#or air turbulence! and it feels trapped and it needs to fucking go!

[feluka]

anyone else ever gets the feeling that if a doctor were to open their chest with a scalpel then some manner of Energy will be finally able to escape and all will be well again

[spookypete-94]

Up in the Air

Gaz!xGN!Reader

Have had this thought for awhile now, and really figured Gaz could use some love on this blog. Such a beautiful man and character in the series. Generally I like the rugged and rough men (daddy issues anyone?) but Gaz is just so lovely to look at.

Nerves boiling and shot, hot and bothered. Home had called and your mother was ill. Normally, you would drive back home but with your mother being sick there was urgency to get there.

That left flying. How you hated flying. This isn't your first time (more like 6th), but it sure feels just like it. There was something about the take off and the landing that terrified you. Maybe it was the turbulence, maybe it was the feeling of your organs being pushed back into the seat past your spine.

The surreal feeling had not hit you yet that you were going to have to board soon. Instead, you tried to focus on the many shops in the airport, avoiding food or drink as much as your stomach requested it. You knew you would pay for it later if you gave in.

Impending doom was the best way to describe it. Building up like a volcano, ready to erupt. Each step by step, boarding the plane. Watching your feet, like the floor could give out at any moment. This a trap, it has to be a trap. You were doing this for your mother, you had to get home to your mother.

You were fighting a battle inside. Two voices yelling at little ol' you. Still you did your best to function, stepping through the plane door. Nodding to the flight attendant with a crooked smile, pushing through this.

Placing baggage in the up above cubby, you sat in your seat and looked down at the floor, thumbs twiddling together. You never noticed that the seat next to you was soon filled. You just needed to focus on yourself. The flight attendant's voice not loud enough to drown any of your worries out as she explained what to do if the plane crashed. Better yet, just ignore her all together.

"You alright there?" A gentle and smooth voice asked next to.

Looking up, you saw a beautiful specimen of a man next to you. Tall, skin so wonderfully bronzed with toned muscles. Eyes bright in contrast with a set of full lips.

Great, just great. Not only were you now on the plane having a full panic attack, you were now on the plane having a full panic attack next to a man that looked like a Greek God.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

"Just hate flying." Your voice quiet meek, barely there.

"I understand that," he said with a smile and a sarcastic chuckle.

"I don't generally fly alone, I normally have someone with me and I can hold on to them."

Without hesitation, he lifted his arm out to you offering his bicep.

"Can hold on to me." Warm, sweet and kind.

Carefully, you took it, both hands wrapped around his arm.

"Thank you," you tried to smile at him.

"It's alright love," the hand from the arm you were holding squeezing your knee.

About halfway down the runway you heard the engines kick on, a heavy sigh leaving you while he squeezed your knee tighter.

"Its ok," he said again. Squeezing your eyes you hunched forward slightly. He adjusted using his arm to push you back into the seat worried the turbulence would be uncomfortable for you.

"You know i fell out of a helicopter one time."

Who starts off a story like that you?

"What?" you asked wanting him to repeat himself not sure you had heard him right.

"Fell out of a helicopter, was dangling from in with a rope." 'His free hand animated in a motion like you would use... you know life if you fell out of a fucking helicopter.

"Like a skydiving accident or something?" you asked trying to understand why.

Unknown he couldn't fully tell you why he limited his answer to. "Yeah, you could say that. What I'm trying to tell you, if I can fall out of a helicopter and still be alive, I'm going to make sure you live through this flight... alright?"

It made you laugh slightly, smiling and and nod back to him.

"Ok... Thank you...?" you said in a way asking for his name.

"Kyle."

"Thank you, Kyle."

The entire conversation had distracted you long enough to get up into the air without realizing it until you looked out the window. The city underneath you and clouds beside you.

"Can you shut the shade for me? I don't like looking out the window."

You shut the window upon his request, understanding why he would ask such a thing. Where is the irony of two people afraid of flying sitting next to each other on a plane? Better yet, what are the odds of them helping each other?

Masterlist

[goldenraeofsun]

Day 26: Hum

The hum of the airplane rattles Dean down to his very bones, and his heart is about to jackrabbit out of his chest. With shaking hands, he unscrews the fun size bottle of whiskey he brought from the duty-free store by the gate and swigs back a hearty shot.

It does nothing.

Well, nothing except make his blue-eyed seatmate shoot him a look of alarm. After a beat his neighbor asks tentatively, “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Dean grunts.

The plane jolts, and Dean whimpers. Jesus Christ, how long does it take to taxi to the runway? The airport’s only so big for crying out loud.

“Are you sure?” his neighbor asks.

Dean nods and takes another swig of alcohol. “I’m fine,” he repeats quickly. “Other than the fact that I’m stuck in a flying metal tube for the next two hours unless it plummets to Earth in a fiery ball of scrap metal before we land.”

His neighbor squints at him. “That is… extremely unlikely.”

Dean just shrugs and takes another swig of his bottle, now pitifully half-empty.

“I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but flying is statistically the safest way to travel.”

“Thanks, Supes,” Dean says bitterly.

“But I know phobias aren’t always rational,” his neighbor acknowledges, “but I would feel remiss if I didn’t mention it.”

The plane’s engines go from a hum to a blood-chilling roar as they take off down the runway.

Dean’s hands fly to the armrest, bearing down with all his strength. “Son of a bitch, why did I ever think this was a good idea?” he mutters to himself. “I have no fucking clue what I’m doing. I shouldn’t even be in this goddamn death trap.”

The plane takes off into the air, and Dean knocks back the rest of his whiskey. Every groan and creak from the cabin gives Dean a mini heart attack. He’s breathing too fast, and the whiskey threatens to come back up several times as they climb farther and farther away from the safety of the ground.

“If people were meant to fly, we would’ve been given fucking wings,” Dean hisses, squeezing his eyes shut. “No, we were meant to stay on planet Earth. Traveling like this is … unnatural.”

“It’s more a matter of aerodynamics than a facet of the supernatural,” his neighbor cuts through his rambling monologue.

Eyes still closed like he can pretend he’s not a thousand feet up in the air, Dean shakes his head. “Not helping.”

“My apologies. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Dean opens his eyes, more than a little surprised at the sincerity written all over his neighbor’s face. “No.”

“Attention passengers, we have reached cruising altitude. You are free to move about the cabin.”

“Thank god.” Dean breathes out heavily through his mouth, but the exhale doesn’t do much to suppress the low thrum of panic still running through his veins. He flexes his fingers, pulling his right arm back from the armrest. “Sorry,” he mutters to his seat neighbor. “Didn’t mean to hog it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” his neighbor says with a warm smile. “You needed it more than I did.”

“Still,” Dean grunts. He cranes his neck. “Where’s the booze cart?”

“Usually they wait a few minutes to let people stretch their legs first,” his neighbor says, “or go to the bathroom.”

“Huh,” Dean leans back in his seat. “You fly often?”

“Not often enough,” he says to Dean’s complete confusion. How could someone want more of this? “I love traveling.”

“I see,” Dean says because he’s not about to tell a complete stranger he’s a Cuckoo’s Nest of Cocoa Puffs.

“It’s not for everyone,” his neighbor says with a slight dip of his head. “But I –” he breaks off as the plane lurches mid-air.

The bottom drops out of Dean’s stomach.

“Attention passengers, we’re hitting a bad bout of turbulence so the captain has turned the fasten seat belt sign on. Please return to your seats.”

Dean’s stomach flies back up into his throat as the plane starts fucking falling, and it’s like Dean’s stuck on a hellish roller coaster made only of death-complying drops. “We’re gonna die,” he moans. 

“I don’t think –”

“The last thing I said to Sammy was, ‘see ya on the other side, bitch’,” he plows on. “I didn’t mean it literally!”

“I really doubt –”

“At least he’ll be alright without his big brother,” Dean babbles, “he’s gonna be a hot shot lawyer, and I’m gonna be a smear on the ground. I hope he knows I’m proud of him.”

“I’m sure he kn –”

“’Cause we’re not going to make it, and I’m never even gonna have a chance at that stupid job I’m not even qualified for. I mean, who the hell would employ a high school dropout with only a GED and a give ’em hell attitude?” he says, his voice rising in pitch. “Nobody, that’s who!”

“That seems un –”

“I mean, do I look like a fucking secretary? Sorry, executive assistant,” he makes a pfft noise with his mouth. “No sir. No siree.” God, he sounds drunk – or like he’s about to cry. “Sammy says I can do it, but, fuck, he’s family. He organized this whole interview; of course he’s gonna say that. He’s always thought I was better than I am. But that’s just how kids view their parent figures, right? I thought the sun shone outta my dad’s ass until he up and left us.”

Alarmed, his neighbor just gapes at him.

The plane shudders and unleashes another torrent of words from Dean’s mouth. His last will and testament – or confession? – before he meets his maker.

“What a goddamn cliche,” Dean rambles, “leaving for a pack of smokes – fucking smokes, can you believe it? – and just never coming back. At least Sammy was a good kid. He practically raised himself after that.”

Something deep in the belly of the plane makes a horrible scraping noise, and this is it. This is the end.

“I did my best though,” he adds fervently, “I helped him with his homework, drove him to dances and SAT classes, made sure all the bills got paid on time so Sammy had a roof over his head, electricity, gas, and running water.”

“Very admirable of you,” his neighbor says faintly.

“I even sweet talked one teacher into writing his college recommendation after Sammy forgot the application deadline. Shit, she was a hard ass, but Sammy loved Mrs. Mosely, so I wasn’t gonna let one mistake set him back. I had to change her oil for free, but it got Sammy into Stanford with a full ride, so I’m not complaining.”

“I think that’s the textbook definition of comp –”

“Attention passengers, we seem to be through the worst of the turbulence, so the captain will turn off the fasten seatbelt sign in a minute. When seated, please keep your seatbelt on and enjoy the rest of the flight.”

Dean snaps his jaw shut, his face heating to a temperature only known to Mount Doom. 

His neighbor opens his mouth to say something, but Dean just shakes his head and turns away to flag down a flight attendant. That booze cart has his goddamn name on it.

Two hours and change later, Sammy meets him at the arrivals gate, smirking. “How was the flight?” he asks as they make their way to the exit.

“Shut up. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Sam chuckles. “That bad?”

“We hit turbulence five minutes in.”

“Damn,” Sam says sympathetically. “But at least Castiel is excited to meet you.”

“Yippee.”

* * *

Sammy drops off Dean at Castiel Novak’s office in some horrible reverse parody of the first day of school. As he gets out of the car, Dean half-expects Sam to hand him a bag lunch and tell him to play nice with the other kids. But Sam just lets him go with a grin and a wave.

Dean gives his name at the welcome desk and gets a visitor’s pass and directions to the fourth floor.

He spends the short elevator ride fiddling with the cuffs of his blazer and adjusting his tie.

All too soon, the doors open, and Dean steps out only to stop dead in his tracks.

“Hello, Dean,” says his seatmate from his flight-from-hell. He takes a step closer and holds out his hand. “I don’t believe we ever traded formal introductions. I’m Castiel Novak.”

For the second time in two days, the bottom drops out of Dean’s stomach.

Read the sequel here!

[casspurrjoybell-27]

Claimed by the Beast - Chapter 47

*Warning Adult Content*

Mind Made Up

Everett can do nothing but watch.

He watches in frustration and full-blown alarm as one of the policemen moves Knox's truck off to the side and away from the pump.

He then climbs back into the cruiser with his partner, Knox trapped like a wild animal in its steel embrace and they drive away.

The crowd disperses, the drama over and Everett makes a dash toward Knox's truck.

"They're gone."

He clenches the cell-phone in his hand, having given Gavin a play-by-play.

"But they left the key to the truck behind. What do you want me to do?"

"Alright, listen," Gavin replies, his voice steady.

"If they had a warrant to search it, they wouldn't have left the truck behind, so they probably took Knox in on some bullshit. It's all scare tactics. I'm texting the club lawyer as we speak."

"What kind of bullshit?" Everett asks before thinking.

By now, he should know better than to ask questions that won't be answered.

"Club business. I can't tell you, kid. I'm sorry," Gavin says.

"Do you want me to send Finn out to pick up the truck or are you comfortable driving it back? I'll make sure Mason scrubs the cameras out there. Your involvement won't be documented."

Everett takes a deep breath.

Driving the truck back is a risk but he feels a sense of responsibility to Knox.

"I can drive it back," he replies.

"I can do it."

"I'm sending Finn out anyway. Don't want you to be alone right now," Gavin assures him before ending the call.

Everett pockets his cell-phone and climbs into the driver's seat, the keys dangling from the ignition.

He closes his eyes and takes a moment to inhale deeply, the scent of Knox's cologne lingering in the air like a distant memory.

He starts the engine seconds later, both hands trembling as he grips the steering wheel and navigates the truck out of the gas station.

He tries to ignore the regret swirling in his stomach.

He's been acting like a total dick since their long-distance conversation.

His concerns are valid but had he known Knox would get snatched up by the police today, perhaps he would've handled his emotions a little better.

No matter, his nerves are officially shot now.

The tension in his body makes every bump and pothole on the road feel amplified.

He can't stop looking in the rear view mirror, thinking that he's being followed during the whole drive back to the clubhouse.

He doesn't truly calm down until he spots Finn on his motorcycle halfway into the drive.

They ride back together, Everett leading the way while Finn takes on the job of scanning the road for any of their enemies.

As they eventually pass through the gate of the clubhouse, Everett brings the truck to a stop and hops out, his legs feeling slightly unsteady.

He turns to Finn.

"Be real with me for five seconds," he says.

"Fuck club business. How much trouble is Knox really in?"

"Look, the pigs love fucking with us, kid."

Finn's expression is guarded, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

"But we're careful in everything that we do, so there's really no need to worry..."

"Oh. My. God. Do I have to be initiated in or whatever the fuck for you people to just tell me a little bit of what's really going on here?" Everett snaps.

"Everett. Chill."

Finn places a hand on his shoulder and much to his surprise, Everett doesn't shrug it off.

"Without any hard evidence for... whatever it is that they think Knox did, the longest they can hold him is 48 hours. We just have to wait it out, man," his words amount to a whole lot of nothing but arguing with Finn isn't going to bring Knox back, so Everett has no choice but to drop it.

He nods, lips pressed into a tight line and he grabs the grocery bags from the backseat.

With Finn by his side, they head into the busy clubhouse.

Bear greets Everett in the kitchen.

The dog's presence is a brief distraction from his turbulent thoughts.

He kneels to accept the affectionate nuzzles and licks.

"I missed you too."

Burying his face in Bear's soft fur, Everett apologizes for his absence.

"You're probably wondering where your other Daddy is, aren't you?"

As if to answer his question, the dog whines in response.

But the moment is quickly ruined by the ping of his cell-phone, signaling a new text.

Everett pulls it out, his brow furrowing as he sees its from an unknown number.

His heart nearly stops as he reads the message: You have 24 hrs to deliver the USB. Come alone to the attached address. If you don't, there's gonna be more dead bodies.

Everett's stomach churns, bile rising in his throat.

Before he can shout for Gavin, two more pings signal the arrival of picture messages.

With trembling fingers, he opens the first image, eyes widening in horror as he sees his father's house.

The blinds are open on the living room windows, revealing his father eating in the kitchen alone, oblivious to the danger lurking nearby.

The next picture message is even more chilling.

The lifeless bodies of the two Fallen Angels members who were keeping guard at his parents' house stare back at him from the inside of someone's trunk, their eyes vacant and faces battered.

Everett's vision blurs, the room spinning around him as he rushes to the kitchen trash can and retches violently, his body shaking with each burning heave.

Bear whines beside him repeatedly and the chattering in the room stops abruptly.

He can feel all eyes on him as Finn walks over to place his hand on his lower back, his voice a low whisper when he speaks.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Stupid fucking question, isn't it?"

Everett straightens and wipes his mouth with the hem of his shirt, his mind racing with thoughts that don't feel right.

Without another word, he rushes out of the kitchen, Bear's loyal footsteps trailing behind him.

They head upstairs and enter Knox's bedroom, Everett shutting the door behind them.

His heart is heavy and throbbing as he paces the floor.

The thought of betraying The Fallen Angels, of stealing the USB drive after everything they've done for him, makes it feel like a million explosions are going off in his head.

In truth, however, the choice he needs to make is quite simple.

The Jackals are already at his house and will presumably stay until he hands over the USB.

Even if he tells Gavin about the threats, The Fallen Angels won't be able to reach his father in time.

The Jackals will definitely shoot to kill before anyone can sneak up for the rescue.

'Don't leave the clubhouse. Stay where you are, kitten. Let my brothers handle this. You trust us, right?' he can almost hear Knox's voice, firm and protective, telling him to stay put.

Too bad Knox isn't physically here right now.

The tables have turned drastically and it's up to Everett to take action, to make a move that may cost him everything... even his own life... for the sake of his father.

Even as his emotions threaten to overwhelm him, he knows exactly what he must do.

So he takes another look around the bedroom, committing every detail to memory before finding a notepad and pen to scribble down a short message for Knox.

His mind is made up.

Everett is going to steal back the USB.

[keulixeutin]

Breathless

a/n: my plane experience didn’t quite go like this.  would’ve been nice, though.  hope it makes sense, and hope y’all enjoy!  summary: a stranger helps ground you when you feel trapped on a plane. bakugou x reader.  she/her pronouns.  cw: claustrophobia attack, panic attack, anxiety, nausea (no vomiting), fluff, just bakugou doing the best he can. au, but no powers are mentioned so u can pretend its canon if u want lol.  word count: 4,258 words

You jerked awake, suddenly feeling odd.  

There was something—off.  

You didn’t feel right, but you couldn’t pick up on the reason why.  There was an uncomfortable sense of dread growing in the pit of your stomach, spreading throughout the rest of your body. Your hands were clammy; your skin felt sensitive; you were jittery in ways you hadn’t been before, and you couldn’t put a finger on why.

You looked around the plane.  It was dark; most of the passengers had their window shutters closed against the blinding afternoon light.  Many of them were dozed off, too.  You wondered if anyone else felt this—unnerved.

You were sitting in the back of the large plane, sandwiched tightly between the window and the man beside you.  You felt more cramped than you remember feeling in previous plane rides.  You normally handled them well, so what was happening now?  Was this plane somehow more narrow than others?  Was it more narrow in the back?  Did this man with his wild hair and impossibly wide shoulders really have to put his elbow so far across the arm rest into your space?

No, no, that wasn’t fair.  It was tight for everyone.  This uncomfortable feeling—you just needed to stretch.  Just need to shift a little, like a cat circling a spot three times before settling down to sleep.

You straightened your back, trying to soothe out the knots and kinks and pop it.  It didn’t work, didn’t pop and didn’t help.  The odd feeling lingered—intensifying even—no.  No, it wasn’t intensifying, because intensifying would be bad.  It was just there.  It was just uncomfortable.  Disagreeable—yes.  That was a good word, a calm and collected word, a not-too-negative word to describe your situation.  Once you found an agreeable position, you would easily fall back to sleep and bypass the last couple hours, you thought to yourself. 

Optimistic, you leaned against the window.

Then, you leaned back into the chair, folding your arms, hyper aware of his elbow still past the invisible line.

Then, you unlocked the table from the seat in front of you to try and rest your head on it, but you realized that there wasn’t much space for you to curl your back, so you pushed it back up, locked it, and sat, staring at the seat in front of you that began to recline back, toward you.

It was so tight here.  So confined.  You felt restricted.  You felt—

—Trapped.

You felt trapped.

As soon as that thought crossed your mind, you clearly felt the weighted dread on your chest, the difficulty swallowing, the starting heat.

It was a lack of air.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

It wasn’t discomfort; it wasn’t disagreeable.  It was suffocating.  

You couldn’t breathe.

Instead of finding a comfortable position, you found that you were possibly—probably—very definitely having a claustrophobia attack.  

You felt yourself starting to panic.  This was new to you.  You usually flew so easily; sometimes, it got tight, but you never felt stuck.  Sometimes you ached, but you never felt nauseous.  

You closed your eyes, imagining that you were in a car driving through grassy plains, imagining beautiful wildflowers of all types of colors.  The sun was bright, as bright as the tall sunflowers that greeted you as you stared out the passenger window.  

Okay, okay, you thought.  This was doable.  You could do this.  You could manage two (and a half) more hours doing this.

The plane shifted suddenly—slight turbulence—and that was all your brain needed to go into overdrive.  The grassy plains in your imagination suddenly got taller, bigger, growing wildly to eclipse the flowers, the sky, the path, boxing you in, trapping your car—and then the car suddenly wasn’t a car, but a metal box getting smaller and smaller and darker and tighter and—

Your eyes shot open, breaths coming out in short, tiny pants.

You were dangerously hyperaware of all movement and spacing around you, how everyone seemed to take up so much space, how they seemed to take up so much of your space, the elbow crossing the arm rest, the reclining seat in front of you, the child accidentally kicking the back of your chair.  Your nausea was building, your chest was burning, your vision was darkening—shit, shit, shit, what were you going to do—what were you going to do?

“Hey.  You alright?”

You turned to the man beside you, the one whose elbow was two centimeters too far over the invisible line, and logically you knew that it was illogical, but with the way your breaths came out shallow and desperate, with the way your heart was trying to claw its way out of the heat behind your diaphragm as though there were a fire starting behind your ribs, under your skin, it only seemed right and helpful and sane to blame him.

He seemed to see something on your face.  His red eyes narrowed at you.  Maybe he saw the terror.  Maybe he saw the flames.

“I have to get up,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite your intense need to double over and cry and throw up and pass out, in whatever order gave you the most relief.  “Please.  Please, I n-need to get up.”

Without hesitation, the stranger woke up the woman in the aisle seat.  Instead of stand up, she stayed seated, twisting her body and moving her legs to the side, expecting the two of you to squeeze through, but the man hissed out an aggravated, “Move your ass, lady!”  She scrambled to her feet with a huff.

You all but fell into the aisle, feet trying to find ground beneath you, but you were furiously aware that nothing was solid ground, that you were in the sky in a metal bin, and it wasn’t the fall that frightened you but the walls, how they wouldn’t expand, and the people, how they could only expand, only take up more space, more oxygen.  

So close to the back of the plane, your eyes caught the back room where the flight attendants sat.  It was empty, though,  so you quickly rushed to the back, trying not to frighten people with your heaving so loud in your ear as you gripped the wall and turned the corner, slowly falling to your knees.

You swallowed a gasping breath—one, two, then another, more.  The darkness that had been dotting your vision was fading.  The space here wasn’t much; you wouldn’t be able to stretch out your legs without leaning against the emergency exit (which you absolutely weren’t going to do), but the fact that you weren’t pressed up against a hard shoulder and a shuttered window was already relieving some weight off your shoulders, extinguishing some of the flames from your chest.

“You need water?”  Same gruff voice—same gruff scowl.

He was crouched in the aisle, peering at you from the entrance.  You were vaguely aware that, though he couldn’t tell his elbow had been encroaching your space, he was mindful of not crowding you here and not hovering over you with his size and height.

You nodded.  He disappeared.  You hazily remembered the flight attendants were pushing their drink cart at the front of the plane.  When he came back, he handed you a cup and sat down on the other side of the little space, legs tucked against his chest.

“Thanks,” you said.  The nausea was still bubbling in your stomach; you didn’t want to give it fuel, so you took tiny sips.  “Y-you can go back,” you told him.  “I should be okay now.”

“It’s fine—I’ll stay.”  He was still scowling, eyebrows furrowed in sharp, angry angles, but there had been a softness in the red of his eyes when he had seen you gasping beside him, when you had asked him to let you through.  “Lean back and keep your chest open,” he said.  “Stop hunching.”  

You slowly adjusted your posture. 

“Good.  Fix your breathing; you’re on the fucking verge of hyperventilating.  In through your nose and out through your mouth to slow down.  Three or four counts.  Whatever you can manage.”

You didn’t realize that you had still been gasping for air.  The initial panic had subsided as soon as you sat down in this open space (open being extremely relative), but you could still feel the anxiousness on the edge of your skin, as though it were lingering smoke, or embers ready to reignite. 

You crossed your legs, tilted your head back, and rested your hands on your knees to ensure that your shoulders didn’t shift back into a cowering hunch.  You closed your eyes, counted three as you inhaled through your nose, counting again as you exhaled through your mouth.

“Good,” you heard him say again.

Good, you thought.

In—out.

In—out.

In—

The plane shook suddenly.  It wasn’t an abnormal shake, just a small, tiny piece of turbulence that was to be expected at that height, but in your delicate and frazzled state, it felt as though you were minutes from the door and ceiling collapsing on top of you, seconds from your breath being taken away.  

You choked out a gasp—

“You’re fine.”  

No, he couldn’t know that, he—

“Hey—look at me.”  

You felt a grip on your left hand that rested on your knee.  You opened your eyes; he was glaring at you—no, he was looking.  Brows sharp.  Angular.  Crimson eyes fierce—intense—but not knife-like.  Not jagged.  Not cruel.

“It’s mild turbulence,” he said.  He squeezed your hand once.

You swallowed a nervous lump.  Your mouth was dry.  Your throat hurt.

“I’m telling you, you’re fine.  You need to keep breathing,” he said, then adding, “slowly,” as though you had forgotten (how could you forget?).

You tilted your head back.  

“Come on—inhale, one…two…three…four… Good.”  

Good, you thought.

“Again—one, two, three, four.  That’s it.”

He squeezed your hand a second time.

He was—odd.  And fucking rude.  You thought people were supposed to be more compassionate in these situations, empathy coloring all their movements, expressions, and voices, but this stranger was sharp, brusque, all angles and hard lines.  

And yet—there was an unusual and unexpected sense of reassurance in his terse honesty, in the tight grip of his hand, in the callouses that brushed against your knuckles every time he shifted and squeezed.  There was an inexplicable comfort in his curtness, in his hard angles, like you could touch him and your fingers wouldn’t sink; and there was something pleasant about holding someone and knowing that they had a weight to them, a structure, a frame that wouldn’t bend or break or flatten.  You felt like you could trust him to tell you without falsities or sweetness whether the plane was landing safely or exploding wildly.  You felt like he’d find space for you in his diaphragm in the fire, in the fall, like he’d give you the air from his own lungs if that was what it took.  You didn’t know why you thought this, or what about him said this, but you held onto that thought with clenched hands and clenched jaws.

It helped you settle against the makeshift wall behind you, made of the flight attendant’s folded seat.  There was still a curling ball in the pit of your stomach, but at least the air was coming in deep and leaving slow, unobstructed.

“How do you feel?” he asked; a question that was normally laced with concern was colored coarse.

“Better,” you answered quietly.

You felt a tender loss as he released his hand and shifted back to his end.  A silence settled between the two of you as you both listened to your breathing.

After a few minutes, he asked, “This happen often?”

You shook your head.

“No medication then?  Sedative, anti-anxiety?’

“No,” you said, shaking your head again.  “This is the first time.”  You would’ve laughed incredulously if you didn’t feel like every energy was being used to keep your chest open and not on fire.

You thought back to the past several weeks, leading up to this trip to visit your friends on the coast.  You thought about the stress from work, the deadlines you couldn’t miss and the projects you couldn’t disregard, your calendar piled on and crammed with events and hang-outs to try and please everyone’s desire to see you, the way you forced yourself to clean the apartment at 1 AM because you couldn’t stand the mess, and then sleep at 3 AM because you had to decompress, and then wake at 7 AM to shower and get dressed, starting all over again.  All of it finally caught up with you in the tiny back of this tremendous plane.

The flight attendant suddenly peered in.  “Is everything okay?”  she asked, looking between you and the stranger.  Her frown seemed to imply that she had initially thought something lewd was happening, but then she noted that you were sitting separately and still straining to keep from boiling over.  Her frown softened.  “Are you okay to go back to your seats?   You can’t really be back here, and the seatbelt light is on.  I can get you more water if needed, ma’am.”

Before any type of panic could bubble in your chest, before the words even had the time to linger in the air with her breath, the frenzy-haired and red-eyed stranger interrupted, saying, “She’s trying to catch her breath.  Give us ten minutes and then we’ll head back."

The flight attendant looked hesitant, but another look at you made her acquiesce.  “I’m sorry.  I can only give you five minutes; we’re almost done passing out drinks and the cart has to come back here, okay?” she said.  Then, turning to you, she asked, “Do you want more water?” 

What you wanted was for her to give you a break.

“No,” he said.

She looked to him, maybe confused as to why he was answering, maybe concerned as to why he was so rough, but she didn’t say anything else and disappeared down the aisle.  You relaxed the best you could against the hard wall, grateful for his gruffness, and murmured your thanks.

“It’s whatever.”

You sat back in silence, focusing on breathing.  You didn’t try to imagine anything.  You just counted.  You almost asked to hold his hand again, but then the flight attendant came back too soon and you were forced to get up.

The walk back to your seat was painful, each step rekindling the embers in your chest.  You took your seat, feeling the dread as a lump in your throat that, when you swallowed, sat in your stomach with a gravity you didn’t think you could keep contained.

“Hey,” the stranger said, catching your attention.  “You got anything to keep occupied?  Fidget spinner?  Games?”

You shook your head hesitantly, feeling small, feeling stuck, feeling tr—

“Focus on me, dumbass.  No games?  No portable consoles?  Like a DS?”

You sighed shakily, trying to focus your unfocusing eyes.  “I know what consoles are. I brought a book and my laptop, and I promise you, I will upchuck if I read right now.”

“Tch.”

He pulled his dark red backpack out from under the seat and rifled through it.  He took out a Nintendo Switch, turned it on, and shoved it into your hands.

“Here.  Play,” he ordered.  He didn’t explain the rules, just plugged in the earbuds, tucked both into your ears, skipped the wordy intro, and then watched you maneuver your character and die.  A lot.  He swore a lot, too, and you found that listening to his harsh mutterings was better than listening to the game’s soundtrack.  You tugged the earbuds off, letting yourself be distracted by his game and his voice.

You felt okay for a moment, whispering back to him—

“This is hard.”

“You’re just ass at it.”

—thinking that you could spend the rest of the flight like this, not relaxed but just okay.

And then the plane shuddered and your stomach clenched and your vision was wobbly, and he was too close to you, the game was too much in your hands, just another thing taking space, and you had to drop it into your lap or you were going to be so nauseous.  You gripped onto the seat in front of you, aware that you were encroaching on the passenger’s space but not finding it in you to care.  You fought the desperate urge to clamber out of your seat and crawl toward the back, quickly forgetting why you even needed to fight it.

“Chest open.”

You were vaguely aware that you were nodding, vaguely aware that he had shifted back from you as far as the seats would allow, even to the point where he was invading the aisle woman’s space, but it didn’t seem like he cared either.

“Keep the count,” he told you.  “You want to sit in the bathroom?”

You shook your head.

“Then you gotta sit fucking straighter than that.”  There was no fire behind his words.  You wondered if swearing was just part of his everyday vocabulary.  He gently grasped your shoulder, touched your back, helped you sit up with your chest up and shoulders back.  You closed your eyes, counting, counting, breathing.  

It felt like there was a blazing in your chest, like something ready to ignite, something trying to—and it felt like you were trying to cover it with just your body, just your small diaphragm, just the little bones of your ribs.  How could so much heaviness, so much fire, fit behind the smallest bones, you wondered.

He must’ve noticed you squeezing your knees, because you felt his hard hand grasp the back of your soft knuckles.  Another hand gently massaged the back of your neck.

“You’re alright,” he said.  “You’ll be fine.  Keep breathing.”  His hand dipped to your shoulders, moved up and down your back, heavy fingers pressing against knotted muscle, blunt nails scratching at clammy, stiff skin.  “Good?” he asked.

You nodded, appreciative of the touch, of a different type of pressure on your body.  Good.

“Focus on my voice.  Just keep breathing.”

“—W-why—” you gasped out softly.

“Why keep breathing?”  He looked like he was restraining himself from yelling.  There was a pulsing vein in his forehead, visible even in the dim light, that would’ve made you smile, that would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so busy trying to rework your lungs.

“No—why h-help?”

He frowned.  “Why the fuck wouldn’t I?”

What a bizarre response, you thought.  What a perfect one, for someone whose scowl didn’t quite match his red eyes.

You flipped your palm over, interlaced your fingers through his, and held tightly.  His thumb rubbed circles into the back of your hand.  The callouses right beneath his fingers were dry and cutting.  His hand and hold felt honest.  He murmured encouragingly, the same few lines in the same low tone, choppy and curt, on repeat like he didn’t know what else to say.  His hand on your back was similar.  Sometimes he massaged too hard; sometimes he scratched too light. A clumsy and sweet effort.

You closed your eyes, fighting the mismatched breathing, counting your breaths, counting the seconds, and then counting the circles he drew against your skin and the times he gripped your shoulder, the hold slowly grounding you.

You were on the edge—but you were tied to a lifeline.  Your toes hovered over the black space right past the threshold, but you wouldn’t fall—you wouldn’t fall—you wouldn’t fall.  You weren’t comfortable—but you were okay.

You leaned against the shuttered window, and fell into a light and jerky sleep.  Whenever you felt yourself fall too deep, though, you were wracked with an immediate and sudden fear.  You’d shoot awake, panting, gasping, but he’d squeeze your hand tight, murmuring the same comforting and clumsy words until you settled down—“In through your nose, idiot.  How many times I gotta tell ya?  Good, good, just like that.”

Good, you thought.

It was the same pattern every five, maybe ten minutes.  You didn’t fall asleep for long, the nerves always working you up to a dreadful jerk awake, even if there wasn’t any turbulence.  But he squeezed your hand every time, with a scowl that didn’t meet his eyes, and he’d repeat the words again and again, like a chorus, like a mantra, like a prayer, one you held onto fiercely as you hovered over the edge for the rest of the flight.

&&

The jostling of the plane landing was what woke you up next.  Rather than a panicked gasp, your eyes fluttered open, feeling an ache in your neck and a weight on your head.  The seat before you was crooked—no, you were crooked.  Your head was tilted, resting on the stranger’s shoulders—and his head was rested on yours.   In your lap was his Switch—and the both of your hands, still intertwined.

You smiled and took in a deep and unimpeded breath of stale plane air.

You touched his shoulder tenderly.  “Wake up,” you said.

“Shut up,” he muttered.

“We’ve landed,” you said, pulling your fingers out of his warm hold and watching how his hand twitched in your direction, as if chasing your grasp.

He sat up, eyes groggy.  He tried to stretch his arms, immediately hitting the top of the aircraft cabin with an annoyed growl.  You wondered if he ever had claustrophobia attacks.  His frame was so large; how could he move through this world without feeling enclosed, encaged in every room he stepped in?

He caught your eyes staring.

“You good?” he asked, voice surly and shaded with sleep still.

“Good,” you said.  “Thanks to you.”

You watched everyone get up before you, thinking that it’d be easier to let the fast-paced crowd hasten toward the exit first.  The man sat with you; you shouldn’t have been surprised, but you were.  He seemed like the go-go-go type.

When it was finally your turn, the stranger stepped out, slung his backpack over his shoulders, and grabbed his black suitcase from the overhead compartments. 

“Which one’s yours?” he asked.

You pointed to the dark mauve, plastic one behind him.

Without another word, he pulled it out and set it down; his biceps flexed under the weight.  He let you leave first with your backpack over your shoulders and his Switch against your chest, with him following behind, easily rolling both suitcases down the aisle.

When the two of you exited the gate, you pulled off to the side, relieved to be back on solid ground—but a little disappointed, you found, to be leaving him.

“I really appreciate everything,” you said, giving back his Switch.  “I don’t even know how to truly thank you.”

“It’s fine.  Don’t mention it.”  He was gruff, he was scowling—and he was soft.  You could see it clearly in his eyes.  Now that you were out of the dim plane cabin, you could see how his brows had imperceptibly straightened, how his eyes weren’t so much red but a darkened and complicated pink.

“Can I hug you?” you asked quietly, hearing your heart hammering for a variety of reasons that you were too tired to think on.

He didn’t answer, but he uncrossed his arms, holding his hands out to you, the posture as gentle as the pink in his eyes.  You stepped into his embrace eagerly, his larger body engulfing you entirely. 

His heartbeat was strong.  Steady.  Curt, like his words.  His body was all hard angles, all flexed muscles, all sturdy structure and heavy frame.  His cologne smelled faintly of spiced wood, reminding you of summer storms, electricity crackling through a vibrating air.  You took in a deep, deep breath, holding the smell behind your aching diaphragm, behind the small bones of your ribs, inside your tired lungs for as long as he held you.   

You pulled back finally. Reluctantly.

“Thanks,” you repeated, looking up at him and catching the softness in his eyes again, the only part of his body that wasn’t all sharp. 

For a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you.

You didn’t know why.  Just a feeling.  Just the way his grip tightened on your waist, the way his eyes flickered down to your lips, the way the air seemed to buzz, your body answering on your tip-toes. 

But he pulled away, dropping his hands to grab your suitcase handle.

“Got anywhere to be?” he asked.

“Not yet,” you said.  “Why?”

“You should hydrate and eat.  Come on.”

”Wait—”

“Stop complaining and let’s go.”

You smiled, touching his arm as you caught up.  “I was just going to ask your name.”

He glanced at you.  “Bakugou,” he said.  “Katsuki—just call me Katsuki.”

“Okay,” you said, breathless in a way you didn’t mind.

But he didn’t ask your name.  Instead, as you followed him down to luggage retrieval, he asked when your return flight was, and when you found that you were both on the same plane again but not in the same aisle, you saw him check the airline app for any available seats near you.  You thought that it was somehow on brand that he didn’t ask for your name.  You thought this was part of his curtness, part of his clumsiness, part of how his hands were so rough but encompassed yours so warmly, so sweetly.

[imagineaworlds]

Bunny and Baby -- Poly!BAU Team

(Edited version for a broader audience. You can check out the full version on @hotch-and-bunny)

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Dom/sub relationships, Sir kink, Mistress kink, Ma’am kink, Daddy kink, dirty talk, restraints (handcuffs), collaring, leashes, edging, orgasm control, orgasm denial, ruined orgasms, degradation, mild choking, pegging, impregnation/breeding kink, minimal in-chapter aftercare, though it is alluded to happening afterwards. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, the team refers to them as female when saying “good girl”, “princess”, etc.

Pairing: Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy) x BAU Team.

Dynamic (in order of superiority): Sir!Dom!Aaron Hotchner, Ma’am!Dom!Elle Greenaway, Mistress!Dom!Emily Prentiss, Daddy!Dom!Derek Morgan,    switch!Reader (sub in this plot), bunny!sub!Spencer Reid.

Word Count: 7645

Criminal Minds Discord Server

We had been returning from a case in Louisiana, everyone sitting comfortably in their own seats on the jet. Hotch and I were beside each other— I was pressed between him and the window— Morgan was across from us, Emily and Elle were across the aisle and a row back, and Spencer was laying on the couch. Rossi hadn’t come with us because he had a family emergency. Emily and Elle were the only ones talking while the rest of us were quietly working on our own things; but Spencer was just half asleep on the couch, trying to catch up on some rest. He told us before we boarded that he had another headache that kept him up all night, and we all scolded him for not coming to one of us and seeking help because we always knew what to do to help him. He insisted that it wasn’t a big deal, though. While I didn’t entirely believe him, we all decided to let him rest during the flight.

It wasn’t until there was a bit of turbulence that made me grab onto Hotch’s arm that things got… interesting. The thing was, when it came to Aaron Hotchner, the slightest touch could set him off, and he would get mean because he saw even the simplest of shoulder bumps as a bratty act that needed to be punished. I always had to be careful around him because of that. But I forgot. The plane jumped in the air, my stomach dropped, and before I knew it, I was squeezing his bicep to ground myself as some kind of reminder that I wasn’t going to die or something.

When the turbulence passed, I tore my hand away from Hotch, keeping in mind that I had to keep my hands to myself, but it was too late. He was staring at me. I swallowed hard and tried to go back to my book that Spencer had recommended, which was his attempt to win his favor with me after he pissed me off one day and I wanted to punish him. He was lucky that I wasn’t as mean as Hotch and Emily. Unfortunately for me, however, that meant I was completely fucked because Hotch was still sitting there, staring at me, likely asking himself how I could dare to touch him without permission, even when it was for something as innocent as it had been. I finally dared to look up at him. He was frowning.

“Sir—” I tried to explain myself quietly so that the others couldn’t hear, but he shook his head, silently telling me to stop. I fell silent and gulped.

Hotch, without saying anything, looked back down at the iPad that was sitting on the table in front of him as he was going through emails, scoping out new cases to take on; but what he did after that was somewhat unexpected. His hand closest to me drifted between my thighs. I adjusted in my seat, trying to fix my posture to be “smooth” so that no one else would notice. No one looked up. Hotch continued with his plan, forcing his hand between my thighs, spreading my legs open to give him access to what was beneath my skirt. I should have known that wearing a skirt on the jet was only going to get me in trouble, but with the case having just ended, and with Spencer’s headaches, my attire had been the last thing on my mind. To Hotch, however, it seemed to be the only thing on his mind.

“Don’t make a sound,” he whispered to me. I was surprised Morgan didn’t hear him.

When I nodded, Hotch pressed his index and middle fingers against my panties, finding the sensitive nub that was my clit, hiding behind my labia and the clitoral hood. He was too far. I needed him to press harder to actually feel his fingers, to actually get me to the edge rather than just get needy for him— but my desperation for him and what was about to come was undeniable when he slid his fingers down to hover over my core, discovering a wet spot that was slowly forming. Hotch snickered to himself. I knew that he was probably thinking to himself something along the lines of how he had only just touched me and I was already wet, proving to him that I was always thinking about having one of them— if not all of them— fuck me.

Hotch moved back up to my clit, and he pressed hard enough that I could feel him, but not enough to actually give me everything I wanted. Slowly, he started rubbing circles over my panties. A quiet sigh left my lips as I leaned back in my seat, moved my hips forward to give him better access, and I screwed my eyes shut. There was no doubt that if Morgan happened to look up, he would know exactly what was happening.

As Hotch’s fingers started moving faster, I rolled my hips eagerly to make his pace in an attempt to speed up my orgasm, but he pulled away somewhat and slowed down until I stopped moving and waited politely for him to make another move. He went back to what he was doing suddenly. I tensed and tried my very best to hold still this time while also biting my lip to keep myself from moaning. But I was so close again. So, so close. I just wanted to cum for him.

