#sigh. anyways. in a way i guess i can properly work on these fics if inspo ever strikes me and when halloween comes back again +

[gothsuguru]

since i’m sick idk if i can do the halloween/soft autumnal/kinktober thing and it’s a shame bc i literally keep thinking of ideas… i’ll just keep a lot of these as wips and try to write them eventually anyways 😭

[bunny-jpeg]

ugly guys

max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, teammates au, driver!reader, doggy style, (non-con) filming/recording, jealousy, (semi)dark fic, mad!max, long fic,

a/n: happy, happy, happy birthday to yooooou!!

max could usually keep his expressions to himself. he knew how to play a good poker face for the media, but when he saw your ugly boyfriend on the track, he could barely keep it to himself.

you were the first female formula one driver in decades and you picked the ugliest guy to date. not that max was the image of a greek god, but you could do better. it didn't help that when he went to shake max's hand, his palms were painfully sweaty and the guy looked like he was going to have a panic attack when he saw max.

"to each their own." max tried to say to himself. as if he hadn't been harbouring feelings for you for what felt like a lifetime.

so imagine max's complete shock when he found out this ugly guy fumbled you so badly that you ended up in max's hotel room the next night with tears in your eyes.

max handed you another tissue as he sat on the other end of the couch. he then rested against the arm of the couch and asked, "so what exactly happened? all i heard was that you two weren't together anymore and you didn't want to be alone."

you sniffed, "i didn't know who else to call. all my friends are back home or in monaco." you wiped your eyes, earlier you took all your make-up off by evidence of the wipes all over the bathroom counter.

max shrugged, "well, glad i could help." in all fairness, he was glad that your boyfriend (not ex-boyfriend) was out of the picture. hated the guy and not because he looked like the personification of a dumpster. he was getting in max's way.

you leaned against the couch and pouted at him, your arms crossed. you ordered pizza for the both of you, not caring about the diet you were both on. you wanted something greasy and filling and a salad wasn't going to cut that. you explained a little calmer, "he... he called me annoying, he said that when we talked i changed the subject too many times. he said the 'vibes' were off." you gave air quotations, "i tried to forgive him last month when my friend found him on tinder." you sighed, "but... i guess i wasn't good enough. feels like i'm never good enough."

max replied, "i think it's because you give these guys a false sense of confidence. you give these greasy losers an ego boost because they gets to be with you and they go off and think that they're all that. what did this guy do for a living anyway."

"he worked at the gift shop at the circuits of america..." you looked away.

he knew you refused to go on apps like raya, even if it would be easier for you. max thought you liked scrapping the bottom of the barrel and expecting gold.

he pinched the bridge of his nose, "you were flying out and fucking a guy who worked at a gift shop!" he sighed, "i know you want a real, nice guy. but, you're inflating their egos!"

you looked down, "he seemed nice at first."

max couldn't be mad at you. he really couldn't. it wasn't your fault. these guys always put on a show for you, and then when you got too close, the trap came down and you always limped back to max with tears in your eyes. he reached over and sighed as he wiped your tears with his thumbs, "you need standards."

you slumped your shoulders, "i have standards."

"what are they?"

you made a face, "nice. considerate."

"you know you can train a dog to be nice. it's not a very high bar. you are the third ranked driver in the world and all you want is nice. considerate." without thinking he added, "maybe i should date you and show you how to be properly treated."

you stilled for a moment, your eyes wide at max. you said, "don't say things you don't mean." from your expression he could tell you were getting heated in the face.

oh... oh.

he let go of you to move the pizza box out of the way, he was soon crowded in your space with your back against the arm of the couch. "does someone like me?" he watched you swallowed. you had been max's teammate for two years now, after perez retired.

"i never said that." you looked away, but max took you by the face to look at him. something in his blue eyes should've alarmed you, but instead you melted a little into his touch.

"you didn't need to say anything. i could see it in your face." he smiled, "did you date all those greasy-haired, directionless losers to make me jealous?" if he were a worse man, that would've been an ego boost.

"i did like them."

"but you liked me more."

there was a beat of silence between you two before you sighed. you admitted, "yes... i tried to date guys who weren't you, so i'd forget about my... feelings for you." you swallowed.

max found it endearing. if he had known sooner, he would've easily swept you off your feet and made sure no other man got in his way. so without much of a second thought, he kissed you. it was passionate and the result of over two years of wanting you. needing you. the kisses continued until the pizza was long forgotten and you were on max's hotel bed.

you bounced a little when he pushed you onto it. some of your belongings were in his room as you were going to stay the night. his hands under your shirt.

"i've thought about this often." he said, "i wonder if any of those guys ever made you feel good. or were you wishing it was me." he whispered in your ear, "did you think about me when they failed to make you cum?"

you swallowed, "the last guy..." you admitted, "his cock was really small and he didn't know where the clit was." and blushed more when max looked at you in shock.

he laughed, "and he's going on tinder and acting like a prick! cheating on you and calling you annoying! he broke things off with you and you were suffering with piss-poor sex. c'mon. you need standards." he pushed your shirt off of you, "you need me."

call max verstappen a possessive man. he'd chalk it up to his childhood and the constant feeling of inadequacy. being knocked around a few times in the head probably scarred him. but, he was happy that he could finally lay claim on you.

he got you undressed and did the same to himself. you both had seen each other naked a few times. it was the price of being in close proximity for most of the year. walking into driver's rooms without knocking, that time you asked him if this bra looked alright, the other time you had to hold his hand while he got that small tattoo on his hip (that not even the other drivers knew about). you two knew each other more intimately than most, if not everyone.

so it only made sense that max felt you up while you laid under him. with promises on his tongue as he kissed your collarbones, "i'm gonna make you feel good. i promise." he his cock was sticky and heavy. he needed you asap.

you got on your hands and knees with your hips arched to the perfect angle for him. in the bright lights of the bedroom, he could see your wetness cling to your pussy lips. this was what your ex-boyfriend left? this! max assumed the man needed his head checked, but now he was certain he needed to be locked up somewhere.

only an idiot would mess up their chances with you.

he rubbed his hard cock against your click cunt. he said, "might be a bit of a stretch. i'm guessing i'm about double the size of him."

"he was three inches." you replied, "i measured after he lied to me and said he was five." you felt embarrassed, "i can't believe i gave this guy a chance! more than one chance!"

max tried not to laugh, he didn't want you thinking he was insulting you. but max was close to seven inches, well beyond double what your ex-boyfriend was packing. and maybe it was rude of him to think so, but it made his confidence a little higher.

when he sank his cock into you, you buried your face into the pillows and arched your back. your nails dug into the fabric. the whole floor didn't need to know you two were fucking.

not that max cared, let them hear. let them know.

the idea only came to him when he started to thrust up against you. he watched your ass shake with every hard thrust of his hips. he soon had you bouncing on his length. his size buried in your just right, at least he knew where your clit was. and the thought of it against his tongue later left him more excited.

there was so much for him to try on you. missionary would be rarely on the table. max wanted to devour you like a fine meal. but you'd always get your fair share of orgasms. can't have his girl go without.

however the thought crossed his mind and as he thrusted into you. he grabbed his phone and started to record. he changed his pace a little, harder thrusts that were a little slower. really get his cock comfortable inside of you.

he pressed against areas that had you moaning louder. all picked up on the camera. he asked, "do you like that, baby? do you like how it all feels?"

you whimpered. you weren't aware he was filming, instead just doing dirty talk to make you pant and whine. you replied, "it feels good, max. ah!"

max smiled, as the camera caught the sight of his cock going in and out of you. his cock sticky with your wetness. even a ring of milky white around the base from how good he made you feel. he wanted to speak directly to your asshole of an ex-boyfriend. he wanted to know that he'd always be less than. less than max verstappen.

"better than with anyone else." he couldn't give away that he was filming you. even with the camera directed at your pussy taking all of him so nicely.

you nodded.

"use your words, i want to hear you." he said with a bit of cockiness in his tone, "i want to know how to make you feel." c'mon, tell your dickhead of an ex how good your own teammate made you feel. tell max everything.

"shit, max. please. no one has ever fucked me like this before." you held onto the pillow a little tighter. the rush was to your head, you couldn't believe it. it was even a little better than when you pleasured yourself.

"a girl like you deserves a good fuck. how big was he again?" now max was just taunting the man. maybe it was a step beyond, but the greasy-haired prick should've known better than to get in max's way.

"three."

"yeah, yeah. didn't know how to use it either. but that's alright, schat. i'll make sure to give you all the orgasms he failed to give you. right?"

you nodded, "right, max, right." you arched your back a little more. the pleasure was flooding your brain. almost overwhelming as he fucked you with such force that it moved the bed up against the wall. the expensive headboard knocked against the wall a little harder.

no more worrying about idiot men for you, not while max was still upright and breathing. you were his. even if max had to raise your standards himself in any capacity. he would make you see that the two of you were a better fit. and to not give these low-lifes any chances. you were above them.

far too beautiful, far too funny, far too charming. if they couldn't handle a woman who liked to ramble then they were weak. max had already been listening to your rambling and ranting for years. the only difference was now he could keep you quiet with about seven inches in your mouth.

"who's going to make you cum?"

"you are!" you said a little louder. your voice a little tighter.

"who?"

"you are!" you yelped as your back arched further and eventually you came around max's cock. the noises you made were angel choirs in max's perverted mind. there, that should get the message across to this other dickhead.

he ended the video and tossed the phone on the bed before he gripped you by the middle and pressed his chest against your back. he fucked you with a heavy pace. it made you see stars and feel the throb of need in your core.

already overstimulated, your body craved for more. now you certainty weren't going to find another man. with a few ore heavy thrusts, you came once more and almost punched the pillow from the intensity. it was soon followed by max who pushed himself all the way inside of you and finished.

"shit." he croaked.

you laid under him as he slowed to a stop and dropped your hips when he pulled out. you laid there, finding comfort in the pillow under your head as you felt on cloud nine.

while max would've loved to eat you out right after. he could tell that you had already had enough for tonight. he laid down next to you and you rolled to your side to face him. your expression was blissed out and sleepy.

so, like any good boyfriend. he held you. and soon you drifted off to sleep. the rush of chemicals to your brain made you sleepy. and soon you were curled up under the covers with max.

"good girl." he said softly as you laid on his chest in a post-orgasm bliss. it wasn't until you were fully asleep that max got to work.

as you laid asleep beside him, he had your phone in his hand. he knew your pass code because it was the same as his. his number (33) and your number. it was a cute thing you wanted to do as teammates. so it wasn't easy to send the video and photos of him fucking you to your ex-boyfriend.

you shifted a little in your sleep from the feeling of the bright light of a phone nearby. you made a noise and almost woke up.

"shh, shh." he said as he kissed the top of your head, "just checking emails, go back to sleep." he was quick to send the video from his phone to your phone then to your ex-boyfriend. you simply snuggled closer and relaxed more. unaware.

max attached a message to the video, the one of him completely taking your pussy, "thought you were dumb, now i think you're completely stupid. don't text or call this number. congratulations of fumbling someone way out of your league. but don't worry, she's better off with me now.- mv." then blocked the number before he put the phone down.

it was his loss honestly, not that max cared. the guy could live forever or die tomorrow. forever irrelevant because now max had you. and as you snuggled up closer to him, a sleepy smile across your face.

you could've gone through a hundred guys, but that didn't matter. because you'd always find your way back to max. <3

[invvuu]

LIPS TO EYES AND VICE VERSA — SIM JAEYUN

SUMMARY : sim jake sucks at being your tutor but he makes up for it by being your boyfriend. PAIRING : boyfriend!jake x gn!reader GENRE : established relationship, fluff / 1.6k words WARNINGS : jake is flirty, reader loses their mind because of jake ( there is a theme here if you couldn’t tell ) not proofread

﹙ 📑 ﹚ AUTHOR’S NOTE — why is writing author notes harder than the actual fics themselves,,, but anyways i guess i can just mention that i started writing this last night and then finished it while i was in online class as some sort of tmi (no cus why did i edit this draft five times already just to change the author’s note)

“MY EYES ARE UP HERE,” you say blankly — or rather, in an attempt to appear blankly as you look at Jake, your boyfriend and current tutor for the time being.

He had his chin sitting on top of his palm, fingers resting and occasionally tapping against the skin of his cheek. Jake had a couple rings adorning his fingers, all in silver except for the matching ring he bought for the both of you as a gift to ensure his commitment.

His hair was slicked back partly, slightly giving way for you to see his forehead. It also gave you a much clearer view of his eyes, hiding behind the clear lenses of the glasses he usually wears when reading or studying.

His eyes were a common sight considering the fact that he was your boyfriend and you see him almost everyday, however the only reason why you were bothered by them was because they didn’t focus on your eyes, but rather on your lips as you talked.

This was one of his flirty antics at work, the kind of antics you’ve gotten used to a long time ago but can’t help but still be affected by it.

“I know,” Jake responds back, attitude completely the same as it was in the beginning of your rant. Shortly after you notice the corners of his lips curving upwards into smirk, appearing to showcase that he knew exactly what he was doing.

And you were not surprised.

A sigh escapes your lips, “Jake, you’re supposed to be helping me with the lesson.” You spew out while raising an eyebrow at him, crossing both arms together in a direct manner. “Are you going to help me study or are you just going to keep messing around?”

He chuckles amusingly, grin not faltering.

“Messing around? I’m just admiring you, babe. You do know that you’re beautiful, right?”

Jake’s gaze starts to slowly trail from your lips towards your eyes, seeing the expression displayed on your facial features. “Besides, you were going off topic by ranting about Professor Kim and the Math exam.” He tilts his head, still appearing to be flirting with you.

“Well — yeah, and you’re supposed to be helping me pass the exam right now because I don’t want to fail,” you insist, attempting to get Jake back on track in acting as your tutor.

You then see him switch his focus onto the semi messy written notes, opened and sprawled across the table in front of you. “Huh,” he lets out, “You seem alright doing it by yourself though.”

Crap, he was getting to you. The way he spoke to you in a soft yet attractive tone rendered you flustered, and the way he looked like currently was definitely not helping your mental state at all.

With further inspection of his overall appearance, you can see he had his sleeves rolled up until it reached right below his elbow. This simple insight made you admire how evident his veins were on his hand, clearly seen due to his dress shirt’s sleeves not covering them.

He was, without a doubt, making you short circuit. And you absolutely hated that he was doing nothing but only the bare minimum.

“I still need your help either way.” Your tongue moves on its own immediately, mind trying to keep your thoughts at bay about him. You lay your hand on top of the written notes, sliding them towards Jake so he could read them properly.

“Oh, I was supposed to be your tutor or something?” He asks nonchalantly, brows raising up as he fixes his posture on his seat.

In response you roll your eyes and scoff, expression becoming a bit more irritated than it was in the beginning.

“So you just agreed to do this without even listening to me properly when I asked you earlier?” You inquire back, voice surprisingly sounding harsher as you continue looking at him.

Another set of chuckles blew out of Jake’s mouth. “No need to be so angry,” He then leans forward again, tilting his head another time, “I really am sorry though, but I was only doing my job as your boyfriend.”

His words sent shivers down your spine one after the other. It was annoying really, how much his voice had this much of an impact on you. His sultry and deep tone that he always used when speaking to you added another factor of why you were attracted to him in the first place.

From how he apologized, you could easily surmise that he wasn’t truly sorry. But the part where he mentioned that he was just being your boyfriend immediately gave you all of the reasons to forgive him.

You sigh, giving the attempt in ignoring your heart from fluttering another chance. Sim Jaeyun, Sim Jake, Jaeyun, Jake, Jakey — or whatever name he goes by, he truly knew his way to get to you no matter the occasion or if he had changed his persona.

At this point you were already losing your calm demeanor the more you interacted with Jake. Honestly, if it was him who drew the other half of your heart, you’d keep it against your chest without a single question.

He made you want to do impulsive actions, he made you want to embarrass yourself, and he made you want to become a fool. These thoughts were things that you wouldn’t dare to say out loud, mainly because you knew how stupid you would look like in doing so. You couldn’t help but wonder pitifully in your mind.

What was this man doing to you? You’re both dating now, so why does it feel like you were back to hopelessly crushing on him like before?

After all of these questions, you were sure that your mind was going to go haywire if he ever decided to graze his hand against yours.

“Babe,” Jake calls out, catching your attention as he waves a hand in front of your face, ���Am I really that much of an eye candy to you?” He asks teasingly, eyes still looking into yours as he watches you flinch slightly at the sudden movement.

You then feel a tap on the tip of your nose, seeing a soft smile adorning your boyfriend’s features, “You’re making it harder for me to help you study if you keep acting this cute.”

As your heartbeat intensifies from his words, you quickly realize what had happened: you were staring at Jake and you weren’t aware of it.

In this point of the current situation, there was no mistake that you were an actual fool in disguise as a human. “Oh — uh, what were you saying?” You ask in a rather flustered manner as you place a hand at the nape of your neck, rubbing it gently the moment it touches it.

Jake grabs the pen from the table’s surface into his hand and clicks it a few times before answering, “I was admiring the view and it seems like you enjoyed yours too.” He cheekily prompts while giving out a small wink towards your direction.

Embarrassment quickly shoots through your mind at full speed, making you receive the desire to hide yourself from him further. “I was looking behind you,” you mutter, trying to create a valid excuse as your fingers begin fiddling with the edges of the papers sprawled across the table.

“You were looking at books about Shakespearean plays?” He stifles, turning his body to glance at the bookshelf to confirm his question. “Last time you told me that Shakespeare sucked, didn’t know you had a change of heart,” Jake shrugs sarcastically, the corners of his lips tugging themselves into a small smirk.

