nothings and apologies to you as you fell asleep. Tears drying on their own.

[fanficshiddles]

My Sweet Rose, Chapter 2

Rosie was really nervous as she walked along to the restaurant to meet Loki for their first date.

They had text a few times and he called her yesterday for a chat, that turned into an hour long. But it made her excited to see him again, though the nerves were still there, churning away in her stomach.

But as soon as she saw him waiting outside the restaurant for her, in a dashing all black suit, her worries started to melt away.

‘Hello, darling. So good to see you again.’ He greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, then he surprised her by pulling her into a warm embrace.

It was one of the best hugs she had ever had. It wasn’t rushed, it was warm and she felt oddly safe. She breathed in deeply, feeling better already. And Loki knew it. He knew she was nervous, he could tell by her body language when she approached. But he could feel her relaxing in his arms.

Then taking her hand in his and giving her a reassuring squeeze, he led her inside the restaurant.

That had been the first of many hugs and hand holding, Rosie had been addicted to his hugs. She had always felt safe and secure in his arms, right from the start.

She didn’t sleep great at all after seeing Loki again, her mind was constantly on him. Worse than ever now, knowing he was in the same building as her. There was no way she could stay here now, not now he was here. It would be too painful every day to see him.

But she knew it would take a few weeks to get a new place organised, and she would need to look for a new job. The plus with this job with Pepper was the free lodgings, which was great. And the pay along with it was brilliant.

In the meantime, though, until she decided what she was going to do, she knew she had to put on her brave pants and try to get through it. To face him, well, ignore him but carry on.

Though as soon as she stepped out of her room, she was looking around paranoid about bumping into him. So she walked as quickly as she could towards the kitchen, she needed to grab something to eat before going to meet Pepper in the lab.

Of course, though, she was just heading into the kitchen when Loki walked right into her path.

She froze on the spot, eyes widening. Loki was sure he even saw her trembling.

‘Rose…’

Rosie took a step back from him.

‘We need to talk.’ He said in a firmer manner and reached out towards her arm, but she moved further away, shaking her head. Then she turned on her heels and ran off back down the corridor.

Loki felt his heart hurting.

It reminded him a bit of when they first started getting intimate together, exploring various kinks. She was very shy and nervous. Though nothing quite like now, she even seemed scared. Which hurt him the most.

‘You are simply divine, my darling.’ Loki hummed as he trailed his fingers down Rosie’s spine, making her tremble.

He stalked around her like a predator about to devour his prey. She was completely naked, stood in the middle of his bedroom while he was still fully clothed in dark black jeans and a deep green shirt, with the sleeves rolled up his forearms.

She was so nervous, she could barely even look him in the eye as he eyed her up. Her stomach was in knots and she felt like running out of the room, but she somehow managed to remain where she was.

‘No need to look so scared, my sweet Rose.’ Loki said as he tipped her chin up, forcing her to make eye contact. Though her eyes skirted all over his face, before eventually landing on his eyes and remaining there. Even if she was blushing hard and breathing heavy.

‘Daddy will take care of his good girl, always.’ He said softly and then stepped in closer to her, slipping his arms around her to pull her into him.

She breathed in deeply as she buried her face into his chest, feeling calmer already and safe in his embrace.

Whilst she was still nervous, she trusted Loki as he took her hand and led her to his bed. He was careful with her as he laid her down on her back and he straddled carefully over her, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand.

‘Raise your hands up above you, little one.’ He said firmly but kindly.

She knew if she was to panic or get really scared, she could safe word out of the situation. And whilst she hadn’t needed to use it yet, they had barely gotten started together with intimacy. But she knew that if she needed him to stop anything, that he would.

Loki pulled some long velvet material from down the side of his bed and he began to expertly tie her wrists together when she put them above her. He winked down at her as he then tied them to the headboard.

He saw her swallowing hard as she tugged on it a little, testing them. She was bound well. It made her excited, but more nervous again. It was actually happening.

Loki could tell her nerves were building again. He trailed the tips of his fingers slowly from her wrists down her arms, her inner elbows and then further down yet. She let out a small giggle and wriggled a bit under him as he reached her underarms and tickled her lightly for a few seconds, breaking the ice more and helping to distract her.

It didn’t all have to be serious, he wanted to make her comfortable. To enjoy it. To trust him. That was what it was all about. Especially since it was her first time being restrained.

‘Ticklish, are we?’ He teased and chuckled, moving further down her body. He tickled the sides of her breasts momentarily, enjoying the way they jiggled as she squirmed and laughed.

He leaned down and started sucking on her nipples, his fingers kept exploring further down to her hips. But his tickling touch then became firmer, her laughter became moans instead.

‘I wonder how ticklish my little one is down here.’ He growled and moved further down her body, spreading her legs open and making her a bit shy again as he focused on her cunt.

He ran his fingers up and down her outer folds first, then spread her open and started licking her softly, taking his time at first. He listened closely to the noises she was making, what she seemed to like and what drove her crazy. She was so aroused, his chin was covered with her juices and he hadn’t been down there for long yet.

When he focused on her clit, she almost bucked him off the bed. Making him chuckle against her. Then he growled and feasted on her like a starved man, paying plenty of attention to her clit.

‘Please… Can I cum, p… please!’ She cried out, unsure if she would be able to hold off even if he said no.

‘You may.’ Loki growled, only stopping briefly to give her permission before he was back to making her dance on his tongue.

‘Oh my, you taste exquisite.’ Loki purred after she had cum and he’d licked her clean, though that had just made her even messier. He crawled up over her and untied her wrists, surprising her slightly that it was over already, it hadn’t been scary at all like she thought it might be at first.

Loki slipped his arms around her and rolled them to the side, cradling her into him. She hid her face into the crook of his neck as he rubbed her back softly.

‘Such a good girl. Did you enjoy that?’ He asked, his voice just above a whisper.

She nodded and curled herself more into him, making him smile as he kissed the top of her head.

After mulling it over for an hour, Loki decided to go to her room and speak to her. She couldn’t run from him there.

Instead of knocking, he just teleported in. But he was annoyed to find she wasn’t there.

He knew he should’ve respected her privacy and just left. But his nosey-ness got the better of him. He had a look around her room. Ended up looking in her wardrobe and smiled fondly as he saw she still had the cute pyjamas and nighties that he’d gifted her. Including some cuddly toys at the bottom of her wardrobe.

