#this is heavier than i usually get in these posts but i came away from the doctor slump show thinking about a lot of stuff from my own life

[lynne-monstr]

hi blog, it's friday! having a bit of an admin day at work, which is both a little relaxing (can't get pulled in to too many meetings because i am shifting everything to a new computer) but also annoying (I have to set up everything again ughhh)

last night i started watching doctor slump, which is really cute and i loved the first 2 episodes so far. thought tbh i could do without the flashbacks as i don't really think they are necessary to the story.

but oof i got punched in the face by that show. because of the bit about, yeah you can grow up as an exceptional student and you think you're going to become an exceptional adult. but the real world doesn't work by giving tests and grades.

i remember the first time i realized in school that at the end of the semester, some people went to the professor to negotiate their final grade. and i remember kind of looking down on that because I always did well on my exams and assignments. but the joke's on me because that's how the world works. people don't just give you things when you do a good job, you have to demand it and fight for it or you're stuck getting 0.5% raises for the rest of your life.

anyway, that got away from me. don't get me started on my half-assed theory that a lot of "gifted kid syndrome" is really the culture shock of discovering that the things that made you successful in school, the things you were valued and praised for, only partially apply in real life.

on the fandom front, I'm still picking away at this fic i'm revamping from a tumblr ramble! if i don't get caught in an editing spiral, maybe i'll post it this weekend!

I hope everyone has a good day!

[wandanatsub]

Hugs and Body Heat

Agatha All Along Week - Day 4 - Hurt/Comfort

Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You come home after a grueling day at work and need comfort. Agatha is happy to provide. Honorable mentions to Rio who cooks dinner.

Tags: fluff, mentions of choking, pet names for reader, a lot of cuddling, they/them pronouns used for reader (once)

Words: 2k

First time posting on tumblr. Agatha and Rio might be my new favorite MCU characters! AAA week had perfect timing as I wrote this during election night but only posted it to AO3 a few days ago

Key in lock. Key in lock. It wasn’t that difficult.

You finally managed to jam your key into the door. The door pushed open, and you almost fell through it. Getting the key out should have been easier than getting it in, but nothing about this day had been easy.

You closed the door behind you. Your bag slipped off your arms to the ground and your keys should’ve landed on the little side table by the door but fell to the floor. Shoes came off on your way through the hall to the living room. You pulled off your jacket when you stepped through the door. The last bits of energy left you the instant being home sank into your consciousness. Agatha sitting on the couch registered in the back of your brain on the way down to the floor.

You sank onto the hardwood floors and let out a deep, deep sigh.

You weren’t necessarily looking for a reaction, you were waiting for the stress to leave your body. There should be a scientific correlation between stress reduction and lying on the ground.

It took you a few minutes to figure that today lying face down on the ground wasn’t going to cut it. Another deep sigh and you pressed yourself up from the floor. You used the last vestiges of your energy supply to crawl over to the couch. Your body felt heavier than usual, pulling you down to the floor, making every inch gain a battle against gravity.

You finally made it to the edge of the couch. Getting up on the couch seemed impossible. Getting Agatha away from her book even more so.

You pulled yourself along a bit further and then half fell over to sink against the couch, or more importantly, against Agatha’s legs. Your head settled against her knees, making sure that you wouldn’t fall over when all the tension left your body.

Breathing. You could do that easily. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe o–

Your breath faltered for a moment, feeling Agatha’s fingers slowly carding through your hair.

Breathe out. Breathe in. Repeat.

You could do this. Agatha was softly stroking your hair. A soft tingling spread over your head down to your shoulders and slowly helped settle the exhausted roar in your body.

Work had been a bitch today. Everyone expected you to help with their problems, not caring about the work you had to finish today. Working Saturdays was not worth the little extra pay it offered.

But you were home now. No more work. Only breathing. Feeling Agatha’s body heat warming your side and breathing. You tried to sync your breathing to Agatha’s hand. Stroking up from your neck and carding through your hair then softly caressing the edge of your forehead. The hand pulled back to your neck. Always moving slowly, stroking softly. Bit by bit lulling you to sleep without you even noticing it.

Suddenly you jerked awake. You couldn’t have been out for more than a few seconds. Groaning you let your head fall back against the couch. No rest for the terminally exhausted apparently.

Agatha’s hand had wandered to the side of your face, coming around your throat to pull up your chin.

“Up, pet.”

The words found you, loud and clear, even though you felt they were said to her book rather than in your direction. Agatha’s hand left your throat, expecting you to follow her order without lending a heavy hand.

You turned your head to look up at her. She was still engrossed in her book.

The few minutes of calm had recharged you enough to push off the ground and pull yourself up onto the couch.

Her arms opened as soon as you were level with her, one hand still holding onto her book. Agatha’s concentration never broke but her invitation was clear.

Heat spread onto your cheeks, but you didn’t keep her waiting, knowing the invitation to be temporary when she was busy reading. You swung your leg over her lap and planted yourself down, feeling her arms come around you immediately.

This was definitely better than lying on the ground. Your legs encased Agatha’s, stomach and chest meeting their warm opposites, arms rounding her neck while your head came to rest on her shoulder.

You breathed in deeply, finding comfort in Agatha’s scent, letting your lips briefly wander over her neck, seeking intimacy without starting something you didn’t have the energy to finish.

You settled down when Agatha’s hand returned to your head and the calm returned.

Soft strokes of her fingertips, the sound of pages being turned and the rhythmic rise and fall of her warm body underneath you soothed you enough to fall asleep.

A door closed somewhere far away, and your ears picked up the sound without awakening you completely. Agatha’s hand had wandered down to your back at some point and was brushing up and down your spine at odd intervals, soothing you back into unconsciousness.

Unbeknownst to you, the person coming through the door into the living room was fixed with a glare from your human body pillow.

Rio was known for her silent existence, though her footsteps fell heavy, announcing her imminent arrival. A glare from Agatha made her stop in her tracks.

"That kind of day?" She asked and Agatha nodded while stroking your back. Her eyes moved back to her book, not interested in diverting her attention even more.

Rio walked over to the back of the couch, taking care to soften her walk. She bent down, pausing to listen for your steady breaths and pressed a kiss to the back of your head, before grasping her wife’s chin to pull her away from her book.

The kiss is soft but forceful at the same time, a very persistent quality for Rio’s kisses.

"You know we should do something about their shitty boss. What's the use of a pet if they’re always tired?"

Agatha, wanting to return to her book merely grunted her agreement and continued to stroke your back. She might seem cold and uninterested at times, but Rio knew better.

Agatha wasn’t the type of person to ask you what you needed. That didn’t mean she didn’t care. Agatha spent hours and hours watching the people around her, learning their habits, and figuring out how they ticked. Calculating and implementing what she could provide, comparing your reactions, and choosing the most effective outcome. Depending on your mood, the most effective outcome wasn’t always what you thought you needed, but you had learned to trust Agatha and her methods of calming you down. Or riling you up. Depending on her mood.

But she knew when you came home exhausted, barely getting past the door, you didn’t need words or big gestures. You needed calm, preferably paired with body heat. Agatha had sat down on the couch with her book only a few minutes before you had come home, awaiting your arrival.

It wasn’t the first time you had come home only to crash to the floor. Agatha had learned to let you go through your progress. The phases didn’t always take the same time. Once you had fallen asleep on the kitchen floor, only crawling over to her after more than an hour.

But you would always end up cuddled into Agatha. Your head in her lap, sitting next to her with your head on her chest, or her favorite, sitting in her lap, breathing syncing with hers.

Rio knew all that, trusted Agatha’s instinct, and felt ecstatic when you crawled into her lap if she sat down next to Agatha when she came home.

Another kiss was pressed to your hair. Then Rio went into the kitchen to prepare dinner.

A while later Rio patted back into the living room, kneeling next to your still sleeping form. Her hand brushed her wife’s at the bottom of your spine and stroked up your back to card through the little hairs on your neck. You let out a deep sigh, not waking up fully but your body noticed the added touch.

Her hand ghosted down your neck to find purchase on your shoulder, kneading into the still-tensed muscles. A sigh turned into a deep groan, pulling you out of your dreamless nap.

"Hungry, mi amor?"

You unconsciously leaned into the pressure from Rio’s hands, your body immediately recognizing her touch.

"Mhmmm?" Your eyes still closed, your lips still in contact with Agatha’s neck, you slowly come to.

There was a hand softly stroking your lower back, right where your shirt had ridden up, and a different set of hands digging into your sore shoulder muscles. A great way to wake from a nap after a day in hell.

The only reaction the two women got from you was a drawn-out groan and an apparent lack of further movement.

"Hungry?"

This time the question was posed to both occupants of the couch, and Agatha nodded for the both of you, knowing food always improved your mood if only you were awake enough not to choke on it. Choking you was her job.

A kiss was pressed to your head and the hands on your shoulders left you.

"Want to get up, sweetheart?"

The words went against everything your brain was currently demanding, and you reacted in the most petulant way, strengthening your grip around Agatha and quietly whining into her skin.

"Rio cooked for us, pet, the least we could do is join her at the table."

"Can't we eat on the couch?" The first words you had spoken since you came home tickled Agatha’s neck.

Something in your voice made Agatha give in and she called out to Rio to bring the food to the living room.

There was still the problem of extracting yourself from the warm embrace you had burrowed yourself in, which seemed entirely too much for your still hazy brain.

Agatha’s hands went to your sides, trying to push you back a little, but your arms tightened their grip around her torso exponentially.

A chuckle could be heard. Rio was watching the drama unfold in real time and formed a plan to get your energy back enough to pull you out of your burrow.

She bent down, setting her hands on the back of the couch, purposely brushing your arm on the way there, and found her wife’s lips. A kiss that was definitely for your benefit, though also a way to get close to Agatha after having been apart the whole day.

It quickly progressed from a simple press of lips to something more intense. Agatha’s arm pulled up to grasp her wife’s neck, boxing you in in the progress.

Being pressed between Agatha and Rio was soothing on the worst day, overstimulating on the best.

You quickly grew uninterested in staying immobile and turned your head out of Agatha’s neck to watch your mistresses kiss. You managed to pull your arm out of your now more forced embrace and brushed Rio’s cheek.

They pulled apart and Rio turned her head to brush a kiss against your hand and gave you her signature smirk.

"You awake now, mi vida?"

Your eyes sparkling in her direction were answer enough and she leaned in again to press a kiss on your lips, peaking out her tongue to brush your lower lip, starting a spark in you that helped you wake up the rest of the way.

It had always been your problem, that if you had a taste of something intoxicating, you couldn't stop. You deepened the kiss, turning towards Rio and gaining some distance from the warm body below you.

"Our pet is definitely awake now. Save some of that hunger for dinner, little one." Agatha spoke, feeling life had finally returned to you.

Rio chuckled and ended the kiss, leaving you slightly breathless.

"Dinner on the couch means dessert in bed?"

That damned smirk had you hooked from the first time you saw it.

[littlelamy]

𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓪 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂, 𝓪 𝓼𝓾𝓻𝓹𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓮

rafe x barry x reader!!

author's note: i know it’s a little early but merry christmas!🎄 and happy holidays to those who don’t celebrate christmas! ❄️ i’m so thankful for all the love i’ve received from my christmas posts this year—it truly means the world to me. i’m beyond grateful to have such kind, supportive mutuals, and so much love from each of you. thank you for being here, and for all your comments, dms, and reblogs! wishing all of you the best for the rest of the season.

it started with a text.

barry: party at mine tonight. bring that pretty ass.

you rolled your eyes when it came through—typical barry, always one step away from being inappropriate—but a smile tugged at your lips anyway. you were used to it by now, the way barry talked, the way he and rafe moved around you like wolves in a lazy orbit.

they were your friends. dangerous, maybe, but never to you.

so, you threw on a pair of jeans and a tight little sweater—something that hugged your curves, though you told yourself you weren’t dressing for them. the trailer park wasn’t exactly the place for your nicest clothes, but you still wanted to look good.

it was christmas eve, after all.

barry’s trailer was a mess of christmas chaos when you got there. lights blinked erratically from every surface, half a tree sat in the corner, and the smell of cheap beer mixed with pine-scented candles in a way that shouldn’t have worked—but somehow did.

rafe was already there, sprawled out on the couch with a beer in hand, his long legs kicked up on the coffee table like he owned the place. he glanced up when you walked in, and his lips curled into a lazy smirk.

“well, look who it is.”

“shut up,” you shot back, rolling your eyes.

rafe laughed under his breath, taking another swig from his bottle. his eyes lingered on you longer than necessary, trailing over your sweater and jeans like he was cataloging every curve.

barry appeared a second later, stepping out of the kitchen with his own beer dangling between two fingers. his grin widened when he saw you.

“there’s our girl,” he drawled, his tone syrupy-sweet. “thought you weren’t gonna show.”

“and miss this disaster of a christmas party? no way.”

barry barked out a laugh, motioning for you to sit. “c’mon, make yourself comfortable. we’ve been waitin’ for you.”

something about the way he said it—we’ve been waitin’ for you—made a shiver crawl up your spine, though you quickly pushed it away.

they were just being them.

the night started simple enough.

barry kept shoving drinks into your hand, though you only sipped at them, not wanting to get sloppy. rafe was quieter than usual, though his eyes never left you for long, the weight of his gaze always hovering just at the edge of your awareness.

the three of you sat around the couch, the music low and the lights dim. barry cracked jokes, rafe added his own snarky commentary, and you felt yourself relaxing—laughing, leaning back into the cushions, letting yourself melt into the easy comfort of their company.

but as the night stretched on, things shifted.

the silences between jokes grew longer, heavier.

barry’s gaze lingered a little too long when he handed you another drink, his fingers brushing against yours on purpose. rafe sat closer than he needed to, his arm stretched lazily behind you on the couch.

it was subtle at first—the touches, the looks, the heat slowly building between you.

you tried to ignore it.

they’re just messing with me, you thought. they always do this.

but then barry leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, and said something that made your heart stutter.

“you ever think about us?”

you blinked. “what?”

barry’s grin was lazy, dangerous. “me and rafe. you ever think about us?”

the room went still.

your pulse picked up, heart thudding hard in your chest. “what are you talking about?”

rafe shifted beside you, his fingers curling against the back of the couch. “you know what he’s talkin’ about, baby.”

baby. the word sent a jolt through you, low and warm, settling somewhere deep in your stomach.

“you’re drunk,” you said, trying to laugh it off.

“we’re not drunk,” barry replied smoothly. “we’re just done pretendin’.”

“pretending what?”

rafe’s hand dropped to your shoulder, the weight of it warm and firm as he leaned closer, his voice a low murmur in your ear.

“pretending we don’t know what you want.”

your breath caught.

what i want?

barry’s grin widened when he saw the way you froze, his gaze dropping to the rise and fall of your chest.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a slow drawl. “we’ve seen the way you look at us. the way you squirm when we get close.”

“i don’t—”

“don’t lie to us,” rafe cut in, his hand sliding down to rest on your thigh.

your skin burned beneath his touch, even through the denim of your jeans.

“we’ve been real patient,” barry said, his tone still teasing but laced with something darker—something dangerous.“waitin’ for you to figure it out on your own. but we’re done waitin’.”

you swallowed hard, your heart racing as you looked between them.

they’re messing with me, you thought again. they have to be.

but the heat in their eyes said otherwise.

rafe’s hand squeezed your thigh gently—just enough to make you feel it.

“you trust us, don’t you?” he asked softly.

the question hung heavy in the air, and you hated how quickly your resolve cracked. because the truth was—you did trust them.

you didn’t know when it had happened, or how, but somewhere along the way, barry and rafe had become your safe place. your friends. your boys.

and now they were looking at you like they wanted to devour you whole.

barry leaned back against the couch, spreading his legs wide as he ran a hand over his jaw, watching you carefully.

“so what’s it gonna be, sweetheart?” he asked. “you gonna let us give you a christmas to remember?”

you hesitated, your breath catching in your throat.

rafe’s thumb brushed slow circles against your thigh, his voice dropping to a murmur.

“say yes, baby. just say yes.”

you couldn’t breathe.

the weight of their words, the intensity of their eyes—it was too much.

“this isn’t funny,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction.

barry chuckled, low and dark, the sound rumbling in his chest like thunder. “who said we were laughin’, sweetheart?”

rafe’s hand on your thigh stayed steady, warm and possessive, like he was claiming you piece by piece. he leaned in closer, his breath fanning against your ear.

“we’re serious, baby. dead serious.”

your heart raced, and you felt like you were sinking—like you were being pulled into something you weren’t sure you could get out of. but the worst part? you didn’t want to stop it.

not really.

you glanced between them—barry, with his sharp grin and predatory gaze, and rafe, with his lazy confidence and quiet intensity. they were so different, yet so alike in the way they looked at you, like you were theirs.

“what do you want from me?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

barry tilted his head, his grin softening into something almost sweet.

“we want you to stop fightin’ it,” he said. “stop pretendin’ you don’t want this.”

“and what is this, exactly?”

rafe’s fingers slid higher on your thigh, his touch light but deliberate, sending heat pooling low in your stomach.

“this,” he murmured. “us. you. everything we’ve been waiting for.”

you shivered. “you’re insane.”

“maybe,” barry agreed easily, his grin returning. “but you like it, don’t you?”

you didn’t answer, because you couldn’t—not when the truth was written all over your face.

rafe leaned back slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “c’mere,” he said softly, tugging gently at your thigh.

“what—”

“c’mere, baby,” he repeated, his voice coaxing, almost gentle.

your body moved before your brain caught up, letting rafe guide you into his lap. you straddled him awkwardly, your hands bracing against his shoulders as you tried to ignore the way his body felt beneath you—strong, solid, warm.

barry whistled low, his grin sharp as he watched. “now that’s a sight.”

“shut up, barry,” you muttered, though your voice wavered.

rafe’s hands settled on your waist, his grip firm but careful, like he was holding something delicate. his eyes searched yours, softer than before—softer than you expected.

“you’re okay,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. “just trust us, yeah?”

your breath caught. you didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nodded.

rafe’s lips curled into a small smile, and then—slowly, carefully—he leaned in and kissed you.

it wasn’t what you expected.

you thought rafe cameron would kiss like he lived—reckless, wild, and dangerous. but this? this was different. it was slow and deliberate, his lips soft against yours, like he was taking his time, savoring every second.

your fingers curled into his shoulders, holding onto him as the kiss deepened. his tongue traced your bottom lip, coaxing you to open up for him, and you did—letting him in, letting him take.

barry’s voice broke through the haze, low and teasing.

“don’t forget about me, sweetheart.”

you pulled back from rafe, your lips swollen and your breath shaky as you turned to look at barry. he was still sprawled across the couch, but his grin had faded slightly, replaced by something darker—something hungry.

“get over here,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

you hesitated, glancing back at rafe, who simply smirked, his hands still resting on your waist.

“go on, baby,” he murmured. “don’t keep him waiting.”

your heart pounded as you slid off rafe’s lap, your legs unsteady as you made your way to barry. he watched you the whole time, his gaze heavy, his smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

when you reached him, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you down onto his lap in one quick motion. you gasped softly, your hands landing on his chest as you steadied yourself.

“there we go,” barry murmured, his voice low and smooth. “that’s better, ain’t it?”

you swallowed hard, your pulse racing as barry’s hands settled on your hips, his grip rougher than rafe’s.

“you look good here,” he said, his gaze dropping to your lips. “real good.”

you opened your mouth to respond—to say what, you didn’t know—but barry didn’t give you the chance.

he kissed you hard, his lips crashing against yours with none of rafe’s earlier softness. it was all teeth and tongue, rough and demanding, like he was trying to claim you right then and there.

you whimpered softly against him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he pulled you closer, his hands sliding up your back, over your sides, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

when he finally pulled back, you were breathless, your head spinning as you looked up at him.

barry grinned, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

“knew you’d taste sweet,” he said.

you barely had time to process his words before rafe was behind you, his hands sliding up your arms, over your shoulders, until he was gently pulling you back against his chest.

“see, baby?” rafe murmured in your ear, his voice low and coaxing. “this is what we’ve been waitin’ for.”

you shivered, your body caught between the two of them—the heat of rafe behind you, barry in front of you, their hands and lips and words pulling you deeper into something you couldn’t escape.

but the worst part?

you didn’t want to escape.

you were caught.

you didn’t know when or how it happened, but somewhere between rafe’s soft whispers and barry’s hungry gaze, you had fallen in too deep.

and now? now, you couldn’t seem to find a way out.

rafe’s lips pressed against your neck, his breath hot against your skin, sending a shiver through your body. he was always so controlled—so calm. but tonight? tonight, he was losing himself.

his hands slid down your body, rougher now, as if he couldn’t help himself. you felt the heat of his touch everywhere, like he was marking you with every second you spent in his arms.

“don’t fight it, baby,” rafe whispered, his voice low, almost pleading. “you want this. we both know you do.”

barry’s eyes flicked over to you, his lips curling into a smirk as he leaned back against the couch. “you’re so fucking perfect,” he murmured, almost to himself. “both of you. but especially you, sweetheart.”

you swallowed hard, your body trembling under the weight of their gazes. the air felt thick—almost suffocating—as the two of them continued their slow, deliberate assault on your senses.

“what do you want?” barry’s voice was like velvet, smooth and dangerous. “tell us, baby. tell us what you want.”

you hesitated, the words stuck in your throat. everything inside you screamed to pull away, to push them both out of your life, to regain control. but there was another part of you—the part that ached for their touch, their attention, their everything—that didn’t want to leave.

“i… i don’t know,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

rafe’s lips curled into a slow smile as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, his breath hot and needy. “we’ll help you figure it out, baby. don’t worry.”

his hands slid to the waistband of your jeans, fingers brushing lightly over the fabric, teasing and light.

barry’s eyes never left you as rafe’s fingers worked at the button. “you’re so fucking tempting,” he muttered. “can’t wait to see you bare for us.”

the words made your pulse spike, heat pooling between your legs as your breath caught in your throat.

before you could even register what was happening, rafe’s hands were slipping beneath your jeans, pulling them down, his fingers lightly grazing your skin as he exposed you piece by piece.

you gasped, feeling the vulnerability of it all—the way they were undressing you without a word, the way you were letting them.

barry pushed himself off the couch, his hands moving to your waist, spinning you around so that you were facing him now. his eyes were dark, filled with something primal as he took in your body, your exposed skin.

“you’re fucking beautiful,” he growled, leaning down to kiss you hard, his hands trailing up your thighs.

you whimpered against him, your hands grasping at his shirt, pulling him closer as you deepened the kiss. there was no control left—just raw, desperate need.

rafe’s hand slid up your back, pulling you closer to him as he kissed your shoulder. “don’t forget about me, baby,” he murmured. “we’re not done yet.”

you couldn’t remember a time when you’d felt so alive, so wanted, but at the same time, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all spiraling out of control.

but fuck, it felt good.

barry pulled away from your lips just long enough to yank your shirt over your head, leaving you in nothing but your panties. his gaze flicked down your body, and a dark, dangerous smile spread across his face.

“look at you,” he whispered, his fingers trailing down your chest, teasing your skin. “fucking perfect.”

you couldn’t even respond. your body was on fire, and all you wanted was for them to touch you, to claim you.

rafe’s hands were at your back now, undoing your bra with practiced ease. as the fabric slid away, he kissed your neck, his lips moving down to your collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

barry watched, his eyes never leaving you as rafe took his time with you, each touch slow and deliberate.

“how does it feel, baby?” barry asked, his voice low, teasing. “to have both of us wanting you? wanting to make you ours?”

the question was too much. you couldn’t think. you couldn’t speak. all you could do was feel—feel their hands on you, their lips on your skin, their voices filling your ears.

“please,” you whimpered, the word falling from your lips without thought. “please, I need—”

“need what?” rafe’s voice was a low growl, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer. “tell us, baby. what do you need?”

“you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i need you both.”

and that was all it took.

in an instant, they were both on you—hands everywhere, lips everywhere, their bodies pressing you between them as they devoured you.

you didn’t know how it happened, how things spiraled from teasing and tension into full-blown chaos, but it didn’t matter. none of it did.

all that mattered was them, and how fucking badly you wanted to be theirs.

"merry christmas to us," barry smirks, his hand grazing your bare skin as if testing just how soft you feel under his touch. his eyes flick to rafe, whose gaze is already fixed on you, heated and intent, his fingers tracing a lazy pattern along your hip like he’s memorizing every curve.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

credits to @anitalenia for the divider <3

[mykmi]

mean dom beomgyu + maybe public sex? and somnophilia (all consensual ofc). and maybe a little aftercare if you can :T

OHHHH i absolutely love meannnn beomgyu + somnophilia 😩😩😩 i'll write these two separately cause i can't imagine it at the same time with aftercare lol

ALSO thank you for all the requests!!! i'll try to do them asap, hope you all understand :,,(( it's actually my first smut post so i hope it's not cringe :/

leather miniskirt

pairing: mean dom!beomgyu x sub!afab!reader genre: smut warnings: nsfw content, afab!reader (reader has pussy), mean beomgyu (but sweet too?), public sex (kinda) (consensual), protected sex, fingering, penetration, choking (just a bit), aftercare (a little), mdni!! (if i forgot anything feel free to tell me!!) a/n: idk why but it took me longer than i thought.... i have uni and a new job so it was challenging :,) i've ruined my sleep schedule for this so i hope you enjoy!! <///3

shopping usually went by quickly as you weren't particularly picky or patient, but with autumn approaching you found yourself needing a lot of new clothes. you and your boyfriend beomgyu have spent about one hour and a half in the mall, and he was starting to get tired.

so when he saw you trying on a leather miniskirt and twirling around, asking his opinion, the only thing that came to his mind was to sneak into your fitting room right after you went back in.

“gyu?..” you whispered questioningly, not suspecting anything. but when he shut the curtain and looked at you, you knew what he was up to. his eyes were filled with lust – his gaze intense and dark that he almost seemed like a different person.

beomgyu hovers over you, as you barely reach his shoulder; you look up at him, gulping nervously as he steps closer.

“what-”

“just shut up”, he commands, crushing his lips on yours. your mind went blank in an instant: feeling his arms hugging you, pulling you to him, his plump lips kissing you with such passion, not leaving even a bit of space or time to breathe, as if to suffocate you with desire.

there was so much of hunger and pleasure in that single kiss, that quickly escalated into a makeout session as beomgyu's hands started wandering all over you, trying to find places they hadn't touched yet, grabbing your waist and ass. all you could do was to place your hands on his shoulders, kissing him back barely enough to match his energy as the air around grew hotter and hotter.

and when his fingers laid on the skin of your bare thighs under the miniskirt you didn't even have time to take off, you gasped into his lips slightly, trying to not create noise, keeping in head the place you're in.

beomgyu pushes you to the wall with his other hand, not leaving even an inch between you both. he keeps kissing you, now pushing his tongue in just as rudely, unexpected and uninvited. and as he pulls away from you, you can finally breathe in some fresh air.

“can you keep quiet?” beomgyu whispers, moving his fingers on your thigh even higher, coming closer to the heat. trying to catch your breath, you nod desperately, already too caught up in the process.

“actually, i don't really care. but if we get caught, it's gonna be your fault”, he smiles mischievously and proudly. “did you understand?”

“mhm”, you nod again, however it seems unsatisfying to beomgyu. he grabs your neck, forcing you to look him straight in the eyes.

“say it out loud”, commands again, his voice quiet and husky.

“yes”, the answer comes out as a shaky whisper, your breath still unsteady.

“good”, beomgyu smirks, his dark eyes sparkling; he enjoys the power he has when he touches you.

so, he raises your leather miniskirt, revealing a sight of your grey underwear with a dark spot on it.

“i still can't believe how wet you get just from kissing”, he lets out a small chuckle, putting his hand over your panties, rubbing you through it. your breath is uneven, the knot of heat lower the belly gets more distinct with every rub, and the chest feels heavier than ever. beomgyu's long fingers do not take much time pulling your panties to the side and finally getting to your wet pussy.

“so pretty”, he looks at it, almost drooling, but still holding himself together. “just for me, yeah?”

“yeah..” you sigh, all worked up with excitement. and when gyu finally slips his middle finger in, you can't help but moan, dangerously loud.

“do you want to get caught?” the question sounds mocking, which it most likely is. you shake your head faintly, already feeling weak all over. beomgyu's finger speeds up, brushing on your clit, creating lewd noises that are not normal to hear from a fitting room.