You frown slightly, letting go of the papers and allowing your hand to rest on the table. “I didn’t say he sucked, I said that reading and analyzing his works sucked,” you explain exasperatedly.

Jake can’t help but supply laughter at your words — the way you quickly tried to cover up what you were actually doing made him find you cuter than usual. With the intent of making the situation seem more entertaining, he points the pen at your face, “Then what about the books made you stop talking?”

“I just remembered about my assignment for History.”

“Really? History?”

You nod eagerly — a bit too eagerly for the matter. You tried your best to remedy the situation at hand but the seeping thought of Jake already knowing the truth was pretty much turning into reality.

“Yeah, I have to — um, read a chapter from Midsummer’s Night Dream and analyze it.”

“But I thought you were supposed to be reading Macbeth?”

The amount of counter statements your boyfriend kept saying were only making you more embarrassed. Embarrassed because at this point, you were sure that he knew exactly what you were doing a few moments ago.

“Just tell me the truth,” Jake prompts, “You were looking at me, it was very obvious.”

This was beyond what you were expecting for this tutoring session — actually, was this even a tutoring session in the first place? It was more like a stupid moment of you going feral over a man that you have been dating for almost a year now.

Sim Jaeyun was definitely a bad choice to have as your tutor.

“I have a challenge for you.” He puts his hands together on the table, as well as leaning back away from you to straighten his posture, “I’ll kiss you every time I catch you gawking at me.”

Hearing his idea makes you click your tongue subconsciously, because you knew that it would’ve make your life so much easier if this entire session didn’t happen, nor if you asked Jake to be your tutor in the first place.

© INVVUU 2024

[futuremrsreid]

Watching (S.R)

Summary: Spencer sleeps over at y/n's place and hears something he isn't supposed to.

Content Warnings: 18+, SMUT, downright filthy smut, voyeurism, dubious consent, humiliation, basically reader is wanking and spencer watches without her knowing

Authors Note: I am obsessed with writing morally wrong fics, but I guess this isn't for everyone so please read the CW before you read!!!

“Perverted”, “Scandalous”, “Creepy”- Those were the words that I would have used to describe myself at this moment.

The night had started innocently enough. Y/n and I were having one of our monthly movie nights. We ordered pizza, watched a new release that we had been waiting for for months, and had some wine. Though, as it usually does with y/n, some wine turned into 2 bottles of the dark liquid. I wouldn’t have called myself drunk, but she insisted that I should not drive in that state. It wasn’t the first time I had slept over at her apartment, but this time, I wished that I had just gotten into my fucking car.

While I got ready for bed in the bathroom, y/n was preparing the couch for me since I always refused to take the bed. She still put up a fight every time, as if she didn’t do the same when she slept over at my place, and then pettishly prepared the couch. It was cute, just like every single thing about her was.

I sighed as I spit the toothpaste in the sink, thinking about how much it sucks to be in love with your best friend. Friends to Lovers…yeah, I wish. They make it look so easy on screen, but in reality, it just sucks. I contemplated telling her countless times, but the risk of losing her is too much. Even if she felt the same, relationships can end, people can fall out of love, and then you are left with nothing. I’d rather stick to yearning for the rest of my life.

When I left the bathroom, she was already waiting for me and we exchanged goodnights as we passed each other. Sleeping on the couch really didn’t sound so bad when the alternative was potentially losing her.

That didn’t mean that I didn’t lie awake thinking about what it would be like to sleep in the same bed as her and wake up next to her though. Most times I barely got any sleep, like tonight.

I tried falling asleep for 30 minutes before I gave up and turned the TV back on. I was barely able to hear the show that was running, but I hoped that concentrating on it would make me tired. It would have worked, but just as I was about to drift off to sleep, there was the faintest sound coming from y/n’s bedroom. It was so quiet that I wondered if I had just imagined it, but as I looked at the door, I saw that she didn’t close it properly, presumably by accident.

I closed my eyes again because people make noises in their sleep all the time, especially her, but a few seconds later, there was another noise. It sounded like a whimper, and this time I was sure that I had actually heard it. I contemplated what to do. Y/n had nightmares all the time, as should be expected in our line of work, but sometimes it was worse waking her up than just letting her sleep through it. Though thinking about the time when she scratched herself so hard that she woke up with blood under her fingernails, I got up anyway.

That was the first mistake I made that night.

I swear my thoughts were innocent when I went to push open the door, I just wanted to prevent her from hurting herself, so I was absolutely not prepared for the sight in front of me when the door fell open enough for me to look inside.

Y/n was lying on top of the bed, one hand in her panties and the other clutching the sheets. I froze. I know I should have just quietly closed the door and gone back to bed, but I didn’t.

That was the second mistake I made that night.

I kept my eyes on her, carefully memorizing everything I saw before me, storing it away in my endless memory. The way she arched her back while drawing slow circles over her clit, the way her shirt rose up because of that, and how the exposed skin of her legs and stomach looked in the faint moonlight that was streaming through her window.

The thing that got to me most though, was the look on her face. Her mouth was slightly agape, brows furrowed and her eyes clenched shut. It was absolutely mesmerizing, she was absolutely mesmerizing, and every detail of it was burned into my brain.

I knew how wrong it was, watching her like this in such a vulnerable moment, but I couldn’t look away. I was convinced the gods themselves were punishing me by putting such a sight in front of me and expecting me to walk away from it. It was utterly fucked up.

Another whimper left her, louder this time and she bit her lip, trying to keep herself quiet. God, she was trying not to wake me up but here I was, standing at her door and watching her.

Her underwear was pink, and even though it was almost dark in her room, I could still see the wet spot on it. I felt like I didn’t have any control over my body as my hand made its way to the bulge that was growing in my pajama pants, the pants she got me for my birthday. I remembered the look on her face as I unwrapped the fish print fabric, eyes full of excitement and the innocence that was always on her face. Well, most of the time anyway, because right now, there was no innocence in sight.

I was a sick man.

Her hand picked up the pace and I could hear the wet sounds it made. She sighed and threw her head back the same moment that my own hand found its way into my pants, thumb brushing over the precum-covered tip of my cock. I swallowed the groan that threatened to leave my throat when her other hand wandered to her breast, squeezing it, while I was stroking myself as fast as I could without making any sound.

It was then that I noticed the thing that would forever exile me from heaven and condemn me to a life in hell because while she lay there pleasuring herself, she was wearing my shirt, the shirt I had worn yesterday night in the cheap hotel room we were sharing. I had searched the whole room for it this morning, she helped me look.

I had to bite my lip to prevent a moan from escaping. Not only did she steal my shirt, but she also lied to me and was now wearing it while she fucked herself. The thought of my sweet and innocent best friend doing such a filthy thing almost pushed me over the edge, but like the sick masochistic pervert that I was, I gripped the base of my cock to keep me from cumming so soon. I wanted to watch her fall apart first, knowing if my orgasm finished washing over me first I would feel so guilty and sick I’d probably run to the bathroom to throw up and miss the best part.

The faster her hand moved and the closer she got, the more her sounds increased in volume. It’s fascinating how being aroused shifts your perception of the world around you because I would bet that she didn’t realize how loud she was getting. It didn’t matter anyways because the person she tried to keep quiet for was standing in the dark watching her.

When a whine escaped her, and her thighs started trembling, I knew she was close, so I started to increase my pace. I wanted to come with her, watch her fall apart and use it to reach my own climax.

My hand moved frantically around my cock and when her face scrunched up in pleasure and her thighs closed around her hand, I imagined how they would feel clenching around me. It was that thought that finally pushed me over the edge and made me spill my cum into my underwear. I bit down on my tongue hard and continued stroking myself while coming down, the same way she did.

When her hand stilled and she huffed out a breath, I knew I had to move fast. As quietly as I could I closed the door the same way it was before I had entered earlier and rushed to the bathroom. I cleaned myself up as best as I could and decided that I preferred to sleep in cum covered underwear instead of no underwear at all.

I caught my breath and tried not to think about what I had just done, but when I opened the door to go back to bed, y/n stood in front of me.

“Hi”, she almost squeaked when she saw me. Looking at her face, warm and splotchy from her orgasm, I felt myself getting hard again. I cleared my throat.

“Hi yourself”, I replied, acting like the last 10 minutes didn’t actually happen.

“You’re still awake”, she said and I saw realization wash over her face. To go to the bathroom, you had to walk by her room, and she must have noticed that her door wasn’t closed when she got up. She stood in front of me frozen and I hate to admit how much the sight turned me on. She thought I heard her. God if she knew.

I tried to be a good person, to be a gentleman, and let it go. Let her go to the bathroom to clean herself up and never talk about it again, but I just couldn’t.

“Yeah, I, uh, I couldn’t sleep”, I started and tilted my head to fake a concerned look,” By the way, are you okay? I heard some noise coming from your room. Did you have a nightmare again?” I was a sick perverted man, but the horror that washed over her face at my words almost made me take her right there against the wall.

“Uh yes. Yes, I did, but I’m fine! I’m awake, the nightmare is over. I really need to pee though so… goodnight Spence. Sleep well.” And with that, she started to move around me. I could have just let her go but it was too easy, the opportunity too great not to take it.

“Hey, is that my shirt? I was looking for it all morning.” She almost tripped when the words left my mouth.

“Oh, this was the shirt you lost? I thought it was mine, my bad. You’ll uh, get it back washed and folded just the way you like it. Goodnight!”, y/n rushed out and quickly closed the bathroom door and locked herself inside it.

It was quiet for a moment and then I could hear the faintest “fuck” from behind the door.

[sebastianstanisahotmf]

Can't sleep

Bucky Barnes x reader

A/N this is day one of my 100 followers celebration series. If you have sent an ask I am working on it. I'm sorry this one is short and so late but I didn't know I would have so much to do today. Also, all mistakes are my own so if you see any feel free to comment them and comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated.

THIS IS NOT AN 18+ FIC BUT I STILL FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE WITH MINORS READING MY FICS SO PLEASE DNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR

Summary you can't sleep (I wrote this based on my own issues with sleep and I hope it comforts anyone with the same struggles)

DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER APPS/WEBSITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.

Warnings fluff, slight angst (kinda)

You don’t know how long it's been since you first got into bed, but at the moment it feels like forever. You have been tossing and turning, unable to get comfy. You look over to Bucky who is fast asleep. 

He looks so peaceful. 

You huff before getting out of bed in hopes of tiring yourself out. You trudge into the living room where you grab your laptop and the blanket that has been left there from your movie night with Bucky.

You sit on the couch and put the blanket on your lap. Then, you open your laptop and begin to get on with some work that you need to do. 

After a while, you look at the time in the corner of your laptop and sigh. Its 4:01 am which means you’re not going to get to sleep any time soon. 

Then, you are startled when you feel a cold hand on your shoulder. You look up to see Bucky, his eyes barely open and his hair a perfect mess. 

“Why aren’t you in bed doll?” he asks.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you reply.

“You should’ve woken me up. I would have come in here with you so you aren’t alone,” Bucky said, walking around the couch to lift you and put you on his lap.

He wraps his arms around your stomach and pulls you flush against his chest, his chin resting in the crook of your neck.

“I didn’t wake you because you looked so peaceful and I didn’t want to disturb your sleep if you’re not having a nightmare,” you look down at your hands as you pick the skin around your nails. 

“Doll, I've told you a million times now, I don’t care if you wake me up, even if it's for something small, but I especially want you to wake me up if you can’t sleep. You know I can’t sleep properly if you’re not in bed with me anyways,” he kisses your cheek.

“Sorry,” you turn just enough so you can kiss Bucky on the lips.

“No need to be sorry doll, I just don’t like the idea of you being awake alone if I can help it,” Bucky responds and kisses the back of your neck.

You both stay in a comfortable silence until it is broken by the alarm on your phone going off. You reach over and grab your phone to turn the alarm off.

“I guess it's time to start the day,” you say to Bucky, getting up off his lap and going into the kitchen to make s drink for the both of you. 

A few minutes later, you feel two arms make their way around your waist. 

“I love you so much doll,” 

“I love you too baby,”

If you want to join my taglist to know when I post these fics or any others please click on the link.

Also, if you want to see what I reblog, my other acount is @sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs

Taglist: @buckys-wintersoldier, @nicoline1998enilocin-library

[rainbow-nerdss]

WIP Wednesday

A little bit of Buck and Chris from the Bucktommy fic 💙💙💙💙 (Aka: you can pry couch theory from my cold dead hands, actually)

“Why were you asking about me and Tommy, anyway?” He asks. “No reason.” Chris shrugs “Dad just mentioned it, that's all. Tommy's pretty cool.” “He sure is. Even if he's got terrible Star Wars opinions.” “Hey!” Chris protests again.  Buck just shrugs. “I said what I said.” He thinks for a moment, then adds. “I guess I never really talked to you properly about me and Tommy, huh? I'm sorry about that, bud.” “It's okay. Dad explained it. I mean, obviously I know what bisexual is already, but he explained how you didn't always know. How there can be things some people learn about themselves as a kid, and other people learn when they're old.” Buck gets a little choked up by how simply put it is. Sure, he's always known Chris to be intelligent, and he's a proper little teenager now, but the way he says it so plainly, the way Eddie explained it to him, it's… Well, he's pretty sure it's love. “I'm not old,” Buck says, just to be a shit, and also to keep himself from bursting into tears. How'd he get so lucky to have this kid in his life? Chris shrugs. “That's just what dad said! Take it up with him.” “Your dad’s older than I am!” Buck protests, and Chris cackles.  “Okay, so maybe I paraphrased a bit. Can you go away now? I'm trying to concentrate and you don't even have math superpowers to help anymore.” Buck sighs dramatically, but he does get out of Chris' chair. He sits on the couch, which is still perfectly fine, thank you.  Usable, at least.  Okay, so he'll probably need a new one soon, but he's sure the people at the furniture store will recognise his face by now and he just can’t deal with that. He turns the TV on low and flicks around for a while, then starts scrolling on his phone, just waiting for Chris to finish his work. They spend the evening playing video games—no more than two hours, Buck knows better than to incur Eddie's wrath on that, then they cook together, eating at the table like grown ups with good table manners.

tags below the cut:

@dangerpronebuddie @wildlife4life @theotherbuckley @wikiangela @daffi-990

@theotherbuckley @diazsdimples @bidisasterbuckdiaz @exhuastedpigeon @aspecbuddie @thewolvesof1998 @neverevan @loserdiaz @goforkinard @kwills91 @trenchcoatsandtimetravel @spotsandsocks @devirnis @steadfastsaturnsrings @sunflowerdiaiz @lover-of-mine @liabegins @lovelettertothewise @slowlyfoggydestiny @buddieboos @shitouttabuck @pirrusstuff @jesuisici33 @nmcggg @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @your-catfish-friend @eightpackdiaz @gigi-gigi @bisexualbuckleys @loveyouanyway @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @arachanae @dangerpronebuddie

[justwearthegoddamncardigan]

Back on the platonic gladers when Thomas and newt go save minho Reader tags along (10-13), but instead of newt dying reader saves him and gets injured or dies

Hello again! Thank you for requesting, I was hoping someone would want a part 2 to Shields (read here). Hope you enjoy :)

Shields - Part 2

Set during tdc - saving Minho (movieverse)

Gladers x young! fem!reader (platonic)

Notes: this is a continuation of my other fic Shields, highly recommend you read that first. also, this fic jumps around a lot cause I couldn't string it together properly. not my best work, but hope you enjoy anyway :)

Warnings: canon-typical violence (you get injured), YOU DON'T DIE (I did not have the capacity to write that lolll). NOT PROOFREAD

"Yeah, that looks good." Harriet adjusts your grip on the gun slightly.

You've watched your friends shoot guns for months now, and you're pretty familiar with the movements and everything.

"Do I just shoot now?"

She nods. "Watch out for the kickback though, it's gonna recoil."

You hone in your gaze on the target, a piece of paper taped over a dead tree, and pull the trigger.

The bullet slices through the paper, ending up embedded in the tree bark.

Vince nods appreciatively. "Not bad; not bad at all. We could make a real fighter out of you."

You glow with the praise, turning to where your friends are grinning supportively, Frypan holding up a thumbs up.

"Nice shot, Y/n," calls Thomas.

You continue with shooting practice until your hands are sore, and then you break for lunch.

You sit with Thomas, Newt, and Frypan on the floor in an abandoned building, eating spaghetti right out of the can.

"What's the plan for today?" asks Thomas through a mouthful of food.

"We should be getting to the new base by today. It's gonna be a temporary setup, just for a year at the most."

"Then we get Minho?" you ask.

"Yeah," responds Vince. "Then we get Minho."

⭒----⭒

Months later, you plan and enact a rescue mission for Minho, which fails.

You sit on your bed, hopeless, as you lean your head into your hands.

"Thomas, we can't wait another six months," you say.

It's just the two of you, sitting in the empty sleeping room.

"I know," he says quietly. "I'm leaving tonight."

"So you know I'm coming with you?"

"Yeah, I know," his grin glows in the fading light, and you stand to pack your things.

⭒----⭒

Newt and Frypan end up coming on the mission, and you're joined by Brenda and Jorge as you start towards the Last City.

You see Gally again, who'd always looked out for you like a little sister.

"Y/n," he says in shock, the first time you hold up your gun.

"You taught her to shoot?" he whirls around to Thomas, staring accusingly.

"She's old enough to fight, and strong enough to make her own decisions," retorts Thomas.

"Guys," you interrupt exasperatedly. "Let's just find a way in, so we can get Minho."

⭒----⭒

All of that leads you to now.

"Minho!" you shout, ducking around doors looking for him.

"Y/n, over here!" Newt's voice calls from behind you.

You run over and see Thomas and Newt, and Minho.

A sob catches in your throat as you sprint up to him and leap into his arms.