Loki ended up wandering through into her bathroom. His brows furrowed as he spotted a bottle by the sink. It was prescribed drugs from the doctor he noted as he picked it up to take a look. He didn’t know what it was, but he made a mental note of the name. Then he left her room, not wanting to be caught snooping.

‘What were you doing in Rosie’s room?’ Pepper snapped at Loki when she caught him leaving.

Loki narrowed his eyes at her. ‘She isn’t in there, if that’s what you’re getting at.’

‘That makes it worse, you were in there without permission.’

Loki rolled his eyes, then asked what those pills were for that he’d found in her bathroom.

‘They are for anxiety and depression. Why?’ Pepper frowned.

Loki frowned too. ‘Why would Rose need them?’ He asked, appalled.

Pepper’s eyes widened. ‘I didn’t realise she was on them… But it’s no wonder after what you put her through.’

Loki didn’t listen to anymore. He teleported back into Rosie’s bathroom and grabbed the pills, then teleported to the kitchen to look for her. He spotted her in the corner of the room at a table, there was no one else around.

He stormed over towards her, perhaps a bit too quickly as she looked up and looked scared as he approached her. But then she was confused when he took her pills and put them down on the table on front of her.

‘Why are you filling your body with this ridiculous junk?’ Loki asked a bit too harshly, but he just couldn’t understand why she would do it.

Rosie was stunned for a moment, unable to process what the hell was going on.

‘I… I’ve needed them for a while now. They help.’ Rosie said quietly as she reached over the table and grabbed the bottle back.

Loki frowned. ‘These will mess with your mind, you don’t need them.’

‘You can’t tell me what I need or don’t need anymore! You gave that up when you just left me!’ Rosie snapped and stood up quickly, tears instantly started falling down her face.

‘I thought I wasn’t good enough for you, for anyone. That I wasn’t worthy of having a Daddy or even just a boyfriend. Not even worth two minutes of your time to tell me face to face or even call to tell me it was off. Instead you left me wondering for days, weeks, months, what happened and what I did wrong. Over and over I kept thinking about what I did wrong to make you leave, and what I could have done to keep you happy. These pills were the fourth ones to try, to help calm my brain down. To stop the dark thoughts from plaguing my mind every single day and night.’

She took a breath and tried to stop crying, but she just couldn’t. Her sight was all blurry.

‘It became obvious when I saw the news about you… I would be in no league for a God. But then I started mulling over why you even took interest in the first place. Probably nothing more than just a play toy, something to pass some of your time.’

Rosie was just folding up some of her washing in the living room while the TV was on in the background. She tried to keep herself busy enough, anything to try and stop herself from thinking about him. 

Suddenly an emergency news bulletin overcame the usual TV programmes. There was an attack happening in New York, aliens. 

Looking up at the TV, her eyes widened at seeing the destruction going on. She saw The Avengers there trying to save the day as always. 

But when the camera zoomed in briefly on the villain trying to take over, her heart stopped and she started sobbing uncontrollably. 

It was Loki. It was him. 

She couldn’t believe it as she fell to the floor on her hands and knees, crying and screaming in anger, frustration, sadness, fear. Everything rolled into one.

‘No wonder he left… He’s a God. I’m nothing but an ant in comparison, probably a toy for him to play with just to pass the time while he was here to scope out the planet.’ She rambled to herself as she hauled herself back up to her feet and threw the rest of her clothes on the floor, not caring anymore.

But that was the first of many days of not caring anymore, down a dark spiral.

Loki was stunned at her outburst. And seeing her so upset broke his heart, he was unable to do anything to comfort her. Not that he thought she would let him hold her anyway.

‘Rose… Rosie… I, that was never what’

Rosie didn’t give him a chance, she grabbed her things and darted past him, running out of the kitchen from him. And Loki found he was unable to move from the spot to go after her, as much as he wanted to.

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

It's been a while, but the Undertaker role on Friday night among us got me thinking!

The glitch where a player doesn't die instantly after being injured happens again, this time to Etho. He's in shock at first and can't communicate what's going on, and the Undertaker imposter (pick who might go best with Etho) starts to drag him away. The Imposter quickly realises that somehow, horribly, this guy isn't actually dead, and makes a snap decision to drag him to the medbay and try to save him rather than hiding the body, knowing they'll probably get seen on the way and have their cover blown. Whether or not the Imposter succeeds in their first aid attempt is up to you!

(Also gives room to explain Etho's absense that night with him having to recover from the glitch! Fluffy recovery opportunities!)

yay for the return of the long-and-painful-death glitch! lol

technically a sequel to this one

...

  It’s the first match of the session and the tension is palpable. The newest role has everyone quietly excited: the Undertaker role, allowing an imposter to move a body from one place to another. It’s such a simple thing and yet, as with all the special roles, it could be a game-changer. 

  Crewmate Etho is on his own again, monitoring the cameras in security. There’s six people left and even though they’ve already ejected Impulse, Etho isn’t completely convinced it was him. He has two suspects in mind, and he wants to make sure he knows where they are. 

  But all of a sudden, he hears the vent flap open and he spins around…

  ...just in time to see a flash of green and feel a sharp pain in his stomach. 

  Etho sinks to his knees, pressing his hand against the wound to try and help the pain. He lets himself collapse to the floor, the agony dulling his senses and threatening to pull him under. He’s not even attempting to stem the blood flow; he knows he’ll be dead in seconds. 

  But seconds go by.

  A minute.

  He doesn’t die.

  His mind is fuzzy. But he knows something is wrong. He just can’t do anything about it except lie on the ground and slowly bleed out.

  Eventually, something takes hold of him under the arms and starts to drag him away. Even though he’s seconds from death, he feels a bolt of panic and he lets out a groan.

  Immediately, the grip on him is released and at the same time, he hears a quiet yelp: “HOLY fu-!”

  A very brief pause.

  “E-Etho…? Are you… alive…?”

  This time, Etho can’t muster another noise. But as he attempts to move his hand, arm, leg, anything, his chest spasms and he lets out an involuntary cough.

  “Oh my actual god, you ARE alive…!”

  Etho is able to identify the voice now, and it’s one of the people he suspected of being the imposter. 

  But before he can make another attempt to speak or move, Brody takes hold of him again and continues dragging him. More panic hits him; Brody must be the Undertaker but he knows Etho’s not dead, so where is he taking him? He wishes he could look but when he opens his eyes, the world around him is still too fuzzy for him to register where he is.