“then why don't you keep quiet?” he licks his lips, increasing the speed non-stop. another finger in. at this point, you can do nothing but whimper pathetically and hold onto gyu's shoulders to keep standing, feeling the stimulation on your sensitive clit.

“tell me, i wanna hear you”, whispers in your ear, leaving a slow, wet kiss on your neck.

“i-it's good..” you mumble, rolling your eyes and still whimpering silently. beomgyu grins against your skin, now going on an unbearable pace, showing you no mercy. you were now crying soundlessly, trying your best to not let out a single moan. your hands grip on your boyfriend's shoulders as he continues to finger fuck you ruthlessly.

the adrenaline rush just makes your sensations five times more vivid. the thought of getting caught and trying everything to prevent it takes a lot of energy but intensifies it at once.

beomgyu's movements are so fast and pleasing that you feel your orgasm creeping up quickly.

“g-gyuu..” you whine, closing your eyes, barely able to see stand. “i'm.. i'm close…”

“oh, really?” gyu's voice echoes, mixing with your soft moans, as you're approaching your high. but suddenly, he stops, leaving you empty and desperate.

“gyu, please..” you cry out, feeling the burning in your pussy; it aches for release. “don't… don't stop, please”

“you got a lot, don't you think?” beomgyu brings his wet fingers to your mouth, pushing them in without warning. you start to lick your own juices off it, choking slightly. “now i'm gonna have fun too. it's fair, isn't it?”

you cough, swallowing everything. gyu opens his zipper, lowers his pants down, and pulls his dick out. you weren't even looking down before, so when you see how hard he is, you're kinda shocked.

he takes the condom out of his pocket and starts putting it on his dick; glancing at your face – unfocused, tired eyes, rosy cheeks, and glistening lips.

“you're so pretty”, beomgyu whispers, pulling you into another messy kiss, holding your cheek firmly. your tongues intertwining, lips are covered in wetness and hot breath is burning on the skin of both of you. “you should stay quiet”

he brushes the tip over your pussy, sending goosebumps across your skin. it takes a lot of effort to even keep breathing and especially breathing evenly. finally, he pushes in, filling the emptiness his fingers left behind.

“oh, god, you're so hot”, your warm pussy walls tighten around beomgyu's thick dick, making it hard for him to move.

you hold onto his forearms, your legs shaking from the overstimulation; he holds your hips with a grip that will leave marks for sure; his dick is in and out, and beomgyu picks the same pace that he left on straightaway. he tries to stay quiet, but soft moans come out here and there. and you try your best to not scream your lungs out, overwhelming sensitivity takes over and fills you up. the sweat comes out on his forehead and makes his dark hair stick on it; he looks so good like this.

beomgyu pounds into you relentlessly, pulling your hips to him to match his tempo. you whine into the air, in hopes of reaching your high finally; it starts to hurt being so overstimulated.

“oh god.. you're so good”, beomgyu sighs, not slowing down. “i'm close… are you?”

you don't have the strength to speak, so you just nod with your eyes squinted.

“dick so good you can't speak, huh?” he laughs, thrusting into you faster. “oh god”

the fitting room is filled with soft, quiet moans and whines as you finally reach the end. and as you both reach your orgasm, in 10 seconds, you let a single loud moan out and lose all the energy, going limp; beomgyu moans too with his whole chest, throwing his head back, feeling his dick releasing inside the condom.

a minute passes by with you both catching your breath and cleaning up.

“thank you, darling”, beomgyu pats your head and kisses you once again, but this time much softer and nicer. “you did so good”

“thank you too” you whisper back to him. gyu hugs you by your shoulders, covering you with his body, and places a kiss on you head.

“now we have to get out of here safely”, he smiles at you, turning around to peek through the curtain. “and i'll buy you that miniskirt”

✉ thank you for reading ✉

[dandylovesturtles]

havin' all these Splinter and Leo thoughts. augh.

this is partly the fault of @/turtleblogatlast's post about Leo just wanting to make Splinter proud.

post-movie

...

Seven days post-invasion, and Leo is feeling (relatively) pretty good. Sure, he's still on a truly ridiculous amount of painkillers and he can't walk two steps without collapsing, but he's able to stay awake and talk to his family and considering where he thought he would be right about now, well... that's everything.

So yeah, he's feeling pretty good. He just finished his lunch of soup and a protein shake, warm and a little drowsy while he listens to April talk about some of the more ridiculous conspiracy theories that have started spreading on the surface. Donnie's tinkering with one of his smaller inventions while he listens, Mikey is nestled in Raph's lap, and everything is calm and cozy in their makeshift medbay.

And then his dad walks in and says, "I would like to talk to Blue, please. Alone."

And suddenly Leo doesn't feel so good anymore.

"Aha, wait," he says quickly, reaching out and grabbing April's sleeve just before she rises from her chair. "Whatever it is, you can say it in front of everyone, right?"

Splinter shakes his head. "This is a conversation I think it is best we have in private." He makes a shooing motion at the others, and April pulls her sleeve from Leo's fingers with a helpless shrug.

"See ya in a few, Leo," she says, then walks out. The others look from Splinter, to him, then back to Splinter, and one by one they each get up and shuffle out, too, with their own hasty farewells.

Traitors, every single one of them.

The door closes, and Leo finds himself alone with Splinter for the first time since coming back from Staten Island. Or at least, the first time he can remember. He was pretty out of it the first few days; most of what he remembers is muddled and confused. And embarrassing. He cried a lot more than he'd care to admit.

Splinter hops into chair April was sitting in and pulls it closer; he has to stay standing to be anywhere near eye level with Leo. He wishes he could read Splinter's face, but his expression is giving nothing away. Sometimes it's easy to forget he spent a not-insignificant part of his life as an actor, until something like this happens.

Leo decides to speak before he can. Head him off at the pass, or something.

"If you're going to yell at me, just remember my eardrums are already damaged."

Which is true - turns out being 1, too close to an exploding alien spaceship and 2, getting punched in the head repeatedly by an alien very mad about said exploding spaceship is bad for the ears, even when you don't have outer ears like a human. So super loud noises are a bad idea right now, and thus Leo cannot be yelled at. Flawless logic; maybe he can keep using that every time he gets in trouble.

For the first time, his dad's expression shifts, just a little. A deeper frown, a heavier set to his brow.

"You think I came in here to yell at you?"

Leo feels his stomach twist. Does he have to spell it out? "I mean, didn't you? That's usually what kicking everyone else out is leading up to."

"I see..." Splinter is still unreadable, looking a little too intensely at Leo. "And what do you think I want to yell at you about?"

He really does want it spelled out. Leo suddenly realizes that there won't be any yelling because this is his punishment: to admit everything he's done, to speak all his sins for his dad's ears. Lay it all out in his own tongue and show that he understands, really and truly, the depths of his screwups.

Oh, he understands. He understands it so well he may choke on the words.

"...For losing the key," he says finally, and it stings on its way out. He hasn't talked about it since it happened; every time he tries to say anything to the others, they shush him, saying, "It's okay, Leo, everything is fine now."

It's not okay, and everything isn't fine, and this is when he finally hears about it.

Finally, an identifiable emotion on Splinter's face: horror, dawning clear and present. And Leo doesn't understand that, because doesn't Splinter know he lost the key? He was there for that conversation, wasn't he? Leo's memories of that day have grown a little hazy between the drugs and the recovery and the fact that thinking about it for too long makes him go fuzzy around the edges, but he's pretty sure he remembers Splinter being there. He flicked popcorn at Leo's head. He probably should have done more than that; maybe then Leo wouldn't have made such a mess of things.

Splinter doesn't say anything right away, just stares at Leo with that horrified expression, and the silence is so scary that Leo starts filling it without even thinking.

"I was kidding about the whole... not yelling at me thing. I know I deserve it. I mean, I was fooling around, doing what you and Raph told me not to do, and I doomed the whole world doing it! Some leader I am, right? And I know I'm not exactly your favorite son to begin with, and that's fair, because I keep letting you down, but this is definitely my worst screwup to date, and you yell at me when I don't close the fridge door all the way or throw balls around the TV room so why wouldn't you yell at me for destroying the planet, right...?"

His voice peters out at the end, too hoarse to continue. That's the most words he's strung together over the last week, and for the first time he's glad for his injuries, for stopping him from spewing any more embarrassing word vomit just to fill the air.

Splinter is still looking at him with that same horrified expression. If anything, he just looks more upset, which means that Leo at least accomplished his goal.

Leo's waiting for the yelling to start, but when Splinter finally says something, it's, "You think I have a favorite son?" throwing Leo for a loop once again.

"Uh, yeah?" he says, because that's all there is to say. He's always assumed it's Donnie - the "funny one", the one who fixes Splinter's TV when it's broken, and the only one of them likely to get a real job and move out of the house. But even if it's not Donnie, it's gotta be Mikey, or Raph. His brothers are amazing and talented, and all Leo has ever been good at is winning the Lair Games.

Splinter closes his eyes a moment, and when he opens them his face moves back to a more neutral expression. "I do not have a favorite son," he says, firm and serious. "I love all of you just the same."

Leo thinks that can't be true - if it is, he feels bad for the other guys. But he doesn't think he can just say that, so he says, "Yeah, Dad, of course," instead.

Splinter looks a bit crestfallen. "You don't believe me?" he asks, and shoot. Leo has no idea how to respond to that.

"...I know you love us," is what he says. And that's true, it is! He just doesn't know how his dad could like him as much as the others.

Splinter's expression turns sad. He reaches out and lays a furry hand on Leo's arm, careful of his bandages and all the many wires he's hooked to. "You think you doomed the world?"

"I lost the key," Leo repeats. "It was all my fault. It's why I had to..." His voice fumbles over the words, and he revises. "It's why it had to be me."

Splinter's mouth twists. He climbs out of the chair and onto the mattress, careful not to jostle Leo as he settles down on his knees.

"Blue," he says softly, gently palming Leo's face this time. "None of this was your fault."

Leo's stomach twists again. He thought he was being punished, but somehow this is worse.

"Yes it was," he argues. "I lost the key," for the third time, "and... and I ignored the order to retreat, and got Raph captured, and and and, I ignored the guys and tried to force our way into Metro Tower, and it was me who told Donnie to try to fly that stupid ship, and because of me Mikey had to-"

"Leonardo," says Splinter, sharp, and Leo goes silent. His dad looks devastated, but he keeps his hand on Leo's cheek, brushing with his thumb, and for the first time Leo realizes his skin is wet. Splinter sighs heavily, his entire frame seeming to droop with the weight of it.

"Leonardo," he repeats, softly this time. "You did not doom the world."

"But-"

A furry finger on his lip quiets him.

"You did not doom the world," Splinter repeats, once again firm and serious. "You did not take the theft of the key seriously, because you did not know what it was, the threat it represented. But it was the Foot Clan who chose to use that key, fully knowing what evil it would unleash. That is not on you, my son. The responsibility falls squarely on them."

Leo doesn't know how much he can believe that - isn't it their job to stop the Foot Clan? But Splinter looks so sure as he says it, and his hand is still tender on Leo's cheek, and for the first time a little bit of doubt seeps into Leo's heart, telling him that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't all his fault after all.

But still...

"Even if that's true," he says, with heavy emphasis on the if, "everything I did after that-"

"You are young," his dad interrupts. "You are inexperienced. You are learning. And the amount of growth you showed us all, even over just that one day... You shined as brightly as I know you can."

Again, Leo's stomach does a twist - but it's a happier one, this time. Splinter's voice is sincere, leaving no room for doubt, and Leo can almost, almost believe that this is true, that his dad has believed in him from the very beginning. Has seen something in him, whatever it was that led him to make Leo the leader, that lead to him putting trust in Leo.

He just wishes he felt like he'd done more to earn it.

"You did not doom the world," says his dad again. "You saved it. But, it never should have been like that to begin with. You should never have been facing down such a fierce foe so young, especially as alone as you boys were. And you-"

His voice becomes choked up, and Leo's heart lurches.

"You... sacrificed yourself to save us all. I... I am your father, and I... could not protect you."

He's crying. His dad is crying, and Leo feels panic, reaching out to try and stop this.

"Dad-"

"No." Splinter holds up a hand, giving his head a hard shake. "All I ever wanted for you boys was to save you from the sacrifices asked of our family. And yet I could not - and for that, you paid dearly. You almost paid the ultimate price, and we almost lost you forever."

A thick knot forms in Leo's throat, and he can barely get out, "I'm okay, Dad, I'm here."

"Yes you are." Splinter squeezes his shoulder desperately. "You are here. You are safe. But that doesn't change that it should not have been you to begin with."

Leo watches in dawning horror as Splinter steps back, then kneels over on the mattress.

"This is why I came in here, Blue. Not to yell at you. To apologize."

He presses his forehead against the sheets.

"I am so sorry that I could not protect you."

He's crying. So is Leo, openly now. He reaches out for his dad, fumbling for his shoulders and urging him to straighten up.

"No, Dad... This wasn't your fault!"

"But-"

"No! It was just... it was just a really, really shitty thing that happened, okay? It was the Foot Clan, and the Krang, but it wasn't- it wasn't..."

Splinter raises his face and looks at him, and suddenly the words he's been trying to get Leo to believe for the last several minutes barrel into him and Leo crumbles.

"...I didn't have to do it," he says.

"No." Splinter gets up, coming closer. "You had nothing to atone for. You did it because you are brave, and you are kind, but this was never yours to fix."

Leo sucks in one harsh breath, then another, and then he's sobbing harder than he ever has in his life, and his dad hugs him tight, his arms warm and his fur soft where Leo buries his face in his shoulder.

All the feelings he's pushed aside - the ones he didn't think he had the right to feel, because he'd had to do it, he had to make up for his mistakes - bubble over, gripping him with grief and despair but also relief, that he's still here to cry and be hugged by his dad.

"I was so scared."

"I know."

"I thought I wouldn't see you guys again."

"I know. We thought we had lost you, too."

"I just... I didn't know what else to do... I couldn't let him... I couldn't..."

"Shhh, it's alright. It's over now. We're all safe."

Leo hugs his dad back, as tightly as he can with his injuries, and sobs and sobs until he's all out of tears. And all along, his dad tells him he is safe, he is good, and he is loved.

Later, Leo feels even better than he had before.

[poppadom0912]

Is it too late?

Warnings: Mentions of periods, hospitals, surgery, pain and illness

Summary: When your older brother is a fancy surgeon, being sick is the last thing you want.  

Requested by @1chicago5021

A/N: I'm still alive people. I had a sudden burst of inspiration and thought I'd finally get all these requests done before the next round of exams. I am in a lesson right now so I can’t do the usual aesthetic collage I always do. This was sent quite a while ago but I actually had so much fun writing this so thank you! I hope this lives up to your standards <3

*****

Two weeks ago now, your body randomly started not working the way you wanted it to, but you put all the blame on your period whose cramps hadn't been very forthcoming.

The painkillers were a coming in at a constant stream, hot water bottles never having the chance to go room temperature.

Your never-ending migraines and 24/7 cramps were a constant, so you expected to feel relief once you were back to normal. But that never came because this week started and somehow, you felt even worse.

When you woke up this morning to your throat feeling weird, you knew something was wrong when you drank water and the feeling didn’t go away.  

Despite that, you went to school anyways, bidding your brother goodbye when he dropped you off, completely unaware of your wellbeing. But you couldn’t blame the guy, he was stressed enough over work as it is, you didn’t need to add to his already overflowing workload.  

You only felt worse as the day progressed. It was only spring, nearing summer, but your body temperature wouldn’t stop fluctuating. One minute you were shivering and asking to borrow your friend's hoodie but the next you were sweating like you had just finished a marathon and was trying to get rid of as many layers as possible.  

The cramps were immense. The worst you ever had and to consider you just got off your period, you weren’t a stranger to post period cramps, but this was on another level. You hadn’t been in this much pain ever even while on your reds. None of the pain killers your friends kindly provided for you alleviated the pain. Death would feel ever so sweet right about now.  

You knew you were seriously sick when you were on the verge of collapsing at lunch. Your friends all shouted in alarm when you faltered on your feet in the cafeteria. You ignored their efforts and attempts to get you to the nurse's office. There wasn’t long left of the school day, there wasn’t any point in leaving with barely two hours left.  

As soon as you got home, you fell face first into bed. As soon as your head hit the pillow and you pulled the covers over your body with however much strength remained in your arms that got heavier as the day went on.  

You were in a deep sleep, so deep in fact that your dreams were non-existent. You weren’t too sure what time it was, but you felt someone shaking you, going from gentle to a hand tightly holding your shoulder, a muffled voice inaudible as you came in and out of your slumber.  

Their gestures were painful, but you didn’t have it in you to tell the intruder as you struggled to even muster a groan. Your eyes fluttered, face digging even deeper into the pillow as if to suffocate yourself. That was all the indication the person needed to shake you harder, adamant to wake you up.  

With a blocked nose, breathing out through your mouth proved itself to be a much more difficult task than it should’ve been. And stuffing your face into your pillow might not have been the best idea taking that into consideration.

Their voice sounded way too far away, as though they weren’t in the room with you. One second they were roughly holding you, the next, all pressure ceased but the pain didn’t.

Before you could even register what they were doing now, your eyes heavy with sleep dropped once more as you were enveloped into darkness again.

*****

Over the past two weeks, Connor had noticed your depleting energy but when the mood swings came along with your hot water bottles, he didn’t think any much more of the matter.

But then you showed no signs of improvements and at first, he could hardly notice. You hid it quite well at first but as the week progressed, it was apparent to him you were getting sick, and you were too stubborn to admit that to your surgeon brother.

Nonetheless, things didn’t look too bad that staying home was necessary. You were managing quite well, going to school the entire week without complaints, so he found no reason to intervene into something he knew would end up in an argument that would result in you holding a grudge and not talking to him for a few days.

He dropped you off and drove to work expecting nothing. You smiled at him when you left the car, and nothing seemed physically wrong when you picked up the pace to meet your friends.

His twelve-hour shift seemed to never end. When he had a moment to himself, he messaged you as he waited for his coffee, staring at his message that sat alone with no replies for hours. School has finished, you were sure to be home now, so why weren’t you answering?

He didn’t think much of it till he was meant to go home at twelve. He was all ready standing at his locker but then Maggie called his name and he saw several ambulances piling up outside.

As amazing as he was, his attention couldn’t be in two places at once and unfortunately for you, car crashes had more significance in this situation. But as soon as this was all over, you’d be his number one priority once more.

It was all over six hours later when he came out of the second surgery he had to take lead in.

Stepping out of the surgery theatre, he thanked all his co-workers and was dashing away to collect his things, not wanting to be here any longer. Having time to finally check his phone again, his concern skyrocketed when you still hadn’t replied to his messages.

Waving off the few staff remaining in the emergency department, Connor wasted no time in driving off. His adrenaline had yet to die down from the rush of a packed-out emergency room and doing several successful surgeries. Adding to this was his building concern for you. Maybe you were just sleeping, and your phone was on charge. Maybe it was on silent, and you didn’t hear anything. Maybe it was stolen, and you couldn’t contact him-

Connor sighed as he parked the car. Wasting no time, his body still thrumming from the surgery high, he walked into the building and took the stairs instead, taking large strides as he skipped every two.

The house was drop dead silent when he opened the door which you hadn’t locked from the inside like you usually would. That and the completely pitch-black apartment was the first things that put him on edge.

He locked the door behind him, walking in further and inspecting the living room and kitchen that didn’t look lived in. Everything was in its same place as he left it in this morning. Closing the blinds in the living room, he walked towards your bedroom, your door slightly ajar which had never been the case since you started living with him. You always shouted at him whenever he left the door even a slither open, you always needed complete darkness to sleep. The tiniest bit of light always hindering your sleeping ability.

Pushing the door open, Connor poked his head inside first to survey the room. He finally let himself relax at the sight of you lying in bed, your figure completely drowning in your duvet. The weird lump in your sheets being the only reason he could identify you.

He felt himself relax, his body physically deflating now that he had eyes on you, knowing for sure that nothing was wrong.

For some reason, your curtains were still open which they never were since you were young, always complaining, once again, that you needed complete darkness to be able to sleep. Closing your curtains, he found your phone on your bedside desk, and it was littered with notifications from not only him but all of your friends too. All of them were asking in variations if you were okay, if you felt better, did you get home safe and how you were feeling.

They were all sent at three in the afternoon. It was now two in the morning.

Concerned at the topic of the messages, Connor came over to the side of the bed you were laying on and placed his hand on your forehead, his eyes widening immediately. He felt himself warming up just from how hot you were.

Sitting down on the space by your knees, Connor shook you gently, trying to rouse you from your apparent very deep sleep but the only movement you made was from what he was doing.

“Y/N? Hey, wake up. Can you get up for me really quick?”

The adrenaline that was just dying down was picking up again along with his heart rate, why weren’t you waking up?

He shook you once again but this time, he was more rough, his worry meaning he gripped your shoulder tightly and shook you with a force that he’d never use on you before as his baby sister.

This time he tried calling you name while he tried getting you up. Lifting the duvet off your body, not only were you shivering but you were sweating a very unusual amount.

Swallowing harshly, Connor tried one more time, calling your name and roughly shaking you. “Come one, I need to you wake up Y/N.”

“Y/N. Y/N get up.”

But you just wouldn’t budge.

Deciding that enough was enough, he scooped you into his arms and it must’ve been the sudden movement that caused you to let out a small whimper in what was clearly pain. It was small but it was the most he’d gotten from you since he got home and that was better than nothing.

Foregoing his jacket, Connor made sure to slip your cardigan over your torso, so you weren’t going to die from the cold outside. He quickly slipped into his own shoes and left the building not a moment later.

*****

No one had been expecting Connor to be back at work so soon, not even him. It was a few minutes to three and the ED was relatively calm taking into account the big accident not too long ago, but Connor was grateful.

Getting out the car, Connor looked into the ED and called for the first person he saw.

“April! Get me a gurney!”

Said nurse was caught completely off guard, jumping from where she stood at the nurse's desk with Will not too standing behind her. He too clearly was confused but Connor had no time to dwell on them.

Not checking if she was listening, Connor rounded the car and picked you back into his arms, your head resting on his bicep and your legs on the inside of his elbow. Slamming the door shut, Connor strode into the emergency department and luckily for him, April and Will were more than ready to help.

“All the gurneys are used up from before, but we’ve got a free bed.” April said, leading the surgeon into an empty treatment room where Will was lowering the bedside rails.

“Talk to me Connor.” Will said, understanding there was no time for formalities when he saw it was you Connor was carrying.

“No clue what happened but she’s as hot as anything, she’s shivering and sweating at the same time and will not wake up for anything.” Connor started, gently laying you down and standing back to let Will and April do their jobs. He was itching to help but physically had to move further away from you so that he wouldn’t do anything stupid.

“Pretty sure she’s been sick and in pain for a while now, but she never said anything.” He continued, looking at all the numbers on the machines that were popping up as they were connected to your body. “When I asked last week, she just kept saying it was her period cramps.”

As April hooked you up onto an IV drip, Will started palpating your body in search for any particular place of pain. And when he came to a particular area in your lower abdomen and you cried out, the three of them looked at each other knowingly.

“Kieran should still be on shift.” Connor said, remembering the surgeon he left behind that was in charge and available.

Will nodded in confirmation, “Let’s move.”

*****

Waking up felt different to all the times before. Your levels of disorientation and haziness and confusion were on another level.

As soon as you opened your eyes, the first thing you noticed was the lack of pain. You couldn’t feel not even a pinch in your stomach, maybe it was weird to say but it felt liberating to not be in debilitating pain.

“Oh, thank goodness your awake.” Connor looked dead on his feet in the doorway of the room but the immense relief painting his face was like no other.

You made him feel and look like that- Shit, what happened, what did you do?

Before you could say anything, Connor beat you to it. “How are you feeling? In any pain?”

As he questioned you, a poured you a cup of water, holding it so all you had to do was drink and not need to exert energy that he knew from experience, you didn’t have.

Once again, before you could ask, he answered for you. “It was appendicitis. Your period cramps were in fact your appendix and last night it burst.”

“But it’s all good. We got you into surgery and your appendix is gone as should your pain.”

“Wow.” You said shakily, your voice so quiet from the lack of use.

“Please don’t do that next time.” Connor said, sitting on the empty seat by the bed, taking your hand into his. “Please tell me when you're in pain and when you feel sick. You matter to me; all your small or big problems are mine too. I don’t care how trivial they are.”

Silence followed as he set the glass aside. “You scared the shit out of me kiddo.”

And to say you felt guilty was an understatement.

“Claire’s pissed.” You both winced at the thought of your sister finding out. “She’s going to visit when she’s finished with work. I told her your healthy and out of surgery but she’s still pissed.”

“M’Sorry.” You apologised, voice hoarse and lips chapped. “I didn’t want-“

“Y/N.” Connors face made it look like he was in pain from your admission he cut off. “You’re never a bother to me okay? Me being a doctor is a good thing, use it to your advantage.”

You nodded, confirming to change next time if there was another time. Fingers crossed there isn’t.

“How hard was it to not do the surgery?” You smiled, squeezing his hand and poking his bicep. He was still in his scrubs from his shift last night.

Connor rolled his eyes and groaned. Such a sight made you laugh.

[jaywaslost]

Five Times Winnie Wanted to Confess, One Time Augustine Did

—

This has been in my docs done for ages I just never got around to posting it, written during a Cold Front obsession phase

Do excuse me if they're out of character or if I messed up any dates, I can't remember them all perfectly— Anyways, Enjoy!

--

Sypnosis: The first time Winnie realized he was in love was at the tender age of 12.

He hadn’t expected to think of that at all really, especially not at 4 in the morning of all times.

Word count: 8.9k

The first time Winnie realized he was in love was at the tender age of 12.

He hadn’t expected to think of that at all really, especially not at 4 in the morning of all times.

The date on his phone read February 14th, 20xx. He didn’t know why he was still awake, but something in him absolutely refused to get a wink of sleep, quite different to usual. On a normal day he was asleep by 11 maximum, with the exception of the first few days after moving away from his home (his mother was very concerned, he still remembers how she’d check on him during the night to see if he was sleeping or not. He’d pretend to the best of his ability until she left before he returned to wallowing in his sorrows again.).

Scrolling on his phone seemed to be the only form of entertainment at the time, if he got out of bed his parents would realize he was awake and he really didn’t feel like getting another lecture. He didn’t have any homework to busy himself with, nor did he really feel like looking for something else. Messaging Augustine had come to mind, but there was no doubt he was asleep at this time.

The other was stubborn, especially when it came to him staying up on weekends, but he never usually made it past 2. He would also sleep in until around 1PM every time he tried to be stubborn and stay awake longer and get scolded about it when he woke up, punished with doing extra chores. On those days he wouldn’t stop complaining about it, saying he was ‘a big boy now’ and that ‘it’s not fair others get to stay awake and get away with it!’. He couldn’t help finding his friend’s enraged expressions funny.

The blond didn’t end up saying anything so as not to wake him up, they could probably talk in the morning, anyway. With nothing better to do, he scrolled through anything he could find trying to distract himself or become tired enough to sleep and get the rest he needed.

When his eyes finally started to get heavier, he noticed a website that caught his attention. It was something posted merely moments ago, titled something along the lines of what to do on valentines day for your loved ones or whatever (he was too tired to process it properly). Out of curiosity, his fingers glided over the link to open it.

It was too late for him to process most of the words, but what stood out was the beginning of the article. It was nothing special, only the typical explanation of what the day is and why it's considered special, but his eyes lingered on a single phrase. ‘Valentine's day was a special occasion for everyone, the perfect day to confess to your crush, whether it's a friend, classmate, or even acquaintance who has lingered on your mind’ was the quote, the rest of the paragraph continued similarly.

His tired mind couldn’t help but wonder what could happen on this day, childish brain coming up with no more than the image of people like his parents, always together and in love, dedicated to each other to the point you could see it a mile away. He wondered what the day could mean for him, is there a special someone he should be thinking about? Is it normal this is the first time he really thinks about that? Is he gonna be the outcast again being alone in the morning while everyone else has someone by their side? Was he weird because he didn’t have his eyes set on a girl he wanted to…kiss? It shouldn’t be an issue he was twelve, but what if things in Saskatchewan were different or something, would they laugh at hi-

His thoughts came to a halt as the image of his one friend came to mind. Augustine didn’t have his eyes on any girls either, right? He would have known otherwise. They told each other everything, that wouldn’t be an exception!

