#but i am eating while sick so its fresh in my brain

[hungee-boy]

god i love you orange juice when im sick

[joshusten]

got my head in a daze (guy/honey, redacted audios)

Guy takes care of a drunk and obliviously sentimental Honey.

(fluff, humor, taking care of drunk character)

2.5k+ words [ao3 link here!] [masterlist]

[CW and notes: implied alcohol consumption, honey kinda gets a lil vulnerable, drunken shenanigans, swearing, geordi and cutie briefly appear at the beginning bc i miss them lol, whipped and flustered Honey, whipped and flustered Guy, they love each other so much i’m shaking, possibly OOC**, GRAMMATICAL ERRORS not rlly proofread]

—

"Thank you for calling Max's Rustic Pizza, my name is Guy, how can I– OH! Fuck! Hi! Sorry, forgot to turn off my 'work' brain–"

"Wait, what? Are they okay? Oh, okay, okay. How long will you be here?"

"Oh, cool, cool, okay. I'll meet you outside. Thanks a lot, Geordi. Stay safe."

The call ends and Guy scrambles around the apartment for a change of clothes. He's still wearing his work uniform. The stench (he doesn't really smell that bad, does he?) of sweat, basil, and, well, pizza feels embedded into them. 

Unfortunately, no matter how dashing he looks in the black polo shirt (according to what the very lovely old lady that lives across them said), Guy remembers Honey always complaining about the smell. This probably means they won’t appreciate being greeted by it once they arrive with their friend.

He opts for a simple shirt that’s fresh from the laundry and grabs a soft blanket for Honey. The nights have been chilly lately and with his burning hatred for being sick, he definitely doesn’t want his partner to experience that either, especially in their state.

The sound of tires on asphalt snaps Guy out of his fussing and he realizes he’s near the entrance of their building. He opens the door to greet the Corolla pulling up near the sidewalk. Its side windows rolled down to reveal Geordi at the wheel looking back at Cutie, who was comforting Honey in the passenger seat.

A very drunk Honey, that is.

“Psst. We’re here.” Cutie whispered gently as not to startle the very much intoxicated person currently resting on their lap. Honey opens their eyes and squints at their surroundings, letting out what Guy would probably describe as the cutest sound in existence (it really was just a whine but sue him for gushing on his partner over the simplest of things.)

“Really…?”

“Yes, really. C'mon, your escort's there," The telepath says, nudging them to look at the man currently standing outside the car wearing an oversized Star Trek shirt with a blanket slung over his shoulder.

"Es…what?" 

It was evident that the trio were trying, and failing, to suppress their amusement at how… out of it their usually uptight friend is. It's adorable, even. 

Guy lowers himself to get Honey to sit up and Cutie immediately helps him. Then, slowly but surely, the pair gently shifts them out of the car to stand up on the sidewalk. 

"Okay, there you go, hon," Guy finally balances his swaying partner (or at least, how balanced one can be while inebriated). "Thanks a lot. Can you guys go home safely?"

"Yeah, no need to worry about us! Cutie's just a lil tipsy but Honey's the only one actually affected by how much of a lightweight they are," Geordi answers, wiping some fog that formed on his glasses. Guy glosses over the very endearing fact that their ever-so-grumpy partner is a lightweight to realize how cold it is outside. The blanket!

He wastes no time wrapping the soft fabric around Honey and they instantly snuggled up to it. “Woah…thanks…S’cold a while ago…” They happily said, their words slowly coming out like molasses. 

Guy chuckles, averting his gaze from the peaceful smiling face of their partner to Cutie’s shit-eating grin. “Thanks again. I’m glad they didn’t get themself into trouble.”

"No prob, Guy, really. Though I am not gonna miss how much they were raving about their wonderful boyfriend throughout the car ride. No matter how cute it was, that was still 30 minutes I can’t take back. I don't need to be a mind reader to know they can’t wait to see you.”

Geordi lets out a few snickers that make Guy wonder if there was an inside joke he wasn’t getting. He dismisses the thought, Never mind that! His Honey was being all mushy! About him!  That leaves him blushing, cheeks hot with a small smile growing and Honey quietly observes the man beside them. They amusingly think their strange escort looks enchanting when flustered.

“O-okay, then! Welp, get back home safe!” Guy waves a hand, the other around Honey’s waist tightened to keep them on their very unstable feet. “I’ve got my very drunk paramour that’s in dire need of some tender loving care to attend to." 