  Finally, Brody stops dragging him and heaves him up. Etho can’t work out what Brody is trying to do until he registers a soft surface below him and he realises.

  Brody has brought him to medbay.

  “Stay with me, Etho,” Brody murmurs, hurriedly collecting up first aid supplies. The benefit of being an imposter here is the fact that he’s able to shut the medbay doors to ensure he’s not disturbed. 

  But he realises there are two people who need to know about this. 

  Thankfully, one of them vents into the room just as Brody is cutting open Etho’s shirt to access the wound. 

  “Brody, what on earth are you doing?” Astro demands. “What is this?”

  Brody fixes him with such a serious look that a chill runs down Astro’s spine. “Astro, there’s been a glitch. When you stabbed Etho, he didn’t quite die.”

  Astro stares at him in shock. “Wh-What?”

  “He’s still alive and suffering horrible pain. Astro, I need you to go get Evil.”

  Astro, frozen in horror at what he’s caused, doesn’t move.

  “Go get Evil!” snaps Brody, giving him a quick push. “Just GO!”

  Managing to shake himself into action, Astro jumps back into the vent.

  Brody turns back to Etho and finishes cleaning up the wound. Unfortunately, the majority of the machinery in medbay is just for show, so he can’t assess any internal injuries Etho has. But all he really needs to do is keep Etho alive until the game ends. 

  As Brody is patching up the wound, the medbay doors slide open and Astro reappears, followed by Evil. Astro closes the medbay doors again while Evil dashes over to the bed, his worried eyes asking a silent question.

  “It happened again,” Brody confirms. 

  “Again?!” Astro bursts out. “This has happened before?”

  Evil nods slowly, ignoring Astro. “You two are the imposters, then?” 

  “Yeah. But I don’t care about that now. I just need to keep Etho alive until the game ends. The post-game process will heal him.”

  “Guys, WHAT are you talking about?” Astro demands. “What’s going on?”

  Brody huffs annoyedly. “Evil, catch him up.”

  As Evil explains, Brody finishes patching up Etho’s injury and starts to wrap a bandage around his body. Throughout all of this, Etho has remained pale and still, prompting Brody to continually check his pulse. He’s still alive, but barely. Brody’s treatment is helping him cling onto life. 

  Evil appears back at Etho’s side. “How is he?”

  “Hanging in there. Where’s Astro?”

  Evil points over at the corner near the vent, where Astro is sitting against the wall with his knees drawn to his chest, his face buried in his hands.

  “What’s wrong with him?” 

  As a response, Evil simply gestures to Etho.

  After a moment, Brody sighs and hands the tail end of the bandage to Evil. “Finish this off for me quickly.”

  He joins Astro in the corner and crouches down next to him, awkwardly placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “This isn’t your fault, Astro,” he says.

  “How is this not my fault?” Astro responds despondently, his voice muffled through his hands. “I caused this.”

  “You were playing the game. There’s no way you could’ve known this would happen.”

  He doesn’t get a response to this, so he gently pulls Astro’s hands away from his face, forcing his friend to look him in the eye. “Astro. You can’t blame yourself for this, okay? Etho is gonna be fine. And going by what happened last time, he won’t even remember that this happened.”

  “But I will, won’t I?” asks Astro quietly. 

  “Actually, I’m not sure,” Brody admits. “Impulse was the imposter in this situation last time and as far as I know, he never found out what happened.”

  “Oh. So even though Etho won’t remember me stabbing him and leaving him to bleed out very slowly, I actually might?”

  Brody nods reluctantly. “You might.”

  Astro lets put a low groan. “I feel sick…” 

  “Brody?” calls Evil at that moment, his voice low and shaky.

  Brody turns his head. “What?”

  “He- He’s not breathing.” 

  Brody’s stomach drops and he shoots forward so fast he almost trips over. He rushes back to Etho’s side and checks his friend’s pulse using both his wrist and his neck. 

  He finds nothing. 

  Touching Etho’s hand, he finds his friend’s skin cold already, confirming what he already knows to be true. 

  A muted noise comes from Astro as he turns away. 

  As Brody hangs his head, Evil reaches over and gently touches his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. 

  “We need to end this game,” says Brody, forcing himself to keep his voice steady. “Now.”

  With almost no hesitation, Evil says, “One of you kill me.”

  Brody glances sharply at him. “What?”

  “There’s five of us left, right? Etho was the sixth. So there’s five left now. Kill me and end the game.”

  “Are you sure?” asks Brody hesitantly. “The glitch might happen again.” 

  “I’m sure,” Evil responds firmly. “Like you said, we need to end it. It’ll take too long to just vote you guys out; I’m standing right here so you may as well end it by killing me.” He glances over at his friend. “Astro?”

  “No,” says Astro shakily. 

  “Astro, it’s okay.”

  “No it’s NOT!” Astro’s voice rises. “You think I can bear causing so much pain and suffering to two of my friends in the same game?! I’m NOT killing you!” 

  Evil quickly nods. “Okay, I understand. Brody?”

  “Aren’t I in the same boat?” Brody says. “Do you really trust me to do it properly?”

  “Yeah, I do.” Evil gives a brave smile. “I trust you, Brody. With my life.”

  Ignoring the twinge in his chest, Brody draws his gun and aims it directly at Evil. “Okay. Good luck.”

  Taking a deep breath, Brody fires. 

  BANG.

  And luckily this time, the game acts as it’s supposed to. 

  As soon as Brody respawns in the lobby, he rushes over to his friend. “Etho, hey. You good?”

  “Me?” Etho blinks. “Yeah, why?”

  Brody gives a slow nod. “Nothing. Just checking.”

  He draws Evil aside to a corner of the lobby. “Okay, Etho definitely doesn’t remember,” he confirms.”

  “Does Astro?” asks Evil.

  Brody glances over at their green-clad friend, who’s leaning against the wall, arms folded and eyes staring blankly out into space.

  “...I think he might.”

  Evil and Brody approach Astro, who glances numbly at them as they get closer. “I remember,” is all he says. 

  “So the crewmate in the situation won’t remember what happened but the imposter will,” says Brody thoughtfully. “Interesting. I wonder why that is?”

  “I don’t really care,” Astro responds bluntly. “I just want to forget that whole thing ever happened.”

  “No, this is good. Kinda. It means you’re now part of our little trifecta of people who know about the glitch. Evil and I promised each other last time that if we experience this again as imposter, we’ll go find each other and let them know, even if we’re the imposter.” He fixes his friends with a serious look. “This is a dangerous glitch. Astro, promise me that if this does happen to you again, you’ll come find one of us.”