..Did he know anything about this day? It was never acknowledged all that much in Quebec, was it the same here? Maybe he wasn't so weird after all? The thought calmed his nerves a little more than it should have.

Despite that, for some reason, the idea of being with his best friend during that day didn’t bother him as much as it should have. He felt his face rapidly heat up at the thought of holding his hand, it wouldn’t be the first time they did that they do so very often Augustine always liked to drag him places saying that it was easy and faster (which Winnie was offended by, he can walk fast too!) but for some reason that thought felt different, he didn’t know why.

If his reaction to finding out about the event was normal, this was definitely not. They’re friends, Auggie was his first and only friend after coming here. He didn’t pity him, he didn’t leave, he wanted to stay, he was why Winnie talked to other people at all even if to him they were enough on their own. Auggie was nice to him the way he wanted, he never left him out of things. The other boy was different, straight forward at best but Winnie liked that about him. He never lied about things (even if he did, he was so bad it was laughable), and he never laughed when Winnie’s emotions took the best of him. He supported him and it meant everything to the little boy.

Since they met, he visibly started feeling better. He finally came out of his shell and started crying less, eventually returning to his normal sleep schedule. Well, normal until today that was. But that's all they were, right? Nothing else, that's all they could be right? He wasn’t a girl, nor was the brunette, so that’s what they were.

..Their parents didn’t ever say anything about the way they acted, so it was okay right? Not much would change if they did do things together on that day. Would it be weird if he said he loved him in the morning?? That was the point of the day right? To celebrate love with people you like and enjoy the day together?

It would be okay if he tried to say something right? Nothing bad would happen, Auggie would probably be okay with it too. He didn’t want to be alone and he doubted the other did either, so it was good for them both right?

Winnie barely processed it when he yawned, just realizing how tired all that thinking had made him. Another look at the time told him over an hour had passed, 5:21 Am now instead of 4 when he last checked.

He had to rest so he knew what to say in the morning, otherwise he’ll mess up and forget later!

Finally, he closed his eyes and drifted off to a dreamless sleep 6 hours later than he would have typically wanted to.

It was 2 P.M when Winnie woke up, his head was pounding. His eyes hurt to open and he felt a lot more tired than usual, entirely disoriented.

The door creaked open as a woman with an appearance similar to the child peered her head in, perking up when she realized he was awake.

“Winnie?”

He really shouldn’t have stayed awake, his head hurt even more at hearing the words that he almost forgot to process his name being called. Mustering up the energy to fix his seating, he looked up at his mother to respond despite looking like an absolute wreck.

He was too out of it to really process what happened before he found himself near the lake with Augustine, the shorter kicking rocks into it paying little attention to him spacing out.

..Ah right, he was scolded for being awake for so long. Apparently his mother had realized he was awake when she went to take the laundry out of his room in the morning. His phone was warm, a clear sign he only got off of it recently. She ended up leaving after telling him to get ready for the day, that his best friend had been waiting for him for an hour by that point.

Hearing how long he left him standing, Winnie practically jumped out of bed already panicked as guilt overtook his senses. As soon as he was ready, he basically raced out the door to find his friend who was halfway up climbing a tree by the time he noticed him.

“Auggie!” he exclaimed while making his way over, whatever the other responded didn’t stick to his memory, too tired to really process how fast he typically spoke.

“-Winnie! Look at me already!”

The blond was snapped out of his trance by a flick to the forehead, blinking a few times before his eyes cooperated enough to notice how close his friend was to his face. He practically jumped back with a yelp, forgetting how he was sitting on the edge of the lake and falling into the water.

Augustine panicked and barely grabbed onto his hand, almost falling into the water himself. It’s not that Winnie was unable to swim, more that the water was cold if anything.

With some splashing, they eventually managed to pull him out, but he was absolutely soaked. Augustine couldn’t help but laugh at how wet he was, much to Winnie’s displeasure.

“DON’T LAUGH AT ME YOU’RE THE REASON I FELL AUGGIE” He huffed out, faking annoyance which only made his friend laugh harder.

It was.. Nice.

…until he began sneezing, that was.

The two ended up having to run to Winnie’s house as Augustine dragged him back by the hand once more, trying to warm him up as they went along.

The brunette ended up having to explain to their parents why Winnie was soaked when they were just meant to be playing as he dried himself off and changed, eventually making his way back to his room after Auggie had left to his own house again.

Their conversation can wait, he was too tired and it wasn’t the right time.

But that was okay.

They’ll always have time.

———————————————

The second time Winnie thought about love, he was 14.

2 years had passed since his valentines day dilemma, safe to say time (and procrastination) had eventually made him forget all about his plans.

As they got older, Auggie had hardly changed. They were still together as they were since he moved, only fresh in highschool! Best friends, like they said they were.

During the past few years, he was pressured to talk to more people and make new friends. At some point, he no longer found himself obsessing over finding out why they wanted to be around him. Eventually, the thought of being approached out of pity felt only like a distant memory or something he imagined happening, though it was far from that. If not for that fear, his mother wouldn’t have talked to Augustine’s about him, they wouldn’t have had their c̶h̶a̶o̶t̶i̶c̶ first meeting, never gotten the chance to be this close.

He may not admit or even say it all that often, but that is one thing he’s grateful for. If not for that, he’d have still been dealing with the emotional wreck of being the new kid, outcast like he always expected to be. But he didn’t need to be, it was proven to him in the best way it ever could have been.

He had come to know Augustine’s other friends, they even liked him. The first time he couldn’t make it to school and they still invited Winnie to sit with them the boy was overjoyed, almost to the point he forgot about his friend’s absence for a while. By the time the day was over, he couldn’t help feeling empty without the energetic presence rambling alongside him as they walked back home.

It was one day, so it didn’t matter that much in the long run right?

From that day on, he became more comfortable with them. He didn’t worry as much about being wanted there or not, becoming visibly more comfortable. It came to the point that it was so clear the brunette asked him about it straight up during the middle of one of their walks.

“Hey Win?” Augustine paused, nearly causing the boy behind him to run into him.

The blond caught himself the last second, stabilizing his stance enough to make sure he wouldn’t fall before speaking again.

“Mm yea Auggie? Why’d you stop walking? I was gonna fall on you!” He whined.

“You’ve been more willing to sit with people recently, did something happen while I was gone?”

His questioning look was met with a big smile, almost like Winnie was waiting to talk about it.

“Oh!! That? When you didn’t come a few days ago, your friends came up to me and asked me to sit with them even if you weren’t there, they were really nice and-”

As he continued to ramble, Augustine returned to walking. While the other followed soon after, his expression stayed the same as his ramble- which the brunette stopped listening to- didn’t cease. He felt weird about that, why did it feel weird hearing how happy Winnie was hanging out with his friends on their own? That was what he wanted, right? To get him more friends?

It was probably nothing, doubt it mattered much anyway. It was one time and a normal thing.

“You never told me why you didn't show up to school that day though, did something happen? Mom didn’t let me check on you because she said you probably didn’t want to be bothered at the time” Winnie inquired all of a sudden, catching the other’s attention and cutting off his line of thought.

“I was sick, couldn’t get out of bed and recovered over the weekend” he quickly responded, it was no lie but saying he wasn’t bummed out by not seeing his friend would be a lie. It would have probably made him feel less like a glorified pile of muck on the side of the road.

At least now he knows he wasn’t ditched, it wasn’t intentional or voluntary at least.

Winnie didn’t abandon him because of them.

Of course he wouldn’t! Why would he ever leave someone like him, anyway? He was Winnie’s first and closest friend, nobody else. Others getting to know him wouldn’t change that, if they would have then Winnie wouldn’t have put his all into proving he was cool enough they’d be friends.

Winnie didn’t really notice the look on his friend’s face, too focused on making sure they crossed the road properly. The traffic lights were green and cars were zooming past, yet Augustine’s pace didn’t slow or pause at all. Rushing forward a little faster, he pulled the other back by his collar.

Augustine yelped, not expecting a sudden pull cutting off his breathing for a moment. Winnie gave him a sheepish smile as he coughed trying to breathe properly again, muttering out an awkward apology.

“You were about to walk into the road silly, why did you get so distracted suddenly?” He didn’t say how he found it funny, knowing the other would throw a dramatic fit over that. It was slightly endearing, in a way.

He only realized he sas silently staring at the one before him for a few minutes too long until he felt tapping on his forehead.

“Earth to Winnie, you didn’t hear a word I said didn’t you?” Augustine grumbled.

Winnie couldn't help but laugh once again, his antics really were different.

“We can cross the road now, hurry up before it turns green again!”

It seemed like his dear friend was back to being himself after that mini-distraction, it felt more right this way. He was, once again, taken by the hand as Auggie ran across the road to get them past as fast as possible without the light switching colours on them again.

Winnie could swear he almost tripped 3 times during that small distance run. He should really focus more.

As he looked back to his best friend he couldn’t help but sit there in silence for a few minutes. He wasn’t saying anything this time, only staring off at something god knows where again. As he did so, Winnie couldn’t help thinking back to his thoughts that night two years ago.

Should he bring it up? They were even closer now, so it was even less possible Auggie would react badly (if he did at all!)He had the energy for the conversation this time, they were alone like they needed to be too!

If he didn’t say anything, he’d be too much of a coward to do so again later. 2 years passing since the time he originally planned to and ended up ditching proved that!

With a deep breath and little to no plan, Winnie decided to just get it over with as he could quite literally feel himself inching closer to a heart attack.

“Hey Auggie?”

Augustine turned to him, suddenly losing interest in whatever had his attention moments ago.

“What is i-”

“AUGUSTINE!’

A voice of someone they hadn’t anticipated caught both the young boys off guard. Winnie recognized her, a girl from their math class earlier that day. She was insistent on talking to his friend almost the entire class which threw him off but he said nothing nonetheless.

Augustine’s attention snapped to the call of his name instead, focus shifting.

Winnie didn’t hear the conversation that transpired next, busy trying to understand why the sudden interruption annoyed him the way it did.

It happened sometimes, that was normal. Augustine knew everyone, it's only natural they came up to him sometimes too no? He wasn’t the only one.

“Winnie I need to go for a bit, Donna just said there’s something I need to see quickly or something? You can continue without me I’ll tell you when I’m back” the boy rushed out as he was being pulled away off to the complete opposite road of the path they were going on.

Winnie found himself nodding involuntarily, hardly processing it when the words “I’ll see you when you’re back then” came out of his mouth.

They were oddly dry, not the way he usually talks.

Augustine wasn’t able to dwell on that much further as the girl, now known as Donna, dragged him off somewhere else leaving Winnie alone.

Another time, surely it’d work out by then right?

———————————————

The third time Winnie acknowledged love, he was 16.

Another two years had passed and, once again, he kept procrastinating and chickening out at the last second.

The one time he was finally about to say something, Augustine was dragged away and didn’t return until midnight. He was worried sick the entire day, what if something happened? He promised not to take long, why did he? Maybe he was dragged into something bad, maybe he got hurt and couldn’t come back yet what if he got kidnapped what if something worse happened he didn’t know what the’d do with himself if—

Their mothers were equally worried that day, apparently Augustine didn’t tell his parents he’d take longer because of whatever happened either. When he returned alone, Winnie was questioned about the others whereabouts and lacked a good answer, increasing their concern only for the boy in question to appear again a mere few hours later and get the scolding of his life.

He wasn’t hurt more than a few scratches here and there, some bruises sure but those were his own fault for not being careful as he should have been. Auggie never explained what happened that day, though. It’s not like he pressed for any further information but it was…weird.

Since then, he never brought it up again no matter how much the brunette pestered him to continue his sentence on that day, claiming he forgot or making up any excuse he could think of on the spot to avoid having that interaction when he was not yet prepared. He was procrastinating for so long it had to be perfect. That was the only thing that would make it feel worth the wait.

Winnie would tell him on the anniversary of their first meeting.

..was it excessive? To call it an anniversary, he doubted Auggie remembered the date as anything special but it meant the world to him at the time, and it does even as time passed. It was when he realized he didn’t have to feel so alone anymore, the day someone in this province finally made him feel wanted and welcome.

Because of him, he got closer to more people. The friends Augustine introduced him to, the ones who invited him to hang out with them alone, others around the school, they all wanted to know him for him now. He was the reason they started liking Winnie, the reason he has any other friends at all.

Of course, Augustine would forever stay his favourite and dearest one, but that didn’t mean others didn’t become valued too. Winnie had never been happier, people waving to him as he passed by, stopping to talk to him from time to time, it made him feel warm inside again.

He didn’t miss the glances he got, but it never felt like much of a concern.

At least, not for a while.

Or not yet.

What he had noticed was how Augustine had changed over the years, how he reacted whenever the blond introduced him to a new friend he’d make. How he tended to not respond the way he used to when they were talking about interests they had, especially Hockey.

Winnie knew his friend always loved that game. He was the best player their school had for years, close to all other members of the team and always telling him about it. H̶e̶ t̶r̶i̶e̶d̶ n̶o̶t̶ t̶h̶i̶n̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ h̶o̶w̶ c̶o̶n̶v̶e̶n̶i̶e̶n̶t̶l̶y̶ t̶h̶e̶ t̶i̶m̶e̶ A̶u̶g̶u̶s̶t̶i̶n̶e̶ s̶t̶o̶p̶p̶e̶d̶ t̶a̶l̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ i̶t̶ l̶i̶n̶e̶d̶ u̶p̶ w̶i̶t̶h̶ t̶h̶e̶ t̶i̶m̶e̶ w̶h̶e̶n̶ h̶e̶ j̶o̶i̶n̶e̶d̶ t̶h̶e̶ t̶e̶a̶m̶ a̶l̶o̶n̶g̶s̶i̶d̶e̶ t̶h̶e̶ b̶o̶y̶.

H̶e̶ d̶i̶d̶n̶'t̶ m̶i̶s̶s̶ t̶h̶e̶ d̶i̶s̶t̶a̶n̶t̶ l̶o̶o̶k̶s̶ f̶r̶o̶m̶ a̶c̶r̶o̶s̶s̶ t̶h̶e̶ r̶i̶n̶k̶, w̶h̶e̶n̶ A̶u̶g̶u̶s̶t̶i̶n̶e̶'s̶ e̶y̶e̶s̶ l̶o̶o̶k̶e̶d̶ c̶o̶l̶d̶e̶r̶ t̶h̶a̶n̶ t̶h̶e̶y̶ e̶v̶e̶r̶ h̶a̶d̶ b̶e̶f̶o̶r̶e̶.

W̶h̶e̶n̶ h̶e̶ f̶e̶l̶t̶ d̶i̶f̶f̶e̶r̶e̶n̶t̶.

N̶o̶t̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ i̶t̶ w̶a̶s̶ a̶n̶ i̶s̶s̶u̶e̶ t̶h̶o̶u̶g̶h̶, t̶h̶e̶y̶ w̶e̶r̶e̶ f̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶s̶, r̶i̶g̶h̶t̶?̶ I̶t̶ w̶a̶s̶ l̶i̶k̶e̶l̶y̶ h̶e̶ w̶a̶s̶ h̶a̶v̶i̶n̶g̶ a̶ b̶a̶d̶ d̶a̶y̶ a̶n̶y̶w̶a̶y̶, t̶h̶i̶s̶ y̶e̶a̶r̶ w̶a̶s̶ n̶o̶t̶ t̶r̶e̶a̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ h̶i̶m̶ k̶i̶n̶d̶l̶y̶ b̶y̶ a̶n̶y̶ m̶e̶a̶n̶s̶.

They were still friends, accompanying each other to every class and doing things together as always. It was a good thing how they haven’t changed in that regard, people always came to associate them with the other.

Overtime, it became apparent that wherever Augustine is, Winnie was not far away and vice versa. They used to joke about it at first until it became frequent enough the joke itself got boring. Now, it’s nothing special.

Sure, they walked with other people and hung out with others sometimes. a̶t̶ l̶e̶a̶s̶t̶ h̶e̶ d̶i̶d̶, A̶g̶u̶s̶t̶i̶n̶e̶ m̶u̶s̶t̶ h̶a̶v̶e̶ t̶o̶o̶ n̶o̶?̶ h̶e̶ h̶a̶d̶ p̶l̶e̶n̶t̶y̶ o̶f̶ f̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶s̶ a̶s̶ f̶a̶r̶ a̶s̶ h̶e̶ k̶n̶e̶w̶. But it never damaged their bond.

Winnie was planning this day for the past 4 months at this point, it almost felt funny how repetitive this routine felt by the third time. “The day he would stop being a coward, would say it to his friend’s face and wait for the response he yearns for” or whatever he always thought about, cheesy in a way but it wasn’t like he could exactly help that.

They were only walking through the halls during their lunch period when they passed by Winnie’s locker. A normal thing if not for the fact 3 people were crowded around it, whispering to themselves.

The duo didn’t pay it much time at first, preferring to continue their debate on the newest pointless subject they thought of: if oranges came first or if it was the colour. Augustine insisted the fruit did, whereas Winnie was prepared to die on the hill saying it was the other way around.

The group of 3 in front of the locker were not people the two were particularly friends with, Winnie recognized one as someone who sits next to him in.. biology? At least that's what he remembered. Augustine shrugged at the question of their names, saying it didn’t come up enough for him to remember them much, adding on how they weren’t particularly interesting enough for him to care beyond acquainting with anyway.

It wasn’t something Winnie needed to put much thought into either, trusting his friend’s judgement.

All that really mattered now was convincing Auggie to follow him to the rooftop where he could finally say what he wanted to in complete privacy, but until then he had to keep his cool and continue their seemingly endless bickering.

They were forced to snap out of their conversation when one of the boys pushed someone towards them, turning to see what the issue was. The girl pushed towards them by her friends lost her balance, but Winnie quickly caught her fall before any actual damage could be caused, at which her face turned red.

H̶e̶ c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ s̶w̶e̶a̶r̶ A̶u̶g̶u̶s̶t̶i̶n̶e̶ g̶l̶a̶r̶e̶d̶ a̶t̶ h̶e̶r̶.

“Are you okay?” he inquired, looking between the three in obvious confusion.

The girl just nodded, fiddling with her hands seemingly unable to form a proper response. As he turned away to leave after telling them to be more careful, his arm was grabbed by her as a seemingly impulse decision she regretted almost immediately after.

W̶a̶y̶ t̶o̶ s̶e̶t̶ h̶i̶s̶ p̶l̶a̶n̶ o̶f̶f̶ a̶c̶t̶i̶o̶n̶, h̶e̶ o̶n̶l̶y̶ h̶a̶d̶ 1̶5̶ m̶i̶n̶u̶t̶e̶s̶ l̶e̶f̶t̶!̶

Before he could breathe, she finally spoke up.

“Can I- talk to you for a few minutes?”

Winnie looked back at his friend, seemingly at a loss. He didn’t want to stay, he planned so long for this but she didn’t have plans of letting him go yet and-

The look on Augustine’s face was cold as it was on those days in the rink, his expression changing to one Winnie couldn’t read in mere seconds after they were talking normally only moments ago.

At least that's what he thought, it’s what that looked like anyway.

“You can go, it’s fine” the brunette said, though Winnie knew better than to believe his tone was one of someone who really didn’t care what he did. He knew better than that, Augustine was annoyed, but what for?

It seemed like the girl took that as an invitation to drag him away, almost tripping Winnie in the meantime. Her friends cheered her on as Augustine only turned around and walked in the opposite direction instead of waiting for him to return after or interrupting her for dragging him off like that.

Whatever side of the school she was taking him to he didn’t quite notice, only realizing how far they’d gone when she shoved a letter into his hands and refused to look at him. Winnie could easily guess the implications of that, seeing the heart sticker on the front of it.

It was about to be a long conversation, one he didn’t want to be a part of.

Why was it so difficult for things to work out when he wanted to come clean?

Maybe another time, surely.

———————————————

Winnie was 18 when they grew apart.

Their separation started slow, over the course of a few years.

It wasn’t entirely like that of course!- they were talking less is all, not really separate. They still hung out at school sometimes like they used to and sat together in one or two classes, W̶i̶n̶n̶i̶e̶ f̶o̶u̶n̶d̶ h̶i̶m̶s̶e̶l̶f̶ d̶r̶a̶g̶g̶e̶d̶ s̶o̶m̶e̶w̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ e̶l̶s̶e̶ m̶o̶r̶e̶ o̶f̶t̶e̶n̶ t̶h̶a̶n̶ n̶o̶t̶, A̶u̶g̶g̶i̶e̶ n̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ s̶t̶o̶p̶p̶e̶d̶ h̶i̶m̶ s̶o̶ h̶e̶ d̶i̶d̶n̶'t̶ t̶h̶i̶n̶k̶ t̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ w̶a̶s̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ m̶u̶c̶h̶ o̶f̶ a̶ p̶r̶o̶b̶l̶e̶m̶ r̶i̶g̶h̶t̶?̶

They walked together after on their home, but Auggie never looked at him if he could help it. When he did, something felt wrong. Instead of the warm looks he always received when they were kids, it was like looking at a stranger.

Any conversations they had were started by him and died out quite quickly, the other giving the bare minimum of a response if not just nodding and moving along. The blond never figured out how to get him to talk like they used to again, nor the reason for the sudden change.

Something he noticed more and more as he approached his friend was the way the other would scoff, as if annoyed by his mere presence. Winnie remembers staying awake night after night thinking and trying to understand what happened, where he went wrong, what he did to make things this way.

He looked through every conversation he could find, recounting every single one he could remember trying to find what about him led his friend to being unhappy about his presence after so long.

Could it be that Augustine had grown tired of him?

Winnie shook his head- he was too tired to be thinking of this at the moment. They would be heading back home in a bit, it was 3:00 anyway, a few minutes left before the bell rings.

He would approach Auggie and have a proper conversation again if it was the last thing he did!

…He didn’t realize how hard that would be until he was already looking for the other, trying to make up any topic so they wouldn’t walk in silence again, and fate didn’t seem to be on his side as he found the person he was in search of before conjuring anything up.

Despite the cold air between them, Augustine still waited for him at the gate so they could walk back together. It made Winnie feel more at ease, knowing he at least didn’t mess up badly enough to get ditched entirely.

He didn’t respond to anyone calling him as he speed-walked over to the brunette, not wanting to make him wait longer than he already did. Heavens know the last thing Winnie wanted now was to have Augustine ditch him because he took too long.

As soon as he arrived, the brunette turned around and started walking down the path that's been imprinted into their memory over the years. It was always a routine of theirs to walk back together, the company was nice. The few times they were separated by something happening always ended up in an apology or hangout later that day to make up for the time.

Winnie both loved and hated how this walk started to feel overtime. The silence wasn’t comfortable as it used to be, his friend didn't look like he planned to break it either. As expected, the job fell on his shoulders.

The further they went, the worse it got. The familiarity of the path at least allowed him to space out and think more about what to do to make things less awkward.

It seemed as if his brain had other plans, by the way it didn’t cooperate. Whatever, they knew each other for years. The last few conversations couldn’t keep repeating, they’d never improve again if neither of them spoke up.

“Hey Auggie?” He began, with little clue as to where he planned to go with the conversation.

For the first time that day, Augustine looked up at him. “Yea?”

“I heard you had a test today, how did it go? Math right?” Winnie did not in fact hear of a math test, let alone one at all. A friend of his mentioned stressing over one the week prior and he just asked that based on someone else who probably wasn’t even in the same cla-

“Another calculus one, yes. Absurdly soon seeing when the last one was” he responded, looking back to the street instead of the one next to him.

That was something Winnie could work with, a start somewhere.

“How did it go? You were always complaining about that subject then finishing all the work before I even got halfway through the page, it was impressive”

There was a shift in Augustine’s expression, small, but noticeable. It was a good confirmation he was doing alright so far, which was all he needed.

The shorter just shrugged at the question. It was how he always reacted to those sorts of inquiries, Winnie couldn’t help letting out a small laugh.

H̶e̶ m̶i̶s̶s̶e̶d̶ t̶h̶e̶ w̶a̶y̶ A̶u̶g̶u̶s̶t̶i̶n̶e̶ s̶t̶i̶f̶f̶e̶n̶e̶d̶ a̶t̶ t̶h̶e̶ s̶o̶u̶n̶d̶.

“How'd you know there was a test to benign with? We’re in different math classes” Augustine may have been staring at the road still, but he was less focused on their path more at kicking the rocks he found on the way. A classic thing he did, trying to get them to go as far as possible.

When they were younger they used to try and see who could do it better, but Winnie eventually grew out of it. Of the many things that changed about Augustine, that habit was not one.

“A friend was complaining about it the last time we talked, I assumed you might have the same teacher and I was right!” He answered. What to him seemed like a simple answer made Augustine pause. Pause for a lot longer than he should have as his expression shifted again.

..Winnie didn’t think he said anything wrong, did he?

Augustine didn’t respond, opting to go back to walking faster than before rather than say a word.

They would be silent again if he didn’t continue, it was going well for once his friend responded with proper sentences again instead of gestures or small sentences.

“I’m sure you did great, Auggie!” He saw the other smile and roll his eyes at those words, s̶l̶i̶g̶h̶t̶l̶y̶ r̶e̶l̶i̶e̶v̶e̶d̶?̶.

The direction he was going in seemed to be exactly what was needed, so Winnie went on. “Did you go to hockey practice last Friday? I had to miss it to help my parents with stuff after school but I couldn’t stop thinking about that”

Augustine scoffed and Winnie hesitated to say anything else as a strange feeling set in.

“I went, everyone kept asking about you though”

“That’s so nice of them, I didn’t-” He was cut off by the feeling of his wrist being grabbed roughly.

“What was that?”

Winnie blinked awkwardly, just noticing the expression on the other’s face.

“I just..said that it was nice?” Augustine held onto his wrist tighter at that.

“Don’t play dumb, repeat what you said again I dare you.”

He was angry.

Despite everything, Winnie had never seen the other angry with him. He saw him annoyed, yelling at others from time to time, but never him. Especially not while grabbing his arm like it had offended him somehow.

“I didn’t say anythi-”

“You think I’m stupid don’t you? I heard you, coward.” The brunette let go of him and Winnie held the now slightly reddened wrist as his confusion only grew.

“Of course you didn’t. Whatever, I’ll see you later.”

Before Winnie could respond or reach out to stop him, the other stormed off in the opposite direction on his own but not without sending him a glare before he left.

He messed up again.

The problem was he didn’t know what he said.

Did he not like hockey anymore? Was that topic a bad idea?

For the first time, Winnie felt like their end was near.

He didn't know how long he stood in place before his legs finally started moving again, what he did know was the chances of fixing their friendship were lower than they were previously at the start of the day. The Augustine he knew and the one he was faced with felt like different people now.

It was like there was a stranger in his skin.

———————————————

Winnie was 18 when he wished he never thought about love at all.

A long time had passed since his last conversation with Augustine, and it was now the summer.

Their relationship only got worse after the conversation on their walk back to their houses, always off when the other one is present.

If anyone asked Winnie if he expected this only a few years prior, he would be beyond confused. The boy couldn’t have predicted a fallout as bad as this one.

He was going to move soon, they didn’t need to deal with this much longer.

That was what he thought, at least. When it came to the day right before they moved, their parents made them hang out together again. Instead of what they may have typically done a while back, they opted to go on one last car ride together to talk one last time.

It wasn’t like the fact they grew apart this badly wasn’t his fault. He’s the one who stopped talking despite Augustine’s attempts.

He’s the one who never responded after…

H̶e̶ n̶o̶t̶i̶c̶e̶d̶ A̶u̶g̶u̶s̶t̶i̶n̶e̶ l̶o̶o̶k̶ a̶t̶ h̶i̶m̶ f̶r̶o̶m̶ a̶c̶r̶o̶s̶s̶ t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ c̶l̶a̶s̶s̶e̶s̶, c̶l̶u̶b̶s̶, a̶n̶y̶w̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ t̶h̶e̶y̶ w̶e̶r̶e̶ t̶y̶p̶i̶c̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ t̶o̶g̶e̶t̶h̶e̶r̶. H̶e̶ n̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ s̶a̶i̶d̶ a̶n̶y̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ i̶t̶.

That was what he thought, at least. When it came to the day right before they moved, their parents made them hang out together again. Instead of what they may have typically done a while back, they opted to go on one last car ride together to talk one last time.