"Hey," he says, giving you a grin. "Long time no see."

"Idiot," you respond, punching him in the arm.

He takes you in fully, eyes sweeping over the combat gear you're dressed in, and the gun and knife strapped to your hip.

You wait for him to berate you for coming, for being too young and too small to fight.

It never comes.

"Guess you're a warrior now, huh?" he says, giving you a small smile.

You grin back, but the moment is interrupted as the WCKD soldiers find you again.

"In here!" yells Thomas, and you all stumble into the little storeroom.

You stand back as Newt and Minho barricade the door.

"Alright, anyone got any ideas," asks Newt.

"Yeah," says Thomas, staring ominously down through the window.

You step up and see a pool of water down below, and let out a sigh. "We're gonna die," you say matter-of-factly.

"Yep," agrees Minho.

They smash a gas canister through the window, and you grab Minho's hand as you step up to the edge.

There's a loud bang as Janson's team crashes through the door. "Jump!" yells Thomas.

You leap away from the building, wind roaring in your ears as the ground gets closer, and you hit the water feet first with a smash.

⭒----⭒

You look on in concern and fear as Thomas helps Newt down inside a burning convenience store, away from the fighting rebels.

"We need to get the cure," says Thomas, gazing at his friend worriedly.

"I'll run ahead," responds Minho. "Gally can cover me."

Thomas nods. "Go."

"No," you interrupt, standing up. "We all know that cure's not gonna work. We need Teresa, and it has to be Thomas' blood."

"We can't drag 'im back there," says Minho, and you remember that he's been tortured by WCKD for months. He looks exhausted.

You shake your head. "I'll go alone. No one will stop me." You gesture to yourself. "Just a kid, right? I'll get the cure from Teresa and meet you where Brenda and Vince are."

A chorus of objections rise against you.

"Are you kidding?"

"No way, Y/n."

"Guys," you say, frustrated. "Newt's not gonna make it if we just send Minho and Gally. And Cranks are strong. When Newt Cranks out, and he will, Thomas and I will be dead first."

"I come with; I'll cover you," says Minho finally.

"What?" exclaims Thomas. "Why're you letting her do this?"

"You're the one who let her come in the first place," challenges Minho.

"No one is 'letting' me do anything," you interject.

"Hey!" calls Gally. "You better just go. We're wasting time here. I'll stay with Thomas; if Newt Cranks out, we can hold him off until you two get back."

Minho grabs Gally's walkie so you can communicate, and the two of you leave.

You run in front of him, setting the pace since you both know he'd be sprinting ahead of you.

You try and almost succeed at sweettalking your way around Ava, until she's shot by Janson.

You don't hesitate; you shoot him in the foot and run with Minho until you find Teresa.

She's bent over a microscope, and spins quickly as you and Minho run in.

"The cure," growls Minho, pointing his gun at her.

"It's almost done," says Teresa calmly, reaching for a syringe to transfer a deep blue liquid into a vial.

Minho turns, and you get an idea. "We need a ride, one of the aircraft things."

Teresa nods, expression staying infuriatingly calm. "You'll need someone to pilot it."

"Whatever," says Minho, "Just get us out of here."

As Teresa flies you across the city in a mini air-car, you grab the walkie talkie. "Thomas, you there?"

There's no response.

"Thomas, say something, please."

It takes a few more tries before the other side crackles to life.

"Y/n." Thomas' voice is scratchy and tense, and you can here his heavy breathing. "Have you guys got the cure?"

"Yeah, have you reached Vince?"

"No, listen. You need to come find us. We're in some sort of station. An open area, sheltered. Newt's Cranked out and Gally and I are struggling pretty bad. Please find us. I think- shit!"

"What? What was that? Thomas, are you okay?"

"Listen Y/n, I gotta go. Come find us!" The sound cuts off and you stand there, clutching the walkie and staring as if it'll help your friend.

"They're in some kind of station," you tell Teresa.

"Station..." she says, frowning slightly in thought.

"They said it's an open area, and it's sheltered."

"I think I might know."

Teresa pilots the air-car down and opens the doors, and you and Minho leap out.

"I can hear them!" exclaims Minho, taking off towards the station.

You sprint after them, not caring what Teresa does, and you freeze at the sight of Newt bringing a knife down on Thomas, before Gally jumps in to throw him off.

"Hold him still," you call as Minho jumps into the fight.

You prepare the cure and hold it carefully, waiting as your friends take down Newt, subduing him easily with 3 on 1.

You find Newt's neck and administer the cure, and your friends relax as he sags immediately.

None of you notice when his eyes fly open, still blown black, and he grabs his knife.

Only Thomas realises, and he does too late. "Y/n watch out!"

Newt, still Cranked out, sees you, the person who just injected him in the neck, and swings the knife at you.

As Newt stabs the knife into your side, all you know is pain.

You can only gasp the knife is yanked out and blood streams from your wound, Gally and Thomas grabbing for Newt as Minho dives towards you.

"Nononono, Y/n. No." Minho yanks his jacket off, pressing it to your side, but the blood snakes past, pooling in his hands.

Your gaze slides away, and you watch as Newt wakes up, the cure finally setting in, and his eyes land on you.

"Did I... No. Y/n!"

Your friends crowd around you, Newt cradling your head as Minho and Thomas try to stop the blood from flowing.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to- Y/n, I'm so sorry." He smooths a hand on your hair, and you can feel his tears dripping onto your cheeks.

You can hear Gally yelling desperately into the walkie talkie, and Minho's repeated mutterings of "nonono, please".

"Stay with us, we're so close Y/n. I'm so sorry," Newt's head stays bowed over you, hands only moving to wipe his own tears off your face.

"It's okay," you manage to say. "W- wasn't you."

Newt shakes his head, and you hear Thomas start to shout as the blood doesn't stop.

"Come on!" he yells. "I'm not losing you too, I'm won't."

You feel your eyelids start to grow heavy.

"No!" Newt jolts your head slightly, tapping your face with his thumb. "Stay with us, okay? Just a little longer, please."

" 'm tired," you whisper.

"I know, just keep holding on."

"Hurts."

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry." He looks up. "There! Vince is here, Y/n. Everyone's here, they're gonna take care of you. Just please, stay awake a little longer. Promise?"

"Okay."

You're unable to keep your promise, cause the blackness closes in, and your mind shuts off.

⭒----⭒

You awaken slowly, scrunching your eyes against the soft light of your room.

As sit up carefully, your hand comes up to brace against your side. You feel a bandage there, and the skin around it feels healed.

You swing your legs off the bed you're on, and you stand.

You push the hut door open, lifting an arm against the brilliantly bright sun, and you stare at the wide beach ahead of you. Is this the Safe Haven?

You walk out until you see your friends, standing near the beach.

Newt sees you first, a hand coming up to cover his mouth as he points you out, and then everyone's sprinting over.

Minho reaches you first, lifting you into a tight hug.

"Y/n, shuck," he mutters. "We thought we lost you."

"Hey, I'm still a little injured by the way."

Thomas pulls you in next, gentler than Minho, and he bends to look you in the eye. "Never again, okay?"

You huff out a soft laugh. "Never again."

You turn to Newt, who's watching you with half joy, and half regret.

You step up to him and wrap your arms around him, feeling him immediately melt. "If you start apologising, I'm gonna stab you," you warn.

As you're met with silence from everyone, you wince. "Too soon?"

Newt laughs. "Definitely."

After you've hugged and greeted everyone, you look out at community and buildings that have been set up. "This is the Safe Haven?"

Thomas grins at you. "Welcome home."

Sorry for the wait, hope you enjoyed!

[vickysaurus-art]

I’m very bored on a long car ride, so I ended up writing a short ‘What if you could kiss Razor?’ fic. It’s set right after you come back from her skewering you after you give her The Look. Content warnings for graphic descriptions of injury because Razor.

Kiss the Razor

Narrator: “You’re on a- wait, why are you with the princess already?”

Hero: “Well, THAT didn’t work.”

Cheated: “Yeah, whose stupid idea was it to waste The Look on the monster that wants to kill us anyway?”

Smitten: “Ahh, calm down dear fellow… what blossoming romance doesn't hurt at least a little bit? What matters is she likes us. She even said as much!"

Hero: “Oh, a new one of us.”

Cheated: “Great, this one sounds like a useless idiot.”

Princess: “Oh, hi! You came right back here! Great! Then I don’t need to wait to skewer you again!”

Smitten: “Ah, right back into the arms of our love!”

Hero: “I’m afraid that’s the blades of our… love?”

Smitten: “Now leave this to me, fellows. This will require a careful, loving touch.”

Cheated: “No way, that kind of bullshit got us killed last time!”

Smitten: “No-one ever said to love another was easy, or without struggle. But I tell you, with another try we can reach out to our star-crossed lover and walk out of here unskewered and hand in loving… blade.”

Hero: “I don’t know if-“

Cheated: “So she can slice our hands to bits too? Hard pass.”

Narrator: “Now hold on, no-one is walking out of anywhere hand in anything! You’re here to-“

Cheated: “Slay her? More like be slayed!”

Smitten: “Now if you’ll just let me work my plan…”

Narrator: “I’m not sure what’s going on here, but I know you should NOT listen to that voice.”

Princess: “Aww come on, do something already! Well, ready or not, here I come!”

Narrator: “The princess advances on you, blade raised. Whatever you’re going to do, now’s the time!”

Smitten: “Just follow my lead…”

(·“Please, my beautiful angel of blades, you truly are a skewerer without equal, but can’t you and I find something else at least as fun to do together?”)

Narrator: “A deep blush spreads across the princess’s cheeks as she advances upon you, giggling coyly. She does not, however, lower her blade, as she lunges at you-“

Smitten: “We smoothly dodge her blade, catching her lithe body in our strong arms, and dip her like the bladely dance this truly is.”

Cheated: “Oh, that’s not a bad move, we got her now.”

Narrator: “Indeed you do. She looks up at you wide-eyed and blushing as you harmlessly sidestep and catch her. Now would be the perfect opportunity to slay-“

Smitten: “Ignore his heartless blather. There is a much greater opportunity here. Kiss her! Kiss her now! This is the perfect moment!”

Hero: “Can we actually do that?”

Narrator: “What? No! No, I’m not having it! No way! I veto it.”

Cheated: “Hmmm I’m willing to give it a try… And He definitely doesn’t get a veto over anything.”

(·Kiss the Princess)

Narrator: “(frustrated sigh) Fine! Fine. You kiss the cruel, world-ending monstrosity. Happy now?”

Smitten: “Come on! You can do better than that! Give us a proper description!”

Cheated: “Yeah! I wanna know what it’s like!”

Narrator: “No way. I have my dignity.”

Hero: “Don’t you have a job to do properly too? Don’t you have professional dignity too?”

Narrator: “Oh, fine. You stare into the princess’s eyes, and she stares into yours, as you hold her underneath you. She is probably about to skewer you when you press your lips against hers. A small gasp escapes her and she almost goes limp in your hands before she reciprocates eagerly. Despite the slightly metallic taste of her lips, your mutual feeling of joy is truly unbounded as you hold this vicious monster tightly and kiss her.”

Smitten: “Ah-ha, what did I tell you, fellows? She just needs a loving touch and she’s like putty in our hands!”

Hero: “Amazing! I can’t believe it worked after all!”

Cheated: “Yeah, guess he’s not as stupid as I thought! What happens next?”

Narrator: “Well. You kiss for a while, a soft giggle escaping the princess’s lips as they press against yours. The happy moment seems to last forever. And then… um. Oh dear.”

Hero: “What? What is it?”

Narrator: “Um. Well. She starts opening her mouth into the kiss.”

Cheated: “Woah, this is getting real good!”

Smitten: “Ahh, she truly is a creature of passion. Well then, let me continue to take the wheel, fellows, I can assure you I know what to do…”

Narrator: “Um. Yes. She opens her mouth into the kiss and - oh I see.”

Hero: “What does she do?”

Narrator: “You feel a sudden, sharp pain erupt from your beak to your chin as her metal teeth bite down on the entire lower half of your face.”

Cheated: “What?! That’s such bullshit!”

Smitten: “Now hold on, darling…”

Narrator: “You try to pull back, to let her go, but your ‘darling’’s blade arms have caught around your back, cutting into it as she holds herself up. But the pain of the blades slicing into your back is nothing compared to the razor-sharp teeth digging into your face, drawing copious amounts of blood. And with muffled laughter, she bites down. Hard. Bones shatter and sinews sever as her jaws agonisingly dig down through your entire face, her teeth eventually meeting somewhere in what used to be your mouth.”

Smitten: “Now hold on, this isn’t quite what I was going for…”

Cheated: “Total. Bullshit.”

Narrator: “But she does not care what you were ‘going for’. She rips what remains of your face off as she finally pulls back from the grisly kiss. You try to scream, but your throat is filling up with the blood oozing from the ruin of your mouth. The princess laughs a laugh muffled by gore as she stands up, spitting your face onto the ground.”

Cheated: “Hey! That’s ours!”

Narrator: “The princess’s face is streaming with your blood, but not nearly as much as yours is.”

Princess: “You’re right, that was so much more fun than just skewering you immediately! These romantic murders really are something special! I can’t wait to see what you think of next time, hihi!”

Hero: “There’s gotta be something we can still do…”

Narrator: “Not really. You’re standing there with half a face, drowning in the blood pouring from the other half. The pain alone is truly overwhelming. Mercifully, she skewers you.”

Smitten: “Hmm okay, I admit this wasn’t ideal, but hear me out, fellows, perhaps if next time we-“

Cheated and Hero: “NO!”

[midnighmoonligh]

Can I request a fic about kai haveing an accident while playing whit some toys of some sort and the zane helping him and letting him know no one is mad

A/N

Thank you for the request! I hope I did okay :).

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

Fandom

Lego Ninjago

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

Characters

Kai ;; 19 ;; He/Him ;; Little

Zane ;; 30/40s ;; He/They/It ;; CG

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

⚠Content Warnings⚠

Potty Accident & Anxiety.

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

Zane knew Kai wasn’t feeling well after their last adventure. So, his solution? Trying to help him regress. He knew it helped him so logically it worked out in his mind. He tended to be forceful when it came to getting others to regress. He loved caring for age regressors when it was safe for them to do so anyway. He could admit he was not above getting frustrated when faced with a regressor at a bad, unsafe, time.

Today, after a trip to the store, Zane found some toy blocks he thought Kai would enjoy. Thus resulted in what he was doing now. He had gone straight home, excited to show his find to him. As soon as he arrived he went straight to where Kai was trying to sleep. He walked into the shared room, looking around before spotting the hot head curled up on his bunk. He set down the bag of blocks, carefully to not be too loud.

“ Want to build something?” he asked with a smile.

Kai shifted, leaning to be half on his back as he tilted his head behind him to see what Zane was on about. His eyes glanced at the blocks. A frown took over his expression instead of the smile that Zane wanted. He rolled his eyes and turned back over.

Thankfully for the metal friend, this would not deter him in the slightest. He had been doing this for awhile now, more because of how stubborn Kai could be to regress and relax. He was always on the fence about it, if he even remembered right. He gently pushed the bag aside with his foot, then walked across the room so he was by the bunk. He knelt by the bed while reading a hand out to rest it on his shoulder for his attention.

“ Come on, you don’t even want to try?” he asked with a pleading tone. He even went as far as to give him puppy eyes.

“ No. I’m tired and sore. I just want to sleep,” Kai stubbornly replied. The reply made Zane realize it would take quite a bit of effort to get him to regress, let alone play with him.

Zane let out an exasperated sigh. Even with frustration beginning to build in his system, he was not about to give up. He carefully pushed himself up, then sat down on the edge of the bed. The bed dipped where he sat, making Kai shift.

“ I know you are. Relaxing can help with that and I think we both know being little will do just that.”

A few ticks of silence passed over them before Kai finally rolled over to look at him again. Seeing his face again made a smile come to Zane's features, so nice appearing. He waited about a minute more before Kai caved and said something, looking away from him as he did.

“ I don’t even think my brain will let me right now I feel so tired,” he tried to argue.

Zane’s eyes looked away as a brief sulking expression came over him, but he would not back down that easily. He could tell Kai wanted to regress, he was just too tense and overthinking it way too much. He thought about it for a few seconds before reaching a hand out to run it through Kai’s hair. He watched as he shifted to lay fully on his back with a huff at it.

“ How tired are you exactly? “ he asked in a low, almost whisper, tone. He was trying to poke at his excuse more.

Kai huffed at it and tilted his head so Zane’s fingers left his hair. He loved head rubs and scratches, for sure his weakness. He sat up finally, rubbing his face with his hands while exhaling.

“ Not really tired, I guess. Just sore,” he huffed at the stubborn android.

He shifted, sitting up properly while moving to face Kai better. Zane gently pulled his head to his chest, using his other arm to hug him close. Surprisingly, the younger didn’t argue. He just flopped against him. He rubbed his back with his free hand, rubbing in soothing circles.

“ So just sore then? Any other reason you don’t want to regress? ” he asked in a slightly teasing tone.

Kai shook his head though. He didn’t feel like there was any other reason to it than that. He adjusted himself so he was more comfortably leaning on Zane. He did feel better this way. That’s sort of when he realized he already was slipping. Not that it was a big deal, it just surprised him to be so clueless about it. He inhales slowly, tilting his head to look up at him.

“ No, I don’t think so,” he answered more clearly.

Zane chuckled at your stubbornness, he could tell Kai was slowly slipping. His hand shifted from his hair to his back, rubbing slow, soothing circles. His arm remained firmly around his waist, pulling him even closer against him.

" You're quite a stubborn little one, you know that? " he teased.