  Astro watches him for a moment, before slowly nodding. “Okay. I- Hey, Etho’s leaving.”

  Brody turns just in time to see Etho leave the lobby. Frowning, he quickly follows Etho out and catches him just going down the corridor. “Etho, wait!”

  Etho pauses and glances back. “Oh, hey. I just let Tango know I had to leave; I’m suddenly not feeling too great.”

  “O-Oh.” Brody stares at him. “I’m sorry to hear that. Feel better.”

  “Thanks. See you.”

  Brody watches his friend disappear round the corner, his mind racing. This has NEVER happened before. Etho has never felt unwell this early in a session before — or really ever. Surely it’s no coincidence considering what happened last round? Even though his brain doesn’t remember what happened, maybe his body does. 

  Or maybe his code does. 

[morganaspendragonss]

Hello 🥰 Whump fic idea :)TK lands in the hospital, again. But this time they're serious, serious injuries, he is under a respirator, he is not breathing on his own, the doctors do not give him much chance of survival, they even advise it would be the best to prepare for the worst and say goodbye, just in case. Owen calls Gwen, she's arriving the same day with Enzo and baby junior. When in the hospital they find out how it happened and that it's mostly Owen's fault (I don't know, for example, he allowed Tk to enter the unstable building to tend to the patient, or whether he made someone else angry and this person unloaded it on TK, or Owen decided to do something reckless and TK wanted to save him or it is The arson situation from 2x12 so Gwyn arrives pregnant, without a baby of course), Gwyn slaps him twice and Enzo punches him right in the nose, breaking it, for risking TK's life. Fortunately, despite the bad prognosis, TK wakes up, but after he took his sweet time being in a coma.

holly's august extravaganza day 3: the meetings for those in my wake

thanks for the prompt! i really loved writing this one though i need to confess to toning it down a little? idk but with the way it was going it didn't feel right to have enzo break owen's nose. i hope you still like it!

ao3 | 3.3k | major character injury, coma, angst with a happy ending

For years after the divorce, Gwyn came to learn that any call from Owen was almost certainly bad news.

TK got in a fight.

TK overdosed.

TK was shot, he’s in the hospital.

Over and over, until the first words out of her mouth whenever Owen’s name flashed up on her screen were, What’s wrong?

Things have been better in the three years since her time in Texas. Gwyn suspects it’s partly TK’s influence—he’s been more than enthusiastic in getting to know his baby brother, and Isaac has latched onto TK despite only seeing him in person every few months or so. But they’ve talked as well, she and Owen, and they really are doing better. They’re almost like friends now, which is why Gwyn thinks nothing of it when he calls just after she’s put Isaac to bed for the night.

“Owen, hey,” she greets. “What’s up?”

The silence she’s answered with is the first sign that something’s wrong.

The sob that follows is the second.

“Owen?” Gwyn repeats, louder this time, her heart leaping into her throat. She sits down heavily on the sofa as she waits for Owen’s response; there’s only one thing that could make him cry like that, and tears prick at Gwyn’s eyes as she imagines TK hurt again, or worse.

“Gwyn,” Owen eventually manages to gasp out, voice wrecked. “Gwyn, it’s TK. He’s… You need to get here. You need— It’s not like last time. They don’t know if he’s going to— They don’t think— It’s bad. Really bad.”

Owen breaks off, crying harder, and Gwyn claps a hand to her mouth. She remembers well how devastated he’d been when he called about the gunshot, but this a whole other level. Gwyn’s head spins with the potential implications of that and she finds her breath coming in sharp gasps, but it’s Owen’s next words that knocks it from her altogether.

“They think we should say goodbye.”

The rest of the story comes haltingly—someone got angry after his son couldn’t be saved on a call, he came to the firehouse, he attacked TK—but Gwyn barely hears it. Her boy is in the hospital again and this time…this time he might not be coming home. She can’t understand it; she spoke to him just two days ago, they made plans for he and Carlos to visit for Isaac’s birthday, and now…

“I’m so sorry, Gwyn,” Owen finishes. She feels a flash of that age-old urge to scream at him, but she fights it off, not wanting to wake Isaac.

“I’ll be on the first flight over,” she promises, then ends the call, sliding off the couch to the floor. Her phone falls from limp fingers and harsh sobs tear from her throat, muffled by the press of her fist against her mouth.

Enzo finds her there an hour later and immediately takes her in his arms, not complaining about her tears soaking his shirt. When she tells him what happened, he insists on joining her, and Gwyn allows herself to take that shred of comfort and run with it.

She thinks it’s the only comfort she’s likely to get right now.

The next flight isn’t until morning, so Gwyn spends a sleepless night packing and unpacking their suitcases and making phone calls with the firm and her clients to cancel everything for the foreseeable. She has the brief, terrible thought about whether she should pack funeral attire, which almost sends her into a panic attack as reality hits her all over again.

Enzo saves her from it, gently guiding her to bed, but not before she packs the clothes anyway.

Isaac seems to pick up on her mood when they’re hurrying out of the house, remaining mostly quiet aside from the odd question about where they’re going. He perks up considerably when he finds out they’re heading to Austin, babbling about seeing TK, and Gwyn has to blink hard to keep from crying again. Enzo reaches over to take her hand, and he barely lets go until they’re landing in Austin.

*

The entrance to the ICU looms before her, and Gwyn feels stuck. There had been a part of her, still, that had hoped to find TK miraculously awake and on the mend, like the last time she had made this trip. She doesn’t want to believe that he’s here, hurt, maybe dying.

But he is, and she’s forcefully reminded of that fact when a kind-looking nurse approaches her hesitantly.

“Ma’am? Can I help you?”

Gwyn blinks at her, her brain taking a moment to catch up. “I, um. I’m here to see my son. TK Strand.” She pauses, then shakes her head, cursing herself internally. “Tyler Kennedy Strand.”

The nurse’s entire demeanour changes, a sympathetic smile taking over her face. “This way.” She leads Gwyn through the ICU, then points at a door near the end of the corridor. “Tyler’s room is just there. I promise, we’re doing everything we can for him.”

Gwyn nods absently, her gaze stuck on the door the nurse had indicated. She walks forward slowly, the room seeming to get further and further away until, suddenly, she’s standing on the threshold, and she sees her son.

