spurt of the moment

A Very Belated Friendship

Prompt: There’s a blooming friendship between Narcissa Malfoy and the Chosen One

It’s the first Christmas after the war when the letters start coming. Harry is not helping Mrs. Weasley. He is also not in the company of his best friends. In fact, he is alone in No.12, Grimmauld Place, sipping his tea near the window. Kreacher is busily making dinner that can be considered suitable for one on a Christmas night. Suddenly a medium brown owl swoops inside his open window and lands in front of Harry. He looks at the owl confusedly, and the owl only stares at Harry with a tilted head. Whose owl are you? His consciousness asks because it’s not The Weasley’s owl nor it belongs to the ministry. It is too elegance to belong to the ministry, clearly the owner takes their time on grooming the bird to perfection. He is pulled from his reverie by a gentle nip on his finger. He smiles softly to the owl when it lets him caress its feather. He tries to ignore the pang in his heart by the sight. He missed Hedwig more than he can express right now. He pulls the letter from its feet to stir his mind away from sensitive topic. Like white snowy owl. And green light. And death. He assumes the owl will go back to its owner, but it only flies above Harry’s head twice and settles on his left shoulder, happily nipping his ear and hair gently. He only shakes his head and let the creature gets comfortable, focusing on the letter at hand. There’s no sender’s name, which makes Harry suspicious, and thus makes him cast a revealing spell towards the letter, but there’s no dark or lethal magic on it. Once he carefully opens the letter, he begins reading.

Dear Mr. Harry Potter,

Good evening, Mr. Potter. This letter might come as a surprise for you as I have also surprised myself on sending it, but it is not to be dwelled with too much thought as I have no intention to disturb you. Happy Christmas, Mr. Potter. I hope you celebrate this day in the warmth company of your loved ones.

P.S. Oh, the owl is a Christmas present from me, she loves staggering on people’s shoulder. Please take care of her.

Warm regards,

Narcissa Malfoy.

It takes Harry a full ten minutes before he can understand the letter completely. Narcissa Malfoy was sending him a letter on Christmas, full with Christmas wishes and even went through the trouble of buying him an owl as a Christmas present. A very beautiful creature that is now staggering on Harry’s arm. He can never buy any pet, not since Hedwig, but the beauty in front of him has already captured his heart completely. Rory –sort for Aurora. He’ll call her Rory. After that he immediately writes back to Mrs. Malfoy, thanking her for the present, wishing her a very merry Christmas, and also sending his regards to Malfoy – Draco. After that he pulls out Hedwig’s old place and lets Rory to familiar herself on her new place. She immediately purrs and sleeps after eating the food Harry gives. He asks Kreacher to pack the diner and Apparate with it to the Burrow unannounced. That night he aborts his plan to stay away from the Weasley as it’s their first Christmas without Fred, and follow Mrs. Malfoy’s advice to be in the company of his loved ones.

*

After the first letter much to Harry’s surprise, there are more to come and in no time they have chatted back and forth with letters. At first it was a little bit awkward and formal as Harry didn’t know how to act with all the warm attention he’s getting from a Malfoy, but then he gathered his wits, asked Narcissa to call him Harry, and started reaching out first. Well, after two months, he dared to invite Narcissa to The Black House, there they chatted over dinner like old friends. When the calendar marked as April, Harry went to Malfoy Manor for the second time in his life. Narcissa was hell bent on redecorating the dark and gloomy Manor, and Harry decided to help. Surprisingly, Malfoy also helped along with a polite gesture toward Harry and a much warmer gesture toward his mother. He kept coming back for a full week until the tasks were done. In that week, Harry has seen things he’d never guess he’ll be seeing from Malfoy. Seriously, three days ago, Malfoy sneakily swiped a stripe of green paint on Narcissa’s left cheek and grinned widely as he admired his art before he pecked her green cheek, leaving the paint on his lips, which made Narcissa laughs.

“There. Perfect.” He had heard Malfoy said softly when Narcissa was laughing, and casted a very warm look toward her. Gone all the sharp edges of Malfoy, gone all the sneers and superior looks, and gone all the infuriating arrogant trademark of Draco Malfoy. What’s left was just a kid with mischievous act to bring a smile toward his mother face. What’s left was a kid who shoots his mother a warm look and calls her perfect when she can’t see. And in that moment Harry had nothing to hold on to as he felt his heart stuttered a little bit.

*

It’s in the middle of June when Harry suddenly wakes up sweating and screaming inside the Black House. It’s in the middle of June when Harry mindlessly goes to the Malfoy Manor past midnight by Floo. It’s in the middle of June when he staggers towards the Manor’s kitchen in the verge of having a panic attack. Draco was just sipping a mug of tea to erase the nightmare that had woken him prior, and the sudden intrusion surprised him.

“Po—” he almost scolds Potter for not having any manner, seriously it’s past midnight. Potter’s figure in his house is no longer a strange thing. Since his mother and Potter had redecorated the house on April, Potter’s appearance in the Manor had been frequent, not that he’s complaining though. He almost scolds Potter, but one look on his ashen face stops his tongue. Draco leaps to his feet and stops before he could reach for Potter with worry when he heard the heavy breathing from the other boy. “Potter, what’s wrong?” Draco’s voice is tinged with concern that he tries to mask. Potter is holding his body with a hand on the wall and the other on his knees, panting like he has been running a marathon, sweat clings onto his thin pajamas.

“Nightmare. I think I’m having a panic attack.” Draco sighs. Of course his mother was sleeping when needed, just his luck.

“Potter, I need you to listen to me. Will you listen to me?” Draco says calmly. Potter nods. “There’s a wall on your left, sit on the floor, your back to the wall.” Potter follows the instruction. “Now, breathe and count with me.” Draco starts counting in the same rhythm with Harry’s breathing pace. “Potter, I’m going to touch you now. Is that okay?” Potter nods again. Draco takes Potter’s hand and put his palm on his chest. “Breath with me.” They synchronize their breathing rhythm until Harry looks much calmer. “Are you okay?” Draco dares to ask.

“Yes… Thank you, Draco.” And for the first time in history, Draco gives him a genuine smile. He gets up to make another mug of tea, and cast a warming charm over  his mug before sitting beside potter on the floor and giving Potter his tea. He hides another smile by sipping his mug, he’s Draco now.

“Any reason why you suddenly going here?” Draco starts. Harry only shakes his head. “A careless action in the spurt of the moment then. How Gryffindor of you, Potter.” Potter only laughs. “Wanna share nightmares?” Draco asks again, nonchalantly. Potter snorts in his mug, but decides to tell Draco about his nightmares. The night gets wasted with mugs of tea, shared nightmares, concealed smiles, and some occasional smirks and laughter. Harry ever imagine that he’ll witness this side of Draco –for Merlin’s sake, he’s Draco now – ever, but here they are, sharing nightmare and sipping tea on Draco’s kitchen floor in pajamas after midnight. And Godric helps him, because his heart once more stutters uncontrollably.

That morning, Narcissa has a special surprise as she sees his son asleep on the kitchen floor with his only arch-enemy, full clothed, both backs to the wall, and the head with jet black hair stays comfortably on the shoulder of the blond. She has never smiled wider because maybe it’s the start of something beautiful.

A salvation for one.

Redemption for the other.

A very belated friendship.

Maybe it could even bloom to be the truly long waited relationship.

With a mug of coffee in her hand, she faces the window, watching the world coming to life in the start of another day.

Smiling, she hums a gentle lullaby.

Softly.

Happily.

Them Not Wanting Her to Leave After Finding Out They’re in Mafia: VIXX

N:

Now… HakYeon here, is a natural born leader, so he’d always want to be on top pf things, commanding your every action, and when he sees you trying to disobey his order that clearly stated for you to stay in your room and wait until he came back home, he was raging mad. He had already began to plan how he’d get you back, dragging you by your collar and locking you up inside of his house.


Leo:

Leo had always been a quiet man, so therefore you never really communicated between each other, which allowed him the opportunity to analyse your personality so that he wouldn’t need to hear anything from you but he’d already know what’s up. That night he had locked everything up with his private key, taking your phone away from you and going to bed just as usual. He promised himself that you won’t escape from him, even if you’ll be unhappy.


Ken:

As you informed him of you leaving his house, he had accepted everything with a calm smile, nodding his head patiently at you, saying that it was okay and that he understood, allowing you to leave with nothing but a goodbye. As ecstatic as you could get, you prayed that your life would continue having the lucky streak, however, that did not happen. You were not accepted to any jobs, your credit cards were blocked and you were soon kicked out of your small rented house, unable to pay for the bills. You only had one person to blame. You knew you had to return.


Ravi:

You always knew that Ravi was a crazy man, whether he used alcohol or he didn’t. The difference about him after he uses alcohol, his tongue becomes loose, as well, so on that evening, you’d heard things that weren’t particularly nice to know. Just as soon as the man blacked out from the alcohol you had packed everything up and ran away from his house. Everything was nice and rainbows for a couple of weeks, until you received a letter with familiar writing, threatening to slowly take out your loved ones if you wouldn’t return home.


HongBin:

You had thrown a tantrum right in HongBin’s face, crying over the fact that you had loved a murderer, appaled at his nerve t lie to you; the woman he had claimed to love. He followed you around his house, listening quietly to your cries and frowning to himself, after all, he did nothing wrong, so why were you crying so much? As he saw you packing your bags, he had speed-walked into your room, snatching the bags away from your hands and setting a glare on your face.

“If you hoped to leave, then tough luck, Love. You’re staying.”


Hyuk:

In the spurt of the moment and all of the anger thrown between you two, he had a short blackout and hit your neck with the side of his hand, making you loose consciousness. At a loss for words at his own actions he simply stood erect in the middle of the room, you laying by his feet. Soon regaining his senses he bent down and took you into his arms, taking you to a small basement and locking you up, there. As much as he felt guilty towards doing this- he would simply go insane if you’d ever leave him.

VINYL (EXBOYFRIEND!CALUM) - PART TWO

+mobile masterlist 

parts; (one) (two)



summary: calum applies to the record shop you work at, seeking forgiveness and, possibly, a second chance.

word count: 1,272

warnings: swearing


There are bad days. And just like good days, they all come to an end. Nothing is really permanent, everything rots, breaks, fades, and dies at some point. Though, not a lot of people fully understand that fact; the inevitability of temporalities is one truth that not everyone has learned to accept.

You had learned that philosophy a few weeks after you were left alone on a cold, Wednesday night, waiting for someone that clearly said they didn’t want to be with you anymore. The same Wednesday night that you spent so many hours rubbing the tears from your eyes and pacing inside the four walls that you couldn’t consider comforting. You had learned to begrudgingly accept that single fact and it helped you forget about the three years you spent with someone who now considered you as another ex girlfriend.

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Two Wettings the Night Before Christmas

This happened to me Christmas of 2015. As I do every time I have some sort of incident, I documented it and posted it onto omorashi.org. Here it is for your reading pleasure. =)

——————————-

Hi everyone! Its been awhile since I’ve posted anything in this section, but today being Christmas you all deserve a gift, and it just so happens that Christmas Eve brought alcohol. I tend to drink far too much whenever there’s alcohol around, and I don’t exactly handle myself well when drunk, and that brought two interesting situations last night given alcohol is a diuretic and all.

So yeah, last night was Christmas Eve, and like most families, we had a get together here at home and partied a little. Gifts were exchanged, stories told, and many a drink consumed. In my case, throughout the course of the night I burned through an entire bottle of whiskey and almost a whole case of hard lemonade. Needless to say, I got pretty tipsy and stupid to the point that eventually I could barely walk and spent a lot of time laying on the floor laughing at stuff. Occasionally I managed to make it to my computer and rant in the IRC about god knows what, I can’t remember, and message pretty much everyone I know to tell them they’re awesome. But that’s not what you’re here for! I’m sure you can imagine that alcohol being a diuretic coupled with the fact that trying to walk from room to room felt like a level straight out of StarFox did not make for fun adventures to the bathroom…But yet again, my biggest enemy was once again my own terrible judgement.

So, obligatory description phase. You know the basics, I’m tiny, anywhere between 5'5 and 5'9. I haven’t been measured in years, but if I deliberately put it off I can give estimates like that, that make me sound taller than I actually am probably. Around 116 pounds, pale enough that I could probably blend in with the snow if we actually had any on the ground right now. Long black hair, and I’d like to think I look fairly decent when I put on my standard eyeliner and the like. This story will involve 2 outfits, but for most of the night I was wearing a black shirt that stops right above my belly button, a black and white striped buttonup overshirt (A favorite of mine) left unbuttoned, a pair of light gray jeans with a cute belt. I have a thing for cute and shiny belt buckles, in this case it was a heart. I also wore a santa hat, but that fell off at some point and went forgotten for the rest of the night.