The couple waves them goodbye as the side windows close (with a scandalized “Geordi!” accompanied by a playful slap coming from Cutie despite the aforementioned man keeping his mouth shut though, shortly right after, he bursts into a fit of giggles.) Guy really doesn’t get how they both seem to communicate without sharing any words between them but he shrugs it off for now. He has more pressing matters to deal with.

“C’mon, Honey! Time to get you in our humble abode!" Guy begins to guide their partner to the entrance and opts for the nearby elevator instead of the stairs. He definitely doesn't want to risk any possible accidents from that.

They were both quiet for the whole three stories up. Guy worries about how exhausted Honey must've felt with how they were leaning on his shoulder, eyes closed as they breathed softly, almost snoring. Cute. 

The journey to their unit was surprisingly quick. Guy takes out his keys after gently shaking the bundled-up figure beside him. "Hey,” he whispered, “We're here, sleepyhead."

The door opens and so do Honey’s eyes, blinking out any weariness that weighed on them. They stride over to the couch with the short-lived confidence of a drunkard, leaving the man holding them surprised. They don't remember walking being so difficult. Why was the ground so…move-y all of a sudden? 

Guy's eyes widen as he realizes Honey is out of his grasp. They managed to take a few steps before he could see their movements getting sluggish again. "Woah, hey, hey! Slow down, let me help." He takes hold of their arms to balance them as he gently set their partner on the couch. 

“There ya go,” Guy smiles, kneeling down on his knees to help them out of their footwear that has probably grown uncomfortable. However, the moment he starts to take off their shoe, Honey's foot jerks back. They have their usual annoyed expression but something seems off about how they look at him.

“Hey, back off! I have a… boyfriend, y’know?”

. . .

What.  

"What?"

"Look, dude, thanks for… bringing me up here but I'm gonna…wait for my boyfriend, okay?"

Holy shit, they're fucking wasted.

"Honey, it's me," Guy insists. No doubt the real, very much existing live audience he always monologues for would find this situation hilarious if he wasn't desperately trying to take care of his partner without them freaking out.

"Ha-ha, okay, man, you’re really cute and shit but I want my boyfriend here, not some random fucking guy!”

Despite literally rejecting him in their drunken stupor, his grumpy darling of a partner still makes way for his heart to flutter. How the hell is he going to handle this when some simple flattery from them leaves his mind reeling? “But I’m not some guy! I am Guy!” He sees that the statement confuses Honey’s already muddled mind some more. At moments like these, Guy wonders what in the ever-loving fuck his parents were on when they decided to name their child like that. 

The man backtracks, "Look, your…boyfriend is a lil busy right now. He’ll be back soon but he told me to take care of you while he’s gone, would that be okay?”

Honey squints their eyes, and their foot slowly sets itself back on the floor. “Hm. fine…but don’t pull any moves on me, got it?” They pointed a threatening finger at him. “I like my boyfriend a whole lot and I don’t want him coming home to some bullshit, you hear me?” 

Their strange escort smiles wide and Honey is suddenly overtaken by the instinct to cup his round cheeks, as if it was second nature. Honey shakes their head. There’s something about this man, they just don’t know what, but he makes them feel…weird.

“You got it, boss!” Guy beams with a mock salute before untying the laces of their shoe. After a few moments of comfortable silence, he decided to speak up. “Y’know, that must be one lucky boyfriend. You seem to be fond of him.” He means it. He really is lucky to have them in his life.

Honey looks away with furrowed brows, mumbling softly, “I’m the lucky one…”

“Hm? What do you mean?” Guy tilts his head to the side. Well, that got him curious.

“He’s… he’s really nice to me, even when I’m not.” The urge for Guy to rebut was strong but he decided to shut the fuck up for once to let them continue. “He acts goofy as hell most of the time, too. Like some fucking gremlin or something…”

Their eyes meet and his breath hitches. They’re beautiful.

“And he makes me feel really, really good. He asks for kisses all the time and he cooks me breakfast and his voice sounds so nice in my ear even when he talks a lot a-and he makes my stupid heart feel stupid warm when he looks at me with those pretty eyes like–” They pause to take a breath. 

“Like I’m actually enjoyable to be around.” Honey’s flustered. The heat practically radiates off of them as they lock their gaze on the floor. “He's stupid handsome too, it’s not fair! S’like he got it all!” 

They pushed a finger up to the man’s lips in an attempt to shush him (They also ignore how pleasantly soft it feels against their skin), "But don't tell him I said that!" 