He knew if he just pushed a little more, he'd slip further. He was eager to care for little Kai. Despite what Zane really expected, Kai just pouted. He sank against him whole growing quiet. He didn't really feel as tired anymore. He even wanted to play for a little while instead of staying in bed. After a little while he pushed himself up from Zane to sit up fully.

" Can we still build something? " he asked quietly, nervously really. He didn't know why, but he had this underlying anxiety that he wouldn't let him anymore.

Of course, Zane noticed this nervousness. He didn't like it, but didn't know how to sooth it. In the end be decided against doing anything about it. Maybe it'd fade with a little time, a little more smaller mind even. A smile spread across his face from Kai's request, though. It truly made him happy that he was coming a little more out of his shell.

" Of course little one," Zane agreed with a short nod.

Kai felt relaxed when he agreed, not wasting time to do so either. Before he could get off the bed, Zane was already up grabbing some blankets they could sit on. Then he unzipped the bag of blocks and dumped them on to the floor. He helped Kai down from the bed, something that definitely made him feel smaller. The little found himself chewing on his bottom lip and inner cheek more often after settling on the soft floor-blankets.

" Do you have any little gear? " Zane asked, not yet sitting as he looked around.

Embarrassment settled over his system at the question. His fingers fidgeted with his clothing to vent this emotion out. Though, his eyes kept on the blocks. He didn't really care about that stuff, he wanted to build. Maybe he'd make a tower or a house. Maybe even a farm?

" Kai, " Zane's monotone voice pulled him from the fun thoughts. He grumbled at this and pointed toward his bed again.

As soon as the older was moving to dig around his bunk, Kai had his hands on the blocks. They smelled odd, but he couldn't find it in himself to care for more than a few seconds. He started building a house with them and wondering about who lived in it. Maybe little fairies did.

Thankfully the more responsible of the two, right now, returned and handed him one of his favorite pacifiers. Without hesitation, Kai's increasingly smaller mind took it and shoved it in his mouth. He could hear him chuckling at this before sitting down across from him. His eyes didn't leave the house he was building.

" Whatcha making? " Zane asked as he handed Kai another block.

" House, " Kai mumbled around the pacifier while taking the offer block and stacking it to make the roof.

" It looks cool already, " he admired with a smile. He only got a nod back, though.

For the most part, the two say in silence while Kai built all sorts of things. He'd build, knock it over, giggle, then build something new out of the destruction. Zane gave small praises between while offering to help clean up. However, he didn't do much besides watching. He liked watching anyway.

It wasn't until an hour later that Zane's attention was grabbed by Kai's sister calling from the ball. Wordlessly, he got up and opened the door. He leaned against it as he talked to her, things that Kai couldn't really grasp right now. The only thing he could think about was his sister. He wanted hugs from her. A fact that was quickly making him pout before he remembered the cool building he was trying to make and returning to that. He felt like he needed to do something, something his body was asking of him. However, his little mind couldn't remember what anymore. He'd remember for a few seconds, then get distracted. Not a lot floated in that sweet head of his right now.

The conversation between Zane and Nya was nice background noise while he played. He was so close to finishing, determined to do so, so he could show them. He placed another block and another, then he felt a strange wetness. Before he could register what was happening, Kai had finished. He stared down at his lap and the blankets that have now gotten wet under him.

Kai had gone potty.

He's never done that before, it was genuinely new. It was scary too. His little mind didn't appreciate the sudden new thing to happen to him. Even when he physically had been a little kid, he didn't do this often. Kai didn't know what to do, but he did know he was beyond embarrassed. His face was red, even his ears gaining that flushed color. With little hesitation, he did only what his little mine could think of, Kai began to cry.

Hearing the sound Zane whipped around so fast it made his neck a little sore. He pushed himself off the doorframe and frowned when seeing Kai, something that seemed to make him cry harder. The little knocked over his building that he was so close to finishing to express further distress.

" Kai what happened? " Zane questioned as he moved closer. He crouched down to his height and looked around, pushing some blocks off and away from Kai.

It took a few seconds, but he figured out what happened in the end. It was difficult to hide things from an android, to be fair.

" Oh baby, " he said sadly once piecing everything together at last. His arms reached out to hug him close, but gently. " It's okay, it was an accident, " he reassured as gently as he could manage.

" You didn't mean to and no ones mad. "

Zane's voice was somewhat soothing, but Kai still felt bad. He ruined play time and made a mess. He also interrupted Nya and Zane's conversation.

" Let's go get cleaned up, okay? " he offered sweetly before trying to pick Kai up.

However, the little had other things in mind. When the attempt to pick him up was made, he cried out and shoved him. He was gross and dirty and didn't want to get Zane that way.

" Kai, please, " Zane pleaded. " I'm not upset and I don't mind. Nothing a little soap and water can't fix, " he pointed out as he cupped his cheeks to make Kai look at him.

" Please? " he almost begged.

Kai couldn't say no to that. It'd make him feel more guilty. So, he nodded. He held his arms up after Zane smiled. Soon after he was scooped right up and taken off to the bathroom. Much to his surprise, when they arrived, Nya popped in with some clean and cozy clothes. Zane looked thankful, but Kai only watched quietly while trying to calm his tears.

Zane had his back to Kai as the little one carefully bathed. It was simply more comfortable that way for him. The older had tried to help, but the younger kept freaking out and crying more. It took some trial and error, but they seemed to have figured it out.

" 'm done, " Kai mumbled so quietly Zane almost missed it.

Thankfully, he hadn't. He spun around and smiled kindly at him. He offered his pacifier, something that was quickly plucked from his hand and shoved into his mouth. It made him snort with amusement. An awkward silence seemed to have settled between them, so Zane opened his arms and offered Kai hug. There was no movement at first, but eventually the little one stepped forward and flopped against the caregiver. He was hugged tight and gently rocked back and forth.

" It's alright, " Zane reminded, voice just barely above a whisper. " There's nothing wrong with you and no ones upset, " he added. Kai nodded to it and clung to him.

" Good boy, " he praised with a gentle kiss to the top of his head. " Now, let's go watch a movie or something. "

And with that, they left the bathroom with the new mission wto cheer up Kai.

[jumpthatjump]

wip, spoilers for infinite wealth

Gonna start posting work in progress fics here. I'm hoping it motivates me to finish them.

Title: Hawaii...2! Pairing: Eiji/Ichiban Word Count: 600 Rating: E, for now Part one of ? Summary: The two of them are re-doing a Hawaiian vacation--properly this time. (First thing: getting shave ice)

Notes: This is nice boy Eiji, and maybe a little sad boy Eiji since it's post game. Eiji stared at the shave ice menu, confused. “This is what you wanted to show me?”

Ichiban had been excited on their trip back to Hawaii--a do over, he had said, just the two of them, he had promised. Going around on a real Hawaiian vacation with none of the bad stuff– hopefully, he had added with a sheepish smile. 

And one of the first places they went was Matsumoto's shave ice, to which Ichiban pointed to the ‘Ichiban Special’ being offered. 

“Isn't this cool?” He took out his phone and held it out to him. “Take a picture of me and the menu.” Then his eyes widened like he just got a great idea. “No, wait!” He took Eiji by the shoulder, guiding him to stand next to him. “The both of us!”

Pressed up against the other man's side, Eiji barely managed a passing smile. It still felt awkward how easily Ichiban forgave him for everything, how he would endlessly offer kind, supportive words anytime Eiji felt guilty and protested.

That's why this is a do over, Ichiban had said earlier with a smile, while Eiji had insisted,

That's not how things work!

And Ichiban gave him an easy reply of, Well, it's good enough for me.

Remembering that exchange, Eiji sighed. If Ichiban was going to do all this for him, for them, then he could try as well. 

He shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “I guess if I saw my name on a restaurant menu, I'd want to try it, too.”

“Exactly.” Ichiban grinned, pleased at being understood. He put his phone away. “What flavor do you want?” The full list was over 30 choices long. “There's so many!”

Eiji glanced at him. Ichiban was squinting, eyes roving over words like Li hing mui, Lilikoi, and Pickled mango. He looked serious. They could only choose one flavor, after all, and he had to make it count, apparently. Eiji looked lower, unable to not get distracted by the other’s attire. Ichiban’s shirt was not the same one from before, this design a simple white sea shell pattern this time, but the rest of it was still a bright vibrant red. 

…What flavor was red?

Ichiban nudged him, an elbow touching his. “Let's get something blue. You like blue, right?”

He did. The shirt under his gray hoodie was plain blue. But he gave him an amused look anyway. 

“I don't think you're supposed to choose based on your favorite color.”

Ichiban’s eyes widened like he had been insulted. “That is exactly how you choose! At least, you know,” he rubbed at his neck, “for the first time you try something new.”

“I hope you’re not thinking about coming back to try every flavor.” Ichiban grinned at him, and Eiji sighed. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

“We gotta get Blue Pineapple.”

There were other blue choices, like Blue Raspberry, even Ramune. “We don’t have to make every choice Hawai’i-related, you know.”

Ichiban shot him such a sad look, that Eiji immediately back peddled, but he tried to sound casual about it. 

“But I can see the appeal. It’s not every day we can do this.”

“I know it’s touristy,” Ichiban said in a way that made it clear that he was enjoying every moment of this. “But there’s a certain charm to it, especially when you share it with those you care about.”

Eiji went quiet at that, because he was not going to get emotional over shave ice, and he nodded in agreement when Ichiban went up to the counter to order. 

[ikeromantic]

A new follower here 🌼

I rlly started to like your fics and I was hoping to see kore of Kyubei 🥺 I swear bro deserves a route for himself, so—

Kyubei - Instructor - 🌸

Kyubei really does deserve a route and a sprite. He’s got to have some interesting stories to tell, working for the kitsune! Here’s to more Kyubei content! Approx. 900 words.

Kyubei held in a sigh. This was going to take time. A lot of time. And of course, the task landed on him because it was yet another thing his Lord Akechi agreed to without actually having time to do it. Well, there was no help for it and at least this wasn’t the most unpleasant thing he’d been asked to do. Far from it.

“So . . . where do I start?” The chatelaine eyed the pile of papers with an anxious eye. 

“Not with those.” Kyubei patted the seat next to him. “This isn’t something you will find on any of our retained correspondence.”

She tilted her head. “Alright, I guess.” She sat primly beside him and looked at the blank slate tile curiously. “So, what is this?”

Kyubei liked how enthusiastic she was to learn things. Always ready to jump in, even when she was scared. “I am going to teach you the first cipher we use with our agents in the field. You have to memorize the symbols and what they mean. So we use this slate board - because we can easily erase everything we write.” 

“Oh! That makes sense! Because if you just had paper lying around with the key, someone could find it.” She grinned. 

That was another thing he liked about her. While her knowledge was woefully lacking in some areas, she could quickly make connections and think things through. She was smart and good natured. Attractive. Kind. 

“Uhm. Kyubei? You’re kind of staring into space. Are you ok? Do you need a break?”

Heat crept up his neck. “N-no. I was just thinking about . . . things. Anyway, Let’s get started.” 

She nodded agreeably, and he bent to the task of showing her the cipher. The symbols weren’t hard to draw - in fact, they were intentionally simple to allow even an illiterate to make them - the lines wide and basic. The hard part was memorizing. A line to the left over a straight line meant enemies north. Two dots meant watched. Three lines horizontal, meant no survivors. And so on. 

“Ok, so if I wanted to say ‘spies to the west’ I would write it like so?” She nearly lost her grip on the narrow bit of chalk, and Kyubei reached to catch it. Their hands met for a heartbeat, her fingers brushing his. an unexpected jolt of warmth shot up Kyubei’s arm at her touch.

He jerked his hand back in surprise. 

“Sorry.” She gave him a lopsided smile. “I’m a bit clumsy.”

“No, no! That was my fault. You had it and I got in the way.” He forced a laugh. “In my line of work, one startles easily. I’m like a rabbit, you know?” He made bunny ears over his own head, hoping she would forgive his reaction and just laugh it off.

After a moment, she giggled. “I do like the idea of Kyu-bunny.”

Kyubei twitched his nose in rabbit like fashion, eliciting another laugh from her. 

“I always have so much fun in our lessons.” She smiled. “I feel like I’ve never properly thanked you.” The chatelaine seemed to lean closer as she said this, or perhaps, Kyubei thought, he was the one bending toward her. 

He cleared his throat, trying to get ahold of the situation. “I-it’s really nothing. At all. I’m just . . . doing as I’m told.”

Her soft laugh made his heart lurch in his chest. “No, I don’t think anyone ordered you to be kind or to make the lessons enjoyable. That’s just you.”

Kyubei couldn’t take his eyes from her face. She captivated him, like a rabbit in a snare. His pulse thundered in his ears and he felt like his face might catch on fire. His mouth didn’t feel capable of words, though he did open and close it as if he had a reply on hand. 

She reached out and laid her hand atop his. “Maybe, if you like, we could go to town one of these days? I’d like to buy you lunch, if you’ll let me. As a thank you.”

“I - I -” He struggled to get his brain to work but all he could think about was the way her hand felt on his, and how warm her gaze was. A mad thought dashed through his mind, what if I kissed her? Kyubei let out a laugh as he imagined her slapping him. She wasn’t flirtatious. She just wanted to say thanks, he told himself. Stop being awkward.   

“Is that a yes?”

He nodded in relief and finally found his tongue. “Yes. Yes, that would be very kind of you. We can pick up some things for the manor too, while we’re out.”

The chatelaine smiled brightly. “We could even spend the whole day together!”

“We - we could.” He swallowed. Like a date. “Is tomorrow alright?”

“Tomorrow,” she agreed. 

Kyubei called an end to the day’s lesson after that. He couldn’t keep the cipher in his head, distracted by every move she made, every breath. His hand still felt warm and tingled where she’d touched it, as if she left some magic in her wake. Ridiculous, of course, for a vassal to feel this way about a princess. He knew nothing could come of it. But that thought did not so much as slow the racing of his heart nor cause the flame within to flicker.

[maxillness]

Dad’s Best Friend || NL1 x Svan!Reader

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, age gap, yearning, hand kink, choking kink (if you squint), talk of absent mother, slow burn-ish

Wordcount: 1.7k

Is this the 3rd post in a row with kitchen sex? Yes, but you wouldn’t have noticed if I didn’t tell you… right?

Anyways, I don’t know how I managed to write a fic where there’s a 1k words build up. It’s not like me

Also, as I wrote this, I imagined it to be set in 2019 where reader is 19 and Niklas 30, but you can imagine it anywhere between mid-2019 and mid-2023

Tag list: @e-nonsense @babyprofessorsharkpalace

She sat on the couch in her father’s home zapping through channels as her phone rang. It was her father

She picked it up “Hey. What’s up?”

“Hey. So, I’m stuck in traffic, looks like for a while. I called Niklas to cancel, but he said he would come over anyway to cook for you. He should be there in a few. Sara and the kids went to her mothers, so it would just be the two of you for a while, just letting you know” He said before sighing

“What? Where are you stuck?” She scrambled to sit on the couch properly

“7 just by Weding. Seems like there happened some kind of crash” He explained

“Wait. If there was a crash on 7, how would Niklas get here?” Her tone was utterly confused

“He was already in Handewitt when I called him” The second he said so, the front door opened “Is that him?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is. Get home safe. Love you”

“Love you too, pumpkin” She hung up the phone throwing it softly on the couch beside her

“Still calls me ‘pumpkin’” She chuckled walking out to Niklas in the kitchen

“You can’t blame him for loving his daughter” He said as he started looking through the fridge “Lasse said you had the things for pasta with pesto. Sounds good?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Thank you for cooking, by the way” She smiled sitting down on the bar stool at the island counter

“Of course, I know how you are in a kitchen, anyway” He chuckled, kissing the top of her head as he passed her

She knew it was wrong, but she hated he only meant the kiss as a friendly gesture. She had had these feeling for him for a lot of years, but only really accepted them after she turned 18

She hated that she couldn’t act upon her feelings, or her fantasies for that matter. She just had to sit in her apartment alone, yearning for something she couldn’t have

She hated how those pretty, big hands of his couldn’t be on her body. She hated the thought of them being on another woman’s body

She hated if she yearned to feel the way his long fingers would feel inside her, or to feel how they would feel around her throat

God, did she love his hands, and it didn’t help that she was sitting in the kitchen while he cooked. She practically drooled at the sight of him working

“Heard from your mother recently?” His words brought her out of her trance, making her look up at him

“No, not recently. She sent me a card on my 18th. That’s the last I’ve heard from her” She sighed

“Sorry. Must be hard for you” He said, his eyes turning soft as he looked into her eyes

“Not really. I’ve lived so long without her. Why would it be hard?” She knitted her eyebrows together in confusion

“I mean, you’ve watched both Marie and Benjamin grow up with their mother. I guess I just thought you might’ve been jealous of them” He shrugged

“Sara has become like a mother to me too, so not really. I’m glad she came into my father’s life” She explained, her eyes drifting yet again from his eyes to his hands

She couldn’t take her eyes off of him even if she wanted to. She could leave the kitchen, but the thought never crossed her mind. She just kept starring at him

The way his delicate finger wrapped around the knife as he cut up the vegetables for the salat, or the way the muscles in his biceps moved every time he did, it sent her into a daze with filthy fantasies

She lightly blushed every time she had caught herself fantasising, but it didn’t stop her further, but he had caught her blushing a few times, and every time he would ask if she was okay, asking if she had a fever or felt hot in any way

She would always dismiss it, telling him not to worry, but of course he did. He had put his hand up to her forehead, feeling her warmth, but she didn’t feel hot in any way

Of course, this contact between skin-against-skin, only sent her further into lewd thoughts, which crept a blush further down her neck and throat

“You sure you’re alright? You look like you’re coming down with something” She coughed slightly before speaking up