Anywho yes, I socialized, drank, drank some more, eventually devolved into being a cavewoman slurring around on the ground. It happens to me a lot. Needless to say, I eventually developed a rather pressing need to pee, but as is usually the case when I am drunk, I ignored it entirely because almost everything else in the world seems like a far more pressing matter. I recall the first time I actually noticed it as an urgent thing was when I was sitting on the floor in the living room playing my PS4 while trying to sing opera for some reason. I twisted in a certain way, and a drop fell out into my purple panties. It took me completely by surprise. I actually had to meditate on it for a second and focus on my bodily functions and was like, WELL I am certainly very desperate to pee, how did I not notice this? I stared at the stairs. Well…Kind of. My vision was swimming all over the place, so it was more like looking in the general direction of the stairs and mulling over the concept of them. Then a zombie attacked me on the game I had neglected to even look at for the last 20 seconds without pausing, and like a true drunk I COMPLETELY forgot the need I had just realized I had for perhaps the next 25 minutes before it violently reminded me I was there again.

Midgame I shifted again and a dribble began. I didn’t even notice it, but I began to feel warm and shifted again because it felt nice. The movement, naturally, caused me to suddenly violently spurt into my pants, the area between my legs gathering a sizable wet patch. Upon the feeling of momentary loss of control, I felt multiple things. Surprise, given I had forgotten about this, and a very sudden awareness that I could burst literally any second. The desperation I had somehow managed to ignore hit like a freight train. In that moment, it was like I had never needed to pee more. The moment I spurted I moaned VERY loudly, prompting my mother to poke in the room and give me a weird eye. I crossed my legs to hide the patch, waved at the tv and said something resembling “Zombeesh”, to which she nodded in apparent understanding.

It was at this point I became determined. I got to my feet somehow, and made my way up the stairs in a weird walk/crawling way, the people socializing in the kitchen next to the living room barely noticing. I dribbled more when I was going up I think. I can’t say for sure, but I do remember the warmness being more apparent the more I moved. I made it to the top…

…And completely forgot why I was there and stumbled into my bedroom before sitting at the computer. I blinked a few times, typed some crap I don’t remember into the IRC, and pondered my presence on the second floor of the house. I spurted badly again and suddenly remembered why…And just took it in. Being an omo enthusiast, the situation struck me and I became somewhat entranced and aroused. I felt the wet spot with my hand, which had grown into a very noticeable size. I vaguely remember humming lightly, an almost “mmm” sound and intentionally letting a few dribbles out to keep the warm lingering. I got a little TOO into it, because my back arched…Which pushed my belt and button into my abdomen. A very violent leak happened, spraying into my jeans with a hiss and I could feel my ass become very wet almost instantly. I shot forward and buried my hands between my legs with a noise probably sounding like a “Gah!” before remembering to appreciate the predicament I was in. I very obviously had to change now, very bad damage having been done. Go to bathroom. Change into pj’s. Plans having been laid and focused on, I stood up…and fell right into my desk, bumping into my belly more. I propped myself up, slamming my hand on my desk and squealing as I felt my muscles start to fluctuate heavily, like my pelvic floor were teetering and about to drop any second. I kept my free hand buried between my legs as I tried to stand, tried to move, tried to hold, but it was too hard.

A spray shot out. And another. I gasped and squeaked more as my pee began to warm my hand in bursts, the bursts rapidly coming closer together. My pants became damper in a larger, and larger margin each time, I could feel streams beginning to flow down my inner thighs…That’s what caused the pelvic floor to quite literally drop. The moment I got my balance it just started coming off of me, and trying to clench it shut was like trying to lift a weight way too heavy for me. I yelled out a very loud cry as I felt my pee race down the insides of my legs, trailing behind me to soak my lower ass, and otherwise pour off of me to pitterpatter onto the floor. It just kept hissing, a prolonged pssssh as I constantly cried out, “AHH A-AH AAH” as if the yelling would help my now drenched hand stem the flow (It didn’t.)

I looked down and saw it spread across the front of my jeans, the sleeve of my overshirt also becoming warm and wet from its position between my legs. The insides and back of my legs finally became soaked to the bottom, getting eachother as well as the floor wet from my constant futile bouncing and rapidly shaking legs. A stream came off my ankle and made a small river. I bit down on my hand, realizing that all the yelling was probably a bad idea, and only let out muffled panicked mewls as I stood there unable to move, constantly gripping at my completely drenched hissing crotch and pressing my legs together, unable to keep myself from completely wetting my pants right down to the last drop.

I stood there for a minute or two. Maybe more. Just taking it all in. I had many an emotion running through me at the time: fear, panic, relief, arousal, quite a bit of dizziness from alcohol if you can call that an emotion. I think I actually slapped something nonsensical into the IRC immediately afterward, something like “I peed oops.” I pulled myself together enough to change into my pj’s, some nice pink pj pants and an equally pink tank top, with some lighter red panties to finish off the ensemble. I stashed my wet clothes away so I could wash them the moment I had so much as a few minutes alone to throw them in the wash without their initial condition being seen, and wiped up the lake on my floor with a dirty towel I had used to shower earlier, and threw it in with the clothes. I was able to plan this much while bombed out of my mind. But my strife didn’t end there!

I got downstairs, and people were starting to leave. I gave goodbyes to the best of my ability, and sat down to game more (I am bad at social activities, but I was more than happy to chat games with anyone who came into the living room to investigate the zombie killing sounds of Dying Light.) Of course this only lasted as long as I could sit up. Drowsiness began to accompany the dizziness, and eventually playing the game even drunkenly was basically impossible. Mom came in and smacked me with a dish towel when I fell asleep on the floor with the controller in my hand, and I began the ridiculous process of wobbling my way back to my room. I fell right onto my mattress and that was that.

Now we come into a dream. I was in some sort of place. A semi outdoor military base maybe? Something odd like that. I really needed to pee, so I looked around. Granted, I was basically alone, it seemed deserted so I could have just peed right there, but logic isn’t a thing in dreams. After much desperate hobbling I ran into my 7th grade math teacher, whom I told “Miss, I really have to pee, reaaaaally badly right now, do you know where the bathroom is? Please?” And she just nodded in a teacherly way and nudged her head in a direction. I bounded over there immediately, and came face to face with a row of shower stalls, each with curtains. Not another soul to be found. For some reason I thought this was the best place, so I went in one and yanked the curtain behind me.

At this point my desperation jumped to a ten, and I got that feeling like if you were sitting while desperate, and then stood up. You know, the gravity of everything in your abdomen dropping? But I was standing the whole time, which again I attribute to dream physics. Just know it made me leak. So I look down to undo the bluejeans I was wearing. It is then I discover I am wearing not one, not two, but three belts. They aren’t my usual belts either with the cute buckles. Each buckle is a puzzle straight from “Keep talking and nobody explodes”, if you know the game. Where my belt notches would normally be was an led timer literally built into the leather, counting down from a minute. Somehow I knew I had to get each belt undone before the timer was up. First I figured out a morse code one, the word was “pebble”. The moment I unhooked it, I uncontrollably spurted into my jeans, creating a wet patch. The second belt had wires. With the wirecutter that magically appeared in my hand, I read through the manual that was on the shower wall for no reason and cut the proper wires, unhooking the buckle. I leak again, much worse this time, and let out a shriek as my inner thigh darkens down to almost the knee. The final buckle, is a word jumble. With 24 seconds left on the clock, I cannot figure out the solution for the life of me. I try to think but its almost impossible, my desperation is sooo bad, I just try to mull over words with those letters, all the while just saying to myself over and over, “I’m going to piss my pants, I’m going to piss my pants, I’m going to piss my pants…”

I never did figure out the words. Right as the clock hit 1 second, the letters rearranged themselves into the words TIMES UP!

The clock hit zero. My dream bladder, right on cue, feels like its contorting. Like its squeezing itself. I immediately hunch over, my hands and nails dig into my kneecaps. I cry out, yelling “Nooo don’t make me pee my fucking pants please no!!” but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. My bladder basically wrings itself out, and I have NO control. Its like I suddenly have the muscles of a 5 year old. I strain so hard and clench but it makes no difference, as my crotch and legs darken and shine, pee flowing out of me like a river. A loud hissing can be heard as it just runs down the back of my legs, no stopping it. My dream jeans barely contain it, and I can see several streams falling off me where the fabric is too saturated. I stare into my puddle and see my eyes. And then I wake up.

The first thing I notice is that it’s 3 am according to my clock. The second thing I notice is that I’m still basically hammered, because I can hardly move and the entire room is spinning like I’m about to be in the movie “Cube”. The third thing I notice is that I am absolutely bursting. As in, I’m not about to burst, I already am bursting. My nether regions and ass are very warm and very damp, and I can feel the bed underneath me becoming warm. I realize that I’m wetting my cute pink pajama pants and panties, and my first reflex is to shoot right out of bed. Of course this is a terrible idea, as again, the room is spinning. I roll right out of bed and land on the floor, on my back, and for the life of me I CANNOT get up.

This leads to my second accident of the night. I formulate the plan in my head. Stop the flow, stand up, go to the bathroom like a big girl. But none of those things ever happened. I’m on my back there on the floor, and I shove both hands down my bottoms and grip the outside of my now very wet panties. I let out a very sleepy and frustrated moan as I realize the impact did me in, my fingers and hands getting wetter and wetter as I leak and leak and leak. I keep groggily groaning things like “No, stop, please stop, nooo, stop peeing, I’m not peeing my pants nooo.” In exactly the way you expect someone who’s too drunk to know their environment would say it. I was basically on my back, and rolling from side to side like a stuck turtle, criss crossing my legs back and forth as my jammies got wetter and wetter. I try to sit up and that alone puts pressure on my bladder just enough to turn the leaks into a stream. I fall back on my back and begin whining and moaning as I clutch at my crotch from inside my pants, soaking my hands and arms, as I feel my pee seep through and pool on the floor under me, drenching my ass and making my pajama pants absolutely sopping, from pink to a red. It pools under my legs, and up under my back getting my tank top all wet too. I arch my back, moaning anxiously, hating how much I was loving the relief.

Due to the arch I’m able to get a glance underneath me, and I can now hear the hissing coming from my pants, and it begins to stream straight from under my ass through the fabric onto the floor beneath it, and that sight just kills me in more ways than one. I lose ALL control and I become a human firehose, the hissing becoming so loud its almost deafening, and the sight of niagra falls and the feeling of sopping warmth when I plop back down into my puddle wakes me up and I become absolutely frantic, realizing fully that I am laying on my floor absolutely soaking myself. I start whining and panicking, my hands shooting everywhere they can grow, my eyes going wide as I keep muttering something along the lines of “no no no stop stop stop” but I just…can’t. I push my hands into my crotch from the outside of my pants this time and the heat from my pee is just hot, in multiple ways of the word. I couldn’t stop no matter how hard I clutched, pushed, wiggled my legs and soaking wet ass, it just poured out of me as I moaned and groaned like a panicked child.

Eventually it stopped and I just laid there, in a huge puddle, just staring at the ceiling not believing I just pissed in my bed and on my floor in what were some of my favorite jammies. I actually ended up passing out there, due to the alcohol I’m assuming. I woke up later, finding I had kicked my pants halfway off in my sleep. I was soaked from almost head to toe. I threw the pants with the other clothes…I was freezing now, as the puddle had grown cold. I was feeling less drunken and a little queasy. I walked downstairs in my wet panties and tank top, knowing everyone was sound asleep and ate some lasagna while pondering whether alcohol was worth it anymore. Yes, a wetting at 3 am made me consider quitting drinking. I got back upstairs, took off the rest of my garments, grabbed my second shower in the last 24 hours, before cleaning up (again), throwing on a nightie and going back to sleep again. I had to pee again kinda by the time I got in the shower, because a whole case of hard lemonade and a quart of whiskey is a lot of liquid I assume, and I had yet to empty any of it anywhere that wasn’t my clothes. So I peed in the shower to spite my dream. I peed in a shower successfully without a belt time bladder bomb. So ha.

I woke up, had Christmas morning, got some sweet loot, visited family, had dinner, and had a great day overall. And first thing tomorrow morning when everyone’s sleeping in, I’ve got a hefty, very damp load of laundry that I need to take care of. As per usual, I got away without being caught, and thinking back on it causes me to realize that it was all very hot in retrospect. Its hard to revel in it when you’re panicking and trying not to do it, but looking back on it later is always rather fun.

Anywho, I hope you all enjoy my latest mishap. I look forward to feedback! Feel free to leave a comment, shoot me a message, whatever <3

I hope everyone had a great day! Merry Christmas!

P.S No I’m not giving up alcohol I’m basically an alcoholic I ain’t kidding myself.

WELP I CAVED. I couldn’t get Spike as a pokemon out of my head so here you go, the start of probably another AU RIP ME. :/

Spike is a hybrid, one parent a charizard and the other a shiny dragonite (dratini and dragonair conveniently are the closest to Spike’s actual colors, hence why he’s a shiny too). As such he’s a very unique pokemon, intelligence rivaling (if not surpassing) that of a human; he’s able to understand languages taught to him and communicates using sign language.

As Twilight’s companion, she treats him like he were a friend or a son, and she never puts him in a pokeball nor has she ever “caught” him, so technically Spike is considered “wild” but he follows Twi out of his own free will.