“Sir, please,” I whispered. “Please.”

“Please, may I cum?”

“Ask Mistress first.”

My eyes widened and I looked at him, but he was still reading his emails, so I looked over at Emily. She was still casually talking to Elle without a single clue as to what a mess I was while sitting next to Hotch. I shook my head. I couldn’t. I couldn’t beg like that randomly when they were all doing their own things. So, Hotch shrugged because he didn’t care one way or the other. If I wasn’t going to ask, he wasn’t going to let me cum, and for him, that was fun and it didn’t matter. But to me, it mattered. His fingers kept rolling over my clit again and again, and it was getting unbearable, it was getting torturous. So, I dared to give in.

I let out an audible moan while leaning forward to grab onto the table to hold my orgasm back, and I croaked, “Mistress—” Everyone stopped what they were doing to look over at me. There I was, clearly falling apart as Hotch’s arm was suspiciously moving in the direction that led just between my thighs. Emily was staring at me. “Mistress, please, may I cum?”

Her mouth fell agape in shock when she realized what it was that Hotch was doing and why I was asking. She looked between me and Hotch. “Have they been good?” she asked him.

“No,” he said nonchalantly.

“Then, no, you may not cum, slut,” she said to me.

I whimpered and increased my grip on the table until my knuckles were turning white. “Please! I’m not going to last!”

“You cum, you get punished,” Morgan said.

“Fuck…” I tried wiggling away from Hotch, but it was useless since I was trapped in the seat next to the window. “Please…��� I was breathless now. “Please… I can’t…”

“And what are you doing?” Elle questioned roughly, squinting at Spencer, scolding him for something I couldn’t see.

Spencer floundered and stuttered from the couch. “I— Um. Nothing, Ma’am. I’m sorry. It was nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Fuck—” I moved my hips around again with Hotch’s fingers as my orgasm suddenly washed through me, a shiver running down my spine as my toes curled in my shoes, my thighs shook against the leather seat, and my walls clenched around nothing. “Shit.” Hotch slowed his movements as I came down from my high. My eyes quickly scanned the interior of the jet, catching how they were all scowling at me, unpleased with how I had cum without any of their permission. My heart sank in my chest. “I’m sorry.”

“First, Spence starts touching himself without permission,” Elle began as she stood from her seat and started approaching the couch. I sat up a bit in my seat so that I could look over my shoulder to see Spencer sitting up somewhat now, an erection straining his pants, a small wet spot on the front from his pre-cum. “Then, you cum without our permission.” She ran her fingers through Spencer’s hair, then once she was far enough in, she curled her grip, roughly pulling at his curls to make him sit up all the way. “And the two of you still had the audacity to say that you’re sorry. I don’t think they’re actually sorry; do you, Morgan?”

“No,” he answered, also disappointed in us.

“We didn’t train brats,” she hissed, pulling at Spencer’s hair again, making him whimper.

“His headache, Elle—” Emily warned quickly.

Elle froze when she remembered, and she tried removing her grip from Spencer, suddenly aware of how she might have hurt him in her fit of anger. “I’m sorry, Spence—”

But he cut her off by gently taking her wrist and leading her touch back to his hair, encouraging to pull again. “It’s gone.”

“Don’t lie, bunny.”

“I’m not, Ma’am.”

She smirked and tugged again, bringing him to his knees. “Then the two of you have no excuse for misbehaving. Their punishment, Morgan.”

Hotch slid out of his seat and moved to the back of the jet where Emily was still sitting so that there was enough room for Morgan to stand at the same time as I did, knowing that it was better than him grabbing onto my hair, too. When we were both in the aisle, my back close to Elle’s, Morgan caught me off guard by pinching my chin roughly in between his thumb and his other four fingers. I pouted my eyes at him. I was trying to silently beg for mercy, but, of course, it didn’t work.

In fact, it made him chuckle. “Princess, you did this to yourself.”

“Daddy, I’m sorry… Please… I didn’t mean to cum.”

“Then, you should have held it like good girls do.”

“Their punishment, Derek,” Hotch reminded.

Morgan rolled his eyes because he already knew what he was doing and he hated that Hotch thought he needed to be babysat while Domming me, even though he didn’t. Morgan and I had done plenty of scenes together. As the only switch in our relationship, it was easy for me to go visit one of them when I needed to be Dommed, whereas I would go to Spencer if I needed to Dom. Each of them were unique Doms, though, and I would seek them out separately, depending on what I needed. I mean, I lived with Hotch, but he could be cruel, and sometimes, I didn’t need that. Out of all of us, Morgan was the kindest. His punishments were never harsh, and playing with him was always easy, compared to with Emily or Elle, who were on the same wavelength, both masters at torturing me with edges, ruins, forced orgasms. When I needed something light, I went to Morgan. When I needed to be completely out of control, not a single thought in my head, I went to Emily or Elle— usually both at the same time. With Hotch, he was everything that Morgan, Emily, and Elle were, but he was also the one who gave me the harshest punishments. Nipple clamps that he tugged on, floggers, plugs, being tied up and left there for an hour while he was gone, cockwarming me until he came and I didn’t. But Morgan was the one that had dictated my punishment. For cumming, he got to decide what they were going to do with me, which gave me a little bit of hope that it wouldn’t be that bad.

“Hands behind your back,” he demanded.

I did so without hesitation, and he spun me around so that he could cuff my hands together. I had a good view of Spencer and Elle now. He was on his knees in front of her, the two of them watching each other carefully— probably because she was trying to decide if he was lying about his headaches or not, and he was trying to gauge how bad his punishment would be. But she was just playing with his hair. We all loved to do that. I mean, Spencer loved it, too, which was why he did it, and it was the easiest way to ease him in and out of sub space. When I would Dom him, our sessions were usually the same. I’d go to his house to find him kneeling by the door, waiting patiently for me while wearing his cute little collar that we all picked out for him, and then he’d cook dinner for me. Sometimes, if he had been bratty, I’d sit in the living room, using him to balance platters in his hands that held my wine glass, any snacks I had, and sometimes even a book or two. If he ever dropped them, I’d punish him. If not, I’d reward him. For rewards, we’d go to his bedroom where I’d worship his cock, but never getting him close enough to the edge to actually make it 100% pleasant. I liked watching him squirm. Even when he had his best days, he knew that I wasn’t going to immediately let him cum because my favorite part about being his Dom was controlling his orgasms. As for punishments, that usually came with tying him up, flogging him sometimes, ruining his poor, little orgasms to make him whimper pathetically, and overstimulating him. I fucking loved the sounds he made during sex. Usually, I could pry them out of him with just a simple praise, but they were always so sweet when I had him tied to his bed, a plug in his ass, and I was riding every single drop out of him, never stopping even after he came inside of me.

His hair, though… One rough tug at his hair and he was immediately our bunny. For aftercare, his favorite thing was cuddling while we played with his curls. Brushing his hair, curling his strands around our fingers, gently massaging his scalp, all of those things prevented him from sub dropping, and it reassured him that he was safe with us, that we loved him, that he was going to be okay. I loved his hair. In fact, I was obsessed with it. Watching as Elle played with it and he nuzzled against her with a hypnotized, submissive smile on his face, I felt myself lighten up, too.

“Come here, bunny,” Morgan beckoned Spencer over to us. After Elle released him, he crawled around her and stopped just in front of me. “Take their skirt off.” Spencer did as he was told, reaching up for my waistband, quickly pulling my skirt down to my ankles. I helped him by stepping out of them. “Not their panties,” he warned when Spencer moved for those, too. Spencer dropped his hands to his lap. “Can you see how wet Sir made them? The mess they made from breaking the rules?”

Spencer nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Don’t be like them.”

“Spence, where’s your collar?” Elle asked, already digging through his bag that she retrieved from one of the overhead bins. I heard another one open behind me and Morgan, probably something that Hotch or Emily were looking for. “Nevermind.” She found Spencer’s collar and leash in his go-bag and brought it over to us. “Presentation.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Spencer looked up somewhat so that Elle could see where she was positioning the collar over his Adam’s apple, and then he looked down and moved his long hair out of the way so that she could clasp it together.

“Presentation,” Morgan whispered in my ear. So, that was what the other overhead bin had been. Hotch had probably gone digging for my collar, too.

The rule with me and Spencer was that we weren’t allowed to wear our collars in public because the whole point of kink was that all parties were consenting adults at all times. If someone wasn’t consenting to the scene, it had to stop immediately. The thing with wearing an obvious O-collar out and about was that the general public couldn’t consent to viewing it. Yes, it looked like a choker if you were oblivious, but it still wasn’t fair. And we didn’t like to draw attention to ourselves, anyhow. So, Spencer and I could never wear our collars in public, but we always had to bring them in our go-bags in case a situation like this arose where we were at the hotel and needed to submit, or, yes, even on the jet. This had only happened once before, though, to be fair.

When Morgan finished clasping my collar around my neck, he pushed me to my knees, my face even with Spencer’s. His breath was hot on my nose, our lips so close I could nearly taste him, but Elle tugged on his leash, pulling him back, and Morgan tugged on mine, pulling me back. We both whimpered at the feeling. “You don’t get to touch each other,” Morgan hissed. “In fact, Y/N, you don’t get to touch anyone at all.” My eyes widened and I looked up at Elle, almost as if I could read the look on her face to see how the rest of them were feeling behind me. 

She was smirking. “Bunny’s so hard…” Elle teased, pulling on Spencer’s leash to have him lean back against her thighs. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he admitted.

“You’re lucky that you only palmed yourself without permission. If you would have done anything worse, we’d be making your punishment no-touch, like Y/N. What do you say to us for sparing you that torture?”

“Thank you.”

“Good boy.”

“Let’s move them to the front,” Morgan told Elle so that she could pull Spencer onto the couch to give him room to make me crawl towards the front of the jet where no one would bother me. “Go on,” he encouraged. I started crawling, and when I made it where he wanted me, he had me turn around so that I was facing the entirety of the team. “Now, you get to sit here and watch.”

“Daddy?” I questioned, unsure of what he meant.

“And not talk.” He crouched and kissed me gently. “This is what you get for breaking the rules.”

“It’s useless to keep apologizing; isn’t it?” Around Morgan, I could talk to him like that, which was a little more casual than most scenes called for, but with the others, I could never say anything like that. Morgan understood, though. He nodded and kissed me again. “Give me a toy, at least. Edge me, ruin me— Anything.”

“No.” He stood back up.

Elle had Spencer’s pants on the ground now, and Emily had moved to the couch to peel his shirt off. As Morgan approached them, Hotch moved closer, too. I watched as the four of them dedicated their entire attention to Spencer, kissing his jawline, nibbling on his earlobe, running their thumbs over his sensitive nipples, and Elle worked her hand down under his briefs. I rolled my hips around for friction against my soaked panties when I heard Spencer let out a breathless moan just before Hotch kissed him to shut him up.

“Don’t let him edge,” Emily warned as Elle continued to play with Spencer inside of his underwear.

“Aw,” Elle cooed with false sympathy against his cheekbone, “is bunny already close?”

He nodded eagerly while pulling away from his kiss with Hotch. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Well, I think it’s only fair to make you ask Mistress for permission the same way Y/N had to.”

He turned his head to look up at Emily. “Please, Mistress?” He sounded just as desperate and pathetic as I had. “May I cum?”

“You touched without permission, though, bunny,” she said to him. He shook his head, knowing that was her answer without saying what she actually meant. “I know that listening to Y/N beg was overwhelming for you…”

She dragged her nails down his chest, making his chest tense up. I saw the way his little stomach sucked in, and I whimpered again. I wanted that to be me touching him. I loved the little tummy he had now since we had helped him get over his addiction since Mexico. He was so healthy now, which meant eating well, something we regulated, and it gave him a cute, healthy, tummy that showed when he was wearing his belts with a button down shirt. I loved praising that part of him. Sometimes, it was obvious how self-conscious it could make him, but when we let him know how much we loved it and how proud we were of his progress since Mexico, he would love it, too.

Spencer bucked up when Elle pulled her hand out of his underwear, leaving him hanging on the edge. Hotch grabbed Spencer’s hips and pushed him back down onto the couch with a huff, probably still angry about me, but now it was worse since Spencer was acting up. I saw Spencer’s cock twitch helplessly behind the constraints of his clothes. He was trying to reach for someone’s hand again, but Morgan collected his wrists together and took Elle’s handcuffs, using them to restrain Spencer the same way I was restrained.

“Please,” he pleaded. “Something. Anything. Please.”

“My bag, Hotch,” Emily muttered, focusing on getting Spencer out of his underwear now. He let out a sigh of relief when his cock bounced freely against his stomach. Hotch scrambled to Emily’s go-bag at the back of the plane and started digging in it for something. “The red one—”

“I know,” he grumbled. “I know.”

He pulled out three things, holding them up long enough for me to inspect from where I was kneeling on the opposite side of the jet. The red strap on that Emily loved to fuck Spence with, a bottle of lube to help him take her easier, and the worst part… Honestly, I didn’t know what was worse, what I was enduring or what torture was awaiting Spencer with the last toy Hotch retrieved. I didn’t even realize Emily carried it around with her. How did she even think to bring such a thing? I mean, I understood the red strap and the lube, but… that? I almost felt bad for Spencer. At least I got to cum earlier, even though I wasn’t supposed to, but it seemed like they didn’t want Spencer to cum at all. I felt sorry for him. If I wasn’t so far into sub space, I probably would’ve snickered with the rest of them, thinking about all of the wicked ways I could have tortured him with it, but… No, I couldn’t while we were both being punished.

“If you want to touch so bad,” Hotch said while returning to the couch, “then we’ll touch.” Spencer’s eyes widened when he saw the last toy. “But we won’t let you cum.”

He struggled against his Doms’ holds as Hotch knelt down to begin the tedious process of sliding the tight metal cock ring over Spencer’s length. Spencer cursed at the feelings. I had no doubts that the ring was cold to the touch— which was an unbearable feeling for him— and it was probably so tight on him… When it reached his base, it kept all of the blood right where it needed to be to ensure he stayed hard. And then Hotch grabbed the string version of the cock ring, which was entirely adjustable, so he slid it over Spencer’s balls and tightened it. Spencer cried out.

“Sir—” Spencer moaned pleasantly as Hotch suddenly dipped down and wrapped his lips around Spencer’s cock. “Thank you, Sir.”

Emily came over to torture me. She pulled at my leash, choking me, tugging my head back somewhat. “Keep your eyes on Spence.”

My gaze was narrowed down my cheeks and my nose so that I could watch as Hotch slowly licked his tongue around Spencer’s sensitive tip that was still leaking pre-cum. I knew he tasted good. I knew that he was probably a leaking, pathetic mess, and Hotch was enjoying every second of torturing him; and I wished that it were me instead of Hotch.

Without warning, Emily pressed her index finger against my clit, making me jolt.

“Fuck!”

Emily snickered and started rubbing my clit faster.

“Mistress, I’m close. Please.”

“No.” She kissed the tip of my nose before pulling her touch away. I leaned forward to regain her touch, but she was already walking away. “Lemme fuck him,” she told Hotch, wiping some of the sweat off of Spencer’s forehead.

“I want to warm him up first,” Elle said eagerly. Hotch released Spencer from his mouth and pushed himself to his feet. “Turn him over.”

Morgan and Emily worked together to get Spencer on his knees on the floor, and they pressed his chest against the couch. Emily tugged at his leash to keep him distracted when he looked over at me with a painful, silent plea for help— help which I couldn’t give. He accepted his fate, closing his eyes as he waited for the next step.

“Let me hold him,” I begged. “Please. I’ll serve you all while I do it!”

Elle squirted some of the lube onto her index and middle fingers before rubbing them up and down Spencer’s slit. He tensed up. “Fine,” she said, still concentrating on him. “Come here.”

Morgan sat on the couch, his thigh just beside Spencer’s head so that we couldn’t make eye contact from where I was anymore. I started crawling towards all of them, letting Morgan pick up my leash when I was close enough so that he could tug me forward. He spread his legs so that I was sitting between his knees. “Suck,” he commanded, beginning to take his pants off.

I took the moment with nothing to do as an opportunity to finally turn my head to look at Spencer who still had his cheek pressed against the couch. I leaned down and kissed him. He perked up and started kissing me back. Just as it got more intense, the two of us fighting for dominance in our kiss, I felt him suddenly back down when Elle slid her fingers into his tight hole, causing him to moan against my lips. Our hands were still trapped behind our backs, so I couldn’t hold him steady to encourage him to keep kissing me, I couldn’t tangle my hands in his hair, and I couldn’t even reach to hold his hands as they struggled in his cuffs.

“Baby girl,” Morgan called, waiting for me.

“Stop ignoring him,” Hotch hissed, pushing my panties to the side and sliding his thumb into me. “Shit.” He sounded so turned on. “Fuck, baby.”

“You and bunny,” Elle chuckled. “The two of you can never hold it together. Pathetic.”

Spencer and I moaned happily in response to the degradation.

Morgan, now completely impatient, held my head between his palms, tore me away from Spencer, then turned my gaze before pushing my mouth onto his cock. He kept moving me until I gagged. I felt Spencer rut against the couch when Elle must have curled her fingers against his prostate or something, and I followed suit when I felt Hotch replace his short thumb with his long cock. I thought I was supposed to be facing punishment— Not that I was arguing. Even if I could talk, I wouldn’t have brought it up, because at least I finally got him. He always felt so good. He was so long, but not as thick as Morgan, not that it mattered. Both of them knew how to please me, and that was what mattered more than anything.

“Jesus, baby girl,” Morgan moaned, throwing his head back.

“He’s ready,” Elle said. Spencer whimpered when there was a loss of contact between them after she pulled out of him and stepped away, giving Emily room to kneel behind him and line up her cock with his ass. “Are you going to be good for us, bunny? No cumming?”

Spencer whined. “I don’t know, Ma’am.”

“Promise or we won’t fuck you.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he insisted quickly, realizing his mistake. “I won’t cum. I promise.”

“Good boy.”

Suddenly, he was pushed forward when Emily roughly thrust into him. I pulled my mouth off Morgan long enough for me to catch my breath and moan as Hotch continued fucking me softly to torture me, and I looked over to see Emily showing no remorse with Spencer. Poor thing. Elle had stretched him, and Emily took a second to let him adjust, but now he was ruined. Absolutely destroyed. He was going to be wobbling on our way off the jet when we would land, I just knew it. 

“I didn’t say you could stop, slut,” Morgan growled, grabbing me by the hair this time to make sure that I wouldn’t move away from him this time. I groaned as I took all of him in my mouth again. Just as he willed it, I bobbed my head up and down, my jaw slack, my tongue flat, my throat open to stop the gagging because he was using me as a hole and nothing else, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Hotch pissed me off suddenly by reaching under me to grab my breasts through my shirt, making me roll my hips eagerly against him. “So greedy.” He thrust roughly into me in an attempt to warn me off of acting out again, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to cum. I had to cum. I needed some kind of relief. “Don’t you fucking dare—” He pulled out of me when he felt me tighten around him. “Brat.” He spanked me hard. “Elle.”

“I thought you understood that we didn’t train brats, baby,” Elle said, backing Hotch up. She teased her cleaned and re-lubed fingers at my ass now while Hotch realigned with my pussy. “You and bunny don’t get to cum.”

I moaned around Derek’s length as Elle and Hotch both thrusted into me simultaneously. He gave me every single inch he had to offer, making sure I felt just how big he was, the way he could reach deep places inside of me that made my knees weak every time. As for Elle, her approach had been a bit slower so that she could be safe. When her fingers were moving in me, she only put them in about half way before gently pulling them out and pushing them back in, this time all the way to the bottom knuckle, and then she curled her fingers. Morgan held me steady as I moaned around him again. The three of them working together to fill each of my holes was… I mean, they had all filled me further before, but this just felt so different… so good…

“Mmm—” Morgan bucked his hips up so that he could fuck my face harder. “I’m gonna cum.” He panted as his fingers gripped my hair harder. He let out a grunt as his whole body tensed, his orgasm finally hitting him like a train. As his cum spilled into my mouth, I used his hesitancy as a chance to finally move my tongue around, stimulating his shaft, making him twitch and squirm a bit more, and I hummed happily around him to make it even worse. They were torturing me, the least I could do was slyly return the favor. “Shit, baby!” He pulled me off before I could continue overstimulating. “Fuck.” His thumb caressed my cheek lovingly for a second. “Go on. Swallow.” I shook my head. I couldn’t. I couldn’t take anything more. I was so full, I felt like I was going to explode. He furrowed his brows. “Swallow, slut.” I kept shaking my head, and I tried to escape Elle and Hotch so that I could find somewhere to spit, but they held my hips still while Morgan grabbed my face. “Swallow.”

I searched his eyes for a moment, quickly realizing that he wasn’t going to release me until I did as he asked. Even if the jet landed and we were supposed to be getting off, probably to head back to mine and Hotch’s place to finish all of this, Morgan was going  to sit there with me until I swallowed. I had no choice. While keeping my gaze even with his, I slowly swallowed the load he gave me. When I was done, I opened my mouth to prove my success, and he finally let go of me while grinning.

“Was that so hard?” he teased.

“Mistress,” Spencer moaned, his voice muffled somewhat, “I can’t take it anymore.”

Morgan and I looked away from each other to investigate what was happening, and it was just as our attention was brought to him that we saw Spencer slump as he gave up. Emily was still fucking him, don’t get me worng, but his poor, red, needy cock was leaking, begging for the cock rings to be taken off so that he could ejaculate— and he just couldn’t take the denial anymore. He couldn’t take being on the brink constantly. Holding his posture for her so that he could fuck his ass, keeping his head turned so that we could hear his pathetic noises, all of that meant nothing to him now. They had finally broken him.

“It hurts,” he complained.

“Color,” she whispered, brushing his curls back so that she could lean over his back and start kissing his neck lovingly.

“Green, but I can’t… I can’t… I’m gonna—”

“The two of you and not being able to hold it today,” Elle scolded, moving her fingers faster inside of my ass. “It’s like we need to teach you guys how to behave again and work on your stamina.”

Spencer and I quickly exchanged a worried glance. We hadn’t done stamina in so long. This was close, sure, but actual stamina training with Elle was the worst— especially if Hotch were there. They liked to tie me and Spencer up so that couldn’t move a single muscle, and then they’d press a vibrator against my clit while Spencer got the fleshlight. For hours, we would have to lay there, edging again and again as Hotch and Elle turned on my vibrator and started fucking the fleshlight over Spencer’s cock, and then they’d stop when we were close enough. It was torture. They purposefully gave us hard edges. The longer we went, the more rewards we earned for the week, but if we came, they ruined our orgasms before painfully continuing, and all of it was for the sake of increasing our stamina during sex and teaching us how to hold back our orgasms until we had permission. It worked after a while. Spencer was a lot worse at it than I was, but we finally got the hang of it, and the two of us were pretty good about holding out until we had proper permission; but there was just something about the atmosphere of being on the jet compared to being at someone’s house or in a hotel room that had our brains melted down to nothing. I had orgasmed once without permission, and there were multiple occasions while Hotch and Elle were fucking me from behind that I felt myself getting there again— and if they weren’t so good about pulling away on time to edge me, I would have cum again without permission, regardless of the punishment. But Spencer… He was trying so hard to be their good boy. He had touched himself without permission, which he knew wasn’t allowed, so he had accepted that he wasn’t allowed to cum, but those cock rings were straining against him, practically milking him considering the way he was leaking so helplessly; and it was just too much for him. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Bunny, if you cum, we’re going to have to put you in your cage,” Emily warned.

“We should anyways,” Hotch panted from behind me.

Spencer shook his head urgently. “No. Please. I’ll be good. I- I prom… I promise.” He sighed as Emily changed her pace while fucking him. “I promise.” It sounded like he was crying now. “I promise…” Our little broken record. “I promise.” Not a single thought in that pretty head of his.

Hotch pulled out of me suddenly and he snatched away Elle’s fingers. My legs shook as my sudden, unexpected, unplanned orgasm was completely ruined. I hadn’t seen it coming. One second, I was watching Spencer fall apart, the next, I was clenching around nothing as my orgasm peaked yet I got no relief from the feeling since they had removed the stimulation when I needed it most. My clit was throbbing. I fell, just like Spencer, my cheek crashing against Morgan’s warm thigh.

“Their cuffs,” Hotch said pressingly. Morgan reached for his pants that were pooled at his ankles, and he grabbed the key from his pocket, then he handed it off to Hotch. “We’re done with you, baby girl,” he told me. I shook my head. I needed to cum. I had to… I had to cum… Geez, I felt as broken as Spencer looked. “Can you stand?” I shook my head again. “Okay…” He freed my hands and rubbed my wrists to ease the pain from every time I struggled against the metal bondings. “How bad is it?” he asked, taking my leash and gently tugging, a signal that he wanted me to turn around face him. I did so. When he saw my face, he chuckled, and Elle followed shortly, the two of them so impressed by how broken I must have looked. I knew that my hair was a mess, my eyes and bottom lip were pouting, and my legs were still shaking. I looked ridiculous. “That bad, princess?” He stroked his cock at the sight of me.

“Fuck them again like this,” Elle encouraged seductively in his ear. “Both of them on their backs…” she said a little louder so that everyone could hear her. “Taking what we give them.”

Hotch fell in love with the idea, immediately shooing Morgan off the couch so that he could throw me onto it. I yelped as I landed on the cushions. My right thigh was just next to Spencer’s face— so close that I could feel his pants against my skin— and Hotch, Elle, and Morgan were standing just in front of me, licking their hips with lust and hunger in their eyes. Hotch was still running his grip up and down his length at the sight of me.

“Look at the mess we made, bunny.” Morgan reached over and pulled at Spencer’s hair, pulling him upright so that his back was pressed flush against Emily’s chest as she used the new angle to fuck him harder and deeper. Spencer’s engorged penis twitched at the sight of me. My panties were soaked with a mixture of my wetness and cum. “Don’t they look so stupid?”

Spencer nodded while screwing his shut in response to Emily’s cock hitting a new spot inside of him. “Yes, Daddy. They look so good.”

I rolled my hips around, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. My whole body was on fire, and I just needed someone to touch me again. I needed to touch Spencer, which was the worst part, because I knew that they wouldn’t let me, and even if I could, a single touch was going to set him off, and I would’ve felt bad if they ruined him, too. 

“You want me, baby?” Hotch teased, gliding his thumbs over my hard nipples through my shirt.

I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“You want me to breed you?”

I let out a shaky breath before gulping and nodding. “Yes, Sir.”

He stopped fucking with me and he instead went back to stroking his cock. “I know you want to cum, baby,” he cooed, “but you can’t… Rules are rules.” He started fucking his fist faster. “Good girls get to cum.” His breath was ragged now. “You weren’t good.”

Elle grabbed his face and turned him so that they were suddenly kissing, and he pushed his hand past her pants and panties so that he could press a finger directly against her clit. They moaned together.

“I’m going to cum,” Spencer warned. Morgan was holding his leash taut, forcing Spencer to keep his back against Emily’s chest while she moaned into his neck and left a hundred different hickies. “Please. Please, Mistress.”

“No.”

“I can’t hold it.” He was leaking onto my knee now, that was how close together we were.

“I said, no. You cum, you get caged.”

“Fuck—” What Emily said did the opposite of what she had intended. Instead of deterring him from cumming, the threat of being locked up in a cock cage enticed Spencer, tipping him over the edge that he needed so badly. “I’m cumming!”

Just as his dick started twitching, Elle jumped into action, quickly grabbing my hips and turning me so that Spencer was lined up between my legs, and she pushed my panties to the side. Emily fucked harshly into Spencer as he started cumming. The force of her action jolted Spencer forward, putting his tip directly at my entrance. We both moaned at the feeling. I needed him, and it seemed he needed me, because when he felt how wet I was, his weak, repressed load slowly poured into me. He had tried to hold back. I could tell with how sad his orgasm was and how he was whimpering that he didn’t want to cum. He wanted to be good for them. But Emily fucking him, Morgan trying to choke him with the collar, the cock rings squeezing his penis and swollen balls, and my torture that he was witnessing was all too stimulating to every single one of his senses. He had to cum the same way I had to cum earlier when they denied my orgasm.

Emily stopped fucking him to make sure that the orgasm was shorter and to ensure that he didn’t go any further into me than necessary. They wanted his cum to be inside of me, but that was it. They didn’t want either of us to enjoy it.

Without warning, Hotch grabbed my hips away from Elle, putting me back where I was so that I was facing him, and he thrust into me suddenly, cumming within an instant, too. “Fuck…”

He came much harder than Spencer had because he wanted to give me everything, to fulfill the breeding kink we had. All I felt was the stretch and the warmth of his semen, though, because he refused to thrust to help ride out his high since it would have inevitably pleased me, too, and that wasn’t the point. He wanted me to be full and to get nothing out of it.

When he caught his breath, he pulled out of me slowly. I whined at the loss. “Did you learn a valuable lesson?” he questioned.

I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Which was?”

“No cumming without permission. Ever. Under any circumstances. My orgasms don’t belong to me.”

“Good girl. Go clean yourself up in the bathroom then come back for water, a snack, and play with Spencer’s hair.” He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “I’m proud of you, baby.”

I melted at the praise. “Really, Sir? Even though I broke a thousand rules?”

“Even then. You did good.”

Emily got the cuffs off Spencer, and he immediately went to pry off the cock rings, but Morgan slapped his hands away. Spencer stared at me as Morgan started gently pulling off the metal one around his shaft. “Daddy,” he hissed, his eyes clenching shut. Emily and Elle were running their fingers through Spencer’s hair already to help him calm down. “Fuck,” he gasped when it was off. “Thank you.” He then prepared himself as Morgan went to release the tie that was around Spencer’s balls. When the pressure was gone, Spencer slumped, falling somewhat, and we all reached forward to catch him. “Thank you.” Hotch kissed Spencer’s temple and pulled him onto his lap on the couch. “I’m sorry for cumming without permission.”

“We’ll call it even, bunny,” Morgan said, referencing how I had done the same thing. “You and baby did so well.”

Elle grabbed the lotion from Spencer’s bag that he used for aftercare, and she started massaging it between his cheeks as Hotch continued to hold him. “You, too,” she told me while still tending to Spence. I went to sit down, but Emily beat me to it, taking the only spot left beside Hotch, and she patted her hands on her lap. I laid over her the same way Spencer was on Hotch. Our faces were close again.

“May we?” Spencer begged.

“Yes,” Morgan answered.

Just as Elle started using her other hand to massage some lotion onto my ass, Spencer and I started kissing. He tasted so good. It was comforting rather than erotic, and I felt myself slowly easing out of sub space in a way that didn’t let me drop. I hoped that he was okay, too.

I ran my fingers through his curls. “I love you, Spence.”

He kissed me harder before mumbling, “I love you, too.”

----

criminal minds family: @peggy1999 @gorgeousdarkangel @alex--awesome--22 @oceaneblu @brithedemonspawn @absolutemarveltrash @bshelley322 @rousethemouse @sunshinepower17 @weexinling @pettttyyyc​ @Braty-angel

[aot-brainrot]

Bunny and Baby ~ Poly!BAU Team

(Full version for a smaller audience. You can check out the edited version on @imagineaworlds​​)

Written By: @desperately-bisexual​

Request: None.

Warnings: Dom/sub relationships, Sir kink, Mistress kink, Ma’am kink, Daddy kink, dirty talk, restraints (handcuffs), collaring, leashes, edging, orgasm control, orgasm denial, bladder control, degradation, mild choking, control, pegging, impregnation/breeding kink, minimal in-chapter aftercare, though it is alluded to happening afterwards. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, the team refers to them as female when saying “good girl”, “princess”, etc.

Pairing: Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy) x BAU Team.

Dynamic (in order of superiority): Sir!Dom!Aaron Hotchner, Ma’am!Dom!Elle Greenaway, Mistress!Dom!Emily Prentiss, Daddy!Dom!Derek Morgan,    switch!Reader (sub in this plot), bunny!sub!Spencer Reid.

Word Count: 9700

Criminal Minds Discord Server

We had been returning from a case in Louisiana, everyone sitting comfortably in their own seats on the jet. Hotch and I were beside each other— I was pressed between him and the window— Morgan was across from us, Emily and Elle were across the aisle and a row back, and Spencer was laying on the couch. Rossi hadn’t come with us because he had a family emergency. Emily and Elle were the only ones talking while the rest of us were quietly working on our own things; but Spencer was just half asleep on the couch, trying to catch up on some rest. He told us before we boarded that he had another headache that kept him up all night, and we all scolded him for not coming to one of us and seeking help because we always knew what to do to help him. He insisted that it wasn’t a big deal, though. While I didn’t entirely believe him, we all decided to let him rest during the flight.

It wasn’t until there was a bit of turbulence that made me grab onto Hotch’s arm that things got… interesting. The thing was, when it came to Aaron Hotchner, the slightest touch could set him off, and he would get mean because he saw even the simplest of shoulder bumps as a bratty act that needed to be punished. I always had to be careful around him because of that. But I forgot. The plane jumped in the air, my stomach dropped, and before I knew it, I was squeezing his bicep to ground myself as some kind of reminder that I wasn’t going to die or something.

When the turbulence passed, I tore my hand away from Hotch, keeping in mind that I had to keep my hands to myself, but it was too late. He was staring at me. I swallowed hard and tried to go back to my book that Spencer had recommended, which was his attempt to win his favor with me after he pissed me off one day and I wanted to punish him. He was lucky that I wasn’t as mean as Hotch and Emily. Unfortunately for me, however, that meant I was completely fucked because Hotch was still sitting there, staring at me, likely asking himself how I could dare to touch him without permission, even when it was for something as innocent as it had been. I finally dared to look up at him. He was frowning.

“Sir—” I tried to explain myself quietly so that the others couldn’t hear, but he shook his head, silently telling me to stop. I fell silent and gulped.

Hotch, without saying anything, looked back down at the iPad that was sitting on the table in front of him as he was going through emails, scoping out new cases to take on; but what he did after that was somewhat unexpected. His hand closest to me drifted between my thighs. I adjusted in my seat, trying to fix my posture to be “smooth” so that no one else would notice. No one looked up. Hotch continued with his plan, forcing his hand between my thighs, spreading my legs open to give him access to what was beneath my skirt. I should have known that wearing a skirt on the jet was only going to get me in trouble, but with the case having just ended, and with Spencer’s headaches, my attire had been the last thing on my mind. To Hotch, however, it seemed to be the only thing on his mind.

“Don’t make a sound,” he whispered to me. I was surprised Morgan didn’t hear him.

When I nodded, Hotch pressed his index and middle fingers against my panties, finding the sensitive nub that was my clit, hiding behind my labia and the clitoral hood. He was too far. I needed him to press harder to actually feel his fingers, to actually get me to the edge rather than just get needy for him— but my desperation for him and what was about to come was undeniable when he slid his fingers down to hover over my core, discovering a wet spot that was slowly forming. Hotch snickered to himself. I knew that he was probably thinking to himself something along the lines of how he had only just touched me and I was already wet, proving to him that I was always thinking about having one of them— if not all of them— fuck me.

Hotch moved back up to my clit, and he pressed hard enough that I could feel him, but not enough to actually give me everything I wanted. Slowly, he started rubbing circles over my panties. A quiet sigh left my lips as I leaned back in my seat, moved my hips forward to give him better access, and I screwed my eyes shut. There was no doubt that if Morgan happened to look up, he would know exactly what was happening.

As Hotch’s fingers started moving faster, I rolled my hips eagerly to make his pace in an attempt to speed up my orgasm, but he pulled away somewhat and slowed down until I stopped moving and waited politely for him to make another move. He went back to what he was doing suddenly. I tensed and tried my very best to hold still this time while also biting my lip to keep myself from moaning. But I was so close again. So, so close. I just wanted to cum for him.

“Sir, please,” I whispered. “Please.”

“Please, may I cum?”

“Ask Mistress first.”

My eyes widened and I looked at him, but he was still reading his emails, so I looked over at Emily. She was still casually talking to Elle without a single clue as to what a mess I was while sitting next to Hotch. I shook my head. I couldn’t. I couldn’t beg like that randomly when they were all doing their own things. So, Hotch shrugged because he didn’t care one way or the other. If I wasn’t going to ask, he wasn’t going to let me cum, and for him, that was fun and it didn’t matter. But to me, it mattered. His fingers kept rolling over my clit again and again, and it was getting unbearable, it was getting torturous. So, I dared to give in.

I let out an audible moan while leaning forward to grab onto the table to hold my orgasm back, and I croaked, “Mistress—” Everyone stopped what they were doing to look over at me. There I was, clearly falling apart as Hotch’s arm was suspiciously moving in the direction that led just between my thighs. Emily was staring at me. “Mistress, please, may I cum?”

Her mouth fell agape in shock when she realized what it was that Hotch was doing and why I was asking. She looked between me and Hotch. “Have they been good?” she asked him.

“No,” he said nonchalantly.

“Then, no, you may not cum, slut,” she said to me.

I whimpered and increased my grip on the table until my knuckles were turning white. “Please! I’m not going to last!”

“You cum, you get punished,” Morgan said.

“Fuck…” I tried wiggling away from Hotch, but it was useless since I was trapped in the seat next to the window. “Please…” I was breathless now. “Please… I can’t…”

“And what are you doing?” Elle questioned roughly, squinting at Spencer, scolding him for something I couldn’t see.

Spencer floundered and stuttered from the couch. “I— Um. Nothing, Ma’am. I’m sorry. It was nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Fuck—” I moved my hips around again with Hotch’s fingers as my orgasm suddenly washed through me, a shiver running down my spine as my toes curled in my shoes, my thighs shook against the leather seat, and my walls clenched around nothing. “Shit.” Hotch slowed his movements as I came down from my high. My eyes quickly scanned the interior of the jet, catching how they were all scowling at me, unpleased with how I had cum without any of their permission. My heart sank in my chest. “I’m sorry.”

“First, Spence starts touching himself without permission,” Elle began as she stood from her seat and started approaching the couch. I sat up a bit in my seat so that I could look over my shoulder to see Spencer sitting up somewhat now, an erection straining his pants, a small wet spot on the front from his pre-cum. “Then, you cum without our permission.” She ran her fingers through Spencer’s hair, then once she was far enough in, she curled her grip, roughly pulling at his curls to make him sit up all the way. “And the two of you still had the audacity to say that you’re sorry. I don’t think they’re actually sorry; do you, Morgan?”

“No,” he answered, also disappointed in us.

“We didn’t train brats,” she hissed, pulling at Spencer’s hair again, making him whimper.

“His headache, Elle—” Emily warned quickly.

Elle froze when she remembered, and she tried removing her grip from Spencer, suddenly aware of how she might have hurt him in her fit of anger. “I’m sorry, Spence—”

But he cut her off by gently taking her wrist and leading her touch back to his hair, encouraging to pull again. “It’s gone.”

“Don’t lie, bunny.”

“I’m not, Ma’am.”

She smirked and tugged again, bringing him to his knees. “Then the two of you have no excuse for misbehaving. Their punishment, Morgan.”

Hotch slid out of his seat and moved to the back of the jet where Emily was still sitting so that there was enough room for Morgan to stand at the same time as I did, knowing that it was better than him grabbing onto my hair, too. When we were both in the aisle, my back close to Elle’s, Morgan caught me off guard by pinching my chin roughly in between his thumb and his other four fingers. I pouted my eyes at him. I was trying to silently beg for mercy, but, of course, it didn’t work.

In fact, it made him chuckle. “Princess, you did this to yourself.”

“Daddy, I’m sorry… Please… I didn’t mean to cum.”

“Then, you should have held it like good girls do.”

“Their punishment, Derek,” Hotch reminded.

Morgan rolled his eyes because he already knew what he was doing and he hated that Hotch thought he needed to be babysat while Domming me, even though he didn’t. Morgan and I had done plenty of scenes together. As the only switch in our relationship, it was easy for me to go visit one of them when I needed to be Dommed, whereas I would go to Spencer if I needed to Dom. Each of them were unique Doms, though, and I would seek them out separately, depending on what I needed. I mean, I lived with Hotch, but he could be cruel, and sometimes, I didn’t need that. Out of all of us, Morgan was the kindest. His punishments were never harsh, and playing with him was always easy, compared to with Emily or Elle, who were on the same wavelength, both masters at torturing me with edges, ruins, forced orgasms. When I needed something light, I went to Morgan. When I needed to be completely out of control, not a single thought in my head, I went to Emily or Elle— usually both at the same time. With Hotch, he was everything that Morgan, Emily, and Elle were, but he was also the one who gave me the harshest punishments. Nipple clamps that he tugged on, floggers, plugs, being tied up and left there for an hour while he was gone, cockwarming me until he came and I didn’t. But Morgan was the one that had dictated my punishment. For cumming, he got to decide what they were going to do with me, which gave me a little bit of hope that it wouldn’t be that bad.

“Hands behind your back,” he demanded.

I did so without hesitation, and he spun me around so that he could cuff my hands together. I had a good view of Spencer and Elle now. He was on his knees in front of her, the two of them watching each other carefully— probably because she was trying to decide if he was lying about his headaches or not, and he was trying to gauge how bad his punishment would be. But she was just playing with his hair. We all loved to do that. I mean, Spencer loved it, too, which was why he did it, and it was the easiest way to ease him in and out of sub space. When I would Dom him, our sessions were usually the same. I’d go to his house to find him kneeling by the door, waiting patiently for me while wearing his cute little collar that we all picked out for him, and then he’d cook dinner for me. Sometimes, if he had been bratty, I’d sit in the living room, using him to balance platters in his hands that held my wine glass, any snacks I had, and sometimes even a book or two. If he ever dropped them, I’d punish him. If not, I’d reward him. For rewards, we’d go to his bedroom where I’d worship his cock, but never getting him close enough to the edge to actually make it 100% pleasant. I liked watching him squirm. Even when he had his best days, he knew that I wasn’t going to immediately let him cum because my favorite part about being his Dom was controlling his orgasms. As for punishments, that usually came with tying him up, flogging him sometimes, ruining his poor, little orgasms to make him whimper pathetically, and overstimulating him. I fucking loved the sounds he made during sex. Usually, I could pry them out of him with just a simple praise, but they were always so sweet when I had him tied to his bed, a plug in his ass, and I was riding every single drop out of him, never stopping even after he came inside of me.