Guy merely chuckles to mask the reality of how fast his heart is beating right now. Fuck, if he keeps getting these sweet compliments from a blushing Honey in such generous amounts, he might actually pass out. Definitely not a bad way to go. He awkwardly cleared his throat, noticing that they were expecting a reply from him, “I-I won’t. I promise.” They seem satisfied by that, crossing their arms as they avoid his eye contact again. Guy racks up his mind on what to do next, his thoughts currently in disarray no thanks to the overwhelming affection he’s receiving. “How ‘bout you go wash up and change your clothes so we can get you to bed, hm?”

Honey nods, and allows the man to guide them to the bedroom (not without a sharp “No funny ideas!” from them and a giggly but reassuring “Of course, of course!” from the man). Guy makes sure to leave the bathroom door open just in case something happens as Honey sloppily brushes their teeth while he prepares some sleepwear for them. 

Once they were done, Guy stepped out of the room to give his partner some privacy and brings back a glass of water with some painkillers to leave by their bedside table for tomorrow. He waits outside the bedroom door, knocking one, two, three times, “Can I come in?”

After hearing the soft “Sure” from inside, the door creaks open to reveal their Honey, clad in pajamas, lying in bed. He sets the pills down and inches the glass toward their lips.

“Hey, don’t sleep yet. You gotta get hydrated first.”

Guy notices they were a bit more compliant, probably too tired to try intimidating him with…their boyfriend. After a few sips, Honey yawns, their head gently landing on the fluffy pillows surrounding their drowsy state. The fatigue was really catching up on them, allowing slumber to take over easily. 

In their dreams, they swear they feel a warmth caress their skin and a soft, fleeting pressure on their forehead.

“I love you.”

–

The first thing Honey hears through the headache is the sizzle of the omelet that Guy is currently giving out a performance to in his rendition of a song he’s playing on his phone.

The man turns off the stove, expertly sliding the dish on a plate placed nearby while still shaking his hips to the music. He continues his singing, oblivious to the fact that their partner is currently observing them with a grin despite the pounding in their head.

“He’s a semi-aquatic egg-layin’ mammal of– AH!” Guy almost drops the plate the moment he notices someone by the hallway. “Honey!” 

They wince at the sudden greeting and Guy sheepishly smiles at them as an apology. “You wanna eat? I cooked some eggs.”

“That would be nice, thanks. Sorry for interrupting your…Disney Channel concert.”

Guy dramatically gasps, setting down another plate in front of where Honey sat at the table. “That was not just some Disney Channel concert! It’s my Phineas and Ferb playlist! That was a serenade to Aphrodite, an angel’s choir! That show’s soundtrack contained the very secret chord that David played! Receiving the highest praise from the greatest minds of our time, including, but not limited to, yours truly! I can’t believe you would slander the artistry of–mmph!” 

He smiles in the kiss and he tastes the fresh mint in their mouth. They brushed their teeth again before coming here. Had they planned to kiss him all along? They pull away, dragging a needy whine from his lips. Fuck, the day hasn’t started yet and they’ve already got his heart pumping. A good morning indeed.

“Okay, okay, I get it, you menace!” Honey lets out a giggle that has Guy taking back everything he said. His taste in music is definitely their laugh. “It’s too fucking early for you to be monologuing like this.”

They smile again and he knows it’s a joke, especially after everything that they’ve confessed to under the influence a few hours ago. He smirks mischievously, “Oh? That’s not what you said last night~”

Honey raises a brow, their fork with a piece of the beaten egg stopping midway towards their mouth. “What, did I do something stupid?”

The man excitedly scoots his chair near them, “Hm, what was that about my voice sounding so nice in your ear?” Honey squints their eyes in confusion before they widen, the foggy memories from last night coming back to them. Heat rapidly rises to their horrified face, much to their smug boyfriend’s delight.

“Shut the fuck up!”

“Or–how did you put it–me being stupid handsome?”

“Guy, please–”

“Oh! Or what about making your heart feel stupid warm?”

At this point, Honey hid their face in Guy’s neck, playfully slapping the arms wrapped around their waist.

“You’re an asshole.” Their words held no heat and were less mean considering they came out muffled from their significant other’s shoulder. The latter simply laughed.

“To be fair,” Guy whispered in their ear, “You make my stupid heart feel stupid warm too.”

Honey sits back up, more flustered than ever and Guy relishes the view. His lover muttered a quick “Fucking dumbass.” before kissing him again, considerably more tender than the last.

-

-

- “Gitchee, gitchee goo means that I love y– OW! Ow, ow, ow! Okay, pausing the playlist, going back to the romantic mood!”