This image is of Spike very recently hitting the beginnings of his second maturity stage, the charmeleon/dragonair stage, though he’s still pretty small at the moment. He won’t hit his growth spurt until much later, where he’ll end up growing larger than a regular charizard or dragonite.

…..Yep, I’ll probably make this an AU. PokEquestria AU here I come. Listen though, I can’t decide if I should make the ponies/griffons/all that good stuff human, or leave them as is only anthro???? What do you think, ya’ll? O:

Untitled high school omegaverse

For @hannigram-a-b-o-library and SummertimeSlick, here’s a bit of the A/B/O AU where Will is sweet seventeen and goes into–you guessed it–surprise heat. Soshite Koi ga Hajimaru: Hannigram edition, basically.  

Assume this Hannibal is nice-ish, though exactly how nice is unclear. No sex, just age difference, heat, and bodily grossness. 

Edit: completed version now here on AO3.

*

Quiet in the hallways:  class in session.  The guidance counselor greeted Hannibal outside the nurse’s office with a rueful smile.  

“Thanks for coming on short notice.”

“Not at all,” said Hannibal.  "How’s the late bloomer?“

"Not happy,” said Dr. Bloom.  "We haven’t been able to reach his father—he’s a contractor, does boat repairs.  Mom’s not in the picture.“

”‘Not happy.’  Physical distress?“

"More emotional.  He thought of himself as a beta until today, and I think he felt secure in that identity.  It’s a lot to process.”

“It certainly can be,” said Hannibal.  "A senior, you said?“

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Trouble With Faeries

Stiles/Derek | E | ~1.2k | AO3

Summary: Stiles doesn’t dare to speak, because knows that nothing he’d say right now would undo or fix what happened. Not like he had a chance, really, it was either drinking the tonic or refusing and then dealing with the consequences of Derek drinking it.

A/N: Written for @kinktober2017​. Prompt: aphrodisiacs
A/N2: Look, I can’t help the feels that happened. They weren’t meant to, honestly.

“You didn’t… you did.”

There’s nothing but silence for a while, as Derek pinches the bridge of his nose and clenches his eyes shut.

Stiles doesn’t dare to speak, because knows that nothing he’d say right now would undo or fix what happened. Not like he had a chance, really, it was either drinking the tonic or refusing and then dealing with the consequences of Derek drinking it. And sure, there were consequences for Stiles, but they were nowhere near as bad. Or at least he hopes so — the information he found before he headed out into the woods was seemingly clear, but he’s way too used to finding about details that none of the old tomes mention.

“Stiles, why would you…?” Derek starts asking, eyes finally open again, his hands by his side.

“Because it was safer,” Stiles says, finally daring to speak. “It’s… look, you can keep your agency, and your will this way.”

“What about you?” Derek asks. “Or do you think that doesn’t matter?”

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Bughead Roommates AU:  The Roommates

I really phoned it in on that title.

Summary:  After Betty’s boyfriend cheats on her, she moves in with Jughead, Archie and Reggie.  New Girl - Riverdale style.

Chapter One:

           Betty never expected to find an apartment off of Craigslist, but after she stumbled on her boyfriend of nearly five years cheating on her with the girl from the cheese counter at Whole Foods, Betty suddenly found herself in need of a new apartment.  Her friend, Veronica, immediately offered, promising that she would never frequent the Whole Foods cheese counter again.

           “I appreciate that,” Betty said.  “I know how much you love their gouda.”

           Betty moved in for a week, but knew that it was only a temporary fix.  She and Veronica didn’t exactly have compatible living styles, and Veronica’s current boyfriend, Trent, had a penchant for naked late night snacks, which brought Betty to Craigslist, anxiously searching for the next available apartment.

           Most of the advertisements made Betty fairly certain she’d be video recorded in her sleep, but she found a loft that seemed normal enough.  She sent a quick message extolling her better roommate virtues (doesn’t mind cleaning up after others, quiet sleeper, no strong TV preferences) and strategically leaving out her reason for needing a new apartment.  She got a message back within 24 hours asking to meet, and Veronica sent her off into the morning with strict instructions to text her when she got there and when she left.

           “My best friend is not getting Taken,” Veronica said.  “If anyone tries anything, casually mention that I have mob connections.”

           “You don’t have mob connections.”

           “They don’t know that.”

           The loft was about a twenty-minute train ride from Veronica’s apartment, and Betty’s stomach twisted with nerves the entire way.  She had no reason for wanting this to work out, but she did, anyway.  She was ready to move on from her asshat of a boyfriend, who had the nerve to ask her not to make a scene when she caught another woman naked in her bed, and finding a new apartment felt like a definitive step forward.  A step away from her shitty life and toward something new. Something better.

           The loft was on the third floor, and Betty found out quickly that there was no elevator.  She trudged up the steps, hoping that she wouldn’t be too winded when she met them.  Finally, she reached the third floor, and Betty paused outside the door to text Veronica. Her breath came out in sharp, hard spurts.  

I’m at the loft.  Wish me luck!

 

           Betty collected herself for a moment before knocking on the door.  A few seconds later it opened to reveal a red head in a simple tshirt and jeans.  He smiled at her and said, “I’m guessing you’re Betty?”

           She nodded, glancing past him into the apartment.  It looked tidy.  Good start.

           “I’m Archie.  Come on in.  We’re all excited to meet you.”

           Betty followed him, surprised to see two other guys sitting in the living room.  One was clad in mesh shorts and a sleeveless sweatshirt, his arms bulging on either side of him.  He greeted her with an upward nod of his chin.  Across from him on the chair was a wiry male with a grey beanie crammed over a mess of black hair.  His hand was shoved deep into a bag of chips.

           “Are these your roommates?”  Betty asked hesitantly.  

           “Yeah, that’s Reggie – “ the one with the arms gave her a sort of salute “ – and the one with the chips is Jughead.”

           “Nice to meet you all,” Betty said primly.  “Um, so, there are no girls here?”  Archie looked at her strangely.  “I just thought from the advertisement…”

           “Dammit, man, I thought you were going to change it after the last person,” Reggie said.

           “Apparently Archie here favors the female voice when he writes,” Jughead explained to a rather stricken Betty.  

           “So, it’s all of you…guys…” Betty said uncertainly.

           “Our old roommate left town to do his residency out in LA,” Archie explained.  “So, we’re trying to find someone to take his room.  I understand if living with all guys seems a bit weird, but we’re all pretty normal. We’re relatively clean.”

           “You all seem very nice,” Betty began, already gearing up to return to Craigslist for another apartment listing.  “But –“

           “Why are you looking for a place?”  Jughead interrupted.

           “Why am I?  Oh, um, my lease was just up,” she said off-handedly.  “So, here we are.  Anyway-“

           “I don’t buy it.”

           Betty blinked rapidly, surprised by his forwardness, and stammered, “Excuse me?”

           Jughead leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs. “I don’t buy it.  What really happened?”

           Betty swallowed uncomfortably and Archie said, “You don’t have to tell us.”

           “Why not?”  Jughead pressed.  “If she’s going to move in with us we have a right to know.”

           “I’m with Jug here,” Reggie said, utterly delighted by the drama unfolding.  “What’s the deal?”

           Betty’s crossed her arms over her chest tightly and said, “If you must know, I lived with my boyfriend before, and last week I walked in on him cheating on me.”  Betty felt the careful control with which she handled most situations strip away as she continued.  “He cheated on me with a woman who sells cheese for a living, and she’s not even good at it.  She consistently messes up gouda with brie.”

           “Those are really different cheeses,” Jughead piped in.

           “Right?”  Betty said emphatically.  “So, anyway, I moved out and moved in with my best friend, but I’m pretty sure if we lived together we’d implode, which I really don’t want to happen because she’s pretty much the closest person I have in the city since my boyfriend decided to screw the cheese lady, so…,” Betty took a deep breath, “…here we are.”

           “I was wondering when you’d take a breath during that,” Reggie said.

           “I’m sorry,” Betty said, cheeks flushing.  “I get a little carried away whenever I tell that story.  It’s a bit fresh.”

           “That guy sounds like a jerk,” Archie said. “You’re better off without him.”

           Jughead was quiet for a moment, seemingly considering her story, and she set him with a somewhat pointed look as she asked, “Do you buy that?”

           He scratched at the underside of his chin. “I’m with Archie.  The guy’s a jerk.  You can move in whenever you want.”

           “Wait, really?” she asked in surprise.  “Don’t you guys have to discuss it first or something?”

           Jughead glanced around at his roommates and asked, “Any objections?”

           “Nah, I’m good,” Reggie said.  

           “We’d be happy to have you,” Archie told her. “Provided you’re still interested.”

           Betty hadn’t expected to be offered an apartment so quickly, particularly from one with three men.  But she felt remarkably comfortable around them, and she could only accidentally run into naked Trent so many times before she developed some permanent neurological damage.

           “How does tomorrow work?”

Read the rest HERE.

New Constellations, A Rhys/Lucien AU Prequel fic

When Lucien flees the Autumn Court, it’s not Tamlin he seeks.

[in the same continuity as my fic Insufferable] [on ao3]

***

Lucien Vanserra is dead.

They say he stumbled north, drenched in his lover’s blood and mad with grief. They say it was suicide, technically: no one would approach the Night Court alone and unprotected like that if they didn’t want to die. They say his brothers’ murderous pursuit turned to a search for a corpse but they never found the body, that the beasts must have eaten him whole.

They do not say that Lucien collapsed, ragged and half-delirious ten miles from the border, a name, a summoning, in his mouth, and that the forest trembled with the beat of answering wings.

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joshlerenna: ch. 1

“would you like a threesome, josh?” mwahaha 

ch. 2 will actually involve jenna and more smut 

—————————————-

“hey um, josh?” tyler mewled, sounding like he wanted something. josh has known tyler long enough to know what he sounded like when he wanted a favor. 

“what would you like, tyler?” josh asked, thinking it would be another idea for the live show. he loved pushing josh’s comfort zone, and this is exactly how he sounded when he asked josh to play the trumpet. and to do the drum line. yeah, it was nothing like that. 

“i want you to bang my wife. in front of me.” tyler came right out with it like it was the most casual thing in the world. like ripping off a band-aid. josh stared at him dumbly, thinking he was playing some cruel joke. maybe jenna was hiding somewhere, or he was recording it on his phone to let her listen. 

“you…you want me to have sex with jenna?” josh stuttered, clearly taken aback. he started bouncing his knee, a telltale sign that he wasn’t too sure how to respond. 

“come on man, chill. it’s no big deal. so are you in?” tyler shrugged, grinning like a kid. tyler had an idea josh would react like this at first, but also knew he was lowkey down with it. if josh had a super active sex life, he wasn’t showing it. tyler knew that for a man like him in his twenties with that body and face, it was a sin to not be having tons of hot, sweaty sex. he just wanted to include josh in that part of his life. 

“so, will it be a threesome, or are you just going to watch? also, does jenna even know about this?” josh began questioning, still wary. he didn’t know why he was feeling this way. tyler’s pranked him before, but never with something so big. tyler smiled happily once he seen josh warming up to the idea. 

“it’s my wife, she does as i say.” tyler spat. josh gave him an appalled look, and tyler literally cackled. “i’m kidding josh, please, relax. of course she knows, and she said as long as you’re cool with it, she is. and it’s my fantasy, so you don’t even have to worry about me. as far as the threesome, i want the first time to mainly be you and her with me watching. then if you want to try some stuff, we can make out and go from there. what would you like the threesome to be like?” tyler asked, wanting some of josh’s input. he was really curious how far josh was willing to go. 

“jenna’s cool with me banging her? wow, i had no idea. i always got the vibe she just liked me as a friend. and yeah, making out with you sounds awesome. i would be more comfortable if jenna was in control and directing the whole thing. i’d probably rather her be on top.” josh explained. his face heated up at the images of threesomes in his mind. he tried to turn a little because his cock was already swelling and he didn’t want tyler to see how eager he was for all this to happen. his and tyler’s relationship has always been platonic, with little spices of flirting and touching here and there. there was actually lots of sexual tension, just never crossing any boundaries that would lead to something. he felt both liberated, and relieved he’d no longer be the 3rd wheel. 

“of course she is, jeez! have you not seen her checking you out, especially when you’re all shirtless with those shorts riding so dangerously low on your hips? even i can’t ignore that. you’ll be a fucking hot addition to our marriage. we’ll talk with jenna tomorrow. also, i can see you trying to hide that boner, josh. you’re not fooling me. would you like to practice the making out now, maybe?” tyler asked a really antsy looking josh. 

“you guys talked about this a lot, huh?” josh asked, grinning. the fact that his hot friends were checking him out and talking about getting him in bed, probably while post-coitus, turned him on more than it should. “yes, tyler. let’s make out! can you imagine how crazy our fans would go if they knew this? with the fan fic…” josh joked as tyler scooted right up to him on the couch and wrapped his arm around him. tyler didn’t say anything, just stared at josh and brought his face closer while closing his eyes and puckering his lips. josh melted at the sight and closed the distance, kissing his closed lips slowly and softly. josh felt tyler exhale through his nose and kept still, lips parting a little, and josh parted his lips and pressed them to his. his cock literally twitched when when tyler sucked his bottom lip and slid his tongue over it, and he let a moan slip. his eyes shot open to see tyler smiling lazily at him. 