Winnie was beyond nervous, but to say he wasn’t excited was a lie. As much as he may have avoided acknowledging it, he missed the other dearly. D̶e̶s̶p̶i̶t̶e̶ w̶h̶a̶t̶ h̶e̶ w̶a̶n̶t̶e̶d̶ t̶o̶ b̶e̶l̶i̶e̶v̶e̶, h̶e̶ n̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ s̶t̶o̶p̶p̶e̶d̶ l̶o̶v̶i̶n̶g̶ h̶i̶m̶ a̶n̶d̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ o̶n̶l̶y̶ m̶a̶d̶e̶ i̶t̶ h̶u̶r̶t̶ w̶o̶r̶s̶e̶.

He grabbed the nearest pair of glasses and rushed out the door.

A̶u̶g̶u̶s̶t̶i̶n̶e̶ u̶s̶e̶d̶ t̶o̶ j̶o̶k̶i̶n̶g̶l̶y̶ m̶a̶k̶e̶ f̶u̶n̶ o̶f̶ h̶i̶m̶ f̶o̶r̶ h̶a̶v̶i̶n̶g̶ t̶h̶o̶s̶e̶ o̶n̶e̶s̶ a̶n̶d̶ t̶a̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ t̶h̶e̶m̶ e̶v̶e̶r̶y̶w̶h̶e̶r̶e̶.

He found the other waiting for him outside, avoiding eye contact which Winnie didn’t blame him for. They got into the car in silence, the drive continued that way for a while.

Winnie didn’t know what to do, so he pretended nothing happened. He was too focused on making sure his legs don’t go numb while he’s driving, the last thing they needed was a car accident.

As if life was trying to make things hard for him intentionally, that's exactly what they found themselves set up for.

Stranded in a frozen car, suddenly in the middle of winter, dealing with situations beyond their comprehension after a fight in the car.

First staring at the frozen corpses of their child selves, being chased by an..elk-bear monstrosity, falling into what looked like an endless hole, the list went on..

Augustine was searching for a way to leave the entire time, to figure out what happened, but Winnie was unable to get himself to move or put in the same effort.

They were currently in his house, or what looked to be it, and Augustine was searching the rooms. He was sitting on the piles of boxes trying to think of something to help, trying not to freeze to his death.

His gaze lingered on the stairs as memories played out in his mind.

The day he fell down the stairs and broke his legs, the way Augustine left.

When he tripped and was found by someone else, when he waited for Augustine’s return before he passed out for it to never come.

When he truly started questioning the very core of their relationship.

He was not.. Angry. He was confused.

Months later, he still didn’t have an answer as to why. He didn’t know what they were anymore, and it hurt.

It hurt worse than anything, but he didn't blame the other. Augustine didn’t act without reason, he wasn’t the irrational type.

The phrase Augustine said moments before was looping endlessly in his head.

Before he fell- before Winnie LET him fall.

Begging him to hold onto his hands properly and pull him up.

“Please don’t let go. I’m your friend. We’re friends.”

The silence that followed will haunt him.

“We are friends, right?”

The same question he asked himself for months.

He was dragged out of his trance hearing mumbling behind him. Augustine was standing there, a dark look in his eyes.

Darker than Winnie had ever seen from him.

He was..worried.

“Auggie?”

The mumbling continued.

“Augustine? Hello?”

No response.

It took a while for the other to respond, he seemed just as confused as he was.

His chest felt heavy as they both stood there, while he could blame it on paranoia caused by the situation as they are both standing on top of a staircase reminding him of the fall, it wasn’t that.

They needed to talk.

They couldn’t go on like this, one of them needed to do something to break their silence.

Augustine tried and was either met with nothing before or what had happened when they were in the car, it was only right that he began.

“..We can’t go on like this.” He began.

Augustine’s eyes shot up to meet his and Winnie’s, and for the first time in a while he felt familiar.

He continued talking, only pausing to take a breath knowing if he stopped he would freeze up. For the first time in years, he saw himself getting through to his friend.

When he finished, he saw the way Augustine’s lips quivered, the way he shook slightly, he looked the most fragile he ever has. Like a single gust of wind could break him apart. Winnie hated seeing the one he looked up to and loved so dearly look that way, knowing he was part of the reason only made him hate it more.

The dams broke as Augustine’s words spilled out, years of struggle being put before his very eyes.

His chest felt tight, he never thought actions he never thought much of hurt the other this badly, yet here he was listening to it all.

Responding was something he didn’t feel himself do, more truthful than he ever was.

Pouring their hearts out in his house while it was snowing indoors was never something either of them expected to do, but here they were.

“There’s nothing in this world that can replace you.”

“I’m sorry…! I’m really sorry…!”

“I should’ve respected your line…!”

“I should’ve thought about how you’d feel, I should’ve put myself in your shoes…!”

“But I was too blinded by admiration back then that-”

“I couldn’t see that you were my one and only friend before my hero!”

“It must’ve been so frustrating… It must’ve been so upsetting…!”

“You don’t have to forgive me, I know apologizing now won’t change the past…”

“But I just want you to know this…!”

Winnie could hardly process a single word coming out of his mouth, Augustine stood in front of him with his mouth agape taking in everything.

He took that as an invitation to continue.

“You are the coolest and brightest person I have ever met in my whole life, Augustine!”

“I was only able to do all the things I’ve accomplished so far because you encouraged me back then…!”

“Because you gave me hope. You work hundreds, thousands, million times harder than me… And I remind myself every day how lucky I am to have ever met a friend like you…!”

“...-You’re amazing like that!-..”

Winnie’s heart ached at every tear that dropped, the other tried to stop but he couldn’t. They momentarily panicked when he couldn’t breathe through the tears, but it was only expected after such a long time of bottling everything up.

Everything felt worth it again when he saw his smile.

The one he knew, the smile that drew him in from the start.

This was the Augustine he knew.

They had to get back to reality, if his theory was correct then he knew how to do so.

They just needed to hurry up before their time runs out, Winnie believed in them, they could do it together.

He finally felt complete again, the hole in his heart filled simply by a single conversation.

Maybe he didn’t regret thinking about love all these years, all he needed was a reminder.

A reminder was exactly what he got, and he could not be more grateful for it.

For the first time in years, they were truly friends.

They were not alone.

———————————————

It had been around 3 months since the car accident.

Since the two were trapped in an upside down car, experiencing a world made up of their own horrors.

Since they finally, truly became the friends they always thought they were.

The speech they had, the chance to finally bond again and come clean about everything, took so much more weight off of Augustine's shoulders than he could have ever imagined it would. Sure, the cost was a broken leg, but it also meant that Winnie got to stay longer too.

Augustine could never describe how it felt looking at his friend again, finally seeing a friend rather than a competitor. Someone to relax around again rather than someone he was inferior to. Winnie did all he did to be like him of all people and all he saw were false attempts to tear him down and take his place.

Part of him can’t imagine that anymore, the same part that yearned to talk to Winnie again since the accident the winter before that. The same part that kept him up at night about not helping, not doing something, anything to help him when he fell down those stairs and broke his legs.

He had one broken leg and support yet he was still struggling, still healing from the consequences of it. It had made for a fun joke though, making Winnie bring or do stuff for him because as the driver it was easy to blame him for the crash and therefore the break. At first Winnie looked incredibly guilty when it was brought up, going silent before apologizing so unlike himself. It took a few weeks to get him to see it as the joke it was, but when that worked he never got to live it down.

It wasn’t like he seemed to mind though, frequently asking Augustine if he wanted anything else after he brought up the idea of feeling like having something of any sort and getting up on his own, even if it was merely a passing thought or mood.

It was…nice.

What was not nice on the other hand was the days itching closer to the new moving date.

Augustine finally healed, which meant Winnie would be moving soon.

He would leave to go to the college they both wanted. Oddly, instead of sparking feelings of anger or envy this time, he felt more melancholic about the thought.

As the day came closer and closer, a sense of emptiness overtook him. Winnie was the same, they hung together a lot more than they have in the last few years as a whole, but the departure always felt wrong.

Despite their talk, they both knew there were still words unsaid between them. Neither of them had the guts to come clean about them, but they both knew something was still missing.

Augustine’s realization came when he felt funny after hanging out with Winnie for a while. The taller had gotten tired after their outing, falling asleep on him at some point during their conversation. He didn’t notice at first, too distracted going on about some topic that came up. He was a man of strong opinions, and those opinions he was gonna tell.

He only noticed when the sound of soft snoring reached his ears. The blond was fully leaned up against him, sound asleep.

This was..the most relaxed Augustine saw him in some time. It had been a long time since they were in a position like that, he never counted, though.

He couldn’t help but stare, a̶d̶m̶i̶r̶i̶n̶g̶ looking at the other. He had changed over the years (obviously), both mentally and physically as expected. He was a lot taller now, as opposed to the little height difference they had as children. Despite that and his generally bigger build, he still carried that gentle air around him, something he welcomed, really. A threatening Winnie didn’t sound very entertaining, he’d know by now.

Only after Winnie left did he realize how much..lighter? He had felt it. Something was different, but not in the same way as before. It was good, or at least so he thought. It didn’t feel suffocating or unfamiliar.

…He had fallen again, hadn’t he?

Augustine tried to push that thought away for days, as the thought of it made his brain hurt too much to think about it. He couldn’t be bothered and quite frankly preferred to ignore the existence of those feelings as a whole! And so that's what he did.

Winnie would move soon, the feelings would fade, they’d go back to just being best friends and he’d NEEEVER have to think about it again!

..or that's what he’d hoped, and oh how wrong he was.

The days passed fast. Faster than they should have, both of them hated it but time wouldn’t slow down for them. Afterall, it’s their own fault they didn’t speak for a long time, they lost their spark and almost burned down their friendship entirely out of their own stupidity.

That's why it didn’t feel real when they had to say goodbye. They may have nearly split apart, but they were always near. Winnie never felt as comfortable as he did with Augustine around anyone else, and Augustine never felt complete without him there.

It made his stomach churn.

“Don’t you dare end up falling down another set of stairs in that college will you? I can’t help you there to pay this back” The brunette half heartedly complained, visibly struggling to come up with anything to say.

“I won’t, I won't! You don’t set things on fire in exchange, deal?” Winnie giggled.

“That was ONE time-”

“One too many!~”

The sound of a car horn cut Augustine off before he could throw a witty response back at his companion, Winnie’s parents telling them to hurry up before they were late.

Whatever happy mood they were in dissipated as fast as it originally came along, both of them going silent.

“..You’ll come back eventually, right?” Augustine asked in a voice far quieter, smaller, than Winnie ever wanted to hear from him. It wasn’t right.

“Of course I will!” he shot back almost immediately, almost offended the other thought that at all. Really who did he take him for?

“Good, who else would praise elks for existing the same way you do every christmas?” Going back to the previous atmosphere and feel of their conversation felt better than keeping the heavy feeling their goodbye gave. At least one last bit of entertainment for them.

Though it couldn’t last long, Winnie’s parents were clearly getting impatient to the point both boys saw it without sparing them more than a simple glance.

“They’re still better than your bears, but we might need to continue this conversation another time, being late is hardly ideal for moving again, you know?” Although it was meant to be a joke, Winnie’s tone failed to convey that, sounding more down than anything.

“Stay safe on the car ride then you idiot”

“That's hardly up to me,but I can try?”

“Good, I’ll never let it go in the afterlife if you don’t” The eyeroll Augustine did could be felt, without even looking at him.

“I get it I get it, goodbye for now then? I’ll be back as soon as possible, I promise you” Tone changing from his usual up-beat one, Winnie gave his friend the last hug they would have for a long time.

Augustine didn’t hesitate to return the hug, hardly keeping himself together at all.

“I guess so”

“Do you not even want to say anything to me anymore? Im hurt</3”

Augustine sighed, his mind felt like too much of a wreck to process the events that followed.

They both had to separate as Winnie walked to his parents’ car, whatever washed over Agustine really decided to do so at the worst time possible because not even a moment after the other had turned around, he found himself blurting out the one sentence he was trying to avoid and forget about for months.

‘I love you’

Every part of him that hoped Winnie didn’t hear him was let down as he paused and turned to look at the brunette, who was processing the fact those words came out of his lips at all.

Opposed to what he was expecting, the one in blue smiled at him with a smile more genuine than he has ever seen from him.

“That will be something else we talk about when I come back” he said, voice maintaining the calm feel it carried with it earlier in the conversation.

“I- uhm- oka. Yes, it will be” Augustine stuttered, trying to gather his nerves and thoughts as fast as possible. What was that??

“For the record, I love you too”

With that, he turned and ran to the car, not hearing whatever the other said after him. Whatever he yelled out was a topic they were to tackle later.

Finally, after 6 years of pining, Winnie no longer felt strange.

His love was requited.

[nostalgicnarrator]

𝙾𝚞𝚝𝚕𝚊𝚠𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙻𝚊𝚠𝚖𝚎𝚗

───── ☾ ⍟ ☽ ─────

Word Count: 7736

Parings: Thorn X Bilbo

Description:

Thorin has had it with this outlaw.

───── ☾ ⍟ ☽ ─────

1 / 2 / 2.5 / 3

⚠️Warning⚠️

Mature content.

Note:

I put my cowboy hat on first this one, let me know if you want to see more. I might make it into a AO3 book if people want it enough.

───── ꧁✪꧂ ─────

The sun wasn’t even over the horizon when the knock came, loud and persistent, and far too early in the morning for Thorin’s liking.

He was in the middle of a deep, dreamless sleep. The knocks started quietly, just enough to stir him. But they didn’t stop. The knocking quickly turned to banging.

Thorin groaned loudly, dragging his hand down his face. And that’s how he found himself standing at his front door staring at a boy who shoved a paper in his hand.

Thorin half-expected some emergency, not some kid. The problem was that Ered was quiet most mornings, but it had its moments, so when someone comes banging on his door this early, it was usually serious.

Not for some paper. He raised his brow at the young man as he stood there, barely awake himself. The boy rubbed his eyes, swaying slightly as if he might fall asleep standing.

“Telegram for you, Sheriff,” the boy mumbled when he handed it over.

Thorin blinked at the offending piece of paper. It felt heavier than it should’ve, like it carried some kind of unseen weight. Something in his gut told him this wasn’t good, it felt… wrong.

He quickly read the message, his brow furrowing as his tired eyes tried to make sense of it.

꧁——————————꧂

꧁𝚃𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚖꧂

𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚂𝚎𝚗𝚝: 𝟻:𝟶𝟶…..𝚃𝚘: 𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚗 𝙾𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚕𝚍

𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚍: 𝟼:𝟹𝟶……

𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝙴𝚛𝚎𝚍.

𝙱.

꧁——————————꧂

Thorin stared at the telegram. “B,” he muttered to himself. Just a letter, no name. He turned the telegram over as if he might find some clue hidden on the back.

“Who sent this?” Thorin asked, glancing at the boy. Feeling about as annoyed as a wet cat.

The young man shrugged, still half-asleep. “Dunno. Just got handed it at the post office this morning. Told to deliver it.”

“Great,” Thorin muttered, running a hand through his hair. He shooed the boy away.

He all but slammed the door as he tossed the telegram paper on a table and stormed upstairs. His mind was unhelpfully loud and annoying.

He had no idea who “B” was, or why this person thought it necessary to bother him at this ungodly hour. And why a cryptic message about a train?

It wasn’t like trains were a rare occurrence in Ered. They’re not often eather, and when they did come through they had small shipments. But him getting the notice didn’t make sense. The mayor normally gets the notice about the trains, not Thorin.

He flopped over onto his bed and tried to go back to sleep. His mind rolled through thoughts of who could have possibly sent it.

At first his mind landed on Balin, but that makes no sense, first of all, Balin would’ve waited, second he wasn’t always needed when it came to deliveries. The few times he was, was when the bank got new bills in or gold shipments.

Besides, Balin didn’t deal in cryptic messages; he was direct, always to the point. So If it wasn’t Balin, then who?

He turned the letter over in his mind. Bofur? No, not likely. Bofur wasn’t much for secrets, the man would have blurted out whatever he had to say in the middle of town for all to hear. Probably would have burst into song about it if someone got a little liquor in him.

Bombur wouldn’t send it either, he got his shipments with his brother, and when he didn’t it came by wagon. Sure the man was shy but he knew Thorin and they’ve talked a few times.

Bifur? No, Bifur probably didn’t understand how telegrams worked, so it couldn’t be him. Thorin groaned and rubbed his face again roughly.

None of them would have done it. they all would’ve told him in person if they did actually need help, and at a more reasonable hour.

So it had to have come from outside of Ered. But who, in their right mind, would do this?

“First that outlaw,” Thorin grumbled under his breath. “And now this… I can’t catch a break.”

Thorin hadn’t even caught his breath from that whole disaster, the universe is out for his blood. He could feel it. Thorin sat back up with a huff, he decided to get ready for the day. It was clear he wasn’t going back to sleep any time soon.

And he could feel something was off about this whole situation. It nagged at him like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. The one thing Thorin had learned over the years was that trouble didn’t usually announce itself. It snuck up on you.

Thorin sighed heavily, he really didn’t want to deal with any more problems, he shoved his boots on and pulled his hair back before plopping his hat on his head. He was already tired, and the day hadn’t even started yet.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎︎ 𐬾 ༅ ༅ 𐬾 ☀︎︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Thorin looked up from his desk when Dwalin walked in, the man looked as exhausted as Thorin felt, he vaguely wondered if the deputy got a Telegram too.

That thought left him quickly when Dwalin looked at Thorin with confusion. Dwalin tossed his hat on his desk, it landed with a soft thud. The man slowly walked around to Thorin before he leaned back against the table. He crossed his arms. Dwalin flinched in pain as he did.

Thorin cringed as he saw, Thorin knew Dwalin wasn’t fully healed, but the man wouldn’t stay home no matter how much he was begged, bribed or told to. So Thorin let him keep working, (more like didn’t have a choice)

“Well, I’ll be,” Dwalin chuckled, eyeing Thorin. “What are you doin’ here so early? You usually ain’t this eager to start the day.”

Thorin sighed, his fingers tapped impatiently on the desk. Without a word, he picked up the telegram card.

“I’ve been debating whether to burn this thing in the stove or not all morning,” Thorin grumbled, handing the telegram over like it was the most offensive thing in fifty miles.

Dwalin took it with a smirk, glancing at the Telegram. His eyes moved to the card back to Thorin, then down to the card again. Slowly, he snatched it up and read it.

After a few moments the smirk slipped off Dwalin’s face, replaced with something more serious.

“What do you make of it?” Thorin asked, already half annoyed by the silence.

Dwalin narrowed his eyes, holding the card up to the lamp light as if checking for anything else. “Thorin,” he began carefully, “do you have any clue who this is from?”

Thorin leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands up in frustration. “No! I’ve been rackin’ my brain over it, and I can’t figure out who this ‘B’ is supposed to be!”

Dwalin paused and slowly turned his head to squint at Thorin. He shot Thorin a look that made the sheriff pause and stare back. “What?” He asked after a beat of silence.

The deputy let out a long, exasperated sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you stupid, or are you just playin’ dumb?”

Thorin straightened in his seat, the irritation from before coming back ten fold. “Excuse me?”

Before Thorin could get another word in, Dwalin cut him off, shaking the telegram at him. “It’s Bilbo, you idiot.”

Thorin blinked, surprised. His expression darkened. “Bilbo?” Granted he had started to think the same thing but- “That outlaw’s not that dumb! And, even if you were right, why would he sign the telegram? It’s too obvious.”

Dwalin rolled his eyes, tossing the card back onto Thorin’s desk. “He clearly wants you to know it’s him! -You really think someone else is gonna go through the trouble of sendin’ your dumb ass a message like this?”

Thorin crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw clenched. “It could be anyone. What's the point then? Why tell me about a train?”

Dwalin let out a grunt, standing up and grabbing his hat. “I’ll tell ya what-he’s tryin’ to get under your skin or he’s just fuckin’ with ya. And by the look of it, he’s succeedin’.”

Thorin bristled. “Where’s your proof?! I'm tellin’ you! If it was Bilbo, I’d know!”

Dwalin raised an eyebrow as he fixed his hat back on his head. “Fuckin’ shit Thorin! Ya really think Bilbo plays by the rules? Outlaws like him, they make their own rules. Now, we can either sit here and argue about it, or we can head to the train station to see if I’m right.”

Thorin’s eyes narrowed, his pride burning in him. He wanted to prove Dwalin wrong, but he couldn’t deny that there was something about this that gnawed at him.

Thorin stood up, grabbing his own hat and putting it on his head with more force than necessary.

“Fine, We’ll go. If this turns out to be nothin’, I’m holdin’ you responsible for draggin’ me out there.” Thorin grumbled as he stomped out of the office.

Dwalin smirked and quickly followed. “Oh Sheriff, I’m sure it’ll be well worth the trip.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎︎ 𐬾 ༅ ༅ 𐬾 ☀︎︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

They had been waiting for hours. Thorin checked the clock on the station wall and let out an impatient “tsk.” Dwalin, who was leaning against a wooden pole, glanced over at the noise.

“Ya gonna keep doing that every five minutes?” Dwalin asked, sounding frustrated.

Thorin got up from the bench he had been sitting on with a frustrated grunt. “We’ve been here for hours, and there’s no train. It's gettin’ hot, and I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast!”

Dwalin raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Ya sound like a child.”

Thorin shot him a glare, opening his mouth to retort. Another voice interrupted.

“Uncle!” Fíli yelled as he quickly came up the stairs. “There you are! Ma got worried when you two weren’t in the office.”

“Yeah! She brought lunch for you- unfortunately it must’ve mysteriously disappeared” Kíli said as he shrugged before he came over and stole Thorin’s hat.

The boy plopped it on his head and beamed at his brother. Thorin gave the boy an unimpressed look and snatched his hat back. “Uh-huh sure it did. Tell your momma I’m sorry, but we’re waitin’ on a train so-“ Dwalin interrupted.

“I’ll tell you what we’re waitin’ on, we’re waitin’ for that outlaw, Bilbo.“ the deputy said as he glared at Thorin.

“Ohh! That explains the telegram then!” Kíli said as he nodded very seriously.

Fíli paused for a second then slowly looked at Kíli. “What telegram Kee?”

“The one on uncle’s desk! The B at the bottom makes so much more sense now-” Kíli tried to say, but he was quickly interrupted.

“What?!” Fíli shouted and whipped around completely to glare at his brother. “You saw that and didn’t think to tell ma or me?! Kee!!”

Kíli put his hands up in mock surrender “Well if I did, I wouldn’t of been able to eat lunch! And it didn’t seem like a big deal!”

“It couldn’t have been a bigger deal! What if uncle had gone out after him! No one would have known anything! You know he doesn’t tell anyone anything!”

Thorin decided to stop them when Fíli’s hands started twitching. He knew his sister would like to keep both her sons in mostly one piece

“Alright-alright! you two that’s enough-” but then there was a distant screeching noise. Thorin turned to look.

There was a low rumble too, that started to fill the air as a train moved closer, Thorin could see the billowing of smoke in the distance.

Dwalin stood up straighter, adjusting his hat. “Here it comes,” he said, he tilted his head as he watched the train. “…it’s movin’ fast. Too fast-“

Thorin frowned, watching the approaching train. The rumble grew louder each second that passed, the ground beneath them trembling as the train neared.

Dwalin was right, the train was going too fast, Thorin was pretty sure trains didn’t come barreling through stations like that, unless something was very, very wrong.

The train rocketed through the station in a blur of steam and steel, the air whipping around them as it shot past. Thorin barely had time to catch his hat as the force of the train sent a gust of wind blowing through the station’s platform.

Then, Thorin caught glimpses of human shapes through the windows of the passenger cars, people, civilians- were trapped in that train.

“Hell,” Dwalin muttered, his eyes widening. “You don’t think…”

“Were those?” Fíli asked quietly by Thorin’s side.

Thorin’s jaw clenched, his anger flared. Dwalin was right. Bilbo had sent the message, but this wasn’t just some ordinary train coming through town. This was a hostage situation.

As the end of the train sped past, Thorin’s eyes locked onto a figure standing on the roof of the rear car. His heart lurched when he recognized the figure, he was standing tall and confident despite the speed.

Bilbo Baggins, tipped his hat and bowed with exaggerated enthusiasm. When the outlaw looked back up, his eyes quickly met Thorin’s and Thorin felt a surge of anger and adrenaline. Even though he couldn’t see it Thorin could feel the smug smile on Bilbo’s face.

Dwalin let out a low chuckle that immediately had Thorin glaring at him, this wasn’t funny. “Told ya it was him.”

Thorin clenched his fists. “We don’t got time for this, Those people are in danger!”

Dwalin’s smirk faded, his eyes narrowing. “Right. I’ll gloat later.”

Thorin turned to his nephews. “Fíli your honorary deputy till I get back! Understand?”

Fíli stuttered a bit before quickly shouting after them. “What- but! Uncle wait”

“What about me!” Kíli whined with a huff.

“Tell your mother she’s sheriff if I don’t come back!” Thorin yelled as Dwalin mounted their horses.

Thorin kicked his heels into his horse’s side, urging her forward, and Dwalin was right behind him. The sound of hooves thundered against the ground as they raced after the train.

“What do you think his plan is,” Dwalin called out over the wind, giving another flip to his reins as they sped along the tracks.

But Thorin couldn’t answer, his focus was on the retreating figure of the outlaw. how Bilbo had managed this, he’d probably never know.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎︎ 𐬾 ༅ ༅ 𐬾 ☀︎︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Bilbo dropped down onto the Gangway, his boots hitting the metal with a soft thud. He straightened, dusting off his poncho unnecessarily.

The wind whipped around him still. With a quick motion, he stepped into the passenger car. And pulled his mask down. He took a deep breath and looked around.

The inside of the car was dimly lit, the lamps flickered as the train cars swayed dangerously. Bilbo took a moment to survey the “passengers.” Each seat was filled, but not with people, no, he didn’t want anyone to get hurt after all.

Instead the seats were occupied by dummies, dressed in old clothes Bilbo had managed to get from whoever he could, most only being shirts or old hats.

The figures sat still and lifeless, rocking with the cars their heads slumped forward as if they were sleeping. A few had faces sloppily drawn onto their cloth heads.

Bilbo smiled to himself, the sight of the dummies filling him with a sense of satisfaction. The ruse had worked perfectly. He had to give himself credit for creativity.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” He said as he glanced at the back of the car.

Bilbo’s eyes landed on his right-hand man, who was leaning back casually in one of the seats, his arms crossed. The man’s sharp brown eyes scanned the room with an approving nod.

“As impressive as it is crazy,” his right-hand man said as he shook his head. “Are you sure it worked boss?” The man’s tone was light, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes.

Bilbo nodded, walking down the aisle between the dummies inspecting his work. “Oh, it worked. Trust me, Thorin’s the kind of lawman who can’t resist a baited hook.” Bilbo nodded to one of the Dummies as he sat down across from his right-hand man. “Especially if it involves a train full of ‘innocent’ passengers. He’ll be on board soon enough.”

“… Is this all really just to see if those stories about the sheriff hold water?” The man asked quietly as he leaned forward, giving Bilbo a strange look.

Bilbo tapped the man’s hat. He quickly moved to fix his hat with a grumble. “You, my dear friend, worry too much,” Bilbo said with a sly smile. “You know how people love to blow things out of proportion”

His right-hand man smirked back. “I don’t have anyone else to worry over B, and you happen to be the most worrisome thing in my life”

Bilbo rolled his eyes and sighed. He leaned back against the seat, the smile fading from his lips as his usual bravado slipped away. “I’m sorry.” He muttered.

His right-hand man looked over, “What for, B?” He asked, he sounded concerned. “You didn’t do anything”

“For making you help me again… I didn’t realize so much of your old life was waiting for you in that town. If I’d known- I should have known…” Bilbo trailed off, glancing down.

The right-hand man waved it off, letting out a quiet sigh. “No need to apologize for that, boss man. Neither of us knew, and it doesn’t matter now. I’d, without a second thought, go back there if you needed me to.”

Bilbo looked up at the man, He let a smile slip back on his face “I won’t make you go back there again, not unless you want to.”

They sat in silence for a beat, a moment passing between them. Then, with a sharp inhale, Bilbo stood, his grin turning more playful. “Come on, if we don’t hurry, they’ll catch up.”

“Right.” His right-hand stood up and readjusted his hat again to hide his face more. He followed after Blibo as the two men began to make their way further up the train.

“I want Thorin and Dwalin to feel… welcomed when they finally decide to hop aboard.” Bilbo looked back and smiled at his right-hand.