TK is barely visible, his face half-obscured by the ventilator, half by bruises, and heavy gauze covers his forehead. His arms, resting limply at his sides, are littered with scrapes, and if Gwyn squints, she can just about make out more bandages peeking out from under the hospital gown.

She’d thought that seeing him would make it all real, but she feels separate from everything somehow, only one thought going through her mind on repeat.

This is not my son.

A quiet whisper draws her attention to the figure sitting at TK’s side. Gwyn has to suppress a gasp as she takes in Carlos’s appearance; she hasn’t seen him in person since the wedding last year, and his pale face and red-rimmed eyes cut a stark contrast to that day. He hasn’t noticed her yet, wholly fixated on TK, one hand gently stroking the tufts of hair poking out above the bandage. His lips move and Gwyn knows she should walk away, but instead she finds herself leaning closer, straining to hear Carlos’s words.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he’s saying. “I know you’re fighting and I know you’re going to try as hard as you can to come back to us—believe me, Ty, I am praying every day to see those pretty green eyes of yours open again. But I—I want you to know that it’s okay if you can’t. If it gets too hard, if you need to let go, you can. I already miss you like crazy and I really, really, don’t want to live the rest of my life without you, but the thing I can’t stand more than that is the idea of you suffering.

“Come back if you can, but if someday you find you can’t, remember that I love you and we’ll be okay. I promise.”

Carlos sniffs and ducks his head to place a gentle, lingering kiss on TK’s cheekbone. It’s such a tender, intimate moment, but it quickly shatters when Carlos looks up and spots her, his eyes going wide. “Gwyn. I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were there.”

She waves him off, willing herself to finally step into the room. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have said something, but I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Carlos nods, giving her a small, sad smile, which Gwyn does her best to return. She pulls up another chair and sinks into it, reaching out to take TK’s hand. She’s startled by the coolness of his skin, and more tears burn in the back of her eyes.

“What did the doctors say?” she asks, clearing her throat and twisting her body towards Carlos, though her eyes never leave TK.

“That it was a miracle he made it through surgery,” Carlos says, sighing wearily. “Eight stab wounds, too much blood loss, damage to his organs, broken ribs—that’s all bad enough, but they’re most worried about his brain. He took at least two blows to the head, and add that to the fact he wasn’t breathing for a good few minutes… They keep saying not to speculate, but we all know the odds here.”

Carlos’s voice breaks and Gwyn reaches out to comfort him, feeling sick to her stomach at the revelation. Why anyone would do this to her boy, she can’t comprehend; she finds herself both wanting answers and feeling unable to take any more.

Owen chooses that moment to appear in the doorway, looking every bit as wrecked as he sounded on the phone. “Gwyn,” he says roughly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Carlos moves as if to give them privacy, but Gwyn shakes her head at him, cutting off his protests before he can even get them out. “You stay with him, Carlos,” she tells him. “We’ll talk in the hall.”

They head to a quiet spot not too far from TK’s room, and Gwyn turns to face Owen, holding her arms. “What the hell happened, Owen? Why is our son lying in there, not even breathing on his own?”

A flicker of a frown crosses Owen’s face. “I told you—”

“No, you didn’t.” Gwyn clenches her jaw, staring him down. “You said he’d been attacked, not that some maniac had used him as their personal punching bag.”

A few more seconds pass before Owen relents, sighing. “There was a call,” he starts, voice heavy with sorrow. “A car accident; dad and his kid were trapped inside. We got the dad out but the son was stuck pretty good. It took a long time to free him and by then it was too late—EMS did their best, but he was gone.

“The dad went ballistic, screaming at all of us, but especially at TK. We don’t really know why, but it was probably a convenience thing; TK had been the one to break the news, he was the closest person—the guy wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. He threatened him, tried to hit him—the cops had to arrest him eventually, but you know TK. He refused to press charges, said that the dad was just in shock and that he understood.”

Gwyn smiles a little at that; her son has always been too forgiving for his own good. It’s never come back to hurt him this badly before, though.

Owen pauses, throat bobbing as he seems to work up to the next part. His voice is quiet, and he seems reluctant to meet Gwyn’s eyes. “He showed up at the firehouse a week later—the dad, I mean. He said he wanted to apologise and, I swear, Gwyn, he really did seem genuine. None of us wanted to let him near TK, but ultimately it was TK’s decision. They went round the side of the house to talk; when neither of them came back after twenty minutes, we went looking.

“By that time, the guy was gone, and TK was…” He stops and shakes his head, swallowing hard. “He could barely breathe. Tommy and Nancy did what they could and they got him here quickly, but we have no idea how long he’d been like that before we found him.”

Gwyn’s head snaps up, a white-hot anger flashing through her. “I can’t believe you,” she hisses. “You left our son alone with a man who had already threatened him for twenty minutes, Owen.”

Owen frowns. “I told you, he seemed genuine. And TK—”

Gwyn can’t help it; she slaps him. “Don’t you dare,” she grounds out, crowding into Owen’s space. “Don’t you dare act like this was his fault.”

“I wasn’t—”

Her arm moves on instinct, but before she can connect again, a hand closes around her wrist. Gwyn turns to find Enzo staring at her, brow wrinkled in confusion.

“Gwyn, what’s going on?”

She shakes her head and takes a step back from Owen, freeing herself from Enzo’s grasp. “What’s going on,” she responds tightly, “is that he is part of the reason why my son is half-dead in there.”

Enzo gapes between them. “What?”

She ignores the question, needing to focus on anything else to keep her anger from overwhelming her. “What are you doing here anyway? Where’s Isaac?”

“He’s with Grace and Judd, they offered to babysit so I could come here. What—”

“Hang on,” Owen interrupts. “What is he doing here? I figured he’d stay in New York with the kid.”

“Isaac is TK’s brother, Owen,” Gwyn says, turning on him again. “And Enzo has just as much right to be here as any of us; he was more of a father to TK than you were sometimes.”

Owen’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Him? You’re joking, right?”

Gwyn isn’t sure what happens next, who starts it, but soon they’re all yelling, insults and accusations flying around the ward. There’s a furious nurse heading their way, but before she can say anything, another voice cuts through the argument, quiet and trembling but still somehow powerful.

“Get out,” Carlos says. “All of you.”

They all turn to him, Gwyn’s lips parting in shock. Owen takes a step towards him, holding his hands out in a gesture that’s probably meant to be pacifying.