---

i rlly like this fic!! idk the idea of a flustered tsundere honey was just so delicious AND GUY GETTING EQUALLY FLUSTERED BC EUEUEUFHSDKFHJ HIS BABYHONEYDARLING IS BEING SO MUSHYYY LMAO again tho, feel free to leave me feedback!! whether it's a grammatical error or how true/consistent i am to the characters, it will always be appreciated!! have a nice day/noon/night!! >:))

[gaysindistress]

Van Helsing Retold - three

pairings: vamp hunter!reader x vamp!bucky

Summary: Under the cover of night, vampires and their hunters have been at war for centuries, never letting their bloodshed reach the light of day. That is until the wife of a powerful vampire leader, Steve Rogers is murdered and he demands revenge. Y/N Van Helsing is the target of his crusade and she comes face to face with his right hand man, Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: cursing

Word count: 2.5k

two | series masterlist

Tag list: permanent @hidden-treasures21 @cakesandtom @isabellatb @vonalyn

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest. The women in the banners are purely for aesthetic purposes.

The smell that hasn’t left my mind for the last three, no four, I don’t know how many days but that’s besides the point. That smell has wrapped its imaginary arms around me and is holding me tight against its strong chest as I wake up. Sam’s voice is floating around me but the heartbeat in the chest I'm leaning against is louder, pounding in time with my own. Another voice, one that’s vaguely familiar and pulls at a thread somewhere inside of me, says something to Sam.

I feel something shift and I squint my eyes in an attempt to see my surroundings. We’re in a car now and Sam is driving. There must be someone else with us if he’s driving and I’m being cradled like a child.

Wait.

Fuck.

The vampire from the warehouse.

The vampire from the warehouse that’s been haunting my every waking and sleeping moment.

He was the one who barged in on our meeting with Helumt. He was the reason I felt an anger so violent and hostile that it threatened to make me sick. He was the reason Sam and I got out of there safely while I was a limp noodle in Sam’s arms.

Scratch that; a limp noodle in his arms. He’s the one who carried me out and is holding me tight as if i'll turn into ash if he lets me go.

“Van Helsing?” Sam’s voice calls to me and I blink at him through the rearview mirror, “Oh good you’re awake!”

“Thank you for the insightful observation, Wilson,”I shoot back and I feel a small rumble of laughter against my back. I want to look and confirm what I know to be true but I don’t want to admit it. I don’t want to admit that this vampire has saved my ass at least twice now. I don’t want to admit that I’m comfortable and I feel safe nestled in his arms. I don’t want to admit that I haven’t stopped thinking about him or that I’ve seen him in my dreams. I don’t want to admit that there’s a part of me that awoke that day and it aches when he’s not around.

“Wanna explain what happened?” Sam asks, throwing an accusing look at me

“Well if I had to guess, I’d say I fainted because I’m fresh out of the infirmary and I have a mild head wound that’s still healing. Oh and don’t forget the venom that’s eating away at my hand. I’d say I’m not exactly in fighting shape and my brain knocked me out so I wouldn’t hurt myself anymore.”

The vampire recoils a bit at the mention of my head wound and loosens his grip. Whatever anger of his that is left in me causes me to push off of him and face him.

“And you need to explain why you were at the club and the warehouse.”

His pale eyes widen at the anger directed at him but nonetheless he explains, “I was sent to find Peggy after she didn’t show up for an appointment and Sam asked me to come to the meeting with Helmut.”

It’s my turn to be wide eyed as I snap my eyes to Sam in the rearview mirror, “Sam did what now?”

“I said I had a lead,” he mumbles, not meeting my gaze.

“You didn’t tell me your lead was the fucking right hand to the leader of the Captain’s Guard!”

“If you know how I am then why did you ask me why I was at the warehouse?” The vampire asks, annoyed like I’m the problem.

“You,” I point my venomous finger at him, “don’t get to talk until I say so. As for Sam, you need to explain right the fuck now how and why you’re in bed with the Captain’s Guard.”

“I’m not in bed with them, Jesus,” he scoffs, “he called ME as a matter of fact and i knew that if we were going to make it out of that nightclub alive, we would need backup.”

I narrow my eyes at the vampire and he raises his eyebrows at me as if to remind me that he’s not allowed to speak until I say. I roll my eyes and tell him to start talking.

“As much as I hate all of you hunters, I hate your Guild Master even more. Killing Peggy was a shit call on his part and he’s going to let you and anyone else who tries to help you, take the fall. I told Sam that I would help him find the anti venom for your hand if he helped me frame Walker for Peggy’s death.”