His hair, though… One rough tug at his hair and he was immediately our bunny. For aftercare, his favorite thing was cuddling while we played with his curls. Brushing his hair, curling his strands around our fingers, gently massaging his scalp, all of those things prevented him from sub dropping, and it reassured him that he was safe with us, that we loved him, that he was going to be okay. I loved his hair. In fact, I was obsessed with it. Watching as Elle played with it and he nuzzled against her with a hypnotized, submissive smile on his face, I felt myself lighten up, too.

“Come here, bunny,” Morgan beckoned Spencer over to us. After Elle released him, he crawled around her and stopped just in front of me. “Take their skirt off.” Spencer did as he was told, reaching up for my waistband, quickly pulling my skirt down to my ankles. I helped him by stepping out of them. “Not their panties,” he warned when Spencer moved for those, too. Spencer dropped his hands to his lap. “Can you see how wet Sir made them? The mess they made from breaking the rules?”

Spencer nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Don’t be like them.”

“Spence, where’s your collar?” Elle asked, already digging through his bag that she retrieved from one of the overhead bins. I heard another one open behind me and Morgan, probably something that Hotch or Emily were looking for. “Nevermind.” She found Spencer’s collar and leash in his go-bag and brought it over to us. “Presentation.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Spencer looked up somewhat so that Elle could see where she was positioning the collar over his Adam’s apple, and then he looked down and moved his long hair out of the way so that she could clasp it together.

“Presentation,” Morgan whispered in my ear. So, that was what the other overhead bin had been. Hotch had probably gone digging for my collar, too.

The rule with me and Spencer was that we weren’t allowed to wear our collars in public because the whole point of kink was that all parties were consenting adults at all times. If someone wasn’t consenting to the scene, it had to stop immediately. The thing with wearing an obvious O-collar out and about was that the general public couldn’t consent to viewing it. Yes, it looked like a choker if you were oblivious, but it still wasn’t fair. And we didn’t like to draw attention to ourselves, anyhow. So, Spencer and I could never wear our collars in public, but we always had to bring them in our go-bags in case a situation like this arose where we were at the hotel and needed to submit, or, yes, even on the jet. This had only happened once before, though, to be fair.

When Morgan finished clasping my collar around my neck, he pushed me to my knees, my face even with Spencer’s. His breath was hot on my nose, our lips so close I could nearly taste him, but Elle tugged on his leash, pulling him back, and Morgan tugged on mine, pulling me back. We both whimpered at the feeling. “You don’t get to touch each other,” Morgan hissed. “In fact, Y/N, you don’t get to touch anyone at all.” My eyes widened and I looked up at Elle, almost as if I could read the look on her face to see how the rest of them were feeling behind me. She was smirking. “Em, the water.”

My eyes widened even further. “Wait. No. Please—” I struggled against the cuffs, wiggling around on the ground as I made a desperate attempt to free myself with no such luck. I knew what was coming. I hated it. I didn’t want them to have the satisfaction of watching me struggle uncomfortably later while they laughed at me. I didn’t— “Mistress, please,” I begged as Emily sat in Hotch’s seat so that she was right beside me. “Please, anything else.”

“Color, baby girl,” she said calmly. She wasn’t as frustrated as the others, I could tell. That was the nice thing about her. As wicked as she could be, her emotions were usually opposite to Elle’s. When Elle was mad, Emily was calm. When Emily was mad, Elle was… well, she was still mad, but she made an attempt to restrain herself.

I pouted. “Green.”

“Then, open your mouth.” She held my jaw as I opened up and tilted my head back somewhat, waiting as she unscrewed the cap of the water bottle in her hands. She had one with her, but Hotch was setting two more down next to his iPad on the table. “Tap Morgan’s leg for Colors.” I felt Morgan press his shin against my back so that my fingers were near his ankles in case I needed to have them slow down or stop.

Emily started slowly pouring the water into my mouth. When I couldn’t hold anymore, she stopped, giving me a chance to swallow. And then she did it again. We kept going until the entire bottle was finished, and even then, she grabbed the next bottle, unscrewed the cap, and started pouring. It was half way through the bottle when I started to feel it. The uncomfortable feeling in my stomach that told me that I was going to have to pee soon, and I whimpered, tapping Morgan’s ankle to tell them that I needed them to slow down.

Emily stopped pouring. “What is it, princess?” she asked.

“I’m already there…” I shamefully admitted.

“Full?”

I shook my head.

“Then, keep going.”

I reluctantly opened my mouth again and let Emily continue her work, getting to the end of the second bottle before she decided that I had enough. They were going to save the last bottle. Certainly, there were more in the fridge where the bar was at the back of the jet, but they would grab them as needed. For now, two was enough, later, they would give me a third, and when it got really bad, they would grab more if they had to. I didn’t want the third one, though. I already had to go, and because of it, I could feel myself actually getting wet again, a sign that I was going to be miserable for my entire punishment.

The point of making me drink was that the feeling of being full aroused me the same way it would if I were filled with Hotch or Morgan’s cocks, or Emily or Elle’s straps. It was the same build that came with needing to orgasm. They controlled my orgasms the same way they controlled… well, when I could go. They made me hold my orgasms the same way they made me hold this— and both were painful to keep back. I was fortunate, however, unlike Spencer, to know that I had never actually released without permission, in front of them, or during a scene at all. Spencer, on the other hand… The poor thing. He could never hold it when Morgan would grab his hips and slide inside of him. The pressure on his prostate and his bladder was always just too much.

Eventually, they’d let me go, but they’d wait long enough until I was squirming. I mean, they weren’t going to hurt me. Since Morgan had chosen this as my punishment, they were all going to have to keep an eye on me to make sure I wasn’t actually in pain because this could be a dangerous punishment if not properly handled; but I trusted them. If they weren’t going to let me cum, they at least had to let me pee— which felt just as good as letting go of my orgasms.

“Bunny’s so hard…” Elle teased, pulling on Spencer’s leash to have him lean back against her thighs. “Did it turn you on to watch Mistress make princess drink?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he admitted.

“You’re lucky that you only palmed yourself without permission. If you would have done anything worse, we’d be making you drink, too. What do you say to us for sparing you that torture?”

“Thank you.”

“Good boy.”

“Let’s move them to the front,” Morgan told Elle so that she could pull Spencer onto the couch to give him room to make me crawl towards the front of the jet where no one would bother me. I whimpered when I felt how full I was while on all fours. I already hated it. “Go on,” he encouraged. I started crawling, and when I made it where he wanted me, he had me turn around so that I was facing the entirety of the team. “Now, you get to sit here and watch.”

“Daddy?” I questioned, unsure of what he meant.

“And not talk.” He crouched and kissed me gently. “This is what you get for breaking the rules.”

“It’s useless to keep apologizing; isn’t it?” Around Morgan, I could talk to him like that, which was a little more casual than most scenes called for, but with the others, I could never say anything like that. Morgan understood, though. He nodded and kissed me again. “Give me a toy, at least. Edge me, ruin me— Anything.”

“No.” He stood back up.

Elle had Spencer’s pants on the ground now, and Emily had moved to the couch to peel his shirt off. As Morgan approached them, Hotch moved closer, too. I watched as the four of them dedicated their entire attention to Spencer, kissing his jawline, nibbling on his earlobe, running their thumbs over his sensitive nipples, and Elle worked her hand down under his briefs. I rolled my hips around for friction against my soaked panties when I heard Spencer let out a breathless moan just before Hotch kissed him to shut him up.

“Don’t let him edge,” Emily warned as Elle continued to play with Spencer inside of his underwear.

“Aw,” Elle cooed with false sympathy against his cheekbone, “is bunny already close?”

He nodded eagerly while pulling away from his kiss with Hotch. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Well, I think it’s only fair to make you ask Mistress for permission the same way Y/N had to.”

He turned his head to look up at Emily. “Please, Mistress?” He sounded just as desperate and pathetic as I had. “May I cum?”

“You touched without permission, though, bunny,” she said to him. He shook his head, knowing that was her answer without saying what she actually meant. “I know that listening to Y/N beg was overwhelming for you…”

She dragged her nails down his chest, making his chest tense up. I saw the way his little stomach sucked in, and I whimpered again. I wanted that to be me touching him. I loved the little tummy he had now since we had helped him get over his addiction since Mexico. He was so healthy now, which meant eating well, something we regulated, and it gave him a cute, healthy, tummy that showed when he was wearing his belts with a button down shirt. I loved praising that part of him. Sometimes, it was obvious how self-conscious it could make him, but when we let him know how much we loved it and how proud we were of his progress since Mexico, he would love it, too. Especially when he was as full as I was.

Spencer bucked up when Elle pulled her hand out of his underwear, leaving him hanging on the edge. Hotch grabbed Spencer’s hips and pushed him back down onto the couch with a huff, probably still angry about me, but now it was worse since Spencer was acting up. I saw Spencer’s cock twitch helplessly behind the constraints of his clothes. He was trying to reach for someone’s hand again, but Morgan collected his wrists together and took Elle’s handcuffs, using them to restrain Spencer the same way I was restrained.

“Please,” he pleaded. “Something. Anything. Please.”

“My bag, Hotch,” Emily muttered, focusing on getting Spencer out of his underwear now. He let out a sigh of relief when his cock bounced freely against his stomach. Hotch scrambled to Emily’s go-bag at the back of the plane and started digging in it for something. “The red one—”

“I know,” he grumbled. “I know.”

He pulled out three things, holding them up long enough for me to inspect from where I was kneeling on the opposite side of the jet. The red strap on that Emily loved to fuck Spence with, a bottle of lube to help him take her easier, and the worst part… Honestly, I didn’t know what was worse, what I was enduring while my bladder got worse or what torture was awaiting Spencer with the last toy Hotch retrieved. I didn’t even realize Emily carried it around with her. How did she even think to bring such a thing? I mean, I understood the red strap and the lube, but… that? I almost felt bad for Spencer. At least I got to cum earlier, even though I wasn’t supposed to, and I was going to get a chance to go to the bathroom after all of this, so I’d have two releases, but it seemed like they didn’t want Spencer to cum at all. I felt sorry for him. If I wasn’t so far into sub space, I probably would’ve snickered with the rest of them, thinking about all of the wicked ways I could have tortured him with it, but… No, I couldn’t while we were both being punished.

“If you want to touch so bad,” Hotch said while returning to the couch, “then we’ll touch.” Spencer’s eyes widened when he saw the last toy. “But we won’t let you cum.”

He struggled against his Doms’ holds as Hotch knelt down to begin the tedious process of sliding the tight metal cock ring over Spencer’s length. Spencer cursed at the feelings. I had no doubts that the ring was cold to the touch— which was an unbearable feeling for him— and it was probably so tight on him… When it reached his base, it kept all of the blood right where it needed to be to ensure he stayed hard. And then Hotch grabbed the string version of the cock ring, which was entirely adjustable, so he slid it over Spencer’s balls and tightened it. Spencer cried out.

I felt my stomach fill out a bit more. I tried sitting back on my feet to relieve the tight feeling that being upright or tilting forward caused, but Morgan caught my movement out of the corner of his eye, and he glared over at me. I knew what he was going to say before he could even open his mouth. “Daddy, I can’t.”

“I don’t care. Sit up.”

I adjusted, my panties rubbing flat against my clit, the waistband of said panties moving just under my stomach, making me feel the sweet torture of my full bladder being teased. I moaned, “Fuck…”

“Does it feel good?”

I shook my head. “Please, just let me go pee real quick. I’ll come back and sit here quietly like a good girl.”

“The next bottle, Em.”

I cried, “No!” The more I struggled against the cuffs, I felt my bladder swell, making the urge to pee worse. “Please!”

“Sir—” Spencer moaned pleasantly as Hotch suddenly dipped down and wrapped his lips around Spencer’s cock. “Thank you, Sir.”

Emily came over with the last bottle of water. “We won’t make you hold it much longer,” she whispered as she unscrewed the cap. Subconsciously, I already knew what she told me because it wasn’t safe to hold it back much longer, but hearing it from her was still a relief that made me sigh gratefully. “Open.” I tilted my head up and opened my mouth. “Keep your eyes on Spence.” My gaze was narrowed down my cheeks and my nose so that I could watch as Hotch slowly licked his tongue around Spencer’s sensitive tip that was still leaking pre-cum. I knew he tasted good. I knew that he was probably a leaking, pathetic mess, and Hotch was enjoying every second of torturing him; and I wished that it were me instead of Hotch, but I couldn’t do anything about it as Emily started making me drink. “Swallow.” I closed my mouth and slowly drank everything she had poured. “Breathe,” she cooed when she caught me panting afterwards. “You’re okay.”

I immediately felt my bladder swell again. “Mistress, I can’t take it anymore…”

“You’ve done more before.”

“Alone with Sir, yes. I’ve never been overwhelmed like this before.”

“Open again.”

I did so. When she was done pouring, I swallowed again. It was getting even worse now. “I can’t—” Without warning, Emily pressed her index finger against my clit, making me jolt. “Fuck!” The stimulation was enough for my body to relax just enough for long enough that I let go for a moment. I caught myself just as it happened. “No, no, no, no—” Emily snickered and started rubbing my clit faster. I was so embarrassed by what had just happened, even though it could have been much worse, but all of that embarrassment was clouded by the fact that it felt so good to be touched after Morgan gave me the impression that none of them were going to touch me for the rest of the flight. “Mistress, I’m close.” Because of my full bladder, the truth was, the urge to pee mixed with the urge to cum, which only quickened my edge. “Please.”

“No.” She kissed the tip of my nose before pulling her touch away. I leaned forward to regain her touch, but she was already walking away, and I cried again as I felt my entirely full bladder swell my belly. “Lemme fuck him,” she told Hotch, wiping some of the sweat off of Spencer’s forehead.

“I want to warm him up first,” Elle said eagerly. Hotch released Spencer from his mouth and pushed himself to his feet. “Turn him over.”

Morgan and Emily worked together to get Spencer on his knees on the floor, and they pressed his chest against the couch. Emily tugged at his leash to keep him distracted when he looked over at me with a painful, silent plea for help— help which I couldn’t give. He accepted his fate, closing his eyes as he waited for the next step.

“Let me hold him,” I begged. “Please. I’ll serve you all while I do it!”

Elle squirted some of the lube onto her index and middle fingers before rubbing them up and down Spencer’s slit. He tensed up. “Fine,” she said, still concentrating on him. “Come here.”

Morgan sat on the couch, his thigh just beside Spencer’s head so that we couldn’t make eye contact from where I was anymore. I started crawling towards all of them, letting Morgan pick up my leash when I was close enough so that he could tug me forward. He spread his legs so that I was sitting between his knees. “Suck,” he commanded, beginning to take his pants off.

I took the moment with nothing to do as an opportunity to finally turn my head to look at Spencer who still had his cheek pressed against the couch. I leaned down and kissed him. He perked up and started kissing me back. Just as it got more intense, the two of us fighting for dominance in our kiss, I felt him suddenly back down when Elle slid her fingers into his tight hole, causing him to moan against my lips. Our hands were still trapped behind our backs, so I couldn’t hold him steady to encourage him to keep kissing me, I couldn’t tangle my hands in his hair, and I couldn’t even reach to hold his hands as they struggled in his cuffs.

“Baby girl,” Morgan called, waiting for me.

“Stop ignoring him,” Hotch hissed, pushing my panties to the side and sliding his thumb into me, pressing directly towards my bladder. I screamed in pain against Spencer when I felt myself let go a bit more. “Shit.” He sounded so turned on. “Fuck, baby.”

“You and bunny,” Elle chuckled. “The two of you can never hold it together. Pathetic.”

Spencer and I moaned happily in response to the degradation.

Morgan, now completely impatient, held my head between his palms, tore me away from Spencer, then turned my gaze before pushing my mouth onto his cock. He kept moving me until I gagged. I felt Spencer rut against the couch when Elle must have curled her fingers against his prostate or something, and I followed suit when I felt Hotch replace his short thumb with his long cock. I thought I was supposed to be facing punishment— Not that I was arguing. Even if I could talk, I wouldn’t have brought it up, because as painful as my bladder felt, at least I finally got him. He always felt so good. He was so long, but not as thick as Morgan, not that it mattered. Both of them knew how to please me, and that was what mattered more than anything.

“Jesus, baby girl,” Morgan moaned, throwing his head back.

“He’s ready,” Elle said. Spencer whimpered when there was a loss of contact between them after she pulled out of him and stepped away, giving Emily room to kneel behind him and line up her cock with his ass. “Are you going to be good for us, bunny? No cumming?”

Spencer whined. “I don’t know, Ma’am.”

“Promise or we won’t fuck you.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he insisted quickly, realizing his mistake. “I won’t cum. I promise.”

“Good boy.”

Suddenly, he was pushed forward when Emily roughly thrust into him. I pulled my mouth off Morgan long enough for me to catch my breath and moan as Hotch continued fucking me softly to torture me, and I looked over to see Emily showing no remorse with Spencer. Poor thing. Elle had stretched him, and Emily took a second to let him adjust, but now he was ruined. Absolutely destroyed. He was going to be wobbling on our way off the jet when we would land, I just knew it.

“I didn’t say you could stop, slut,” Morgan growled, grabbing me by the hair this time to make sure that I wouldn’t move away from him this time. I groaned as I took all of him in my mouth again. Just as he willed it, I bobbed my head up and down, my jaw slack, my tongue flat, my throat open to stop the gagging because he was using me as a hole and nothing else, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Hotch pissed me off suddenly by reaching under me to grab my breasts through my shirt, and when I thought that his intentions were pleasant, he threw me for a loop by caressing my inflated stomach. He chuckled. “So full…” He massaged the sensitive part of my torso where my bladder was, making me roll my hips eagerly against him. “And so greedy.” He thrust roughly into me in an attempt to warn me off of acting out again, but I couldn’t help it. The need to pee was too similar to the need to cum, the two feelings were blended together now, so when he teased my stomach, I wanted to cum. I had to cum. I needed some kind of relief. “Don’t you fucking dare—” He pulled out of me when he felt me tighten around him. “Brat.” He spanked me hard. “Elle.”

“I thought you understood that we didn’t train brats, baby,” Elle said, backing Hotch up. She teased her cleaned and re-lubed fingers at my ass now while Hotch realigned with my pussy. “You and bunny don’t get to cum.”

I moaned around Derek’s length as Elle and Hotch both thrusted into me simultaneously. He gave me every single inch he had to offer, making sure I felt just how big he was, the way he could reach deep places inside of me that made my knees weak every time. As for Elle, her approach had been a bit slower so that she could be safe. When her fingers were moving in me, she only put them in about half way before gently pulling them out and pushing them back in, this time all the way to the bottom knuckle, and then she curled her fingers. Morgan held me steady as I moaned around him again. The three of them working together to fill each of my holes was… I mean, they had all filled me further before, but not when my bladder was already full, too; this just felt so different… so good…

“Mmm—” Morgan bucked his hips up so that he could fuck my face harder. “I’m gonna cum.” He panted as his fingers gripped my hair harder. He let out a grunt as his whole body tensed, his orgasm finally hitting him like a train. As his cum spilled into my mouth, I used his hesitancy as a chance to finally move my tongue around, stimulating his shaft, making him twitch and squirm a bit more, and I hummed happily around him to make it even worse. They were torturing me, the least I could do was slyly return the favor. “Shit, baby!” He pulled me off before I could continue overstimulating. “Fuck.” His thumb caressed my cheek lovingly for a second. “Go on. Swallow.” I shook my head. I couldn’t. I couldn’t take anything more. I was so full, I felt like I was going to explode. He furrowed his brows. “Swallow, slut.” I kept shaking my head, and I tried to escape Elle and Hotch so that I could find somewhere to spit, but they held my hips still while Morgan grabbed my face. “Swallow.”

I searched his eyes for a moment, quickly realizing that he wasn’t going to release me until I did as he asked. Even if the jet landed and we were supposed to be getting off, probably to head back to mine and Hotch’s place to finish all of this, Morgan was going  to sit there with me until I swallowed. I had no choice. While keeping my gaze even with his, I slowly swallowed the load he gave me. When I was done, I opened my mouth to prove my success, and he finally let go of me while grinning.

“Was that so hard?” he teased.

“Mistress,” Spencer moaned, his voice muffled somewhat, “I can’t take it anymore.”

Morgan and I looked away from each other to investigate what was happening, and it was just as our attention was brought to him that we saw Spencer slump as he gave up. Emily was still fucking him, don’t get me worng, but his poor, red, needy cock was leaking, begging for the cock rings to be taken off so that he could ejaculate— and he just couldn’t take the denial anymore. He couldn’t take being on the brink constantly. Holding his posture for her so that he could fuck his ass, keeping his head turned so that we could hear his pathetic noises, all of that meant nothing to him now. They had finally broken him.

“It hurts,” he complained.

“Color,” she whispered, brushing his curls back so that she could lean over his back and start kissing his neck lovingly.

“Green, but I can’t… I can’t… I’m gonna—”

“The two of you and not being able to hold it today,” Elle scolded, moving her fingers faster inside of my ass. “It’s like we need to teach you guys how to behave again and work on your stamina.”

Spencer and I quickly exchanged a worried glance. We hadn’t done stamina in so long. This was close, sure, but actual stamina training with Elle was the worst— especially if Hotch were there. They liked to tie me and Spencer up so that couldn’t move a single muscle, and then they’d press a vibrator against my clit while Spencer got the fleshlight. For hours, we would have to lay there, edging again and again as Hotch and Elle turned on my vibrator and started fucking the fleshlight over Spencer’s cock, and then they’d stop when we were close enough. It was torture. They purposefully gave us hard edges. The longer we went, the more rewards we earned for the week, but if we came, they ruined our orgasms before painfully continuing, and all of it was for the sake of increasing our stamina during sex and teaching us how to hold back our orgasms until we had permission. It worked after a while. Spencer was a lot worse at it than I was, but we finally got the hang of it, and the two of us were pretty good about holding out until we had proper permission; but there was just something about the atmosphere of being on the jet compared to being at someone’s house or in a hotel room that had our brains melted down to nothing. I had orgasmed once without permission, and there were multiple occasions while Hotch and Elle were fucking me from behind that I felt myself getting there again— and if they weren’t so good about pulling away on time to edge me, I would have cum again without permission, regardless of the punishment. But Spencer… He was trying so hard to be their good boy. He had touched himself without permission, which he knew wasn’t allowed, so he had accepted that he wasn’t allowed to cum, but those cock rings were straining against him, practically milking him considering the way he was leaking so helplessly; and it was just too much for him. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Bunny, if you cum, we’re going to have to put you in your cage,” Emily warned.

“We should anyways,” Hotch panted from behind me.

Spencer shook his head urgently. “No. Please. I’ll be good. I- I prom… I promise.” He sighed as Emily changed her pace while fucking him. “I promise.” It sounded like he was crying now. “I promise…” Our little broken record. “I promise.” Not a single thought in that pretty head of his.

Hotch pulled out of me suddenly and he snatched away Elle’s fingers. My legs shook as my sudden, unexpected, unplanned orgasm was completely ruined. I hadn’t seen it coming. One second, I was watching Spencer fall apart, the next, I was clenching around nothing as my orgasm peaked yet I got no relief from the feeling since they had removed the stimulation when I needed it most. My clit was throbbing. I felt myself leak just a bit more, my bladder warming up at the feeling. I fell, just like Spencer, my cheek crashing against Morgan’s warm thigh.

“Their cuffs,” Hotch said pressingly. Morgan reached for his pants that were pooled at his ankles, and he grabbed the key from his pocket, then he handed it off to Hotch. “We’re done with you, baby girl,” he told me. I shook my head. I needed to cum. I had to… I had to cum… Geez, I felt as broken as Spencer looked. “Can you stand?” I shook my head again. “Okay…” He freed my hands and rubbed my wrists to ease the pain from every time I struggled against the metal bondings. “How bad is it?” he asked, taking my leash and gently tugging, a signal that he wanted me to turn around face him. I did so. When he saw my face, he chuckled, and Elle followed shortly, the two of them so impressed by how broken I must have looked. I knew that my hair was a mess, my eyes and bottom lip were pouting, my legs were still shaking, and I was so bloated. I looked ridiculous. “That bad, princess?” He stroked his cock at the sight of me.

“Fuck them again like this,” Elle encouraged seductively in his ear. “Both of them on their backs…” she said a little louder so that everyone could hear her. “Taking what we give them.”

Hotch fell in love with the idea, immediately shooing Morgan off the couch so that he could throw me onto it. I yelped as I landed on the cushions. My right thigh was just next to Spencer’s face— so close that I could feel his pants against my skin— and Hotch, Elle, and Morgan were standing just in front of me, licking their hips with lust and hunger in their eyes. Hotch was still running his grip up and down his length at the sight of me.

“Look at the mess we made, bunny.” Morgan reached over and pulled at Spencer’s hair, pulling him upright so that his back was pressed flush against Emily’s chest as she used the new angle to fuck him harder and deeper. Spencer’s engorged penis twitched at the sight of me. My panties were soaked with a mixture of my wetness, my cum, and whatever had leaked out of me earlier. “Don’t they look so stupid?”

Spencer nodded while screwing his shut in response to Emily’s cock hitting a new spot inside of him. “Yes, Daddy. They look so good.”

I rolled my hips around, butterflies fluttering in my stomach— or maybe that was the urge to pee just getting worse. Regardless, though, my whole body was on fire, and I just needed someone to touch me again. I needed to touch Spencer, which was the worst part, because I knew that they wouldn’t let me, and even if I could, a single touch was going to set him off, and I would’ve felt bad if they ruined him, too. 

“You want me, baby?” Hotch teased, gliding his thumbs over my hard nipples through my shirt.

I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“You want me to breed you?”

I let out a shaky breath before gulping and nodding. “Yes, Sir.”

“You wanna be fuller than you are now, huh?” His hands worked their way down to my stomach where he started massaging his thumbs in, finding my bladder without any problems. “So fucking full. It’s gotta be uncomfortable, baby, I know… But you did this to yourself.”

“Sir—” I tried moving away from him in an attempt to make him stop teasing my bladder, but I couldn’t escape. “I won’t hold it if you keep doing that.”

I didn’t want to be like Spence. As much as I loved him, I didn’t want to share his embarrassment of peeing myself like he had. The first time it happened, we were all together for Elle’s birthday. Spencer had been acting up during dinner, touching her when he wasn’t supposed to, speaking out of turn, giving me lip when I told him to be careful. We weren’t having it. When we got to Elle’s place, he complained that he had to pee before we started, but Hotch pinned him to the wall with a large hand around his throat, making Spencer’s eyes widen as he started apologizing profusely. Hotch didn’t let him go. For being a brat at dinner, the consensus was that we were going to take turns fucking him and cumming inside of him while he had to hold it. He hated it. He was already bloated from dinner, but when we fucked into him, we could see our cocks through his tummy as we were thrusting in and out of him. As I said before, it was always when Morgan finally got to fuck him that Spencer let go. It was something about the girth I was pretty sure, because out of him, Hotch, and the straps Em, Elle, and I had, Morgan was the thickest, which meant that he always stretched me and Spencer, so it was no surprise that Spencer immediately let go when it happened. He cried at the humiliation. He couldn’t believe he had done that while we were all watching— and what was worse to him was that we liked it. We liked that it degraded him.And even worse than that was that he liked it. It made him hard, and when Hotch started to jerk him off, it wasn’t long until he was begging to cum. I was the one who took mercy on him. I gave him permission before the others could argue,  and Spencer immediately fell apart.

I didn’t want to be the one who felt Hotch fill me up and I couldn’t help but let go, and they would laugh at me. I could tell how embarrassed I’d be. Hotch seemed to take mercy on me  the same way I had with Spencer back then. He stopped fucking with me when I was practically in tears, and he instead went back to stroking his cock.

“I know you want to cum, baby,” he cooed, “but you can’t… Rules are rules.” He started fucking his fist faster. “Good girls get to cum.” His breath was ragged now. “You weren’t good.”

Elle grabbed his face and turned him so that they were suddenly kissing, and he pushed his hand past her pants and panties so that he could press a finger directly against her clit. They moaned together.

“I’m going to cum,” Spencer warned. Morgan was holding his leash taut, forcing Spencer to keep his back against Emily’s chest while she moaned into his neck and left a hundred different hickies. “Please. Please, Mistress.”

“No.”

“I can’t hold it.” He was leaking onto my knee now, that was how close together we were.

“I said, no. You cum, you get caged.”

“Fuck—” What Emily said did the opposite of what she had intended. Instead of deterring him from cumming, the threat of being locked up in a cock cage enticed Spencer, tipping him over the edge that he needed so badly. “I’m cumming!”

Just as his dick started twitching, Elle jumped into action, quickly grabbing my hips and turning me so that Spencer was lined up between my legs, and she pushed my panties to the side. Emily fucked harshly into Spencer as he started cumming. The force of her action jolted Spencer forward, putting his tip directly at my entrance. We both moaned at the feeling. I needed him, and it seemed he needed me, because when he felt how wet I was, his weak, repressed load slowly poured into me. He had tried to hold back. I could tell with how sad his orgasm was and how he was whimpering that he didn’t want to cum. He wanted to be good for them. But Emily fucking him, Morgan trying to choke him with the collar, the cock rings squeezing his penis and swollen balls, and my torture that he was witnessing was all too stimulating to every single one of his senses. He had to cum the same way I had to cum earlier when they denied my orgasm.

Emily stopped fucking him to make sure that the orgasm was shorter and to ensure that he didn’t go any further into me than necessary. They wanted his cum to be inside of me, but that was it. They didn’t want either of us to enjoy it.

Without warning, Hotch grabbed my hips away from Elle, putting me back where I was so that I was facing him, and he thrust into me suddenly, cumming within an instant, too. “Fuck…”

He came much harder than Spencer had because he wanted to give me everything, to fulfill the breeding kink we had. All I felt was the stretch and the warmth of his semen, though, because he refused to thrust to help ride out his high since it would have inevitably pleased me, too, and that wasn’t the point. He wanted me to be full and to get nothing out of it.

When he caught his breath, he pulled out of me slowly. I whined at the loss. “You can go now.”

My eyes widened for a second as I registered what he said, but once I dawned on me, I didn’t hesitate. Despite my still weak legs, I pushed myself off the couch and I ran straight for the small bathroom at the back of the jet. I held onto the counter in front of me as I finally released everything that had been building. It felt just as good as an orgasm, if I were being honest. Holding it like that, being teased and denied by my Doms like that… It was just as painful as being edged, but getting to release was just as rewarding as an orgasm.

The door opened suddenly to reveal Hotch standing there, fully clothed, his arms crossed over his chest. I tried hiding myself by clasping my hands together over my crotch. “Did you learn a valuable lesson?”

I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Which was?”

“No cumming without permission. Ever. Under any circumstances. My orgasms don’t belong to me.” I felt another wave of liquid pressing against my weak bladder, but I tried my best to hold it back since he was still standing there.

“Next time, I will make you go in front of them. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Clean yourself up then come back for water—”

“Sir—”

“Not for that,” he said with a chuckle. “Water, a snack, and play with Spencer’s hair.” He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “I’m proud of you, baby.”

I melted at the praise. “Really, Sir? Even though I broke a thousand rules?”

“Even then. You did good.” He closed the door again and walked off, giving me the chance to release again.

When I was finished, I stood and cleaned myself, using the washcloths under the sink to clean up between my thighs. Usually, one of them would have helped, but the jet was too small, and the bathroom was only big enough for one person. I had to do this part on my own. When I was washed and dried, however, I made my way back into the main cabin, finding Emily racing to get the cuffs off Spencer. The second he was free, he immediately went to pry off the cock rings, but Morgan slapped his hands away. Spencer stared at me as Morgan started gently pulling off the metal one around his shaft. “Daddy,” he hissed, his eyes clenching shut. Emily and Elle were running their fingers through Spencer’s hair already to help him calm down. “Fuck,” he gasped when it was off. “Thank you.” He then prepared himself as Morgan went to release the tie that was around Spencer’s balls. When the pressure was gone, Spencer slumped, falling somewhat, and we all reached forward to catch him. “Thank you.” Hotch kissed Spencer’s temple and pulled him onto his lap on the couch. “I’m sorry for cumming without permission.”

“We’ll call it even, bunny,” Morgan said, referencing how I had done the same thing. “You and baby did so well.”

Elle grabbed the lotion from Spencer’s bag that he used for aftercare, and she started massaging it between his cheeks as Hotch continued to hold him. “You, too,” she told me while still tending to Spence. I went to sit down, but Emily beat me to it, taking the only spot left beside Hotch, and she patted her hands on her lap. I laid over her the same way Spencer was on Hotch. Our faces were close again.

“May we?” Spencer begged.

“Yes,” Morgan answered.

Just as Elle started using her other hand to massage some lotion onto my ass, Spencer and I started kissing. He tasted so good. It was comforting rather than erotic, and I felt myself slowly easing out of sub space in a way that didn’t let me drop. I hoped that he was okay, too.

I ran my fingers through his curls. “I love you, Spence.”

He kissed me harder before mumbling, “I love you, too.”

[akitokihojo]

Monster - Chapter 16

chapter index

dedicated to @keichanz bc I made her a deal on twitter the other day.

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Inuyasha wasn’t breathing. For all he knew, his heart wasn’t even beating.

Kagome.

The nails of her fingers were pinching into the tentacle with force even the hanyou could see. There were tears beginning to streak her face. She was scared. She was so scared. But, in her eyes, all he could see was how desperately she wanted to be with him. Right at his side, in his arms, protected behind him, it didn’t matter. She just wanted to be with him. Inuyasha’s ears pinned to his head in response, a horribly guilty feeling taking root not just in his core, but in his entire body.

Naraku’s wicked smile grew wider, bearing teeth as a rumble of laughter escaped his tongue.

How could he get to her? Inuyasha needed to move fast. He needed to act now. His sword was too far out of reach, and his claws had already failed him against the disgusting tendrils that held him captive. If he could get his hands on his sheath, it could act as a magnetic force and pull his sword back in. He’d done it before. The problem was, it was clutched within the tentacles wrapped around his hip.

He began to grow frantic. The appendage wasn’t budging, and the puppet’s laughter was only growing further taunting. Scrambling, Inuyasha tried reaching for Tessaiga, extending his hand as far as it would go, scraping his forearms on the rocky terrain as he tried crawling, pushing himself, prying himself free, anything. He wanted to scream at the goddamn sword to come to him. He was wearing the fucking sheath; why couldn’t it work this way? Kagome was in trouble. He needed to save her. He didn’t have time to weasel the sheath out; the sword should obey his command. Inuyasha wasn’t opposed to begging, and if his throat hadn’t had a thick, bulbous lump form in the center of it, he would be openly pleading for Tessaiga to come to him.

“Inuyasha.” Her voice was small, frightened, and if his ears could sink back any further, they would have instantly. That tone from her, that fragile, broken tone was worse than when she yelled. It was like she wanted to say something more, but she couldn’t. The rest of it all was caught behind her trembling frown and large eyes.

He could see it on her face. He could tell what she wanted to say, and he didn’t want to hear it. Not like this. Not here. Not now. If it was only under duress, then not ever. She would only say those words under these circumstances because she’d be giving up. Inuyasha couldn’t handle that form of heartbreak. Not from her, and he surely wouldn’t survive it, himself. No. He could still save her.

The hanyou halted immediately as he heard her gasp, golden eyes flying back to her to find that Naraku had jerked her toward him. Their faces were an inch apart, her tears were gliding down to the tip of her nose with how he held her, and the sick bastard caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.

“Scream for me.”

Inuyasha flashed cold. The monster threw Kagome so violently, and her blood-curdling scream rang in his ears. Everything in him stopped. He was struck frozen. The vital pieces of him shattered instantaneously, and the fragments of who he was pierced his lungs, his heart, his stomach, his arteries.

“No.” He whispered pleadingly.

“No.” He said a little louder, his lungs beginning to pump as warmth gradually returned to him. Kagome wasn’t dead. He could still fucking save her. Fuck this puppet, fuck Naraku. He could still save Kagome.

With a seething rage that quickly boiled over, engulfing him, sending every little bit of his instincts into hyperdrive, Inuyasha reached for his sword again, but suddenly feeling a rush of turbulent, demonic energy soaring their way, he hastily stopped and ducked down. He felt the tight grip Naraku’s tentacle had on him slacken, and without a second thought, Inuyasha shoved the fucking thing off, scampering forward to snag the hilt of Tessaiga and jump to his feet.

“Fuck!” Sesshomaru growled, his knuckles white with how tightly he gripped his own sword. His presentation with it was strong, stoic, and his light, amber eyes glowed with the hint of venomous red.

Inuyasha didn’t have a second to waste to question anything. The puppet’s flesh was mending from Sesshomaru’s attack, and while its attention was on his half brother, the hanyou needed to go.

He raced to the edge, but a sharp smack on his abdomen had Inuyasha flying backwards. Quick enough this time, he stayed on his feet, stumbling where he’d landed, but swift in throwing himself right back into his objective. He dodged the root that had just assaulted him but was caught by another, bringing a lethal growl from his clenched teeth.

“You’re not going anywhere, half breed!” Naraku yelled, yet again throwing him back.

Inuyasha wasn’t going to bother wasting his breath on this puppet. He wasn’t going to entertain back-and-forth’s, or play the insult game, or even threaten the vile creature. What he was going to do was get to Kagome as fast as he fucking could.

The hanyou raised Tessaiga over his head, blisteringly hot as he felt the demonic energy power through his sword, and he swung so hard that the sharp edge of the metal sliced into the ground beneath his feet. His attack damaged the earth as it surged in Naraku’s direction, and just as the assault ripped at his flesh, Inuyasha took the open opportunity to try and sprint by.

It was infuriating how his attempt was, yet again, thwarted. How was the thing so goddamn fast when it was damaged?

“Inuyasha, stop!” Sesshomaru demanded. “Fight!”

“Don’t worry, half breed. You’ll join your wench in hell soon.”

“Fuck you!” Inuyasha roared, swiping his sword at the tentacle that threatened him and chopping it clean off. “Sesshomaru, take this! I have to rescue Kagome!”

“You have to stay!” His brother returned, readying his sword for another attack. “You have to fight!”

“I can’t!”

“You fucking coward!” Sesshomaru shouted, a vein bulging in the center of his forehead. “Fight Naraku!”

“It’s just a puppet! It’s not him! You’re not going to find your precious child with this creep; it’s a decoy! His heart is in his abdomen! Finish him off! I don’t have fucking time for this!”

“Inuyasha!”

“Sesshomaru, if your daughter was the one thrown over the cliff, you wouldn’t fucking hesitate to jump after her! So, why the fuck are you stopping me!? I know you saw Kagome go over! I won’t tell you this again! If you stop me, if Kagome is dead because I couldn’t save her in time, I’m going to kill you, too!” The glower, the radiance in the hanyou’s eyes was positively murderous. He meant what he’d said. Anyone who got in his way from this point further was in the crossfire, and he would swing his sword without hesitation.

Nevertheless, Sesshomaru tried to convey his message silently. He wasn’t sure if his younger brother would receive it; he was daft, and when his vision was clouded by urgent matters, he was unreceptive toward hints. Still, giving it effort Inuyasha was unworthy of, Sesshomaru furrowed his brows a little deeper, his stare unwavering, his hardened jaw unrelenting as he ordered the half breed to trust him. And, to his surprise, it seemed Inuyasha understood. Though his shoulders remained squared, his glare relaxed an ounce, and with extreme reluctance, he turned his fearsome attention back in the direction it truly belonged.

The puppet, now completely regenerated again, began to laugh. “How adorable.” He disparaged. “The two dog demon brothers are going to work together to take down their foe.”

Kagome hit the water. Hard. The air was knocked from her lungs, and large bubbles escaped her mouth as she coughed forcefully. The hit and the current had her disoriented, and though she was trying to regain control over her body in a hasty manner, she couldn’t. No matter how hard she tried to kick, to move her arms, it was like she had no proper muscle control and was at the mercy of the unforgiving river.

Desperately, she needed to breathe. Kagome was trapped beneath the rolling water, tossed and turned, and pushed down every time she thought she might be right-side-up. Finally working in her favor, the current pulled her up and she was able to gasp deeply, choked, but she got in some oxygen before her head was thrown beneath the surface again.

How was she going to get out of this? How was she going to survive before asphyxiation stole what was left of her? Already, due to her fight against the waves crashing on her, Kagome felt her lungs begging for air. So easily, her muscles grew fatigued, but she pushed and pushed. Her legs never stopped kicking, though they pumped a little less powerfully. Her arms never stopped grabbing for the surface, though it always felt like it was too far.

Again, the current had some compassion and it brought her up for a short breath of air, pushed her under, then pulled her up again where she was able to swim the tiniest bit. The river was too wild, though. It was too strong. She barely stood a chance against it and Kagome worried that, at this rate, she wouldn’t survive long enough to find shallow land and pull herself ashore.

Something thick wrapped around her core, and she felt herself being pulled. Kagome’s back was pressed against a hard surface, and whatever held onto her had a grasp that refused to let go. She wasn’t fighting it. She couldn’t fight it. Truthfully, she was too dizzy to properly comprehend what, exactly, was happening. Her head was brought to the surface, and Kagome gasped loudly for air, hearing the same from whomever was immediately behind her.

They were shoved beneath the water again, but she could feel herself being guided, pulled, and in an attempt to aid, she pumped her legs as hard as she could. Thankfully, it wasn’t long until her head was thrusted up above the current by the very arms that held her tight.

“Grab onto this!” She was instructed, directed closer to a thick log that was wedged between boulders. “Don’t let go!”

“I can’t!” Kagome admitted, trying but slipping each time. Her muscles still didn’t want to work with her, and the texture of the bark was more slimy than rough, giving her no grip to cling to.

“No, I’ve got you Kagome! I promise!”

“I’m gonna slip!”

“You wont! I’m right here!” He swore. “Just grab on for two seconds!”

She did, latching on as tight as she could as she felt the body pin her to it. Water was flooding over, in their faces, and Kagome had had to turn her head to the side so she stood a chance at breathing.

“Listen closely! The moment we move, we’re gonna be pulled under again! I’m not going to let go of you! Just swim, okay? I’m going to get us to the bank as quickly as I can!”

Kagome nodded in acknowledgment.

“Take a deep breath! Now!”