“I’m fine. Really” She looked up into his piercing blue eyes “Is the food done soon?” She asked, wanting to shift her thoughts away before she acted upon them

“Yeah. Give me a second. You can find the plates and utensils” He told her as he went back to look down at the counter

She didn’t really have anymore thoughts while they ate, but they all came rushing back when they had to clean

His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows as he was washing off the dishes. Her thoughts went back to those beautiful hands

“Anything I can help with?” She asked as she stood a good amount of distance behind him

“No. I’ve got everything in order, sweetheart” She held back a whine as she tightly squeezed her thighs together at the way he addressed her

To her dismay, he didn’t notice, or that’s what she thought. She leaned against the counter, pulling her phone out of her pocket, starting to scroll through it

She hadn’t noticed the water being turned off before he had pushed her hands away from each other and turned her chin upwards to look up at him

“You sure you’re okay? You’re body’s all red-ish” She lowly whimpered, hoping to god he didn’t hear it

“Well, you did caught me by surprise” Her eyes were filled with innocence as they stared into each others eyes

“I doubt that’s the reason” Their faces were so close they could feel each others breaths on their faces

“Please” It was barely above a whisper as her eyes drifted from his and down to his lips and back up in a quick motion

Her hand tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck when their lips connected softly. She hummed softly as his hands went to her waist, pushing her further into the counter

“You’ll… Hurt your… Neck” She said between kisses, realising just how far he had to bend down to match her height

His hands quickly went to the back of her thighs, lifting her quickly up on the counter “Better?” He asked once he had went back to kissing her

“Much” She smiled into the kiss, loving the way his hands felt on her waist, pulling her closer to his body, making her wrap her legs around his hips

Her hands traveled to his waist and under his shirt as the kiss got sloppy and messy. His lips trailed from her lips over her jaw and down her neck

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her sweats, slowly pulling them down to pool at her ankles as well as her panties

She threw her head back with a whimper as he drew a cold finger between her folds. A whine drew from her lips as he grazed her clit

He teased her entrance before pushing knuckle deep into her. After a few thrusts, he added a second finger, drawing out loud moans from her

Her hands had now grabbed the edges of the counter, supporting herself. He had softly started sucking on her skin, leaving light marks behind

“We have to be quick, don’t know when my dad get’s home” Her words were slurred between moans

He curled his fingers upwards once before pulling them out of her, resulting in her whining at the loss of contact

He pulled her off of the counter, kissing her roughly before turning her around and bending her over the counter

She looked over her shoulder, biting her bottom lip slightly when she saw how fast he was working on his belt and zipper

She watched how his pumped himself a few times before lining himself up with her entrance

His hands felt so good around her waist as he slowly pushed himself inside her, drawing out a few whines from her

She turned her head away from him, closing her eyes shut as her head fell forward. Both of them started spilling moans when he slowly started moving inside her

“Faster, please. I’m begging you” He didn’t hesitate to give into her wishes as he started thrusting faster into her

Her moans got louder when he did that spongy spot inside her that made her see stars

“Right there, fuck, don’t stop” Her words were slurred from her heavy breath in between her loud moans

“The whole neighbourhood will be able to hear you if you don’t keep it down” He pressed his chest against her back, his mouth just by her ear

“S’just feels s’good” She tried masking her moans with whispers, but she failed miserably “Y’fuck me s’good” Her throat had started hurting and gotten dry from her moans

The only sounds filling the house was the sounds of their skin-against-skin contact, as well as their mixed moans and groans

“Fuck, please. I’m gonna come” Niklas could feel himself twitch inside her as he listened to her voice

“Come for me, sweetheart” His tone wasn’t demanding, but it wasn’t soft either. His words had sent her over the edge, coming around him

Her rapid clenching around him, pulled him closer to his orgasm. His thrusts had become sloppy and uneven as he came inside her

Holding her still, he mouthed soft kisses on the side of her neck, pulling her down to earth again

He slowly pulled out of her before they gathered themselves, fixing their clothes. He kissed the top of her head as he handed her a glass of water

“Don’t you dare apologise” She said once she saw they way he opened his mouth to speak “You’ve already apologised once that was unnecessary, don’t do it twice” Her throat hurt like a bitch as she spoke

“Fine, I won’t” He caught her lips in a soft kiss after a short chuckle

[doyelikehaggis]

I’m seriously missing Booby & Freddie on ee 😭 can you please write a fic where they make up and are cute and happy again? (Obviously in your own time, if you feel like it of course 🫶)

Okay, SO, I know it took me WAY too long to get to this ask, and Freddie and Bobby have already made up (though I'm not entirely satisfied with how it happened, but I guess I'll take what I can get), but I have FINALLY written a little something where our boys make up with a twist. Someone on ao3 asked me for a fic where Freddie is sick and Bobby takes care of him, so I took some creative liberties and combined the two into one. I will admit, it isn't necessarily a fic with a happy ending, so I do apologize in advance for that... I hope you enjoy anyway! <3

Freddie doesn't get sick. Ever. Even when he was younger, the cold couldn't touch him and allergies bounced straight off of him. His mum has always been so overprotective and forced a jacket around him whenever he's tried to go out on a grey day with just a hoodie and he's never understood it because he doesn't get sick.

When he says just that to Alfie, he's met with a disbelieving chuckle. He tries to get up out of bed but Alfie places a hand on his shoulder and gently stops him, easing him back down. Admittedly, it's a relief when his head hits the pillows again. It's weirdly heavy today, like he's lugging around a bowling ball on his shoulders.

'Alright, alright,' Alfie says. 'I believe ya, Fred, but we gotta look at the facts, alright? You're pale as a ghost and you're burning up bad. You even sound like your throat's been grated on sandpaper, alright, so I think, just this once, you might have a little bit of a cold, yeah?'

It doesn't make any sense. He never gets sick. He tries again to sit up -- Alfie doesn't need to stop him this time. He can barely move his upper body, a ginormous weight pressing down on it until he's forced to concede. He flops back down with a sigh.

'Alright,' he says, slightly breathless. He closes his eyes against the black dots threatening to creep into view. 'You might have a point, Alf.' 

It's hard just to breathe, now that he thinks about it. Half of his nose is blocked and his throat is a bit raw.

He hears a sigh beside him. Alfie pats his leg through the covers and says, 'Right. I can't leave you like this. I'm going to cancel my appointment, stay home and make sure you're alright. You get some rest.'

Freddie forces his eyes open and stops him. 'Wait, Alf, no. You can't cancel your appointment.'

'Fred, I can't leave you like this,' he repeats. 'I don't know how long I'm gonna be at the hospital neither. What if you need something, or you get worse?' He shakes his head, pursing his lips. 'Nah. I'll just reschedule it, it'll be alright.'

'Seriously, Alf, I'll be fine. I'll just sleep the entire time, please, don't miss this appointment 'cause of me.'

'Fred--'

'It's just a cold,' Freddie insists. 'I'll be fine. Seriously, Alf, you gotta go.'

Alfie hesitates, looking doubtfully at him. He hums and haws, and he gnaws at his lip momentarily before finally, he sighs and points at him. 'Alright. Alright, fine, but I'm not leavin' you by yourself. No arguments. Kat would have my head if she thought I wasn't looking after you properly.'

He doesn't bother arguing further. It wouldn't work; Alfie's already pulling his phone out and holding it to his ear as it rings. Freddie isn't sure who exactly he calls, because he passes out a moment later. 

*

His head is damp when he comes back round. Not just from sweat (though there's a thin layer of that clinging to his skin as well), he realizes when he reaches up groggily and finds a cloth on his forehead. It's still got a bit of coldness to it. It's actually kind of soothing.

He drops it back onto his forehead and closes his eyes with a quiet groan a second after trying to open them. Even the minimal effort drains him to the point of wanting to just go back to sleep. He rolls over, clamping a hand over the cloth to keep it in place. 

Drifting in and out for a few minutes, he jolts awake when he hears a noise from somewhere else in the flat. It doesn't register as weird to him right away. He just chalks it down to Alfie crashing into things like usual, the clumsy bloke. A few beats pass as he settles back into his pillow. 

Alfie should be at the hospital. There's no way he should be back yet. Which can only mean...

Groaning quietly, he forces his eyes open and pushes himself out of his bed, despite every protest from his lead-filled limbs. He nearly trips over on his way to his door. He swallows down the nausea rising like a wave in his throat and yanks the door open, admittedly using the wall for support as he makes his way down the hallway. 

'Alf?' he calls out and is met with a rough, nails-on-chalkboard sound that is dragged out of him. He grits his teeth through it and tries again as he stumbles on. 'Alf, I told you not to worry about me. You should be at the--'

He comes to a stop in the kitchen. Standing by the microwave as it bzzz's away is not Alfie. It's Bobby. He looks over at him now, and while his face remains the way it's been for the last few days, there is a slight twitch in his eyebrows.

'You shouldn't be out of bed,' Bobby says, turning away from him again. 'Alfie called me and asked if I would come over to make sure you're okay while he's at the hospital. He should be back in a few hours.'

The explanation still doesn't really feel like it explains anything. Freddie stays, swaying and confused, staring at Bobby in bewilderment until he chancs another glance at him. 

'You don't look good,' Bobby says. Maybe Freddie's hopeful in his sick, delusional state but it almost sounds like he's concerned. 'Go back to bed. I'm just heating up some soup in case you're hungry, but you should really be trying to sleep as much as possible. I also put a glass of water on the drawers next to your be, so you should have a few sips and take the painkillers I put there as well if you haven't already.'

It's weird how formal he's being about it, yet Freddie can't bring himself to care about that. This is the most that Bobby has said to him since... since he slept with Anna. A well-timed wave of nausea washes over him again and he steadies himself with a hand against the wall. 

'Bob, why are you...' He swallows thickly, breathing only through his nose for a moment. When he speaks again, it's through clenched teeth in the fear that something other than words might slip out otherwise. 'Why are you doin' this? I thought that you never wanted to--'

'I'm here because Alfie asked,' Bobby cuts him off. He folds his arms around himself and stares firmly at the countertop as he lightly shrugs. 'He's like family to me and I care about him. I know he's going through a lot right now, so I'm not going to make it harder on him by letting my personal problems get in the way of his.'

Freddie closes his mouth. He nods, not trying to plead his case again. He's honestly too drained. Instead, he just says, 'Well, I appreciate it anyway. I'm gonna go lie back down, like you said.'

He pushes away from the wall, swaying, and holds onto it for a moment until the dizzyness passes.

Bobby notices. He hesitates, then moves towards him with a sigh. 'I'll help you. You look like you're about to collapse.'

'I feel it as well,' Freddie says, chuckling lightly. The noise is far away in the distance from his own ears and he's not even entirely sure any of this is actually real. He blinks and he's being lowered back into his bed by a seemingly invisible entity. 

His eyes fall closed again and the darkness swallows him back up.

*

This time, when he wakes, he's drawn to consciousness by the smell of something spiced and savoury. It's funny because for a moment, lying there with his eyes closed, inhaling the familiar scent, he's sure he's back at his mum's as she boils soup to heat them both up through the winter. A smile has already found its way onto his face as he rolls over -- only to be hit with a wave of dizzyness. It comes back to him in a tidal wave that pushes him under with an unbearable weight. 

He opens his eyes and inhales sharply. It's a difficult feat; he can't even breathe in through his nose. How do people cope with this? He's never felt so bad in his life. It crosses his mind that he might finally have been tracked down by Covid but he brushes it off, too tired to wonder how or why. It's probably just an average cold, even though he never gets sick.

Something else crosses his mind. Bobby. He was there, in the flat, earlier. 

Freddie is tempted, momentarily, to get out of bed again and see if he's still hanging around. However, a deep ache in his limbs stops him from moving. If he's light-headed just from rolling over, there's a good chance he'll faceplant straight into the wall if he tries to stand up.

Fortunately, he doesn't need to test it. The floorboard outside his room creaks and before he can see if his aching throat will allow any sound out, his door softly opens and Bobby pokes his head inside. His eyes widen when he finds Freddie staring back at him already.

'You're awake,' he says, taking a step into the room. 'Erm, I was just checking if you were okay.'

'Didn't die in my sleep,' Freddie says, and lifts a lead-filled hand to give him a thumbs up. It drops back onto his stomach immediately. His face scrunches. 'How long was I asleep for? Felt like ages.'

'Only about an hour, I think.' Bobby toys awkwardly with the silver bracelet on his wrist. 'You should try and get some more sleep, you still don't look well.' His brows furrow as he speaks, and he steps further into the room, coming closer to him. 'Have you got a fever?'

As he asks, he gingerly presses his hand to Freddie's forehead. It's freezing against his clammy skin. Disappointment swoops down on him when he takes it away with a concerned hum. 

'I'm going to get you another cold cloth to try and take it down.'

'You're a right proper little nurse, ain't ya?' Freddie jokes, attempting a grin. As Bobby averts his eyes and goes to leave, panic grips him for some reason, and all of a sudden he's holding onto his hand. 'Wait. I, erm...'

He swallows thickly and regrets it. It feels like he's swallowed glass.

'I'll be right back,' Bobby says softly. He even gives his hand a light squeeze before taking it back and leaving the room. Sure enough, he returns quickly -- or maybe it just feels that way in Freddie's slightly delirious state -- holding a new facecloth.

Freddie watches him as he gently smooths back his hair from his forehead and lays the cloth on it. Once again, the cold is soothing. He actually finds his eyes wanting to remain closed when he blinks, an odd sense of relief washing over him. At least, over his head, which felt like it was filled with an angry beehive a moment ago. 

'Thanks,' he murmurs, though he's not positive the word actually leaves his mouth.

'Do you need anything else?' Bobby asks.

Freddie swallows again, this time trying to disloge the words that want to spill out. More than anything, he knows what he wants right now. What he needs. But it would be selfish to ask now for Bobby's forgiveness. He's too kind, his heart too big for his own good, one day it'll explode from trying to hold love for everyone and everything. He'd give him his forgiveness, but only because he feels bad for him, seeing him so weak and vulnerable.

It's not fair and it's selfish. Two things that only really occur to Freddie after the fact.

He looks up at him, his face dropping as another wave of panic washes over him at the thought of Bobby leaving the room again. Leaving him. Being alone has always been too hard for him to deal with, it drives him mental.

'Can you just... can we talk? Or you can talk and I'll just lie here,' he offers. 

Bobby looks away from him, just like in the cafe, just like every time he's tried to talk to him since that day in the Vic.

'Bob, please,' Freddie says, even though every word is another mouthful of glass. 'I get that you can't forgive what I did, and you don't need to. I just... I need you. I need my best mate.' He bites his bottom lip as Bobby's mouth twitches. 'You can even sit here and tell me how much you hate me if you want. Just don't go.'

Something he said must've worked because Bobby sighs but he doesn't leave. Instead, he lowers himself onto the edge of the bed, his hands braced on his knees as he stares at the floor, shaking his head.

'I don't hate you,' he says like that should've been obvious. 'It's just... what you did, it really hurt me, Freddie.'

'I know that,' he says but he fails to think of something to follow it. Any excuse feels like just that. An excuse.  'I'm sorry. I am, I swear to you. I wish I'd never done it, Bob, and I know Anna does too. I never wanted to hurt you.'

Silence falls over them as the words hang between them. Freddie knows that they don't matter. What does matter is that he did hurt him, and he has no idea how to fix it. He can't take it back, and it's not like he can just make him a cup of tea and buy him some flowers and everything will be alright again.

Bobby sighs again. 'Look, you're ill, we don't need to talk about this. It's not like it really matters now, anyway.'

'Course it matters,' Freddie says, his brows furrowing. 'I can't stand this. I need to make it right, Bob.'

To his surprise, Bobby shakes his head. 'No, you don't.' He finally looks at him directly. 'You made a mistake, Freddie. I can't exactly hold that over you with my own track record. I just... I wish that it had been you who told me, that's all.'

'Me too,' Freddie says sincerely. 'I wanted to, for weeks.'

'But my dad beat you to it.' Bobby face contorts. 'I'm really sorry about that, by the way. About him. He should never have said those things about you, or about Anna, especially not in front of everyone like that. I think he thought he was protecting me but he embarassed the two of you, and I didn't want that.'

Freddie's confused by the sudden turn of the tables. How did they go from barely talking to Bobby apologizing to him? He manages to push himself up slightly on his elbows, groaning behind clenched teeth as it takes a good chunk of his energy to do so. Still, it's worth it. Until the cloth falls off his forehead.

'Here,' Bobby says, already scooping it back up and pressing it gently to his skin once more. He holds it there. 'You really don't look well. Have you talked to a doctor? Or Sonia. She's a nurse, she might be able to help. Actually, let me call her, she might be able to come over.'

Freddie barely has time to process what he's saying but quickly stops him when he pulls out his phone. He can't help it; he smiles, big and stupid, because it hasn't been like this for ages. 'Nah, no need. Just a cold, innit?'

'But you told me you don't get sick,' Bobby argues, growing visibly more concerned. 

'I don't, usually. Guess I just got unlucky this year.' He shrugs. 'Maybe it's Karma.'

The words slip out before he can think about them. He worries that they'll drive Bobby away again, not finding any humour in the situation, and why should he? Freddie's the idiot for thinking it's alright to joke about, but he's sick and his brain doesn't work at the best of times, never mind when it's covered in germs. 

Germs. He stares at Bobby in confusion, still holding the cloth to his forehead. Sitting on his bed, right beside him. Touching him.

'Hey, I thought you didn't like germs and you know, things like this,' he points out. 'Your OCD.'

It only occurs to him after he's said that maybe bringing it up could trigger it if Bobby hadn't thought about it. 