“fuck, tyler. you’re a good kisser. your lips are amazing.” josh confessed, and tyler giggled softly. 

“thanks, you too. c’mere” tyler said before attacking josh’s lips again, pulling him closer by his neck and really leaning into it. josh loved feeling tyler’s wet lips on his, his tongue pushing into his mouth, and his warm body crowding him. as they passionately made out while holding each other close. it was only serving to exacerbate josh’s problem. he didn’t try to check, but from tyler’s whimpers and how desperate he was sounding, he knew tyler had a problem as well. 

“do you, want to uh maybe, dryhumpmetilwebothcum?” tyler asked quietly, trying not to push josh too much. 

“i’m sorry ty, what did you say?” josh asked, smirking at tyler’s sudden bashfulness.  

“we can grind on each other. that’s part of making out, right?” tyler asked, fingers toying with the curly hairs on the nape of josh’s neck. 

“it’s a little more second base i think, but yeah” josh answered, pushing tyler onto his back. josh rubbed himself through his shorts, adjusting his erection before rubbing tyler through his skinny jeans. “are these gonna get in the way?” josh asked, unbuttoning tyler’s jeans. tyler just nodded, too breathless and shaky from how aroused he was. josh pulled them down his thighs, and tyler lifted his hips, then feet so josh could get them all the way off. he settled between tyler’s thighs, finally letting his bulge touch tyler’s. a jolt of pleasure shot through both of them, causing tyler to buck his hips and josh to grind down on him. they moaned together, and josh dipped in to lick and suck the hot, tanned skin on tyler’s throat as his head tilted back. 

“feels so good, josh” tyler moaned as josh continued marking up his neck. tyler bucked his hips up towards the friction while running his hands up and down josh’s back under his hoodie to feel bare skin and muscles. josh started out grinding on tyler fairly slow, but picked up the pace as tyler’s sounds got more desperate. he was back to kissing tyler’s lips again, tongues sliding together once again. 

“you c-close, ty? i’m close” josh mumbled into the crook of tyler’s neck. 

“yessss josh, oh my god. just don’t stop” tyler whined, meeting josh’s aggressive thrusting and relishing in his sex noises. he focused on the pressure of josh’s cock pressed against his, josh’s weight on top of  him, and how josh nipped at his tongue with a particularly good thrust. tyler moaned loudly as his body threatened to give in. the only thing he could say exuberantly was joshjoshjoshjosh while tapping josh’s back. 

“go ahead tyler, we’ll go together. i’m ready” josh cooed, thrusting harder in anticipation. tyler held is hips up, letting josh continue grinding him until his cock started spurting and wetting the front of his briefs. josh released at the same moment, cumming hard while rolling his hips slower and giving little panting moans. tyler watched josh’s face as he came as his cock gave another spurt. 

“oh my godddd aaaahh” tyler groaned embarrassingly loud. josh collapsed on top of him for a moment, and tyler kissed josh’s neck while rubbing his back. 

“you’re incredibly seductive, you know that, tyler?” josh asked, shifting to an upward position to peel off his clothes. 

“well you’re incredibly good with your hips” tyler retorted, knowing it had to do with his rhythm and drumming abilities. it was actually pornographic, the way he naturally knew how to add just the right amount of pressure and speed. 

“i guess because i’m a drummer? and drummers know how to bang things with sticks.” josh joked, knowing it sounded beyond nerdy. 

“we should change our clothes though, and hide these at the bottom of the laundry. we don’t need the others seeing our cum stains” tyler said, adding his clothes to josh’s pile and rooting through his bag for fresh clothes. seeing each other naked and getting dressed was nothing new. but it’s safe to say they have officially crossed out of the friendzone by making each other cum. 

huffingtonpost.com
#LovingDay: 50 Years After The Loving Verdict, A Photo Essay Looks Back On Their Love
Remembering the couple who brought down anti-miscegenation laws in 16 U.S. states.

Monday, June 12, marks the 50th anniversary of the landmark United States Supreme Court decision Loving v. Virginia, which quashed anti-miscegenation laws in 16 states around the nation, ushering restrictions against interracial marriage to the wrong side of history.

The date is now remembered as Loving Day in honor of Richard and Mildred Loving, the couple who defied the state’s ability to dictate the terms of their love based on their skin color. Mildred, who was of African American and Native American descent, and Richard, who was white, wed in 1958 in Washington D.C., because interracial marriage was illegal in their native rural Virginia, as well as 15 other Southern U.S. states.

When the Lovings returned to Virginia, however, local police raided their home one early morning after being tipped off by another resident. They declared the Lovings’ marriage license invalid within the scope of the state, placing the couple under arrest.

The Lovings pled guilty to “cohabiting as man and wife, against the peace and dignity of the Commonwealth,” and were sentenced to one year in prison. A judge later agreed to suspend the sentence if Mildred and Richard left Virginia and did not return for 25 years.

The couple relocated to Washington, D.C., but they did not end their story there. In 1964, attorneys from the ACLU filed a motion on behalf of the Lovings, requesting the charges and sentences against the Lovings be dropped. The Lovings appealed the local ruling all the way to the Supreme Court, where their sentence was unanimously overturned in 1967.

“Under our Constitution,” Chief Justice Earl Warren said in his decision, “the freedom to marry, or not marry, a person of another race resides with the individual and cannot be infringed by the State.”

Two years before this verdict, in the spring of 1965, Life magazine photojournalist Grey Villet spent time with the Lovings, as well as their family and friends, documenting the lives of a couple whose love had transcended the everyday to become the stuff of legends.

Villet’s photo essay, titled “The Lovings: An Intimate Portrait,” captures Mildred and Richard when word of their civil rights battle was spreading throughout the country and the fate of their relationship remained unknown. Through black-and-white images, the photographer captures the subtle glances, spurts of laughter and moments of quiet determination that, together, comprise a love story whose power echoes today.

We commemorate the Lovings’ bravery and tenacity in the face of prejudice and the systems of white supremacy. Villet’s photos help us remember the Lovings not just for what they represented, but who they were. The simple moments of connection, support and companionship that provided the strength to change the world.

The Lovings: An Intimate Portrait is available on Amazon.

Prank’d

@ask-sadisticdark @ask-psychoanti

The REAL sequel to Anti’s Antics:


All was quiet when Dark began his late afternoon meditations. He sat upright in his chair tucked behind his desk, hands flat on his thighs. He was letting go of his thoughts one by one as he slowly relaxed. All he focused on was his own needless breathing, in and out; his diaphragm contracting and relaxing. He was nearly total Zen when he was rudely interrupted, by loud incoherent Irish screaming- very close by. Dark’s eyes cracked open quick as a whip, and he lowered his eyes to the source of the screaming.

               There on his desk was a bouncing, vibrating alarm-clock, emanating the sound of Jack’s voice yelling. On the face of the clock it had a small Anti; arms depicted as the long and short hand. It displayed ten-fifty p.m.; the arms were placed in a perfect dab. It took only a second for Dark’s fingers to close over the object and crush it in his grasp. The loud screaming cut out- bolts and screws rolling all over the desk as he crumpled the clock to bits. His hand then opened, letting the broken pieces roll away. His teeth ground together audibly, jaw clicking with the force.

               “ANti!” Dark bellowed, standing up from his desk, his form snapping and blurring at the edges. His eyes burned with endless rage. Then suddenly something fell from the blackness of above, landing on his desk with a loud slam. It was a gift box, wrapped with bright green cellophane. Dark squinted, preparing to set it aflame. But before he could will it to happen, the boxes lid suddenly opened on its own. In an unexplainable burst, much like an explosion, thousands of third dimensional pennies and pieces of confetti spurted into Dark’s face. Dark was still for a moment; eyes closed as he waited patiently for the pennies to stop hammering against his face. He was only patient for one reason, the thought of what he would do to Anti for it.

               The pennies finally ceased after a moment or two, the small cuts in Dark’s face closed over and he glanced down at the box. Within it was a small piece of white paper, with a crudely drawn picture of Anti dabbing. With a messily written ‘gottee’ above the picture. Suddenly Dark’s hand whipped through the air, slapping the box off of his desk in fury with the back of his hand. He seethed and muttered curses as his eyes darted around, searching for Anti.

               His gaze fell to the floor again, and he noticed a trail of pennies leading into the darkness. His eyes narrowed in slits. “You know how this will end.” He said clearly, knowing perfectly well that Anti could hear him. Once he received no response he decided to follow the path, head downcast in focus. He would humor whatever Anti was playing at, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t enlighten him on the consequences. “The more you add to this childish game you’re playing, the more limbs I will remove from your senseless body.”

               There was still no response, which pleased and annoyed Dark at the same time. On one hand it meant that Dark could persuade Anti for longer of a time, on another it meant Anti wasn’t ready to end the foolish pranks he set out for him. Dark finally reached the end of the trail, his jaw dropping at what he saw in front of him. “What the fu-u…”

Placed on a pile of pennies was a body pillow of himself, depicting an expression of lust, blushing with his mouth open. Dark was silent, right before his form began to flicker and grow in terrifying proportions, fingers clenching into shuddering fists. “You… You… you moronic…imbecilic little-“

               Hours later, irish screaming was still heard from a different place. A place behind concrete walls.

               Dark would finish his task with Anti to discover his desk drawers filled with pennies, the pillow of him sitting atop the chair. It was no use.

               This was his life now.

Ghost - Part 6 - Jungkook angst

Originally posted by officialwookkibby

This part has been uploaded way faster than usual because I felt so awful for making you all wait so long for each update D: Please forgive me

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Final Part
___________________________

Jungkook was pacing up and down in front of your hospital room that he was borderline sick of.

“Are you family?” The nurse asked him, eyes full of sympathy for the clearly distressed man who was nearing tearing his hair out in panic.

“Yes! I am! What’s going on?” He was desperate for information, not being polite to the nurse.

“It seems Y/N has gone into cardiac arrest due to a sudden increase in heart impulses- I’m sorry, but you can’t go in there sir!”

Jungkook had dodged around the nurse, heading towards your door with his hand outstretched when one of the hospital personnel stopped him, placing a hand on his upper arm and pulling him to a stop.

“Sir, please stay out here whilst the doctors do their job.”

Now Jungkook was still pacing, long after he had arrived here, and his members were all sitting in the waiting room in various states of unrest too. He had no idea the exact amount of time he had been here, but he had been pacing the entire time, fingernails raking against his scalp harshly to try and find something to grip onto.

What was going on in there? What was taking so damn long? Were you going to be okay?

The same questions had been fired at every single staff member who walked past, even those that had no idea what he was talking about, but Jungkook was relentless. If nobody was going to tell him what was going on in there, he had to find some other way.

“That’s my daughter! My youngest child in there! Fighting for her life! Who are you to tell me what to do!?” A carnal scream echoed down the hallway, startling the members and causing all heads to turn in that direction. Dread washed over Jungkook, although he didn’t know why. He didn’t know the person that was screaming-

“Jungkook! I see you! Come here and tell this infernal guard who I am!”

Jungkook’s stomach dropped to his knees and he could have fainted with the sudden lightheadedness he felt. He locked eyes onto the woman that he used to know all those years ago, the years he had of scraped knees and sticky fingers. Those years of tears caused by accidents and hushed whispers. Of comforting his sobbing best friend and treating her bruises, inflicted by the one woman who was meant to protect her. Those years of visiting the park and pushing her on the swings. Those moments of awkward phases and growth spurts, of failed exams and secret sleepovers.

He knew your mother all those years ago, but he never expected to see her again. Not like this.

“Jeon Jungkook, what are you waiting for! Tell him!”

He slowly walked towards her, holding a hand out to the older of the members who stood up at Jungkook’s movement, aiming to hold him back from the potentially dangerous woman.

He remained a small distance from her, eyeing her warily and noting that her age had caught up with her. He did not tell the guard to let go of her and let her pass, but stood behind the guard, much to your mother’s displeasure.

“Listen here, you-”

“What are you doing here?” Jungkook had no time for formalities or politeness, elder or not, and made his distaste at the sight of her clear in the curl of his lip and furrow of his brow. “You have no right to be here.”

“What are you saying? She’s my daughter!”

“You lost the right to call her that when you kicked her to the streets when she was sixteen.” Jungkook said in a stern voice. The woman’s hair was falling out of the sloppy bun, grey wisps curling around her lined and thin face.

“What rubbish are you speaking? I never kicked her out! She made the decision to leave herself!”

“No, actually, I distinctly remember you telling her to ‘get out of your house’ and threatening to ‘give her something proper to cry about’.” She opened her mouth to retort, but Jungkook left no room for argument. “You don’t deserve to see her. You don’t have any rights to be here, and nobody wants you here. You can claim to be her mother all you want, but you’re less of a mother to her than those doctors in there now, fighting to save her life.”