I stay quiet for a moment as I try to process what he’s said, “that doesn’t explain why you’re doing this. I’m a Van Helsing, you should hate me more than any other hunter.”

He studies me, his eyes looking me up and down before he speaks, “I made a promise to your mother and she scares me more than you do.”

“My mother?”

Sam clears his throat and I shoot him daggers with my eyes.

Confusions hits me.

“She died when I was a baby. Peggy killed her.”

“That might be what she told everyone but it’s not true. I took your mother to a safe house to heal and she made me promise that I would never hurt you or let any hurt befall you.”

“You’re lying.”

“Trust me, I fucking wish I was.”

“Sam?” I look at my fellow hunter, “Is he telling the truth?”

The Falcon as he liked to call himself, refused to meet my gaze once again. He’d been maybe 17-18 when I showed up at the Guild as a small and crying baby. In true Van Helsing fashion, I had been wrapped in a black blanket with one of my family’s stakes tucked next to me and placed in a wicker basket on the doorstep of the previous Guild Master’s house. Tony had only been in his early 20s, the youngest Master to take over but he, Sam, and Happy raised me like I was their own. Now that Tony was dead and Happy hadn’t been seen in years, Sam would be the only person who knew what happened to my parents. I’d thought the story he’d told me, the one that Peggy had thrown at me, was the truth but from the way his eyes stay trained on the road, I realize it was a lie.

“Sam,” I try as my voice trembles, “is he telling the truth?”

The vampire’s hand gently grips my chin and pulls my face so that I’m looking at him.

“He’s not to blame. She made us all promise to keep you safe even if that meant lying to you.”

I slap his hand away, “Don’t touch me. I don’t give a single fuck what my mother said or what she made you promise. I don’t even know you so how can I even trust anything you have to say? As for Sam, he’s just as bad as you are and the moment we get to the Guild….”

He grips my chin again and forces me to stare into his eyes as he persuades me, “You will not speak of this to anyone and until I say so, you will stay silent and not move.”

My mouth and body comply without my permission.

Without control over my body, I zone out. Disassociate is a better word for the way I can’t remember the drive, getting out of the car, or how I’ve come to be sat on an emerald green tufted couch. Sam and the vampire are conversing in low voices but it doesn’t matter. I can’t hear them. My brain has effectively shut out everything but the sounds of rain hitting the window behind me and the fire that crackles out to my right. My eyes are trained on an open book that sits on a coffee table in front of me. I can’t read the words from this distance but I can at least appreciate that the owner of this house likes to read.

I feel a hand gently grip my chin and I find myself looking into those pale eyes as he grants me freedom of my body. Sam is tense, ready to grab me if I attack but I don’t. I stay in my corner of the couch and pull my legs up, not caring if my boots ruin the upholstery. I drop my forehead to rest on my knees and I would’ve assumed that anyone else would’ve walked away but the vampire doesn’t. He, instead, sits on the coffee table and leans forward so his forearms rest on his thighs.

“I’m sorry I persuaded you,” he offers the olive branch of pleasantness in a small voice, “I couldn’t let you get yourself hurt.”

“Or worse,” is unspoken but I can feel it in the weight of his gaze that’s fixed on top of my head.

“I still can't understand why you care what happens to me,” I say barely above a whisper but I know he hears me.

“I already told you.”

“And I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to nor do I expect you to,” there’s an odd heaviness in his words that I also feel in my throat. Rejection and frustration sit on my chest, constricting my breathing but it’s not mine.

“Good to know we’re on the same page.”

“Y/N,” Sam chides me from behind the vampire, “he’s not the enemy here. He can help get rid of Walker like you’ve been wanting.”

“I didn’t mean kill him!” I shout at him, “sure he’s annoying and pushy and the worst hunter I’ve ever seen but that doesn’t mean that he needs to die.”

Sam gives me a blank stare, “how many times has he sent you to do some crazy shit where you’ve almost gotten killed?”

I don’t answer. He’s not wrong; Walker has sent me on several suicide missions, Peggy being the most recent but most certainly not the last. Once again I can feel someone else’s emotions rise in me, squeezing the life out of my internal organs as they try to crawl out. Stealing a glance at the vampire, I see that his face is contorted with anger but he’s trying and failing to hide it.

I swear to all things holy if this is somehow his doing.

“It’s not for certain that Steve will kill him,” Sam adds.

The vampire before me shoots me a concerned look before looking over his shoulder at Sam, “I hope you’re joking.”