If that is the case, he doesn't let it show much. Bobby's expression twitches a little, and he nods, raises a shoulder, and he says, 'Yeah, I don't, but... I can keep it under control when it's not too bad. Besides, I'm not that scared of getting sick. It might mean I don't have to sit through another True Crime documentary at Sonia's.'

Freddie cracks a smile. He has a thought but it doesn't make it beyond that stage, cut off as Bobby speaks again.

'And... somebody has to look after you,' he says, a smile quirking the corners of his mouth. 

'Well, I'm glad it's you.' At Bobby's quizzical expression, he lightly raises a shoulder. 'No one else around here's got a great bedside manner, if I'm honest. Alf tries but the bloke makes me more worried about him half the time.'

It isn't funny, even he knows that, yet Bobby laughs like it is. Ducking his head, shoulders shaking with mirth as he lifts his eyes back up to him, sparkling, pressing his lips together like it'll do anything to contain it. Even if it worked, nothing could tone down the pink that rises to his cheeks automatically. 

It's something that Freddie's noticed before. The way he literally lights up when he's genuinely happy. He hasn't seen it in a while. Before he knows what he's doing in his somewhat delirious state (or at least that's the excuse he'll use if Bobby asks for one), he's reaching out and touching the back of his fingers lightly against the faint blush. 

Bobby freezes, his eyes darting to his hand. When they slide back over to Freddie, though, he doesn't say a word about it. He presses his lips together again in a faint smile before taking his hand gently in his own and readjusting the cloth on his forehead like some nurse in a World War 2 movie. Freddie remembers watching a lot of those for school. He always reckoned it was pretty romantic; having someone care that much. 

A completely mental thought crosses his mind. It's one of those ones where he'd just do it, let impulse take over, then take the consequences later because he can't quite compute that maybe he shouldn't. Except, he can barely keep his eyes open at the moment, let alone move his entire body. He has to settle for squeezing Bobby's hand.

'You look tired,' Bobby notes. His eyebrows have once again knitted in concern and Freddie wants nothing more than to smooth it back out with his fingers. He starts to move his hand to do it but stops when he remembers it's already being held. 

''M okay,' he mumbles, but one blink feels like ten minutes of darkness. He tires not to blink at all. 'Just a bit cold.'

He hadn't realized it was true until he said it, but his body is overcome with a deep shiver in his bones, and all of a sudden it's like he's outside in the rain in just his underwear. 

'That's good,' Bobby assures him. 'It means your body is fighting it. I'll see if Alfie has a thin blanket somewhere.'

Freddie mumbles something, even he's not sure what, just that it's a protest. He shakes his head and holds on tighter to Bobby's hand, stopping him from leaving despite him not actually moving yet. 

'Nah, don't need to,' he says. 'Just, erm...' He blinks rapidly and does his best to keep Bobby's face in sight. 'Just keep talking, I don't wanna go back to sleep just yet. Talk to me. 'Bout anything, doesn't matter what.'

Bobby flounders, as he usually does when put on the spot. But after a moment, he inhales, and he says, 'Erm, okay. Right, well... I've seen some stuff about a new movie that I kinda wanna see. It's a prequel in a series that I actually really enjoyed. I didn't even know they were making one, or that they'd released a new book, either. I want to go and see it in cinemas but, well, I'm not really good with places like that, to be honest.'

'We can go together,' Freddie says immediately. He shifts his body to be laying on his side, tucking his free hand beneath his head as he looks up at Bobby. 'Yeah, it'll be a laugh.'

'Well, the movie's not really a comedy,' Bobby says nervously. 'It's actually a little dark, from what I've heard.'

Freddie shrugs. 'We'll still have a good time. We always do, you and me.'

'Yeah,' Bobby says, and his mouth curves into a faint smile. 'Yeah, we do.'

'Hey, Bob? I know I said no to the blanket, but could you get in here with me? I'm freezing, and I just need something to, like, I don't know what the word is, but I just think it'd help a bit, you know? Is that stupid?' 

He somehow manages to keep his tongue tied enough not to admit that he just wants to be close to him. It's not a new feeling. Honestly, since the day he met him, all he's wanted is to be near him. It's like some kind of magnet, drawing him in. Right now, it's so intense he feels like he meet explode if he even lets go of his hand. Maybe that's completely mental and a bit pathetic. He doesn't care.

It takes Bobby a moment to answer. Or maybe it's only a second. It's hard to tell.

But no matter how long it takes, when he speaks, it's to say, 'No, that's... that's not stupid at all. Yeah, of course.'

It doesn't really register with Freddie that he didn't reject the request until Bobby is carefully climbing onto the bed that used to feel a lot bigger. Not that he's complaining. It's actually a relief to be so close to him as Bobby positions himself to be half-sitting, half-laying with him. Just enough for him to keep adjusting the cloth on his forehead and for Freddie to sluggishly pull his own body a few inches closer to press his head into his side. 

He was right. The ticking time bomb inside of him cuts out. There's only a heavy relief and comfort as he splays his arm over him and takes a deep breath in time to the beat of his pulse. Not slow but not fast, either. Even the pressure of his ribs against his forehead is soothing.

He says something. What, though, he has no idea, because a moment later, he is asleep. For how long, he also has no idea. When he next opens his eyes, it's like it's been ten minutes and ten hours. Either way, his limbs ache a little less but are weighed down with exhaustion still. 

He wonders if maybe that's why Bobby is still in the bed with him. Maybe he didn't know how to slip out of his grasp without disturbing him, and knowing him, he'd rather suffer in discomfort for hours than maybe someone else uncomfortable. Then again, he doesn't look so uncomfortable with his eyes closed, his head tilting slightly to one side as he breathes deeply. Sound asleep.

Freddie decides not to bother him. He just closes his eyes again and lets his mind and body win out this time without a fight, drifting right back off. 

*

It's only about a day before Freddie is back to being himself. There isn't a single trace of sickness left in him as he zips right up out of his bed and into the kitchen to grab breakfast. He does have to crack his neck and stretch his limbs out a bit more than usual after being in bed for about three days straight, but aside from that, he would be willing to believe that he was never actually sick at all. 

Some tupperware sitting on the side labelled "soup :)" proves otherwise. He smiles to himself. He has no idea if he actually ate any of it while he was sick, but he makes a mental note to try and remember to thank Bobby for it later all the same. 

But when he sees him just two hours later, he has a much more pressing thought on his mind, pulled forth from his somewhat delirious state by the tupperware. It sits at the ack of his mind, tickling away at his brain like an itch he can't reach no matter how hard he tries.

To his relief, Bobby smiles when he sees him. So, it was definitely real. They're friends again. 

'Hey,' he says immediately, stopping right in the middle of the market despite his hands being loaded with bags. 'Alfie told me you were feeling better. I was gonna come over later and see how you were doing.'

'Yeah, yeah, I'm good. Thanks, Bob.' He wets his lips, his impatience getting the better of him as the itch begins to grow irritable, demanding attention. 'Erm, I was just wondering, though... did I say anything? You know, anything, like, weird or something? 'Cause, I just have this feeling like I did but I can't remember what it was and it's driving me mental.'

'Oh. Erm.' Bobby averts his eyes. 'Not really, no.'

Freddie stares at him. 'Come on, Bob. Now I definitely know I did or you wouldn't be actin' so weird about it. What was it? Look,' he presses on before he can get a chance to speak, 'whatever it was, I'm sorry, yeah? I was so out of it, I've genuinely never felt like that before and I think it was making me a bit... well, mental.'

Bobby glances up at him. His lips quirk ever so slightly at one side. 'Right. Yeah.' He shakes his head and chuckles, straightening up. 'Yeah, of course. No, it's totally fine. You're good, it doesn't matter.'

'You sure?' Freddie asks, raising his eyebrows. 'But I did say something, then?'

'Yeah, but it was just... like you said, you weren't yourself,' Bobby says quickly. 'The fever. It's fine, Freddie, really.'

He wants to protest and push him for an answer, slightly irritated that he still doesn't know what exactly it was that he said. It feels important; his stomach flips like a pancake when he thinks about it and his heart starts beating way too fast, and it's unnverving him a bit, actually. 

Either he can see this or he just knows him too well, Bobby rolls his eyes and sighs. 'You just...' He lowers his voice, leaning in slightly even as he avoids looking directly at him. 'You said that... that you love me. Well, more that you were in love with me, actually, but it really doesn't matter. You were really sick, you'd probably have said anything.'

A flash of something comes back to him. Him, curled into Bobby in his bed, trying to get as close to his heartbeat as he physically could. Hearing the beat of it. Wanting to be in sync with it. To be with him. 

Oh. Shit. 

'Wait. Bob, I--'

'Freddie, it's fine,' Bobby cuts him off quickly, grinning. 'Really, it didn't bother me. Don't worry about it.'

'But, Bob, I...' His voice trails off.

Bobby is smiling at him. Talking to him. Last week, he was sure that would never happen again an he had blown any chance of ever being able to fix things between them. So, he does something he's never usually able to do. He stops himself from saying something that might undo it all. 

Smiling back at him, he forces a chuckle and nods. 'Thanks.'

For a moment, they're just looking at each other. Freddie's mind is in even more chaos than usual, trying to round up every rogue thought desparate to make its escape. He's beyond grateful when Bobby snaps out of it first and remembers he was on his way somewhere before running into him. 

'I need to get these to Sonia's,' he says, nodding towards her house across the square. 'But, I'll see you later, yeah?'

The four words are just enough to reinforce it in Freddie's mind. He clamps his mouth shut and nods enthusiastically, only just managing to say, 'Yeah, absolutely!' without anything else slipping out. He turns and watches him walk away, grinning. It begins to fade the further he gets and all of a sudden he's cursing himself. 

He is a terrible liar, especially around Bobby. What was he thinking? How is he ever supposed to stop himself from blurting out that he might actually be completely, hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with him? His shoulders sink and he closes his eyes, sighing in anguish. He is so screwed. 

[special-bc-ur-part-of-it]

for your kisses fic prompt

35. …to gain something.

hi, sorry this took me so long to get to! got busy with work and summer classes and life stuff and then writer's block happened for a bit. but anyway! here's:

35. ...to gain something

“So let me get this right,” Blaine says, needing to restate the puzzle pieces of what Kurt just told him for himself. “You have a third date with this guy this weekend, and if it goes well again, you want to kiss him, but you don’t feel confident that you know how to kiss someone, so you want to kiss me to gain confidence.”

“Yes,” Kurt answers, nothing but serious. “I know it sounds…”

“A little insane?”

“Yeah, I know it sounds insane but…” Kurt lets out a sigh, finally stops his frantic pacing since he’d burst into their shared dorm, and takes a seat on the edge of his bed. “It’s embarrassing. I’m nineteen years old and I’ve never properly kissed a guy. Everyone else has had a proper first kiss by now…”

“Kurt…”

“No, please don’t—”

“If this guy is any decent, he won’t judge you for not having a proper first kiss yet. There’s plenty of people who don’t have a proper first kiss until college.”

“Are there really?” 

“Well, I can’t speak from personal experience, but…”

“It’s stupid that I’m embarrassed about it, isn’t it?”

“It’s not stupid.”

Before he can try to convince his roommate otherwise, Kurt starts spiraling. “It is. It’s stupid and insane and… Pointless. It’s pointless! I’m already embarrassed about the fact that I haven’t properly kissed a guy, and that’s not gonna change, and then I won’t be able to kiss him, and then maybe I just won’t be able to kiss a guy ever and—”

“Okay,” Blaine stops him. “I’ll do it.” It’s nothing but sincere.

“What?”

“I’ll kiss you. If it’ll help you be more confident with this guy, then I’ll do it. But we both have to promise that this won’t make anything weird between us, we’re still gonna be just…great friends after this, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Why would it make anything weird? You’re just helping me out as a friend and a really great roommate.”

“Just bros helping bros.” 

“Bros helping— yeah, no, I’m not repeating that.” 

“Okay. Just…come over here,” Blaine says, patting the empty space next to him on his own bed as Kurt crosses the room to sit next to him. “You want to be the one to kiss him, right?” he continues.

“Yeah. I mean…I think so.”

“Rule Number One: don’t be nervous about it. I know you can be confident, so..be confident. If you want to kiss him, then just go for it. Ask permission first, but– you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I get it. …Can I kiss you?” Kurt asks, slightly biting at his bottom lip. Blaine nods and lets his eyelids slide closed as Kurt’s lips meet his own and Kurt’s hands come up to sort of cradle his face. He kisses back, but it takes just about everything in him to fight that pull in his chest that makes him want to just keep kissing Kurt again and again. Maybe, if they weren’t roommates or best friends, or if Kurt wasn’t going out with another guy, that could happen. But it can’t right now. Because they’re just friends and because he’s just doing this to help Kurt gain confidence. It doesn’t matter what other feelings he has for Kurt. He doesn’t need to know that.

“Was that…okay?” Kurt asks, cheeks flushed, when they break apart. 

“That was…” Amazing, breathtaking, and I think that’s the best kiss I’ve had maybe ever are all thoughts that come to mind. Instead, he continues: “Yeah! Yeah, that was..great! I mean, like, ‘great’ in the totally objective ‘you’re gonna be absolutely fine kissing him’ type of ‘great.’ Like, I don’t know why you were so nervous about that. Um, excuse me, I’m just gonna..go down to the common room for a minute, um, see if there’s anything good snack-wise or… I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Okay? Have fun I guess?” 

Blaine rushes out of their dorm in a way that seems as much like he’s not rushing out as possible even though he feels like he might just combust. Once he’s on the other side of the door, he lets himself slide down the hallway wall to sit on the floor and breathe for a minute. 

Why did he agree to kiss Kurt? Yes, he wanted to help him out, but he should have known better, given his feelings for his roommate that said roommate does not and cannot know about. He should have known that kissing him was only going to amplify the feelings he’s been shoving down and hoping would just go away for…however long he’s been crushing hopelessly on Kurt. He should have known that, as much as he can try to convince himself that what happened wouldn’t make things weird, the fact that they kissed is probably, definitely, going to make things weird. For him, at least. He’s an idiot, isn’t he?

kiss list | more kisses

[latte-virgo-lion]

// ooc ; have a short fic? written bit? abt Latte + Dr Cockroach bc it's been in my brain lately

cw : for uncontrolled transformation/mutation (offscreen, implied) , mentions of drinking/drunkeness

(QUICK ADDITIONAL NOTE: this is NOT meant to be a "tf fic". yes it. technically is, I'm aware of that, but it's not meant to be that kind of transformation, respectfully. this is more horror trope-esque werewolf without the horror)

Julian pouted, fumbling with something outside of the doctor's line of sight. He initially dismissed it, until he realized fifteen minutes had passed, and the cat-man was ​still​​​​ fighting with something.

"Jules, is there any way I can help you?" He asked, getting up out of his chair to assist.

Julian's ears flattened slightly, and he looked over his shoulder with an almost panicked or... embarrassed expression? The doctor wasn't quite sure. "I uh, I'll be alright, Gregor, just having a ah, technical difficulty." He stammered slightly, trying to turn his body away, "There's no need, honest!"

Dr Cockroach frowned, knowing Julian enough to know something was up. "What in the world are you trying to get into?"

"Genuinely : medication. Of a sort." His smile faltered, and he shrugged, "I wasn't going to have much of a shot to hide this anyways." He sighed, and turned to face him.

Dr Cockroach wasn't exactly ​startled​​​​, but he was definitely taken aback. "What happened to your hands?" He came closer, taking Julian's hand to investigate further.

"It's an... Unintended side effect of my own transformative experiments." He sighed, fumbling the glass jar he had been fighting with onto a nearby table; it started to roll away, only to be caught by Dr Cockroach's swift hand, and gently sat upright.

"But... Are these pawpads?" He questioned further, prying open Julian's altered hands to look closer. "These are... These are claws-" he glanced at Julian's face, only to see a mildly discomforted grimace.

"That ah... tickles, Doctor."

Julian's hands and forearms, up to the elbow, had been altered into what were clearly some kind of feline paw - stockier and bulkier than even most big cat species that the doctor could think of, not to mention the somewhat unnatural patterning that mirrored his ears. "So, you need this 'medication' to undo this, correct? Will your mutation keep going?"

"It's like... Werewolves I guess? After a while it ebbs, and later I'll be dealing with it again. It has more to do with the phase of the moon than if it's day or night though. Just lines up with the phases. Right now is the 'big ole' paws that can't do small work' phase." Julian shook his head, "Later comes the more animalistic phases."

There was a small silence as doc looked worriedly at him.

"Oh- no no, not like violent or anything. Just, less… Human-like, if that makes sense?"

He blinked, "I think I understand." Probably similiar to his his desire for trash and the like.

Julian sighed, "If you would be able to help me with the ah, medicine, I'd appreciate it." He smiled, with a slightly pained expression, "I hate having to ask for assistance like this-"

His antennae twitched slightly. "I don't mind at all, I apologize if I was quiet, I'm just," he paused, "I'm just very... intrigued. You said it's effected by the phase of the moon?"

He blinked, "Well, er, yes. I'm not quite sure why, honestly. I had assumed there was some magical material in the moon that reflected in light, but I think now it's more of a biological clock, since your reality doesn't have the same magic mine does, and it's not due to exposure to moonlight-"

"And if you don't take this... medicine, it will advance further?"

"Yes, it's a sort of cell blocker, preventing it from taking over my body."

"So when you said animalistic -"

"My entire body will turn into a cat, yes. Well, a feline of some sort... I can't really properly document anything while in that state, so what I have about it is more vague than I would prefer." Julian paused, and tilted his head, "Are you interested in observing it advance, Gregor?"

"I would never want to impose such a thing, I can imagine going through that could be harrowing." Dr Cockroach answered, "I am curious... but I don't want to impose."