“How dare you talk to me like this?”

“I don’t care what you think. I don’t care how you react to this, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re not setting your sights on Y/N for the rest of your life. You’re a bitter, shrivelled up embarrassment of a person. Get out of my sight.”

“You little-”

“Can you see to it that this woman is escorted off the premises, please, Jaehyuk? And make sure she can’t come back in.” Jungkook said to the burly guard who was holding the woman back. He nodded once, beginning to roughly maneuver the shrieking woman back down the hallway.

Jungkook returned to his position outside your door, resuming his pacing. The other members could do nothing but ogle at the youngest and the appearance of a side of him none of them had ever seen before. Even the oldest of the seven boys were shellshocked, none of them sure what to do or how to react. Until;

“That was so cool!” Taehyung burst, unable to control his excitement.

“Look at you, defending your woman’s honour!” Hoseok chirped.

“I’m a proud father,” Namjoon joked. “You dealt with her admirably, Kook.”

Jungkook said nothing for a few moments. “I never liked that woman. Her cookies were dreadful, and that was before she turned out to be a shitty person.”

It was silent for a while after that, the excitement dying down again and leaving behind only the sombre and tense atmosphere that it had been before the aggressive interruption. Now, all they could do was twiddle their thumbs and avoid looking at each other for too long.

“Jungkook?”

He ignored the voice, assuming it to be one of the members, until it clocked in his head that the voice was somewhat feminine.

He whirled, expecting to see a nurse or a doctor, but was surprised to see it was the girl he had met before, laden with assorted gifts again.

The members all raised their heads to watch the exchange carefully, but Jungkook was too far gone to care.

“What?” He snapped. Admittedly, he could have been more polite (after all, the girl had no idea what was going on) but he couldn’t bring himself to care. His best friend, the closest person he had ever had in his entire life, was fighting for his life in the room that he couldn’t even go inside.

On top of that, your voice had disappeared and he was left completely and utterly alone. It was almost an agony to admit to himself that he had wasted so long ignoring that weird ghost voice and hadn’t taken advantage of that tie to you. He was almost liable to kick himself, but there were more pressing matters on hand.

“Wow, okay, sorry- I’m just wondering, are you okay? I think you’re about to pull all of your hair out and it’d be a shame to lose something so pretty.”

Jungkook could do nothing but blink at her, her words almost not registering in his brain, but the other members were much quicker to catch on. Yoongi raised an eyebrow at her shameless flirting but Jimin and Taehyung were quick to cover their smirks, finding them inappropriate in the current situation.

“What?” Jungkook barked at her, watching her flinch at his harsh tone. A slight smile lifted up her mouth, though, and Jungkook was clueless.

“I’m just saying. What’s going on?”

“Who the fu-”

“I’m very sorry,” Jin was quick to say, standing up to be next to Jungkook and placing a heavy hand on his shoulder, perhaps digging in harder than he should have. “Jungkook’s having a bad time right now, perhaps it would be better to come back later? His girlfriend is in there, you see…”

The girl’s eyes slowly drifted from Jungkook’s face to Jin’s, then to the door, and her eyes widened in recognition.

“Oh God, I did it again- I’m so sorry, Jungkook, I swear I’m not doing this on purpose, I had no idea…” Her voice trailed off. “Is she going to be okay?”

“I have no clue.” Jungkook growled, shrugging off Jin’s grip and beginning his pace.

His girlfriend? His girlfriend? Had Jin really just said, knowing full well the feelings that Jungkook somewhat harboured for the comatose girl? Had Jin really just reminded him of that, causing another wave of confusing and irritating emotions to tide over him?

He could have screamed, he honestly could have.

Maybe he should scream anyway, just to see how people would react.

“You’re welcome to wait, if you’d like, but…” Jin trailed off, subtly hinting that the girl should probably leave, and thankfully she caught on.

“Oh, no, that’s okay! My Mom is probably waiting for me, actually, I’m always late. Here-” She shifted awkwardly, too many little bears and boxes of chocolates to move smoothly. She thrust one of her many stuffed bear toys into Jin’s surprised hands, grinning up at the older man brightly. “Have this for her! I really hope everything goes okay, Jungkook. Good luck, and I’ll be off now!”

Jin bowed to show his gratitude but Jungkook only nodded, changing his action to leaning against the wall and glaring at the door as if it would suddenly burst to flames under his gaze and reveal your happy and healthy form behind it.

He could only hope.

“She was nice.” Hoseok commented offhandedly, watching the girl disappear into the room next to yours, quietly shutting the door behind her. Jin nodded, setting the bear on it’s own seat next to Taehyung who immediately picked it up and started playing with it’s hands and cooing as if it was a child.

“What do you think is taking so long?” Yoongi commented quietly to Namjoon who was sitting next him, legs crossed and beanie shoved onto his unwashed hair that was in desperate need of a cut. Namjoon shrugged, sighing helplessly.

“It shouldn’t be taking this long, hyung,” Namjoon said. “I have no idea what could be going on in there.”

“Poor kid must be going insane.” Yoongi said, turning his gaze to Jungkook’s obviously defeated form.

“I know I would be. Did you hear what Jin said?”

“About Y/N being his girlfriend? I did. Did you see Jungkook’s face?”

“I didn’t, I was focusing on that girl,” Namjoon said, locking his phone and turning to face Yoongi who was still staring at Jungkook. “What did he look like?”

“Like he’d been both shot and given a new pair of Timberlands at the same time. There’s no way to describe that juxtaposition of those emotions on his face.” Yoongi said, and Namjoon said nothing in return, merely nodding slightly.

Yoongi knew that Jungkook had some kind of feelings towards you, but the younger had never really mentioned them to the rapper and Yoongi wasn’t sure that Jungkook even knew what it was that caused him to care so much for you. It was painfully obvious, however, in the way that Jungkook’s features would soften immeasurably when speaking about you and his eyes took on a glint that had never been seen before. It was obvious in the way that he would look at you when you weren’t already watching him, and the way he would rush out to meet you whenever you asked to hang out. It was obvious in the way that Jungkook simply stood next to you; he didn’t have to even look in your direction, but his body was subconsciously angled towards you as if he was constantly giving you attention even when he wasn’t.

It was obvious to everybody apart from Jungkook and Yoongi found himself wanting to smack him as hard as he possibly could to make him realise.

Even if you didn’t make it.

Suddenly gripped with emotion, Yoongi quietly excused himself to the bathroom and walked away from the group of people sitting in silence.

Sometimes, that much silence was too loud. It was slightly suffocating and Yoongi hated the constant reminder that something awful was currently happening.

It should not be taking that long.

*

“Mr Jeon Jungkook?” It was the same nurse that called him, and despite his grogginess, his head snapped up and he all but jumped to his feet at the sight of her.

“Any news?”

“Yes, I’m happy to say that it’s good news for once!” she said, smiling at the shock that dawned over his face. In the background, the members all gaped at each other. “Y/N is awake, and she’s asking for you.”

Jungkook all but smashed himself through the door in his eagerness to see you, tears of happiness welling up in his eyes immediately at the sight of you sitting up.

You looked awful. You looked like you had died a thousand deaths and come back each time, but you were smiling at him, your own tears in your eyes and Jungkook could have sworn that he had never seen anybody so beautiful in his entire life.

“Oh God,” he whispered, standing frozen in the doorway until Hoseok physically pushed him in and shut the door behind him, claiming that they were going to wait outside to give them some alone time. “It’s you. You’re awake.”

“I’m awake.”

You throat was unbearably throaty, and seemed to be causing you some pain as you swallowed awkwardly with a grimace across your face. He basically tripped forwards in his rush to pour you a glass of water from the side table and he stepped forwards cautiously, careful not to touch you in case he was dreaming and the sight of you burst into nothing at the slightest physical contact.

It had happened before, anyway.

You drank deeply, eyes fluttering shut, and Jungkook could do nothing but revel.

You had been in a coma for the better part of a year and you still managed to knock the breath straight out of his lungs.

It had taken him the worst parts of a year to realise, but he was absolutely besotted with you, and he could have thrown himself from your window as punishment for his ignorance.

How could he had been so foolish? How could he have gone on so long, bereft of your love and affection, and not realise his feelings for you?

He was so unbearably in love with you that it almost hurt him to look at you staring up at him.

“Why are you crying, dumbass?” you coughed and the sound of your voice, the insult, the croakiness, was too much for him and he was reduced to sobs and he placed the cup back down, falling to his knees next to you and grasping onto your hand.

You returned the grip with equal vigour, interlocking your fingers, and he almost gasped in relief at the feeling. It had been too long since he had touched you and finally, to grasp onto you like this, was like pure heroine flowing through his veins.

Already he was completely addicted to you.

“I’m not,” he said, sniffing slightly. “It’s raining outside, my face is just wet.”

“Of course. Is that why your eyes are all red and your face is puffy?”

“It’s acid rain. Don’t go outside today.”

Laughing gently at his comments, you turned to face the ceiling again and leant further into your pillow.

“My head fucking hurts.”

“I bet it does.”

Sure, your hair was shorter than his. Yes, you had a thick scar that curved over your scalp and came down slightly over your forehead. Yeah, you hadn’t showered for a long, long time, and indeed, you were looking a little worse for wear, but Jungkook had never felt so much happiness condensed into such a short moment in his entire existence.

*

“So,” he commented, sitting cross-legged at the end of your bed, using his chopsticks to pick up some noodles out of the pot he had purchased from the convenience store on his way here. You did the same, though you were still half lying down, finding sitting up drained your energy incredibly quick. “Was that actually you? The voice, I mean. Do you remember?”

You nodded and his heart came up to rest in his throat.

“I remember,” you said, putting some noodles in your mouth and closing your eyes to revel in the taste. He had never seen someone eat instant noodles with so much adoration on their face. “You were so annoying in the beginning, ignoring me and whatnot.”

“What was I supposed to think! My best friend, who was in a coma, was communicating with me?”

“I just can’t believe you’d ignore me like that. I thought I meant more to you.”

He laughed, but his heartstring were being pulled painfully. You were joking, but he took that to heart; you meant more to him than either of you could have imagined and the suggestion that you didn’t wanted him to cry again.

Of course, he wouldn’t cry again after the blubbering mess he was the week before when you had woken, but he certainly felt like it sometimes.

This had been the most stressful experience of his entire life, and he was an internationally famous kpop idol.

“How are the boys doing?” you asked, changing the subject. “I didn’t get to say thank you to them for all the flowers before they were shooting off to practise.”

“Ah, yeah,” he scratched the back of his head, glancing at what looked like a pop-up florist on the table at the back of the room.

The members didn’t know what your favourite kind of flower was, and Jungkook was completely useless in that area, so they had come together and gotten you a bouquet of flowers of every type from the florist down the road from BigHit.

“About that…”

“It’s fine! I love them so much, my room smells amazing and it makes a nice difference from the dull whites and greys.”

“Right. Well, they’re okay. We skipped a lot of practise to come and visit you when you were sleeping, so now Bang PD is working all of us into skeletons for our next comeback.”

“Oh God, you shouldn’t have, seriously! I wasn’t going to go anywhere. Now you all have to suffer because of me.”

“Y/N, even if you had a papercut or you tripped over something, or- or you stubbed your toe, I’d drop everything and rush to you immediately.”

It was a deep and dull ache, a consistent longing. Jungkook wanted nothing more than to confess, to tell you exactly how he felt for you and what the past few months have been like for him. He wanted to tell you what it felt like to hold your hand, touch your skin, even be near you. He wanted to tell you what your presence did to his heartbeat and what it did to his mood. He wanted to tell you all of these things but-

But he couldn’t.

“Jungkook-ah.” The maknaes head snapped up, meeting the gaze of Bang PD and halting his steps, letting the others complete the choreography around him as he dodged out the way and walked towards the door where the older man was.

“Yes?” Jungkook said, tone as light and friendly as possible. Jungkook knew that he was in trouble for his behaviour over the last few months, but he didn’t want to make it easy for the older man to scold him.

“It’s… Come to my attention the feelings you harbour for Y/N,” All of the blood drained out of Jungkook’s face. How had he found out? Had one of the members told him? No, they wouldn’t do that, knowing the risk. Had Jungkook really been that obvious? Was it clear to everybody except himself? “Usually, I would just leave it, but your performance recently…”

Jungkook gulped.

“Well, some of my bosses aren’t particularly impressed. Especially your scandal with that woman in the hallway of the hospital,” Jungkook could curse your mother’s name for being such an infuriating woman and immediately rushing to whatever lowly news outlet that would listen and telling them what he had done to her, the majority of which were tall tales. Honestly, who would actually report that Jungkook had shoved the woman and gotten physically aggressive without any kind of evidence or proof? “And we’ve all come to the agreement that you dating anybody, in particular Y/N, wouldn’t be a good idea.”

Jungkook closed his eyes, refusing to face the reality.