With a gasp, Kagome released her grip on the log just as she felt his thick arms wrap around her waist again. She was yanked to the right by his force, and with everything she had, she pumped her legs. It was excruciatingly tiring so quickly, it pushed the air from her lungs, and she felt that pressure, that burning, that ache for more oxygen all too soon. She had to last. She had to trust them. Their hold was unrelenting, so she knew they were doing everything they could to help her.

She was brought to the surface, and Kagome coughed violently, finally feeling loose ground beneath her as she tried crawling through the deeper water to the more shallow edge. Those hands never left her, guiding her, pulling her completely out of the throws of dangers, away from the water where she stood on her hands and knees on the smooth surface of rock. The coughs and chokes racked her torso painfully, and a large hand rubbed her back, urging her to let it out as water spilled from her mouth.

“There you go. There you go, Kagome.” He reassured as more of the river forced its way from her lungs. “Atta girl.”

With her chest pumping, not quite done coughing, Kagome glanced up to see Koga beside her, and instantly, she felt a little safer to lean into his touch, allowing her muscles to give in just for a brief moment. The wolf demon gladly supported her, continuing to rub her back as he, too, breathed heavily.

“How did - how did you…?” Kagome sputtered as she sat up again, watching Koga crawl the short way over to the rocky wall and lean his back against it.

“I was trying to sneak up on the fucker. Saw you go over and abandoned it immediately. Jumped in after you.” He admitted, sweeping the soaked, rogue strands of hair that escaped his ponytail from his face.

For a second, she was grateful. She would have died without his help. But, then it was like the situation hit her ten fold, and a new panic began to build. “You should have - you should have helped Inuyasha. He’s -“

“Woah there.” Koga tried to calm her down as she unsteadily attempted to push herself to her feet, falling instantly. She was persistent in her failed attempts, though. Again, she tried to walk, and her muscles immediately gave out. And, then she tried to settle with crawling, but even then, she couldn’t even bring herself to crawl straight, falling off balance as soon as she got going. “Kagome, chill. Stop. He’s fine. He’ll be fine. Sesshomaru’s with him.”

Kagome met him with stricken eyes, a more pressing expression appearing on her face. As if that was further back up to her argument than anything, and the wolf demon couldn’t fight the chortle that escaped his lips.

“No, I promise you, Inuyasha will be fine! Relax!” He insisted, grabbing her waist to essentially pin her to her spot so she’d stop trying to scurry away. “I know it’s unsettling, but Sesshomaru’s after the puppet. Inuyasha dying would mean Naraku won, and Sesshomaru’s just that prideful to want to prevent that at all costs.”

She breathed some, trying to steady herself as she processed what Koga had said. All she could do was hope he was right. Kagome was trembling so bad, she could barely move her body correctly, so what help would she even be right now? She’d only get in the way. If Sesshomaru was there, it was still two against one. At least Inuyasha wasn’t fighting Naraku alone.

“How did you know it was a puppet?” She asked.

Koga presented the bruised cut in the midsts of the heeling process on his left cheek. “We were lucky enough to run into one yesterday. Because of that, we knew the scent. And, we’d caught onto yours and Inuyasha’s, so we ran over.”

“I never considered Sesshomaru the supportive type.” Kagome remarked.

“He’s not.” The wolf confirmed. “He just wants to make sure everything that belongs to Naraku is shredded to pieces. Who cares, though? It works in your guys’ favor.”

“So, you’re traveling with him now?”

“Despite his requests that I burn in hell and leave him alone, yeah. Don’t worry, he’s gotten used to me.” Koga chuckled, but his smile quickly faded as he realized Kagome was struggling with herself. He’d thought she was cold, but the way her fingers continued to shake wasn’t just a shiver. Of course. She’d almost just died. Her eyes were on the rock beneath her, her frown was subtle but present, her cheeks were pale, and as if he had a passage into her mind, he could tell she was worried. “Kagome?”

“We need to -“

“No.” He knew what she was going to say. She was so easy to read right now, and the tears brimming in her eyes basically confirmed his suspicions. “He’s fine. This is Inuyasha we’re talking about. The most stubborn bastard on the planet.”

“I need to help him.”

“He can handle this.”

“I need to help him.” Kagome repeated, more fervently that time.

“Kagome, do you trust him?”

The conjurer looked up at him, a warm tear gliding down her cold cheek. Of course, she trusted Inuyasha. She trusted him more than anybody. It wasn’t even a question she needed to consider, and in reply, she nodded her head.

“Then, have faith in his strength, as well. He needs it right now. You think he’d let anything happen to himself when, for all he knows, he needs to go find you? That fucker doesn’t know when to quit, believe me. He doesn’t know I was there, he doesn’t know I saved you. Inuyasha’s going to be just fine, I fucking swear it.” Koga said, never breaking the contact his bright blue eyes held on hers. Gently, he pushed some soaked hair away from her face, sweeping it behind her ear. His voice took on a softer note then, trying to get her to relax just a little. “I’ll get you back to him. I will. You’ll see. Lend me some of that trust for a little while, okay?”

He was right. No matter how difficult it was to swallow her pressing concerns, her anxiety, Kagome decidedly gave him the respect he deserved and accepted his kindness with a nod. After rescuing her, Koga had earned that much.

She had the saddest pout and the wolf demon didn’t know the first thing about helping her. Poor thing looked like she’d been through the wringer lately, and just barely surviving a near-death experience now topped it all off. Her silent tears meshed with the water she was still drenched in, and for the sake of her vulnerability, he resisted in crossing any boundaries that would potentially make her uncomfortable. No cheek stroking or tear cleaning, no unsolicited, tender gestures, no unwarranted touching.

“You want a hug?” He carefully offered. He was happy with how quickly she nodded, crying just a little harder as it all came crashing down on her. She just needed to ride the worst of her nerves out. It was the comedown from the rush of adrenaline; he knew that stress very well.

Koga scooted a couple inches closer to the conjurer, pulling the woman into his chest so she could slump against him as he rubbed her back. Patiently, he waited for her to calm down, and as she sat up straight and rubbed her eyes clean, Koga turned around onto his knees.

“Climb on.”

The sweat leaking into the gash on Inuyasha’s forehead was burning worse than when the blood got into his eye, the salt in his sweat creating a sizzling sensation. It inadvertently served as a grounding effect, keeping Inuyasha in the present as he stood not too far from his half brother, facing off with the faux Naraku. This shouldn’t be taking so goddamn long, but alternatively speaking, the tick of a second passing felt like minutes to Inuyasha. All it meant was Kagome was getting further and further away, her danger increasing.

Even though Sesshomaru had pinned him with his glare, communicating an urgent vexation that the hanyou begrudgingly felt was important to heed, they were still failing to work together. Inuyasha and his brother had different brands of fighting, and the both of them were domineering in their own way. It wasn’t like combat with Kagome, where they bounced off of one another and utilized each other’s strengths to advance. Not even close. All he and Sesshomaru were doing here was clashing. But, Inuyasha now knew that the only way it seemed they’d make a difference would be for one of them to swallow their pride and follow the other’s lead - and he knew damn well it’d have to be him to do so. Sesshomaru was too proud and egotistical to ever consider being led by another, no less him, but Inuyasha was to the point where he didn’t give a flying fuck anymore. He shouldn’t even be here right now, but since he was stuck, he needed this fight to come to an end.

“Got a plan?” Inuyasha asked.

“Kill it.” Sesshomaru bluntly stated.

“It’s regenerative properties are fast.”

“No, you’re just slow in following up your fucking moves. If there’s an opening, you take it. Your mind is on that girl. It needs to be here. In this fight.”

“I don’t much see you finishing that thing off! If you’re so goddamn fast, seal the deal, Sesshomaru!”

“It cannot be me! Don’t you get it? I’ve faced my puppet and sent my message off to Naraku! He knows I’m in the race! This is yours! If you want him to know where you stand against him, kill this thing, Inuyasha! Rip it apart! Tell him you will not stand for this with your actions! Or, are you actually as weak as your human heart makes you out to be?”

“What is this, a motivational speech?” Inuyasha ridiculed, leaping to the left to dodge a flailing tentacle from the freakish puppet.

“Goddammit, you worthless piece of shit, just kill it!” Sesshomaru fired, swinging his Bakusaiga down to throw an attack at Naraku. His arm disintegrated, part of his chest breaking off as well, but again, his idiotic half brother didn’t move quick enough.

“I don’t have fucking time for this!” Inuyasha yelled, his voice cracking with his fury.

“You’d better fucking make the time! Kagome is dead, Inuyasha! To run after her would be a waste! You have nothing better to do now than to fuck that thing up!”

“She’s not dead!”

“She is dead! There’s no fucking way she’d survive that fall! Do not delude yourself!”

“Sesshomaru, shut the fuck up!”

“Grow up, Inuyasha! Do not die the way father did! Do not die because of the love of a human who cannot even fight for herself!”

Irate, Inuyasha slashed his sword with so much force that the wind even caused Sesshomaru to stumble away. He was seeing red, the boiling of his blood effervescent, physically tingling just beneath his skin, and without thinking, the hanyou jumped for the puppet, shoved his claws through the regenerating flesh, and pulled out a wooden object. Tendon-like tissues clung to the “heart,” attempting to pull it back into his body, but Inuyasha refused to let go, holding firm despite the numerous blows Naraku supplied to his temple, his growl turning into a loud and deep roar as he tore the wood away once and for all.

Naraku’s body, the tentacles, the firm spider legs, the roots that made home all crumbled away with a maniacal shout of defeat that would have caused a chill to race down Inuyasha’s spine had he not been in such an infuriated state of mind. Even so, the heart hadn’t been destroyed. In Inuyasha’s hand, skin began to bubble, grow, sprout, engulfing his fist, but he didn’t blink. The hanyou had dropped Tessaiga to the floor and redirected his path toward Sesshomaru, his glower deep and fearsome.

“I don’t care about making you eat your words. I’m going to shove this down your throat so you choke.” Inuyasha threatened, grabbing the collar of his brother’s shirt. “Solve the problem at the root, right? Can’t talk shit if you’re dead.”

Unfazed and basically emotionless, having not moved from his spot, Sesshomaru reached for Inuyasha’s hand, currently covered completely by the building flesh. The only reason he could guess Naraku hadn’t come back fully yet was Inuyasha’s hold on the heart. There must have been damage slowing it down. Releasing a poison from the tips of his claws, Sesshomaru easily pierced the dough-like skin, penetrating the few inches necessary until he felt Inuyasha’s fist. Gliding his fingers upward, he then found the top half of the heart and snapped it. Instantly, the budding demon died away, a demonic essence evaporating free to disappear in thin air.

Before Sesshomaru could say anything degrading, Inuyasha dropped the crumbled wood and used that same hand to grab his brother’s throat, his claws piercing in at the sides. Swiftly, he stepped a leg behind Sesshomaru’s, shoving his weight back so he would lose balance and topple to the ground with Inuyasha’s direction, Bakusaiga slipping from his hand with a clank. The demon hissed, his growl unable to truly come out through the strangulation, but there was little effort in fighting Inuyasha off, he noticed. Despite that, the hanyou couldn’t free himself from his own clouded mind. He was livid, the storm in his chest violent and raging.

“I am so sick and tired of you belittling everything and everyone around you, you pompous fucking prick!” Inuyasha seethed, ignoring the thrusts of Sesshomaru’s palms against his shoulders.

“Enough!” His half brother spewed through choked breaths, but still did not apply as much force as he should have been.

“Father did not die because of my mother. He died for my mother. I’m sorry that that meant he was taken from you too, but I had as much control over the situation as you did. Do not think less of dad for that, and definitely do not think less of the person my mother was.” The hanyou stated gruffly, pressing his claws tighter against Sesshomaru’s throat. “Her being human didn’t mean a goddamn thing when it came down to the punch. My mother was fierce. My mother was a fighter in her own goddamn way. Come on, Sessy, think about it. You know dad. You think I got my fucking attitude from him?”

Finally, Sesshomaru gripped Inuyasha’s wrist, twisting it painfully to jerk the fucker’s fingers off of his neck so he could breathe. He threw a punch upward at his brother, but to his dismay, the half breed blocked the hit by grabbing his fist and pinning it aggressively to the rock beneath them.

“You’re being irrational! Calm down!” Sesshomaru demanded.

“I find it ironic that you want to mock any kind of love when, if I recall correctly, you’re in love with someone that isn’t even real.” Inuyasha snarled. “Kagura is a mutant created of our enemy’s flesh and sorcery, you goddamn hypocrite! Loving a human is disgusting to you, but what about loving an inorganic lump of clay!?”

“Do not speak of her like this!” Sesshomaru growled.

“Or, what!? Am I offending you!?” The hanyou ridiculed.

“Shut the fuck up, you -“

Inuyasha ripped his wrist free from his brother’s grasp, throwing a punch against his jaw to disorient him before going right back to strangling him. His fingers wrapped around his throat much tighter than before, and it seemed he legitimately held the uncontrollable intent to kill this time around.

“She’s fine, by the way.” Inuyasha said, his voice deadly and low as he leaned in closer to Sesshomaru’s face. “Kagome saw her. Kagome was covered in blood, sobbing, had just lost a fucking friend, and one of the first things she turned to me to say was that your girlfriend and daughter were safe. And, you want to look down on her for being human. That human is so much stronger than you.” His voice picked up as Sesshomaru began to struggle against him, trying to pry his hand from his throat as he dragged in a ragged breath of air. “Maybe not physically, but she’s got the strongest soul of anyone I’ve ever met. Being what she is, you know full and well that that’s more than enough to break you.

“You act as if dying for a human is revolting, but your child, what is she? You can’t fool me into thinking you wouldn’t gladly go in her stead, because I know, just like myself and our father, that you would be happy to die if that meant they got to live.”

“You aren’t thinking clearly. Your human heart - your emotions -“ Sesshomaru grunted through clenched words, forcing his brother’s hand away again. This time, he pinched his claws into Inuyasha’s palms, making it difficult to tear away from. “Goddammit, you imbecile, use your ears! Your nose!”

Inuyasha stopped fighting for a moment and froze. What the fuck was he talking about? The scent in the air was tainted with the ruined earth around them and the leftover stench of Naraku’s puppet. He smelled the river water like they were directly next to it, he smelled his brother, he smelled sweat, he smelled his blood. There was nothing he should be catching onto, and it only felt like Sesshomaru was attempting to distract him.

“Stop! Stop.” The demon ordered as Inuyasha turned to attack him again, gradually relaxing his grip on the hanyou. “Just wait a minute, you fucking idiot.”

The hanyou was confused, but he found genuine sincerity in his brother’s amber eyes. Something he’d never before seen and almost didn’t recognize. Within thirty seconds, he caught approaching footsteps. One person. Heavy boots. The scent of them was muted by water, which was why he couldn’t grasp their presence earlier. Inuyasha’s heart was pounding at a horrendous pace, the blood racing through his veins causing his hands and fingers to quake unsteadily, so he stabilized them by gripping Sesshomaru’s shirt to keep him pinned down in case anything went wrong. Who the fuck was coming their way? It was a demon; he knew that much. Was Sesshomaru warning him of this so they could both prepare for another assault?

Koga was surprised at the rate it took for Kagome to grow heavier against him. At first, she was apprehensive to mount his back, to allow him to carry her. She’d insisted she could walk on her own, but the both of them knew she was full of shit and her pride was getting the better of her. Reluctantly, she’d given in, but was stiff against him. He could tell she wanted to run up the mountain, to be rejoined with Inuyasha as soon as physically possible, but Koga needed to make sure the battle had enough time to finish up before he got her back. If Naraku’s puppet was still around, there was no doubt it would target her in her vulnerable state, and while she would be thoroughly protected, there was no harm in preventing the attack altogether. She’d been through enough for now.

For a moment, he could feel her trembling against him, her fingers clenching against his shoulder, but as his strides stayed smooth and unhurried, Kagome seemed to quickly slump along his frame. Before he knew it, her cheek was planted against his shoulder, her hands were gently holding him, her legs were swaying with his gait, and she finally trusted him with her momentary peace.

He could tell she wasn’t asleep, but at the same time, she was somewhere in a lethargic state. Kagome was neither present nor afar. She’d zoned in her meager relaxation, allowing her mind to briefly rest. Her quivering hadn’t quite fully faded; her fingers still twitched against him. She hadn’t completely stopped crying either, and the only way he could tell that, aside from the subtle twinge of salt coming from her, was the warm tears that leaked from her eyes and onto his shoulder, seeping through his vest. The rest of her was cold, wet, shivers that could barely be differentiated from her anxiety racking her body here and there. Koga hoped his heat was helping at least a little, but he knew the only thing that really would was getting her dry and wrapping her in something warm.

The wolf could hear yelling from a distance, and that, alone, was a dead giveaway that Kagome was too exhausted to currently comprehend anything outside of the context of her mind. Good. If she could hear what he could transpiring between the half brothers, she’d have a fucking aneurysm. He didn’t sense Naraku anymore. Barely even smelled the puppet. So, that meant the worst was over with and he could safely bring Kagome through.

It went dead silent as he approached, the crack of a twig beneath his boot sounding like it echoed in a closed chamber with how the attention was suddenly centered on him. Inuyasha was on top of Sesshomaru, his head bleeding, that blood seeping down his face, his hands in a vice grip against his brother’s shirt, but his eyes darting up to him.

“Sorry, we missed out on all the fun. Or - uh - did we make it just in time for the show?” Koga asked.

The rumble of his gruff voice from his back against her chest had Kagome’s attention slowly rising again. How long had it been since she’d dazed? She barely remembered the hike up, but now they’d stopped. Had he really spoken, or was she dreaming it? She couldn’t even tell if she’d fallen asleep or not. Her eyes blinked open to see they were no longer on a path, and it took a moment to really recognize the scenery around. Lifting her head, Kagome propped her chin against Koga’s shoulder to get a look at who he could be talking to and what was going on, blinking hazily until she saw him.

Inuyasha watched Koga amble into the scene, his hair damp, brown vest and dark pants deepened in shade from moisture that was far from drying completely. Beyond that was a person slouched over his back, and his heart did a flip in his chest. His breathing was already abnormal due to all the physical exertion and emotional stress, but as soon as he spotted the woman Koga carried, his lungs began to take on a different pattern. One of anticipation. One of hope.

Long, damp, black waves became visible as they moved their head, planting their chin against Koga’s shoulder to blink their eyes his way, and immediately, Inuyasha dropped his grip on Sesshomaru and sprinted over to her. Kagome. She was alive. She was okay.

Kagome’s legs and arms squirmed of their own accord, frantically working to free herself from Koga’s supportive hold. The wolf murmured a word of shock from her sudden uprise in energy as he kneeled down to properly release her, and she raced toward Inuyasha, crashing into his arms.

“I’m okay! I’m okay!” She rasped before he could ask her to say it, burying her face in his neck as her hanyou hugged her tight.

Inuyasha physically couldn’t speak. He was so overwhelmed by just barely losing her that being able to hold her right now, to know she was alright, had him fighting his knees from crumbling beneath his weight. It was all he could do to thread his fingers through her wet hair at the back of her head and kiss her temple, attempting to communicate with that, but even after doing so, he found it conveyed nothing that he truly wanted her to know.

This should have never happened.

He should have never left her alone in the first place.

He should have been faster. Stronger.

He was so, so, so fucking sorry.

“Took you fucking long enough.” Sesshomaru remarked as Koga sauntered over, holding out a hand for him to take to help him off the floor. Unsurprisingly, the offer was rejected and the dog demon pushed himself to his feet after wiping his bottom lip of a trickle of blood.

“We were washed downstream quite aways. And, I wanted to make sure you guys had ample timing to finish off that puppet. The fuck happened to you?” Koga asked. Sesshomaru didn’t reply, merely shooting a glare at the half breed who was looking over their way, listening in. “No, don’t tell me. Were you being a good, big brother and allowing Inuyasha to let off some steam so that he stayed here? Or, did he actually get the better of you?”

“Oh, fuck off.” Sesshomaru spit.

“You knew?” Inuyasha asked. “You knew Koga went after her the whole time?”

“I figured it out when he hadn’t come up to help. He was climbing the edging of the mountain to sneak in from behind.” His brother replied.

“Then why the fuck would you tell me she was dead!?”

“Use your brain, Inuyasha. I couldn’t tell you anything in front of Naraku. He came here for her, did he not? Therefore, he would have gone stalking off after her if he knew she may have survived.”

Inuyasha actually appreciated that Sesshomaru was tactful enough to cover for the conjurer. It may have crushed him in the moment, but it prevented a chase.

“Also, I could not guarantee Koga was able to rescue her. He’s a wolf demon, not a mermaid. For all I knew, they were both goners.” Sesshomaru said carelessly.

“Thanks, bud.” Koga grimaced.

The hanyou couldn’t even care about that. Sesshomaru wouldn’t openly admit this, so it would be pointless to ask, but it made sense now why he wasn’t actually fighting Inuyasha. He was, for the most part, allowing the altercation to happen so that Inuyasha would stay busy, stay put. He said what he thought would encourage more powerful attacks, and they worked. They were ruthless, but they worked. Inuyasha physically tore the heart from Naraku’s stomach and ended things. And, then he would have ran off aimlessly looking for Kagome had he not been so distraught about what Sesshomaru had said to him.

He was right. Inuyasha had gotten too emotional. But, that was inevitable and it was manipulated to work in his favor.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to feel. It was that Inuyasha didn’t know what to feel first, or if there was even a proper succession to process everything in. Nor did he have the opportunity to think about it before Kagome softly caressed her fingers over his cheek to bring him back to her.

Amber eyes drifted her way, a vibrancy in the irises that grounded her, and his shoulders seemed to soften.

“Your head.” She whispered, moving her fingers to stroke away some blood, but Inuyasha gently grabbed her hand before she could.

“Don’t worry about it, baby. It’s fine.” He quietly said in return. Inuyasha never released her hand, holding it close to his chest, trying to quell the tremors that still ailed her.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Kagome asked, her frown deepening with her concern.

His stomach was sinking. Inuyasha felt so unbelievably heavy, it was a wonder he was still on his feet at this point. Tossed over a cliff, and Kagome was still more concerned about him. Trembling where she stood, but she still attempted to clean the blood from his face. All he wanted to do was kiss her, but he felt like he’d break the moment he leaned in.

In an attempt of a reply, he pulled Kagome back into his chest, placing a soft peck against her forehead. “I’m okay.”

Sesshomaru cleared his throat. They should be grateful he provided a small moment of respect for their reunion, but they had the rest of the night to be sickeningly clingy. For now, and for his efforts, he deserved an answer.

“Inuyasha mentioned you saw Kagura.” His voice was tense, more stressed than he’d intended to come off. He wasn’t typically one to show these sort of emotions, but he found it was becoming increasingly unavoidable when it pertained to his found family.

“Sesshomaru -“ Inuyasha was firm as he was about to declare this conversation wasn’t about to take place right fucking now, but Kagome silenced him with a gentle interruption. One that clearly told him she didn’t mind. Otherwise, she would have stayed quiet.

“I did. I didn’t get to talk to her, though.” She replied, stepping out of the safety of Inuyasha’s arms to stand on her own.

“Then how do you know she and Rin are safe?” Sesshomaru’s fingers furled into rigid fists. Was he lied to? Was he given the inkling of false hope he’d foolishly clung to?

“I overheard her.” Again, her tone was gentle. She knew this wasn’t easy on him, and she could only imagine the pain Inuyasha’s older brother was in. He may be too stoic to show it, but if her little brother was kidnapped by the madman that is Naraku, she’d be devastated. Picturing it from a parental point of view was like putting a blade through her own heart. Not consistently knowing their whereabouts or the state of their welfare had to be excruciating. “Kagura killed my friend, Kikyo. She was another conjurer. One Naraku once loved and feared. I was there while not actually being there, but the details of that part you don’t necessarily need to know. It’s just an explanation as to why I didn’t get to speak with her directly.

“Kagura didn’t want to kill her. She said she only did it to ensure the safety of a little girl. I feel it’s safe to assume that it was your daughter she was talking about. Rin, you said her name was? If that’s the case, which I’m positive it has to be, Kagura’s doing everything in her power to keep Rin protected. Sesshomaru, your family is okay.”

“How long ago was this?” He only looked relieved by a small degree. His shoulders were still incredibly taut and his jaw was hard and set.

“Six days.” Kagome replied. “And, I know you’re thinking anything can happen in that time, but I don’t feel like Kagura would let anything happen.”

“She’s being punished. Now I know why.” Sesshomaru informed.

Her brow crinkled, disturbance twisting her features slightly. “What?”

“We faced a puppet yesterday. That thing told me.”

“But, she did what he told her to do.” She stated, perplexed.

“There’s no use in trying to make sense of Naraku’s actions, Kagome.” Sesshomaru said, his fists still white around his knuckles as he pressed his claws into the heels of his hands.

“Wait, this puppet said the real Naraku was having an episode ‘underground.’” Inuyasha mentioned. “He distinctly warned Kagome not to bring up Kikyo or else the real Naraku could potentially overhear and come through, but that he was essentially torn apart about her death. If he’s twisted enough to mourn for her after plotting it all, he could be twisted enough to punish Kagura for being the one to end her life.”

Inuyasha felt guilty bringing anything up, but the possibility of the truth of the circumstance had to be discussed. He could tell Sesshomaru didn’t want to know too much more, and he could practically feel that talking so much about Kikyo’s passing was salt in an unsealed wound for Kagome. Be that as it may, she didn’t flinch, didn’t look away, but she broadened her shoulders in bracing. She understood it was an inevitable topic and was going to handle it as best as she could, and Inuyasha was proud of her.

“Rin,” Kagome began, carefully watching the demon’s body language. His intense eyes shifted over to her from the side as he had looked away moments ago. His lips were relaxed together, though the most subtle frown of resentment lingered - one not directed her way but still presented for her to observe. “Sesshomaru, Rin’s safe. I’m not just saying that to reassure you. I can feel it in my gut that she’s okay.”

“Does your gut know where they are located?” He asked, scornfully.

“N-no.” She admitted.

“Then, your gut is useless to me.” Sesshomaru declared, shifting on his heel and walking away.

Inuyasha’s hand found Kagome’s back. It wasn’t worth the energy to argue with Sesshomaru over his tactless statement, but watching Kagome’s chest deflate sadly brought a dull ache to sit in Inuyasha’s chest.

“I shouldn’t have said that.” She spoke. “He’s right, how is that supposed to make him feel better?”

“Don’t beat yourself up.” Koga said, still standing near the spot Sesshomaru had left him behind in. “The guy’s great with optimism. If it were literally anybody else, saying something like that would honestly be helpful. You had good intentions, it’s just his choice whether to receive it or not.”

The wolf demon walked over to them, patting Kagome on the head when she gave a meager, disappointed grin, but his gaze met Inuyasha’s. “It looks like you guys have been through hell lately. I suggest you two lay low for a day or so. Keep out of sight. Rest. It’s not gonna hurt anyone if Naraku thinks Kagome is dead. Let him.”

“Koga,” Kagome stepped in to reward him with a kind hug. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckled, rubbing her back before letting her go. “I’m serious. Lay low.”

“Wolf.” Inuyasha spoke, clenching his jaw as he looked at him. His stomach was doing flips and turns, his hands were still shaking, his body felt leadened, and the air in the atmosphere felt like sludge thickening around his shins. As if a swallow would push it all away, Inuyasha bypassed the lump in his throat to do just that, feeling as if he merely managed to mask it all momentarily, and feebly at that. Still, if it weren’t for Koga, Kagome might have died. That needed to be acknowledged. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t do it for -“

“I don’t care.” Inuyasha cut him off, his tone wavering as his defenses faltered for a second. “I don’t care what or who you did it for. It doesn’t fucking matter. I don’t care. Thank you for saving Kagome’s life.”

“Wow. Uh, yeah.” Koga nodded, almost bewilderingly. He couldn’t help but be slightly blown away by Inuyasha’s genuine emotions. It wasn’t like he could claim he knew the guy super well, but it’d been a few years since they’d met and this was the first time he’d ever seen Inuyasha in any manner but grouchy. And, he wouldn’t claim the half demon was anywhere near happy at the moment, but this was still deep. “Sure. Get going, dude.”

“Yeah.” Inuyasha agreed, watching as the wolf demon ran off to follow his brother.

He waited a moment, turning to meet Kagome’s stare at the same time she turned to him.

“Are you really okay, baby?” Inuyasha breathed, cradling her face so softly.

“I’m fine. I promise.” Kagome responded, leaning into his touch.

“No. No.” He felt himself choking on his words as he quickly became overwhelmed again. His mind shifted right back to the sight of Kagome being thrown over the edge, her scream, and he pinched his eyes shut. “You fell. It wasn’t like a few feet, kid. I know you didn’t hit the water gently. Tell me where you’re hurt.” He all but demanded.

“Inuyasha, I’m fine.” She insisted, pushing herself passed his hands to hug her arms around his waist. “Yes, I hit hard, but I don’t feel any pain.”

“Your adrenaline levels are still up then.” He excused.

“And, if you’re right and they die down, I’ll let you know.”

“Kagome, I -“ Why couldn’t he say anything? What did he even want to say? What came first? His concern or his apology? His plead for forgiveness or his admittance that he didn’t deserve it? “Let’s head out. I want to get to an inn before nightfall.”

“Inuyasha?” Kagome asked, worried as he pulled away from her and crossed the terrain to grab the bag she’d shrugged off earlier. He didn’t stop, didn’t try to return to his incomplete sentence, didn’t even turn to acknowledge her. She watched as the hanyou kneeled down in front of the bag, pulling out his robe before forcefully yanking the drawstring shut.

“Here,” He offered, setting the bag down at their feet before holding the crimson robe out for her to put on. “This will keep you warm for the meantime.”

Kagome hesitated. Something was wrong. Of course, something was wrong. This must have been just as terrifying for him as it was for her. But, how could she help? She could tell with the hardened expression on his face that he was choosing to shut the problem out.

Still, she tried again. “Inuyasha, what is it? Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I just did.” He sighed. “I want to get to an inn before nightfall.”

“Inuyasha.” Kagome felt that if she pushed him right now, he’d only close off to her more. What he was truly feeling was being hidden behind this wall of an excuse. But, if she prodded, especially too soon, it could have negative repercussions, and Inuyasha didn’t deserve the pressure at the moment. So, with a heavy exhale, she dropped her shoulders, her own defenses, and pushed her arms through the robe he’d been holding open all this time.

“God, baby, you’re shaking.” Inuyasha commented quietly, rubbing her arms as she swaddled up in the garment.

“I’m just a little cold.” She confessed, tucking her hands within the long sleeves. “I’m alright, though.”

“Let me carry you. My body heat will help, okay?”

“If I say no, you’re going to argue with me, aren’t you?” Kagome pursed her lips.

“Yes.”

“Alright.” She sighed, taking the bag to strap over her shoulders as he picked it up.

The hanyou crossed the rock, picking up his de-transformed sword from the ground and sliding it back into its sheath, turning to find Kagome picking up her bow and one surviving arrow. All the others must have been washed away.

“We’ll get you some more.” He promised in way of reassurance.

“Yeah.” She nodded, slipping it back into her empty quiver and securing her bow over her shoulder.

Inuyasha kneeled in front of her, his hands finding her upper thighs as she straddled his back, and as he stood, he hiked her up for better support, clasping his hands beneath her rear so she didn’t droop at all. The dampness of her shirt began to soak through his own, but he didn’t mind. He knew with how quick his blood was pumping right now, his flesh was running hot, so it would help her tremendously.

Kagome cuddled close as he got back onto the path, molding against his frame, and just as a shiver coursed down his spine from her warm breath on his neck, a small kiss in the same spot had his heart jolting. Inuyasha turned his head her way a little, trying to see her affectionate gaze from the side and was gifted with a delicate peck on his cheek. That lump had returned to his throat at full force, making it impossible to speak even if he wanted to. This wasn’t enough for him. Inside, he felt like fire and ice were at war with one another. His mind was racing, and the crunch of the earth beneath his feet couldn’t mute Kagome’s scream of terror that echoed in his ears. Would he ever be able to forget that? Would he ever be able to move on from that look in her eyes? Those tears he saw? He had her in his arms, she was kissing him, and Inuyasha was still weighted with the ungodly fear that he’d lost her for good.

Maybe tending to her comfort tonight would help his heart understand that she was actually okay. Maybe personally seeing to her wounds, if any, and watching over her as she slept would silence this horrible feeling once and for all.

Dusk was disappearing into the shadows of the night, but thankfully, Inuyasha’s nose told him they weren’t far at all from civilization. There was a town up ahead, and by the amount of people he could hear and smell, it was a decently-sized one. Which meant there would definitely be an inn of some sort.

Kagome’s shivering had died down substantially. She was completely relaxed against his back, and if it weren’t for the gentle massage she was giving to one of his shoulders right now, he’d have guessed she’d fallen asleep.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, tone husky.

“Comfy.” Kagome whispered.

Inuyasha chuckled. “We’re near a town. You okay to walk?”

“Mhm.” She hummed, kissing his shoulder when he kneeled to let her down.

Immediately, the hanyou took her hand, threading their fingers and keeping her close to his frame. It was only a little further before the village came into view. There was a tavern near the entrance; he could smell the ale and hear the lively conversation. There were women giggling, but he knew the fake laughter of a harlot trying to make her wage while slapping away the hand of a man who was too cheap to pay.

The sign for the bar didn’t include an inn, and for that, Inuyasha found himself a little grateful. It was too goddamn rowdy, and he really didn’t want Kagome anywhere near the amount of drunken men he knew were inside. Not with how they were currently perusing over the women. Offering themselves or not, the men still treated them as objects, and if anyone was audacious enough to even look at Kagome in the same disrespect, Inuyasha couldn’t guarantee he’d be able to control his reactions.

Down the street a little ways, there was a sign that guided them. Certain shops were to their right, so he rubbed his thumb over the back of Kagome’s hand as he led her down the new road. Finding it, he opened the door for her, allowing her to enter through first before following her to the reception counter and ringing the bell.

A small woman came out with a cheerful smile on her face, swiftly being replaced by a look of startle. Her green eyes widened and her grin drooped into a grimace of concern, brows pinching together in overt question.

Fuck.

Inuyasha had completely forgotten about the dried blood on his face, and how disheveled they both must have looked right now.

“Sorry,” Kagome quickly spoke, keeping her tone friendly. “I know what you’re thinking - holy crap, what the hell happened to them? - right? Yeah, this is my fault. I’m super clumsy, and unfortunately, today my boyfriend was on the other end of my hiccup. Do you happen to have a room?” She asked, feigning believable shame with her lie.

“Oh my goodness, are you two okay?” The girl asked, feeling comfortable enough now to approach the counter and bring out the guest book.

Kagome dropped her head against the table top in embarrassment, and Inuyasha was almost shocked by how well she was pulling off this ruse. She never lied this well with him. She was a stammering mess that looked to the side and fidgeted her fingers, and it was so fucking easy to tell that she never meant a thing she was saying in that moment. But, here? It was like she was a master at the art.

“He was trying to teach me how to shoot a bow and arrow. Somehow, I lost my balance, fell backward into the river, and my arrow nipped his forehead. I lost all of my other arrows in the process, and he had to come chasing after me in the current.”

The innkeeper’s bewildered stare transferred to Inuyasha where he pressed his lips into a tight line and rolled his eyes, nodding to confirm the story. “She sucks.”

“I said I was sorry.” Kagome grumbled.

“Yeah, well, ‘sorry’ isn’t getting us home tonight.” He remarked dully.

She pouted at the innkeeper as if the doe-eyed look was enough to ask her question for a room again. With a sympathetic, and slightly humored, smile, the woman complied, quieting her giggle as she looked at her guest book.

“I’ve got a few open, so you have nothing to worry about.” She said, grabbing her pen. “May I have your names?”

“I’m Sango.” Kagome fibbed. It just felt like a horrible idea to give out their real names right now. If they were going to lay low, then Kagome and Inuyasha needed to stay off the radar. Naraku was after them, and Kagome was presumably dead. Just in case he sent any underlings in the surrounding areas to look, it was a better idea to keep their true identities under wraps. “This is Miroku.”

The innkeeper filled in their names under the room number they were to occupy, then gestured for them to wait a quick moment as she shuffled to the back to grab their room key.

“You’re brilliant.” Inuyasha commented quietly, petting her hair. “You really covered for us there, kid.”

Kagome gave a meager grin in return, one not as bright as he wished he could see, leaning into his touch. Her eyes weren’t meeting his. They were upwards, on his forehead, staring at the gash behind his bags that was already beginning to heal. The innkeeper returned, attaining Kagome’s attention once more, and offered to show them to their room, but she was quick to respectfully decline.

“We can find our way, don’t worry.” She held her hand out for the key to be place in her opened palm, smiling appreciatively at the woman.

Just as they began to walk toward the hall, the innkeeper cleared her throat to catch their attention. Inuyasha met her gaze when she pulled out a small bandage from beneath the counter, sliding it his way over the countertop. With a noticeable grimace, she lightly gestured toward his head. There was a moment of awkward silence before Inuyasha pressed his lips into a tight line, reaching for the offered bandage and taking note of how tiny it was.

“Uh, thanks.” He said anyway, tipping the bandage to her. As if it stood a chance at covering even half of his wound. It’s the thought that counts, he supposed.

Locating the number on the door that their key was associated with, Kagome unlocked it and led the way in, hearing the click as Inuyasha bolted it behind him. She turned around, half expecting him to be ready to let his defenses down, but his shoulders didn’t loosen, nor did his guarded expression quite give. Something heavy was on his mind. Kagome had been terrified, but now she was relieved. She’d thought, at least by now, that Inuyasha would be, too.

The half demon strode past her with nothing but a sweet touch on her shoulder, locating the bathroom and stepping through the door. As Kagome shrugged everything off of her shoulders, including Inuyasha’s crimson robe, laying it neatly at the bottom of the mattress, she heard the water start running from the faucet of the bath.

“Kagome, come here.” He called, and she followed, stepping through to see the tub filling up with hot water.

“Wash up.” He instructed. “Get warm. I’ll be out here if you need anything.”

“Wait.” Kagome said, grabbing onto the rolled up sleeve of his shirt. “Let me at least clean your head.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll do it later.” Inuyasha declined with more of a disapproving grunt than anything.

Her grip on him didn’t slacken, and she gave an obstinate tug on his bicep. “I’ll take a bath, but only if you let me do this. Come on, it’ll only take a minute. While the tub is filling.”

“Kid, stop worrying about it. It’s closed up already. My head clipped a rock; it’s nothing serious, so calm down about it.”

“Stop.” Her brows furrowed in a slight, reprimanding scowl. “You’re shutting me out, I can already tell. I do it too, remember? It drives you crazy. Why won’t you let me help you? Why is this suddenly a one-way street?”

Inuyasha had stiffened. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it. His mind was an unforgiving place right now, and all he really wanted was a minute alone to gather himself. To sort out the jumbled thoughts he had stabbing him. It was hard to think rationally at the moment, it was difficult to be himself with that pleading look he’d seen on her face replaying behind the darkness of his eyelids every time he blinked. Kagome really wasn’t asking for a lot. He shouldn’t be denying her anything right now. If cleaning the blood off his face was what she wanted, then he had no place turning her down whatsoever.

With an exhale that he used to shove his grievances aside, Inuyasha relented, turning around to sit on the rim of the tub. Kagome reached for the washcloths on the high shelf, pushing to the tips of her toes and snagging a couple. She threw one to float in the water to clean herself with later and unfolded the other, dipping it under the running faucet to wet a portion. Gently, she pushed aside his bangs, lightly tapping the area around the gash to test how sensitive it was. Inuyasha didn’t flinch or pull away, his brows didn’t even twitch in pain, but instead his hands made home on the backs of her thighs, pulling her closer to stand between his legs.

“Does it hurt?” She asked.

Inuyasha gave a small shake of his head, caressing his thumbs over her pants. She could feel his fingers shaking slightly, feel the hot breath he sighed out against her chest. He seemed sad. Kagome had never seen Inuyasha sad before. She’d seen him sympathetic, and maybe sad for her, but never like this. She’d never seen him seemingly so burdened that his shoulders slumped this way. She could be wrong. But, she knew him. And, this version of him was out of character.

Kagome respected his silence, though. She softly rubbed the washcloth over his face, cleaning the dried blood, the dirt, the sweat. He wasn’t lying, it wasn’t as bad as the amount of blood had made it seem. It was already closed, a lightly-shaded bruise marring the immediate area around. With a tender kiss to the center of Inuyasha’s forehead, she dropped the dirtied washcloth to the floor and let go of his bangs, lingering with her affection. His large hands gripped her thighs firmly, a shuddering exhale leaving his lips, and he tilted his chin upward, searching for her own.

His earlier assumption was correct. Kissing her was going to lead to his downfall. Kagome brushed a delicate kiss to his mouth, and it felt as if his heart swelled with unbridled emotions he couldn’t even name. What was he feeling right now? Why did he want to fall apart?

“We made a deal.” He managed to say without waver, planting a scant peck against her bottom lip. “Get warm. Please.”

“Okay.” She breathed with a little nod, allotting him space to stand by taking a step back.

Inuyasha shut the door behind him to give her deserved privacy, find it becoming increasingly harder now to hold anything together. Inuyasha was suffocating in his own thoughts. It was all hitting him like a bull charging at full force, knocking the wind from his diaphragm only to turn around and do it again and again as soon as he was back on his feet.

Kagome is dead, Inuyasha!

That was part of the problem. A percentage of him had believed Sesshomaru when he’d shouted that before. She was thrown off a cliff. He’d never gotten a complete look over the edge. There was no guarantee she’d actually landed in the water; Kagome could have hit jagged mountainside, rock, or landed on the bank, and he was terrified he’d have peeked over then to see her body. Even if he was right and she did land in the river, the current was so heavy that she could have easily drowned. It could have dragged her under, made it impossible to come up for air, and then her lungs would fill with water.

That was it.

Not only was Inuyasha beating himself up for failing to save her.

But, a portion of his heart had already broken at the consideration of her death.

He truly had thought he’d lost her.

Inuyasha fell short of the cushioned chair along the far wall. His back dragged down against the wood, and he found himself sitting on the floor, his legs bent into him, his elbows planted on his knees while he buried his head into the palms of his hands. He should be happy that she was alive, but it was difficult to register that when his heart had already shattered. How could he have let this happen? How could he have fallen short when she needed him?