“Carlos—”

“I mean it, Owen,” he snaps, harsher than Gwyn has ever heard him before. “You all screaming at each other is the last thing any of us needs, least of all TK. The only person to blame in all this is the guy who attacked him, and he’s already in custody; he’ll get what’s coming to him. If TK—” Carlos breaks off, clenching his jaw and staring down at the floor. He closes his eyes for a moment, before breathing out shakily and looking back up at them. “If anything changes, I’ll call you, I promise. But you can’t be here right now. Go, please.”

Carlos doesn’t wait for a response before turning on his heel and going back into TK’s room, reassuming his position next to the bed. Gwyn watches him for a second, nodding when Enzo pointedly takes her elbow.

“He’s right,” she says, directed at Owen. “We should go.”

Owen glares, gearing up to argue again, but he must think better of it as he suddenly slumps, all the energy draining out of him. “Right,” he mutters. “Right.”

They file slowly out of the ICU, closely watched by the hard eyes of the nurse from before. Gwyn spares one last look before forcing herself forwards; if getting here was hard, walking away is a thousand times worse.

*

Three weeks pass with no change and, crucially, no improvement. Gwyn spends more time with Carlos than she ever has before, and she hates that it’s her son being comatose that has brought the two of them closer. A tentative peace exists between her and Owen and she knows—truly, she knows—that the attack wasn’t his fault, that there was nothing that could have stopped it.

But she can’t help but be angry that, once again, her son was seriously hurt and she wasn’t around.

She takes Isaac to see TK once, when the worst of the bruises have faded a little. She worries that he’ll be scared, and he does seem to hesitate when they reach the room; in truth, Gwyn hadn’t wanted to bring him at all, but he’d kept asking about TK and she’d found herself helpless to do anything but acquiesce.

They still haven’t told him what’s going on. No-one knows how to. All Isaac knows is that TK is a little hurt and he needs rest, and even that knowledge seems to upset him.

Once he gets used to the sight, Isaac stretches his hands out to the bed. “TK,” he says simply, looking pleadingly up at Gwyn.

She hugs him close, trying to smile for him. “TK’s asleep, sweetie,” she explains. “He needs rest.”

“When wake up?”

“I don’t know, baby. I don’t know.”

*

Three weeks pass, and the doctors start talking about options and next steps. It’s obvious what that’s code for—they want to pull the plug. They’re told to take all the time they need to discuss it but, ultimately, the decision will be Carlos’s, as TK’s husband and next of kin.

Gwyn knows what choice he’s going to make; it’s the same one she, or anyone else in his position, would make.

That doesn’t make it any easier to bear, for any of them.

Gwyn finds him in the hallway, bent over with his head in his hands. She goes over and quietly sits in the chair next to him, placing a comforting hand on his back.

There’s a long silence before Carlos sniffs and turns to her, his face the picture of devastation. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this, Gwyn,” he whispers, voice cracking. “How am I supposed to just give up on him like that?”

She shakes her head. “You’re not giving up on him, Carlos. You’re letting him go.”

“I don’t know how to do that either.”

“None of us do.”

Silence again, but this time, it’s Gwyn that breaks it first. “Listen, Carlos, I know this is hard. God knows I wish none of us were even here. But we are, and we have to do what’s best for everyone, including TK.”

“I know that,” Carlos admits. “I just don’t want to lose him.” He closes his eyes and leans into Gwyn, allowing her to wrap him in a hug. “I wish we had more time.”

Gwyn’s heart breaks all over again, and she squeezes his shaking shoulders. “We’ve got time,” she says, though she knows that’s not what he meant. “As much as you need.”

The sob she’s answered with tells her there’s not enough time in the world for Carlos to say goodbye to TK.

*

The call comes in the middle of the night. Dread pools in Gwyn’s gut as she accepts it and lifts the phone to her ear, her hands trembling.

“Owen?”

“Gwyn. TK, he—he woke up. It was only for a few seconds, but he woke up, Gwyn. The doctors said it was a miracle; they think he might actually recover.”

Gwyn gasps, a sob crawling up her throat as the news sinks in. It’s everything she’s been praying for ever since that first call, and all she can think about now is getting to TK.

“I’ll be at the hospital in fifteen,” she says. She ends the calls and raises her hands to her face, wiping away the tears beginning to fall from her eyes.

Maybe this nightmare is finally coming to an end.

*

TK is off getting tests when Gwyn arrives, but she’s finally allowed back in the room an hour later, Carlos and Owen on her heels. The ventilator has been removed, replaced by a nasal cannula, and his eyes are open—barely to slits, but Gwyn doesn’t care. TK is awake and alive, and that’s all that matters.

As soon as she’s in the chair by the bed, she reaches out for him, her touch feather-light as she strokes his cheek. “My brave boy,” she whispers wetly. “My brave, brave boy.”

TK’s head rolls on the pillow so he’s facing her and he mumbles something that’s probably meant to be a greeting, but the words jumble together and come out as gibberish.

Gwyn thinks it’s the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard.

They’ve all been briefed about the risks of brain damage and all the potential lasting consequences which could impact the rest of TK’s life. But right now, as she holds TK’s hand with Carlos on his other side and Owen at her back, Gwyn chooses to take solace in the constant rise and fall of TK’s chest and the heart monitor beeping out a steady rhythm.

There’ll be enough time for worry later; for now, her son is alive, and Gwyn can’t think of anything else that's more important.

[ssa-montgomery]

I'm sorry to my unknown lover

Word Count: 2040

Summary: During a night out with the BAU Hotch can't hold in his feelings towards Emily anymore.

Characters: Hotch x Emily, JJ, Garcia, Morgan, Reid, Rossi

Warnings: Some angst and fighting, lots of yearning, fluff, declarations of love

A/N: Another Hotchniss fic! I actually had a lot of fun writing this one and I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did! I like to think that both Emily and Hotch are very stubborn when it comes to actually talking about their feelings and situations end like this for them far too often xD This fic was also requested on here so please do continue sending me prompts! I really appreciated the comments on my last Hotchniss fic and they motivated me to finish this one so please leave some comments and let me know what you're favourite part was :D

Prompts: "I can't keep kissing strangers and pretending that they're you." "I can't do this anymore." "It's scary what a smile can hide."

Feedback is what motivates me to work so please let me know what you think! Reblogs are also greatly appreciated.

Taglist is open!