The man nodded. “As welcomed as they can be on this train anyway, all the muscle is in place…”

“Good,” Bilbo said with a satisfied nod. “Let’s make sure everything runs smoothly. I don’t want anyone dying on my train”

“Yes sir boss man,” the man hummed. “Paid off the conductor yesterday. He’ll take us straight through without any interruptions, if he can help it. And the thugs owe us a favor”

Bilbo nodded, “good, then let’s get moving, we need to make sure we can get to the engine to escape.”

The right-hand man shook his head. “You really are crazy Bilbo.” With that, the two of them made their way to the front of the train, the dummies sitting silently in their seats as the train rattled on through the open plains, waiting for the inevitable.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎︎ 𐬾 ༅ ༅ 𐬾 ☀︎︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The landscape blurred as Thorin and Dwalin raced behind the train, their horses being pushed to their limit. The wind howled past them, tearing through their clothes as they thundered over the open plains.

Thorin could feel his heart pounding in time with the rhythm of everything; the gallop of hooves, the rattling train wheels.

Ahead, the train barreled forward, the smoke from its engine trailing behind like a dark cloud. It cut through the open land, speeding forward.

Thorin looked ahead and saw a narrow bridge over a large river, he cussed under his breath and turned his head towards Dwalin. “Dwalin! We need to get on that train! Now!” He shouted as loud as he could.

Dwalin gave a sharp nod and spurred his horse, digging his heels into his horse’s side. His horse surged forward, cutting through the wind as Dwalin leaned low like a horse racer.

Dwalin reached out, his fingers brushing the iron handle on the back of the caboose car, he pushed himself forward, then the train’s wheels screeched loudly as it hit a sharp curve, the cars swaying dangerously from side to side.

He missed the handle and as he was about to fall, in a moment of panic, grabbed the railing with his other hand. The force pulled him out of his saddle, with a grunt of pain Dwalin hauled himself up.

The second his boots finally hit the metal platform with a heavy thud he had to use the railing to keep himself upright. He stood there for a moment, catching his breath, wincing as he gripped his shoulder.

He looked behind him and turned. He shouted over the roar of the wind and train. “Thorin!” He reached out his hand and Thorin nodded.

Thorin's horse struggled to keep pace even before he leaned forward and spurred his horse to go faster. She tried to run faster but Thorin could feel her falter. He leaned out, reaching for Dwalin’s outstretched hand.

Dwalin surged forward, grabbing Thorin’s wrist, and with a powerful yank, he pulled the sheriff off his horse. Thorin’s stomach lurched as he left the saddle, but before he could process the motion, his feet slammed onto the platform of the caboose. He stumbled for a second, but quickly found his balance.

Their horses fell back. But they kept following the train at a slower speed. The train roared onto the narrow bridge and the horse broke off to cross though the river instead.

For a moment, the two of them just stood there, breathing heavily. Dwalin still leaned heavily against the railing, clutching his shoulder.

Thorin glanced at him. “You alright?”

“Yep.” Dwalin grunted, he didn’t even look up.

“You sure? That didn’t look-” Thorin tried to ask but snapped his mouth shut when Dwalin glared at him.

Dwalin gritted his teeth. “Ask me one more stupid question, and I’ll slap you upside the head.”

Thorin raised his hands in mock surrender, “Fine. Relax.”

They stood there in silence for a beat, the bridge speeding past beneath them, the clatter of the wheels filling the air. Thorin looked down at the tracks, watching the blur of the river below, before turning back to Dwalin.

“That was close,” Thorin muttered.

Dwalin let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “the word close isn’t the right word for what that was”

Thorin nodded, glancing toward the train. He exchanged a look with Dwalin, who took a steadying breath before pushing himself off the railing. “Come on, let’s move,” Thorin said.

With a little difficulty, they managed to budge the door that leads inside open. The car was a mess, crates and tools had been thrown around. They carefully made their way through the clutter, checking any would-be hiding places before heading into the passenger cars.

The moment they entered the passenger car, Thorin’s instincts kicked in as he dodged a fist, pulling Dwalin with him. The man was burly, his face set in a seemingly permanent sneer.

he swung again, his heavy fist straight at Thorin. He barely had time to react before the punch connected with his jaw, sending him staggering backwards. He forced himself to recover quickly.

The sheriff squared himself up and threw his own punch, landing a solid hit to the man’s gut. He quickly dodged the next punch and threw another.

Meanwhile, Dwalin found himself face-to-face with a different goon on the opposite side of the car, he was a lanky man with a crooked grin. Dwalin tried to square his shoulders but hissed in pain instead.

He grabbed at his shoulder but the goon lunged didn’t even give him a second to breathe as he swung at Dwalin hard, he quickly put his arms up and blocked.

Thorin, after a few rough exchanges, managed to kick the man in his stomach to force him on his knees before landing a hard jab at the back of the man’s head. The man dropped like a bag of bricks.

Thorin stood there for a moment breathing heavily, he turned to see Dwalin wrestling with his own opponent. Thorin rushed over, landing a quick blow to the man’s side, allowing Dwalin to finish him off.

As they caught their breath, Dwalin let out a sudden laugh. “You’ve gotta be kidding me…”

Thorin turned, confused, only to see what Dwalin was laughing at. stuffed dummies, dressed in old clothes, sparsely sat in the passenger seats. They definitely looked like real passengers from a distance.

Thorin growled and frowned. “Bilbo! Damn that outlaw! Damn him!” he muttered under his breath, stomping through the car, checking each seat as he went. He flipped over one of the dummies in frustration, gritting his teeth.

“Looks like you’ve been had, Sheriff,” Dwalin teased, his voice still strained.

Thorin decided to ignore his deputy, and he straightened up. “We need to keep moving.”

Just as the words left his mouth, the door behind them slammed open. A group of Bilbo’s thugs barreled into the car, guns drawn.

They all stood in stock still. Thorin blinked in surprise before barking, “Move!” As his hand darted to his gun. He shot at the wall behind the men and the goons ducked away. Dwalin and Thorin bolted past them and into the open car the men just came from.

They bolted through the cars as fast as they could, dodging bullets and scrambling over overturned dummies. The train jolted beneath them.

As they ran, Thorin’s eyes darted to the narrow gap between the gangway’s. He knew they couldn’t keep running like this if they didn’t shake the outlaws soon, they’d be overrun.

Thorin glanced back, then quickly shoved his gun back in its holster before grabbing hold of the lever that would uncouple the rear passenger cars. He heaved it downward with all his strength.

There was a metallic clank followed by a sudden lurch as the cars separated from the rest of the train. Thorin and Dwalin stood there catching their breath, watching as the uncoupled cars slowly drift away.

Thorin sighed heavily and turned to Dwalin, “Let’s go,” Thorin muttered, stepping back into the remaining cars. There were only a few more left now. The train began to pick up speed at the lost weight.

Inside, the car was eerily quiet. The stillness was unsettling, the only sound the faint creaking of the train as it rattled along the tracks. Thorin’s eyes scanned the room. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something, or someone, was watching them.

Dwalin stood beside him, his hand resting on the hilt of his gun. “This feels off,” he whispered to Thorin. Thorin nodded and took a step forward.

Then a low chuckle echoed from behind them, sending a cold shiver down his spine.

They spun around, Standing behind them in the doorway they just came from was Bilbo, his face covered by his handkerchief. His eyes gleamed with amusement, and he leaned casually against the wall, as if this were all just a game.

Thorin’s jaw clenched as he glanced toward the other end of the car, his stomach sinking when he saw Bilbo’s right-hand man standing there, blocking their only other way out. They were trapped.

Dwalin moved closer to Thorin, their backs pressed together, as they quickly drew their weapons. Bilbo and his right-hand man drew their weapons in return, both of them moving with ease, as if they had done this a hundred times before.

The four of them stood at a standstill, guns pointed at one another, the tension in the room thick enough to cut.

“Well, well,” Bilbo said, his voice dripping with mockery. “Look what we have here. The fearless Sheriff Oakenshield and his trusty deputy, running through my train like children playing tag.”

“Fucking, god damn it,” Thorin cursed under his breath.

Bilbo’s grin widened beneath the handkerchief. “Now, now, Sheriff,” he said with a teasing lilt. “No need for foul language. Why don’t you be a good little lawman and take a seat? You look like you’ve had quite the day.”

“Not happenin’,” Dwalin growled, his voice low.

Bilbo sighs and rubs his forehead. “You two really are a headache, you know?”

Thorin kept his eyes locked on Bilbo, his mouth moved before his mind could stop him. “Why?” he asked, his voice surprisingly steady. “Why the train, the dummies? What’s your game this time, Bilbo?”

Bilbo’s eyes glinted with amusement as he let his hand drop away from his head, he raised a brow. Why?” he repeated back playfully. “I got bored, Sheriff. It’s as simple as that.” Bilbo shrugged.

Thorin felt the bubbling of frustration again. “You expect me to believe that? You risked all this just because you were bored?”

Bilbo chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving Thorin. “Well, when you’ve lived the kind of life I have, boredom is the most dangerous thing. I like to keep myself entertained.”

“Entertained?” Dwalin spat angrily. “By messing with people? By running around killin’ and stealin’ from innocent folks?”

Bilbo shrugged. “Innocent, not so innocent. It’s all a matter of perspective. I do what I have to.”

Dwalin growled and moved to face Bilbo, Thorin’s grip on his gun tightened and he shot his deputy a look. “Enough! What do you really want, Bilbo?”

Bilbo’s grin widened. “Let’s just say I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. The legend of Sheriff Oakenshield. The man who never misses. So far, not impressed sheriff.”

Thorin’s eyes narrowed, his patience was wearing thin now. “You think this is some sort of game, but it’s not going to end the way you think.”

Bilbo tilted his head, his words taking a more serious edge to them. “Oh, I’m well aware of how this ends, Sheriff. But I think we both know it won’t be-.”

Without warning, Dwalin bolted forward, charging straight at Bilbo. Unable to move faster enough to dodge Bilbo, the deputy ends up crashing to the floor.

The two of them tumbled backward, their guns clattering to the floor as they wrestled, Throin blinked in surprise at his deputy.

The two men grappled furiously, fists flying and boots skidding on the train’s wooden floor. Dwalin, despite his shoulder, was relentless, using brute force to pin Bilbo down.

Dwalin was scrambling for his gun. He was able to snatch it up. Then, just as fast as Dwalin was, Bilbo's right-hand man pressed his gun to the side of Thorin’s head, the cold metal digging into the sheriff’s temple.

“Drop it, Deputy,” the man ordered, his voice ice-cold. “Unless you want to see how fast I can pull this trigger.”

Dwalin froze, his brows furrowed as his eyes darted between Thorin and the gun, his breathing heavy. He looked at his own gun then he muttered a curse under his breath and let his weapon fall to the floor with a clatter.

“Good boy, Now, let’s make this easy.” Bilbo sneered as he got back on his feet, he rubbed his jaw where Dwalin had hit him. Bilbo grabbed Dwalin’s gun and pointed it at him. “Move to the back, nice and slow. Don’t try anything stupid.”

Dwalin glared at Bilbo, his jaw clenched, but he did as he was told, stepping backward toward the rear of the train car.

Bilbo turned to his right-hand man who still had his gun to the sheriff’s head. Bilbo scooped up his own gun and holstered Dwalin’s

“Keep an eye on him,” Bilbo said, nodding to his partner as he took the man’s place. “Make sure he doesn’t try anything else.”

The right-hand man gave a curt nod, he trained his gun on Dwalin as he walked over to the man, his expression hard.

Thorin remained still, the different but not new weight of Bilbo’s gun pressing against his skull. He looked around trying to think his way out. “Why, Bilbo?” Thorin finally asked, just hoping to distract the man. “What’s the point of all this?”

Bilbo chuckled softly, though there was a hint of something else beneath the laugh. “Why not? It’s fun, isn’t it?”

“You call this fun? You risk innocent lives for fun?” Dwalin spat, glaring at Bilbo with open disdain.

Bilbo’s eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head slightly, his finger hovering dangerously over the trigger. “I’d be careful if I were you, Deputy. One more word out of you, and I might just throw you off this train.”

Dwalin’s mouth snapped shut, but his eyes burned with fury.

Thorin glanced sideways at Bilbo, searching for any opening, anything. “You’re not going to get away with this if you kill me, you know,” Thorin said, his voice low.

Bilbo grinned beneath his handkerchief, his grip on the gun unwavering. “Oh, Sheriff, I’m not going to kill you-” But just as Bilbo was about to say more, there was a sudden commotion behind them.

Bilbo’s right-hand man grunted in pain, Dwalin had slammed his elbow into the man’s face. The force of the blow sent them both reeling backward, and before anyone could react, the two men went tumbling out of the back of the train car.

“Dwalin!” Thorin shouted, his eyes wide with shock.

Bilbo’s face twisted in a mixture of horror and confusion. “What the hell just happened?” he muttered, his grip on his gun loosening as he stared in disbelief at the open door.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎︎ 𐬾 ༅ ༅ 𐬾 ☀︎︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Dwalin and Bilbo’s right-hand man tumbled to the ground in a heap, the impact knocking the wind out of both of them as they rolled to a stop in the dirt.

For a moment, they both just lay there, groaning in pain, trying to catch their breath.

The right-hand man rolled over onto his side, clutching his ribs. “What… the FUCK!” he gasped, dragging himself to his knees. “Are you fucking crazy or somethin’? You just threw us out of the back of a train!”

Dwalin was still trying to catch his breath. He spat on the ground and pushed himself to his feet, wincing as his shoulder twinged painfully. “I should be askin’ you that, outlaw,” he growled, “You started this mess!”

The right-hand man groaned, clutching his side as he staggered up. “Ugh! As pig-headed as ever! You could have killed us, you idiot!” He wiped some dirt from his face, glaring at Dwalin.

Dwalin squinted at him, feeling an unsettling flicker of familiarity. There was something about this man; his stance, his voice, Dwalin didn’t know, but it tugged at the back of his mind. “Who are you?” Dwalin demanded, his eyes narrowing.

The right-hand man made sure his mask was still covering his face, by some miracle it was but his hat was long gone. He huffed quietly. “Figured you’d have recognized me by now, Deputy,” he said, “Then again, I guess I didn’t make much of an impression back in the day.”

Dwalin’s jaw tightened, “You… I know you, don’t I?” Dwalin searched the man’s face, hoping to see anything familiar. He landed on the man’s wild Reddish brown hair but, He still couldn’t place it.

“Maybe you do. Maybe you don’t.” The right-hand man said, he cracked his knuckles. “It's too late now.”

Dwalin snarled and charged at him, his injured shoulder be damned. The right-hand man dodged, Dwalin’s fists were heavy, but the right-hand man was quick, ducking and weaving as best he could despite his own lingering pain.

They grappled. Dwalin landed a solid punch to the right-hand man’s gut, forcing the man to double over with a grunt. Before Dwalin could land another blow, the outlaw lashed out with a well-placed fist to Dwalin’s jaw.

The crack echoed as Dwalin staggered back with a hiss. Dwalin reached out for the man, the man scrambled back and made a dash for the distance tree line.

“Damn it!” Dwalin shouted, shaking off the hit and trying to give chase, but his body wasn’t cooperating. The outlaw disappeared as Dwalin stumbled and dropped to his knees, breathing heavily and cursing under his breath.

Wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, he groaned in pain and frustration, how could he let that outlaw slip away from him.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎︎ 𐬾 ༅ ༅ 𐬾 ☀︎︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

It hadn’t been more than a few moments since the two men had fallen from the back of the train car. Bilbo stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the open doorway, wide with shock. His heart raced, but his mind was scattered, unable to focus on anything but the image of his right-hand man and the deputy tumbling off the moving train.

For once, Bilbo couldn’t think clearly. The only thing he could focus on was the nagging concern. It was horribly foreign to him.

Dwalin and-… he couldn’t shake the uneasy worry of whether or not the two men survived the fall. He never left people behind, not if he had a choice. Even if they weren’t on his side.

Suddenly, without warning, Thorin slammed his elbow into Bilbo’s side. Bilbo yelped in surprise, the sudden pain knocking him off balance. Thorin punched him in the jaw, hard and Bilbo stumbled to the floor.

His gun slipped from his hand, clattering loudly onto the ground loudly. As it did the gun went off with a deafening bang. Thorin flinched, instinctively ducking, but the bullet never hit anything.

There weren't any bullets to hit things, Bilbo’s gun had been loaded with blanks, Bilbo could see the realization sparked in Thorin then the fresh wave of anger.

Bilbo held his face where Thorin had struck him, his mind reeling. His thoughts were muddled, he hadn’t expected this, not so soon. Pain throbbed through his jaw, his wide eyes locked onto Thorin’s.

“You-” Bilbo began, his voice rasping with both shock and disbelief, but before he could finish, Thorin was on him.

In a blur of motion, Thorin lunged forward, his hand gripping the front of Bilbo’s shirt with unrelenting force. Bilbo barely had time to react before Thorin slammed him against the nearest wall of the train car.

The impact made his brain rattle inside his skull, his back hitting the wall with a thud. A sharp, involuntary whine escaped him. Bilbo blinked rapidly, trying to catch his breath and clear his blurring vision.

Thorin’s grip on his shirt only tightened, hoisting him higher until his boots barely scraped the floor. The sheriff’s eyes were burning with a rage Bilbo didn’t expect, he could feel the anger radiating off the sheriff in waves.

For the first time in a long while, Bilbo wasn’t sure how to talk his way out of this. He wasn’t sure if he could talk his way out. Bilbo twisted in Thorin’s grip, kicking wildly as he tried to break free, cursing under his breath.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Thorin roared, his booming voice. Bilbo stared at him with wide eyes, “Do you ever take anything seriously?! Is this just some fucked game your playin’?!” Thorin’s eyes narrowed, “Answer me!” he demanded, giving Bilbo a sharp shake that left his head spinning.

But then, Bilbo felt a spark hit him. His struggling faded into nothing as he sized up Thorin, a calculating calm settling over him. He had an idea, it could either get him out of this or go horribly wrong.

Thorin loomed over Bilbo by at least a head or more, the sheriff had broad shoulders. Bilbo could feel every bit of strength in the way the sheriff held him pinned, like he weighed hardly anything at all.

There was no way he’d be able to overpower Thorin, let not like this. no way to just kick the man off him and run. So if brute force wouldn’t get him out of this, maybe charm would.

“Why, sheriff,” Bilbo purred, his voice low,“if you wanted to run me up against a wall this badly, all you had to do was ask.”

Thorin’s eyes widened, and Bilbo watched the sheriff’s grip falter, he let Bilbo down, a confused expression found itself in Thorin’s face. “What-”

Without hesitation, Bilbo drove his knee sharply into Thorin’s stomach. Thorin let out a grunt of surprise as the air rushed out of him quickly.

“Sorry, Sheriff!” Bilbo muttered, “nothin’ personal, really, your just not my type.” In one smooth motion, Bilbo scooped up his gun from the floor, even though he knew it was useless, and bolted for the door at the back of the train car.

Bilbo could hear Thorin cursing under his breath. He could also hear the pounding footsteps behind him as he climbed up the side of the train, hoisting himself onto the roof quickly.

The cold wind stung his face as he studied the hat on his head. Bilbo paused, glancing behind him, his gaze darting to where Dwalin and his right-hand man had tumbled off the train earlier.

Concern bubbled up inside him, worse than before. He didn’t want them to be hurt; he couldn't think about them being hurt.

“Bilbo!” Thorin’s voice carried over the roar of the train. Bilbo locked eyes with the sheriff, he was already running before the sheriff’s feet hit the roof of the car.

Bilbo’s heart pounded in time with the train’s wheels beneath him. His mind quickly searched for a way out. He briefly wondered if he’d survive if he jumped off. A little panic flickered in his chest as he glanced back, seeing just how close Thorin was.

Bilbo desperately wanted to push himself, to find some way out, but the roof was narrow, and there was nowhere left to go. His luck had run out, he had lost.

Thorin suddenly lunged, grabbing Bilbo by the arm, Bilbo twisted himself out of Thorin’s grip, he couldn’t just give up here, he couldn’t. He tried to duck under the sheriff's arms as he grabbed at the outlaw again.

The wind angrily whipped around them, the train car swaying beneath their feet.

Thorin managed to grab Bilbo’s poncho and gave a good yanked, dragging the outlaw backwards by the force. Bilbo twisted and kicked, but Thorin’s grip was relentless.

The sheriff had the upper hand. Bilbo grit his teeth as they continued to struggle atop the speeding train.

Then, without warning, Thorin’s foot slipped.

Bilbo’s eyes widened as he watched the sheriff lose his balance, his body teetering dangerously on the edge. Before Thorin could catch himself, he tumbled off the roof, hitting the tracks below with a heavy thud.

Bilbo froze, his breath catching in his throat as he scrambled to the edge, staring down at Thorin who was lying on the tracks. As the distance between them grew, all Bilbo could do was watch, his heart pounding in his chest.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎︎ 𐬾 ༅ ༅ 𐬾 ☀︎︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Thorin lay on the ground, groaning in pain, every muscle in his body burned and ached. Falling off a train was as bad as he thought it would be. His mind was still trying to catch up with what had happened when, faintly, he heard someone shouting in the distance.

“Thorin!”

It was Bilbo’s voice. There was an urgency to it, one that made Thorin’s heart skip a beat despite everything. He didn’t have time to think about why Bilbo was shouting at him, but instinct kicked in.

“Move!”

Without thinking, Thorin rolled to the side, just as the uncoupled passenger cars came speeding down the tracks, rattling by in a blur of metal. They hadn’t slowed down yet, and had Thorin stayed where he was, he’d have been flattened.

As the last car whizzed by, Thorin lay still, breathing heavily and trying to steady his pulse. He wasn’t sure how close it had been, but he wasn’t eager to find out.

Finally, he took a deep breath and sat up. His head pounded, and every inch of him hurt, but he was alive. His eyes drifted down to the tracks beside him, and that’s when he saw it, his hat. Or, what used to be his hat.

Thorin groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Another hat,” he muttered to himself.

With a wince, he forced himself to his feet, ignoring the sharp pain that shot up his side as he stood. His eyes scanned the tracks, searching for any sign of Dwalin. His heart pounded harder as worst-case scenarios flashed through his mind.

“Dwalin…?” He called as he limped down the tracks, his pace picking up despite the pain.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spotted Dwalin sitting near the edge of the tracks,he held his shoulder. Thorin hurried over, kneeling beside him.

Dwalin’s face was bruised up pretty bad, he had dirt stains all over him. Dwalin lifted his head when he heard Thorin. the deputy grunted in irritation more than pain.

“You look like hell,” Thorin muttered, quickly checking him over.

Dwalin rolled his eyes and grumbled. “Cause you look like prince fucking charming.”

Thorin frowned. “…Did you get him?”

Dwalin gave Thorin a look and tried to get up. “No. Bastard slipped away.” He winced as he tried to move his shoulder. “Got a good hit on me, and next thing I know, I’m eating dirt while he’s running off.”

Thorin cursed under his breath, glancing around. The train was long gone by now and the uncoupled cars were still slowing down in the distance.

Thorin offered a hand to Dwalin and pulled the man up easily, he couldn’t help but let his mind get muddled with thoughts. Bilbo tricked them, had them play his games. What was his angel, what was his plan.

But the loudest thought was one he couldn’t even begin to answer; Why did he save Thorin?

Dwalin noticed the look on Thorin’s face and shook his head. “You think too loud, Thorin. That outlaw’s not gonna slip away forever, we’ll get him.”

Thorin nodded. “Right, let’s get home,” Thorin said, he pushed down his frustration, he didn’t have time for it now.

With little difficulty, the two men limped down the tracks. Bilbo may have gotten away this time, but Thorin wasn’t going to let him for long. He had a plan.

───── ꧁✪꧂ ─────

And also, @shantismurf. Stop it, stop being so cleverly close. You don’t understand! You nearly put the nail in the coffin. You swong and you missed twice and if it weren’t for that, you would have put the damn nail in there.

@shurikthereject @midnightstar789

[For anyone Who didn’t want to @ for this please tell me or I will continue to do so till otherwise.]

[butididntpourthewhiskeys]

🤍 seven feet in the swing - I 🤍

As Taylor pushes open the door, the familiar creak feels heavier than usual, like a warning. The house is quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling studio she just left behind.

"Trav?" she calls out, her voice wavering slightly, but the only answer is the silence that envelops her. She sighs, drops her bag by the door. She sighs when she receives no answer, turns on the lights in the hallway and realizes that he's not home. The gym is locked by the alarm system. The lights are off. And it's not the same. It's not the same as it used to be when she came home from the studio, knowing he was in the city. The living room greets her with its disarray—pillows scattered, his stinky sweatshirt from his earlier workout hanging over one of their dining chairs. Her sigh bounces off the walls, but it's met with only the soft patter of paws coming from their hiding spots, weaving around her legs gently. She kneels down to scratch Olivia behind their ears. She smiles. In contrast to her sister, this cat will forever be happy to see her. 

"Where's dad?" she whispers to herself and the cat and gets up again, the phone she just placed on the dining table lighting up. 

Hey babe, I'll be home late. Got caught up with some stuff. Don't wait for me.

Stuff. She can imagine what that word implicates. He met up with a few of his buddies for drinks. A new habit of his that she wasn't used to up until last year. Last year when he hurt his knee bad enough to know that he won't be able to play for another cycle. Last year on that rainy day in Rhode Island, when she held him for hours, his face pressed against her chest, crying like a child, knowing that one of the most important times of his life would come to an end soon. She knows he's been struggling ever since he quit football, but it feels like he's pulling further away, like the distance between them has become a chasm. At first, she thought he just needed time to grieve the end of football. She thought he needed time to clear his head, get clear on what projects he wants to focus on post season. But then, he did get those projects kick started. He got the roles he wanted, he got the success he wanted and she's there. She's always been there, to celebrate and support him at every step of his way. But still, things are different. Old feelings of anxiety are slowly interrupting her dreams at night nowadays. Songs that once were about the deep feeling of happiness have slowly become more dark, angsty, melancholic. She's been here before. Right before she left London four years ago, she found herself in the exact same spot. Next to her partner, but feeling completely alone.

Taylor swallows, making her way into their bedroom. She can't think like that, can't always compare her relationship to past ones. She quickly turns on the little night light, yawns loudly as she sits down on her side of the bed and takes off her shoes. A lot has changed in this house since Travis moved in as well. Getting married has made it even easier to turn every single one of her houses into their house. A bigger bed, more space for his sneakers and a new wallpaper are lighting up the room. It's not just her space anymore, it's his space too. And she'd be lying if she said she didn't love it. She loves sharing her life with this man. From the moment he made her laugh for the very first time, almost exactly three years ago, Taylor knew that her heart would never be the same. He opened up areas of her soul she thought were closed up forever. He brought nothing but joy, excitement and magic into her life and she wants to be the same for him, especially now where he's the one dealing with some hard stuff. 

Taylor yawns once more, changes into one of his t-shirts that she usually sleeps in and enters their shared bathroom. It's not even ten o'clock but she's absolutely exhausted, which is not typical for her at all. She's usually a night owl, having a completely different sleep rhythm to most people she knows, which entails going to bed more often when the lights come out and sleeping well into the afternoon. She's gotten a lot better after the eras tour has ended, but going to sleep at ten o'clock is early, even for her. 

Taylor reaches for one of her hair clips to stick up her hair a little before washing her face with warm water. A few minutes later she's brushed her teeth, moisturized her face and sighs slightly annoyed when picking up some of Travis' socks that he managed to toss right underneath the sink instead of simply placing them in the laundry basket. She still doesn't understand why that's so hard? With cold hands and a few cramps in her stomach, Taylor turns off the light in the master bathroom and sneaks under the sheets of their shared bed. She reaches for her phone and checks her emails for a moment. Benjamin has just made his way onto the soft bedsheets and Taylor just caresses the soft fur for a moment.

"I know. Dad is coming home late. We can go to bed already.." she mumbles to the little cat that confusedly starts to pull at Travis' side of the bed.

A few moments later, she closes her eyes, fighting sleep until her body just gives in.

___

Taylor wakes up all of the sudden, a loud bang of the front door causing her to sit up in bed upright. She feels dizzy, slightly nauseous from having been taken out of her deep sleep all of the sudden. Her night light is still on, and even the cats are looking at her confused. Trav's side of the bed is still empty. She swallows. Her hair in all directions, her eyes puffy from sleep.