Kagome wrung her clean hair, noticing a ripe, developing bruise on the inside of her bicep as she lifted it up. How did she even get that one? She’d scrubbed a couple on her legs thinking they were just dirt that was coated heavily, but when she realized the marks weren’t budging and the dull pain wasn’t caused from the aggressive swiping of the washcloth, she left them alone. Thankfully, most of her bruises would be covered by clothing, and it wouldn’t increase Inuyasha’s worriment. Only a few were relatively bad, broken blood vessels and all, but as of right now, they weren’t that painful, and she’d put them away beneath her shirt.

Her shirt that was in her backpack.

Her backpack that was left in the bedroom.

Crap.

Carefully, she reached for her towel, drying herself off as she stepped out of the tub. She ran it vigorously through the ends of her hair, expelling as much moisture as she could until a slight frizziness began to show, and then she brushed her fingers through to lazily sort out her waves. There was still a good chance she could grab her bag without Inuyasha really noticing anything. All she’d have to tell him was to look away, and her hanyou wouldn’t hesitate to comply. He never compromised any of her boundaries, so she was confident she could get away with this if she was quick enough.

Wrapping the towel securely around her body and fastening it at her chest, Kagome opened the door, peeking out to make sure Inuyasha wasn’t in immediate sight. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel worse with her bruises. They happened. She was a human, they were more common on her flesh than his. Especially, when you’re smacked around by a demon tentacle once or twice. But, he was so overprotective sometimes, and it would kill her if any of her bruises made his shoulders sag farther.

The room was still dark, and she heard no movement come from within. Stepping out, Kagome looked around where the bathroom light allowed her eyes to focus, but still she didn’t spot him.

“Inuyasha?”

The hanyou was torn out of his toxic state by the sound of her voice, and he jumped to his feet, rushing across the room to her as he feared she needed him. “Yeah. I’m here. Are you okay?”

“I’m -“ Along the inside of her ribcage, right beside her sternum, it felt as though something unwelcome slithered its way down. A dense sensation was sprouting within the cavity of her chest, enveloping her heart quicker than ever before, and her expression, whatever existed of it, crumbled. Kagome watched as a single tear glided down Inuyasha’s cheek, leaving a trail from the brimming lid of his golden eye. “Baby?” She spoke so softly it was hardly heard.

“What’s wrong?” Inuyasha’s hands were trembling so bad, he’d clenched his fists for a semblance of control.

Without another word, Kagome cautiously extended her arm, tenderly wiping away the tear when he didn’t bother to pull away. It was as if he didn’t even realize he was crying. And, when she left her fingers there to cup his jaw, to caress, he folded.

Inuyasha stepped back, finding the edge of the bed and dropping down to sit on it. It was incredible how shaken up he was over this entire thing. To watch her fall, to hear her scream, to think of the unimaginable, it was his worst fear come true. He shouldn’t even bother trying to hide this from her anymore. It took more effort than it was worth, more effort than he could even manage to put forward right now.

“Inuyasha, will you please talk to me?” Kagome tried, filling the small gap that was created. His crying had to be of the saddest sort she’d ever observed. His face didn’t crinkle, a frown was barely present, and tears streaked his cheeks to speak his mind in ways he wasn’t yet able to. It was like those emotions riddling it were so overwhelming, they were impossible to process, and his expression had no other choice but to be devoid of anything but a blank slate while his heart attempted to decompress enough to breathe.

She was so gentle as she cleaned his cheeks, the swipe of her thumbs a ghost of a touch. Amber eyes fluttered up to her and Kagome swore they were the brightest she’d ever seen them. It was like his sorrow added a beautiful illumination the firelight couldn’t rival, reflecting with a glow that could only come from within, and while it was stunning, Kagome never wanted to get used to seeing them like this.

“If you don’t want to talk, I understand. That’s okay. If you aren’t ready, I’ll just sit with you.” She whispered, biting her bottom lip.

Inuyasha reached forward, wrapping his arms around Kagome’s waist and burying his face in her stomach. Her scent was no longer masked by anything, and he took deep breaths of it, hoping the sweet aroma would work to calm some fucking part of him. He could hear her heartbeat, he could feel her warmth, her fingers were gingerly stroking his ear while her other hand was sweetly placed at the side of his head, and it did work to sooth the tiniest piece of him, but he was still so inconsolably upset. He was upset with himself, with Naraku, with the situation, with the world.

“I thought I’d lost you.” He finally said, his voice raspy and gruff.

Kagome’s chest deflated. She hadn’t realized that was on his mind. She hadn’t considered that maybe he’d been scared enough to ever jump to that conclusion. “I’m so sorry.”

“No.” The spit Inuyasha swallowed went down thickly, almost painfully. He pulled away, begrudgingly so, shaking his head when he shifted her to the side so he could stand. He found himself pacing the room, frustrated, his chest rising and falling heavily as his anxiety went right back to the way it had been. “Do not apologize. Don’t. That’s not what I want to hear.”

“Then, what do you want to hear?” Kagome carefully asked, keeping her tone level.

“Nothing. Nothing, Kagome. Nothing I’ve tried telling myself has made me feel better. I know you’re alive. I know you’re alright. I can see you, I can smell you, I can feel you, but god fucking dammit, all I can hear is your scream.” He ranted, expressing himself with flailing hands and ambling feet.

Kagome watched him, respecting his space, respecting his temper, keeping herself still so as not to agitate his current state. It was finally coming out. She hoped he yelled. Screamed. She wanted him to cry some more so his mind wasn’t so tainted by the dark thoughts that dragged him under. Telling him she was okay wasn’t going to help right now. Not like it usually did. This, what they’d gone through, was more than that. He wasn’t worried about a scrape on her knee, or a cut on her shoulder. He wasn’t freaking out over a demon sneaking up on her, or even overexertion of her powers. Inuyasha had witnessed her being flung aside like a rag doll. Inuyasha had to watch her be thrown away like a piece of garbage while he was pinned down, helpless, and it had to be scarring. She wasn’t the only one affected by that. Of course, she wasn’t. It was traumatizing to the both of them in different manners, and both of which deserved validation.

“I -“ Thereafter his powerful statement, none of his words would come fluidly anymore. Inuyasha was growing increasingly emotional, shaking, his bottom lip quivering like he hadn’t felt since he was a broken child.

“I failed.” The last of his sentence trailed off into a whisper when he felt like his heart was being shredded. Like, it was poorly drawn on a piece of parchment and ripped from top to bottom, left to right, repeat, repeat, repeat.

“I -“ Another pause as his eyes brimmed with tears again. They were hot. Unfamiliar.

“Kagome.” Her name was spoken dolefully.

“I couldn’t get to you.” That part was barely audible. “I couldn’t get to you, and you fell.”

“I don’t - I don’t even know why you’d apologize for being a victim.” Inuyasha said, pressing the heels of his hands to his temples. “When I - I don’t -“

He looked at her with a pleading desperation. “I don’t even know how to ask for your forgiveness.”

Forgiveness? Forgiveness for what? For being in a position beyond his will? Did he really blame himself for the harm she was dealt? Was her near death situation placed on his shoulders for him to bear?

“What are you talking about?” Kagome reached.

“Kagome, you almost fucking died! I didn’t save you! That’s what I’m talking about!”

“But, that’s -“

“No, don’t do that! I know what you’re about to say! I don’t want to hear that it’s not my fault, because that’s not going to mean anything to me!” He snapped. “If it weren’t for Koga, you’d - fuck!”

Kagome stiffened from the amount of internal pain she could see Inuyasha was in. Did she even stand a chance at making this easier on him? Would she be able to talk some sense into him?

“If it weren’t for Koga,” Inuyasha tried continuing. “I don’t know where you’d be, kid. And, it shouldn’t have happened that way. It’s me you’re supposed to be able to rely on. You can’t convince me to be okay with the way things played out, because nothing’s preventing me from feeling like I fucking failed you. I was the one that promised to protect you. Not Koga. Not Sesshomaru. It was me. I told you - I told you - that I can’t fucking lose you, Kagome. I didn’t just say that to make you feel good, or because it sounded like a pleasant thing to add to the moment. I wasn’t even one-upping you. I was telling the truth. I can’t. I can’t do it. And, yet, no matter what I did, I wasn’t strong enough to get to you in time.”

“Can I speak?”

“No.” Because, she would only oppose him, and he wasn’t receptive to hearing her positive point of view just yet. “I already know you’re going to contradict what I say. You don’t see things the way I see them and vise versa. Just listen, alright? Try to understand where I’m coming from.”

Kagome gave the smallest nod, hugging her arms close to her body for a semblance of comfort. It was hard not being able to help while he was basically calling out for it. To stand by idly and watch him break down was so painful, but she knew it was merely a fraction of what he was struggling with right now. So, she didn’t argue.

“I know it’s not my fault that this happened. But, it’s impossible to believe that the prevention of it wouldn’t have been. I made you a promise and I dropped the ball when you needed me most. And, then you were gone. I’ve never been more afraid in my life, kid. Not once. And, when Sesshomaru told me there was no way you could have survived the fall, I fucking believed him. He only said it to get me to fight the puppet instead of abandoning it altogether to go after you, but that doesn’t change the fact that I ditched hope so quickly. God, it hurts, Kagome!” Inuyasha grabbed his chest. His heart. “It hurts so fucking bad! You’re right in front of me, but this feeling wont go away! I don’t know what to do! Please - just - please tell me you forgive me.”

Hot tears spilled from Kagome’s eyes as she broke with his plea, but she fervently shook her head to reject it. “No. I don’t want to.”

“Fuck.” He whimpered huskily.

“It would be like admitted that I believe you did something wrong, when I literally saw you doing everything you could. I don’t agree with you, Inuyasha. I don’t blame you for anything.”

“You need to stop that! This vision you have of me is deluded! I swear, it’s like you think I’m perfect or something!”

“Far from it!” Kagome quickly objected.

“Look at the situation, kid!”

“I was there too, Inuyasha!”

“Fucking shit! It’s like the moment you fell in love with me, you started viewing me with these rose-colored glasses!”

“Oh, shut up! That’s not the case, at all! You’re just trying to get me to second guess myself! I am not naive!” Kagome stomped her foot, glowering at the hanyou across the room. She was angry, and sad, and so badly did she want him to hear her, and she wasn’t leaving this spot until he did. “What are you looking for!? A list of all of my complaints about your personality so that I can prove you wrong!? I’m not going to feed into it! I’m not deluded or whatever else you think I am just because I disagree with you, Inuyasha! Like I said, I was there! I was a part of the whole ordeal! You need to look at the bigger picture! I understand that you feel you should have been responsible for saving me, but circumstances said otherwise! Koga came in, and I’m lucky that he did! You’re right! We don’t know where I’d be! But, I didn’t look at Koga and think, ‘this should have been Inuyasha pulling me out of the river.’ Not even close. He saved my life! He and Sesshomaru helped! So, why is that a gateway for you to criticize yourself just because it wasn’t you? You’re not a god, you can’t expect yourself to do the impossible all on your own! I’m here either way! I’m right here! Inuyasha, I swear I’m okay. You didn’t lose me.”

That war he felt raging inside of him was an ongoing battle, spears being tossed and puncturing his organs to cause internal bleeding. He heard her, but it was still so difficult to rationalize through the haze of his brain. Instead of saying anything in return, he found he could only chew on the inside of his bottom lip, his gaze falling to the ground.

“Do you think Kikyo’s death was my fault?” Kagome asked, her voice dropping several octaves.

Instantly, Inuyasha’s vibrant eyes shot up to meet her, an incredulous expression twisting his features. “Of course, I don’t.”

“Good.” She breathed. “Because, this is sort of the same thing. So, I know how difficult it is to remove yourself from the situation to see things from a different perspective, or even find reasonability somewhere out there. If you need to blame yourself right now, then okay. I get it. I can wait you out, I don’t mind. But, I won’t partake. I won’t give you forgiveness that you don’t need because it would be empty, and I feel like that would be more damaging in the long run. I can’t hurt you like that. I can give you literally anything else, anything you want or need, but not that.”

His heart thudded. Maybe rejecting his request was exactly what he needed. What sort of murky waters would invade his chest if Kagome had basically validated the fault he’d put on himself? Imagining her forgiving him, agreeing that he should have been the one to save her, applied a different kind of weight he hadn’t expected, when he’d initially thought it’d lift it all. His heart still ached, horribly so, but he felt the best thing for him would be to kill the distance. He deserved to hold Kagome, to physically confirm that he hadn’t lost her like he’d foolishly thought. He wanted to kiss her again, to feel the pain that so fiercely demanded to be felt, so that her intimacy could wash it all away - be it little-by-little or all at once. It didn’t matter. This was what he needed. She was what he needed.

“You. Give me you.” Inuyasha crossed the room with a passionate stride, watching a small, hopeful smile of relief appear on her mouth just before he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Give me all of you.”

Kagome stumbled back against the wall, trusting his hold on her as he pinned her there. His lips found hers with an insatiable hunger, his hands snaking up her sides to cradle her jaw and hold her to him. With a small nip to her bottom lip, Inuyasha slipped his tongue into her mouth, delighted by the way she grabbed his belt and pulled him closer. The fire inside of him was suddenly beating out the ice. Cold was a thing of the past when he swallowed a tiny moan that escaped her throat and when he felt her fingers curl further against the waistband of his trousers, holding him against her.

He traveled smoothly down Kagome’s cheek where he gently nipped her jaw, giving a small nudge with his nose to extend her neck so he had more room to play. Little kisses were peppered down the length, her flesh warm, soft, inviting his mouth to give more attention, and she released a tantalizing sigh in response. Inuyasha tensed, pausing at the curve where her shoulder met and hovering so that his hot breath bounced off her skin and back against his chin. His pace dramatically slowed then. This wasn’t going to be rushed. If Kagome didn’t get it yet, she was going to understand with this act just how much he loved her.

The hanyou placed a hand on her hip to squeeze her soft curve while the fingers of his other curled in her hair, tilting her head back. He began a burning trail of kisses back up the side of her neck, bringing a silky gasp from her opened lips and a twitch of her fingers at his pelvis. She could push him away at any time, but Kagome was actively pulling him closer, and the way she held his belt in such a territorial manner had butterflies flying through his stomach. His lips were searching for that sweet spot, incorporating little laps from his tongue until her body tensed and her gasp was shuddered. He felt her flesh grow hotter, a new scent meeting his nose, and it was nearly impossible not to instantly become intoxicated by it. It went straight to his head. He felt light on his feet and the only way he could stabilize himself was to press further into her hip, his mouth sucking a mark above her clavicle.

The moan she released was heavenly, and he swore he heard the hint of his name mixed within. Her hands went to travel up his waist, his abdomen, but always seemed to snap right back to his belt. It almost appeared like both a homing zone to grasp onto, and a way to make sure he never moved far from her. Already, Kagome’s heart was beating hard. He could hear it, practically feel it against his own chest. His wasn’t fairing much different. Inuyasha felt as if his might burst when he actually heard his name fluidly leave her lips.

He released the wonderfully sore spot on Kagome’s neck, hovering just above it so that his satin breath over the wet area would cause a mind-numbing shiver to course over every inch of her skin. Her hanyou placed a sweet kiss to it, let go of her hair, and then brought his face back up to her own, their noses barely touching. It almost seemed like he was taking a moment to admire her, the backs of his fingers softly stroking her cheeks, cleaning the stains her recent tears had left behind. Her eyelashes fluttered closed as he placed a kiss to her forehead, his hands dragging down the sides of her throat, teasing over her collarbone, and ending at the towel that was fastened around her chest.

He loosened the damp garment, holding it around her himself to see if she’d object, and though she’d stiffened minutely, her breath hitching, Kagome didn’t stop him. Inuyasha moved slow, not quite allowing the towel to just drop to the floor. He opened it while he rubbed his nose against hers, feeling her breath, sliding the cloth down her body until it curved below her ass where he released it to fall completely. He pressed his lips to hers, feeling her skin beneath his palms as he grabbed her bare waist, pulling her flush against him.

His kiss was deep, otherworldly, breathtaking, and as he firmed his hold on her and pulled her away from the wall, turning Kagome and guiding her backwards until her legs hit the bed, she found her hands had finally let go of his belt, mindlessly following instinct as they pulled his shirt from within the tuck of his pants. Inuyasha laid her down gently, adjusting her so her head hit the pillows as he crawled on top, and her tongue betrayed her, releasing a small mewl as she tried again to pull his shirt up his torso. Finally, he got the hint, smiling into his kiss before he pulled away and yanked his shirt off, tossing it to the floor to be forgotten.

Having leaned back, Inuyasha’s eyes glanced down for his first good look at Kagome’s body. He couldn’t help but sit back on his legs to take her in, captivated by each inch that was exposed to him. Her breasts were supple, nipples hard and calling his name. Her stomach was toned from the amount of action she saw, the training she did, and he made a mental note to follow the slightly defined line at the top of her abdominals with his lips later. What he found he adored most was that she was still soft in some places. She was healthy. The bottom of her tummy where it met her pelvis had a little curve where her organs were properly protected by muscle and fat. Her hips had a roundness to them as the plush of her bottom was pushed outward, and he wanted to sink his fingers into it all. Most enthralling was the thighs propped at either side of him. They were thick. Muscle and softness that beckoned his mouth, his tongue, his teeth, and Inuyasha couldn’t resist the way his hand caressed over them, gliding upward toward her stomach, her waist, and halting instantly when he felt the tiniest flinch from her.

He’d been so hypnotized that he hadn’t even taken note of the bruises littering her skin. Beneath his palm was a dark red contusion, a shade of purple vaguely notable in the shadows of their room. It was large, extending from the curve of her waist to the edge of her ribcage, and he knew it was caused from the tentacle that had wrapped around her. It brought a heavy sensation to sit in his chest, but he pushed it aside, ghosting his fingers over the mark.

Inuyasha glanced up to Kagome’s face, her cheeks a blistering scarlet as she chewed her bottom lip. She was shy, her blush invading the surface of her chest as even that had hued pink under his eyes. He grinned, crawling back over her and saving her bottom lip from her teeth as he hovered just above, making her anticipate his kiss.

“I’ll be careful.” Inuyasha breathed. “I wont hurt you. You trust me?”

Kagome immediately nodded. She wasn’t afraid, and more than anything, she’d learned to love the sense of vulnerability with Inuyasha. Time and time again, he proved to cherish it. He’d taken such good care of her, so she knew she had nothing to worry about right now. It was impossible not to be nervous, especially under such keen observation, but to watch his smile appear had her heart beating a rhythm that would have even the most skilled dancers out of breath.

She pushed herself an inch upward to close the gap, stealing the kiss Inuyasha had hung over her as her own. She trusted him. She trusted him with even the most delicate pieces of herself. When he’d requested all of her in a desperate reach for comfort, Kagome was nothing short of thrilled. Obliging would be an honor. To be with him was all she wanted, so to hear it was what he’d wanted as well, to have reassurance even when she didn’t need it, it gave her a sense of happiness she understood she was lucky to understand.

Inuyasha groaned into her mouth as Kagome pulled him down against her, her whisper of a moan from the enrapturing heat of his chest swallowed. More. She wanted more of him. All of him. Everything he was willing to give her, she wanted to treasure for as long as she could. One of his hands found her breast, and the way it so softly curved over her shape, trailing over her budded nipple had her upper body arching for more.

Again, his lips made their way down her neck, this time the opposite side as before, taking their time in teasing her sensitive flesh. It was like an unfounded heat was overtaking her, overwhelming her senses. Her breathing was growing heavy as he ground into her hips, the rough texture of his pants against her inner thighs a welcomed chafing she wasn’t eager to end. His tongue above her clavicle had a high-pitched gasp leaving her mouth, his thumb caressing back and forth over her nipple causing her hips to jolt against his. She could feel his hard length then, how his stomach flexed in response, but as she raked her fingers down his side to find his belt again, Inuyasha snagged her wrist midway, jerking it away and pinning it above her head.

“Don’t you dare.”

Kagome giggled at his husky tone, the feeble threat he couldn’t even hold steady, finding she quite liked the restraint. She felt his smile as he pressed kisses against her collarbone, her chest, her breasts, lingering with his wet trail as he seemingly relished in the soft tissue.

If his calloused hands felt this good against her nipple, she wanted to know what his molten tongue would feel like. She wanted it so bad, but her words were lost in her baited breaths. Kagome couldn’t even try to communicate, entranced in the way he was seemingly teasing her. It was like he was eating her up, sucking his mark into her skin, nibbling softly and bringing her to arch into him. Inuyasha was pressed firmly against her, granting her a small grind of his hips, and he trailed his tongue from the underside of her breast, finally flicking her erect nipple with a heat that felt so much different than anywhere else.

The moan that escaped Kagome’s mouth was desperate, and if her thoughts were sober, she’d have been humiliated. It was like fuel for Inuyasha, though. After she cracked, he took her into his mouth, flicking his tongue in mind-numbing ways, suckling lightly, and then pulling off of her with a pop of his lips.

“Baby.” Kagome mewled.

To hear her call him that was ethereal. The endearment left her tongue like silk, meeting his ears with a heavenly warmth that could have caused him to melt right then and there. His name in that soft coo of a tone was to die for, but this? This was to live for. He wanted to experience it a hundred more times just like that. He wanted to hear it stuttered in her dreamy state. He wanted it to get to the point where the endearment was lost in her sighs, but still there to linger in the nonexistent space between them.

Inuyasha kissed a path from one breast to the other, engulfing the opposite in just as much affection as he took to massaging the one his mouth had just been all over. Kagome’s breathing was deep, her upper body rising into him to seek more attention, and the broken whimper she released as he swirled his tongue around her nipple almost caused him to crumble. It was like she was shamelessly begging for more in a manner that required no articulation. He could give her that. He would oblige. Inuyasha was going to absolutely worship this woman until she was shaking.

Her pelvis rolled into his own, and he groaned, popping off of her nipple to reach back up for her mouth. Her lips were lax, molding against his and opening for his tongue as it glided through to massage her own. Her whines tasted exquisite, the warmth of her fingers curling around the back of his neck was divine. Inuyasha breathed her in, her scent so much stronger than he’d ever experienced, and stars flickered behind the lids of his eyes.

Languidly, he dragged his fingers down her belly, grazing the backs of his nails over the space between each hip. The moan she shuddered was earnestly swallowed by him, fueling his slow, leisurely movements as he teased the sensitive skin. The way he softly touched her, raking almost methodically in the places that had her reacting positively, had a flurry igniting in his stomach. Her responses to him were more than he could have ever asked for. He couldn’t get enough of the sounds she made, causing his heart to do practiced somersaults in his chest. His ribcage was going to break if it beat any harder, but it was a fate he was more than willing to accept.

Gently, Inuyasha glided his hands down further, pulling away from their kiss so that he could feel her sharp gasp against his lips. He teased his fingers over the slit of her sex in a ghost of a touch. It was hot, and even though he’d whispered over her, he could still feel the slick lubrication her body naturally created. The next stroke of his fingers went within her folds, still stroking lightly while delighted by the searing heat of how wet she was. It scalded his middle finger in the most delectable way as he dragged the moisture over her vulva. Though delicately touched, he could already feel how swollen her clit had become, Kagome’s body reacting with a twitch that caused her pelvis to roll again.

With each glide of his fingers, Inuyasha gradually applied a little more pressure, coaxing her body into relaxing for him as she adjusted to the stimulation. He kissed her nose, her cheeks, just beneath her eyes, and her long eyelashes tickled him. He grinned as she tilted upward for attention on her mouth, and he complied with a meager drag of his lips against hers, planting the kiss on her chin. The sound of her laughter was breathy and heart stopping. It was better than music. It was contagious, and Inuyasha chuckled too.

“How do you like it done, baby?” He asked, his voice low since they were so close. There was a slight stiffness that appeared from rising shyness, and he felt the heat climb in her cheeks, but he tenderly kissed it away, continuing his ministrations along her pussy.

He understood her hesitation to answer, more than willing to wait as long as necessary. In the meantime, Inuyasha softly circled his finger around her clit, keeping the pressure light. Kagome gasped, and he relished in the way she arched into him that time, her breasts pressing into his bare chest, her skin sublime against his. With how responsive she was to him, even if she was too bashful to speak, he was sure if he followed her cues, he’d get it right and make her cum on his hand.

Kagome swallowed her nervousness, willing her body to relax again as she pushed her palm between them, following his arm down and gliding over the tops of his fingers. With a little flex, she slowed down his rhythm, keeping the circular motion that he’d gotten right from the start. The hanyou released a languid sigh, as if her guidance was exhilarating to him, and she couldn’t help but feed off of that.

She moved his hand around a bit to take him off of her clit, feeling a sense of overstimulation coming on too soon. He showed extreme caution with his claws, sensible to only use the pads of his fingers as he gently massaged the labia around, spreading her juices and gliding with smooth ease. As the bundle of nerves calmed slightly and she missed his touch, Kagome pulled his hand back toward it, allowing him to choose the rhythm. She mewled as he sent her head shoving back into the pillow, her breathing pattern escalating with the perfect circles he drew into her.

Inuyasha kissed her lips just in time to taste her heated moan. He was drunk on her scent, and every sound she made had his mind reeling. Again, she pushed him off of her clit, but her fingers were growing unsteady on top of his, finding she had to busy them by massaging his forearm while he teased the lips of her pussy until she calmed down. He pressed kiss after kiss down her jaw, her neck, leaving another mark around her sensitive clavicle that had her whimpering once more.

“Baby.” Kagome whispered at the top of her gasp, and Inuyasha grunted heatedly in response.

She reached for his wrist and eagerly pulled him against her clit, and he went back to his original pace. But, she wanted it faster. The spot he sucked into her skin had her mind racing, her blood pumping. She was hot all over, and her nerves pleaded for more.

This was nothing like the times when she’d explored herself. This felt surreal. The way her skin ignited in a rush was unearthly, the way her mind went blank was dreamlike. So soon, the stimulation had her climbing higher and higher, and a flame sparked in her core. Kagome adjusted his speed, increased his pressure a little, and her hands instantly flew to grasp onto anything she could. Her lungs were breathing an entirely new pattern, but when he took her nipple in his mouth, she nearly stopped breathing altogether. The flick of his tongue, the suck behind his lips, his fingers taking her cue and moving faster, Kagome was reduced to gasps now, her hips riding his hand.

“Yeah?” He teased, his breath hot against her wet breast. “Like that?”

Kagome could only moan in reply.

“Fuck, baby.” His voice was so low, she could hardly hear it, but she could feel the rumble coming from his chest, stimulating her further. Inuyasha licked the hard bud of her nipple, keeping the pace of his fingers steady. “Come on. Cum for me.”

The moment her nipple was back in his mouth, she was done for. Kagome sucked in a final breath to be held captive in her lungs, arching against him. She was incredibly taut while her lower body was twitching, a small spasm taking over her thigh, but her orgasm wasn’t ridden out yet. As it began its descent, Kagome’s muscles began shaking more, her hips following the slowing circles of Inuyasha’s fingers as she uncontrollably ground against him, exasperated moans leaving her throat that her hanyou moved up to swallow with open-mouthed kisses.

Kagome was on a high, her body coming down, legs collapsing against the hanyou, chest pumping deeply as she tried to catch her breath. Inuyasha chuckled gratifyingly, kissing his way south while his girl’s hands lazily found his biceps, his shoulders, trying to touch him anyway she could while she was in her inadvertent, dreamy state. He followed the line of her abdominals like he’d promised himself, finding it to be just as satisfying as he’d imagined, careful of the large bruise that marred her ribs. He nipped her waist, shifted to the other side, and left twice the amount of soft, little bite marks there. When he reached the soft part of her tummy, Inuyasha found himself burying his face in it, kissing so ravishingly that he almost lost his mind. Skillfully, he maneuvered Kagome’s thighs over his shoulders, all while she was still lethargic, tiny moans leaving her lips whenever he planted attention.

The hanyou flexed his fingers into the plush of her legs, immediately allured by how goddamn soft they were. Her inner thighs were the work of a saint, and he kissed his way up, unwilling to control his craving to suck and nibble the thicker areas near the apex. It was more sensitive the closer he got to her pussy, and as if he knew her body well enough to guess, Inuyasha pinned her down as he sucked his mark into her skin. Unsurprisingly, Kagome’s hips went to rock against him, her sharp gasp causing his ear to flick in delight. He transferred to the opposite side, kissing her inner thighs, licking, rewarding her mewls with gentle bites and little suckles that made his preferred name spill from her tongue.

Practically drooling from the aroma Kagome was giving off, Inuyasha didn’t want to deny himself anymore. With a broad stroke, he dragged his tongue up the length of her slit, causing Kagome to tense and gasp.

“Holy shit!” Her upper body practically rose off the bed with how hot his tongue was, with how different it felt from fingers. And, Inuyasha growled in response, repeating the motion. His hands went from her thighs to her hips, firmly squeezing into the plush that shaped her, but he didn’t get overzealous too quickly, which was what brought Kagome to melt back into the comforter. Her brown eyes had virtually rolled into the back of her head as his strokes got shallower, shifting into little sucks that he found balance with.

He didn’t go straight for her clit, nor did he concentrate on it when he gifted it with that exquisite attention from his tongue. Kagome was still high from her previous orgasm, but wasn’t overly sensitive anymore, so each glide had her fidgeting wonderfully.

Inuyasha was getting bolder as he got lost in her taste. He couldn’t even tell her how fucking good it was, instead putting his mouth to better use. He revisited his broad strokes for a moment, pinching his fingers into her hips when she moaned. While he did that, alternating so she didn’t lose herself too quickly, he found she rocked her pelvis into him. Like, she was riding his tongue. And, his eyes fluttered closed as his enthusiasm piqued.

He sucked on her clit, flicking the tip of his tongue against it, and Kagome’s hands landed on his head. He could tell she was trying to be gentle; his hair was still up and she was most likely worried about pulling it, but he didn’t want her to have that sort of control over herself. So, he sucked again, relishing in the feel of her fingers gripping him. Adventurously, Inuyasha dipped his tongue into her entrance, tasting her at the source, and her thighs squeezed against him. She was reduced to a whimpering mess all over again, unable to formulate words with even a single syllable.

Knowing she was close, Inuyasha grabbed her wrists and pinned them to her stomach, keeping her hips as still as he could as he lapped back up to her clit.

“Baby - Baby I’m - I’m -“

He growled in satisfaction as he sucked her into his mouth, treating the bundle of nerves to a rhythm of pressure that wouldn’t change until she was finished. Kagome’s body went unbelievably taut, her breath held in her chest, and he could feel her pussy convulsing as her orgasm sent her spiraling. The whine that finally escaped her lips was a sign of her comedown, and Inuyasha relented so he wouldn’t overstimulate her, kissing her pussy lips, her thighs, her pelvis her hips.

Just as he climbed his way back up her body, Kagome jerked him down into a kiss, her hands shaking but greedy as they explored his chest. This time, when she reached down for his belt, he didn’t stop her, pushing closer into her so she had a better chance at undoing the loop while she sent his mind reeling with her sloppy, hungry kisses. She was tasting herself on his tongue, swallowing his groans as she paused in undoing his pants to stroke his cock over the fabric. He could feel her thighs trembling with aftershocks of her recent orgasm, and it inadvertently caused his length to throb.

The moment she unlatched his pants, Inuyasha pushed them down and freed his dick, trying to remind himself that he couldn’t be too eager right now. He needed to slow down again, but his heart was pounding and he felt insatiably hot over every inch of his body.

He could feel that Kagome was cautious, but she broke away from the kiss to glance down between them, biting her swollen lip as she took him in. The way she licked her hand before carefully grabbing for it though, had him jolt. Inuyasha didn’t even get to revel in how fucking hot that was before she made his mind blank with the attention. He was so fucking hard that the softest touch from her fingers as she clumsily dragged them up his length had his core winding.

“Here,” He managed to groan, grabbing her hand and adjusting the pressure. The smallest, fearless smile appeared on Kagome’s lips and it was so close to being his undoing. He made her match a slow rhythm so he could keep an inkling of composure, his breathing increasing with her attention.

Allowing her to stroke him, Inuyasha pushed his pants from his legs, never moving far from her in his venture. Her mouth was red, evidence of his affection swelling the plush, and as if they beckoned him, he kissed her with an unmatched adoration. The hanyou removed her palm, leading her to hold his own as he used his free one to guide his cock. With skill, he glided it against her pussy, her slick heat bringing a hiss from his tongue. Again, he stroked himself against her and Kagome mewled, arching.

Begrudgingly pulling back from her, Inuyasha looked at where they’d be connected, spitting down onto his cock and massaging it over the head and length so there was a bit of lubrication coming from his end, too. Lining himself up, he crawled back over her, taking her hands in his and threading their fingers as he shoved her arms over her head.

Slowly, very slowly, he pushed inside of her, feeling her tense around him as her eyes pinched shut and a tiny whimper left her throat. Instantly, he stopped, rubbing his thumbs over her tightened hands, hushing her discomfort away, and kissing her cheek.

“Don’t stop.” Kagome said, willing her body to relax with baited breaths.

He chuckled from her ambition. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“No, it - it doesn’t hurt. It’s just a bit - um - tight. I’m okay.”

With another kiss to her jaw, Inuyasha complied, steadily pushing himself the rest of the way inside of her. He refused to move for a moment, planting kiss after kiss until she was properly adjusted to the intrusion.

“I love you.” He whispered, nuzzling his nose against her own.

Inuyasha practically felt the smile grow on her face, but it wasn’t of the sort he was expecting. Kagome was fighting back a fucking laugh, a tiny chortle muffled behind her lips.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to say that during something like this.” The dumbass giggled, and Inuyasha rolled his eyes, pursing his lips in half a grimace as he pinched her cheeks together.

“Shut up and say it back.”

Her giggle was infectious, bringing him to have to swallow his own laughter, a grin replacing his feigned scowl of annoyance.

“I love you more.” Kagome said with the brightest smile.

“Oh, you’re one of those.” He remarked.

As she gleefully nodded, Inuyasha stole a kiss, feeling all of the tension in her muscles dwindle away. With that, he gave a small rock of his hips, noticing her stiffen again, but her breath told him the discomfort wasn’t overwhelming.

Kagome had removed her hands from his to grab onto him, her legs hooked around his own as he carved a skillful, slow rhythm against her. There was less pressure now. The sensation was different, but it was growing increasingly incredible. Inuyasha had dropped his head to pepper her shoulder and neck in unending amounts of affection, and with a forceful grind, his pushed himself entirely inside of her. The moan she inadvertently released at that was deep, unintentionally loud, and she felt her hanyou clench rigidly.

Inuyasha was losing himself. She was clamping down around his cock, and her moans were making it impossible to focus. He was about to make sure she was okay, picking himself up a bit, when he observed the way his next grind had her head tossing back, her breath tantalizing and hot. The hanyou cupped her jaw, kissing her sloppily as he increased his pace a little, and Kagome seemed to melt beneath him. Her hands were traveling now, exploring him. For a minute, she’d placed them on his abdomen, feeling the way his muscles flexed with each thrust he gave, then she honed on his obliques and her nails teased his waist. She roamed around to his back, and at the same time that she lightly scratched him, she gently bit his bottom lip.

“Fuck, baby.” He moaned, accidentally bucking harder. Kagome pinched her lips together then, tensing unpleasantly, so he caught the cue, pulling back slightly to keep his gentle rhythm going and kissing her head apologetically.

It didn’t matter. He was still getting close. Her pussy was so wet, he was gliding in and out with practiced ease. It was like a succulent heat was licking up his shaft, teasing him with coaxing words and a tongue of satin.

“Fuck.” He grunted again, clinging to the plush of her thigh.

“More.” Kagome mewled. There was less grinding from him now, the roll of his hips bringing his cock all the way out to the tip, and then all the way back in. He was hitting something inside of her that had her legs twitching, and his groans had her hypersensitive to everything. “Baby, more. Please.”

She wanted to hear him in her ear. She wanted those growls to cause him to pin her down. She wanted the hand he held her thigh with to bruise his fingerprints into her flesh.

He couldn’t deny her. The butterflies in his stomach had escaped into the cavity of his chest, and Inuyasha was on cloud nine. With a rumble, he pushed himself up to sit on his knees, grasping Kagome’s waist and forcing her arch. He picked her lower body up from the bed with ease, supporting her hips as he drove his cock into her. With the choked gasp she gave, he knew his thrusts were kissing a sweet spot, and Inuyasha dropped his jaw as he watched a series of gooseflesh course over her. Her tits were bouncing with each hit of his hips, her thighs were tensing against him, and her fingers grabbed onto his wrists for support, biting into him.

It felt too good. He still had her indescribable taste on his tongue, and the overriding scent of her lingering orgasms had his cock pulsing inside of her.

“Fuck - fuck.” Everything that slipped from his mouth was out of his control, a string of curses mixed within praise Kagome deserved. “That’s my girl. That’s my good girl. Just a little further, baby, just a little bit more. Fuck, you’re so good. You’re so good, baby girl. Oh fuck, just like that.” He thrusted faster. “Baby - fuck! You’re my good girl, aren’t you? You gonna take it for me? Just like that. Just like -“

Swiftly, Inuyasha pulled out, dropping Kagome down and jerking himself to completion as he spilling himself over her tummy. Both of their breathing was ragged, he was twitching ridiculously, and he finally groaned as the best of his orgasm subsided. Suddenly, it was like supporting himself was the most difficult thing he had to do with now.

Amber eyes lethargically drifted up toward Kagome’s earthy browns, and her cheeks with a gorgeous tint of pink from the exertion, but her expression, her hazy, amorous expression, had her pupils looking like hearts. She lazily notched her nose upward to beckon him forward, and Inuyasha would have been a fool not to oblige, crawling the few inches up her body so she could pull him into a gratifying kiss.

He was in a dream. His mind was clouded with the beautiful echo of her recent moans, and he pressed languid kisses all over her until their heart rates began to drop down to a relatively normal pace. Inuyasha found himself following their mixed scents dragging his body south, kissing her shaking thighs, and then licking up their blended taste. Kagome shuddered, instantly rolling her hips against his tongue, the gasp she released without a moan at the end. She was too spent for sounds, and every flex from her muscles was of a fatigued sort, trembling and unsteady, but still responsive to his affection. Inuyasha gave a finishing kiss to her clit after licking another path upward, almost getting lost all over again in her soaked pussy.

“Don’t move.” He breathed, climbing back up to kiss her. “I’ll go get a washcloth to clean you up.”

“Wait.” Kagome snagged him for another kiss, giggling when he stumbled on his palms.

“I’ll be - right - back.” He laughed between pecks.

“One more.”

“You’re impossible.” Inuyasha smiled into the kiss, lingering with that one before he tore himself away.

He dampened the washcloth under warm water, coming back to gently wipe off her stomach of his seed. When he looked back up to her appreciative grin, it quickly shifted into fully pursed lips. A silent request for more kisses. Inuyasha laughed, tossing the cloth to the floor before rejoining her in bed to pepper her face in so many kisses, she’d regret ever asking for more. Her giggles were wonderful, her warm hands pulling him closer, and he somehow maneuvered the blanket out from beneath them to tuck them in.

He knew she wouldn’t last long. She cuddled into his chest, her lids fluttering closed and tickling his skin before she drifted off, and Inuyasha kissed her forehead, stroking her hair until he, himself, gave into the pull of sleep.

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[i-dont-want-your-hysteria]

Up In the Air (Joe x Reader)

(surprise gift for you guys on Joe's birthday ^_^ I started this almost exactly a year ago, and it's finally done! Someone pointed out that I slightly hinted at the plot of this in my last fic post... you caught me.)

Words: 4,028

Prompt: Spring, 1983. Joe has an opportunity in his sights, but as luck would have it, it does not go his way (or does it...?)

-----

(1983)

"God, it was so embarrassing!" Joe put his palms over his eyes as he whined to Sav. The singer was flat on his back in the middle of their bed, and Sav's back was against the wall opposite him. The bassist had his arms crossed in exasperation.

They were back in a fresh, new hotel room after another flight to another city. They'd been settled in for a while, and- as far as you knew- Joe was physically well. Emotionally, however...

"What are the odds that things were placed so perfectly for me today, and then-?!" he swatted the air above him, "That happens? 'Just my luck!"

Sav didn't consider it as dire of a situation as Joe did. In fact, he seemed rather entertained than sympathetic.

"That was out of your control, mate."

"I know it was, but-" he sat up, "Y/n was right there! How was I supposed to keep it together?!"

"If it were anyone else other than her, you still would've had to keep it together, you know," Sav tilted his head down, but had his eyes looking up.

"Well, you're no help," Joe grumbled, crossing his arms back at the bassist and flopping back down onto the mattress.

"There's nothing to help you with!" Sav took a seat at the foot of the bed, "It's not my fault you got-"

Joe sat up again in a snap, warning with a pointed finger, "Don't say it."

"I was just gonna say that I had nothing to do with you being-"

"Don't say it!" Joe pleaded again.

"Joe, it's not that big of a deal that you-"

"Sav!"

"Alright, fine!" Sav threw up both hands, shaking his head and narrowly fighting off a laugh, "I won't say it!"

A loud sigh came from Joe, his head hanging now. The heat of embarrassment refused to leave his face.

"...do you think she's still hung up on it, too?" his voice went quiet, and his tone adopted a sad air.

Sav raised his hand, rubbed his fingers together, and patted Joe's ankle reassuringly.

"It's hard to say no," he admitted, "I know I wouldn't have liked to be in either of your shoes today."

~(5 hours earlier)~

A hand took a grip on your right forearm without warning. It snapped you from the hypnotic, musical trance you'd been in for most of the flight. Having been placed next to the singer for the first time on an airplane, you knew it was his action without a doubt. You looked down and sure enough, Joe's hand was there- holding onto you just a bit too tightly.

Your free hand took off your headphones and you asked him, "Everything alright?"

The singer wasn't focused on you, or anything, it seemed. "Unfocused" was probably the best word you could think of to describe him. His head was slightly tilted downwards, but his eyes were fixed on the back of the chair in front of him. Despite that, it appeared as if he couldn't see it no matter how hard he tried.

You gathered this impression from a split second of looking at him, but as soon as he heard your question, Joe's hold on you was instantly released. His own trance was snapped as well.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. I thought you were the armrest..."