Masterlist

The bar was busier than usual, all though for late on a Saturday evening it was to be expected. The team was working a rough case all week that thankfully ended well and had just arrived back in Quantico when Rossi suggested they head to the bar and let him buy them all drinks to celebrate. They quickly accepted, never turning down a free drink and headed out for the night. A few hours and plenty of rounds had passed by now. The tables around them were packed full of people and the noise of the conversations and the loud music playing all around them meant they had to shout to be heard but nobody seemed to mind. They'd lost track of the last time they got to spend time all together like this and it was a well needed night out.

While they all started the night sitting around one table the team had slowly been separating out across the bar. Morgan was now standing by the pool tables near the bar with his arm wrapped around the waist of an attractive blonde as he leaned in to be heard over the music, teaching her how to play pool with him. Reid who followed after him seemed to be in deep conversation with one of the men at the next table over, they had seemingly found a topic they were both passionate about as they ignored everything else around them in favour of their rant. Back at the main table, the team had fallen into a casual conversation, Rossi and Hotch talking together while Garcia filled JJ and Emily in on all the gossip they had missed at the office while they were away on the case.

Garcia suddenly stopped mid-rant and tilted her curiously, watching something over Emily's shoulder. She tapped JJ's arm and without exchanging a single word she knew exactly what she was talking about, simply nodding her head as a reply when Garcia turned to meet her gaze.

"What the hell are you two looking at?" Emily asked, furrowing her brow in confusion as she turned to look over her shoulder herself. She couldn't see anything out of place that they could have been staring at.

"That guy at the bar, uh the brunette with the dark shirt?" Garcia tried her best to gesture towards him as subtly as she could without giving away that the whole group was now staring over at him. "He's been staring over at you all night. I mean I can practically feel the yearning from here. You should go talk to him!"

"Oh." Emily hesitated and then shook her head nervously. She stared down at her glass, twisting it in her hand as she considered the idea. This had become a regular thing for them. JJ or Garcia would spot a cute guy and then convince Emily to go talk to him while she hid the truth about who she really wanted to talk to. "I don't know, is that really a good idea?"

"Um yes? Come on how many times have I told you it's time for you to get back out there Emily." JJ encouraged smiling widely at her. Before making any decision Emily glanced around the table waiting to see if anyone would object to the idea. Hoping he would. When everyone else remained silent Emily could feel that all too familiar sinking in her stomach. She pushed it down and tried to ignore it, putting on a bright smile instead.

"Oh okay screw it! What's the worst that can happen right?" Emily laughed doing exactly what she did best, hiding her disappointment. She lifted her glass and took another drink before standing up out of her seat and starting to walk towards the bar. JJ and Garcia watched on closely, leaning in to whisper together about how they thought it would work out. Even Morgan seemed to notice what was happening back at the table and he shot Emily a supportive grin as his form of encouragement from where he was standing.

It seemed the whole team was on board with setting Emily up with this mystery man as she sat down and started talking to him. Well, everyone but Hotch. He stared forward so no one caught onto the tightness in his chest with every second that she spent laughing with someone else. It all came to a breaking point when the man took her hand in his and leaned forward, kissing her gently. Hotch had to tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him then, not being able to take anymore. Part of him wanted to tell him to get his hands off of her, and the other part knew it wasn't his place. It was selfish, he knew that, but he couldn't stand to see Emily with someone that wasn't him. Then again it was his fault when he could never find the courage to tell her how he felt about her. Maybe if he could, things would be different and loving her wouldn't hurt so much.

While everyone else was still distracted by what was happening and he was sure they wouldn't notice him leaving he stood up and grabbed his coat from the bar of his chair. He quietly slipped away from the group and pushed his way through the crowds towards the back exit of the bar. It was cold as he stepped out into the biting late-night air and he pulled his coat on before continuing across the parking lot. He knew he should've told someone before he left - they always did, a safety precaution with their job - but at that moment all he wanted to do was find a cab and get home as quickly as he could. He was halfway to the street when he heard the sound of the heavy exit door swinging open behind him. He ignored it at first, presuming it was just another person leaving after him but then.

"Hotch?"

For a second he thought his mind was playing tricks on him, that his mind had been so consumed by her tonight that he was starting to hear things but when he finally turned around it was in fact Emily walking towards him. She was tugging her jacket closer to her body in an attempt to fight off the cold as she watched him curiously.

"Why'd you leave?" She asked, her voice almost sad.

Hotch opened his mouth to reply, ready to fire off some lame excuse as to why he needed to get out of there as quickly as he did, he was sure he could come up with a convincing lie like he had a hundred times before but instead he just sighed. He dropped his head in defeat and ran his hand across the back of his neck.

"I can't do this anymore." Was all he managed to get out, his tiredness at this whole situation obvious in his voice. He couldn't stand around and lie to Emily's face anymore. He turned around again and started to walk towards the street.

"Hotch!" Emily called out as she ran to catch up with him. He could hear the sound of her heels on the ground and he wished she would just go back inside. If she started to push him, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold it in anymore and it had been building for too long. He spun around to face her when she grasped at his arm to stop him in his tracks. "What is going on with you?"

"What's going on with me? Are you kidding me, Emily?" Hotch snapped with more aggression than he'd meant to, but it was too late now, the dam was finally burst and whether he liked it or not the truth was finally coming out. Emily's hand fell from his arm then and she stood back staring at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion. "What's going on with me is that no matter where I go I have to stand back and watch JJ and Garcia fawning over the idea of setting you up with every guy they see. What's going on is that I have to sit there and bite my tongue while I act like it doesn't bother me. I have to act like it doesn't physically hurt to see you kissing them because if I react then I'm unprofessional and I mean what does it matter anyway because you don't give a damn what I think about it so it's not my place to say anything anyway. I have to act like it's not eating me up inside."

Hotch stopped then, feeling his heart hammering in his chest and the sudden realisation of what he just said settling in. He started to panic, afraid that Emily would push him away and that he'd just ruined what relationship he already had with her. He wanted to apologise, to take it all back but he couldn't now. Emily laughed then. It was a short, sarcastic sound, more of a scoff than anything else.

"Wow. Seriously Hotch? Are you genuinely so oblivious that you think I don't care? I care! Of course, I care! I always have." It seemed it was Emily's turn to let out everything she had been holding back as she launched into a rant of her own, her voice slowly rising in volume as she did. "I flirt with those guys, I let them set me up to keep them happy, to keep them off my back about the real reason I haven't dated anyone in months. Tonight when they were encouraging me to go talk to that guy I looked around that table because I wanted you to stop me, I wanted you to give me a reason to think you cared enough to stop me. Instead, all I got was that blank expression that told me that you didn't care. Do you want to know why I kiss have of them? Why I kissed that guy tonight? Because they remind me of you. Because it's you I want to kiss but I can't and I can't keep kissing strangers and pretending that they're you."