"Trav?" she yells tiredly, realizing quickly that the loud bang of the door must have been her husband coming home, finally. She checks her phone quickly. 1:37am. She can't believe he is just now coming home. For a moment, she can't hear anything from downstairs. He also didn't answer her, which is absolutely unlike him.

"Baby?" she tries one more time. No answer. Taylor feels panic arise in her. She's alone in the house. If this was Travis, he would've replied to her already. Just when she reaches for her phone to give him a call is when she hers footsteps coming up the stairs and towards the bedroom.

"Travis?" she yells again, no answer. Immediately, Taylor feels her hands getting sweaty. Her breathing pattern becomes faster and more shallow. Someone broke into the house. She needs to call security, right now, before whoever this person is gets to her. With shaking hands, she tries to unlock her phone, but fails. Panic builds up in her like a tidal wave. This is it. The person who intruded her home will be in this room in less than two seconds. For a moment, she feels helpless. A whining cry emerging from her mouth all of the sudden when she starts to rummage the drawer next to her bed for her pepper spray. This is it. Her biggest nightmare is coming true. She can feel Benjamin jumping from his spot, seeming to feel the fear radiating from her. And just when she was about to scream, he just stands in the doorway. Him. The big, tall guy she knows so well. Within a second, she starts crying and he looks at her with utter confusion.

"Tay, what.."

"Why didn't you answer?!" she sobs yelling, immediately getting up. She feels so ridiculous all of the sudden. Ridiculous, ashamed, angry.

"What do you mean?" he just asks, standing there in his sweats in confusion, taking one of his AirPods out of his ears.

"I heard you come home and I called you and you didn't answer!" she says, tears streaming down her face. She's angry. Angry and terrified. For a moment, she really feared for her life.

"I.. I had my headphones in listening to a podcast. I'm sorry, babe. I didn't hear anything when I.."

"You know how scared I get when I'm alone in the house and.."

"Tay, I swear to god, if I had heard you, I would've.." "You can't just walk up the stairs in the middle of the night and not let me know that it is you." she says then, standing in front of him in nothing but his oversized tee, her long hair curly and in all directions, arms crossed and tears rolling down her cheeks. He feels horrible all of the sudden, notices her hands shaking uncontrollably when she tries to wipe away the tears from her cheek.

"Fuck, I.. I'm so sorry, Tay. I wasn't thinking..."

He's glad she's not yelling anymore. Glad she seems to listen finally.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I really didn't mean to scare you. Come here." he mumbles, immediately pulling her in for a tight hug. His face quickly finds the spot he calls his home. His face in the crook of her neck, the smell of her skin entering his nose and wandering up to his blood stream. Coming home means coming to her. How could he ever forget. How could he forget this feeling for just a second? 

"I'm so so sorry, sweetie." he whispers into her skin a few times, beardy kisses tickling her neck. But all she does is hold on to him with closed eyes. She's safe again. She's finally safe again in his arms.

Travis pulls back, his two hands landing on her cheeks. She can see the shock in his eyes, too. He really didn't mean to scare her. She knows. Her hand wanders to his and she nods, her chin still trembling from before. Travis slowly leans down to plant his forehead against hers. He feels her take a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. He gives her a few seconds, then comes closer to kiss her lips. For a moment, she enjoys his proximity. But then, she notices something else. A very particular smell.

"Have you been smoking?" she asks then, has pulled back and looks at him in confusion. Smoking weed is something he struggled with in school and college, she knows. But it's been something he has done only twice since she knows him. Both times were the night out after winning a Superbowl - a good excuse to pretty much do anything you would like to do to celebrate for the night. But aside from that, Travis pretty much stays away from anything intoxicating at all times. She knows that ending his career as an athlete means more food and alcohol freedom, but she isn't used to him coming home at almost two in the morning on a Tuesday evening smelling like weed. She knows she guessed right, when he just lets go off her face, takes a few steps around the bed to his side, and starts to take off his watch.

"Maybe." he says, and he knows she doesn't like it.

"Uhm.. okay, why?"

He looks at her in pure disbelief, letting out a low hissing sound and shaking his head.

"You're asking me why I smoked?" he says, and she knows this is not a question. He's mad at her for asking. And she's having none of it. Her arms are crossing instantly.

"Yes, I'm asking why you decided to smoke weed on a Tuesday evening."

"Well, mom, I went to celebrate my friend's Parker's fortieth birthday and we tried some of his cigars and then had some weed later on. Is that a problem for you?"

"Why didn't you take me to your friend's birthday party?" she clearly hates the fact that he just called her 'mom' but she won't get into this now. She doesn't understand why he didn't tell her about his plans earlier today. Doesn't understand why he didn't ask her to join him, the way he usually always does. 

Travis just snorts amusedly at her earlier comment, tiredly rubs his eyes while taking off his shirt.

"Baby, this was a boys only thing. None of the guys had their spouses there."

"Okay." she just replies, tries really hard to not make a big deal out of this. And she usually wouldn't. Two years ago, she would've welcomed him with open arms, giggling into his chest over the fact that he smells like an Irish pub on a week night. She would've asked him to walk half naked on a line to prove his alleged sobriety and probably couldn't wait to feel his naked body weight on hers in bed finally. This is how the old Taylor would have reacted. The version of herself that was imminently, ridiculously and uncontrollably in love with this man. Her best friend. Her man. Her future husband. 

The love of her life.

But two years ago, things were different than they are now. There were no texts left unresponded. No weekends in the same city spent apart. No absent of sex for over a week while sleeping in the same bed every night. He's depressed, absent, not himself at the moment. She knows. But she misses him. She misses his smile, his big hands, the happy sparkle in his eyes. She misses the man who always made an effort to be his best version for her. Not the shell of a person she finds standing across the room from her now. Absent, annoyed, almost...cold. 

She swallows, just watches him get ready for bed. 

"I thought you had to fly to LA tomorrow morning?" she asks then, following him into the bathroom where he stands half naked in front of the sink, brushing his teeth with two left hands. He's still high as hell, and there's no denying it. She can tell.

"Yup. Meetings."

"When are you gonna be back?"

"On the eleventh." he mumbles with his toothbrush in his mouth.

"Great. So you'll be gone for a good week and this is how we spend our last evening." she murmurs, obviously hurt and just steps bare feet back to bed. He sighs, rolls his eyes for a moment and follows her to bed as soon as he's dried his face.

"Tay, it's a week. I'm not going away for a month."

She doesn't say anything, just turns off her little night light and tucks herself into bed, facing away from him. She's annoyed, and he can tell. But he's way too out of it right now to have a serious conversation with her right now. It's not a big deal, and he doesn't understand why she has to turn this into one.

Travis snuggles into the sheets as well, sets his phone alarm and turns off the lights on his side, too. He lets himself fall into his pillow, then moves his arm to hold her close. From behind, his lips find their way back into her hair and remain there, kissing her head a few times.

"I'm sorry, baby. Don't be mad at me." he whispers and she sighs. She's not angry, she's sad. For whatever reason, all she can feel is worry and sadness.

"I'm not mad." she whispers back, her hand landing on his that is wrapped tightly around her torso. "I just miss you." she says then and he doesn't react, his lips stealing her naked shoulder one kiss. "I'm right here. I'll always be right here, Tay." he replies and she stays silent for a moment. 

"You're not." 

Travis doesn't move for a moment, then turns around in bed and managed to turn on the little night light again. 

"What's up?" he asks again, now sitting up in bed and looking at her. She's got watery eyes and he has no idea what is going on with her. She also slowly sits up now, her curls standing in all directions, which he loves so much. 

"Nothing. I just.. I'm worried about you." she says then, and he looks at her in confusion. 

"Why?" 

She hesitates for a moment, can't believe that he doesn't feel it, too. He must feel that something has changed, that their relationship has changed. But instead, he acts like it didn't. 

"I don't.. I don't feel as close to you anymore as I used to." she finally gets out, her eyes hyper focused on her hands now, her voice on the verge of breaking. She doesn't know where these emotions are suddenly coming from, but they're there. They're there and she feels them stinging in her chest. 

"Tay, what.. what are you talking about?" he replies now, feels worry rise in him for the first time tonight. He doesn't know where she's going with this, but for a moment it scares the living hell out of him. 

The blonde looks up at him, a little tear escaping her eye and making its way down her cheek. 

"I know that.. that you're just getting used to this new schedule of.. of no football and refocusing your life, and.. and I'm so proud of you." she says, her voice shaky but steady. She looks into his eyes, for the first time really tonight, a slight smile on her lips. 

"I'm really so proud of you and excited for what's to come. But.. sometimes, I feel like we're drifting apart, Trav. And.. and it scares me so much.." she murmurs, her voice breaking in the end. And he can't believe it. He can't believe her mind would even go there. 

Travis watches her pick her fingers and places his hands on hers, interlocking both of her hands with his. 

"Baby, we're not drifting apart. I love you." he says, looking deep into her eyes and she nods for a moment. She's still not happy and he knows it. 

"I know. And I love you, too." 

He sighs for a moment, hates to see her like this.

"Why do you think we're drifting apart? Where does this come from?" he asks, confusion and worry in his voice. She picks up on that quickly, and in some way it relieves her. He still cares. He really does. 

"I think.. I think our relationship has changed, which.. which is normal. I think the time leading up to.. up to getting married is always exciting and magical and then once that's over you sort of fall into this low where.. where things slow down and a marriage begins, and.. and life becomes normal again. And, trust me, I love that. I love just.. living life with you as my husband. It's just.. we never used to fight and we do now. And I know that's normal for couples, but.. we didn't have sex all week, Trav. All week. And.. this has been going on for months now. This.. this is the first time in three years, where..." 

He sighs, and she can't tell whether he's angry. All she can feel is him letting go off her hands and it breaks her heart for a moment. 

"Tay, I've told you that this has nothing to do with you or us, I.. I'm stressed. I.. I can't do it when my mind is just.. so busy. I-" he stops talking and this time, she's the one coming closer again. She gently places her small hands on his. She knows, she nods. 

"Hey, I know. I'm sorry for bringing it up. I just wish I'd know what is going on in your mind, so I can help you. You.. you always used to let me in. I just... I want you to let me in again." she said, got more and more quieter in the end. He looks into her eyes, for real for the first time tonight, and the look he gives her almost breaks her soul. Tears form in his eyes, his chin starts trembling as he starts to speak but stops again for a moment, trying to collect himself. She immediately places her hand on his cheek, won't stop looking at him. This is him opening up. This is him finally opening up.

"I just feel so different, Tay." he then gets out, his face sunk, a first tear meeting her hand on his cheek. "I'm not.. I'm not me anymore since..." 

She nods, immediately. She knows what he means and she feels his pain as if it was hers. 

"I know, baby." she just says, doesn't argue with him, doesn't force him to be fine again. She's just here, sitting on his lap in the middle of the night, holding his face and listening to him crying. 

"Everything feels so meaningless. I used to be.. like.. great at something. Now, I'm mediocre at everything. And.." 

"You're not mediocre, Travis." she says, almost mad for a moment that he would talk about him like that. "You're.. funny, charismatic, smart. Things that.. things that people go to acting school for comes to you naturally. That's not.." 

"I just.. I just don't think I want to be an actor, Tay." he says then, his eyes desperate and lost, just looking at her for help. She's never heard him say these words and in a way, she never thought they would ever cross his lips. This has always been his plan. Ever since she met him, this was his post-football plan. 

"That's okay." she just says, her hand still caressing his stubbly cheek. "Whatever you want to do, I'm with you. I'm not team Chiefs, or team Actor, I'm team Trav. Whatever you want to do, baby, I will support you." she reassures him and he nods, just sinks his head. For a moment, she comes closer to him and kisses his forehead gently. She can feel his grip tighten around her torso. He needs her. He pushes her away when in reality he needs her more than ever. 

"I just don't even know what I want to do. I'm just.. lost." he whispers, half to himself, half to her. She swallows. This is officially the lowest she's ever seen him. And it scares her. It scares her to witness the rock of her life to be so helpless and small all of the sudden. 

"You're not lost. You're here. With me." she whispers, her hands now on his shoulders, forcing him to look up. She forces a smile to reassure him, then places another kiss on his head. 

"You're more than your career, Trav. It's okay to get some distance to it all. Let's take a break together. Let's.. travel somewhere, just you and me." she says, her eyes full of stars for a moment when imagining him and her on adventures together. It reminds her of the summer two years ago when he followed her around Europe for tour. Late night walks through Italy, bike rides at night in Amsterdam, laughing with him at the sausage museum in Germany. He's always been her favorite person in the whole world and she would do anything, take him anywhere, just to see his smile one more time. 

"I don't know, Tay. I don't think running away will help me. Or us." he just gets out and it sobers her for a moment. 

"Maybe this is it, Trav." she says then, can't believe her brain has gone there. But it did. And she even found the courage to let these words slip her mouth while looking into his eyes and being so close to him. 

"What?" he whispers, because she's so close. Their noses are almost touching and he loves to feel her hot skin under his shirt that she's wearing. 

"Maybe this is.. this is the time where.. we actually do what we always used to talk about." 

"Why do you talk in riddles, Swift?" 

She snorts laughing nervously for a moment, her hands playing with his hair, then wiping away one last tear from his cheek. 

"Let's make a baby." she says, nervously biting her own lip. He just looks at her in shock and confusion. 

"You... what?" 

She smiles, takes a deep shaky breath. "I.. I don't know, but.. we always said once you retire and we're married we would start a family. And.. lately, I don't know. I just.. I feel ready, Trav. I'm not scared anymore. I want us to be an actual family. Not just us and the cats. Just.. a real family. And before you, I could never see myself even wanting that. But maybe, you being unsure where to go next, and me just.. trying out stuff in the studio without direction.. I don't know, maybe this is the right time to.." 

"Have you absolutely lost your mind?" he just says and for a moment, she feels like she didn't hear him right. 

"What?" she says in shock, as he already has let go off her and left the bed, leaving her in between the sheets cold and alone. 

"You.. you must have absolutely lost your mind for saying this." he mumbles, angrier than she's ever witnessed him, pacing up and down their bedroom, trying to make sense of what she just said. "What.. Trav, why.." 

"I'm.. I'm sitting here, in your arms like.. like a goddamn looser. Crying like a little girl, telling you how lost I'm feeling and.. and you tell me this is the right time for me to become a father? Are you.. are you even serious right now?" 

She looks at him in shock, pain swelling in her chest and tears filling her eyes once more. 

"I don't see why you wouldn't be a good father, Trav."

"That's not the fucking point!" he yells at her and for the first time in her life, she gets scared. Scared of his tone, scared of his anger, scared of how unexpected he reacted. It's quite the opposite of how he used to make her feel. Quite the opposite of the familiarity and emotional safety she used to know when it came to him. 

"Stop yelling at me. I'm scared." she mumbles with a shaky voice and he just stops wandering around the room, his hands covering his eyes. He nods. 

"I'm sorry for yelling." he says then and she can hear in his voice that he's tearing up. She's shocked. This is not her husband. This is not the person she knows and loves so deeply. 

"Tay, this.. I just can't believe you would think that this is.." 

"Why not? Why is it so fucking wrong of me to suggest this? I'm almost thirty-seven. I can't.. I won't be able to get pregnant forever. And you know that. And.." Taylor is the one getting loud and emotional now, almost unable to stay in bed. She's shaking, her entire body feeling the anxiety of this moment. This was their plan. Why is he not sticking to their plan. 

"Trav, I know you're struggling at the moment. And you know I'm here for you. But.. your reaction to me suggesting this, is just.. shocking." she says, a first tear rolling down her cheek. She swallows, looks at him with begging eyes. Begging for him to become her everything again. Begging for him to fall on his knees, apologize, and tell her he can't wait for them to have a baby. That he was wrong. That he's just scared. 

But none of that happens. 

He just sits down on her bedside, still unable to look at her. But he has calmed down. His voice quiet and steady now. 

"Tay, you know I love you. You know I want to have kids with you. I just... I'm not ready to become a father right now when my career is just.. a fucking mess. This is the first season I won't be playing. I have no clue where I'll be a year from now. And.." 

"Are you ever going to be ready to have kids with me then?" she says, tears streaming down her face. She can't believe this. She can't believe he wants her to keep waiting. She can't believe he won't choose their dreams, their plans, their family. He chooses the gods of his bluest days and leaves her alone. With their dreams, their plans, their little family that she's been day dreaming about for four years.

"I want to, Tay. It's just.. how can I take care of a human when I can't even take care of myself at the moment." 

She looks at him, nods. She presses her lips together, trying to suppress her tears, her anger. 

She's heard these words before. 

"I didn't mean to yell, earlier. That was.. that was out of line. I know you.. you mean well, but.." 

"It's.. it's fine." she lies, slowly pulling the blanket from her legs and leaving the bed. "I just.. I need.. some air for a moment.." 

Travis just looks at her and sighs as she leaves the bedroom. His head sinks in his hands and he feels hot tears streaming down his face. He knows he fucked up. He knows that his anger at himself just did more damage to the only person he's ever loved than he would have ever intended. 

To be continued.

[urdepressedslut]

I don't know if you usually take requests, but could you please write a drabble about Bucky taking care of the reader during her period? Period cramps are killing me and I just want some cuddles 🥺

aw i love this 🥹 i’m sorry your cramps have been bad, i’m sending you all the love and hugs your way💗 i hope this bucky fluff makes you feel better 🥰

Cuddles

♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky helps comfort you when you are having bad period cramps.

♡ Warnings: SUPER FLUFFY, light angst, period cramps, blood (duhhh), light self hate

main masterlist

* i know this is mickey, but let’s pretend it’s post tfatws!bucky *

You had showered after a long day, doing your usual routine— taking your time to really treat yourself after a tough week.

Immediately after sinking into bed, the sheets feeling so good against your freshly shaven legs— it took no time at all for you to slip into a much needed slumber. You didn’t know you could sleep so soundly, so well. Most nights consisted of rolling and waking up occasionally in sweats. Tonight was the first, as you slept through the entire night, waking only the next morning.

You were excited to start off your Saturday after a good nights rest, except when you went to get up— you noticed you were still exhausted. It was then you could feel your back ache, all your limbs heavier than usual. You furrowed your brows in confusion, thinking perhaps you had gotten too much sleep. But as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, you suddenly felt something wet in between your thighs.

Glancing down, ripping the cover off— everything dawned on you at the sight of red smearing the inside of your thighs, your underwear ruined.

Fucking periods.

You knew getting that good of sleep was too good to be true. You could feel the tears working their way up, your nose burning with frustration. You had just cleaned and changed all your sheets, taken a shower. Now everything, including you were dirty again— like you had never done any of the cleaning to begin with.

You knew it was just your emotions running wild, so you willed your tears to stay away. Sucking in a deep breath, you walked to the bathroom sluggishly. You made it your mission to grab a pill before the cramps started— you had learned your lesson. Although you were starting your period, you were not going to let this ruin your weekend. You were going to have a nice relaxing weekend. Not letting the beauties of being a woman ruin your day.

If only you had kept that attitude up for the entire day. The cramps had come as you expected, but this time the pill did nothing to relieve the pain. The heating pad worked only for a few minutes before the pain came crashing in waves, your body attempting to curl in on itself from the discomfort.

You swore a ghost was digging a knife in your uterus, and right now— you’d appreciate if the ghost just ripped out your uterus completely.

You had holed yourself up in your room, only making it downstairs for breakfast before you were running back to your bathroom to empty the contents of your stomach back out. This was definitely one of the worst periods you’d had in awhile, and you just wanted to slip into a coma until it was over.

Knocking sounded from your door, and you rolled over still clutching your stomach. You looked a mess, you felt like a disaster. Periods always made you feel gross.

“Yeah?” You asked out loud, and you couldn’t hide the discomfort from your tone.

“(Y/n)? You okay?” Bucky asked through the door.

Your eyes widened at his voice, wondering what he was doing here.

You and Bucky had been dating for awhile now, and things had been great. You still managed to get flustered by practically anything he did— and he loved every second of your flustered state. There was one thing that was brought up though— and that was periods.

“Uh— yeah I’m fine! Just tired!” You shouted, nervous that he could sense your lie. He definitely could.

It’s not that you thought he’d judge you for being a woman and having a period. But you were shy to show him that vulnerable side of you. Both you and him had shown the soft sides of each other— clinging to each other when you needed each others comfort. But there was something extra vulnerable about this— and you couldn’t ignore the embarrassment you felt when you even thought of it. You didn’t want him to find you gross, or annoying as you whined.

Okay… I guess you were a little nervous that he’d judge you.

“Doll what’s going on? Can I come in?” He asked, his voice growing more concerned.

You pulled the cover over your legs, giving the room one last once over— it didn’t look terrible. You just wished you could have a minute or two to tidy up. You knew Bucky very well though, and he’d break the door down if you waited one more second.

“Of course, come in!” You announced finally, taking a deep breath, hoping a cramp didn’t hit you while he visited.

The door opened and Bucky peeled his head in first, after making eye contact with you— he sent a warm smile before heading all the way in, shitting the door behind him. He quickly made his way to the bed where he plopped down, looking over you concerned.

“Baby what’s going on? I feel like I haven’t seen you much today. You sure you’re just tired? You aren’t getting sick are you?” He rambled on, and your heart swelled at his concern.

“Buck— I’m fine really. Just didn’t sleep too good last night.” You completely lied, last night was the best sleep you had ever had. Too bad it leaked into today though.

He furrowed his brows and looked at you like he was about to figure you out— see right through you and pick out the lies. You wouldn’t be surprised if the serum gave him those abilities.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” He asked softly, scooting closer so he could slip his hand underneath the covers to land on your bare thigh.

It was meant to be a comforting gesture, but you feared you’d get blood on him. You knew that was a silly thought— but you were paranoid.

He noticed you tense up from his touch and immediately he removed his hand, his face growing more concerned.

“Baby, what is it?” He pried, trying to look you over again— needing to know what the cause of your discomfort was.

You sighed and gave in, shoulders sagging in defeat. You didn’t want him to worry, and seeing his frantic eyes search you for a wound— you realized you were making this bigger than it needed to be. You just couldn’t ignore the embarrassment you felt.

“It’s just uh… I’m… I’m on my period Buck.” You mumbled, lowering your eyes to the bed.

His concerned expression melted away, his heart falling back into a regular rhythm. He knew he was prehistoric— but he knew what a period was. He just didn’t know why you wanted to hide it from him.

“Oh.” He finally said, “Doll— you can tell me things like that.”

“I know Buck but… it’s embarrassing and gross. I can usually deal with it and nobody ever notices— you know because it’s a normal thing.” You told him, playing with the edge of the comforter. “This one has just been pretty bad and… I just— I don’t know.”

You trailed off, avoiding his gaze. Bucky reached his hand over and tucked some stray hairs behind your ear. Tracing his fingers down your jaw to raise your chin up— that way he could look into your eyes.

“You’re not gross, okay? I’m sorry you’re in pain baby— I wish I could take it all away. It’s not fair you have to deal with this all the time.” He told you gently, and you leaned into his touch.

“It’s not usually this bad but… I don’t know, I guess it’s just a bad one this time around.” You assumed.

Before you could say anything else, you doubled over as the pain came back— stabbing into your uterus. You clutched your lower abdomen— hoping it would help relieve the pain. Bucky’s eyes widened at your whine.

“What can I do to help?” He rushed out, hands hovering over you.

If it were any other time, you’d find his protective, mama bear mode adorable. But for now— you were too busy being in pain.

“Just stay with me please? I don’t wanna lay here alone.” You admitted, your words coming out in whimpers.

Bucky wasted no time in kicking his shoes off, shimming his jacket off before he crawled back into the bed, sneaking under the covers. He leaned back against the headboard, pulling you on top of him.

“Don’t even have to ask doll, I’m staying right here. You comfortable?” He asked.

You reached down and raised your shirt just above your belly button, before you lifted his shirt the same. He furrowed his brows, wondering what you were doing. You laid down completely again, letting your skin smush against his, and because he was a super soldier and was always hot— his warm stomach felt amazing against your lower abdomen. Like a personal heating pad.

“Ahh… that feels good. You’re so warm.” You sighed, ticking your face into the crook of his neck.

He chuckled and smiled into your hair, wrapping his arms protectively around you.

“I love you baby.” He whispered to you, already feeling your breathing even out— falling asleep on him.

Your uterus calmed for now, the warm sensation soothing your pain. You could only wait until the next wave of pain came— but you knew you’d be okay with Bucky holding you.

“Love you too Buck.” You mumbled sleepily against his neck, your breath warming his skin.

He hated that you were in pain, wishing that he could take it all away— but he’d give you as many Bucky cuddles as you needed until you were sick of him.

Truthfully, you’d never get sick of Bucky cuddles.

A/N: short but sweet 🥰

[sazwritesstuff]

Late at Night (in the light of the tv screen) | Logan x afab!reader

Logan comes home early after being away on a mission. You're sleepy, maybe a little grumpy for being disturbed, but that doesn't stop you for welcoming him home safe. Pairing: Logan x fem!reader | Fandom: X-Men | Word Count: 2k | posted on AO3 here A/N: this started off as a cute short drabble and then it turned into smut (this is the first time I've written smut btw, sorry if it's bad) | minors do not interact! TW: sexual content/sexual references, swearing, unprotected sex, penis in vagina sex

You had gone to bed hours ago, lying in bed all alone with Logan off on a mission. It wasn’t the first time that he had been gone for a few days but it never got any easier. The man was meant to return late the next day, most likely getting back by late afternoon or early evening if it had all gone according to plan.

You were always a little worried when Logan went on a mission. At least this time he had left as part of a team. Sure, you still worried about him but it put your mind just a tiny bit more at ease knowing that he wasn’t alone. But it hadn’t stopped you from being up for far longer than usual, tossing and turning with thoughts of all the things that could go wrong.

Anxious images of Logan bruised, bloody, with broken bones kept swimming around your mind.

No matter how many times he came back in one piece you couldn’t help but worry.

It never got any easier.

Trying to quieten the anxious thoughts in your mind you had put the TV on low, your bedroom dark except for the colour leaking from the screen. Providing a constant buzz that helped stop your racing thoughts for just long enough that you could actually sleep.

You weren’t sure if you’d been asleep for minutes or hours when your bed suddenly sank to one side startling you awake. Eyes flying open. Your body sliding towards Logan’s warm body where the mattress dipped. Stopping when your side bumped against his.

“Thought you weren’t getting back until tomorrow.” You grumbled, snuggling your head into Logan’s shoulder. Sleep still clinging to your mind.

He chuckled, his arms slipping around you cradling your body to his “Was meant to.” he mumbled into your hair.

You hummed, feeling yourself beginning to fall back to sleep again. Your body relaxing finally.

That was until you felt Logan shift again besides you, moving you so that you were now lying on your back as he placed his head on your tummy. All the air flew out of your lungs in an instant. Your eyes flying open once more “Logan!” you hissed giving his hair a tug with your hand.

The man was heavy. You could’ve sworn that Logan’s big metal skull was getting heavier by the second!

“What?” he mumbled, pressing a quick kiss to a slither of skin peeking out from your t-shirt. Ignoring you struggling under his weight.

Wheezing you let out a “Get off!” giving his head a quick smack.

With a huff, Logan slipped his arms around you and rolled so you were now lying on top of him again. “There. Now, go to sleep, y/n.”

“I was about to until your heavy dumbass head nearly killed me.”

“I can think of a different kind of head that’ll make you choke, baby.”

“You’re such a pig!”

He hummed, placing a light kiss on the top of your head “But you love me anyway.”

“Yeah, when you’re not trying to kill.” You grumbled. Snuggling deeper into Logan’s embrace.

He let out a bark of laughter, jostling you as he told you to “Go to sleep baby.”

“I was until you woke me up.”

“I can leave if you want-” he said beginning to raise from the bed.

“Don’t you dare!” you say sitting up, your voice softening as you let out “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“Hmm. I’ve been thinking about you all day too.”

Making a split-second decision you let out “Fuck it. Take off your clothes.” Quickly pulling your t-shirt up over your head.

“I thought you wanted to go to sleep?” Logan said smirking up at you. His eyes quickly flicking down to your exposed chest before going back to your face.

Throwing a leg over Logan’s hips, you settle yourself onto his lap. You leant down, whispering against his lips “I changed my mind.” Pressing your lips to his in a demanding kiss. Searching. Yearning. Filled with pent up desire and frustration.

Lips wild and hungry. Both of you fighting for dominance. Logan’s tongue invading your mouth. One of his hands tanging in your hair as the other dug into the back of your thigh. Pulling you closer.