"It's much less 'Harrowing' and much more," He bit his lip, "Slightly embarrassing, I'd say? I mean, cats have a reputation to be, how do i put this..."

"Mean?"

"Goofy. Silly. Not much going on behind the curtains."

"If it helps any, I won't tell a soul - but I won't ask of you, unless it's something you're comfortable with foregoing."

He shrugged, "I wouldn't have volunteered to otherwise, doctor.

"Though I will say, you will probably need to set aside a space for the later stages of this, and the final stage will last for a few days; I may not act entirely as myself and may do things I would regret later."

"Julian, I cannot imagine this will be worse than having seen you drunk under the table"

He scoffed, "That's true, but you as drunk as I!"

[bacon-sandwich-of-dionysus]

Bloodhound. (A Ghost x AFAB!Reader fic)

Act One, Chapter Seven: All The Better To See You With

First off, I am so sorry for the ridiculously long wait! I know people will be telling me not to apologise but I am going to because I have kept you all waiting for too long! Thank you all for your patience, you're all great :3.

I've been so busy with various shenanigans and also just being generally tired... even though exams ended more than a month ago(?).

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this chapter... Though, I have to admit, I'm not sure if this is me best work but maybe that's me being a stereotypical, self-critical writer :P.

Warnings: Violence, threats of violence, people being extremely dodgy, swearing and horror elements

Here's a little fun thing for you to do: can you guess which CoD villain is in Y/N's flashback?

The plan had a rough structure, but it needed polishing. Phillip had forgotten what had worked on 141 and the Vaqueros last time and that was the element of surprise. They had grown fond of him, too fond of him, and that rendered them vulnerable. Like a fool turning their back on a wild cat, Phillip had exploited their friendliness and pulled the wool over their eyes; and whilst he couldn’t charm his way to Ghost, his infection and the renegade, Graves knew he could still use that element of surprise to his advantage regardless of whether it was via sweet-talking his prey or pouncing from the shadows.

Having them completely oblivious until it was time for him and his boys to break in and extract their targets would be perfect. Phillip needed to ambush them. Springing an ambush had worked on the Las Almas Cartel and it would surely work on the Vaqueros and their British friends. An ambush would also leave no time for re-introductions and other such pleasantries, and so Phillip could conceal his shame and preternatural resurrection from them.

However, the issue of having them completely clueless of his pack’s presence merely a few kilometres away from the Vaquero base would require Valeria’s delivery of the ‘package’ to Ghost to be so subtle that the keen-eyed Manc wouldn’t even know what hit him… or more like bit him. Basically, Valeria would need to be invisible.

Maybe, if they extracted Ghost first and then delivered the package-

“No,” Valeria chuckled, “It doesn’t work like that, my dear.”

Phillip turned around to face her, tilting his head to one side.

“How come?”

“The Foundation want you to infect him first, give his body time to either adjust to the disease or die, and then you bring them back either a corpse or a live Arcadian Son.”

“What?”

A shudder ran through him.

“With the live ones,” the drug lord let out a sigh, “it’s always a gamble. Some die, some don’t. If he doesn’t die, great. If he does, no matter, the Foundation will just make him one of you.”

Graves clicked his tongue, thinking about how to react to this information.

“Just don’t come back empty-handed,” Valeria advised, “They’ll be furious.”

“What happens if I do piss ‘em off and come back empty-handed?” Phillip dared to ask.

Valeria smiled resignedly.

“You’ll lose your privilege of being a good Arcadian Son. You’re here on this job because someone’s obviously put in a good word about you. If you fuck up, you’ll develop a reputation.”

Graves chuckled wryly.

Of course.

He knew what she meant by that. No one wants a contractor with a shitty record. He didn’t build a PMC empire by being a bad commander. He supposed similar rules applied here. Phillip needed to ensure his victory, should he want to have some form of success in this afterlife.

As he looked at Valeria, he began to wonder who exactly she was before she became Sin Nombre. Was she like 72 and 23? Like the renegade they were going to capture? Or had she always been… well, this?

“When you were a lamia,” Graves leaned a little forward, “what was it like?”

“Terrible,” she bluntly replied.

Phillip was a little taken aback by that.

“Valeria, hun, just answer my question properly. You’ve got nothin’ better to do.”

A clawed hand gestured to her tied-up state, body flush against the bark of a tree. Her lip curled a little upwards as her eyes glared at his gloved mitt and those ghastly metal talons.

“Fine,” she growled, “I was in Unit 4. My packmaster was the Foundation’s equivalent of royalty. Undead like you. He was… is… a terrible man, even by Arcadian Son standards.”

“Royalty?”

Valeria nodded.

“Did he have a number? Or a name?”

“4242.”

“That all?”

Valeria remained silent. That was all.

Footsteps sounded behind Phillip and he looked to see his men had returned from whatever they had been doing last night.

Two of them were fully armoured while one, 7629, was still getting his chest piece on, pulling it over his head as he trailed behind the others.

“Morning, boys,” Graves greeted them, “Y’all feeling up to a bit of planning?”

They all trudged into the camp rather sluggishly, with mumbles and half-assed nods being their replies.

Phillip didn’t really care for the whining protests and loud yawns coming from their masked faces as they reluctantly took their seats as he demanded. Eventually, though, they all simmered down and, once Graves had cleared his throat, he began.

“The best way to ensure extraction is a success is to catch these men off-guard. They’re special forces, meaning they’re good at their fucking jobs, but, like with any specialist, I find if we make ‘em start questioning their competence in the heat of battle, they fall apart very quickly.”

They all seemed to agree with that, nodding along.

“So, if we want the element of surprise, Valeria here needs to deliver the package to our target without being seen.”

Then, Graves sighed.

“Which is where I’m stuck. How do we get this woman into the base without her or our cover being blown?”

His men’s demeanour had now changed, they had gone from tired and disinterested to engaged, almost excited, as they pondered on what to do. Graves surveyed them, keeping an eye out for any indication of a ‘light bulb’ moment. The atmosphere of surrounding the circle of men was slowly shifting from dull and weary to something livelier. Electricity was in the air as brains whirred, the gears in each and every skull turning, wondering what could be done to overcome this potential setback. The collective buzz of mumbles of potential plans, rustles of idle fidgeting and clicking tongues all gave way to the climax of this crescendo of thought which came from 7152’s mouth:

“Isn’t there a spare of hepta-plate in one of the lamia’s bags?”

Everyone turned to look at him.

“Is there?” 7418 asked, almost to himself.

“Will it fit our asset?” 7629 queried.

Graves watched them all descend upon 7152, barraging the guy with questions and contest. Curious himself, he rose from his seat on the ground and headed for their bags.

Sifting through the pile of rucksacks and duffels, sorting through them by briefly peeking at their contents, Graves arrived at a bag which looked to belong to one of the girls.

Carefully, he unbuckled the flap and pulled it back to reveal a zip. Not a moment later and Phillip was staring at exactly what he was looking for: a spare set of hepta-plate. He returned to the group with the armour held close to his chest. It looked like a small, shining bundle of light, highly reflective and responsive to its surroundings.

He placed it in front of Valeria and looked up at her expectantly.

“Do you think you could wear this?”

She eyed it. The armour before her was made for a girl. As Graves held it up, letting Valeria get a better idea of its size, she realised that it was far too short for her and also, there was seldom any room for her bust.

“This is for a child. I’m a grown woman.”

She looked at him with a disapproving face, relishing in the way Phillip sighed.

“How do we get this hepta-plate on her-”

Click!

In his sure grip, Graves had accidentally removed a group of plates from the chest piece. He slowly turned around to face the group, dreading to ask if he had just broken their ticket to getting Valeria into the base undetected. Underneath that helmet, Phillip Graves’s face was contorting into various emotions, his stomach dropping and eyes squeezing shut.

However, to his surprise, his action had warranted a few chuckles from the group. With caution, he cracked open an eye to see what was going on.

“Ah, I forgot the backup ones could do that!” 7152 remarked as he cupped his masked face in his hand.

“Wait, so I haven’t broken this?” Graves queried, holding up the separated parts.

“Well, can they still camouflage?”

“How do I get it to do that?”

7152 turned around and shouted for a lamia. 72 was the first to hear the call and poked her head out of the tent. A beckoning hand gestured for her to come forward and show her packmaster how to work the shroud mechanism.

With two taps on the isolated plates, Graves’ eyebrows raised as he watched it disappear from his hand. It was a strange thing to experience, witnessing nothing there and yet feeling a weight on your palm, seeing your fingers curl over an object that seemingly never was.

“The gauntlets have adjustable straps, as do the leg pieces. And one of your helmets could probably act as a substitute for a mask I think… if… if we can attach some plates on there,” 72 mumbled.

She looked up at him with her big brown eyes expectantly.

“Go on, kid.”

Shyly, she continued.

“You can also remove some of the plates from the chest piece and put them on a vest that does fit her.”

“But that won’t completely cover her, kid. She’ll have parts of her body still visible.” 7152 was quick to point out.

“She’s a lamia,” 72 replied, “If enough of her is invisible, she can make the rest of her vanish on her own with her mind.”

Valeria felt a lump in her throat form as all eyes returned to her. It was true: she could do that. However, it would take a lot out of her, and she didn’t want to be devoting so much of herself to this mission, to the Foundation. Perhaps the little girls before her could plead her case.

“Sister…” She did her best to appeal to the lamia’s better nature. “… It’ll take a lot out of me. I’ve not practised in a long time unlike yourself.”

72 nodded and thought.

“Maybe then I or 23 should-”

“No.”

Graves was quick to dismiss her suggestion. His interruption hit hard with the weight and finality of a judge’s gavel.

“Sir, you didn’t even let me finish-”

“The Foundation wants Valeria to specifically deliver the package. Not you. You and 23 are to remain here, out of sight.”

“But we’re here to help!”

“Help by staying away for the time being.”

Phillip’s voice was stern and for some reason, that pissed 72 off. The Arcadian Son was being particularly frosty this morning; a contrast to the open, kind man she had conversed with last night. She supposed she had expected better of him.

72 rolled her eyes as she watched him turn his back on her.

“Sheesh! It’s not like you’re our dad! We don’t need to be-”

“What was that?!” Phillip interrupted with a growl.

“Nothing, sir,” she sheepishly replied.

Some of the Arcadian Sons snickered, but promptly quietened down when they sensed the face of thunder Graves was pulling under his helm.  The tension in the air was palpable and everyone decided it was best to keep quiet as Phillip regained his composure and continued with the task at hand.

“Okay, so let’s get whatever pieces we can on her and whatever. Once she’s got the… package in her system. We’ll escort her as near as possible to the base. Understood?”

“Yup!”

“Yup!”

***

Valeria tugged at the strap on her arm, feeling the piece sit better on her now that it was more snug to her base layer. As she turned her wrist, to see what the armour looked like on her forearm, she couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship of the Foundation’s engineers. This was nothing like what she used to wear, although if the woman looked closely, there were echoes of her own hepta-plate within this new, more advanced style. It seemed the days of large hexagons slotting together were gone. Now, Valeria was confronted with the sleek, serpentine plates which, when isolated, did form that signature six-sided shape, but, as she saw when 72 pushed two plates together to cover her Kevlar vest, vanished to form one seamless, unified structure.

The armour shined, looking almost white in the sunlight. Beyond it, though, Valeria could see her reflection, distorted and uncanny. Between the plates, Valeria could make out a few strange dots. Dots which looked like eyes and it soon became apparent that these were the cameras that allowed the armour to see what to camouflage into. She smiled. Just like when she was a little girl.

“It suits you.”

She turned around to see 7418 approach her.

“Jaime.”

He couldn’t help but feel a shudder of revulsion at the sound of his name coming from her lips. Still, it wasn’t enough revulsion to make him completely turn away from her and so he squatted down in front of her, looking to continue this conversation.

“Sin Nombre,” 7418 spoke with a breathy, almost nervous voice, “how have you been?”

Valeria grinned.

“Why bother with pleasantries? I can tell you’re still angry with me.”

He shook his head and then turned to 72.

“You’re dismissed, girl. Go to your tent.”

She nodded and left them.

7418 did his best to contain himself, knowing full well that giving into his anger would only grant her satisfaction. Valeria was a tricky one. The woman was good at hiding her fear under that false mask of recklessness. Never had he met someone who so easily turn the tables on a person, make their vile fury her power. She thrived off of making men angry, so that she could use it against them. Or so it seemed, because, at the end of the day, Valeria’s whole personality was a performance.

7418 had been Jaime once, and Jaime had seen what Valeria truly did with all the anger and hatred that she supposedly fuelled her confidence with. Valeria Garza wasn’t a careless brat; she was a silent crier.

A gentle hand reached for one of his locs, twisting her finger around it. She remembered when he used to adorn them with jewellery, along with his fingers; his hands would always feel heavy, big rings resting on each and every finger.

“Anger doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel towards you.”

Those words hit hard.

“Jaime… I know it’s been a long time coming, but if it’s any consolation… I deeply regret giving you to them. I should have buried you. You were one of my best.”

He stared at her, trying to see if there was any sincerity to that.

Valeria looked into that black void of a mask and hoped that under it, his face was softening. She watched his shoulders relax, the tension leaving him. The Arcadian Son slouched a little, letting out a small sigh. Her eyes were as wide and expressive as ever. Her heart was in her mouth, her thoughts racing around, all wondering what he was going to do with what she had just said.

The drug lord had to admit, it was no apology.

And hence, 7418 struck her, right across the face.

She didn’t even have time to yelp, the sheer force of the hit was enough to shake her sense of balance. Valeria fell to the ground, tasting blood in the back of her throat.

23 watched from across the camp, through a small slit she had made for herself by slightly unzipping the tent’s flap. The girl waited, eyes fixed on the scene before her. She flinched as she watched 7418 deal his blow, wincing as Valeria’s body landed with a thud.  A shiver of fear ran through 23’s body like a brief shock of electricity. She decided it was best to remain in the tent.

Phillip was quick to turn in the direction of this sudden commotion.

7418 stood above her, a looming golem, chest rising and falling rapidly. He was thinking about what to do, whether to leave her, limp on the ground, or kick her in the ribs, for a sense of finality. 7418 bit down on his anger, wanting to feel satisfied. She was here and she was at the behest of the Foundation, at the behest of him and yet, as he stood over her, he felt painfully empty. He wanted to feel like he had gotten one over her and proved to her that he was what happened when you got drunk on power. 7418 wanted to be something to Valeria. 

Pfft. Valeria couldn’t help but smile through her bleeding lips. Get. In. Fucking. Line.

As he saw the corners of her lips pull into an unashamed grin, 7418 snarled. He raised his leg, drew it back and swung-

There was this deafening roar.

Graves charged at him, pinning him to the bark of a tree. A scattering of branches came falling down as the trunk shuddered, empathising with the wheeze that escape 7418’s mouth, the wind getting knocked out of him. The other Arcadian Sons backed up a little, rising onto their feet. They didn’t dare take their eyes off the exchange happening between them.

“What the fuck are you thinking?!” Graves yelled.

“That cunt doesn’t know her fucking place!”

“No, you don’t know your place! You can’t just hit her!”

“She’s our prisoner, I can do whatever I-”

Phillip snarled.

“Okay! Okay!”

7418 raised his hands, before briefly losing his balance as Phillip dug his clawed gloves into the fabric crevices in the other’s armour.

He lowered his head, making himself as physically small as possible. Something akin to a dog’s whine, though a lot raspier, escaped him as he tried to find a place to rest himself, slipping against the bark of the tree he was practically propped up against.

“It won’t happen again, sir.”

“Speak up!” Phillip barked.

“It won’t happen again, sir!”

He let 7418 go, sighing and shaking his head as the man staggered a little to regain his footing.

“Jesus Christ…” the man soughed before raising his voice once more, “She’s the asset! She’s a fucking pain in the arse but she’s also part of this whole operation! Restrain yourself, soldier!”

There was evident irony here and it was found in Phillip’s voice as he instructed his fellow Arcadian Son to rein it in. His voice for a brief moment was unrecognisable, sounding almost mechanical, like a bellowing roar from a big cat.

“And I pegged you for the diplomatic type,” Graves added as he exhaled.

7418 scoffed.

“Diplomatic?! Sir, I was a sicario. And now, I’m an Arcadian Son.”

Phillip watched the man slink past him, metaphorical tail between his legs.

Valeria looked up at Phillip, blood running down from her nose. He knelt down before her.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Good. Stay that way and stop pissin’ these guys off. I don’t need this to be harder than it already is.”

Valeria smiled resignedly as she watched him leave her side and go gather the rest of her things, seething with long-fermented rage.

***

You could still picture it in your head, you and a group of maybe a dozen girls, maybe more, sitting inside a dark metal container. The door swung open and someone who was supposed to be your ‘knight in shining armour’ stood at the entryway. Like an obelisk sent from above, he planted himself firmly between you and the outside world, casting a dark shadow over you all.

The screams of little girls echoed throughout the place, as you were herded like cattle, along the asphalt pasture into their planes.

You don’t know how they’d found you, but, now that you thought about it, they may have staged this whole thing. Nevertheless, back then, you thought you were being saved by the special forces or something.

A lone cuddly toy sat on the ground, soaking in a puddle, its scraggly fur becoming matted with mud. You had cried out for your little friend, reaching for him as strong arms ushered you towards a ramp.

Luckily for you, that man, the one who had opened the door, picked up your toy wolf and handed him to you. He cupped your face in his big, gloved hands; the metal talons which tipped his fingers scraped at your skin. His blank mask, from which two canisters of red liquid protruded forth, was all you could see.

A small whimper left your lips, and he hushed you, bringing you to his chest, and gently swaying you side to side.