“I’m sorry, kiddo. I know how much you like her, but you know how serious these kinds of scandals are. Having a dating scandal on top of that? People would find out about Y/N, and her accident and the nature behind it, and then you’d be in even more hot water because of your involvement.”

Jungkook wasn’t listening.

“You know I don’t make the rules, Kook, but sometimes you have to make sacrifices in this line of work.”

Jungkook was well aware of this. He had already sacrificed most of his life for this; his health, his sleep, his education, his family, all of his friends, even his home. He just didn’t think he’d ever have to sacrifice his feelings for you too, as if he wasn’t human. As if he was some kind of robot that could let go of such a magnitude of affection and adoration. It wasn’t fair, and Bang PD seemed to be aware of that with the gentle squeeze of Jungkook’s shoulder.

“I’m really sorry, kiddo.”

Jungkook smiled sadly at his noodles, stabbing back into the pot with perhaps too much vigour. He was completely content, listening to you jabber on excitedly, asking him thousands of questions about the kinds of things you had missed over the time.

There was a bit of emotion in the middle of your gushing as you learnt that you had lost your job and quite possibly your friends, who hadn’t visited you even once in hospital, but your mood quickly picked up as you listed all of the bakeries and café’s you wanted to go to again, and the phone calls you needed to make to your brother who lived overseas.

Yes, he was completely content. He was okay with only being a passive part of your life. He was happy with watching you grow into a beautiful woman, and he was alright with watching you instead of loving you like he wanted to.

Indeed. He was okay with watching over you like he was some kind of a ghost.
_______________________

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Final Part

Korotan D: English Translation of Chapter 1

Plus page 1 of Korotan D (pictured above) as a bonus since there’s no original art for this chapter. If you’re curious what Korosensei is saying, its:

“If you master the exercises in this book, your chances to pass your entrance exams will sharply rise!”

This chapter heavily features Karma and Nagisa. We also get a little bit of Kayano, Nakamura, and Isogai, and also a line or two from Kurahashi, Yada, Okajima, Takebayashi, Yoshida, Itona, and Terasaka.

I’ve added the images that are interspersed throughout this chapter at the same points they were located in the book in order to mirror the experience of reading  from the actual book as closely as possible. You’ll see what I mean as you read!

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Wet Myself Outside of the Bathroom!

A tale that happened to me that I put into text form and posted on omorashi.org a few years ago. Hope you all in this neck of the woods as much as they did! :)

Anyone who’s seen me post knows I love those Milovana pee holding interactive challenges. I have a huge imagination and get really into it, I don’t think I’ve done a hold without one since I discovered them. Its been awhile since anyone made a new one, so I got into the habit of doing multiple in a single hold, or even two at once, which was the case today.

And so there I was, in my room. I drank a few mugs of water and tea and waited for things to move along by watching Scrubs. I don’t know what it was about today, whether it was 3 cups of tea’s worth of caffiene or the tight jeans I had put on in advance, or just some other random thing, but it moved along REALLY fast. An hour and a half after I started drinking, I was at the fidgeting stage. I couldn’t stand still, and sitting had become a real burden. It took me really off guard. I started my challenges and for the first time ever, started posting in the live action thread. It’s really unlike me to do that, I don’t know why I did. Maybe I wanted some company for once. Alas, nobody showed up during my hold.

Appearance wise, I was wearing red panties (nothing fancy) and a tight pair of blue jeans. Didn’t bother with a shirt, as it was fairly warm today. For you people who are a fan of picturing things, I’m pretty tiny. Short, tiny frame, skinny, pale, long and obviously-not-well-taken-care-of hair. Pretty much the definition of “Get off your computer and go outside.”

So at this point I had started doing the challenges and tasks, pretty confident that I would do fine, as per usual. I was shaking, and twitching, etc but I felt I could hold on despite the huge pressure in my bladder. But then 10 minutes went by….20 minutes…and before I knew it not only had the pressure nearly doubled, but the challenges were also taking their toll. I could barely believe it. It had all happened so fast. It was to the point I was constantly shaking and had a hand between my legs any time the challenge wasn’t preventing me from doing so. It was getting pretty unbearable but I convinced myself there’s no way its this bad already, its just your psyche getting out of turn. I wish I was right.

Time went on. I dribbled a few times but I felt it was nothing I couldnt handle. I had a grip on this. Until at one point I stopped to type in the live action thread again. Typing of course, requiring both hands. I wasn’t too concerned, just crossed my legs as I bent over to type. But mid sentence, I don’t know what it was, it must have been the way I moved, but I felt a sudden violent dampness as a huge leak shot down my leg. Before I knew it, my inner leg on my jeans had a wet patch from my crotch to my knee. All I could think was, where the hell did that come from? Keep it together.

I probably should have ran to the bathroom right then. You see, I wasn’t home alone. and a full blown wetting and its cleanup would be hard to hide/explain to my brother if he just decided to waltz in during those crucial moments. My main plan if he walked in during the hold itself was to quickly pull a blanket over my chest and yell that I wasn’t wearing a shirt, which would cause him to scurry off somewhere. Thus, I had planned to use the bathroom before it was too late.

Issue was, I’m stubborn. As is usually the objective with holding, I decided since I had regained control after my big spurt, I would wait until the last possible second, not for a moment having the foresight to even think there might be obstacles. It was also that this point I received another huge warning I ignored. You know when your bladder muscles start to fluctuate? Waver? That wobbley feeling, like when you’re carrying something heavy in your arms and they start to go all wobbley under the strain against your will? I got that feeling. And I ignored it, because I’m me.

Time went by, as did a few more dribbles. But I kept telling myself that it wasn’t over yet, that I could go longer. The fresh dampness in my crotch, and the now semi dried patch down my leg would suggest otherwise, but again, stubborn. Then one of the challenges told me the start of my undoing. Every 30 seconds, I had to push on my bladder hard for 5 seconds. And of course, I thought I could do it. Thing is, when I’m pressing on my bladder I don’t use my hands. I don’t find I can push with the right pressure in the right way to ever make it a feasible threat. So what I do is, I tip my chair back so that its on its back legs, and push my lower abdomen into the top of it.

Huge mistake, obviously. The first 5 seconds, I felt my crotch go damp again. A few small spurts. I can do it, I told myself. In the 30 second break between I told myself I had only spurted because I didn’t brace properly, and I just had to go into the next push prepared. So 30 seconds passed. And again I tipped my chair back, closed my eyes, braced myself, and leaned into it. With a bit more weight than I intended.

A leak. A big leak. The biggest so far. My hand shot down as it left my body, but it was a little too late for that. In that moment I felt the wetness gather in my hand,  fall down my leg again, down to my ankle. Some got on the floor. A little spread behind my ass too. I regained control in that split second, but it was also the second that I wasn’t going to maintain the control. I couldn’t. This was it. But I couldn’t risk it, I had already gone too far as it was. My brother could walk in any second, see my wet leg, and ask what the fuck was going on.

And so came the moment. The hail mary. I didn’t have time to throw on a shirt let alone a bra, so I just had to hope he wasn’t in the hallway between my room and the bathroom. There was no time, it was now or never, I could FEEL my control slipping and about to give. I dashed out of my room, one hand between my legs holding on for dear life and one trying to preemptively undo the button of my jeans (And failed, little bugger wouldn’t give)

And I encountered every holders nightmare. The bathroom door was shut. And locked. I could hear the shower going inside. That son of a bitch. I leaned against the door, my forehead and chest pressing into the wood, my fingernails digging into either side of the door and my back slightly arched, pushing my ass out as my legs slammed together, my knees knocking together over and over. I yelled at him to get out. I yelled that I needed to get in right that second. My fingernails dug deep into the door, scratching as my control slipped, a muffled “Sorry, no can do!” coming from inside the bathroom.

I felt it coming. My left hand then alternated between banging on the door, gripping at my crotch, and clawing into the door once more. My chest was heaving against the door, I couldn’t bear to open my eyes and look as it started.

My crotch grew damp. A spurt, and another, and another. The crotch gripping, the clawing, nothing helped. Squeezed my legs together tighter, still nothing. It was coming out, slowly but steadily. I gripped my left thigh as I felt my pee seep out and crawl down the back of my leg. I tried so hard. Knocking my knees, gripping at everything I could, frantically trying to stop it or slow it down. Shaking, writhing, I felt it continue to pour out and reach the back of my knee. I heard drops hit the floor. This couldn’t be happening. Wetting myself after a good hold was one thing, not being able to stop it when it mattered most was another thing entirely. My control was still sort of there, but not nearly enough to stop the flow completely. I felt it spread across my lower ass and inner thigh. The other leg now too, I could feel it running down. Something in that made me lurch, pressing my chest into the door harder. Something about that movement hit my bladder, and suddenly whatever slight control I still had was gone. I gasped loudly as my crotch suddenly grew a lot warmer, as did my inner legs, I could feel the flow go from a creeping dribble into a stream. Of course I grabbed my crotch, but my hand was soaked almost instantly. I let out a cry as I started soaking myself, trying anything and everything. Thigh gripping, moving my legs, crossing them, frantically hopping slightly just trying to get it to stop but the more I tried the harder it all came out. I felt my ass, my legs, everything become completely soaked and warm. A stream was gently but firmly pitter pattering onto the floor, my jeans on my right leg having become far too saturated for it to just climb down my leg itself anymore at this intensity. I fought and cried and yelled and moaned, fighting until the bitter end. But there was no way around it…I was completely and thoroughly wetting my pants, right outside the bathroom against my will like a little girl. As I stopped shaking and bouncing and switching my legs all over the place, my fingers tired from violently gripping at every part of my thighs and crotch I could get ahold of, I just became exhausted. Soaked and defeated, I turned around and slowly slumped to the ground against the door, wetting myself all the way. My bladder had NO control anymore, and I was still going. My mind just blanked out as I sat on the ground, watching my already massive puddle continually expand due to the now very audiable hissing in my jeans. It was by far the greatest wetting I had ever had, and the scary circumstances made it incredibly exciting and erotic. My chest heaved, my breathing heavy as my bladder finished emptying itself. All my mind could process now was the near orgasmic relief and the “Holy shit, that just happened, and it was incredible” type thought.

Until my brain finally re-clicked into the sound of the shower going, and realized that the moment my brother opened the door, he’d find me sitting there, naked from the lower waist up, having lost control and peed in my pants in the hallway, everything I was wearing having been completely drenched, with a puddle leading from under me in all directions, and almost to the door opposite me. My stomach dropped so fast. My mind went in all directions, and suddenly I was up, running through the house in my soaking wet jeans, trying to manage to somehow clean this up before my brother got out of the shower. I ran downstairs, grabbed two towels from the laundry, ran back up, and cleaned it up and cleaned it good. Both towels ended up completely soaked. I heard the shower stop. I ran into my room and got my jeans off as fast as I could, and threw them and the towels under my bed as soon as I could. I heard him coming and I was just standing there in my wet panties, all I had time to do was throw on a T-shirt. The big kind I wear to bed. And sit down at my computer desk. He just walked in without knocking, as he does, and asked what all my insane fuss at the door was about. I told him I thought I was late for a get-together and needed my makeup that second, but then realized it was tomorrow and not today. I sat almost frozen, hoping he wouldn’t notice my wet legs glistening. I felt the lower black of my shirt get wet as I sat on it in my wet panties, and reaaaally tried not to think about it. Just sat and smiled and blinked and waited for him to accept it and leave, which he did, shaking his head and calling me a nutjob.

Then I just sat there in silence and waited for the telltale shut of his bedroom door, meaning he was going in to play COD or something. Once I was sure he was in, I switched out of my wet undies and now slightly damp shirt into jammies, and fished out everything from under my bed and snuck to the laundry room with it. I thought I was scot free until he questioned the wet footprints downstairs. I went beet red and just told him that I had spilt some water earlier and must have stepped in it. He gave me a really questioning gaze and I turned redder, but for a non-omo enthusiast he obviously didn’t come to the conclusion any of you would have, and just accepted it and moved on.

Anywho, that was my day today. I hope you enjoy! Please leave feedback, as writing this stuff out isn’t something I do often and I’d love to know what people think. If this is good and I’m good at telling it, I might write about my future experiences as well. Please let me know anything and everything you think! I think I drank too much, I had to go to the bathroom again in the middle of writing this.

Fate - Mark (Day 71/100)

You can find my post explaining the 100 Day Drabble Challenge here

To view the masterlist of drabbles for the challenge, click here

Prompt: Fate
Member: Mark x Reader
AU: Soulmate!AU - Everyone is born with a timer on their left wrist that tells them how much time their soulmate has left to live and a compass on their right wrist that tells them the direction their soulmate is currently in and how many miles away they are

Word Count: 3,903

TRIGGER WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF DEATH
. This one is rather angsty and it got crazy long crazy fast~


How had this happened?

You stared down at the clock tattooed on your wrist in disbelief. Your chest tightened and you suddenly felt the air in the room leave completely.

00:02:21:17:49:12

Two months, twenty-one days, seventeen hours, forty-nine minutes, and twelve seconds. That’s how long your soulmate had to live.