"You were holding on pretty tight," you pointed out, "Something wrong?"

That same look on his face was back again; unfocused. His hand slowly found its way back to the armrest- now that he knew it wasn't your arm. You saw his hand shaking before he gripped it tightly.

"You don't look so good," you noted, adopting a frown.

He hesitated slightly before going very quiet, his face suddenly appearing pallid.

"Fuck..." Joe cursed himself, "I fucked up, I fucked up..."

You pressed again, "Joe... tell me what's wrong..."

He lied to you in a halting voice when a new blush seemed to form on his face, "Um... it's nothing much. There's just- something I haven't told you, and I should've mentioned it before we got on board. But I..."

He fell quiet.

"Yeah...?" you urged him to go on.

"I get... seasick- airsick... sometimes. Not every time, but... every now and then I do- and..."

He visibly swallowed, his breath trembling when he slowly shut his eyes.

Your eyebrows went up, alarmed, "And you're not feeling so good?"

"No, no, no...!" his inner voice screamed.

"Not really, but I'm fine, don't worry about me. It just happens."

His efforts to shrink the overall worry didn't work, as you instantly knew that if things went south, you were the only nearby acquaintance of his who could help him. You were also trapped with him for 2 more hours until you landed, so you would've had to help him if need be.

"Oh god- are you gonna be sick?" your hand raised up slightly to reach for a sick bag.

"No! No, I'm more dizzy than anything..."

"Well, take this-" you handed him a sick bag, "-and just try not to focus on your surroundings. And if you can't hold it down... well just keep it in the bag and away from me, okay?"

"...okay," he exhaled and took it from you, desperately hoping it wouldn't come to that. For fuck's sake, he was already embarrassed enough. He felt like a child. Even worse; he felt like your child.

Joe shut his eyes again and rested his head back on his seat. His whole body looked drained of energy, and you saw sweat forming on his forehead. It was obvious to you he was trying to make himself appear more okay than he was.

"I can do this," Joe nearly said aloud, "I can get through this without her knowing."

Unfortunately, for him, you already knew.

"The poor guy," you were thinking with sympathy, "Never knew he could look so ill."

You asked, "You've been feeling bad for a while, haven't you?"

"...what?" he squinted under his eyelids, lying to you again, "No, not really. Why, can you tell?"

"I don't wanna sound rude... but yeah, you kind of look like hell."

Joe quietly whined at your declaration.

"I know that look, Elliott- I've been in this position before."

The man next to you was intrigued by what you implied. He was suddenly beginning to think that maybe his situation wasn't as embarrassing as it appeared.

His eyes opened, "Wait, have you ever-?"

"Oh- no, I never get sick on planes, but you're not the first case I've ever seen."

"Great. This means she's stronger than me."

You held up your bottle, "You want some water? Maybe settle your stomach a little?"

Joe felt his stomach turn at the mention of liquid and shook his head, "No, I'll be fine..."

It was another lie, but you decided maybe it was best you just let him be. Perhaps he wasn't that bad.

Joe, on the other hand, was fighting the sickness with all the strength he could muster- hoping you wouldn't see it.

"Don't mess this up," he was telling himself, "She's right there. Keep it together and don't balls it up...!"

Going with your plan, you let him be, and put your headphones back on.

He took a deep breath, "Fuck, if only the seatbelt lock wasn't on... then at least I could hide in the bathroom..."

The Leppard waited in terrified silence for his ailment to subside. With the current turbulence, it was impossible. Every shudder and bump made him want to heave until there was nothing left in his stomach. Worst of all, there was no where he could run to; he was trapped.

Oddly enough, before the sickness hit him, he was actually excited to be trapped there.

It was no secret among the band members that Joe quickly developed a crush on you. What started out as a feeling of preferring you over anyone else in the crew soon turned into a reach for romance. There was no time for him to make a move in the midst of the tour, though, which left him to suffer in his teenage desire alone.

When he heard he would be seated next to you on the next flight, he instantly knew it was an opportunity he couldn't afford to waste. This was the first time he'd sat directly by you on a plane, after all. It was a brilliant time to make a move and bond together. He'd been nervous ever since he sat down, but he never got the chance to make a flirt or decent conversation before his body betrayed him. Yes, it was an optimistic opportunity, but now Joe wished it'd been anywhere except up in the air.

The stress of the situation only made him feel worse- but he wouldn't accept the fact that he was about to lose this divine opening.

Not 4 minutes of your music went by when the plane shook yet again. When it did, you thought you saw Joe suddenly move from the corner of your eye. When your head turned, you saw his fist pressed against his mouth, an arm around his stomach, and a green tint over his pallid face.

"Woah, you alright?" you took your headphones off again.

Joe only nodded, closing his eyes to reassure you (but also to reprimand himself under the surface).

"No, no no!! Stop being sick for fuck's sake! You won't have a chance with her!!"

"I'm good, I'm good," he swallowed again, wiping sweat off his bangs, "Go back to your music."

"Don't lie to me, Joe. You look terrible-! Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"I'm really not that bad, Y/n. Just a little... motion sickness..." his breathing became labored, and he angled his body as far to his right as he could. He began to fidget with something as he swallowed, "Ohh..."

The cabin teetering around him somehow made things even worse.

"Honey, I don't think it's just a little," your concern was peaked, and a hand was hovering over his arm, "You look like you're about to throw up or pass out, so how about we get you some club soda and you can rest, okay? If you want to, you can even-"

Joe was turned completely away from you, and had suddenly lurched forward to vomit into the sick bag you'd given him earlier. You knew that any hope of him holding back his condition was impossible now.

You'd initially flinched at his retching; cringing and holding your breath. Only a second passed until you remembered your duty; you were the only friend nearby.

"Uh oh-" sympathetically, you sighed and reached out to him, your hands holding his hair back, "That's not good..."

***

"I feel so humiliated... I was just- so deathly sick! I threw up twice, Sav- twice! And she was right next to me! I feel awful that she had to put up with it...! I feel like that's on me. She probably thinks I'm disgusting; she probably sees me as this huge fucking pansy who can't keep his lunch down while flying..."

"Mate, getting sick on flights isn't a personality trait, and I'm pretty sure Y/N knows that, too."

Joe, who was laying down again, scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"...I think this situation isn't all that bad, really," Sav shrugged, his voice going up in pitch to take on a suggestive tone.

"What on earth makes you say that?"

"It's quite obvious! I just think you were-" he adopted Joe's voice and air quotes, "-'so deathly sick' that you didn't even realize exactly what was happening...!"

"Really? How so?"

"Oh, don't even get me started, Joe."

*** Joe was laying against you now, exhausted from the physical labor forced on his stomach and throat. He was still pale and shivering, but finally willing to accept your advice and remedies. You'd ordered him some club soda (and some mints from your purse), and suggested he take a rest.

This left you where you were now. He had a hand on his stomach, and another one under your hand to calm him.

To say the least, it felt like having a nice, heavy blanket partially draped on you. You couldn't help but think it was at least a little funny. To most people, they'd be absolutely repulsed by a man with a weak stomach sleeping on them during a flight. You couldn't blame them, as Joe could still hurl at any given moment. However, the instinct to care for him overpowered any repulsion you may have had. To you, Joe was like a sick puppy, and you were the one who found him first. You knew he needed you in that moment, and you were okay with it. It was a nice feeling, to say the least.

Joe moved his head against you in his weary and mostly-asleep state of consciousness. A soft grumble vibrated from his sore throat.

Amid those circumstances that would normally gross you out, you managed to smile at him. That, and you gently squeezed his hand to reassure him that he was safe.

That pale, clammy version of the singer you were trapped with wasn't the form of himself he put on display to just anyone. This was a whole new side of him that you knew he never intended you to see; he was helpless. Joe had given in and finally let himself be helpless around you. You found it was rather sweet, and even somehow softening your heart.

It almost felt like a strange honor that not many people had the privilege of possessing, given that Joe tried so hard to hide it from you.

Him desperately vying to avoid your concern was typical for any one of the guys. Naturally, none of them wanted to appear vulnerable around you, but Joe seemed so hell-bent on keeping up his charade of feeling fine. You wondered what reasons he had for his strict act. Perhaps it was the intimate public setting that drove him to conceal his motion sickness at all costs. Maybe it was in order to save himself from certain embarrassment; you really didn't know.

Whatever reason he had, it didn't dwell in your mind for long. All you knew was that even with a half-dead, cold-sweated Joe on your shoulder, your heart was fluttering in a way that was even more inexplicable than his behavior.

*** "First of all," Sav held up a sassy finger at Joe, "She was the one who suggested she hold your hand, plus she held your hair back, plus she let you sleep on her shoulder and tried to make you feel better. Sounds rather tender, if you ask me. Tenderly intimate."

"I'll tell you what was 'intimate'-" Joe's grumpiness was still prominent, "-her watchin' me regurgitate my fuckin guts from 10 inches away!"

"But those were all girlfriend duties!" Sav bounced in his seat, trying to get the point across.

Joe finally fell silent. He sat up, and Sav could see the blush in his cheeks.

"...girlfriend duties?" he nearly whispered to the bassist.

"I'm right and you know it. Tell me those weren't girlfriend-ly actions! She got affectionate with you!"

Joe let his sight fall, then rise back up after a brief moment of pondering.

"She did, didn't she..."

"She definitely did."

Sav was smirking at him now.

Joe asked him again, "You really think she did...?"

"There's not a doubt in my mind."

"Oh-" Joe made a swatting motion and shook his head. He looked diagonally down at the floor, "She probably would've been affectionate to any one of us in that situation..."

Sav laughed out loud at his friend's comment. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was back at home, gossiping in Joe's childhood bedroom during a sleepover.

"Mate, when I had food poisoning last month, she didn't wanna get near me! But today, she was touchin' you and strokin' you and whatnot! Now that I mention it, I saw her smile while you were sleeping and holding her hand! Believe me, she wanted to help you. It was like she had an excuse to get close to you, just like you saw the flight as an excuse to get close to her."

Resting his case, Sav crossed his arms, tongue in his cheek.

They both remained quiet while Joe sat in thought. The pieces slowly began to fit together in his head, forming a train of thought he could somewhat follow.

"Suppose you are right; what do you suppose I do about it now?"

Sav could tell his argument was a success. His work there was done.

"That's entirely up to you."

*** You hadn't been awake that long, and were still pretty groggy when dawn began to break the next day. The unfortunate sensation of jet lag was beginning to catch up with you at that time, too. It didn't matter, because it was all part of the business. Your day would begin soon enough, jet lag or not.

After rubbing your eyes and throwing on your robe, you drew back the curtains and peered out at the misty morning. Thinking the hypnotic trance might wake you up more, you began to stare. Just as quickly, your eyes began to flutter shut again. Right before they did, however, there came a gentle knock at your door.

Blinking yourself back awake, you brought yourself to answer the call.

Initially, you found no one outside your room via the door's peephole. However, when you opened the door to search for anyone nearby, there came an unexpected surprise.

Rather than a person standing before you, a colorful bouquet of flowers lay on your doorstep. Of course, it was strange, but it also left you quickly growing bashful. You just hoped it wasn't one of your guy friends playing an early morning joke on you. Even so, your mind would be too cloudy to process that.

Looking around with sleepy confusion and flattery, you crouched down and picked up the bright bundle. You shuffled your fingers through the top of the arrangement to try and find a label or card that would give away the sender's identity. Eventually, you found the exact clue you were looking for; in the form of a small note.

The fresh, awakening scent of the blossoms wafted around you as you made out the handwriting.

"I'm so sorry I almost threw up on you on the plane! 🙁 -Joe"

It couldn't have been any more straightforward if it'd been put up on a neon sign. You chuckled out loud in the empty hallway and peered around to find a trace of the man in question.

Instantly, you found his eyes peeking from around the corner a few yards away. A guilty smile on his lips made him look so shy- in contrast to his average demeanor.

"This was really unnecessary, you know," the bundle was waved teasingly at him.

"I felt it was necessary," Joe's body slowly appeared more from behind the corner, "Considering you had no choice but to put up with disgusting ol' me."

Leaning on your door's frame, your eyes followed him while he strolled forward and leaned his shoulder on the wall in front of you. You both wore humorous smiles aimed at each other. If you could think any more clearly, you'd recognize this as flirting. Maybe it was- but it seemed oddly natural in that moment.

"Despite what you may think," your eyebrows lifted as you raised the bouquet up to your chin, "You weren't as gross as you expect. That, and you weren't any trouble."

"I just feel icky about the whole thing," he scrunched up his face and shrugged in disgust, "I promise it won't happen again- if I'm seated next to you."

"Don't worry about it, Joe. You just had a bad flight; everyone's got them from time to time."

"Not you, apparently."

Joe's smile turned rather bashful when he diverted his eye contact elsewhere. He silently chuckled with a hint of embarrassment. When you'd reassured him, he all of a sudden realized what Sav was trying to make him see. There was something in your eyes and your smile and your voice that just spoke to Joe; something that hit him and made him realize you wanted to be in the position you were in the day before.

You wanted to be affectionate with him.

Out of his daze, Joe spoke up after a brief hesitation, "So- um, I know it's early... but it's the perfect time for breakfast, so would you wanna go downstairs and get something to eat?"

"You mean with disgusting ol' you?"

"Don't worry-" his face almost went red at the cheeks, and his dimple appeared at the corner of his mouth, "You don't have to think about me keeping it down this time."

Your arm holding the flowers dropped down to your side as you broke up into giggles.

"I'm not worried- in fact, I'd love to go."

You couldn't be certain, but you swore you saw Joe's face actually go red that time.

"Cool! Cool. Did you wanna get dressed or-?"

"Well, you don't seem to be dressed either, so why should I?" you reached back into your room to place the bouquet inside. When you shut the door, you joined the singer, "Let's hit it before Mike and Mal take all the good pastries."

Joe showed his teeth in his grin when you came to his side and began walking.

"If they're all taken, I'll steal one for you- considering I owe you a favor after what you did for me yesterday."

"What did I do?"

The answer was simple, but Joe didn't know how to say it without implying his feelings for you.

"You nursed me back to heath- or at least tried to..."

"I told you not to worry about it..."

"Alright, alright, I'll try not to."

"I'll tell you something, Elliott," you giggled as you both got inside the lift, "You've got a strange way of flirting."

Heat rushed to Joe's cheeks, and more threatened to join them at the thought of you noticing.

"Oh yeah?" he laughed.

"You hope I won't notice every tiny effort, yet you keep doing tiny things to make me notice. Even if we're, for example- up in the air..."

"Oh, god..." just like that, Joe thought he'd be the first person on earth to die of embarrassment. He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Fuck- please don't tell me I was that obvious..."

"Calm down, don't make yourself sick again," you laughed and patted his back, "If it makes you feel any better... I did notice what you were trying to do on the flight. And- um... it worked. So..."

You stood on your toes, and lightly planted a kiss on his cheek, "Let's just say- you don't have to be sick if you want to hold my hand next time."

Joe's hand lowered from his face, and he quickly flashed a bashful glance at you before darting his eyes away.

The elevator doors opened, the smell of coffee seeping everywhere. Instead of walking out, Joe reached out to you.

"You said I didn't have to be sick next time, and I'm quite well now..."

A bashful smile of your own made an appearance as you took his hand like you did the previous day. When you did, Joe giggled to himself.

You glanced over, "What?"

With a pause, Joe rolled in his lips, then looked right at you, "Oh nothing. Just- if you get sick on the next flight, I guess we'll be even, then."

"So, you're gonna sit with me on the next flight, then?" you raised an eyebrow.

"If it means getting even with you, then yes."

"And if it doesn't mean getting even with me?"

"Well," Joe said, smiling widely, "Then the answer is still yes."

That answer was more than enough for you.

Strolling out together, hand-in-hand, you and Joe made your way towards the breakfast counter. In the corner of your vision, you noticed him snagging a pastry off of Mike and Mal's table when he passed by.

The end

[fuckthesworld]

YOU’RE OURS

THOMAS x NEWT x READER 

NSFW

Warnings: Smut, threesome.

A/N : It is set after Death Cure . Our Cutie Newt is alive !!!!! I can’t let him die in my story . And yeah it’s my first imagine in Tumblr.

You couldn’t help the hiss that escaped your lips as Thomas gently padded the cut on your shoulder with gauze.

“Sorry” He flinched, “I’m being as soft as I can…”

“I know, tommy , it’s ok” You reassured him.

He sighed,

“No, it’s not. I’m good at this, god knows I’ve had practice, but I’m not a doctor…” nonetheless, he grabbed the needle and medical thread, “You should have let Brenda take a look at you”

You had been naive, the both of you, in believing you had seen the last of the cranks for the night.

The cranks were turning violent when they realized the immunes are not affected by them so they focused on biting the main arteries or important parts of body so that the immunes could either die due to blood loss or they become disabled .

During the last scavenging hunt you got bit on your shoulders but Newt was also hurt so Thomas asked brenda to stay with Newt .

Thanks the lord you were immune and newt was also immune as he was given the cure in safe haven .

It clicked then, watching your boyfriend’s tear streaked face.

“You’re in love with him”

“So are you” It wasn’t an accusation, just the statement of a fact. You weren’t really surprised he had realized, not when he could hear your heartbeat quicken whenever Newt showed up in your hut .

The silence fell between you like ghost, a heavy presence, invisible but suffocating, for several moments, until Thomas gathered enough courage to break it,

“I still love you, Y/N. This doesn’t change that”

“I know,” you sighed, “I still love you too”

“What are we going to do now?” He looked about as lost as you felt.

“I don’t know, Tommy…”

“I- I don’t want to lose you” He choked out a sob.

“You won’t” You stood, pulling him in, wrapping your arms around him. He held onto you hard, almost so hard it hurt, but you couldn’t let go. You wouldn’t. “You won’t lose me, Tommy , ever. Not for this, not for anything”

He leaned back just enough to crush his lips to yours, pouring all his desperation, all his fear and guilt into a bittersweet kiss. His arms wound even tighter around you in an iron grip, afraid if he let go for just a second, you would disappear from his side.

“Don’t leave me… please don’t leave me” He didn’t realize the words were escaping his mouth between kisses until your answer reached his ears, soothing like a balm:

“I won’t. I’m never leaving you”

The ground was swept from under your feet, as Thomas picked you up, bridal style. He needed you, his sunshine, his anchor to-

Until someone knocked the door .

“ Thomas , Y/N “ you both froze hearing Newt’s voice .

You found a silk robe to put on over your flimsy summer pajamas, covering your body not out of modesty, but to somewhat conceal the bandages and bruises littering your skin. Thomas smiled, it was just like you to hide your vulnerabilities, especially if you were expecting a confrontation. He took your hand, and you stepped out of the bedroom together. Come what may, you knew you could face it, as long as you had each other.

“Newt!” The gasp left Thomas’s throat unbidden, as soon as his eyes fell on his friend. It was a pitiful sight, the blonde still wearing the same clothes from last night, rumpled and dirty, the stench of sweat coming out of his pores .

“I’m sorry” Newt croaked between tears, “I’m so sorry ”

He hadn’t noticed how cold he was, until Thomas enveloped him in his warm embrace.

“It’s ok, Newt” You heard him whisper, “It’s going to be ok. We got you now…”

“Make it stop , Make my nightmare stop” Newt’s cries were muffled against your boyfriend’s shoulder, but you still could feel the pain in his voice, loud and clear. It hurt like a physical blow to your chest, knocking the air out of you. You had tried, you really had, but apparently your feelings for the brown eyed boy weren’t as under control as you had thought “Please… make it stop”

He wasn’t even conscious of the words leaving his mouth, as he begged to a god he didn’t believe in, to whoever might be listening, for something to numb the pain. To feel anything else than that soul crushing agony consuming him.

Thomas’s eyes found yours, a silent request for permission. You didn’t know what was in his mind, but you trusted him, with more than your life: You trusted him with your heart.

You nodded. It was all Thomas needed. He cupped Newt’s face with his hands, and kissed him.

It was surreal. Suddenly, you were witnessing your boyfriend passionately making out with the man that had been haunting your dreams for months, and you should have felt jealousy or betrayal, but the truth was, those were the furthest things from your mind. Because Newt seemed to be finally kissing back, fingers tangling in Thomas’s curls, still wet from your shared shower, tugging just enough for the brunnet to let out the most delicious little whimper and fuck, but that had to be the hottest thing you had ever seen in your life making you gasp.

And Thomas had probably felt the change in you, the rising in your temperature, the gasp that left your mouth, cause he reached for your hand without even looking, pulling you closer, guiding the blond man towards your lips. His once familiar mouth quickly reacquainted itself with yours, tongue exploring, teeth nibbling softly. The shock sent shivers down your spine, as Thomas’s hands opened your robe, sliding the cool silk down your arms. His lips on your neck had your head spinning, and you had to hold onto Newt’s strong shoulders to stop yourself from falling.

“Hey Love” He breathed out as you broke the kiss, cursing your need for oxygen.

“Hi” You smiled, “It’s been too long”

“Far too long” Newt agreed, the beautiful brown of his eyes, dark and turbulent with lust remembering the drunk kiss both of you shared in the glade at the bonfire .

Thomas didn’t stay idle for long, agile fingers working open Newt’s shirt, stepping closer, pushing your body further into Newt’s space. It wasn’t long till you found yourself trapped between two naked, equally stunning torsos, pushing and pulling, as Thomas’s and Newt’s lips collided again over your shoulder.

You felt your boyfriend’s hand slip inside your sleeping shorts, teasing you over your panties.

“Tommy” You reached back, arm hooked on the back of his neck for purchase, as he tugged your underwear to the side, and buried two fingers inside your tight heat.

“Fuck!”

Startled, you opened the eyes you hadn’t even realized you had closed. You were ashamed to admit you had pretty much forgotten the other man’s presence, Thomas was just that good, knew your body that well, but Newt was still standing in front of you, eyes fixed on the erotic way Thomas’s hand was moving inside your shorts. His other hand lowered the straps of your camisole one by one, baring your chest to Newt’s wonderstruck stare.

The moan that escaped your lips as Thomas started expertly massaging your breast finally pulled the golden haired man out of his trance,

“Can I…”

“Touch her?” Thomas finished for him, placing a sweet kiss on your temple, as your head rolled back, coming to rest on his chest, “I don’t know, buddy. You’ll have to ask her”

You heard Newt’s voice, but it was hard to concentrate with Thomas’s fingers penetrating you over and over again, grazing that perfect spot inside you every time. Thomas chuckled a little smugly.

“Baby girl, is it ok if Newt touches you?”

“Yes!” You panted, at last “Yes, please, Newt… touch me”

He did more than that, lips closing around the nipple not currently between Thomas’s fingers, hands roaming all around your body, tearing and ripping at clothes with Newt’s help, until you were completely naked, and completely at their mercy.

Your boyfriend laid you down on the bed He positioned you so your legs would hang out the border, guiding Newt to kneel between them.

“Bossy, aren’t you?” The blond quipped, playfully.

“Oh, you have no idea” Thomas smirked from behind his back, turning his head to capture his lips again in the filthiest of kisses. You watched Thomas’s hands trail down Newt’s chest, lower down his abs and further south still, undoing his button and his fly, disappearing inside his pants.

Your breath catched at the same time as his, when Thomas’s hand closed around his member, slowly pumping up and down, up and down, the same hypnotic.

Newt’s head fell forward, eyes closed in bliss, but that was when Thomas saw you.

“Naughty girl,” He murmured, eyes zeroing in the way your index finger was rubbing circles on your clit, “you know I hate it when you do that…”

Your smirk was defiant,

“What are you going to do about it?” You let your other hand travel over your skin, caressing softly, teasing yourself as much as teasing him “You have your hands full”

“I’ll take care of her” Newt was looking at you longingly, “Please, Thomas… let me take care of her…”

“Hmmm… only because you ask so nicely” Thomas’s words were a little slurred, and you knew he was drunk with the power. Having both you and Newt to dominate, to do as he said was making him dizzy, almost overwhelmed.

“Put your mouth on her, Newt… she’s fucking delicious, tastes just like strawberries…”

Newt bent over, licking his lips, eyes fixed on yours. The movement pressed his ass against Thomas’s hard on, making him hiss.

“Can I-”

“Yes, please”

Your boyfriend tugged both Newt’s pants and boxers down. You couldn’t see exactly what he was doing, but Newt’s handsome face, contorting in pleasure, gave you a pretty good idea.

“Oh, god, Newt!” You gasped as his tongue, at last, made contact with your flesh.

He hummed as if in agreement, flattening his tongue over your slit before using the tip to tap your pearl. Your hand flew to his head, finding purchase in his golden curls as he licked into you eagerly, rocking his whole face against you.

He was nothing like Thomas. This was messy, obscene, it lacked Thomas’s finesse and precision, but fuck it was good.

You could feel the coil tighten inside you, already so close to the brink from Thomas’s hand, but just as it was about to snap, Newt’s lips left you.

“Oh, fuck!” His curse was muffled against your thigh. You could see your boyfriend’s curls over the curve of Newt’s back and you could only guess what his wicked tongue was doing to the boy between your legs.

Oh yeah, he’s quite talented at that isn’t he?” You giggled despite your frustration

“So good” Newt moaned, “So so good…”

Thomas came into view then, placing kisses along Newt’s spine.

“If you want my mouth on you” He whispered in his ear, loud enough for you to hear, “keep yours on her”

Newt nodded, enthusiastically.

“And make sure she comes,” He went on, “that’s the only rule: Our girl gets to come… Over, and over,” He punctuated every word with a kiss down Newt’s back again, “and over, and over…”

The most wanton of noises left Newt and you knew conversation time was over as he dove right back in, separating your lips with his fingers, thrusting his tongue inside you as deep as it would go. Your back arched off the chaise, crying out loud when Newt decided to add a finger, and then another one, as his lips closed around your clit, sucking a little too hard.

It was too much.

“Newt… fuck, ah!… Slow down, baby”

“Keep going, Newt” Thomas’s tone was stern, as he watched you writhe in pleasure. He was on his knees again, coating two of his fingers with lube. When had he gone and fetch it, you had no idea. “Make her come… god you have to see her, she is so gorgeous when she comes…”

And it wasn’t going to take long, with the way Newt’s tongue was circling your clit and the vibrations from his own moans and sweet little whines, you could feel yourself right at that edge, all you needed was something to tip you over.

Newt’s hand made its way to your chest, finding your breast and massaging just the way you liked it, the way you had done earlier. He was a fast learner. But you didn’t have much time to marvel about that, cause you were finally falling, every nerve of your body going up in sparks, your cries of ecstasy intermingling with his, as Thomas finally, finally entered him, torturously slow, making him feel every lavish inch.

The stronger boy’s measured but powerful thrusts pushed Newt’s body forwards. He wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face on your Neck, mouth slack against your skin, muffling his sounds.

“Careful there,” Thomas warned, slowing down his movements almost to a stop, “She’s hurt”

 Squaring your jaw, you looked up at Thomas .

“What are you waiting for, Tommy?” Your boyfriend’s eyes went wide at your commanding tone, “Fuck him like you mean it”

Thomas gulped, goosebumps erupting on his skin. Oh yeah, he might be a big boy now, but your dominant voice could still make him weak. He wondered absently if it was simply you, and everything you did, that turned him to putty in your hands.

“Yes, ma'am” He grabbed onto Newt’s hips, picking up his rhythm.

“Oh god!” Newt sobbed into your skin. You ran your hand through his curls, caressing soothingly.

“He feels good, doesn’t he? So hard and big…”

“So big…” The blonde agreed, “so deep…”

“How does Newt feel, Tommy?”

Your boyfriend was biting his lip, looking down, fixated on the place he was disappearing inside Newt.

“So good, so fucking tight…”

You sighed, yearningly. They were breathtakingly, heartbreakingly beautiful. All lean and strong muscles, locking and releasing, miles of soft creamy skin colliding on skin, tiny beads of sweat glistening in the soft morning light. It was fascinating, watching them move together, the dirty sounds leaving them more than enough to make you wet and ready again.

But before you could say something, you felt Newt stare on you.

“Y/N… I need you, please” He pleaded, small and shy, as if afraid you would say no. You looked at Thomas for reassurance, but he was already bending over, reaching for Newt’s cock and unrolling a condom around it, pushing him further up your body. The blond whined in complaint when the movement caused Thomas to slip out of him.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” Your boyfriend moved closer, kissing his shoulder, “Like me filling you up so good…”

Newt and you moaned in unison, making him chuckle.

“It’s her turn now. She needs to be filled too. So go on, bury that gorgeous cock of yours between her legs” Thomas encouraged, softly, his tone a stark contrast to the vulgarity of his words, “and I will fuck you so hard she will feel it”

Newt cursed, Thomas dirty mouth was going to be the death of him, he just knew it.

No, he was already in heaven, he decided, as he braced himself on his forearms at each side of your head, taking his sweet time entering you. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about this, the truth was he had, a million times. Now it was really you, and never in his wildest dreams had he pictured it could be like this, your breathy moans underneath him, your heat embracing him so perfectly… As your boyfriend did obscene, immoral, delicious things to him from behind, driving him right to the brink of sanity.

And he didn’t waste any time, thrusting hard and fast. Soon, Newt was a sobbing mess, trapped as every move to escape Thomas cock drove him deeper into you, every motion backwards and away from you impaling him further on Thomas cock. There wasn’t much he could do, but take whatever Thomas gave him.

You clung onto his back, blunt fingernails digging into his skin,

“I’m going to come… Newt, I’m going to come on your cock”

Fuck, you were just as dirty as your boyfriend. And it was truth, he could feel it, feel your walls quivering around his dick, feel your body starting to shake with the force of your orgasm. Thomas bended over, grabbing hold of his shoulders, changing the angle, hitting his prostate over and over, white hot pleasure exploding without warning. Newt drown his screams into your mouth, his climax almost painful in it’s intensity, his vision going black.

“ Why don’t you move in with us if your nightmares are that bad “ You said 

Newt was speechless. He had wish, he had dreamed, but he hadn’t let himself hope. That this… whatever it was, wild, and exiting, and delicate and precious between the three of you was not a one time thing. He had tried to convince himself that he would be fine if it was, that he was going to treasure it anyway, be glad it happened, enjoy it while it lasted. Even if it killed him the next day.

It was a fine line between happiness and heartbreak, the one he had been walking with you today.

“I… Well, I mean” He stammered “I think I would love to.  I mean. If it doesn’t bother you guys, that is”

Thomas and you exchanged a look, one of those silent communication things you seemed to always have going on, and he felt the littlest pang of envy. He wanted to be privy to those conversations, like he wanted to be a part of yours and Thomas’s world.

And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t an impossible dream. Because suddenly he found himself with an armful if you, capturing his lips in a possessive kiss that spoke of something deeper than lust and passion, something permanent and meaningful and as inescapable as fate, ‘You are ours now, you belong to us. And we are never letting you go’

MASTERLIST

[iridescent-petrichor]

we’ll meet again, chapter eight

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: none just the plot of Apocalypse !

Words: 3K (jesus)

Previous Chapter

A/N: final chapter!! hope u guys liked this, i do already have another peter series idea but i might do some oneshots for a bit before i start that :-)

“Were you scared?” Jean was the first one to break the silence, everyone in the plane following her gaze to land on Raven. “That day in DC, were you scared?”

“No,” Raven replied, looking away from her. She paused for a long time, the awkwardness in the room growing. “But I was scared on my first mission. I was on a plane like this with my friends, about your age. We called ourselves the X-men. Your brother was there,” she leaned forward, looking to Scott. “We used to call him Havoc. He was a real handful, but when it came down to it he was very brave.”

“What happened to the rest of the kids who went with you? The X-men?” Kurt piped up.

Raven stopped for a moment, avoiding eye contact with the boy. “Hank and I are the only ones left. I couldn’t save the rest of them. I told you, I’m not a hero.”

“Well, you’re a hero to us,” Jean said, turning to her. “Seeing you that day on TV changed my life.”

“Mine too,” Kurt added.

“Mine too.” You jumped in.

“Mine too.” Peter was the last to speak, and of course, he wasn’t done there. “I mean I still live in my mom’s basement but, you know… everything else is uh, well it’s pretty much the same.” He joked, turning to you with a smile that you returned. “I’m a total loser.” He finished, making the plane of people laugh. He was always good at making people laugh.

The tension was only lifted for a few moments, however, because soon turbulence began to shake the plane lightly. You leaned forward, glancing out the window to see pyramids with debris floating around them in half circles.

“Seventh wonder, twelve o'clock,” Hank muttered dryly.

Raven jumped up, standing between Moira and Hank. You glanced from her to Jean, who was staring intently at nothing.

“He has the professor in the center of the pyramid. He’s going to transfer his consciousness into the professor. If he does that, he’ll have the power to control every mind in the world.”

“Shit.” You whispered, anxiety building in your chest. Peter looked at you before turning back to the chaos outside, his hand finding yours as if it was second nature to him. To both of you.

“What the hell is that?” Moira asked, making you stand up to get a better view.

It was like a ball of debris, more concentrated than the ones around the pyramids. It looked like…

A magnetic field.

“It’s Erik,” Raven confirmed your suspicion.

In an instant, Peter was on his feet, leaning against you and staring down where Erik was.

“You guys help Nightcrawler get into the pyramid. Get Charles, I’ll take care of Erik.” Raven ordered, barely looking to the rest of you before focusing back on Erik.

“How are you gonna get through that?” Hank asked.

“I can get you in there.” Peter stood straighter, looking to Raven. “I came here for him, let me help you.”

She nodded before turning to the rest of you once more. “The rest of you, get Charles on this plane and get him out of here.”

“We’re not leaving without you!” Kurt protested.

“Don’t worry,” Peter looks to Kurt in reassurance. “We’ll catch up.”

“Hold on,” Hank warned, making you grab onto the back of Hank’s chair with Peter grabbing onto you.

Hank landed the plane, dropping you just off to the side of all the chaos happening. You all filed out one by one, Raven and Peter walking ahead of the group.

“Hank, Y/N, you go with the kids. Moira will be waiting on the plane.” It was interesting watching Raven easily falling into a leadership role, especially without Charles around. She always seemed to know what she was doing.

“Wait.” Scott stopped, making the rest of the group turn to him.

“What?”

“Not all of us can control our powers.” Suddenly, you remembered your gloves. You had left them at the mansion when it got destroyed, and you didn’t even realize how well you’d been managing without them.

“Then don’t.” Raven’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “You need to embrace them. We all do.”

You couldn’t help but smile at Raven showing off her true form, giving a small wave to Peter before he sped off with her.

Hank gave you a look in regards to your affection towards Peter, before motioning for the group to follow him. You did as such, keeping low just in case someone might see the five of you sneaking around. You ran through the rubble, dust clouding around you.

“There’s an entrance, it’s clear,” Hank said, stopping behind a section of a fallen building.

You glanced up just in time to notice the winged mutant that was with Erik when he took Charles soaring down upon the group. Everyone else looked up too, making you all back up to some extent.

“Kurt! Get in there!” Hank ordered, nodding when Kurt disappeared.

The winged mutant shot metal feathers towards you, only stopped when Jean used her powers to create a makeshift shield out of the rubble. He didn’t stay long, choosing instead to follow Kurt into the pyramid.

“In the pyramid. Move!” You ran in front, eyes darting all around you in case of traps or other mutants protecting the pyramid. Hank stayed in the back, making sure everyone got in safely. “Go!”

Lightning sparked violently to the ground, making you jump back. Within seconds, another mutant from earlier today landed in front of you. Her eyes were white, the same color as her hair, and blue electricity crawled up her arms and around her suit.

Fuck.

She walked towards you, the wind picking up until a car was raised into the air. You barely got to the ground in time, seeing it whir over your head.

You heard Hank roar behind you, attempting to use his strength to stop the car. Scott ripped his glasses off, beams of energy shooting towards the girl. When you glanced back, you saw Hank launch the car towards her.

You shot a wave of fire above you, enveloping the car as it launched towards the girl.

Before you could admire your teamwork, a purple laser sliced through the middle of the car, separating it and the flames as a third mutant jumped through the gap.

“Split them up.” She said, making you cast a nervous look to Hank.

The first girl rose from her spot, lightning shooting towards all of you. You jumped back, scrambling to get behind cover. Running into a half-collapsed building, you ducked to avoid the lightning.

As you struggled to catch your breath, you saw the girl with the purple blades wrapping a kinetic rope around Hank’s neck.

You stumbled back outside just as she yanks the rope, throwing him through a wall. She began pulling him towards her, choking him out in the process.

Gathering as much control as you could, you shot a ball of fire her way, knocking her off her feet and giving Hank the chance to slip out of her grasp. He jumped up, flipping off the ground and kicking her once before grabbing her by the throat and throwing her up to the top of a building.

“Thanks.” He spoke once you caught up to him, standing at his side.

Once Hank headed for the top of the building, you turned your focus back to the original girl. She and Scott were in a showdown, his beams of energy against her lightning.

Just as you started heading over to help Scott, Kurt jumped in and grabbed you. In an instant, you were back on the plane with Jean, Moira, and the professor. It was a different feeling than when you’d be taken places by Peter, less nauseating.

It didn’t take long for Kurt to get everyone on board, Hank climbing into the pilot’s seat.

“Let’s go.” The plane began rising off the ground. You had to force the worry away, trusting that Peter would get back in time. “Locked on.”

“Here we go,” Moira said.

It didn’t take long, however, for a thudding to be heard on top of the plane. Shit.

“What the hell was that?” Moira looked back at the rest of the plane, the fear in her eyes only growing when a purple blade sliced through the ceiling. She turned back to the controls, trying to help in any way.

“Kurt.” Jean’s voice rang out, looking up from her spot beside the professor. “Everyone, grab a hold of Nightcrawler!”

You did as told, dropping to your knees with him and grabbing his wrist.

“I’ve never done it with this many people!” Despite his worry, he prepared for teleportation.

Before he could get you all out of there, however, the winged mutant broke through the ceiling, dropping down into the plane. In an instant, the plane was soaring to the ground at a terrifying speed. While Kurt continued to struggle, you watched the winged mutant for any surprise attacks.

“Kurt hurry!” Jean urged. “Kurt!”

The winged mutant managed to regain his balance, taking aim towards you again.

“Kurt!” Your voice was laced with worry, leaning away from the mutant’s gaze as he took charge towards you.

In a blink, you were safe. Kurt brought you all to a room that was relatively intact, considering everything. When you glanced at him, he was already out cold, overworked.

“Is he okay?” Scott asked, leaning over him.

“It’s his energy, he’s drained,” Jean replied as Hank moved over to check for a pulse.

“Get out.” You heard Charles mumble. “Get out!” He began thrashing around from his spot on the floor, Jean immediately going to him.

“Professor it’s okay, you’re with us.” He opened his eyes, disoriented. “It’s okay,” Jean repeated, her voice soothing.

Once he got a sense of his surroundings, he kept to one of the corners of the room, leaning up against the wall. You and Jean brought Kurt over near him, setting up a bed for him to rest on.

Hearing someone outside calling Charles’ name, you froze. Hank stopped what he was doing, turning in the direction of the voice. It was the mutant from earlier, the one leading all the others.

“Show yourself! Charles!” He yelled, Hank standing in preparation for a fight. You backed up towards the wall next to Charles, keeping a safe distance away from the windows in case you could be seen.

The yelling stopped for a while, the tension growing in the air as everyone waiting for the mutant’s next move. You and Hank exchanged worried looks, Jean and Scott standing off as if forming a human barrier to protect the professor.

“Peter.” He spoke quietly, making you snap to him.

“What?” You asked, dropping to the ground to be eye level with Charles. “Peter?”

He didn’t answer, lost in his own head watching something you couldn’t see.

“Raven,” when he spoke again, everyone turned.

“I’m going out there.” Hank decided, turning towards the door.

“I’m going with you,” Scott added.

You said nothing, simply standing from your spot before the professor weakly grabbed onto you.

“No.” He struggled to stand, using you as support. “It’s me he wants.”

“Charles, you can’t give yourself up,” Moira argued. “He has you, he has us all. The whole world.”

“Charles! Come! Rescue your weaklings! Give your life for theirs!” When the mutant called out again, you turned to see Charles crying.

“No.” He shook his head, voice breaking. Suddenly, he sat up, coming to a decision before he froze. “He was right. There is still some part of me connected to him. I can get inside his head.” He laid back down, finally confident. “Thank you for letting me in.”

His eyes closed, and you knew he was gone to deal with the mutant. Taking the opportunity, you ran to the window, craning your neck to see what had happened to Peter. Before you could, you heard Charles struggling.

Jean ran over to him, checking to see if he was alright when the wall in front of you turned to dust. As it floated away in the wind, you saw the mutant staring up at you. Peter was crouched by his side, his leg trapped in the ground. You backed up, feeling all too exposed. As you did, the mutant walked towards you. It was slow, menacing, and the way he looked up at the house you were in gave you chills.

A steel beam fell past the house, lodging itself into the ground. You jumped, brows furrowing at the object.

Erik?

A second one came down just as quick, forming an X in front of the mutant whose movement was swiftly blocked.

Magneto flew down, hovering above the fight as the debris around him fell back to the ground.

“You betray me?” The mutant’s voice was filled with disgust.

“No.” He answered simply. “I betrayed them.”

The debris flew up once more, shooting towards the mutant. A shield formed around him, protecting him from Erik’s attack.

You glanced to the side, seeing Peter too close for comfort to the debris and the fire that circled the force field the mutant created. Without another moment wasted, you spun around towards the stairwell behind you and ran. You heard Hank say something to Scott as you were heading down, but you paid him no mind. You had to make sure Peter would be okay.

By the time you got to him, Hank was grabbing Raven and getting her to safety. Peter looked up at you, hand instantly finding yours for support. You held onto him, using your free hand to concentrate your powers around the ground entangling his foot. Once you had managed to burn enough of it away, you pulled him free, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulder. He groaned in pain, making your heart sting.

“I got you, don’t worry.” You reassured, following where Hank ran off to, keeping Peter as protected as you could on the way there.

Behind you, Scott was trying to help Erik in his attacks on the mutant. The chaos felt like so much, and yet it wasn’t even putting a dent in him.

Finally, you set Peter down next to Raven, muttering reassurances under your breath that you weren’t sure if it was more to comfort Peter or yourself. Hank, after making sure Raven would be alright, ran off to join the fight as well.