How easily he could manipulate your body, picking you up like you weighed nothing and cradling you in his arms as he took you onto the plane. You had sat on his lap for the entire journey, falling asleep, drugged by the lullaby that was his voice. Or perhaps something else. Maybe he had taken hold of your mind. Who knows…

***

He looked at you, eyes reflecting the dim lights of flickering ceiling lamps. Bathed in cool colours, akin to silver moonlight, you felt a shiver running through your body as he placed his rook in front of your pawn; an imminent threat that you would now have to think about, should he choose to have the little castle march onward on his next turn and add your soldier to the growing pile of bodies on his side of the board.

You swallowed hard and thought. His king remained stoic next to his queen, unfazed by your nearing army, seeing as his knights, pawns and bishops were destroying your forces. Such was the price you had to pay for every blunder you made.

"Oh, pup," the man across from you chuckled, "had I known this was your first game, I wouldn't have made this so hard for you."

You grumbled, brow furrowing.

He looked down at the board and then back at you. There was a glint in his eye as if he was trying to tell you something. His gaze directed you to a lonely pawn he had, which was ripe for your bishop's taking.

Reluctantly, accepting his aid, you moved to take it, your resentment growing as he took your hand and guided you to the pawn, practically handing it to you.

"There you go," he encouraged, "A kill to your name."

He sighed as you looked down, face tinted with the signature shadow of melancholy. Though he bore a mask, an elaborate, almost medieval-looking one at that, you could tell he was frowning.

"What's wrong, little one?"

You pulled your lips into a thin line, unsure if you should-

"Speak."

His voice echoed throughout the empty lounge, the rumble of his inner beast shaking your chest. You sat bolt upright, eyes wide and alert, deserting their heavy-lidded sadness, realising your emotions were dampening his mood.

"I'm sorry, sir. I-"

"What? Please, don't tell me you're crying over a game of chess."

He rolled his eyes.

"No!"

He looked back at you.

"I mean..." You cleared your throat. "I mean, no, sir. It's not about chess."

"Then, what, pup? What's making you so sad? It's not pleasant to see you like this."

The way he spoke had a terrible knack for cutting into you, like a well-sharpened knife through flesh. His Russian accent was strong and sometimes you found it had rubbed a little off on you, which you supposed was inevitable, seeing as he had brought you up.

"I don't know. I guess I'm just a little... erm..."

You had to choose your words carefully, the last thing you wanted to do was offend him.

"... I hadn't seen you like that before."

"Ah."

He was quick to realise what you were talking about.

"Most of my lamias do tend to be surprised when they witness me change for the first time. I make for a fearsome Arcadian Son. But I didn't attack you, did I?"

"No, sir."

"So why is it affecting you so much?"

You shrugged.

"I guess I was just scared."

He laughed. It was quiet, contained but aggravatingly condescending.

"You only need to be scared if you're my enemy. Are you my enemy?"

"No."

"Exactly. You're my lamia. I raised you as my own, you have nothing to fear should you remain at my side."

"Has a lamia ever betrayed you?"

He scoffed.

"Has a lamia ever betrayed me?! I am well into my hundreds now, pup, think about how many lamias I've raised in the time I've been with the Foundation. There are always defects."

"I see."

"And most of those defects found their end here."

He pointed to the lower half of his masked face, where its metal lips were.

"In my teeth."

***

You looked to your left and saw Ghost, staring off into the forest, waiting for you to continue. A small, sad smile crept onto your face. From sitting across one masked man to now sitting beside another, fate seemed to have found a recurring image and had now stuck with it. Nevertheless, you supposed you should appreciate the fact that Ghost hadn’t attacked you yet.

Yet.

Why were you anticipating the worst of him?

Damn. You were a terrible human being.

Well, in fairness, his job did require him to kill.

He looked back at you, sensing your eyes were on him and you were quick to avert your gaze, taking some feigned interest in a bird that was pecking at the soil. Your heart skipped a beat or two, your body painfully aware of his presence. You sighed, drawing your knees up to your chest. The desire to give your brain a factory reset was becoming a desperate need, clawing away at your insides.

“You were talking about your training…” he mumbled, hoping that maybe a prompt will get you back to talking, rescuing him from this painful silence you had cast upon both of you.

“Hmm?”

You turned to face him, his voice snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Training?”

“Ah, right. Yeah. Trained with professional soldiers who were much more experienced than myself and hardly held back. Um… Then, I was put into what we call ‘packs’, task forces, you know?”

“Mhm.”

“The men who were part of our packs were hardly kind. I think… I think there was a culture among them, a contest to see who could be the absolute worst human possible. It was like…” You scratched your chin as you tried to find the words. “… It was like they defined themselves by their capacity to inflict violence.”

Ghost couldn’t help but let out a heavy sigh through his nose. He looked down at the ground, his mind racing with questions and guilty accusations. That culture wasn’t unique to where you were from. That culture was everywhere and, as reluctant as he was to admit it, he knew he had partaken in that culture in some form. Then again, he was sure every guy had. He wondered if it was some unwritten rite of passage that you’d have to be violent in some capacity to put someone in their place. Violence was everywhere, especially in his life. His job pretty much boiled down to being violent.

Which was why he felt incredibly uncomfortable as you continued to speak about those godawful men.

“They liked making you feel small in any capacity. Even when they weren’t wanting to hurt you. My… overseer was very much like that. I sometimes questioned if he actually loved me like he said he did or if I was just a thing to him. Just another lamia to add to his collection.”

Like that growing pile of chess pieces on his side of the board.

“Overseer?” Ghost asked, hoping that redirecting the conversation to this man whom, he prayed you’d shit on to no end, would enable him to escape his own mental self-flagellation.

“Yeah, he was the man who I thought was special forces, remember? He raised me. I wouldn’t say he was a father to me per se, but he was close to that. He was terrifying.”

“How? I-If you don’t mind me asking.”

You smiled, something in you buzzing with delight in the way Ghost had checked if you were okay with answering.

“He was… hmm… this sounds crazy, but he was like royalty, a very powerful man. He was clever and experienced, and he knew how to make you like him because he pretended to respect you. However, if you pissed him off, or hit a particular nerve, he would be quick to remind you who he really was.”

“A dick pretty much.”

You chuckled.

“He was more than a dick, Ghost. He was a monster who hid it well, or maybe he didn’t, maybe he just desensitised us to his actual personality… I don’t know. Still, he was a terrible human being and I hate him.”

He chuckled, chuckled like he knew something… like he could relate. You looked up at him, anticipating elaboration, but either Ghost didn’t pick up on your curiosity or refused to acknowledge it.

Instead of giving in to that puppy-like nosiness you had on display pertaining to his remark, Ghost decided to question you some more.

“What exactly made you like a lamia? And… um, can I ask if the male soldiers were special in any way? Can I ask more about them?”

“Oh, well, for me I got a blood transfusion. They found a match and gave me a special type of blood that made me like the way I am. As for the men…”

Now, did you want to go into every itty-bitty detail about Arcadian Sons? Ghost could believe what you had to say about lamia abilities because he had witnessed them and, you supposed, they weren’t too far from being somewhat plausible… at least the superior strength you displayed, which you could argue was in the realm of possibility for the average human imagination. As for shapeshifting, bloodsucking monsters, well, you didn’t want Ghost to think you were making up tall tales.

Keep it tactical. Keep it minimal.

“… The men weren’t like us at all. Well, they were strong. Incredibly strong. Bought, though. They weren’t found and taken from a young age like us.”

“I see…”

Yup. You nodded to yourself. Love that for the Arcadian Sons… those heartless bastards. You wondered if you could ever take one on in a fight. That would be something!

“Now you’re out, Y/N. How do you feel?” he asked.

“Like shit. I want to feel good because look at me, I made it out but… I know the Foundation will be after me and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get over what happened to me while I was there.”

“You may never get over it, Y/N. But that doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong.”

You cocked your head to one side, brow furrowing.

“It’s okay to not entirely recover but it doesn’t mean you’re broken.”

“I wonder if this was meant to happen if it’s…” You felt the tears coming back, your eyes tingling. “…given me character or something.”

Ghost laughed.

“Y/N, trauma doesn’t equate to character and let no one tell you otherwise. You’re not meant to go through pain, and it’s not meant to be character-building. Trust me, I know.”

You do?

Should you ask that aloud?

You felt your heart kick up a notch. You didn’t want to upset him, especially as you felt you had just recovered from nearly making him hate you with you barging in on him showering and then proceeding to threaten his manhood with a swift kick to the balls during that round of sparring.

Hmm.

“I just had a rough upbringing, Y/N. That’s all.”

The way he had said it sounded laboured like you had been pestering him for a while about it. You hadn’t though, you knew you hadn’t. Maybe you just had that look on your face. Nevertheless, you decided it was best to leave it at that.

“Oh… right.”

You gave a polite smile and awkwardly looked to the ground, unsure of how to continue this conversation.

He sighed and decided to make his body language more open, hoping that would prevent you from looking too sad. Swivelling round to face you more and making sure he looked as amicable as he could with that threatening skull of a mask, Ghost made an effort to speak with a gentler voice in the hopes you wouldn’t retreat into your shell.

“Do you want to talk more? You feeling better?”

You nodded.

“I do feel better, thanks. But, I mean, I could probably fill books with how much I want to talk about my time in the Foundation. About everything… It’s tiring though.”

As if on cue, you stretched your arms upwards and let out a great yawn.

“Bringing up baggage is tiring, but while you’re here, feel free to come and-”

He paused, watching you suddenly get up from your seat and lower yourself so that you were close to the ground. You took a few steps towards something amidst the soil, moving in a catlike manner: stopping, crouching, and then continuing to creep closer.

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

“Shhh!”

“Y/N-”

Ghost would have the strangest shock of his life as you turned around and gave him an irritated hiss, only to then place a hand over your mouth, looking surprised yourself.

“Sorry! It’s a lamia habit of mine!”

He just looked at you. His eyes weren’t wide, but you could definitely tell he was taken aback. Much to your relief, he began to laugh.

“Laswell doesn’t hiss!”

“Does she not?”

The fact that was a genuine question only made Ghost’s confused laughter grow.

“No! She doesn’t?!”

“Weird,” you remarked, returning your attention to whatever you were investigating in the grass.

He rose from his seat, heading towards you.

“Weird? It’s weird not to hiss? Y/N, you really are full of-”

You raised your hand, causing him to stop in his tracks. Looking over your shoulder, Ghost squatted down beside you and beheld a… footprint?

He tilted his head to one side and reached forward to get a better look, only for you to bat his hand away.

“Y/N!” he scolded.

“You’ll damage it!”

“It’s a footprint. There’s plenty of ‘em around.”

“This one’s special.”

Was it? Ghost grimaced under his mask as he watched you lean in. The last thing he wanted to see was you sniffing at this like some tracking dog, which, luckily you didn’t do. Instead, you stroked your chin, examining every little detail on the imprint on the soil. It looked like it belonged to a standard combat boot, and you were sure you might find a few footprints around the base that would match this one.

You had a hunch that someone had just entered the Vaqueros’ base who wasn’t supposed to be there. Your pupils had dilated, eyes darting about, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end as you scoured for any other sign which confirmed your theory. Ghost watched you, both fascinated and also concerned, wondering if he should intervene.

“This doesn’t belong to someone we know,” you stated, rising to your feet and pointing at the footprint with an accusatory hand.

“Easy. It’s a footprint.”

Like the final gong of a church bell, you felt a sudden shift in your emotional state. Mild indignation set alight from old embers.

Easy. It’s a footprint. EaSy. It’S a FoOtPriNt.

It was how he said it: as if he knew better. However, Ghost didn’t know better, you did. He didn’t have your supernatural affinity for premonition, he wasn’t able to detect the slight change in the aura of the base behind you. Something told you that another mind had joined the collection of the ones you recognised. You began to grind your teeth together, instinct screaming from the back of your mind that you were going to be in trouble if you didn’t act.

“You’re no lamia, Ghost. You wouldn’t understand. I need to find Kate.”

You brushed past him, massaging your temples as you made your way back into the base.

Ghost’s shoulders slumped a little as he watched you disappear into the distance. Then, he turned around, hearing something amidst the bushes just yonder.

***

You let out a heavy sigh, head dropping downwards as Kate placed a hand on your shoulder.

“I can’t sense anything, Y/N. I think you’re just a little rattled, which is understandable. Sometimes anxieties can flare up suddenly.”

You weren’t having her patronise you again and the bubbling anger slowly making itself known on your face told Kate that perhaps she should choose her next words carefully. She did so, gently removing her hand from you and looking you in the eye.

“If it’s any assurance, my contact said that you’ll be good to go within two days. Two more days and you’ll be on your way to proper freedom.”

“Two days of sitting idly by while the Foundation gets clos- AHHHH!” you said before your voice crescendo-ed into a loud groan.

You clutched your head, losing your balance. Laswell caught you in her arms, hushing you as you whimpered, your mind soaring with a strange pain. It was like a high-pitched sound, ringing inside your skull, a blaring siren telling you that something was terribly wrong. You gripped onto her tightly, doing your best to sort through the howling voices in your mind and find one which spoke reason. Except, the more you fixated on the feeling, the worse it grew.

That footprint. That blasted footprint!

You tried to picture it in your head, hoping there was a clue within the image of the memory.

“Steady, Y/N.”

Kate had you rest some of your weight onto her and helped you hobble into the barracks.

As soon as Gaz saw the sight of you barely being able to stand on your feet, even with the aid of Kate, he rose up and made his way to you.

“Are they okay?” Gaz asked, helping Kate ease you onto a bed.

“I think they’re just a bit overstimulated. Happens sometimes. There’s a lot of people in this base,” Kate explained, feeling your forehead.

Your temperature was fine, despite your slightly feverish behaviour. You turned around and buried your face into your pillow, trying to focus on the distant echo of that foreign soul, praying that the redirection of your attention would be enough to drown out the cacophony wreaking havoc within your head.

“Someone’s in this base…”

“Y/N…”

“Someone is in this base!” you shouted, despite your voice being muffled by the pillow.

“What do they mean by that?” Gaz asked.

Kate let out an exasperated sigh, “They think someone’s here that’s not meant to be here but that’s… impossible.”

“What if they’re right?”

“I would know too.”

Kate, you’re out of practice. I’m fresh out of the Foundation. My senses are much better than yours.

You wouldn’t say it aloud, for fear of causing offence but despite that, you stuck to your guns. She may not have been convinced but you knew better.

Even if it may eventually be to your detriment, you were not sleeping tonight.

***

Ghost turned the faucet and flinched a little as a shock of cold water splashed him square in the face. He ran his hands through his wet hair, adjusting to the warming temperature, and a content sigh escaped his lips. While he lathered up some soap in his hands, he thought about you.

As he had walked past the barracks, he had seen you on your bed, lying on your back and staring up at the ceiling. You had your hands on your belly as you idly chewed on the inside of your cheek. It looked like you had calmed down from your little panic over the footprint, although he could still tell, even at the distance he was at, that something was bothering you. Your chest rose and fell quickly, your eyes wide and alert. Though he was careful to not catch your attention, he had a feeling you knew he was there, or at least nearby. Going from zero to a hundred like that, he wondered how you could cope with it, and he hoped it wasn’t a habit of yours. All from a fucking footprint. Yes, you probably could sense something with your… lamia-ness, but he had overheard Kate say something about overstimulation and upon hearing that, all the pieces fit together.

You probably weren’t used to being in an army base with all of them, all of these new people, and that only added to the pile you already had on your plate.

A pang of guilt struck him as he washed off the soap from his body.

Maybe he had been too dismissive. He could tell you had gotten annoyed by him trying to calm you down before you spiralled but he was just doing what he thought best.  You were skittish, easy to agitate, and you needed to be settled down before you’d go off on one. Right? He was helping you!

Well, he thought he was.

The steam made the air in the bathroom heavy… or maybe it was just him?

He didn’t know why, but, all of a sudden, he was feeling a little claustrophobic. Ghost shrunk away a little, almost hiding under the water, wondering if your bout of paranoia had rubbed off on him.

Eventually, the lieutenant finished up his shower, got dressed and was brushing his teeth over the sink. Briefly, he looked up at the mirror.

A shiver, like none he had ever felt ran through him.

Primal fear, triggered by pure incomprehension, made his skin grow clammy and his heart speed up.

Before his very eyes, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley watched a handprint form on the foggy mirror. A disembodied handprint.

Quickly, he turned around, only to see nothing.

Something gently touched his neck.

Breath.

Ghost took the toothbrush out of his mouth and set it on the porcelain sink. Then, he searched around the empty bathroom, albeit a little frantically. He peered around the corner to see if anyone was in the shower unit.

If someone was playing a little prank, he was going to hunt that person down and give them more than an earful on how that was a stupid thing to do.

However, it would turn out to be empty.

Returning to the sink, he let out a sigh.

Jesus, Simon. Get a hold of yourself.

Resting his hands on the edges of the sink, he looked back up at the mirror. The handprint was still there, and in the patches of clarity that made up the palm, where the fogginess had been removed, Ghost spotted that the lock on the door had been undone.

But didn’t he… He could have sworn…

He returned to the barracks, towels and soaps in hand, making his way to his rucksack. As he knelt down before his bed, he looked to his side and caught your eye. You gave a polite smile, before rolling onto your side, turning away from him.

“You alright?” he asked as he packed his stuff away.

“I think I should be asking you that question. You seem rattled,” you replied, your voice monotone.

He looked back up at you, brows knitted together.

“Are you… Are you doing your ‘lamia’ thing?”

“Someone was in the bathroom, weren’t they?”

“Please, don’t fuel my paranoia,” Ghost said, getting up and heading elsewhere to find Soap and maybe a box of raisins.