You could feel his hard length beneath you. Pressing into you.

Tugging at Logan’s tank top, you broke the kiss, pulling it over his head. His lips moving to kiss down your neck as you dropped the fabric to the floor. Leaving open wet kisses on your skin. He kissed and licked a path towards your breasts. Taking one nipple in his mouth, sucking, nipping, licking at the soft bud making the soft flesh hard and taunt under his ministrations. With his free hand Logan pulled at your other nipple between his fingers, ripping a moan from your throat.

“Logan.” You mewled, your nails digging into Logan’s shoulders.

“Tell me what you need baby.” He said looking up at you, flicking your nipple with his tongue before moving across to the other nipping at the bud with his teeth. Sucking, nipping, licking. Suck. Nip. Lick. Again and again. Building up a steady rhythm with his tongue.

“You.” You panted. Hips rolling against Logan’s hardness, your shorts and his boxers the only barrier separating the two of you “Please. I need you inside of me.”

He hummed, ignoring your demand, concentrating on your breast. Keeping up the pattern he’d created against your skin.

“Logan.” You whined rolling your hips on top of him. Causing a groan to escape Logan’s lips.

“Patience, baby.” Logan wrapped his arms around your body and rolled you onto your back. Leaning down he connected his lips to yours. Pulling your shorts to the side he quickly slipped a finger between your wet folds, gathering the wetness from your entrance and beginning to rub soft, slow circles on your clit.

Reaching one hand down you began stroking Logan over his boxers, feeling the hard, hot length of him under your palm, making him moan above you.

“Not yet, darling,” he grabbed your hand pulling it away “I want to watch you come on my fingers first.”

“But Logan-” you began to whine, stopped by the demanding kiss Logan placed on your lips.

“Be a good girl and come on my fingers, then you can have my cock baby.” Moving his finger over your clit just how you liked it, increasing the pressure just a little more and making you squirm. Rolling your hips to meet his hand, he smirked and asked “Does that feel good, baby?”

You nodded biting your bottom lip. Your eyes drifting shut as pleasure coursed through your body.

“Hmm. Keep your eyes on me, can you do that for me?” his voice coming out huskier, betraying just how affected he was.

“Feels- So good” you breathed, your voice breaking, hooded eyes latching onto Logan’s above you. “Please.”

“Please what?” you tried to chase his fingers, grinding your cunt even more on to Logan’s hand.

“Logan. Please. Please. More. You make me-” you gasped as you felt Logan shift above and insert two fingers inside “feel so good!”

“Fuck.” He breathed “You’re gripping my fingers so tight for me, darling.”

“Logan, I’m gonna, fuck-” you dug your nails into his shoulders “I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me. Come on, baby, that’s it. Cum all over my fingers.” At Logan’s encouragement you came with a shout, chanting his name as you threw you head back in ecstasy. Logan’s fingers didn’t stop until you reached down and pushed his hand away as you began to feel overstimulated. Your body still shaking from your orgasm.

Logan brought his fingers up to his mouth, moaning as he sucked them clean. “You taste so good.”

You giggled, threading your hands through his hair and pulling him down for a kiss. Tasting yourself on his lips.

You felt Logan trail a hand down your body reaching down to pull your shorts past your hips and down your legs. Lifting you hips to help him slide the clothing off, kicking the offending fabric off of your foot.

From his head you racked your fingernails down his back, one of your hands going to the waist band of his boxers slipping them down his thighs. Freeing Logan’s cock from the confining fabric.

You felt Logan rub the head of his cock along your folds. Collecting the wetness there before placing it at your entrance and slowly sinking inside of you.

You moaned. Shifting beneath him, raising your hips to meet his. No matter how many times the two of you had sex you never got used to the thickness of his cock stretching you.

“Fuck, baby, you’re gripping me so good. So tight. So fucking good.” He pulled out, leaving just the tip inside, before thrusting forwards inching further inside of you. “Perfect fucking pussy.” Setting a slow, languid pace Logan thrust deeper and deeper inside of you.

Pressing kisses against his collarbones you ran your nails up and down his back. Leaving red scratches on his skin that vanished as quickly as they appeared.  

Gripping your legs Logan moved them up over his shoulders, pressing you deeper into the mattress, hitting a new deeper angle inside of you. His thrusts picking up pace. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room creating a symphony as you both moaned and panted.

You could feel yourself clenching around Logan’s cock. Tighter and tighter. Closer and closer. Your second orgasm so close.

Leaving one hand on his back, nails digging into his skin, you reached down and began rubbing your clit. Gasping as you sloppily tried to meet Logan’s thrusts with your own.

“Fuck,” Logan breathed feeling you tighten even more around his cock as he looked down at where you were joined, his cock thrusting in and out “Good girl. Rub that clit, baby. Rub your clit for me. Want you to cum on my cock.” Thrusting deeper and harder into you, hips slapping together.

“Such a good girl. Rubbing your clit as I fuck that pretty, little pussy. Such a good girl for me, aren’t you baby? You want to come on my cock?” you nodded, words escaping you, “Then cum. Cum for me pretty girl. Cum on my cock.”

The knot in your belly tightening, tightening, tightening… and then it snapped. Eyes rolling into your head. Body pulled taut. Scratching at Logan’s back. Fingers still rubbing your clit. Faster and faster.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He groaned above you. Pounding into you.

The grip of your cunt on Logan’s cock sending him over the edge. Logan’s thrust turning short and a little sloppy. Groaning your name as you felt his hot, thick cum flooding your insides.

Stopping after a few more thrusts before holding himself inside of you. Your body shaking with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

The two of you panting. Sweating and out of breath, Logan leant his forehead against yours. Keeping most of his weight off of you, his arms braced on either side of your head, he pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “Such a good girl for me.”

Looking up at Logan, the light of the TV screen illuminating his features, you smiled. Sleepy, happy, content. The two of you out of breath and sweaty. Your body felt like a limp noodle.

Whining as Logan shifted, pulling his cock out of your slit, moving to get off the bed.

You watched him as he moved off the bed. Your eyes straying to his naked backside as he left the room.

Seconds later you heard running water in the bathroom before Logan padded back inside your bedroom with a wet washcloth in hand. Kneeling on the bed beside you he quick wiped up the mess he’d made before throwing the cloth into the wash basket by the door and lying back down next to you. Curling his arms around you and pulling your body to his.

Pressing a kiss to the top of your crown he mumbled into your hair “Goodnight, love.”

“Night, Lo.”

[lets-try-some-writing]

Hi! Longtime lurker here, I adore your writing and all the oneshots you publish. Do you have any cute headcanons about Optimus and Elita’s relationship (for instance, how they met, deciding to become Conjuxed, and other miscellaneous stuff)?

That I do! I love them very much your honor, so let me specify based on continuity. For now, lets stick to G1. I've had longer to think about them.

G1

Orion and Ariel met in a barfight. Orion decked someone for making nasty comments about Ariel and she in turn decked Orion thinking he was the one being gross.

They made up afterwards with a drink and proceeded to dance the night away, promptly exchanging communication lines.

Once Orion figured out where Ariel worked and after they had been talking for a while, he marched across Iacon in order to sign on at her depot.

Dion thought he was nuts but came along because he enjoyed the drama.

Orion made it a point to be a gentlemech even while working at the docks. He would carry anything heavier than a cat for Ariel's and would go out of his way to get her energon for her so she didn't have to stand in line for rations.

They began courting after Orion got into yet another fist fight in Ariel's defense. He got his face busted in, and while Ariel helped him get patched up, Orion blurted out that he couldn't just let other mechs touch her.

Ariel took that personally and proceeded to become just as devoted as Orion. This earned the duo many gags and amusing reactions from their fellows who referred to them as the "lovebirds".

Ariel and Orion never actually managed to be Conjunxed as dock workers. That came later when they met under the light of Luna 1 before the Exodus late into the war. Optimus brought Elita-One the last crystal rose he could find and asked her to be his Conjunx right there.

She agreed and they spent a mere three cycles together before having to go their separate ways. But Elita wore a simple pendant with contained a petal of that single rose. Optimus for his part carried the piece of Elita's antennae that had been torn off in combat.

During the war, when they were able, Optimus and Elita would call each other by their old names and dance under the stars, singing wild songs from the docks while playing music that didn't match the mood in the slightest.

When the war ended, Elita wept for Optimus during his many moments of death. But after each miraculous return, they would always reaffirm their oaths to each other. Usually with a few soft touches.

Post war, Elita and Optimus are the most sappy couple to have ever become a thing. They are constantly calling each other nicknames like "honey", "Sweetspark", "pooch" (that one is elita's and only for when she's feeling mischievous), "My forever", and Optimus's favorite, "My rose." (For obvious reasons).

They openly wear very obvious marks of their conjunxing now that they aren't being attacked left, right, and center. Elita keeps her pendant but also loves to have a little engraving of Optimus's pet name for her on her neck guard. Slightly scandalous, but she enjoys it, especially because Optimus has "pooch" written on his inner thigh where only she and the very observant can see.

They are also very good at being quiet about their activities as a couple. But when they feel like shooing mecha away, they love to get sappy and gross everyone out of the room.

They are also notoriously dramatic when the situation isn't serious. Put them in a war room and neither will so much as smile. But give them a minor issue, and they can and will make fun of those who are enduring some slight embarrassment.

Whenever Optimus takes on a new apprentice (adopts a child-), Elita has been known to mother them relentlessly in her own way. Some get beat around in training, others get homemade goodies. Others still may end up getting actually adopted.

Rodimus still has no idea that technically he's Optimus and Elita's on paper. Only Kup and Ultra Magnus know. Both think its hilarious and have no intention of telling poor Rodimus anytime soon.

[balkanradfem]

Health update

I've been writing this post over and over during the last six months, and ultimately I would decide not to publish it, because I didn't have a good resolution for it! I wanted to come here and write – hey I solved it! I've fixed it! Good ending to the story. But instead it's just been crazy time and actually, I'm not in a great place. I don't expect to get any help or advice – at this point I'm convinced that nobody can help me, but, if you wanna hear my crazy infuriating story about the neck pain, click on 'Keep reading'.

So if you've been following me for a while, you'll remember I mentioned some intense pain in my neck, left arm, and left shoulder, that would stop me from walking, sitting, standing, lifting anything heavy. All I could do was lie down, and get around by bike. It happened after I was carrying heavy bags of chestnuts every day, two years ago, and I just didn't realize it could do me any harm, but I was wrong about that.

I've managed to get a MRI after a full year of waiting, and not being able to walk for more than 15 minutes, and the documents said that nothing was wrong with my neck! I was fine, and my doctor and everyone else decided the pain was psychosomatic and I needed to go to a psychiatrist. But I knew that wasn't it! I've been struggling with psychosomatic pain for 10 years at this point and that's not how it works.

My doctor has been giving me vitamins and telling me it's a vitamin D deficiency, and not knowing what else to do, I humored her and took vitamins. I've been trying all kinds of exercises I would find online, which were all extremely painful for me to do, and took days of recovery, until finally, one exercise worked and moved the pain away from my neck. It was now in my head, so if I tried to walk, or sit, or lean back while sitting down – my head would experience waves of pain. If I persisted, then I would end up in bed, paralyzed in pain for days. But I could now lift stuff with my right arm, and I was so relieved to be even a little bit better, not having that constant pain in my neck was a blessing. When I told this to my doctor, she decided that 'pain went away on its own', which I tried to debate but she didn't listen.

Afterwards I tried going to a private physiotherapist, to see if I could get at least any more information, and I was scheduled for a treatment of massage, electrotherapy, ultrasound therapy and traction. When they did traction, I felt something move directly in the place where the pain was, I was shocked! Next few days I could actually sit normally, and I thought I was saved – but then I made one wrong move with my left arm, and the pain came right back, devastating me. I went again, thinking maybe the second time will fix me, and asked about what traction usually solves – I was told it was a nerve impingement. But the doctors said I didn't have it, because it didn't show up on scans, and I didn't have pins and needles in my fingers.

However I did suspect I still somehow had an impinged nerve. My second attempt at physiotherapy did not work, but I now had more information – traction on my neck definitely helped the first time. The exercise that helped my neck previously, was also traction! Traction is basically stretching out your body in a way that your head, or one of your limbs is being pulled away from the body. And I wanted to try it on my left arm, which was at that point, almost completely unusable; not only it was so weak it couldn't pull a power cord out of an outlet, but it would hurt severely if I tried to lift even a bowl. I found instructions online on how to do traction on my shoulder at home, did it DIY style, and – my left arm gained power back. It was still painful to lift heavier things, it was still not 100% usable, but I could lift a bowl and pull out a cord with it. 60% of its problems were resolved, in about 10 minutes. I was both relieved and angry. To think something so simple could resolve so many symptoms and nobody even thought to mention it for me to try? It was devastating. At that point my left arm was unusable for a year and a half.

Another thing happened after I freed my left arm – I started experiencing extreme pins and needles, not only in my fingertips, but even at the top of my head. I now had all symptoms of nerve impingement. I realized later, that I had pins and needles the entire time, but failed to register or notice, because I had them for the last 10 year because my blood pressure is so low, all of my limbs are numb at all times. I thought some base level of pins and needles is normal and didn't think to report it as a symptom.

So with this new knowledge, I went to my doctor and explained that I could still have an impinged nerve, but nobody caught it because I failed to report the tingles, because I thought they were normal, and nobody asked me about blood pressure. I still couldn't walk, or sit, or stand or carry heavy stuff. So she redirected me to a private physician who dealt specifically with nerve impingement, he was expensive but he could fix it.

So I went.

The guy didn't want to hear me out, but immediately asked for the MRI, which I gave to him dejectedly, because I was told they show nothing. He looked at it for 2 minutes and located the impinged nerve. It was between my 6th and 7th vertebrae, trapped inside of my spine. He showed me on a toy how the nerve gets compressed every time I sit, stand, walk, or lift anything heavy, and how any of these motions would send horrible waves of pain trough my body.

I was blank with shock. There was clear evidence of nerve impingement on my MRI scans, but the documents said everything was alright? I asked why didn't the doctors at the hospital catch this, and he said they just don't look at it in such detail. He reassured me he has a painless therapy that can resolve this issue in a few weeks and that I don't have to be worried about it. It was expensive but I had been at this point, saving money and desperate to the point of being willing to give up my savings just to get free of pain – the pain was destroying my will to live.

I'm going to warn you that this is where things will take a bad turn, and just writing this down makes me mad.

The therapy was not painless. It was electric therapy first, then I would be put on a machine that pulls my head away from my body, but at an angle that was extremely painful to me. Then they would put me to lie with my head pushed forward, another angle that hurt me so much I was slowly starting to sob while it was happening. At one point I nervously said I had a question, and was immediately shut down with 'you can ask later', by that same guy. I was told it would hurt for the next few days but then it would get better. I'm used to pain but I had to take pain medicine as soon as I got home. It was unbearable.

After the second therapy, the pain got worse to the point where I was completely bed-bound. I was struggling to do my job, had to take breaks to lie down on the floor every half an hour. The pain was worse than it was in the start – my neck hurt again, I couldn't use my left arm, I even developed new symptoms of pain while walking, pain I've never experienced before! Feeling panicked and worried, I called them to report my awful condition, because they had a rule that if you don't come to therapy, and you don't cancel it the day before, you have to pay as if it happened. So I called, and I told them my symptoms were getting much worse, asking if I should still come to therapy as scheduled, thinking we would maybe try something else since this didn't work?

And I got told... god I need to calm down, this is still insane to me. I got told 'okay don't come anymore'. And that was it. They were like 'we can't help you anymore don't come bye'. I remember just pure panic and dread hearing that, I understood they were getting rid of me because the therapy didn't work. In desperation, I later called again and asked if I could schedule another appointment because I was in so much pain, and they said 'in 6 weeks, and then you can only have another every 6 weeks and no sooner'.

I thought at first, okay, I'll wait for 6 weeks. I need help. But two weeks later I realized there's no use. The therapy put me in a state much worse than initial, how could I go back for more of that? And these people were completely apathetic. I lost all of that money, only to have my state worsen to the point where I would start crying from how much it hurt. I was breaking down.

Eventually I came to my limit of how much I can endure and I decided to go forward with a back-burner plan I had devised in my head, but didn't go trough with before, because it was a little insane. I knew now how the traction machine worked, and I knew that traction in the past, would help me, and this one didn't because the head-forward angle was just catastrophic. So I decided to diy it. Make my own contraception that would do the exact thing but at an angle I felt comfortable with. Is that smart? Is it not experimenting on myself when I'm already in such horrible state? Well. That's what it is. But at least I won't do as horrid of a job as those 'private professionals' who did this to me.

So! The pain is not resolved. My own efforts are ongoing, it's kinda painful, I'm hacking it, trying to figure out the correct intensity, angle, and all other stuff, trying not to think about how insane I feel trying to diy something as serious as this, but listen. I need hope. I have nobody left who could help me. Doing nothing is sending me spiraling. I need to be trying stuff out, and everything that has helped me to this point, have been my little diy, learned-from-internet tricks. Maybe it will work, maybe I'll learn something. But I need hope. I know the healthcare system cannot help me because they documented there's nothing wrong with me and I can't disprove it. And I am so sad.

I had to give up all of my hobbies, my crafts, I couldn't go on with weaving or knitting, I barely did any sewing, gardening became painful and I can only do it in small increments. If I don't resolve this, I won't be able to live my life, I won't be able to build anything. All my dreams will fail.

Oh and if you're wondering how was I still able to forage in the forest if I can't walk – I hacked it. I can walk for 10 minutes, but then I have to lie down. And in a forest, I just can lie down anywhere. So I would walk for 10 minutes, then lie on the forest ground, just look at the trees and the birds for 10 minutes, so pain would go away and I'd be able to walk a little again! And forest has soft mossy composted leaves ground that didn't trigger the pain so badly, if the impact of walking is gentle, then I can walk a little bit longer.

I stopped talking about this issue because the mere thought of it can make me hopeless and depressed, I was avoiding thinking about it, or talking about it, to not make myself upset. I sometimes managed to forget about just endlessly playing stardew valley and pretending things are fine. And I thought it would get resolved by now, I was so hopeful that the therapy would help. I had all of my knitting supplies ready, I had collected some new dandelion stems to make baskets of, I was so excited. But I'll just have to hold off on everything, hopefully not indefinitely. Isn't it crazy that I've now had a nerve trapped inside of my spine, sending pain trough my body for 2 years? And I only found out in the last 4 weeks but then it was immediately made worse? Insane stuff. Life isn't supposed to be like this. I don't think anyone was meant to deal with crazy stuff like that.

[tkwrites]

Shoot the Moon - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Photo from instagram

Title: Shoot the Moon

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn Hughes x Original female character 

Warnings: comfort, fluffy beginnings, smut (18+ only), oral m & f receiving 

Summary: Quinn comes home exhausted from a rough road trip. After a good night's sleep, he decides to try out some new things with Sarah. 

Word count: 5,500

Comments: this is my first fanfiction ever posted, though I've been writing them for a long, long time. I hope you enjoy! 

Shoot the Moon

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

 I made tacos at your place, so don’t pick anything up on the way home.

This simple text sent gratitude rocketing through Quinn. He just needed to get home. They were on the bus to the arena, then he would drive the 20 minutes to his apartment, and to Sarah who was waiting for him with his favorite meal. The bus seat was digging into the bruise on his right hip from where he’d hit hard two days ago. It felt better when he was moving, but sitting still was torture. It had been on the plane and it was here again. 

He was so glad to be home. It was near the end of the season, and he was tired, his body,  time and emotions drawn out well beyond their limits. He couldn’t wait to get a good night's sleep next to Sarah. He had never missed someone like this. He'd never noticed the absence of her weight in the bed next to him, or missed the smell of her perfume in such a tangible way. He was beginning to feel like he couldn't and didn't want to live without her. 

The next road trip they went on, he needed to bring something with her perfume. Maybe that would help him sleep better. 

When he finally opened the door to his apartment, Sarah walked around the couch to greet him. His bags hit the floor and he collapsed against her, nuzzling his nose into her collar bone and taking a deep breath. 

“God, I missed you so much,” he said, pulling her flush to him. She was in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of leggings. It was the very thing he’d been hoping she would be wearing.

Her hand went to the back of his head to stroke her fingers through the dark waves there. “I missed you too.” 

They stayed that way for a while, just holding each other. Quinn felt like he might cry, being back with her. Man, love had turned him into a sap. 

He understood why the older guys were always so anxious to get home to their wives. 

He moved just enough so he could catch her lips with his. A different kind of sigh moved through his body when she returned the kiss. 

After a few minutes of gentle, loving kisses, a loud gurgling came from his stomach, and Sarah laughed as she pulled away. “Let’s get some food into you,” she said, taking his hand and leading him into the kitchen. 

“You sit,” she said, gesturing to the table, “I’ll bring you a plate.” 

After setting a full plate in front of him, she went back to make herself one. He was certain she’d eaten earlier, but didn’t want him to feel alone. It was eight already. All he wanted was to eat and fall into bed with her, letting her hold him. His eyelids seemed to get heavier at the thought. 

“Don’t tell me my food is that boring,” she teased sitting next to him. 

Shaking his head, Quinn tried to blink away the tears welling up in his vision.

Sarah set down her taco and put her hand on his forearm, “what’s wrong?” 

He sniffled. He felt like a kid, coming home from a bad game and crying to his mom. Except this time, the disappointment of loss was soothed by a swell of gratitude like he’d never felt before. 

His voice was thick and a little higher than usual as he said, "I don't know, just coming home to you, and to this,” he gestured at his plate, “I just feel so lucky.”

She smiled, and leaned over a corner of the table to kiss him, “I love you too. Now eat before you get too tired and wake up hungry in the middle of the night.”

He laughed, remembering the first time he’d done that very thing when she started sleeping over. She'd come out with his shirt on, voice and eyes bleary with sleep as she asked what was going on. Her eyes went wide when she flipped on the light and found him with a sandwich in his mouth. 

If he ate too early in the evening, hunger pains would wake him in the middle of the night. Nothing was going to wake him tonight if he had anything to say about it. 

His tears subsided, soothed by her knowledge of him, her scent and the food filling his stomach. 

He put the plates in the dishwasher, as she went about putting away all the ingredients. There were a lot of moving parts to this meal. He didn't even know he had that many food containers in his house. Maybe she had brought them from hers. 

“You can go lay down while I finish this,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. 

Quinn shook his head. He’d been too long without her. He wasn’t about to willingly walk away now. 

When they finally made it into the bedroom, he stripped down to his boxers, and washed his face in the basin beside hers. She removed her leggings, and threw some of the pillows onto the floor. Usually, she would stack them in a chair, but apparently, she was as anxious to get into bed as he was. 

They lay on their usual sides. She’d already seen him cry that day, so he didn’t feel as hesitant to ask for what he wanted. 

“Can you hold me?” he asked. It came out quieter than he thought it would. 

Sarah smiled, and scooted closer to him so their noses nearly touched, and she could bring her arms around him. 

“No like,” he felt his cheeks get hot, “can I be the little spoon?” 

“Sure, roll over.” 

“I can’t. My hip.” 

“What’s wrong with your hip?” she asked. “You told me you were fine." 

He winced, a flash of guilt in his face, "I don't have any major injuries." 

"But you have minor ones?" She pulled back the blanket to get a better look at him. 

“I took that hit and landed right on it in Calgary, and it’s bruised to high heaven,” he said. “It's not really hurt, but it's tender.”

Her fingers brushed down his side, and despite his exhaustion, his skin still reacted - shivering onto high alert.  She pulled back the band of his boxers to reveal a dark purple bruise that had gotten bigger since the last time he’d looked at it. Apparently sitting on the plane hadn’t helped him at all. 

“Oh, Q,” she said, voice turned nurturing instead of the coddling or "buck up!" he got sometimes from the trainers or his teammates. 

“Here,” she said, rolling on top of him.

If this was any other night, this would play out much differently. He kissed her still, because he’d been thinking about it for too long, and she was here. She was here. He was home, and she was here with her perfect mouth, and her cute, crinkly smile. He couldn't resist her. 

She deepened the kiss, devouring him like she just couldn’t wait any longer. She'd missed him so much. She knew he was tired. He'd been tired all week, but she finally had him back in the city - back in their bed - and she couldn't not. 

Quinn felt himself groan. His hands reacted instinctively, rucking her shirt up, anxious to feel more of her skin. 

Breaking away, she moved her mouth to the spot under his jaw that she knew made him weak. 

“Sarah,” he breathed.

She responded with a slow glide of her tongue. 

“I want you so bad,” he whimpered, “but…” 

She pulled away from his neck to look down at him. "But?” she repeated. 

“I’m so tired, I don't think I can keep it up.” A hot flush spread down his neck and onto his chest, “I’m sorry,” he babbled, “I really, really want to, but can we wait until morning?”

She bit her lip and nodded, swallowing down the hot desire she felt. 

"I'll make it up to you, I swear," he promised. 

Her mouth melted into a smile. "I know you will," she said before pecking him on the lips. 

Sarah rolled off of him, onto the other side of the bed. “Scootch over,” she said. 

He did and she settled, tucking her body against his. 

“Wait, I need my pillow.”

They did an awkward shuffling dance to switch pillows without sitting up. 

Once settled again, she sighed into him. Every part of her was touching him, and he would have given her anything at that moment. He could even feel her nose against the back of his skull. 

He felt supported and loved, and home. Finally home. 

She draped her arm around his chest and he found her fingers with his own, lacing them together. 

“I love you, Sarah,” he whispered. “Thank you.” 

“I love you too Quinn.” Her breath tousled the short hairs on the back of his neck, “I’m so glad you’re back. I missed you.” 

“I missed you so much,” he said, finding a way to somehow pull her closer.

As sleep overtook him, he found himself thinking for the first time in a relationship how much he wanted to be with her forever. How much he wanted to make a real commitment to her. He’d never felt that way before. He should call his dad to see if he could use his grandma’s ring. The thought was startling, and he realized he was getting ahead of himself. First, she needed to move in. He wanted her here. Everything was so natural with her. Finally, he really was home. 

Quinn couldn’t remember ever sleeping so well. He’d slept fitfully on the road trip, despite his exhaustion and usual ability to sleep anywhere. His brothers had been quick to send him funny memes about him looking like a zombie. He came home feeling like a zombie. 

Waking up now, things felt right. He wasn’t sure he could say it in any other way. It all just felt better and brighter. He felt rested, and invigorated for the first time in seven days. He was on his back, and Sarah was tucked against him, on her side. He finally had a day to himself, and he was going to spend every second of it with her. 

Her t-shirt had ridden up through the night, and her bare thigh was pressed against his. 

Spending some time memorizing that feeling, he waited for her to wake up. 

“Hey,” he said quietly after ten minutes when she showed no signs of stirring.

Her eyelashes fluttered, and she tucked her face into her pillow, mumbling something he couldn’t understand. 

He laughed a little, and tried again, this time squeezing the arm around her. 

“What time is it?” she asked, her morning voice hoarse and a bit deeper than usual. 

That voice stirred something in him. It always had. It took him back to the first time she’d slept at his apartment. Waking up next to her was something he could never forget. The way she’d wrasped, “good morning,” before kissing him softly. It was one of his favorite memories. 

He glanced at his watch, “a little after seven.” 

She groaned and tucked her face behind his shoulder, “it’s too early to be up.” 

Laughter bubbled up his throat. “We went to bed at 9. That’s almost 10 hours.” 

Looping her arm over his chest, she somehow managed to pull herself closer to him as her leg covered him, her knee to his opposite hip. “Still too damn early,” she said, settling her head on his chest. 

“If you want me to go back to sleep, straddling my thigh isn’t the way to do it,” he teased. 

“I’m not straddling your thigh,” she protested, “I’m cuddling.” 

“I can still feel all of your skin.” 

She rolled her eyes, “if you want me to be up at seven, you better have a damn good reason, Quinn.” 

Rolling onto his side, Quinn cupped her cheek in his hand. He kissed her gently before rolling on top of her. “Is this a good enough reason?” he asked, working his leg between hers before licking farther into her mouth. 

“Mmmm… I don’t know,” she said, making a big show of shrugging her shoulders, even as her fingers were winding into his hair. 

He pulled back, “you want me to stop?” 

Her big blue eyes looked up at him, looked right through him, and it sent a shockwave through his whole body. God, how had he ever managed without her? 

“No,” she said, voice quiet, the morning hoarseness starting to wear off, “I’m up now.” 