"But-" Hotch trailed off then, as the weight of Emily's words settled over him. All this time, she had cared after all. All this time they had both been silently suffering because neither one was brave enough to admit the truth about their feelings. It felt silly now, all the excuses he'd told himself about why he couldn't just admit his feelings to Emily. He'd always believed she didn't want him and now he knew how wrong he was. "You always seemed so happy with them. Smiling and laughing the whole time."

"It's scary what a smile can hide," Emily admitted weakly, her voice barely above a whisper now. "It was never real with them, they could never really make me laugh, not the way you can."

That was all it took for Hotch to finally surge and pull Emily up into a fierce kiss. He cupped her cheek, letting his other arm wrap around her waist pulling her in closer to his chest as his lips slid over hers. Emily seemed stunned for a moment but then she responded just as passionately, wrapping her arms around Hotch's neck. Neither of them ever thought they'd get to this moment but here they were, standing in the middle of the parking lot wrapped up in each other's arms as they kissed. They didn't care that at any moment another member of the team could walk outside or that it was still freezing outside. All they cared about was that moment.

"I can't believe it's taken us this long to do that." Hotch laughed gently, brushing Emily's hair out of her face as he slowly pulled away from the kiss.

"Me either." Emily giggled, letting her forehead rest against his. She could feel his breath fanning over her lips and she wanted to kiss him again, she wanted to kiss him forever now that she finally could. "Does this mean you're finally going to take me to dinner?"

"Yes." Hotch nodded smiling down at her. "Absolutely."

Tag list: @marauder-level-chaos

[quietlyimplode]

Clint/Nat. (970 words)

There’s some telltale signs that Natasha isn’t coping.

Warnings for anxiety - based loosely on this prompt.

.

The house is quiet.

Clint puts his bag down on the table, and looks around for any telltale sign that Natasha is here. She said she would be.

The house is clean.

They’d both left on the same day. Her mission was shorter, a retrieval of information that should have only taken a day or so. His, however was protection detail. A full week he’d had to stay alongside a Marine, set for a deposition against the government.

She’s obviously been here. This is not how they left their house. There were clothes everywhere, dust in the corners and things not in their place. They’d laughed about it as they’d both left and he’d locked the door behind her.

Now.

Now it looks like someone had been through and cleaned everything within an inch of it’s life.

The house is cold.

If she was here, he’s sure it would be warm.

He calls her phone and it rings on the kitchen table, he hangs up and picks it up, concern curling in his stomach.

There’s no movement.

He climbs up the stairs towards the bedroom, hoping she’s in there. He doesn’t say anything in case she’s asleep.

Surely.

That’s it.

If she’s asleep, it accounts for the cold, quiet house.

He opens the door slowly, the is bed made.

He scans the room and sees her.

She’s watching him; blanket over her lap, sitting on the floor against the wall.

“Hey.” He approaches her slowly.

“Hey,” she gives him a smile. It’s genuine and he smiles with her.

“Why are on the floor?” he asks quietly.

“I..” she starts to say one thing, but changes her mind, “headache,” she decides on.

He knows that’s not the extent of it. She would probably have just taken painkillers and gone to bed if that was the case. This looks more like she hasn’t slept in a couple of days and the brain worms have got her in a holding pattern.

He holds his hand for her to stand up, but she shakes her head.

“Feels better down here.” She tells him.

He sinks down next to her and she rests her head on his shoulder.

“Do you want something for it?” He asks, grasping her hand and bringing it to his lips.

There’s a beat.

“It’s not my head.” She admits.

He stays quiet, hoping she’ll elaborate. He traces patterns on her palm. He holds two fingers on her pulse and feels it beating fast. Looking at her, she looks calm, rested. Inside though, tells a different story.

“What is it?” He prompts. She takes a breath and blows it out, perhaps unsure what to say or even how to describe it.

“I…” she stops again. He keeps his fingers on her pulse point.

“It’s becoming hard.” She begins. She sits upright, ramrod straight bad, ”being around people.”

He nods. He gets it.

A lifetime of being around people, of others controlling her every movement, of the anxiety of having to observe and know the intentions of every single person around her.

It’s a wonder that she’s as social as she is. He gets her introversion, craves it for her at times as he’s often watched her push through at the expense of herself.

Her pulse jumps at the confession and he starts drawing circles on the back of her hand again.

“You didn’t tell me it was getting bad again.” He says softly.

“It’s… it’s just, I need time to decompress afterwards and it seems to be getting longer to come back down.” Her breath hitches as she admits it quietly, to herself more than he.

Clint knows what that’s like.

“I don’t know how to make it better.” She tells him, eyes wide staring up at him.

Her breath seems to catch and she coughs. She’s missed a breath and panics on the loss.

“Lay down,” he tells her, seeing the beginnings of a panic attack. If he can get her head below her heart, maybe he can stop it.

Natasha follows the instruction, dropping her body and curling into a ball. There’s enough space behind her that Clint is able to hold her and fit his body around her, holding her loosely.

“It’s going to be ok.” He whispers in her ear. And repeats it so she hears.

It makes sense to him, the clean house, the neglect of warmth and probably food, not wanting the comfort of bed. She’s put herself at odds.

“It’s going to be ok.” She says back to him, reassuring herself.

“Clint?” She asks.

He hums, changing his position to make her hands grab his wrists, making sure she can feel his slow pulse.

“Please don’t go.” She asks holding on hard.

He kisses her neck and whispers assurances.

“It’s going to be ok.”

.

Morning comes and Clint wakes up on the floor alone.

His back creaks as he stands and stretches; it’s been a tricky night, staving off panic attacks.

He hears Natasha in the kitchen. The coffee maker hisses and the sound of the morning TV is playing quietly. He smiles, the house is loud.

He walks into the kitchen and hugs her hard.

The heater is on and as she hugs him back; he realises the house is warm.

They proceed to make breakfast together. It’s not better, the anxieties are still there but she’s talking and he’s taking it as a win. They talked about booking an appointment with the therapist and she’d agreed. She hasn’t shut him out, and on the contrary almost seems lighter for having made the decision.

He cracks eggs and fries them as she butters toast. They dump the dishes in the sink and eat together in front of the TV.

The house is messy.

.

One shots.