“You’re gonna be fine.” You smiled, crouched down in front of him. He nodded weakly, leaning his head back on the section of the wall that was behind him.

When you stood to follow Hank, his hand caught your wrist, pulling you back down. His other hand came up, cupping your cheek gently as his lips connected with yours. Your eyes widened, before fluttering closed, leaning into the kiss. You reached forwards, one hand resting on his neck, the other finding his hair. For a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered.

Still, you pulled away, a wide smile on your face.

“Go.” He encouraged, smiling tiredly.

“I’ll be back for you.” You pointed, standing and backing away from the boy.

“I know.” He muttered, watching you run off to join your friends.

The painful realization was that you were losing. All of you. By the time you rejoined the fight, Hank was unconscious and Scott was stuck, ground tangling him into the wall.

Despite the circumstances, you let your powers loose, fire raging around him until he turned in your direction.

It only took one swift movement, and you were sent flying backwards in the air, painfully slamming against a wall. You fell to the ground, too weak to move as you watched him. It was a helpless feeling, watching him wave off every attack you all threw at him.

Until Jean stepped in.

She unleashed her power, burning away his armor and the force field that protected him.

It gave way for an opportunity, a way to fight back.

To win.

Hank stood up, rushing over to Scott to break him out of the wall, before running over to you.

“You alright?” He asked, helping you onto your feet. You nodded, ignoring the ringing pain in your head.

“This is it.” You exclaimed, making your way over to Scott as you conjured up as much power as you could.

The combined attacks were finally hitting, metal slicing through him as he was burned by not only Scott’s beams of energy, but your flames.

You didn’t stop when the force field came back up, trying to force the fire past it.

“He’s getting away,” Hank said, nearly defeated.

Just as you began to give up hope, lightning strikes came down on him from above. The force field melted away, along with the mutant that had terrorized you and your friends.

“All is revealed.” As he spoke his final words, Jean’s power grew, and you watched him crumble into nothing.

You stood there in the silence, relishing in the fact that you were all okay, all alive. Everyone settled, finding their own places; Hank took Scott back up to the professor, letting you go to Peter.

“Hey,” He perked up at your voice, grinning.

“Nice one.”

You shrugged, taking a seat next to him. “It was mostly Jean.”

“Still, that was one hell of a fight.” He leaned back, wincing in pain slightly. You nodded, closing your eyes.

Footsteps made your eyes snap back open, relaxing when you saw Erik. For a moment you wondered if he was here for Peter, but his gaze was focused solely on Raven. You exchanged looks with Peter, having a silent conversation.

You knew, in his own time, he would tell Erik who he was to him.

  -

  When the school was being rebuilt, you stood next to Peter, watching Jean and Erik work their magic. You hadn’t even noticed Ororo – as you found out her name was – approach until she began to speak.

“Mystique told me he is your father.” She said, looking to Peter. “Are you gonna tell him?”

“I might,” he avoided her eyes, choosing to look up at Erik instead. “One day.” He turned to you, hand grabbing yours gently as his gaze softened. “I think for now I’m just gonna stick around here for a while.”

[deepperplexity]

Prompt: 13. Snowed In

A/N: So I got inspired by @blog4snape​ as she tagged me in an ask about my Snape-writing (LINK) where this was also written: "I would LOVE to see more people write about snape's childhood and how it shaped his adulthood. I would love to see more people write about [...] him getting destroyed and building himself back up not as who he was, but who he wants to be. you can see from the way his persona is just a balance of careful, precise movements and high control battling with his turbulent and feral, uncontrollable nature."

I hope you'll enjoy this one; it's a long one!

Setting: A cottage in some snowy mountains

Pairing: Snape x Reader

Word count: 6924

Warnings: PTSD, Anxiety, Panic Attack, Abuse, Confinement,  Sexual/Sensual Content (nothing explicit), SO MANY EMOTIONS

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // SNAPEMAS POST

Prologue: You had found Severus three years ago, he was standing on death's doorstep at the end of The Battle of Hogwarts. After months of hard work, he had been healed and was physically restored to his former glory. But you were in hiding, still. His fear of retribution for the actions he had done as a double agent haunted him and the fact that he was a celebrated hero after Harry Potters revelations about him did little to ease that fear. But you loved him, dearly. And so, you stayed with him in hiding. This was your third Christmas together and you had convinced him to holiday at a cabin up in the mountains. You had made sure that he knew no magic could find him there, neither for anyone to magically appear at the place was possible. It would just be you and him, safe and hidden from the world for his peace of mind.

You had been at the cabin for a few days and it was the day before Christmas. Everywhere hung decorations and by the little fireplace stood a small, gangly looking tree with a tiny little star at the top and some small ornaments that the brittle branches could handle; weight-wise. But you were happy, so darn happy you could burst.

Severus had been sweet and kind, relaxed even. He had tested the wards and tried many times to apparate, he even walked away from the cabin to see how close one could get by apparating. So he had been able to relax properly as you made sure he knew how grateful you were for the little holiday and that he was safely hidden.

"It's still snowing," you said as you looked out the window where snow fell lightly. It was pretty, but there was plenty of snow out there now. Well, that's what you get for being in the mountains I suppose, it's always been like this. Severus just hummed as he read a heavy book by the fireplace that kept the cabin toasty warm. You shrugged and headed off to the little kitchenette to prepare some tea and Christmas cookies.

You sipped your tea as you were sat in a little armchair with a thick blanket over your legs. You just stared at the fire and felt utterly content with life. "You're smiling," Severus murmured, his eyes still on the book in his hands. You giggled. "Well, I'm happy, Sev." He peered up at you with raised eyebrows. "Is that so?" You nodded hastily as he gave you a tight smile. It was a small smile but every smile he gave meant the world to you as it happened so rarely. "I'm glad to hear it," he said before his eyes were averted back to the book that seemed endless.

The wind howled and snow swirled outside the windows. It was so thick that you couldn't even make out anything of the outside world. You had both been lost in silent happiness with a book each and time had flown by. The fire was about to die out when you stretched your arms towards the ceiling. Should add some more- oh, we're out of firewood... You looked towards the window with a heavy sigh. Guess I have no choice, you thought as you removed the blanket and rose.

"Where are you going?" Severus asked as you were getting dressed in the thickest of winter clothes. "Oh, we're out of firewood," you said as you pulled the hat down low to protect your ears, "I'm just gonna go grab some." He peered up at you before he put away his own book. "It's storming outside, don't be silly." You tilted your head towards him. "Well, it will get damn cold in here if we don't get more wood." "I'll go," he simply said. "But I'm already dressed." "Then get undressed," he said in that thundering voice and you could not help the coy smile that spread across your lips as his cheeks seemed to take on a small blush.

"I did not mean-, that is not what I-" You chuckled at him as he struggled for words. "I know Sev, I know," you laughed out as you began to take off the jacket, hat, boots and scarf as he muttered and grumbled words you couldn't quite make out. You found him to be adorable. Yes, truly adorable. He usually never said things he didn't mean, he rarely spoke about feelings or such things. He rarely misspoke so when he did you found him so adorable with his blushing cheeks and grumbling that truly was a rare sight.

Severus got dressed and you hung a scarf around his scarred neck to protect it from the howling storm outside. He let you tie it and then gave your forehead a quick kiss. You stroked him on his arm and kissed his cheek with a soft smile on your lips. You did truly love the man and every time his body made contact with yours - in any way - your heart pounded and your legs felt a bit like jelly. "Be back in a moment," he hummed and his deep voice vibrated through you despite the low volume he spoke in. You simply nodded and turned to prepare some dinner in the meantime.

But you barely had time to take three steps before he spoke again. "What in the-" he murmured, "It, it won't-, it's blocked," you heard and you immediately recognised the change in his voice. The rise and the slight tremor. Anxiety, oh no... "What?" you asked as you turned towards him. "It's blocked, we, we can't get out!" he roared and you flinched for a second as he sounded utterly desperate and nearly angry. You had never heard him like that before.

"Calm down, Sev, we'll push together," you said as you walked over, in an attempt to keep your voice light you talked with a smile. He tugged and pushed at the door with rushed movements. "We're trapped, we're trapped, trapped-" he growled through gritted teeth and you could see his body shifting from a relaxed state to a tense one, a hunching one. It made your chest hurt as your heart ached for him.

"It's okay Sev, it's okay, we-" "WE'RE TRAPPED!" he roared as his face whipped around to yours. His eyes were feral, his expression was that of fear and panic. "Calm down, just breath-" "We're trapped, I'm trapped, I'm trapped-" he half roared and half shrieked as he turned towards the door again and tugged on it. You knew the door opened outwards so you quickly walked over and placed your hands on it. "Push," you said in an attempt to get him to focus on a physical movement as he seemed to get more and more anxious. You had never seen him in such a state. anxiety attacks sure, but the state he was in at that moment was something else.

You both pushed on the door as you did your best to stay calm for him. But he seemed to become more and more besides himself for every second that passed. His breaths came faster, turned more shallow and you could see that he was getting extremely pale, even for him. You placed a  hand on his forearm - gently but firmly. His face whipped around to yours again. You held his stare for a moment.

But it was not enough, usually it helped to centre him through his anxiety. You had seen several of his anxiety attacks throughout the years. But this was different. His eyes were truly feral and closed off. As if he were far far away from you in that moment. You tried hushing and calming him with soft words; saying he would be okay and that he just needed to breathe. But you couldn't get through to him.

"I need to get out!" he screamed as he turned his gaze away from you and kept tugging and pushing on the door. His movements sporadic and his breathing as haggard as if he had run a hundred miles. "Sev, Sev-, Severus stop!" you shrieked as he started pounding on the door with brutal force. His behaviour frightened you to no end. You tried grabbing his arms, tried to stop him from harming himself as he pounded the door so hard you feared his hands would break - or the door would.

You grabbed at him, tried to get him to focus on you, focus on anything but the feeling of being trapped. You didn't know why it caused such distress for him, he had never seemed fearful of being stuck somewhere like this. But he kept screaming about being trapped and slithered his way out of your grip to attack the door over and over. As if he didn't even recognise you, as if you weren't even there.

Finally, as you yourself turned fearful - not for being trapped but for his safety - you went behind him and grabbed his coat. You pulled with all your strength to get him away from the door and as you did so in one swift tug you ended up pulling both of you down on the floor. He half-landed on top of you and the air left your lungs in a rush as his elbow rammed your ribs harshly.

"Severus, stop, calm- calm down!" you nearly shouted once you could breathe as he desperately tried to get away from you it seemed. "Don't-, no don't-!" His voice was different, his body acted differently and you could not recognise him in any way. The man that crawled on the floor towards the door in a desperate need of escaping the confinement he was in seemed like a different being. A different person.

What do I do? What do I do? Why is he-, oh what is going on?! You crawled after him, grabbed at his leg to halt him. "Severus, please sto-" Your cheek stung as the back of his hand had hit you, hard, and you instantly let go of his leg as your head was whipped to the side from the hard blow he had landed on you.

Tears stung your eyes and started to trickle down your cheeks. Fuck, was the only thing you could think as he truly had hit with what felt like all his strength. But you had no time to linger on the burning pain as he was yet again by the door, pounding and screaming. He was shouting at someone to release him. You shook your head, tried to focus and got up on your feet only to run towards him.

You clung to him, held on to him as he hit you over and over on your shoulder, back, arms. His movements were harsh and painful to bear but they were also mindless and erratic. He was not there, it was pure panic and nothing else. "Severus, Sev please, stop, stop, calm down-" you said over and over as you kept your own hurt and pain at bay by sheer willpower to help him, be there for him.

Something happened, everything stopped and he shook violently in your arms as he sunk to the floor with you still hanging around him. You tried to shift your position without releasing him. You cradled his head to your chest as he cried and sobbed. You could make out a few words through the sobbing, but only a few and they made no sense at all.

You held him, cradled him, stroked his hair and hushed as soothingly as you could while tears ran down your own cheeks and you tried to keep your own breathing even despite the fact that you were on the verge of fully crying yourself. "...trapped...he...pain...father...no..." you could barely hear what he was saying but the few words you could hear simply made no sense at all. So you focused on comforting him as he had started to cling to you. His hands fisted the fabric of your sweater as he tried to crush you against him.

It had been hours. Hours. Severus had been in such a deep panic attack that you had just been able to keep him from hurting himself to escape the cottage he felt utterly trapped in. It took all your strength to stay upright and hold him. Your legs were asleep, your back was screaming from the painful position and you were cold. But you did not let go; not for a single moment did you allow your own pain to take you away from him in his horrid state.

Your hand stroked his hair gently as he had finally stopped crying and screaming. Had finally calmed down enough to not nearly kill you by his need to have you close. His body was slowly relaxing and his weight became more noticeable for every minute that passed. He half laid across your folded legs with his head buried in your stomach as his arms were wrapped around your waist.

They slowly glided down, until you were released from his grip and his breathing evened out. You kept holding him, kept stroking him as he went into a deep slumber from the exhaustion of the panic that had coursed through him for so long. He looked as if he were still in distress despite his unconscious state. It hurt, so badly, for you to see him like that. Nothing like the man you knew, nothing like the controlled being he usually was.

You sobbed quietly as he laid there. He had sunk down and his face was resting on your thighs, one arm on each side of you spread out as if he had just collapsed. Basically, he had. He still cried though, his lashes were thick with the salty fluid that trickled down his cheeks and across the bridge of his hooked nose. You leaned forward and planted a soft kiss at his temple before you allowed yourself to release your own tears fully.

His pain was seared into your brain. The feral look, the distance in his eyes, the panic and fear. The pounding fists against the door, the shaking and screaming. You had never seen him in such a state from anything that had to do with the war. This was different; a deeper pain. What have you lived through sweetheart..?

At some point, you had collapsed as well. At some point, you had simply fallen down and not gotten up again. The cold woke you up. You were shivering, your teeth clattered together in a rattle. You groined as you sat up, stiff as a damn fridge. Severus still laid with his head in your lap, yet now there were no tears on his lashes or cheeks. The only light came from the gangly Christmas tree by the fireplace and you could no longer hear the wind howling outside.

Perhaps the storm has passed? You tried to look out the window but you couldn't see anything. It was too dark. So you focused on Severus. He was still sleeping, you tentatively reach out your cold hand to stroke his head. You were shivering badly as the cottage was getting ever colder with no fire and your wands laid in the closed bedroom. So you just focused on him as pain tore through you while the memories of his panic attack surged in your head.

Your cheek still hurt and you felt a swelling just beneath your eye that pounded a bit. Your arms ached as well as your shoulders and back. The areas he had hit you in a desperate need to get out of the cottage, the confinement he experienced to be pure terror apparently. You could not quite understand it, why had he felt such distress? You could only establish that it had something to do with his father and you knew very little of the man.

Severus never spoke about his past, his childhood. You had poked and prodded many times but not a word came from him about it. He only told you his father and mother were no longer part of his life and that was it. No more, no less. Despite your best efforts to get to know him these past three years, it was only recently, the last six months or so, that he had actually begun to open up to you a tiny bit. About the war, his part in it, the things he had seen and experienced. Some of the things he was forced to do.

The horrors of his past were, well, nearly unspeakable. Yet now you knew, there were much more - more darkness and horrors, more fear and pain. How much can one person be expected to go through? you looked down longingly on him. The inky black hair, the pale skin and hooked nose. He was beautiful. To you, he was perfect even through his horrors and dark past.

He stirred, grumbled ever so slightly and then sat up stiffly. He looked around, confused, before he found you with his eyes. They were unclear at first but the distance swiftly disappeared and his focus returned. That usual depth and the intensely examining look were there. Before it was replaced by horror as his eyes widened while he looked at you.

"It's okay," you instantly said as you reached for him, "you're safe, your with me, you're not trapped, you're safe," you said in a soft rush to ease him. But your words did nothing against that look in his eyes. "You're hurt," he said. His voice a dark rumble as he looked at you with that strange expression you were so unused to see. You averted your eyes for a moment only to look back at him again as you needed to see him, see his reactions to help him. "I'm okay, really, I'm fine," you said to comfort him. You had no idea what you looked like but it was truly nothing compared to the pain you had seen him in a few hours ago.

"Did-, I did that?" he growled; mostly at himself, it appeared. You inched closer as you reach for his cheek. He had turned his eyes away from you and you could not bear it. So you turned his head back with a soft push of your cold hand. "I'm good, Sev, really." He grabbed your hand and pressed it harder against his cheek. It looked like some sort of blame battle went through his head but you weren't quite sure. "You're cold." You nodded at the words. He was warm, still clad in the winter clothes he had put on to go out and get firewood.

"Severus, are you-" "Come, let's get you warm." He ignored your nearly completed question and was on his feet faster than you thought possible after having laid on the floor for such a long time. He grabbed your arms, you winched out a hiss at the contact and he instantly let go. His eyes yet again reflected horror as he apparently put two and two together. "I'm okay, I'm okay," you said softly as you stretched your hand towards him. His shoulders hunched and he grabbed your hand to help you up as sadness entered those deep eyes of his.

You were stiff, cold and it felt as though you could barely move. But you rose and allowed your eyes to get stuck in his. A small smile on your lips to soothe him. To ease the horror and sadness that was reflected in them. "Severus, are you-" "We'll take a bath," he stated quickly, apparently desperate to not let you finish asking him if he was okay. And that only meant one thing. He was absolutely not okay. So you nodded and allowed him to lead you towards the bathroom. You knew all too well that nothing could be forced out of him, he'd only speak if he wished to. He'd only let you in on his terms. He'd only give you answers if he were willing to. It had taken many months for you to figure that out as you had asked and asked and asked and pleaded and begged and then begged some more. So you did none of those things. You merely allowed him to lead you physically.

The door closed behind the both of you and you knew what he was doing. He was taking care of you to ease his own pain. He was focusing on you to escape his own horrors. He did that, often. Focused on others to ease himself out of a situation he found hard. Focused on others to forget himself and what he was going through. Focused on doing for others what he truly wished someone would do for him, or at least that was how you saw it.

The tub filled with steaming hot water and Severus added some oils that smelled of autumn and crispness. You just watched him as he moved about; got towels, checked the temperature of the water, moved lotions and creams about, lighted candles and seemingly avoided to look at you through the entire process. It hurt, but you knew it was not intended. It still hurt though.

"I'll get some clothes," he stated before he rushed out of the room without giving you even a glance. You merely sighed and rubbed at your temple as you had to find patience for the man. You wanted to shake him and force him to talk with you. He was obviously in pain and hurting yet he didn't allow you to help; to support him. At the same time, you knew that would not help. He had to do it in his own time. You knew that, but that did not mean it didn't make you angry and made you feel utterly useless for him.

The door creaked open and he placed a pile of clothes on the only chair in the bathroom before he turned off the faucet as the tub was filled. Then, he slowly turned towards you. Something wavered in his eyes as he seemed to ponder on something. "What is it Sev?" you asked softly and he blinked as his eyes met yours before he lowered his gaze. "May, may I bath with you?" he asked and that thunderous voice was as soft as a cloud. You nodded with a smile and he seemed to relax a bit.

"I'll go hang these clothes first," he murmured and headed out. As the door closed you started to undress. The clothes were left in a pile on the floor as you gazed upon yourself, stark naked, in the walled mirror next to the chair in the corner. You were bruised and battered, your skin in various shades of blue and purple across your arms and shoulders. Your left eye a bit swollen and your cheek had a blue tint to it.

You shivered from the cold air in the room as you stepped into the tub in the next moment. Just when you were about to lower yourself into the hot water the door opened and Severus gawked at you. His eyebrows were raised and he seemed frozen mid-step. Then something switched in him. His face contorted into a hateful sneer as he looked at you. Disgust and hate etched in his otherwise beautiful eyes.

Your heart nearly broke in that moment. You nearly shattered beneath his cold, yet burning gaze. The way he looked at you made you feel thoroughly awful. He had seen your naked body before, he had roamed it and kissed it. Stroked it and held it. Many, many times. Yet now, his eyes screamed at you. Made you feel disgusting and hurt. Deeply hurt. You knew it was not aimed at your body, you knew that but could do nothing about the pain he inflicted with such a look.

"I am so sorry," were the words that left his mouth and your tear-filled eyes blinked a few times. His voice was warm, soft, loving. Yet it was weak and painful to hear. "I am, truly, so sorry, (y/n)," he said and his eyes teared up as well. He seemed to deflate in the door frame and your legs could no longer hold you up. You sank into the water with a loud splash as it felt as if he was telling you something else with his words. It felt like a goodbye rather than an apology.

"Are, are you leaving me?" you asked on a low whisper. You could not bear to look at him. To see the galaxies in his eyes that held such depth, the softness of his thin lips, the distinct shape of his nose what's ridge you loved to drag your finger down gently. Your head hung low as the tears flowed freely. What about your Christmas gift..?  Tomorrow, tomorrow is... Or today?

It was a silly thought in the chaos, a fleeting moment of no sense and no logic to the world. A stupid thought of jolly holidays and tight smiles as your world were shattering around you. As he was breaking you in every way possible with his silence, his words that meant something else, his eyes that made you drown and his cold skin that made you shiver in delight. All things he was stealing. All things were tainted with him. All things that were you, belonged to him. You had given him your all. It was everlasting; unchangeable.

His hands were on you in the next moment, he lifted your face with harsh fingers under your chin as he pressed his lips to yours with force and power. Confusion swept through you but his lips claimed your attention. "Never," he whispered against your lips before he kissed you again and again and again.

His thumb stroked away a stray tear as his eyes lingered on yours. "Ask me to leave and I will," he said in a hoarse voice, "Tell me to go and you shall never see me again," he continued in a promise. You blinked at him. Why? It wasn't our fault, you were in a panic attack, you had no control over this... "Tell me," he said again and you shook your head, "tell me to leave so I won't hurt you again." His voice was harsher, more of a growl yet you shook your head again. "I can't leave you, (y/n). I love you."

You gasped at his words, the words you had said to him so many times yet he had never uttered them back to you. Had never told you. Yet now he said them, now he told you and it made you warm to your very core. Emotions raved and rummaged through every corner of your body and soul. "I can't leave you, you need to tell me to leave," he repeated. "I love you, Severus." He stiffened when you looped your arms around his neck. "I love you, Sev. I will love you forever." You kissed him again and another change seemed to happen in him.

Your head was nearly spinning with all the things that happened in such a short period of time as barely anything had happened earlier. There had been short conversations, there had been plenty of lovemaking, there had been barriers and hurdles. But there had barely been any words of the past or emotions, despite the many anxiety attacks and the nightmares. Despite it all, he had barely opened up to you as he was guarded and in pain. Such deep pain that he carried alone. But now, something was different. Something fundamental had changed between him and you, or in him - even in you.

"Bath with me," you whispered and he hummed before he quickly got rid of his clothes and slipped into the tub behind you. seemingly desperate to get closer and hold you for as long as he would be allowed. You felt the rush in him. He cradled you and kissed the top of your head as he was careful not to touch the areas where your skin wore a different colour than the winter paleness. You leaned back and felt his chest hair tickle your back. It was lovely and you allowed yourself to soak it up for the time being. Discussions could be done later.

After a while, the water turned cold. You shivered slightly and he kissed the top of your head again; as he had done many times during the silent time you spent in the tub. "Let's dry off," he whispered and you nodded, exhaustion was creeping in as dawn was spreading its light outside the frosty windows. Your skin shimmered in its shine as goosebumps travelled all over your exposed body.

He wrapped you in a lush towel before he dried himself off and you started to do the same as your gaze drifted across his body. The scars, the marks, the pale skin and the broad chest covered in the softest black hair. Your fingers tingled, wanted to be dragged through it. But then your eyes lingered on the burns that dotted the same chest and something curled, slithered, clawed in your gut.  

He rarely spoke about his past, and even less so about the marks that covered him. You loved him regardless of the markings that covered him in memories of past pain. Loved him deeply, completely. It had not been there at first. The attraction yes, but the love no. It grew during the months you had nursed him back to health. He slipped inside and then he took over your heart, soul and mind. Fully. There was no denying that there would never be another man for you. He was everything.

"You're staring," he muttered and you shook your head as you had zoned out but your eyes still lingered on him. "I zoned out, sorry," you said as you looked away and down. "I know you wonder, that you wish to know, more. But, I cannot..." His words were soft as velvet yet cut deep as a dagger. It stabbed at your self-esteem, gave worth to your thoughts of unworthiness. That you were not enough for him, not worth enough to trust. It hurt, deeply and truly but you simply smiled and nodded. "It's your past, Sev. Not mine," you said as you dried of your legs before you hung the towel and started to get dressed as he was doing the same. But it might be our future... You thought on a tiny sigh.

As you both were dressed you ventured out to the open space that was livingroom, entrance, dining area and kitchenette all in one. It was freezing inside and you shivered despite wearing several layers of clothes. Severus disappeared to the bedroom and you walked over to the window to look outside. It was a beautiful morning but the snow was all the way up to the window seal. You were truly snowed in.

Fear crept through you as Severus entered the room. How was he going to react this time? You had no clue and it made you fearful of telling him, fearful that he'd have another panic attack. He arched a brow at you as you bit your lip. "We're-, we're snowed in." Severus glanced towards the window and nodded. "Appears so," he simply said. You straightened as you looked a tad confused, had that not been why he freaked out yesterday?

With a flick of his wand, he lit a flame in the hearth to heat the cottage despite the lack of wood. With a swift wave of his wand through the room all the candles and lanterns lit up as well. The light was nothing compared to the golden shine that seeped through the windows though. The dust danced in it and you could not help but feel a bit sad as your eyes drifted towards Severus.

"Will you ever tell me? Speak to me?" you asked faintly. Severus stepped over towards you, he split the dancing dust and left it swirling behind him. You stood still, waited for him as he took you in his arms. "You truly scared me," you whispered into his chest as his more controlled, calculated persona seemed to emerge again. As if yesterday hadn't happened. As if it was at most a slip of his careful control. "I am sorry for, marking you..." He seemed unable to use any other word for the hurt he had inflicted physically.

You stepped back, looked up at him. "I don't mean that. I couldn't care less about that. I'm talking about your fear, your horror and I had no idea what to do because you never tell me anything about-" "I can't, (y/n), I truly can not tell you. It, it would break you." His words were rushed as you stared at him. "No, Severus, it would break you. That's what you're afraid of. That it would tear down this wall, all the barriers you've put up. Not me, you're not scared of breaking me, you're scared to break through yourself."

He stiffened at your words and you knew you had hit the spot. That your words rang true for him. "Will you forever keep a wall between you and the world? Will you always separate yourself from all things good, bad, neutral..? From love?" The last word made him stiffen even more as you sighed. "I love you and I need you to understand what that means." "Enlighten me then," he simply whispered. It sounded as if his voice could not be spoken any louder at that moment. You held him tighter for a second before you released the tension that lingered in your aching shoulders.

"I will always be by your side. I will do all things I can for you, for us. I will listen and comfort, I will cry with you, laugh with you. I will be there through the hardships and the pain. I will stand by you through darkness and light. No matter the problem I will solve it with you, no matter the error we will fix it together. No matter what I will trust you and care for you. Exist for you. That is my love for you. And it has no end." You looked up at him, your face set in soft earnest.

"My love has no end. You can't use it up. It does not end by the twenty-fourth scar, it does not end by the thirty-fifth memory or the seventh fight. It does simply not end. It's not a potion that will eventually run out, nor is it a cauldron to be filled and emptied. It's just there, everlasting..." At some point, tears had started to flow down your cheeks as your words were completely honest. As you yourself realised just what you would do, give and be for the man before you.

"That's my love for you." He sighed out a breath as you finished explaining what you felt for him. Silence fell for a little while as you both allowed the words to sink in. You just held each other until you felt as if you would start sobbing at any moment. That's when he spoke.

"I love you as well, fully. It's, I've felt it for quite some time now but I just had no words for it. Love feels, wrong. The word I mean. My mother told my father she loved him and vice versa. Yet he beat her, bashed her, screamed and hurt her feelings countless times," Severus said and you held on to the information he provided. It happened so rarely and to hear him speak of his past made you feel trusted.

"So, that word simply does not do it for me. It's wrong for what I feel for you." You hugged him tighter as he took a deep breath. You knew what he meant, but love had never been sullied for you in such a dark way. "So I find myself lost for words. A word for what I feel, something other than love that is tossed about so freely." "Well, what do you feel when you see me?" you asked with a small smile as your shivering had finally stopped now that the room felt warmer and you were buried in his embrace.

"Well, it sort of hurts in my chest when my heart hammers so fervently and sometimes I feel like I can't quite breathe if I'm not close to you. It's a warm feeling and it's all-consuming. It's like I can't live without you," he said and the words made your knees weak. You even felt a bit heated and dizzy by the power of the words said in his thunderous words. "I'm the air in your lungs?" you asked softly with a sheepish grin. "Truly," he whispered as he held you closely on a small chuckle that vibrated through you via the contact you had with his chest.

After a little while, you leaned back as he did the same. "Are you alright?" you asked with a sincere expression as you were drowning in the galaxies that were his onyx eyes. He gave you a smile, it wasn't tight or small, not narrow at all. It was a smile, a pure smile and your heart skipped a beat in your chest that felt too tight for all the emotions. "I am," he said as he kissed your forehead. "No fear of being trapped?" "No, not now, in the light and when I'm prepared. It's different now," he said and you felt the honesty in his words. Felt it as clearly as you felt his arms around you.

You were both sipping some tea as silence lingered around you. He had finally let you in, finally, he had talked to you. For well over an hour he explained what his father had done. The pain, the torture, the abuse - he had confided in you. He had let you in and you both had many thoughts and feelings to process after that. Hence the tea and silence.

But there was still one thing you could not quite understand; why being snowed in - trapped - had induced such a severe panic attack. Worse than any you had seen him in before. So you straightened a little and looked at him where he was sat next to you on the couch. He was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and the teacup gently held in his large hands.

"A question?" he asked as he obviously sensed your eyes on him. You sighed and placed the cup on the table. "I don't understand the fear of being trapped? Why you got such an extreme reaction yesterday." He looked at you in a sideways glance before his eyes returned to the steaming liquid in his cup. "That's, a long story..." "We have time." He chuckled at that. "Do we?" "Of course we do. We're snowed in, we can't leave for a while and really we can stay as long as we like." It's my cabin, so... Something you had failed to mention earlier to him. Among other things. He had his secrets and you had yours, your wealth was one of them. He never asked and you never told. But perhaps it's time...

"Well, we had a wardrobe, in the basement..." You listened carefully as he started to explain. "And, my father liked to use it as a punishment. Used to lock me up in there. For days. I'll spare you the details, but... He, had a tendency to forget, well, to feed me and my mother was forbidden to go down in the basement. It was his area and only his." You gasped at his words, despite the fact that you did your best to not show the horror you felt. He always seemed to hesitate whenever you did that.

"Sometimes it was just hours, sometimes a day or two, sometimes longer. That was part of it. I never knew how long I would be locked up and I, I do not do well being trapped since." He spun the cup between his hands, rolled it against his palms and you inched closer. "Severus, I am so sorry you had to live through that." He looked at you at those words. "I am sorry you had to know about it." "Sev, sweetheart, never feel sorry for things not in your control. And never feel sorry for telling me things. I want to know everything about you, everything you are willing to trust me with," you said softly as you curled up by his side after he had put down the cup next to yours on the little wooden table.

He placed his arm around you carefully and his thumb stroked up and down your arm gently. He smelled divine, as usual, and the fragrance of him soothed something deep inside of you. Your bruises ached but you could not have cared less in that instance. "Your the air in my lungs," you whispered. "Your the beating of my heart," he answered and you snuggled closer. A smile covered your lips despite the horrible images that flickered and flashed through your head. His memories.

You tilted your head and his lips found yours. Tenderly soft kisses were gifted between the both of you as something settled in you. Hope, for a future with him. Hope that he'd give you his trust and love. In his way. Perhaps, one day, we will know all there is to know about each other. The thought made you smile against his lips. "What?" "Happy," you said and he chuckled before he lifted you up in his lap to get closer.

You kissed his nose, his cheeks, his jaw and his exposed neck as his hands snaked around you. Held you steadily as you felt him grow beneath you. "My air," you whispered against his throat where you felt his pulse quicken. "My heartbeat," he murmured in a growl and then he pulled you against him in such a rush you nearly lost your breath. He cradled you and you felt him cry. Felt him shake and vibrate. But this was different than any other time. Now, it was in joy that he cried.  

So you held him. He cried silently with only some whispered words of remorse and how he wished he was a better man for you. You let him say those things to get them out. You could talk about that some other time. "I am so happy to have you," he whispered into your neck. "And I you," you answered as you stroked his back gently. "I will talk more, so this never happens again. It is within my control not to harm you, to not be like him in any way," he said in a rumbling murmur and you burst out in tears.

You cried as the pain was realised from its confinement. You cried as he promised to do what he hated most for your safety. You cried as he was willing to open up to get past his own memories and make new ones with you by his side. You cried and then you both ended up fervently kissing through all the emotions.

Some sort of happy ending was not out of reach for the two of you and you would make damn sure he would feel loved and safe every day. You would love him through it all - the pain and the sorrow, through the joy and the comfort of love. You would love him as he loved you. "My air," he whispered against your swollen lips. "My heartbeat," you replied with ragged breathing as he gently laid you down on the couch and kissed you senseless...

Oh gosh, this is so long but I really needed to write this out properly <3

But, I do want to say one more thing! DO NOT RESTRICT A PERSON IN A PANIC ATTACK UNLESS IT WILL SAVE THEIR LIFE! Restriction may cause further panic and every person is different in this. Some need sound, some need a soothing hand on the knee, some need to be cradled and some need only supervision. Everyone is different and before you hold someone in a panic attack try other things that are less restrictive first, unless you know the person needs to be held. <3  

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[Dec:2020]

[cuddle-me-slash-bear]

Horny Woman Gets Plowed by Stranger, More at 11

A/N 1: I'm on mobile so I'm terribly sorry there's no cut. This was crossposted from AO3. This may not be the best, but it is rated EXPLICIT.

A/N 2: Howdy all! I'm a slut for Vincent, so much so that he's made me want to write for the first time in 6 years, and my first smut no less. Due to that, this is extremely turbulent. I wrote this over the course of two weeks so I probably lost my track a lot. Vincent is no doubt OOC. No beta, all mistakes are my own. Comments and criticism VERY much appreciated!

Description: Vincent Finds you hot and needy.

You don't know if it's the hot Louisiana air or the fact that you haven't seen another person in a week, but you just want to get split open as soon as possible. It's a good thing you've already made camp, because you can hardly stand how horny you are right now.

Now it's time to unwind inside your nice little tent, and riffle through your bag in the dark for exactly what you need. Your fingers run along the rubber ridged shaft, and your underwear gets impossibly wetter at the prospects of it filling you completely up. Shimmying your pants off, you get right to work at pulling your underwear to the side and lubing the toy with your slick, all the while pinching your nipples.

You moan freely at the prospect that you saw no 'private property' sign. Being miles out from the city sure has it's benefits, you think, teasing your hole with the head of the toy. There's rustling to the right of your tent, and you can feel your pussy clench in excitement. Could be a person come to fuck you out of your misery, but what the hell are they doing out here in the middle of nowhere? It's a deer, you reassure your almost disappointed mind, finally shoving the toy inside you.

Oh goood, the slide is so agonizingly amazing that you don't even try to stop the whimper that crawls up your throat. You take a deep breath and realize just how tense you are. You hold the protrusion in place while you move your legs and stretch, feeling pleasure piling on itself in different ways. Relaxing, you prop a leg up and lazily pump the toy inside and out. The sounds coming from your soaked pussy sound absolutely sinful, and it's a crying shame there isn't a fat cock to ease your burdens right now. The rustle sounds again, and accompanying it is a tall and broad shadow crossing the front of your tent. The clench is accompanied by a harsh pulse that you can feel in every muscle, exhilarating and spine-tingling. Whoever is out there has already heard you moaning like a whore, so no sense in beating around the bush. You hope he wants to beat around your bush.

You call out in a breathy voice, "Are you going to help me out, or just hide?" The figure stops in their tracks, and you can see their shadow widen as they turn towards the opening of the tent. You're no stranger to sex with strangers, partaking in a glory hole more than once.

Pulling out the toy, you toss it to the side before sitting up and ripping the tent's flap to the side. You remember the air being stifling outside, but when your head pokes out, all that hits your cheeks is a cool breeze. Right in front of your face is the stranger, towering and powerful. If you hadn't pulled that vibrator out, your juices would be running down it amidst your climax. "Well? Care to join me, stranger?" The man looks behind himself, before looking down at you and crouching. Fuck yes! Some perverted angel took pity on you. Scrambling to the side, you allow the man to crawl in and situate himself on the farthest side of the tent from you.

"Oh come on honey, you just heard me about to cream my panties. There's no room to be shy here." You lean on your hands and knees and crawl towards him, before noticing his face is very unchanging. "Are you wearing a mask?" You stop at his feet and sit on your haunches. He seems to be looking at everywhere else but you, before nodding and scooting back just a bit farther. "You can keep it on, but I will take these off," you smile deviously as you untie his boots, caked with dry mud, and toss them behind you. You tug at his ankle, urging him to scoot and lay down. Once he's propped against your pillow, you throw your leg over his hips and grind yourself along his hardening member. You bend, and make sure to press every inch of your torso to his before you nuzzle your face into his neck and nip at his ears. "Before this goes any further, I'll ask you for a color. Green means keep going, yellow means pause, and red means stop. I expect you to be honest when you answer me. Do you understand?" His cock twitches, and he nods. You wonder how far you could push this guy, but you don't want to scare him off. Not when your cunt is clenching this pathetically around nothing. His breathing gets heavier, made worse by the mask he has on. You steal a glance up at his eyes, and can see the shine in one. Planting your hands on his biceps, you set a rhythm of gyrating your underwear clad cunt along the seam of his jeans and moan under your breath with him.

"You're wearing too much," you mewl, tugging at his jacket and sweater. You're not moving from this spot on his lap, so you pull him into a sitting position to help him strip. He pulls off the layers one by one, each letting his hair cascade along his shoulders and creamy skin. You push him back down, lovingly moaning as you kiss and nibble at parts of his neck. "You smell heavenly, and you look even sexier." A whining noise sounds from in his throat, and you get just a bit wetter. You chance a look down…. Yup. You've soaked a patch into this dude's jeans. "Look at how bothered you've gotten me." He looks from your face down to where your eyes are glued, and he throws his head back with a groan. Your lips return to his neck, trailing down to his collarbone to suckle a hickey just below neckline. "Now you won't forget me so easily," you smile at him as your lips travel a little further down to his pert nipples. Pink and mouthwatering, you take one in your mouth gently and swirl it around. Your tongue has him arching his back up and choking on gasps. His legs bend, which pushes you just a little higher and just a little firmer into his chest. You come up for a second and firmly ask, "Color?" A glance at his sides shows he's clinging to your comforter like a lifeline.

"G-gree-een!" The first word he's said to you, and it's urging you to continue. A raspy reply, cut off by his stuttering breaths and moans. You giggle, and say, "You can touch me, ya know." You watch as his eye settles on different parts of you, too frazzled to choose…

"Here," you take his right hand in yours, and bring it to the back of your head. "Run your fingers through my hair, and pull." He does just that, but instead opting to do it a few inches from the tip of your hair. You let out an involuntary 'Ow!' The stranger's hand recoils, and you rush to console him.

Still giggling, you ask, "You haven't ever pulled hair before, have you?" His gaze refuses to lock on yours, slowly shaking his head. "Let me show you." You sit him up again, lightly grazing his skin all the way to the back of his neck, before raking your nails along his scalp to the center of his crown, gathering the hair there. "You slide your hand along the base of my head…." You breathe out, feeling the straps of his mask clasped in-between soft locks of silk, "and gather the hair there. Then you pull, honey." You demonstrate on him, earning a soft 'Fuck…' and a shiver. "Color?"

"Greeen," he drawls, sounding almost close to tears. He would be absolutely breathtaking when wrecked, you think, switching to the other nipple to lather it with love. The stranger uses his newfound knowledge on you, and you grace him with a deep, sultry moan and a grind across his cock to reward him. He's keening so beautifully, and you can't help but say….

"You sound so breathless, almost like-" The stranger cuts you off.

"A virgin?" Your lips pause their rhythm to gaze past his heaving chest. Eyes connect, and you sit like that for a second.

"Are you?" His visible eye darts to the right, and your pussy clenches painfully. "Holy fuck, that changes things," you moan out, pulling back. He rushes to fill the space you left, whimpering and shaking his head.

His arms circle your waist, locking you to him.

You press against him, and wrap your arms around his shoulders. "I'm not going to stop, but if this is your first, I've gotta make it as special as possible. Considering I've already went ahead and made you hard without being introduced, I'm [Y/N]." Your legs maneuver around his waist, and you use the leverage to rotate your hips in a circle around his straining dick. His head falls to your shoulder, mumbling, "V-Vincent…"

"I like that name, Vincent. Do you still want to continue?" You're soft now, less hasty just so you can make this extremely pleasurable for him. Vincent nods fervently, still bashful even with you being a couple of layers from taking his virginity. A smile crosses your face as he crushes his hips to yours and grinds up, breath shaking.

Your hands slip down, trapped between two scorching bodies to his jeans button. Unbuttoned, unzipped, and now thrown somewhere in your tent. Vincent seems to prefer commando, and now all that's left is your underwear and shirt. Both are gone in a flash, and you're seated right back where you belong, dragging your heated slick along the length of Vincent's dick. It's a good thing you're on top, because Vincent's legs are shaking behind you. From excitement, arousal, all of the above?

You reach down and grasp his leaking member before giving it a few strokes and leaning down to whisper in his ear, "I'm honored to be your first, Vincent." You tease the tip of his aching cock, slowly taking in more each time you descend. Vincent is gripping your hips hard, digging his nails into the meat of your sides. You can feel his cock twitching inside you, hitting your cervix in an uncomfortable way. "Fuck, you're huge…" you cry, rocking back and forth to get some friction on your clit to ease the discomfort. Vincent keens so beautifully underneath you.

"C-close…." He breathes out.

You take one of his hands in yours, and guide it along your sweaty skin up to your breasts, urging to grab and squeeze. "Please?" He twitches again inside you before doing as instructed. At first, a little too softly. You urge him to be a little rougher, and he gets the confidence once his action invokes a guttural moan from you.