You paced around the living room, trying to decide what to do. The compass on your other wrist still pointed southeast and was shining the number 2,076. He hadn’t moved, so what had happened? Was he in an accident? Did he have an illness? He had 62 years just yesterday, so why was it suddenly so low?

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Merlin, I Love Him.

Prompt: Drarry with Divorced!Hinny and little side of Scorbus.

(Yes, I finally write Scorbus. Please forgive me for making personal characterization on Scorpius and Albus as I haven’t read The Curse Child.)

Dedicated for @outtacuppa, hope you like this one.

Sometime around midnight, the Floo in the Manor is finally ablaze with green fire. Draco Malfoy makes his entrance inside the vast living room, while Scorpius and Albus sit before the chimney, curiously looking at him. Feeling a little bit vulnerable, Draco follows their action and sits before them to make a circle.

“So?” Scorp starts asking with a barely contained excitement. “Father, spill the whole story!” Draco smiles at him once before shaking his head.

“Mr. Malfoy?” Albus’ very familiar green eyes get very confused in a sudden.

“Well, we had a very lovely date, but he said no.” Draco sighs –huh, even his sigh sound small and sad. Potter has really done a number on him.

“HE SAID NO?!” Albus snaps; tsk, very much like his father. Albus once again starts pacing on the expensive rug, trying to wrap his mind on this piece of information. After a very long moment, he can’t conjure a single idea. “But why?” he finally asks softly. Scorp looks at the both of them with heavy concern.

“I don’t know, he didn’t explain.” Draco eyes fall to the hand that is holding his. Scorp squeezes once, telling his father that he’s here with him. Draco smiles at him.  “Hey, Al, it’s okay, yeah?” Draco tries to soothe the fuming boy in front of him. “It’s okay, he must have his reasons.” Albus only shakes his head sadly, which makes Draco stands up and hugs the boy. Huh, shouldn’t he be the one getting hugged?

“I can try to talk some sense into him?” Albus asks quietly and tightens his hug on Draco’s being.

“Hey, no, Al, there’s no need for that. It’s okay, let him sleep on it, maybe one day he’ll be ready to spill his reasons. Not today.” Albus steps back from the hug and turn his sad eyes to Scorp, which makes Draco chuckles. “Hey, none of that, either. Your friendship should not be tainted with whatever’s going on with your parents. Go keep being friends or whatever.” Albus smiles softly at Draco.

“What about you? What will happen after this?”

“Well, I think I’ll open one of my best bottles of wine tonight and enjoy that. Time will reveal the rest, Albus. Don’t worry, I’ll be okay, eventually.” Albus nods at that.

“Well then, I’ll bid you all adieu. For what it’s worth, I believe you deserved better, Mr. Malfoy. See you at Kingcross in two days, Scorp!”

“Send my birthday wishes to your father.”

“Will do.” And with that, Albus’ form is being consumed by the green fire.

“Need a company tonight, Dad?” Scorp asks his father innocently, which Draco laughs openly. It’s good to hear his laugh.

“There’s no way young man. You’re barely 14!” And then Draco feels the force of Scorpius hug.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Scorp says quietly with heavy concern in his voice. Draco strokes his blond hair and smiles at him.

“I’ll be okay.”

Lie.

“It’s only a rejected proposal, Scorp.”

Blatant lie.

“Us, Malfoys, are much stronger than that.”

Absolute, total, downright bollocks.

*

“Morning, dad.” Albus runs down the stair before attacking his father in a big hug. Harry chuckles at that, but even then Albus can hear the tiredness in his voice. He steps back to examine his father condition –definitely not getting any sleep, judging by the dark circles under his eyes. He sighs softly and goes back to hugging his father in a gentler manner. “I have a lot of things I want to say to you in anger right now, but I believe you need a hug more. Happy birthday, dad. For all the right reason, I believe you just made your biggest mistake.” Albus only feels his father’s hug gets tighter and a soft, tired sigh fanning his hair.

*

The Kingcross Station is busy as ever, just like every other week days. Both Harry and Albus walk through the wall that will lead them to Platform 9 ¾. Harry was just finished loading Albus’ trunk into the train when someone pulls him to the side. He goes straight to hug the person when he sees who it is.

“I miss you so much! Why didn’t you visit this month?” he starts fussing James’ hair and face before pulling him back into his chest.

“I miss you too, Dad, sorry I’m seriously busy this month, but I swear I’ll write to you every weekend.” Harry pouts at that, which makes James laughs. “Okay, I’ll stay at yours two weeks before school starts again after Christmas holiday.” Harry’s face must be lit like a Christmas tree.

“Deal. Where’s Ginny? Will she be okay with that arrangement?”

“Oh, I have my way to sway her, don’t worry.”

“Do me a favor and look out for Al at school?”

“Don’t worry, Dad, he has a Malfoy for that. Like father like son, yeah?” James grins at him while playfully raising his brows. Harry’s mood instantly depleted, which makes James frowns. “Oh, trouble in paradise?” Harry only shakes his head with a smile.

“Nothing that concerns you. Have fun at school.”

“Okay.” James goes back for a last hug. “I really miss you.”

“I miss you too, go.” With that James runs to his friends. But there’s someone who suddenly hugs him again, when he turns his body, he’s being greeted with a bushy hair. He immediately hugs her back, but then received a smack on his head. “Ow! Nice to see you too, Hermione.”

“Oh, Harry, why would you even do that? I heard the news just before when I met Al and Scorp.” Harry frowns at her, but Hermione only hugs him again. “I believe you’ll do the right thing, but for whatever you choose, I also believe that he deserve an explanation at the very least.” Harry smiles at that. Hermione is always dependable.

“Rose and Hugh are inside already?”

“Yes, Ron is currently with Ginny and Dean, probably talking about Quidditch. I saw Teddy earlier, he’s looking for you. Go find him!” Hermione shoos him with her hands. It’s not long when Harry finally finds Teddy.

“Teddy!” Teddy’s blue hair is wild under the sun, but suddenly turns into Harry’s black hair, head searching for his Godfather, and then he runs toward Harry, enveloping him in a big hug. What’s with everyone and hugging today? “Hi, old man, ready for your last year?”

“As ready as I can be. Will it be hard?” Harry can see how nervous Teddy is.

“Dunno, never attend my seventh year.” Harry grins, which earns him a smack on his arm.

“I’m serious!”

“Hey, you’re gonna be fine. Seriously, just study hard for your NEWT and it will all be okay. You’re Head Boy, yeah? Put that badge on and show them Teddy Lupin can do anything, especially getting an O on his NEWTs. You’ll be fine.” Teddy smiles sadly at him.

“Will you though? I heard the news. Why Harry? I thought the both of you are happy? Well, at least I’ve never seen you happier than the last four years.” Harry only shakes his head.

“Don’t worry your head over it, it’s okay.” Then Teddy glares at him.

“Well, he’s not okay. Scorp comes to the station alone, Harry. Draco’s still my cousin, so please, fix whatever this is. Make it right even though you chose to break up with him.” Teddy scolds him in a sharp tone before hugging him once and disappears in the throng of students.

“Hi, Mr. Potter!” Harry looks at his right only to find Scorp’s head slips between the compartment’s windows.

“Scorp! You could come with us this morning, you know we won’t mind. Al will be ecstatic.” Scorpius only shakes his head and smiles softly.

“It’s okay, I’ll see Albus in here anyway.” Harry frowns.

“I’m sorry.” He finally says guiltily.

“Not to me, Mr. Potter, no to me.” Scorp only grins before his head is being replaced by Albus.

“Dad, you and I both know how you’re head over heels for him. So whatever the reason behind this spurt in the moment action to reject him, please fix it. We both have our eyes on our Malfoys, yeah? So go get him, and I’ll go get mine. Well, at least tell him why you deny the proposal. He deserves that much and even more for putting up to your shits for the last four years.” Albus honestly just yell at Harry. Many people look at their direction with amused smiles, but the blond hair boy that stands beside Albus in the compartment just stand in shock with his mouth slightly agape.

“Wh-what?” Albus can hear Scorp stutters beside him, so he looks at his poor friend. “What did you just say?” Albus smiles sheepishly, he hasn’t think about what would come out of his mouth before. The blush creeps through his neck to the tip of his ears.

“I said we both have our eyes on our Malfoys, so go get him, and I’ll go get mine.” Scorpius is looking at Albus with wide grey eyes. It cannot get anymore embarrassing than this, so he groans and pulls Scorpius towards him. Both of their lips meet in a hesitant kiss, Albus is giving Scorpius a wide berth to step back and run, but after a moment Scorp’s hands find their home on the nape of Albus’ neck. He takes a step forward and loses himself in the softness of Albus’ lips. They don’t stop, even after the train starts moving, and Harry’s form is out of sight, they don’t stop.

*

Harry understands that his relationship has never worked out before. First with Cho, then with Ginny. He and Ginny got back together about three years after the war, after Harry was certain that he has his mental in a healthy state. It worked for awhile, they had James just at the first years of marriage, and then they had Albus two years after James. At first it was alright, Harry was content and somehow he believed that their family was enough, until one day, it wasn’t. Ginny didn’t want him to be an Auror. Ginny wanted to resume her occupation on Quidditch. Harry didn’t want that because who’s gonna look after James and Albus if the both of them are always out on the field. So, Harry stopped working on the field, he gave up his job to work with high rank behind the desk. He didn’t regret that, he was glad he did that for his kids. But one argument became two, and suddenly there were two dozens of problematic issues inside their family, thus Ginny asked for a divorce. Harry regrets that –oh not the divorce, but how his children had to witness their parents being divorced when James was just starting at Hogwarts and Albus was 9.

Ginny continued her life as a Chaser –a really good one, and then two years after their divorce, she moved on with Dean. James is in her custody as Albus is in his. Albus went to Hogwarts, met with Scorp, and became best buddies. Stick at the hip those two, hence the forced friendship of their fathers. Forced friendship became comfortable company, and then they became each other safe harbour. Before Albus finished his first year, the once so called arch enemy had declared themselves as lovers. That relationship goes strong for four years, until two days ago, when Draco suddenly asked Harry to marry him and he refused.

He knows he’s a complete jerk because when people ask about his reasons, he can’t even conjure one. He didn’t explain anything to Draco. He didn’t explain anything to anyone as he doesn’t even know the answer himself. Does he love Draco? Oh Merlin, he’s worse than Albus’ adoration towards Scorp. Harry is seriously head over heels for the Malfoy Senior. So he’s still quite confused himself on why he rejected the proposal. Hence the reason on why he has been locking himself inside his house for the last two week, searching for those absurd reasons on why he refused the proposal from the only person he ever love that hard.

After two weeks, he finally collects enough courage to stand in front of the Manor grand door. He rings the bell couples of times but there’s no answer, so he lets himself in with the key Draco once gave him. Hunting for Draco Malfoy inside his Manor turns to be a frustrating job when the Manor is as silent as the Forbidden Forest. He almost leaves when he thinks that the house is empty, but he makes sure to check every single room first. Harry finally finds Draco inside one of the guests room, the room they always occupy when Draco and Harry is in the mood for more thorough exploration towards each other. Draco is sleeping, curled into a small ball on the mattress. At first, Harry is relieved to find him in a peaceful state, but then he notices that Draco’s breath is slow –too slow for a sleeping human. He immediately spots a couple of phials on the bedside drawer. Calming Draught –Harry decides after sniffing it.

Shit.

Drinking two phials of Calming Draught all at once is fucking suicide.

“Draco! Draco!” Harry turns the sleeping body to his back, noticing the dark circles under his eyes even as he sleeps. Oh Draco. Harry fishes his wand from the holder in his ribs before pointing it at Draco’s heart. “Ennervate!” Nothing, the heartbeats are still to slow. “Ennervate!” At that Draco jerks and gasps, his eyes opening in a shock manner. “Thank Merlin, oh Draco, thank Merlin!” Harry mutters under his breath. Draco’s eyes focus on the person before him.

“Harry?” he asks confusedly, which makes Harry’s blood boils in anger.

“What are you doing, Draco?! You of all people should know everything about potion! You git, what are you trying to achieve by downing two phials of Calming Draught?! Merlin, I have to hit you twice with Ennervate, fuck , Malfoy! You want to kill yourself, is that it?!” Draco only stares at Harry with wide eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

“I am here because I want to apologize for being an arsehole! I thought you’ll be here being sad, or angry beyond reason, or whatever, and I want to fix my mistakes, but no, Draco, I found you almost dead! Fuck, I can’t do this. Sort yourself, I’m downstairs if you want to talk.” With that he leaves Draco and goes downstairs, preparing tea for two. After a few moments, Harry finally calms down and Draco finally sits beside him on the sofa, looking more collected than before, but still not the usual Malfoy’s look. His long blond hair for once is free on his back, not being brushed or styled to perfection. Harry notices he has lost weight, face has become a bit pointier, high sharp cheekbones more pronounce than ever, but the dark circles under his eyes completed his haughty look. “You look like shit.”