“Good,” he said, “because I am too.” Leaning down to capture her mouth again, his hands pushed her shirt up. 

She pulled back with a groan, “did you just make a dad joke during foreplay?” 

His smile was impish, “maybe. Did you like it?” 

She rolled her eyes even as she was pulling him back down into the kiss, “It’s a good thing I love you, Huggy.”

He groaned at the use of the nickname. “Please don’t call me that in bed,” he begged, moving his mouth to her neck. 

She giggled a little before it bled into a moan. The sound shot straight to his groin. 

He had some theories he wanted to try out. 

Half way through the roadie, he had shared a room with Elias. 

The only explanation for the conversation that followed that night was Quinn's exhaustion. If he were normally rested, he likely wouldn't have brought it up at all. But sitting there mindlessly watching Sports Center, listening to Petey talk to his girlfriend in Swedish, he wondered if he was doing things wrong with Sarah. 

It's not that he felt Sarah was unsatisfied. She didn't seem to fake it, and their connection was only made stronger when they slept together. Even on nights when sex was off the table, but she still stayed over, sleeping in the same bed seemed to solidify their relationship more. 

Still, he worried. He wanted to be good for her, to be the best for her. And maybe their sex life was normal, but it didn’t seem like anything from the romcoms he’d seen, and he wondered if they were missing something. Maybe he wasn’t giving her something she needed.  

Anxiety always came easier when he was tired. That was the only reason he asked Petey what he thought being a good lover meant when he got off the phone.

“Does Emma like everything you do?”

“Everything?” Elias repeated, laughing, “no.” 

“No, like in bed?” Quinn felt his skin get hot. This was not the kind of conversation they usually had. 

Petey's pale skin flushed red. “Are you asking me how my girlfriend likes to have sex?”

“No. I mean maybe? I just mean, I want to make sure Sarah's satisfied, but I'm not sure how to do that.”

“Have you talked to her about it?”

“Not really.”

“I think that's probably your best bet.”

“Yeah. I just feel like there are things I should know.”

“What kinds of things?”

“Like, foreplay stuff.”

“Do you not usually do that?”

“No.” He thought, then amended, “I mean we make out a lot. And she likes when I kiss her neck, so I do that. I get her off with my hands sometimes." 

“Does she seem like she wants more?”

“I don't know.”

They ended up having an extensive conversation in which Petey talked about how Emma liked it. How on nights when they had the time he would give her two or three orgasms with his hands and his mouth before they had sex. 

“She really likes when I suck on her breasts,” he said. “Actually every woman I've been with has liked that. I think Gretta told me that. She was my first girlfriend.”

Quinn had been mentally taking notes the whole time. 

“Honestly,” Elias said, “it's best when I ask her how she wants to be touched and she tells me. That varies from day to day. Sometimes she doesn't even want foreplay.”

So now, Quinn mouthed his way up to her ear, and whispered, “how do you want me to touch you?” His voice was husky and deeper than normal. He’d never sounded like that before, but he'd never wanted to be good for any other woman like this before. 

Her little gasp was followed by her hips tilting into his. Maybe Petey was on to something here. 

“Show me how you want me to touch you,” he said, moving his mouth down to the soft spot under her jaw he knew she liked.

He nibbled it with his lips as their hips surged together. 

Her hands were in his hair. And her fingers tightened as another soft moan escaped her mouth. The next thing he knew, she was sitting up, forcing him back onto his knees. She ripped her shirt off, tossing it somewhere in the room. She was left in a pair of cotton underwear styled to look like men's briefs. They had tiny green flowers all over them and green trim. 

“These are cute,” he said, running a finger along the waistband. 

Her skin quivered under his touch. 

She pulled his mouth to hers before placing his hands on her breasts. “Here,” she breathed against his lips, “touch me here.”

God, if this wasn't the hottest fucking thing he'd ever experienced. Why hadn't he ever thought to ask her what she wanted before? He didn’t have to guess, he just followed instructions. 

Her hands covered his, and she led his fingers to roll her nipples. She arched into his touch and a whine escaped her throat. Her hands slid up to cling to his shoulders. 

Moving his mouth back to the soft spot under her jaw, he listened to her panting breaths for a while. He wasn’t going to last long if she kept that up. 

Time to put another theory to the test. He mouthed down her chest before wrapping his lips around her nipple and sucking. Answers came immediately. 

“Quinn,” she moaned. Her hand cupped his head, encouraging him to stay there. Her hips ground against his own. He couldn’t hold back a moan. 

“Fuck,” she whispered, heat pooling between her legs, “that feels so good.” 

He’d never made her swear in bed like that. A ridiculous amount of pride swam through him.

He moved to the other breast and reveled in the groan that fell from her lips, a little louder this time. 

"I want your mouth all over me," she heard herself say. 

When they first got together, Quinn had been fairly inexperienced. Some due to them learning what the other person needed, and some, she figured, because he was used to quick hookups and had never been in the kind of relationship where a woman could teach him what she liked. If he had, that woman didn't know or appreciate the bliss that was oral sex. Perhaps she didn't see the potential Quinn could work with his mouth. Sarah didn't know how someone could miss it.

He got more bold as they got more comfortable, and she told him what she liked. Still, there were certain things she'd been dreaming about since they met that he seemed too nervous to try. He seemed willing now and she was teetering on the edge.

She whined when he lifted his mouth from her. He gave the puckered nub a kitten lick when she tried to pull him back down. 

“Where else do you want my mouth?” It felt a little dirty to say out loud, but her response had him wishing he’d asked before. 

She plopped back on the pillows behind her, and she groaned, louder still. He wondered if he might be able to get her to yell his name. The thought of it made him ache. 

“I,” she panted, “eat me out, please.” Sarah was so turned on at the thought of him finally going down on her that her flirty filter was gone. 

“You want it here?”  he asked, sliding his hand down to cup her, still covered in the cotton briefs. 

“Yes,” she moaned, “God yes. Please, Quinn.”

Quinn had only given oral sex once before. It was with a girl he dated in high school, and she all but forced him between her legs the first time they went further than making out. 

When he had started, not really sure what to do, hoping for a little instruction, she shrieked about him being a selfish lover and stormed out. He hadn't even needed to jack off. The experience was so deflating he hadn't ever tried it again. 

“How do you like it?” he asked now as he peeled the briefs down her thighs. 

He knew what Sarah liked, but the thought of failing her made his heart heavy and his ego ache. He wanted to be good for her. 

He had some idea from watching porn, but he knew by now that was an unreliable source. 

She kicked her underwear off the bed, and she was bare before him. An ache opened up in his chest. How was it possible to love someone so much? It wasn't just lust, even though he felt that too. It was vulnerability and trust made into action. 

“Like you do with your hands,” she said, "except with your tongue. I'll tell you if I need something more. I trust you.”

The anxiety fluttering in his chest calmed a little at her words. He decided it was better to just start. The baseline knowledge he had of her body told him things like the pressure she liked, and where she liked to be touched. 

He stroked his hands over her hips, and settled between her legs. 

“Tell me if you don't like something?”

She nodded, heart hammering with anticipation. 

He leaned in and parted her with his tongue. The sensation was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Soft and warm and delicate. Also delicious. Sweet, tangy and completely different from anything he'd tasted before. He loved the smell of her when they made love, and this was the same amplified ten fold. The release he'd licked off his fingers before didn't even prepare him for this. It was so much better. God, why had he waited so long?

She gasped and moaned, hips arching up to meet his mouth. Finally feeling his tongue on her was better than any of her fantasies. 

"You taste so good," he groaned.

“Really?” she thought people only said that in books. Men written by women.

Now that he was here, a carnal, competitive need took over. He needed to get her off. It was more than a matter of pride. Now, it was something he couldn't live without.

“So fucking good,” he moaned against her as he licked and kissed trying different motions to see what she liked.

“There, there,” she said, body arching, hands fisting the sheets. “Right there. Don't stop.”

This was the most amazing thing he'd ever done. Part of him wondered why he'd waited so long. Most of him was thankful he'd waited to do it with someone he loved and trusted and who loved and trusted him enough to tell him what she needed. It was his favorite thing about Sarah. 

"Quinn," she moaned, "suck please." 

Sealing his lips to her, he pulled with his mouth. 

Pleasure exploded through her veins. 

The noises - the moans and mewls, the little grunts and gasps she responded with drove him on and nearly drove him out of his mind. 

All of him was more turned on than he ever thought was possible just from giving her pleasure.

Fuck, why had he been scared of this? 

Her fingers suddenly dove into his hair and tugged. He nearly exploded right then. Pulling back slightly, he breathed deeply through his nose to calm down. 

“Quinn,” she whimpered, “I want your fingers.”

He was dreaming. He had to be. Lifting his head, he asked, “what?” 

She whimpered at the sight of his face: chin wet, brown eyes soft with love, pupils blown wide with lust. “Your fingers,” she gasped, “I want your fingers inside me while you do this.”

He groaned. Where had this demanding, dirty talking girlfriend come from? Petey was a genius. 

He went back to work, taking time to kiss and nip her inner thigh before licking her up and down. 

“Keep your tongue there,” she begged. “Yeah, yeah, just like that.” Her hand slid to the back of his head, keeping him where she wanted him. 

He eased a finger into her. Her hips bucked. “Quinn,” she moaned and it was louder than ever. “More.” 

He slid in another, and she rocked with him. 

“I… I…”

He lifted his head a little to look at her. She was practically writhing on the bed. “You look so beautiful right now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, pushing his head down again. “Put that pretty mouth back to work.”

He laughed and lowered down. He found her pulsing nub, and licked it into his mouth, suction gentle but decisive. 

There were a few more desperate moments of Quinn trying his best to please her and to not shoot off too early. It was like walking on the edge of a knife. Hopefully just because it was the first time. 

“Oh, oh Quinn, I - I’m gonna…” she said before his name was wrenched out of her mouth in a strangled cry. 

Her body pulled taught, legs flexing under his hand, as she clenched around his fingers.

The tension snapped and she collapsed, limbs limp. 

“Holy shit,” she said quietly as she came back to herself, gently pushing him away from her core. 

Quinn rose onto his knees and wiped his mouth on his arm. “I know,” He said, flopping down next to her. “I had no idea you had that in you.” He felt euphoric, and he hadn't even gotten off. Hearing his name drip from her mouth like that gave him a sense of pleasure and intense satisfaction he hadn't felt before. 

She giggled, riding a high she hadn't felt in a long time. “I knew once you got up the confidence to give me oral, you'd send me to the moon, but goddamn." 

“You…” his brain was swimming, “how did you know it would be good? I've never done it before.”

“Really?” she asked, genuine surprise in her features.

“My first time kind of blew up before she could tell me what to do. I was only sixteen. How did you know?” he asked again.

“We kiss all the time, Quinn. I know the magic you can work with your mouth. I've been fantasizing about it pretty much since we first kissed."

“Holy fuck,” Quinn said quietly as her words sunk in. Four months. He’d been denying her of that for four whole months. “I'm sorry I didn't try sooner.”

She rolled on her side to face him. “I'm glad you tried it now.”

Leaning in, she captured his mouth, slanting into him and rolling them so she was on top. 

Her mouth wound its way down his jaw, over his chest and down his stomach as she moved to kneel between his legs.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his chest rising and falling quickly. 

She glanced up at him, and there was a spark of teasing desire in her eyes he wasn't sure he'd seen before. “Returning the favor.” 

All the air left his lungs in one big whoosh. His thoughts spun. 

“I… you don't have to –” but her mouth was on him again, and he lost the words. 

She didn't love giving blow jobs. She'd done it twice before. Once when they clinched the playoffs, and once when he begged for it explicitly. He knew it was something she endured rather than enjoyed. 

The thought of her mouth on him right now, though, sent his arousal into overdrive.

“I want to,” she said. “You did it for me. I do it for you.”

Yet another reason giving her oral was turning out to be one of the best decisions he'd ever made. Not only had it gotten her off and turned him on more than he thought possible, it made her want to get him off with her mouth. He was definitely buying Petey dinner the next time they were out. 

She slid his boxers off, careful of the bruise, and continued her teasing, mouth tracing over the v line of his right hip. 

“Sarah, please." He was so riled up, he didn't think he could take any of her teasing. 

He felt her lips curl into a smile against his skin. 

His begging had the opposite effect he was hoping for. Instead of sinking a little lower, her mouth started moving back up to his. 

A desperate sounding whine escaped him. 

“Does this work for you too?” she asked before putting her mouth over his nipple. 

Three seconds before that, he would have said no, but her hot, soft mouth on him shot a surge of pleasure straight down his spine. A deep growl ripped from his chest and his hips surged up, desperate for any kind of friction. He swore. 

She moved to his other pec and he felt like he might just combust. 

“Sarah, baby, please.” He begged, “please.” 

Her mouth lifted from his chest and he tried to gain control of his breathing. 

“I think that's a yes,” she said, a bit of laughter in her tone. 

Shifting down, she let her lips trail over his stomach again. 

When she finally took him between her lips, the shouted sound he let out was barely human. 

His muscles corded tight, desperately holding himself back from thrusting into her mouth. He was panting praises at her. 

She lifted her head and he whimpered. Had he ever done that before? 

“How do you want it?” she asked before wrapping her lips around the tip of him. 

"I-" He tried, but his thoughts kept getting jumbled. "Like that," he groaned when she ran her tongue under the head. "Can you - can you use your hand?" 

Her fingers wrapped around him, and he mumbled something incoherent even to his ears. 

“Hmm?” she asked not lifting her mouth. 

He couldn't hold back from bucking up at the vibration.

When he settled, she added her hand into the mix, gently twisting with her fingers. Hot, heavy pleasure flooded his limbs, turning them to jello. Oh god, he was in heaven. Her name came out of his mouth, moaned like a prayer. He wanted to worship her for the rest of his life. 

He was so strung out that he couldn't vet any of his thoughts. “I want to come in your mouth so bad.”

She looked up and their eyes locked. This image was going to be branded in his mind forever. He knew it would be a memory he called up on the road when he was missing her. 

She nodded, just slightly and sucked a little harder. 

“Fuck,” he said reverently. She’d never let him come in her mouth before. The thought alone had him tensing up right there. 

He tried to hold back. But feeling her come apart on his tongue had brought him so close to the edge already. Now, she had her mouth and fingers wrapped around him giving him the most amazing head he'd ever received, telling him he could let go in her mouth. All after 10 days without her. It was a losing battle

“I -” he tried to warn her, but his body was its own master, demanding release. He came in a sudden flood of intense light and pleasure that pulsed out to his fingers and toes. 

She made a small noise of surprise, but true to her word didn't pull away until he was spent.

Everything in his body went slack except his heart that pounded in his heaving chest. 

Vaguely, he felt her get off the bed and listened to her walk into the bathroom. 

When she came back, laying next to him with her head on his shoulder, she smelled fresh and Minty.

“Did you brush your teeth?” he asked, an edge of a laugh in his voice. 

She winced, “I know I'm supposed to be all sexy and swallow, but I just can't stand the taste of it.”

Laughter bubbled out of his chest. “I don't care if you swallow. I don't really even mind not coming in your mouth, that was just a heat of the moment thing. Thanks for letting me anyway,” he said, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.

She adjusted so she could kiss his lips. “I'm glad you asked for what you wanted. Thank you for sending me to the moon.”

He pulled her on top of him and kissed her. It was slow and intimate. The kind of kissing no one told him was more intoxicating than all the quick makeout sessions he had when he was younger. 

“Do you think I can get you past it?” he asked. 

“Past what?”

“Past the moon,” he said.  

She laughed. “I mean, I guess anything's possible, but I'm not sure how you're going to top what you just did.”

“Well, I've got all day, and my only plans involve me showing you how much I missed you. So, tell me what to do and I'll take you wherever you want to go.”

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[elliedestinyvlog]

𝐒𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧?........

You and miles have been dating for over 4months and those past months were the best, but lately he's been acting weird more than usual. He's been replying late to your texts, never picking up he's calls not from you neither he's mom, which considered you since he would never ignore his mother.

He also been canceling date nights , anniversarys, party's for his moms promotion or when that one time he come 4 hours late to your big basketball tournament , it was the biggest moment of your life and he had missed it, you have had enough off this and you knew what you had to do but it would have torn you apart.

I know haven't been posting for like almost two years, it mad crazy, I'm truly sorry for not posting, I might make a second of this if I'm not a lazy ass bitch but yeah. I love y'all and thanks for the support on the last two, byezz my loves, leave a like and follow if not I'll find your grandma. (Btw I'm joking do not banned me please🙏 😭)

( e42miles fic)

•𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕𝟏•𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝟐•𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝟑•𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝟒•𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝟓•𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝟔•𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝟕•𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝟕•𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝟖•𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝟗•𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝟏𝟎•𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝟏𝟏•𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟏𝟐•𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝟏𝟑

𝑁𝑒𝑤 𝑌𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝐶𝑖𝑡𝑦 ; 𝐵𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑙𝑦𝑛

𝑆𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝐷𝑖𝑎𝑠 𝑅𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡

𝑆𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑑𝑎𝑦;12:30𝑝𝑚

It was almost pass midnight and miles was still no where found, try texting, calling, even e-mailing yet still no response, I was starting to get worried, as I sat there with puffery eye, dry throat with a lump , slowly watching the clock pass time, each tik repeated over over through room, each one louder than the last , as my eyes began to get heavier as just as felt them bout to close I heard a knock at the front door.

As I slowly picked myself up from the couch and walked towards the front door, as my hand slowly touched the handle of the door nob the coldnees from the metal sending chills towards my warm soft hand, as I gently turned the nob,my heart racing so faster it probably could have been heard right out of my chest, as my hands began to shake uncontrollably, as I swallowed hard licking my lips, as I took a deep breathe in and out as I then opened the door. As a familiar set of braids come into view my heart immediately started racing, my breathe becoming uneasy, as the full features than came into view, I knew it was now or never.

As he stood in front of me with those beautiful hazel golden eyes, as I followed down to his hands , he held a banquet of my favorite flowers, and in the another hand was all of my favorites , a box of chocolates, name brand clothes and jewelry, a teddy bear and snacks of all kind. I mean it's sweet but he can't keep buying his way out of things, beside how does he even have money for them? , my eyes slowly met his gaze which just made me tear up, that smirk he once had quickly disappeared the moment he saw how upset I was, I then walked away towards the kitchen as he followed behind not before putting everything down and closing the door behind him. As I reach the kitchen, I played nervous with the necklace he got me for my birthday last year, as I wipe the tear away and opened the refrigerator reaching for the bottle of cold tequila, I then walked around the tables island towards the sink to open the bottle while he stood by the frame of the kitchen.

As I felt his eyes burn hole in the back of my head, as I brought the bottle towards my lips feeling that burn go down my throat from the liquor, as I swallowed not before turning towards him, as my eyes began to fill with tears creating my vision to become blurry, his expression fill with confusion and considen towards me and my actions, " mami don't do this " he said in a low dangerous way, as I looked him dead in the eyes and taking another sip of tequila show him I didn't need to listen, " where were you?" As the sound of my voice echo through out the house, as he chose to stay quite, the sound of my breathe becoming more clean, as the wind blew the trees breaches against the glass against the window, as if this were a horror film, as I tapped my finger nails against the wood of the tables island repeatedly , as I felt my throat burn towards the liquor , I then inhaled not before bringing back the tequila towards my lips, as I was bout to take another sip, the bottle was pulled out of my hands and thrown in the garden can, as I was still in shock towards the action of miles, immediately felt range flow through me, as soon as my eyes met with his, I couldn't hold back anymore and immediately started to go off on him, "WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! " I screamed at him with anger, my blood boiling, my mind spinning, my eyes tears started falling like nothing, my heart racing at maximum speed, I felt faint, " ' who do I think I am ? ' , I'm your fucking boyfriend, and this is fucking not you, so better tell me what's going on?! " my body shaking, my hands sweating , my breathe uneasy, I couldn't think straight, I was about to have a break down right in front of him, but I can't make him see how valuable I am , as I felt my head spin even more I couldn't take it anymore,as I slowly walked towards him, looking deeply in his gaze as his features became more mutual with the dim lightening from the kitchen light.

As his eyes followed mine, searching for answers to why I was being this way , " do you know what today is? " I said in a low tone where it came out more of a whisper , the sound of sadness, sorrow, anger and frustration, his expression still confused towards my question, I thought I knew would this boy was, I thought he cared, loved me, but no matter how hard I try to keep this relationship a float, it will forever find away to sink to the bottom. The silence was so loud. I could practically hear all of the busy cars on the street, sound o birds, the sound of rain drops on the window, I took a deep breathe in and I knew this relationship has would never last so why try, " Hailey i-" as he wanted to speak I instantly cut him off, before he could even get a word out, " I think you should go " , I said trying my best to keep it together, try not to cry, I then broke eye contact, knowing that if I looked at him any longer I would be sobbing. I then back up keeping a few distance from us, as he blankly stare at me with glossy eyes, he looked deeply hurt from those exact words that had left my lips. I brought my arms over my chest as I keep my eyes towards the ground , the air around us becoming intense, " listen i-.... Look what ever I did I can make it up to I promise, please don't do this " I could hear the hurt and desperate in his voice, as much as it hurts I can't keep feeling like this isn't not healthy towards this relationship, it's toxic if he doesn't see that , then it can't really be up to him.

As tried my best to maintain my tears but it's just silently rolled down my cheeks, as I inhaled, my lungs taking in the cool air that surrounded us, my fingers tips gripping onto the material of the sweater I wore, hitting down on my bottom lip until I could taste the blood, my heart racing, I could feel the uncomfortably from this situation as he stared deeply into my warm gaze, " tell where you were miles" I said trying not to sound to hurt, if it has to end like this then he has to tell me why he wasn't here, why he didn't make time, what was so important that he can't bother to call or texts me back, my eyes began to burn from all the tears I had shade , I started to bite the inside of my cheek while nervesly playing with the 𝑴 necklace he brought me, as I clutch on to the necklace hard, the cold silver brushing against my warm hands, as I waited patiently for miles to answer wisely towards the practical question, "simplemente no puedo.. " he spoke in a low tone fill with miserable and dismal, why couldn't he not tell me?, why does he have no trust or faith in me?, he has been everything I have ever asked for yet, there was never truly trust between us, the silence around us created tension, thicker atmosphere a more disloyalty confidence, sometimes he made me believe or I thought was real but I guess it was all just fun and games.

I knew that at the end of the night I might not want to ever be in an situation like this ever again, I felt so hurt by him , I dont know if I will ever bring myself to love again, " then this conversation is over" I said not holding back anymore, not wanting to feel this way it not good for anyone, especially someone who you really thought one day would have been the father of your kids but they will always find a way fuck up something good, as I walked out of the kitchen and towards the door, walking fast down the halls while miles quickly followed behind, as I come close in view with the front door, reaching my hand towards the nob and turing it so now the door was wide open letting in the cold winter air, as I left the door open I bent down over to the gifts he bought me and shoved the items into his arms with full aggression, he knew what I was doing which why I saw tears pour from his peers, as I push him towards the door trying to get and his gifts out , he refuse to leave force himself back into the house, " no I'm not going " he said walking feather into the house, he now stood in front of me, as the wind blew through the door brushing against my skin letting the hair stand, my eyes stained with tears, as he keep his eyes on mine, " then tell me where you were " you could hear the sound of hurtful in my tone of sound, he walked closer decrease the distance between us, as I slowly backed up he just kept on coming closer making my heart racing extremely fast, my breathe caught in my throat making no air way to breath .

As my bare back was now pressed up against the cold wall, as he continue to looking deeper into my gaze, " do you really want to know " I couldn't tell if that was a threat or warning, as I nodded my head in a into agreement, as soon as I realized what I had just done immediately regret my response , my head started to spin lightly, which made everything now seem more complicated , as I tried my best to keep a force mind it hit me, " I'm...... The prowler.. " my heart started racing, my eyes wide at his words my entire body froze , my whole world had just been turned upside down, did I even know who he was, I felt nauseous, my stomach twist and turned, while my head kept on spinning , those words repeating over and over in my head.

The sweat dripping from my head, " what?.. " the soft tone in my voice, was filled with confusion, hurt and betraly, my eyes burning , my has shaking uncontrollably, my throat dried up , as I slowly walked away from him in complete fear, while holding my head in confusion, my surroundings started to spin around me making me sick to my stomach, as I stood near the staircase with my back towards him, " leave... " my vision began to blurrie while my face began to heat up, anger, miserable and dismal , I knew this hurts him more than me, he treated me with nothing but kindness, honestly, respect and care but I guess if you truly loved someone you would stay with them expect their lifestyle but in this case I can't be live in constant fear or to wake up one day that his no longer here, I wouldn't have been able to live with myself. As I could hear him walk closer towards me, I stared blanking at the stairs with tears felling, felt uneasy with him near, " m-miles... please leave.. " I said as I clutch onto my arm , digging my nails into the sensitive part of my skin, know there would be a mark, I was just tried of this toxic cycle of our relationship, this needed to stop, but God I'm going to miss those late night calls, those roll casters rides, those photo booth pics I keep in my phone case, those sick days we spend together, those in the class love notes that the teachers would get a annoyed with, those cheesy texts messages, those spa days with have when I'm either upset or sad a out something, those sunsets or sunrises we have and all of that is now going to disappear never again, he knew there was no point in him trying to argue my answer would have stayed the same .

The next thing I know he's out the door, and right after that door closed I busted out in tears, I cried none stop that I felt my heart was going to give in, I just sat there by the bottom of the stairs as my heartbreaking crys filled the quiet and empty house.

[wintersplctice]

Different post! This is TF141 x fem!child user(age 11)

May include language, weapons, and violence!

Price, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz were on a mission and they spotted you in a building surrounded by men most likely terrorists. You were wearing a black hoodie and black leggings. For some reason, you didn’t seem that scared? They came barging in and they immediately took them out. You looked quite surprised to see them. Backstory of you, you were just a babe when you were found by assassins who trained you relentlessly. Five hours of sleep maximum, only three meals a day without snacks. 17 hours of training, 2 of those hours for free time and the time for your meals. You were known as the best assassin and sent out on missions since you were 7.

Your strengths are: agility, fast reaction time, etc.

weaknesses: heavy objects, comfy positions since you tend to get sleepy fast but you get punished bad if you sleep more then five hours, fear of talking out of line, etc.

End of backstory!

You had your knife out and pointed at them but that doesn’t compare with their guns pointed at you. You learned that knives are for close combat and guns are distant but also can be used as close combat. Your more skilled at a gun then a knife but guns are heavier for you which is a weakness of yours. Soap spoke, “Who ‘re ye, what’s ‘yre name lassie?” he spoke. You had lots of scars which they took note on. “First, who are you and why should I tell you?” You spoke with a voice not backing down. They could tell you’ve been through things so they decided to spill. “Captain John Price. Call me Price”

“Johnny Soap MacTavish. Call me Soap, nice to meet ya lass”

“Kyle Gaz Garrick. Call me Gaz.”

*Ghost more of didn’t want to say but Price gave him a look so he said if in a deep and spine chilling voice,”Simon Ghost Riley. Ghost.” Well damn. That’s just great. How welcoming! You took a deep breath. Saying your name should hurt that bad right? “Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n…” you said still on edge. (Can have middle name or not.) “Can ye put the knife down now, lass?” Soap said in a softer tone. They knew you were a young age just not certain how old. “…Fine” you finally considered as she tossed the knife a few feet away from her to the floor. “How old are you, lass?” Price asked. “I gave you my name. Use it. I’m eleven.” Dang you didn’t have to be that harsh but they got somewhat of it. Give Soap a few minutes and he’ll go back to calling you Lass. “Why are you here, Y/n?” Price asked. “Some important documents or smth.” You said but took it back. Why did you have to tell them this? It’s none of their business. But you were too tired to care. You only had four hours to sleep since you have been staying up longer than usual because of some training you had to do. “Why don’t you come with us?” Gaz offered. Ghost watching just in case anymore men are coming. “…Very well.” Well fuck it. Why not? It’s not like they seem super weak. They can handle a few assassins right? When you get into their van Price is the one driving and Soap, Ghost, Gaz, are in the back with you. “Why aren’t one of you in the passengers seat?” You asked confused. “So you aren’t lonely!” Gaz said with the a smile trying to make you feel comfortable. How much it’s working is not so much. Further in you fell asleep onto Ghosts shoulder but the tough guy didn’t shove you off which made Gaz and Soap tease him like no tomorrow. They got a few hits on the head when they made it to base but not from Ghost, from you because you don’t like teasing.

Shall I make a part two?