Tingles are sent straight to your filled pussy, all of this becoming overwhelming. Your hands glide over Vincent's toned body, brushing his nipples again and humping Vincent to soothe your swollen clit. "Oh fuck, Vincent…" you throw your head back, core heating up. You can feel Vincent's eyes glued to you, and you're aiming to make a lasting impression. And so is he, you think, your pussy will feel his cock's imprint for days after this.

Vincent's legs shuffles behind you to plant his feet on the ground, angling his hips up and completely filling you. "Hah, I'm gonna cum!" You cry, muscles seizing and pussy clenching. You grip his forearms as you roll your spasming cunt to finish, opening your eyes just in time to see him throwing his head back.

"Hmmf-h-HA!" His hips drive up and lift you just a little bit, and you can feel his warm seed filling you up impossibly more. His neck is tensing, and it makes youou want to mark him up.

You don't move off of him, but hunch so you can lay against his chest. Your pelvis is tense, still filled with Vincent's softening cock and load of cum. Catching your breath, you trail kisses all over his collarbones and neck. Bracing your hands on his shoulders, you slowly pull up from him, thoroughly sore and ruined. Before he's even halfway out, his cum starts dripping down on himself, before emptying out completely when his dick pops out. "Fuck, that's hot." You whisper, eyes locked down. Vincent apparently agrees, because his breath hitches. You decide to be mean, and tease him a little. Maneuvering down his body, continuing the onslaught over his skin all the way down, you supply kitten licks over his sensitive flesh, cleaning him. After you feel he's sufficiently clean, you plop next to his sprawled form.

Your eyes feel so heavy. You trail your nails up and down the length of Vincent's back, and before you know it, you've slipped into a deep and comforting sleep.

 

You can see the sunlight even through your eyelids, and hear all kinds of birds and cicadas outside your tent. Giving a good stretch, one accompanied with many pops and soft groans from your mouth, you sit up and look to the side.

Nothing. That's startling, but not surprising. Damn, it would've been nice to at least get his details. But this is an encounter you won't soon forget, that being the best sex you've had in a while. Time to pack up camp and get back on the road, you guess.

It's early enough in the morning that the air isn't so stifling, and you gladly trump down the road in your truck with the windows down, allowing the breeze and Louisiana flora to grace your senses. You hope you'll be able to find a shop or something and ask directions. It's not the end of the world if you don't, but that means another night of camping in your tent. If every tent night ends like last night, you wouldn't mind sleeping in a tent for the rest of your life. You can't get him out of your head, and the vibrating from your old truck certainly doesn't help your moistening cunt. You spy a sign for a neighboring town, and push the gas just a little harder.

[shinsorokiri]

UA Idol | Chapter Eight

Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader

Word Count: 2,005

Warnings: Language

A/N: Ahhhh here we are at Chapter Eight! I can’t wait to write right more for this I really love it, I wish I knew just how long this was gonna be but honestly I have no idea at this point. We’ll see, but for now, enjoy!!!

───────────────────────────────────

“So, you made it without managing to murder Mina, huh?” Shinsou smirks at you, and you roll your eyes. You’d made it to the airport after him, and you had just gone through security. You and Mina had spotted the rest of the contestants sitting and waiting for the plane to start boarding, and among them was Denki and Shinsou. You plopped down next to your tired friend, rubbing your temples in the process. “I was… genuinely so close, Shin. You… you don’t even understand,” you mumble. His laughter brings a smile to your previously frowning face, and you look over at him. “Well, good thing you didn’t because then I would only have Denki throughout this entire trip and I’m gonna be honest, I don’t know if I could do that.”

“You couldn’t. I was thinking of you, congrats, you saved Mina Ashido’s life.” “Wow, didn’t know I’d grow up to be a hero,” he grins at you and you shake your head with a smile. “That was so cheesy, I’m gonna throw up,” you say, and he shrugs. “I only say cheesy things to the people I like.”

“So… me and Denki?”

“And my mother.”

“Oh wow, I’m in the exclusive club, now aren’t I? Mom, Denki, and kitten?” you ask, giving his arm a light push, using the nickname he oh-so-affectionately calls you all the time. He snorts, glancing over at you and shaking his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you are.”

Before you can respond, one of the flight attendants opens the door to the walkway for your plane. Lucky for all the UA Idol contestants, you all were VIPs. Very Important Passengers. Which means, you all got to board first. You and Shinsou are right next to each other, along with Denki and Mina behind you two. “Okay. How long do you think until they realize they’re madly in love and make a move on each other?” Mina whispers to Denki and he scrunches his nose. “I give it… two months. Who do you think will say it first?”

“Shinsou. For sure. And as much as I’d like that two months thing, I think it’ll take at least three. (Y/n)’s a tough nut to crack,” Mina says, and Denki smirks. “Well if she’s so tough, that means she’ll probably crack under pressure, right? She’ll say it first.”

“Well then, Denki Kaminari. Looks like we have ourselves a bet.”

“Looks like we do, Mina Ashido. Also, did you see that one emo girl who never took her headphones out? She’s so fucking pretty.”

“Oh, I know. Personally, I go for the cuter and softer types… like that girl over there, with the black hair and cute face,” Mina subtly motions to the girl she’s talking about and Denki glances. “I respect it, but I wouldn’t pursue it.”  

“Would you two stop talking about your crushes right in front of us? It’s annoying,” Shinsou cuts in, shooting Denki a glare. “Yeah, I preferred your hushed whispers from earlier over the louder lovey-dovey talk,” you add in and Denki and Mina look fake offended. “Excuse me, but I will have you know-”

“Tickets?” Mina gets cut off by the stewardess asking you and Shinsou for your tickets with a big smile. You two hand them over and walk down the hallway to the plane. “I vote we sit far away from them, that way we don’t have to hear about their love lives for these ten hours,” Shinsou says to you and you grin. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You and Shinsou grab your seats, luckily getting on early enough to honestly have your pick. “Let’s get as close to the side door as possible, better chances at surviving if it… well… you know…” Shinsou says, and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Hitoshi Shinsou, are you afraid of flying?”

“What? No. No of course not. Nope. Not at all. It’s not like we’re on a metal death trap floating through the air. What would give you that idea?” he says, sinking in his seat. You give him a sympathetic grin. “Well, don’t worry, okay? If you need any comfort at all through the flight, I’m right here. I’ll protect you, sweetheart,” you tease, trying to take his mind off of the ‘metal death trap floating through the air.’ You’re too busy putting your carry on in the compartment above you to notice the blush on his entire body, which he silently thanks whatever god that exists for, and he scoffs, hoping that it disappears. “Thank you, honey. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You laugh, squeezing your way past him to the window seat. He claimed the aisle seat, probably because he didn’t want to look outside and see just how far up the plane is. You glance over at him to see just how nervous he is, and the poor thing is a total wreck. Without thinking, you grab his hand. “Seriously, Shin. I’m not a big fan of airplanes either. But I’m here for you if you need me.”

He glances down at your hand intertwined with his, and he swears his heart skips a beat. For some reason, every time the two of you touch it feels like he’s put at ease while also being zapped with 100 volts. It’s a feeling he could honestly get used to. He looks up at your face, silently noting the light pink dusting your cheeks. “Thanks, (Y/n). I appreciate that.” The two of you sit in silence, never letting go of the others hand, when the stewardess starts her speech. You two both train your attention on her, but your hands are still entwined the whole time.

You pretended to listen to her, but really all you could think about was how perfect Shinsou looked. You could tell he had gotten even less sleep than usual the night before, but he still looked like the most attractive human being on the face of the planet. And the fact that you two were still holding hands? You didn’t know contact with another person could feel so good. What you didn’t realize is that Shinsou was thinking the same exact thing about you the whole time. The stewardess and pilot’s words went right through one ear and out the other for both of you, so hopefully everything on the flight went okay.

You glanced out the window, staring at the runway. A ten-hour flight to Los Angeles sure was going to hit you hard. If you thought you had insomnia before? Wait til you’re thrown into the epicenter of American Entertainment. You see the runway begin to move, and then feel a tight squeeze on your hand. You look over to see Shinsou paler than usual and gripping your hand and his arm rest ridiculously tight. “Take offs and landings are the scariest parts because that’s when things go wrong and crashes happen most often,” he mumbles and you frown, squeezing his hand back. “It’s gonna be okay, Shin,” you assure him, gently rubbing his hand with your thumb. This seems to help him a bit, but he still looks absolutely horrified. The plane begins its ascent, and he closes his eyes tightly. You squeeze his hand in reassurance, which he gladly returns, and before you know it, you’re in the sky. No crash. Not even any turbulence.

“You can open your eyes now, Shin,” you gently say, and he opens one eye, looking over at you. “Ten hours of this. I’m going to die of anxiety if the plane doesn’t nosedive into the ocean itself,” he says, and you snort, shaking your head. “Shinsou, I refuse to let you die. I will distract you this whole flight, and who knows. Maybe you can get some sleep.”

“Wow, my knight in shining armor,” he says, a small smile gracing his worry ridden face. “How about we watch a movie? Take your mind off of what’s happening right now?” you suggest, pulling out your headphones and plugging them into the tv in front of you. Shinsou nods, following your actions. “Hmmm... what do you want to watch?”

“Uh... how about... this. This is actually a tv show, so technically it will be even more distracting. And it will take longer to finish. We might not even finish, actually,” he says, landing on a show called ‘How To Get Away With Murder.’ You grin, nodding your head. “This will do,” you hum, and you two begin at the same time. The show quickly grabs both of your attention, and before you know it you two are deep into the show. You keep muttering theories to each other, sharing shocked looks at the plot twists, and cringing at the romantic scenes.

After about four episodes, you find yourself leaning against Shinsou, paying more attention to his screen than your own. Albeit, your eyes were starting to become way too heavy to even focus on Annalise Keating and the Keating Five. Shinsou notices, and he himself is getting a bit tired, so he pauses the show for both of you. He then wraps his arm around you, solely to get more comfortable. Definitely not because he just... wants to hold you. No. Ew. Gross. Totally not. But his heart does almost jump out of his chest when you snuggle against him. He can’t help the smile from spreading across his face as he rests his head on top of yours. His eyes slowly close, and he drifts off into a deep sleep.

“Holy shit, Mina.”

“Huh? What?”

“Look. They’re sleeping,” Denki whisper screams, frantically pointing at the two of you. “Oh… my god. They are literally perfect for each other,” she practically squeals, and Denki violently nods his head. “This is the cutest shit I’ve ever seen, I need to document this moment,” Denki says, taking a picture of the two of you. “Please send that to me, I need it,” Mina says with a shit eating grin. “Of course, of course,” Denki smiles, immediately sending it to her. “At this rate, maybe they’ll get together sooner than either of us thought?” Denki suggests, and Mina considers it for a moment. “Maybe, but I am telling you, (Y/n) is very… skeptical when it comes to relationships. I know it looks like they’re super flirty and already a couple but if he mentions it too soon then… there’s a good chance she will sprint away from the situation and never talk to him again. Sadly.”

“Ah, I see. Well, I would like for it to happen sooner than later, but Shinsou isn’t the best with emotions. He feels them, and he feels them a lot, but he hates them. So, he pretends he doesn’t feel them and in doing so he ruins every romantic opportunity he ever has,” Denki says and the two of them stare at each other for a moment. Suddenly, they both get smiles on their faces. “Looks like we just need to gently push them together, then, eh?” Mina wiggles her eyebrows and Denki nods. “Oh. One hundred percent.”

“Look at us. Being little matchmakers,” Mina says, winking at Denki. He laughs and shakes his head. “Yeah, well, if you don’t match make me too, I’m gonna be pretty upset about it,” he says, and Mina rolls her eyes. “Oh please, trying to find someone who could deal with your hyperactive ass is too much to ask of me.” “Damn, Mina. Hurtful.” “Don’t hate me because I speak the truth. Let’s just focus on Shinsou and (Y/n), okay? Cause let’s be real, you don’t need me to help match you up with someone. Besides, I caught your ‘cute emo girl who never took out her headphones’ staring at you while we were getting settled into our seats.”

“Yeah? Well, I saw your soft girl with the black hair check you out when you put your bag in the overhead.”

And with that, Denki and Mina fist bump.

[vegetacide]

Sleepless

Veg●notable: So... this popped into my head.. wrote it.. and here we are.

Any mistakes are purely my own...

Characters: Kayo/Virgil, Jeff Tracy

General warning: Just a little gropey

Word count: 4541 words

Time: Middle of the night. Crack past when regular people would be sleeping

Location: Lounge balcony, Island

Summary: Someone is having a hard time sleeping.. stuff happens. Embarrassment ensues.

Enjoy!

o0o

Virgil sat upright with a jolt, the feeling of foreboding and dread chasing him into the land of wakefulness. Breath heaving, heart pounding a rapid staccato in his chest, he scrambled up his rumpled bed until his back found the headboard and kicked his legs free of the tangle of linens.

Croaking out a command, the shadowy remnants of the nightmare which had been plaguing his slumber vanished as the soft, pre-programmed lighting illuminated the quiet space of his room. Reassuring him that he wasn’t actually hanging from a mountain a mere finger’s width away from a trapped climber..

Cursing softly to himself, he racked a hand through his sleep tousled hair and swung his legs over the side of the bed resisting the urge to shiver as the temperature controlled air breezed over his sweat soaked back.

Slouching he braced his elbows on his knees and rubbed the exhausted fog from his eyes. The dream had felt so real, the blistering cold, the blinding wind, the burning chill in his chest as he desperately tried to stretch those last few centimetres.

He’d been so very close yet not close enough. The climber’s pleading voice, hoarse from screaming grew quiet and an odd calm of realization had settled over the indistinguishable features of their face. A dark truth had been registered, that salvation was not in the cards for them.

In that instant Virgil had recognized the climber’s sudden intent and throwing all caution to the bitter mountain wind, he’d lunged. His thighs coiling then thrusting him out and away from the purchase of the ledge he’d been dangling from and just as he started to free fall, the climber let go…

He stared down at his hand and frowned at the slight tremble in them. Clenching them a few times and dispelling the dull phantom ache he felt from the situation that had been conjured from the depths of his own subconscious.

Catching the dim, blue numerals of the digital display on his night stand, Virgil exhaled wearily and with a grunt of effort pushed to his feet. A couple hours of sleep was better than no sleep at all but after three straight days of this, the lack of a full eight was starting to wear on him.

His brothers always razzed on him for his late morning sleeping habits and it looked like it was going to be no different once the sun decided to crest the horizon. Little did they know though that his penchant for daytime slumber was more out of a dire need than laziness on his part.

He’d suffered the insomniatic spurts for a large part of his adult life. Some due to traversing multiple time zones on a regular and completely throwing off his natural circadian rhythm and other from an over-active mind that just ceased to shut off at a reasonable time.

He’d tried various sleep aids over the years, from the medicinal variety to the drinkable kind with a percentage stamped on the side of the bottle but neither of them were long-term solutions. Both had side effects that were detrimental to his chosen career path. Hard to concentrate on a rescue in a drug induced fog or function effectively with a hangover. He knew that from experiences and both were definitely something he didn’t want to try or risk again with lives on the line.

So letting the brotherly teasing just roll off him was his preferred dénouement. As for the twilight hours from dusk till dawn? He filled those lonely hours with copious midnight sessions in the island gym, or with twilight maintenance work on his ‘Bird. The latter had been done so frequently that he could reassemble Two’s VTOL thruster assembly blindfolded, one hand tied behind his back and with a set of nail clippers as his only tool…. On the rare occasion when the exhaustion wasn’t too intolerable, he’d even break out his art supplies. Usually though his creative muse would be out cold in a corner somewhere so his productivity on those nights was severely lacking and whatever he managed to produce was subpar at best.

No one ever saw those works of so-called “art”. They were tucked away in the far back corner of his art studio saved from the trash for some reason he was unable to wrap his head around despite the fact that he loathed them for their complete ineptitude.

Crap results or not, it served its purpose of distracting his mind from whatever it was that was preventing him from dreamland and he found that on more than one occasion he managed to just stumble off to bed again before the rest of the house had roused to start their day. Hiding the fact that sleep had been evading him and effectively staving off both the worry wart that was Scott and matriarchal commandeering presence of his Grandmother.

Though these days, he had the added pressure of dealing with the wandering presence of his father as well. Who seemed to ghost around the house at night as much as he did. Virgil suspected that his father was still adjusting to being Earth side and except for one instance had managed to avoid him.

Jeff Tracy’s sleep patterns were erratic at best but that was to be expected after his survival ordeal in the Oort cloud. Virgil knew from a medical standpoint that given time his father would eventually adjust but in the meantime, he would have to play a one sided version of cat and mouse with the man just so he didn’t set his father’s somewhat questionable mental stability for a spin. He had enough on his plate to deal with already, he didn’t need the added weight of his second oldest son’s problems on top of it.

Giving his head a shake at the direction of his thoughts, Virgil made his way over to his closet. If he let his mind drift in that way for too long he would find himself down a rabbit hole he would have a hard time finding his way out of. At the moment he didn’t have the mental stamina or the wherewithal for it either.

Reaching blindly into the dark depths of his closet Virgil rummaged around until his fingers came across the soft cotton of a well loved pair of track pants. Slipping the loose folds of worn fabric over his legs he contemplated his options for the rest of the night and just couldn’t drum up the energy to make a decision.

Catching a glimpse at his bed out of the corner of his eye he knew that staying in his room wasn’t on the table. Turning, Virgil made his way quietly on bare feet out the door and towards the stairs. Maybe something good would be on late night TV but knowing his luck as of late it was unlikely. At this point though it was better than coming up with an alternative. He’d already gone over Two with a fine toothed comb and his muscles were still recuperating from the previous nights work out. Last thing he wanted to do was to end up with a work out related injury. He was already pushing safety parameters on call outs as it was and a sprain or strain was going to have him benched for sure

---

Ten minutes of channel surfing was all it took before Virgil hit the fed up phase of his evening. Abso-fucking nothing on TV. Nothing at least that could keep his attention. Tossing the remote somewhere to his left, he shoved up to his feet, grabbed his glass off the low table and headed out on to the balcony to watch the light show of a storm that was passing by off-shore.

Leaning his elbow on the railing overlooking the pool he watched the play of light as it rumbled across the dense cloud cover. By the looks of it, the storm was shaping up to be a big one but all their scans told them it would keep well to the South of their island home. Even as far out to sea as it was, the winds were starting to pick up and Virgil could hear the storm surge as it crashed against the shoals and rocky outcroppings far below the family villa.

Losing himself to the slashes of lightning that danced across the heavens in a vibrant display of scorching white streaks buffeting, turbulent bruise coloured clouds that in an instant succumb to the abysmal void of inky black. He could feel in his bones that beep bass rumbles that followed. Thrumming through the Earth, cement and rebar of his home up though his feet and the oppressiveness of its ferocity weighed on him. Even all these many miles away the might of Mother Nature could be felt. He just prayed that no one was stupid enough to be out in that mess.

“Fingers crossed.”

*-*-*

It hadn’t been her intention to startle him. Far from it and it wasn’t like she was trying to be quiet about her approach. Virgil had been just so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed her standing beside him contemplating the stark contrast of light and shadows across the expanse of his tense back and heavy shoulders.

“Shit… Kayo, you scared the crap out of me.” He heaved a sigh, settling his weight against the railing again.

“Sorry, didn’t mean too but I was just agreeing with what you said.”

Puzzled eyes turned towards her and a thick brow arched in question to her statement.

Mirroring his pose, she gave his shoulder a nudge with her own before pointing a finger off towards the churning storm. “That no one is stupid enough to be out in that.” She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he processed her words, noting the stiffness to his posture, the way the darkness hung like a bruise under his tired eyes and the paler of his skin. Even in the limited lighting he looked more ghost-like than human.

He gave a grunt of understanding before turning back to watch the storm and lifting his tumbler to the distant clouds in a salute. “Here’s to hoping.” The last dregs in the glass disappeared in short order as he tossed it back. The whiff of whiskey wafting her way as he set the empty vessel on the railing between them.

“I thought you were on rota tomorrow?” She questioned as she eyed the glass and wondered how much had been consumed.

“I am.” His eyes followed hers and he gave a shrug but no further explanation and Kayo didn’t press.

She’d basically grown up with the man and his brothers so she trusted his judgement impeccably but there was still something bothering her about the whole scene. Something felt off..

“You okay?” She was never one to bat around the bushes and her gut was very seldom wrong especially where it concerned the man beside her. The man she’d stopped seeing as a sibling sometime ago and started seeing as something else entirely. It was something that started to blossom one unforgettable snowy night the previous November in New York but neither of them had had the time to tend to since…. Other more pressing things had gotten in the way and there was now another Tracy planet side and returned from the dead as a result.

Maybe now…

He gave a shrug and he shifted to look at her, the wind blowing in off the coast tousling his unstyled hair in a roguish way across his brow. “I’m fine, nothing to worry about.”

He was holding something back, she could tell. Something eerie lurked in his tired walnut gazed. Shifting across the usual vivid depths like the smoldering haze after a wildfire. Dampening what was usually brilliant and clear.

She stepped towards him, her hand reaching to cup his check. The unshaved scruff rough against the palm of her hand. “I’m a good listener if you need an ear.”

He turned into her embrace, brushed his lips over the soft flesh of her hand in silent thanks and smiled at her. “Kinda a prerequisite in your line of work.”

Her own lips quirked up. “Growing up in a house full of testosterone it was a necessity or I would never have been able to sneak out at night with five over protective brothers.”

Virgil chuckled, some of the murkiness leaving his eyes. “Point taken.”

She let her hand drop and a flash of something like disappointed flickered across his brow.

His breath fanned across her face as he sighed, the light fragrance of whiskey warming her. “So…” she said, crossing her arms and emitting the air of stubbornness she was known for. “Spill already.”

A heavy shoulder lifted, the light cast through the open lounge doors catching on the planes of thick muscle with the movement and she couldn’t resist brushing a hand over the warm skin.

“Rough night, that’s all.”

“Can’t sleep again?’

He looked surprised at her question and she had her answer without him saying a word.

“Virgil, I specialize in security. I am well aware of your night time routine.Two has never run better and the gym equipment requires a break from you before you actually break it. Besides,” She added admiring the way his biceps bunched as he rested his hands on his hips, “You get any bigger you won’t be able to fit down Two’s chute”

A soft curse slipped past his lips. It was obvious that he’d thought that his attempts to avoid his family had been successful.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t or wont say anything to Scott.” Her fingers gave his shoulder a light squeeze of reassurance. “If it gets worse I know you’ll do the right thing and say something yourself. You’re dealing with it right now in your own way and you have a right to your own privacy and council. Just, if you wanna talk...” she stalled out on her offering, shifting her gaze away from his to take in the night around them as heat started to colour her cheeks.

A moment later his fingers danced across her brow and she sucked in a breath as he gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His strong musician’s fingers lingered until she met his eyes again.

He was looking down at her, so close now that the bare skin of his chest brushed hers with every breath. He seemed to be sturdier now, more so then when she’d discovered him looking despondently at the storm. An assuredness that had been missing before seemed to have returned to the strong line of his jaw and the tension she’d seen in his posture was gone. There was a shift in the air around him, almost anticipatory in nature and she felt a thrill run down her spine.

Her pulse kicked at the heat imbued in his eyes as he gently angled her face towards his own. She stammered, not able to finish off what she had been about to say. “..uh..talk about....”

“Thank you, Tin’ He whispered, the oaky tang of alcohol ghosting across her lips and effectively stopping her uncharacteristic fumbling.

It took but a nanosecond for her brain to go from a midair stall out to ignition. Her inner monologue screamed, demanding that she act. Only the slightest of movements would be needed to bridge the distance between them. An easy contraction of muscles and she could push up on her toes, silencing all other words with the meeting of their lips. Without further hesitation, she did just that.

Months of denied contact and frustration sprang to the fore, blazing bright and intoxicating. Before either of them were aware, they were wrapped around each other. His strong body flush to her own, his hand tangled in her hair that had somehow between one second and the next come undone from its customary binding.

“God..” she panted, barely recognizing her own voice. His lips skimming across her flesh, trailing like fire down her neck to that spot that made her world flip on its axis. Light headed she scraped her nails down his back. Seeking purchase as her knees grew weak.

“I’ve missed you…”

He emitted a groan of approval. The sound heady, potent and oh so primal. It was almost her undoing and the burn within her flared.

Desperate for more and caring little about where they were standing, she slipped her hand between them...

The sudden intrusion of a throat clearing had them springing apart so fast that she almost lost her footing and she gracelessly plopped down on the nearest lounger. A feeble attempt on her part to save face. The instantaneous lack of Virgil’s body heat made her shiver and it sobered her mind faster than any cold shower could.

One of the overhead lights flicked on and the silhouetted figure at the balcony door came into sharp focus. A short striped housecoat was sashed neatly at a trim waist and slippered feet scuffed lightly over the flooring as the head of the house stepped out onto the balcony. In one hand he swirled a glass of water. Condensation dribbling over faintly scared hands as the ice cubes tinkled with the rhythmic movement.

“Tanusha,” He greeted, one proud eyebrow arched high over suspicious eyes as he scanned over the breathless pair. “Son.”

*-*-*

Fuck… that was all that came to mind as Virgil gaped at his father though he knew better than to voice the expletive.

Reaching out a hand, he grasped at the railing and wished his own long forgotten glass wasn’t so empty.

How in hell was he going to explain this?

He peered over to Kayo hoping that she could provide something, anything that might salvage the situation. The stunned deer-caught-in-the-headlights look he found though didn't bode well.

His first attempt to speak caught in his throat and he cleared it self consciously before risking a quick glance down to assess his person. Thankfully everything was where it should be and mercifully, PG...well...kind of.

“...Dad…It’s late, what are you doing up?”

Jeff blinked at his son then held up his glass, the answer obvious. “Hydrating, as I can see you have been doing too.”

“Oh..ya that… just a night cap.”

“And you’re on call in the morning?” It was said more like a statement than a question and Virgil did his best to hide the wince at the hidden reprimand.

His father turned to Kayo, effectively dismissing the subject from further conversation as he was well aware that his message had been received loud and clear.

Virgil did a fast and stealthy re-adjustment of his pants and groaned internally. Chances were by morning he would find that his shift had been rescheduled and he was going to need to dodge the Scott Tracy hairy eyeball all day. An unwritten rule that all the younger brothers were well aware of; never mess with the Commander’s schedules. It was some old hang up from his military days that he’d never grown out of to the detriment of the rest of the island. As unpredictable as Scott could be when on mission, at home you could figure out the time of day by what the eldest was doing. From his morning jog right down to when he grabbed the daily stock reports and headed to the bathroom.

It was kind of freaky actually. The man’s bowels were perfectly timed, no matter the food that went in...even if it was Grandma’s cooking.

Giving the back of his neck a rub, Virgil surmised he spent far too much time with his brother, far, far too much time.

Well with the exception of playing a tantalizing round of ‘avoid the angry, overly concerned big brother’… at least he could attempt to catch up on some sleep.

Ding! Bright side!...Crap.

“Tanusha, didn’t know you were back on the island. How was the flight in?”

“Uh.. hell of a cross wind on approach, ” Kayo finally piped up, returning once more to her feet. Her security agent persona nailed firmly back into place. “But nothing Shadow couldn’t handle.”

“Hmm, glad to hear it. You’ll have to let me take her for a spin sometime.” His father said all conversationally as if that fact that his second eldest and basically his adoptive daughter hadn’t just been about to get it on right there on the balcony like a pair of randy teenagers.

Jeff tipped his chin in the direction of the storm. “Nice light show.”

Virgil caught a hint of a grin on his father’s face that was not quite hidden behind a careful sip of water. The man knew exactly what he was doing and he was loving every minute of it.

“Uhhh… ya. It is.” Well, this was definitely awkward and his father was sadistic. Now would be a fantastic time for John to call down with a situation.. Somewhere.. .Anywhere.. For anything.. Like a cat stuck in a tree in say like Alaska...right now…

Kayo nodded her head in agreement and mouthed an apology in Virgil’s direction when Jeff turned to take in the view. “Well, it’s been lovely talking to you both but duty call.” She glanced down at her wrist as if to check the time but really it was to avoid the pleading look on Virgil’s face. “Canada’s about to come online and they owe me a report on last week’s protocol updates.”

Virgil’s shoulders slumped..

“Good night, Tanusha.”

“Good night, Jeff.” And she slinked off into the house, holding her head high despite that fact that there was still a healthy glow of red riding her cheeks.

Jeff shifted his attention back to Virgil. “So..you two were just,” He actually stopped mid sentence to emphasize his point with finger quotation. “Talking ?”

Exhausted beyond measure, embarrassed within an inch of his life and, if he was going to be truthful to himself; horny as hell…Yup, this evening was summing up to be a real shit show.

Crossing and uncrossing his arms, Virgil really wasn’t sure what to do with himself. It wasn’t like he was a teenager anymore. He was a grown man, of course he had relationships of a romantic nature.. He wasn’t a monk, by any stretch of the imagination but this was his father and old habits apparently did die hard.

Despite the length of time his father had been absent and the fact the family dynamic in the house was still adjusting to the patriarch’s return, Virgil felt like he’d somehow regressed back to a sixteen year old again. Caught making out with his highschool girlfriend on the couch and trying to make up excuses for the state of their undress.

The smile on his father’s face told him though that the man was well aware of his son’s floundering.

“Relax, son.” A humorous snort followed and he wandered over to stand beside him, leaning casually on the railing. “ I believe we had that conversation about the birds and the bees when you were eleven. You’re a grown man, I’m not going to fault you for looking for a bit of peace and comfort. ”

Virgil studied the ground, his mind drifting to the woman that had so captured his attention. He’d been skirting around how he felt in regards to her for months and he still had doubts if it was right of him to feel the way he did. To revise their adoptive familial relationship to something more intimate after everything they had been though. He often wondered if he was in some way taking advantage… as stupid as that might sound to others he seriously questioned his own motives.

It had been Kayo that had taken the first giant leap though. He shouldn’t have been surprised with her intuition. She’d seen right through him. Tore down all his defenses to expose what he so stupidly thought was hidden from her. Everything all out into the open for them both to see and after that..right into a penthouse suite at the Park Hyatt.

One thing about Kayo, she certainly didn’t waste time when the chips were down. She knew what she wanted and she went for it.

“So, you and our Tin-tin, huh?” Jeff chuckled and Virgil brought his attention back to his father.. “I never would have suspected but seeing you two together just now.. Well, I can definitely say that the pair of you are a good match. Complementary to each other actually.”

Despite his own embarrassment, Virgil started to relax. Relieve that his father seemed fine with what he had inadvertently walked in on. “Its, uh.. still very new.”

“Really?” Jeff questioned, his brows shooting up in mild surprise. “With that chemistry? Reminds me of when your Mom and I were together. After the first few months there wasn’t a lot that could distract us from…”

“Dad!” Virgil all but squeaked. He didn’t think it was possible to fit more blood into his head at that moment but apparently he could. Well at least the blood had stopped pooling somewhere else....thank God..

Jeff raised a placating hand and his words carried a laugh in them. “Okay, okay. I will spare you the details. The point being, the pair of you look good together and I must admit even with me still trying to get the lay of the land around here… you two fit and if it makes the pair of you happy, then I wholeheartedly approve.”

Virgil was speechless a moment. It had been the last thing he expected. Approval so easily given from a man he remembered as being rather commanding and if he was being truthful to himself, a bit intimidating.

His father’s time in space had changed him, changed them all in ways they didn't fully understand.

His father placed a hand on his shoulder, his calloused fingers tightening for a brief moment before he turned to watch the storm.

They sat a moment in companionable silence. Father and son, just taking in the light show together, getting reacquainted in a quiet moment while the rest of the house slept on.

It didn’t last long but it was enough to start mending the old tired fences that lay scattered between them. Not broken from misuse but worn from the years of absence. “You should try and get some sleep, son. You look tired and the sun will be up soon enough.”

Virgil inhaled deeply, tasting the distant rain and the linger hint of jasmine on his tongue. He nodded as he pushed away from the railing, rolling his shoulders to loosen up some of the knots that lingered there. “I should.” He agreed but paused before heading inside once more. “Thanks, Dad. Enjoy the storm."

Jeff tipped his glass slightly in salute. "I always did love a good show."

Virgil paused a moment, not sure how to take that but quickly decided he was way too tired to figure it out. Shaking his head, he rolled his eyes with a soft chuckle and stepped back into the house.

o0o

FIN

[kureis-writing-hell]

Holiday

I went to holiday myself and the trip inspired me to write something small, cute and soft. It's in the future, once everything is fine and nice and Kai have his prosthetics. They're living together with Nao too!

Chisaki and Nao get send to a holiday, but Nao discovers Kai had never been on a plane before.

If Nao said they were surprised when Rei told them they're going on a vacation it would be a huge underestimation. Nao, on his end, was angry. She came out with it out of nowhere, in the middle of a busy month, while he was on a case. Kai, let's say, was not excited. To not say he was grossed out, annoyed and angry about the whole thing.

"I don't want to go anywhere, I like where I am right now, why would I want to leave?" He almost growled after hearing about it, then followed with a quieter, a bit less angry but still grossed out: "why would I ever want to sit hours, trapped in a can full of sick people?"

But, you know Rei. If she said something there was no going back.

Nao lived with Kai for a while now. It wasn't the perfect time, with only milk and honey, obviously, but it was good anyway. After this time Nao was sure nothing would ever surprise him about Kai. He was wrong.

They entered the airport just fine. They checked in, had a coffee and decided to wait close to their gate. That was when Kai did it for the first time. He skipped a step, almost tripping on his own feet, huffed something and acted as if he saw a stain on his perfectly white shoes. Nao saw that, few times checked if his shoes were indeed dirty and couldn't notice anything wrong with them. But he decided to not mention it then. Kai still had moments when his ocd and mysophobia acted really strong but he learned to turn them into something non harmful. To Nao’s knowledge he could as well see a stain on his shoe.

When he did it the second time Nao got suspicious.

Their gate was open and they were about to go through it, to enter the airplane. Kai had a passport in one of his hands and a ticket in second and he kind of looked like a child about to fly for the first time. It was cute, Nao couldn't stop observing him, till his hand, his prosthetic to be more specific, started squeezing the passport hard enough to scrunch it. Nao quickly called him, worried he would destroy his document, but Kai didn't react. Nao called him again.

"Kai. Kai loosen your hands. Are you okay?"

Chisaki looked at him, looked at his hands and immediately loosened it, letting go the passport and the ticket. He swore, gaining attention of the people standing in the line around them and quickly picked up his stuff.

He looked at Nao and then away, in that way he did when he was guilty of something. Nao smiled at him.

"Are you okay?" he repeated the question.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You look nervous."

"I said I'm fine."

They showed their passports and tickets to the girl standing by the gate. She looked worried about Kai’s for a moment but obviously met with worse before.

"Have a nice flight!" she chirped and Nao finally understood.

He could barely see it because of Kai’s mask but he noticed a tint of grimace. Kai still bowed politely and went down the tunnel. For a moment Nao quietly followed him.

"Are you scared of the plane?"

Again, Kai almost tripped and now it was more obvious. He immediately glared at Nao, readjusting his gloves in what both of them knew was a nervous tic.

"Oh God you are."

"Shut-"

"Do you want me to hold your hand?" Nao presented his also gloved hand to Kai.

"Stop teasing me."

"Sorry, sorry. Teasing you is just too fun." Nao laughed but took his hand away. "Why didn't you say so earlier? We'd get you something to calm your nerves."

"I don't need it," grumbled Kai, always so proud. But, against his words, he slowed down to a stop once he saw the entrance of the plane. The pilot, welcoming the attendees on board, looked at them curiously and some people passed them.

"You'll be fine." Nao smiled at Kai again but this time he smiled softer. "It's just like a train."

"If trains were moving thousands of kilometers over the ground."

"Kai." Nao got more serious. He grabbed one of Kai’s prosthetics and lifted it, so that the other man could notice it. "I'm here, yeah? We'll be okay. And anyway we need to enter, I think we may be looking weird."

Reluctantly, Kai moved and without a word went into the plane. He greeted the pilot and the stewardesses, and went straight for their seats. Nao wasn't sure because he was behind the other man but it seemed like Kai didn't even look up at other people. And he kept fixing his mask this time. When they arrived Kai paused, looked back at Nao and without a word started struggling between the seats.

"We can switch, you know?"

"I'll be fine right?" grumbled Kai, sitting by the window. He put his bag on his lap and then, following Nao’s example, slid it under the seat beside him.

"Are you sure? I didn't mean for you to push yourself."

"Yeah."

They waited a bit more before the crew started preparing the plane to take out. Kai observed with obvious focus how the stewardess explained everything. He even went to check under his seat if the safety jacket was really there but Nao stopped him. When the plane started moving to the runway Kai jumped slightly, readjusting his seatbelt over and over again. Nao wondered if he even could breath so far.

"Is that really all? There has to be a different one, mine must be broken-" Kai kept complaining till Nao put a hand on his shoulder.

"Calm down, it's not. Deep breaths."

The engine went on and Kai grabbed the arm rests hard. The plane started speeding up.

"Niko."

"I'm here." Nao took his hand away from Kai’s shoulder and put it over his knee, in a more comfortable way. "Lean back and close your eyes."

He listened, surprisingly fast for him. He also grabbed Nao’s hand, which Nao took in with a bit of worry, but Kai didn't squeeze hard. He did once, when the airplane jumped up and into the air, but then relaxed his hand.

Kai sat like that, with his eyes closed, all the way till the crew turned off the seatbelt icon and Nao took his hand away. Kai opened one eye, saw how Nao took his seatbelt off and looked at him incredulously.

"What are you doing?"

"We'll be flying for hours, I want to be comfortable."

"But-"

"It's fine. Want a drink?"

Nao took out a small bottle of cola out of his backpack and presented it to Kai. Chisaki looked at him angrily, huffed and took it. He unscrewed it, took down his mask, took a sip and immediately coughed.

"What the fuck?" He readjusted his mask, looking suspiciously at the bottle. "Why's there vodka in it?"

"It's going to be a long flight," shrugged Nao and drank from another bottle.

"Is that why it took you so long in the toilet?"

"Yeah."

Kai rolled his eyes and looked at the bottle in his hands. His eyes slid to the window and the overview of the Tokio behind it and he quickly focused back on the bottle.

"It's a long flight," he repeated after Nao and began drinking.

.

"Toilets here are horrible," huffed Kai, pushing himself back to his seat. Nao laughed at him.

"Not really hygienic?"

"Don't even let me start on that, people are disgusting."

Kai flopped in his place and groaned. Nao chuckled again, sitting down slower. He noticed how Kai didn't even try to fasten his seatbelt, just relaxed on the chair. A rare sight, especially somewhere that wasn't their place.

"So what is it then?"

"The way the water flush." For a moment Kai looked uncomfortable. He drank from his bottle, nearly empty, before continuing. "It's loud."

"Did you get spooked?"

"Obviously, it surprised me and I thought something was wrong!"

Kai looked so offended Nao could hold back another laugh. He patted the other man on the head, making Kai sigh.

"I like when you're drunk, you get so open," he laughed.

Truth to be told, Kai wasn't a lightweight. If Nao had to compare him he'd say Kai was what was considered a regular weight in Japan. He could hold his drink but it was never enough to outdrink Nao.

Nao didn't plan to get him drunk like that before, but seeing how nervous he was about the flight he decided to let him have his drink. Sooner than later he would fall asleep anyway and hopefully wake up once they were about to land. For now, though, he was going to enjoy his boyfriend being loud and drunk.

.

"Kai, wake up, we're going to be landing soon."

Nao traced Kai’s hairline with his finger, smiling to himself. He was glad the rest of the flight went fine. Maybe besides a small portion of turbulence that made him freak out and hold onto Nao for dear life. Yeah, besides that Kai seemed okay and even relaxed sometimes.

Chisaki lifted one of his eyelids, hummed and brushed his eye.

"How are you feeling?"

"I want bed," he grumbled back.

"Yeah, me too," sighed Nao. He leaned over Kai and lifted the window cover. "Wow."

Encouraged by Nao’s surprise, Kai dared to look through the window too. It was dark already, impossible to tell where the ground and where the sky was anymore. And, in that darkness, right under their plane, lights were visible. Not the lights of a big city, Kai wasn't even sure if it was ground already, not the sea. They looked like stars, they even blinked slightly. It was a beautiful sight and Kai found it captivating. But, just for a moment, he turned his attention to Nao.

Nao was looking at him with that dreamy expression Kai knew. He blushed, turned his head away and realized there's not much space to cover himself. It made him blush more before he looked back at Nao, nervously readjusting his mask.

"Beautiful," sighed Nao. Kai, not knowing what to do, again looked at the window.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Ah, the view?" Nao turned his attention toward the window as well. Kai felt the sentence, felt the way Nao seemed to notice the view only now in his chest. He pushed the feeling down, he didn't want to blush more. "I don't know. Maybe ships?"

"So many?"

"Why not?"

He was looking at Kai again. The airplane was dark, the lights were turned off by the crew for the landing. Nao was very close, leaning to the window but his face was turned toward Kai and it made him look like leaning over the younger man.

"Don't know…"

Nao slid Kai’s mask down to his chin, making the man shiver, just slightly. He moved closer to Kai, one of his arms on the armrest between them, the second on Kai’s leg. Chisaki watched them, looked at Nao and finally closed his eyes.

The kiss was surprisingly soft, considering it was Nao kissing. Kai would never admit to liking it, though.

"Truly beautiful," hummed Nao, moving his hand from Kai’s leg to his hair and playing with it a little. Chisaki knew he wanted to touch it with his bare hands but that wasn't happening now.

"Stop it." Kai readjusted his mask and made sure his seat belt was fastened well over his hips.

"I'm just stating the reality." Nao did the same before looking at Kai again.

"Of course you do." Kai turned his head toward the view behind the window and jumped when Nao put his head on his shoulder. "What?"

"We're gonna land soon. I don't want you to get scared again."

Kai rolled his eyes but, cautiously, put his cheek against Nao’s head. The plane jumped, just slightly and he also grabbed Nao’s hand. Nao didn't comment on that, only snuggling more comfortably under Kai’s chin.