“I have mirrors if you want to compare our looks.” Draco snaps sharply.

“How long did you sleep?”

“18 hours.”

“Oh Draco…” Harry’s common sense seems to run out of the window because he suddenly hugs Draco’s form without a care in the world. Draco goes rigid under Harry’s display of affection, but after a few seconds he turns around and melts himself inside Harry’s embrace. He feels like a lost little child, vulnerable and sad, but Harry’s embrace is warm and safe so he just melts a little deeper. Harry’s strokes on his long hair feel comforting. This is right. This is where Draco feels the safest. “I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.”

“Why?” Draco’s voice is small and wobbles a bit, which makes Harry hugs him a little bit tighter.

“Honestly, Draco, I don’t even know the exact reason, and I know that you won’t accept that kind of answer, but two weeks of searching and I still cannot figure out why I say no to you.”

“Harry, you do understand you fucking embarrassed me that night, don’t you? So you better have a very good reason on why you said no to me, or I can’t do this anymore.” Draco gets out of Harry’s warm embrace. Harry can see the tears in Draco’s eyes and it breaks his heart all over again. After a moment of silence from Harry’s part, Draco doesn’t actually know what to do. He feels played, embarrassed; he feels cheap. He gave everything of him to this man for three years, but even then he can’t get a solid reason on why he’s being rejected, over and over again –oh yeah, he did remember that this is not the first time he’s being rejected by the famous Harry Potter. Harry suddenly traps his face in his hands and stares deep into his eyes.

“I love you, Draco Malfoy, don’t you ever dare think otherwise even for a second. I fucking love you, so don’t you dare think that I don’t care about you. You’re there beside Albus, and James, and Scorpius on my number one priority. I’m sorry I was an arsehole, I don’t know why I don’t accept your proposal, and I’m not gonna give any excuses. Maybe you caught me off guard, maybe I’m not ready, maybe because I always fail on relationships, maybe I’m afraid you’ll be another Ginny and I don’t want you to be another person I divorced, maybe just because I lost my bloody mind that night. I don’t know, and I’m sorry that I can’t give you any solid reason, but I love you. I love you so very much, and I wanna stay with you until we’re grey and old. I have sorted my mind for the last two weeks, and here I am asking you to take me back, pleading for you to not let me go. And maybe… if you’re still willing, I would like it very much to say yes to your previous offer.” Harry says softly while his thumb keeps wiping the tears that come out of Draco’s eyes. “Please stop crying, Merlin, it breaks my heart to see you like this. I love you, okay? I love you very much, Draco, and I can’t even imagine having a life without you in it, so marry me, Draco Malfoy, marry me?” Draco laughs wetly at that, some twinkles seeps back into his grey eyes.

“Excuse me? No, I propose to you first, we’re not gonna turn this table around.” Draco chuckles again.

“Then, yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.” Harry smiles widely.

“You’re certain this time?” Draco asks as he takes the abandon ring in his pocket and slips it into Harry’s fourth finger when Harry nods with any hesitation. He examines the ring for a second before laughing in amazement and throwing himself into Harry’s embrace.

“I love you, God, I love you so much. Please don’t leave me at the altar?” Harry only tightens his hug.

“There’s no way I let you get snatched by other men, Draco Malfoy, God, I love you too.”

Heart stops

(A/N): I remember writing one like this for Bucky and I loved both of the requests so much! 

Request: Um… I was wondering if you could write a Nat x fem!reader where the reader is having a surgery at the hospital because she got severely injured during a mission and Nat freaked out when the reader’s heart stopped one time during surgery, so while the doctors tries to revive her Nat tearfully screams (Y/N’s) name until the reader’s heart start beating again? And it ends with Natasha kissing the reader before hugging her?

Warnings: swearing, almost death

Tags: @mcuimxgine, @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x, @saradi1018, @holland-toms, @superwholockian309, @fly-f0rever, @capbuckthor, @sxph-t


Originally posted by ladiesnetwork

   Nat pants as she follows alongside the stretcher, unable to stop her eyes form wandering over (Y/N)’s beaten and severely bleeding body. Blood spurted from a wound in their chest and Nat watched fearfully as the color and life drained from their face. Their breath was shallow, their hand weakly squeezing Nat’s as they attempted to splutter something but the never ending flow of blood across their throat and chest made it nearly impossible to breathe, much less talk. 

   (Y/N)’s hand was slowly loosing it’s grip, each second it grew weaker and weaker until (Y/N)’s hand slipped from Nat’s, falling onto the bloodied table with a thump. 

   “Miss Romanoff- Miss Romanoff!” A doctor jogged beside her, attempting to catch her attention. “I’m sorry but you can’t be in this part of the hospital, it’s restricted-” 

   “If you think I’m going to leave (Y/N) like that, laying on some stretcher all alone then you’re fucking crazy,” Nat growls, jogging to catch up with the stretcher, now turning into an operating room. 

   “You can’t go inside the room at least,’ The doctor states, placing a hand on Nat’s shoulder. “You can watch from outside but you’re not allowed in, is that okay?” Nat gulps, watching as tubes and wires are attached to (Y/N), an oxygen mask placed on their face, and the doctors surrounding them begin to wash up while others run around grabbing supplies. Honestly it wasn’t okay, Nat wanted- needed- to be in there with (Y/N) but if she had to wait outside while they operated then so be it. 

   “Yeah,” Nat breathes out, nodding. “Yeah, that sounds good,” 


    This mission was supposed to be simply, a merely exchange of Intel and Nat and (Y/N) would be done but what had started as mere deception quickly turned into something larger. One minute it was Nat and (Y/N) and two other guys, working out a negotiation on some info when one of them slipped up, making it obvious that they weren’t who they really said they were, that they weren’t really there to exchange the information these people had wanted. It could have been so easy, so damn easy, Nat and (Y/N) could have easily taken the two men down but it happened in a flash- a quick glimpse of light across a blade and suddenly (Y/N)’s chest and throat had been sliced, spurting blood immediately. Needless to say Nat took care of the men and rushed (Y/N) here were she was now waiting outside the operating room, watching as the doctors tried miserably to save (Y/N)’s life. 


    The doctors were trying their best to stop the blood, to keep (Y/N) alive, to keep that heart of their pumping but despite their best efforts it was seemingly failing. The blood continued in heavy spurts and their heart levels were depleting rapidly, going from normal one second to nearly 10 beats the next. Nat rose fearfully from her seat, pressing a hand to the glass before her as the doctors hurriedly rushed around, grabbing gauze, tape, anything to stop the blood, but it simply wasn’t working. Before Nat could even comprehend what had happened (Y/N)’s heart dropped, the line attached to the heart monitor going completely still. 

   “(Y/N),” Nat whispers as the doctors move around, all yelling medical terms at each other. “(Y/N),” Nat repeats, this time louder. Her eyes were glued to (Y/N)’s open chest, the blood having stopped spurting, rather a light trickle now. The doctors had succeeded a moment to late. “(Y/N),” Nat’s voice quakes, her eyes blurring with tears. God no, no, this couldn’t be happening, they had to revive (Y/N), oh god, what would she do without them? With a heart wrenching sob Nat fell to her knees, her hands remaining on the window as she sobbed, her whole chest heaving with the effort. “(Y/N)!” She wailed, her voice hurting from the restraint of trying not to scream in pain. 

   “Miss Romanoff if you’d kindly follow me-” 

   “No!” Nat screamed, wrenching her hand away from a nurse who’d attempted to grab it. “No! I’m not leaving this spot, I-I’m not-” 

   “Miss Romanoff, please follow me,” The nurse tugs on her arm once again, urging Nat to follow along. 

   “No! Let go of me!” She screams, the whole hall seeming to shake with the intensity of it. “I’m not leaving them!” Nat could vaguely hear the sounds of triumphant yells from some other room, actually rather close if she thought about it. 

   “We did it!” A muffled voice cried. 

   “We’re not done yet,” Another piped up. “We still have to stop the blood,” Nat scrunched her brow, biting her lip as she hoped- prayed- that the doctors were talking about (Y/N), that her (Y/N) was still alive, that they’d been able to bring them back. With shaky legs Nat stands, almost crying once again when she saw the steady up and down of the line, their heart rate nearly normal once again. The blood had stopped to almost a trickle as the doctors worked quickly and thoroughly, saving (Y/N)’s life. 


   Nat jolted up in her seat, a cold sweat across her skin as she recalled the nightmare she had just had. It was (Y/N), their heart had stopped, but rather than coming back to life they had died on that table with Nat standing outside their room, unable to do anything to stop it. Nat looked to her left, her heart only calming slightly as (Y/N) laid in bed, their chest rising and falling, shakily, but still rising and falling. Bandages covered their neck and chest, keeping their wound safe from the hospital air, bits of blood still coated their skin, and they did have a few bruises here and there but they were alive and that’s all that mattered to Nat. 

   “Nightmare?” (Y/N) rasps, their voice…different than the last time Nat had heard it. 

   “(Y/N)?” Nat questions, her voice soft as thought saying anything louder would disturb the silence. 

   “In the flesh,” (Y/N) cocked their lips up, a smile overtaking their features. 

   “Oh god (Y/N),” Nat murmured as she reached out to hold (Y/N)’s hand, her thumb gently running along the bruised and bloodied knuckles. “I- I thought- “ Her words get caught in her throat, freezing as she tries to articulate them. “Your heart stopped and-” 

   “Please,” (Y/N) smirks, using their little strength to give Nat’s hand a small squeeze. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, plus, I’d miss you if I died,” (Y/N) gives Nat a sleepy smile, their eyes twinkling almost fondly. “Will a kiss compensate for all that?” (Y/N) asks, their sleepy smile turning into a sleepy albeit mischievous smirk. 

   “(Y/N), you just died on the operating table, I’m not gonna kiss you when you’ve just gotten out of surgery-” 

   “Please? It’ll make me feel better,” (Y/N) mutters, hoping Nat would give into their pained and sleepy puppy dog eyes. “It’ll make both of us feel better,” (Y/N) continues on, tracing their thumb over Nat’s own. 

   “Fine,” Nat mutters as she leans over, being careful of (Y/N)’s wounds. “But just one,” (Y/N) smirks as their lips press to Nat’s, damn near perfect if they said so themself. Nat doesn’t kiss them for long, scared of hurting them more than they already were. Nat pulls away after the momentary kiss, much to (Y/N)’s dismay, 

   “One more?” (Y/N) asks in that sweet sleepy tone again. “Please?” And Nat can’t help but to oblige, the thought of (Y/N)’s heart stopping spurring her into the kiss further. Well, if there was one perk to this it was going to be the constant need for affection that both (Y/N) and Nat had. 


Holy fuck this is so bad, I’m so sorry! 

i walked with you once upon a dream (Chapter Four)

olicity || ao3 || mature || angst || 7541 || more fics

summary: Connected since their respective births, Oliver and Felicity were soulmates. What started off as a person that they dreamed of at night, a person they had never before met, turned into the greatest thing they could have imagined.
chapter word count: 1846
chapters: 4/?
a/n: Tbh I should write ahead more often for times like these when I don't feel like writing…. but anyway I had so much fun working on this chapter oh my god, I hope you guys enjoy reading it. I will say that this chapter and the next feature Laurel, but very briefly. There are certain canon things that I wanted to put in this story and you will see that very soon.

and thank you @yellowflicker09011996 for being the ever patient and amazing beta

also warning for mentions of pms/cramps


[prologue] [ch1] [ch2] [ch3]

Felicity studied and practiced  what she liked to call visiting as much as she could. She was better than Oliver by a mile, but she got the feeling that he never tried as hard. He was a teenage boy and sometimes it seemed that he had the attention span of a gnat. Oliver had years to change his mind and work hard on it, but he became more involved in sports in school and then girls. She rolled her eyes every time he talked about another girl with her. At least he was kind enough not to go into disgusting details.

Although, that didn’t stop her from accidentally popping in on him.

The thirteen year old sat on the edge of her bed, closing her eyes. She wanted to practice disconnecting her soul from her body, but she wasn’t sure if she could do it without going somewhere. There was only one way to find out. It was hard not to focus on Oliver when she was doing this because that’s what she always did. He popped into her head for one second and suddenly she was sitting on his bed. She picked a very bad moment to pop in on him. He was sucking the lips of a redhead that was most certainly not his girlfriend Laurel. Oliver was so startled he scrambled off the bed. The girl freaked out, wondering what she had done wrong. Felicity couldn’t stop herself from laughing as he tried to explain himself.

“I… uh… I just saw a bug behind you,” he tripped over his words.

“What?” she whipped her head around to look, but there was nothing on the wall, “If you didn’t want to makeout with me anymore you should have just said so,” she stormed out of the room.

“She’s overreacting,” Felicity said.

Oliver glared at her, “What are you doing here?” he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders, “I was practicing, but I didn’t mean to come here.”

“Right,” he grumbled, looking away from her.

“What? Like I meant to interrupt your cheating,” she snapped.

“You’re just a kid you don’t understand,” he shook his head.

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