“I didn’t say he wouldn’t make him wish he was dead, just that he might not kill him.”

The vampire turns to me again, “it’s up to you, Y/N.”

I furrow my brows at him, confused about how he knows my name.

“That’s the least of your concerns,” he shoots back as if I’d said it out loud. I didn’t think I had but I shake it off.

“Give me the anti venom first and then I’ll decide.”

“That’s not how negotiations work.”

“Do I look like I give a fuck? Anti venom and then I’ll decide if I’m going to sell my soul to the devil.”

He rolls my eyes at the dramatics of my statement, “it’s not that easy.”

“It really is.”

“No it’s not,” he says sternly and I want to fire back more but he continues, “Helmut was right. Whatever anti venom we find won’t work on you. What you need is damn near impossible to get unless you’re willing.”

“And what do I need to be willing to do?”

Sam tenses and shoots nervous glances between us. I narrow my eyes at him and then look back to the vampire, repeating my question.

“Drinking the blood of the vampire that infected a moral can reverse the turning process only if they’re in the midst of it.”

“Peggy’s dead, how does that help me?”

The vampire doesn’t seem to even register that I asked a question, “Do you know what mates are?”

I blink at him, “excuse me?”

“Do you…”

“Yes I know what they are, why?” I snap and interrupt him.

Annoyance flashes in his blue eyes, “the mating bond doesn’t awaken until a mortal has completed the process. There have been a few cases where it can happen during. If that happens, the blood of the vampire mate can reverse it but it severs the bond completely and can kill the vampire. It’s like taking out our hearts and expecting our blood to keep pumping.”

“Well you don’t have a beating heart so…”

“You get the point,” he snaps back.

“What does this have to do with me?” I ask while looking between him and Sam. The latter is already looking at me with a mixture of sadness and… hope in his dark eyes. Whatever hope he’s placed in this vampire is sorely mistaken and he’d be better to place it in our Guild Master John Walker.

The vampire’s watching me, studying me for any indication of what I’m thinking or feeling. It makes me uneasy to have his full attention on me but I can’t show it. Instead I drop my feet back to the ground and cross my arms over my chest as I repeat my question, “I’m not a vampire nor am I in the turning process so what do mating bonds have to do with me?”

“You are in the process. Stopped, frozen, or slow, you’re still turning and since you killed the one who infected you, the mating bond is the only way to save you.”

I laugh.

I laugh so loud and so hard that both men flinch. I laugh so long that my chest hurts and my lungs burn. Tears prick my eyes and my entire body aches from how long I laugh. When my laughter finally stops and I’m clutching my sides, I look between the two men. Neither mirror my amusement and it’s only slightly concerning.

“What?”

Sam shakes his head, “this is serious, Y/N.”

“I’m well aware that this is serious but you can’t seriously believe that I would fall for any of the bullshit he’s spewing.”

The vampire flinches slightly, “I’m telling the truth. What reason do I have to lie?”

“Oh just about a million,” I scoff before standing up, “my head is starting to hurt again, is there somewhere I can lay down?”

The vampire doesn’t respond but Sam stands too and leads me out of the room. Hurt beings to deep into my chest and it twists around inside me, causing a deep ache to start throbbing.

“He’s trying to help you,” Sam says softly with an edge of disappointment.

“But why? Sam, he’s Bucky Barnes, the right hand of the Captain’s Guard. He has no reason other than his own selfish ones to help us and I can’t trust just that.”

“Then trust that your mom and I trust him.”

I stop dead in my tracks, “as far as I’m concerned she died that night and your word has come to mean nothing to me.”

[lagingersnapz]

Some Rain Must Fall - (Fallout Fic) Chapter 9: Punishing Road

Chapter: 9/?

In the past, the Ghoul does his best to continue pushing Lucy towards her breaking point.

In the future, a fresh tragedy on the road takes the group of survivors by surprise.

Characters: Lucy MacLean/Cooper Howard(The Ghoul), Dogmeat(CX-404), Original Characters

Word Count: 5817

Warnings: Violence, Swearing, Death

Author's Note: If I remember right, this is the longest chapter of the fic so far, so brace yourselves. Gonna be a few deaths in this chapter, so I'm sorry about that. Kinda. I saw a few of the people that liked the fic posts on here had gone over to Ao3 and gave me kudos over there. Thank you so much. I honestly didn't think anyone would be interested enough to move to the other site to keep reading, so I am incredibly grateful for that. I hope you continue to enjoy.

Previous Next

Ao3

~~~

Even though Lucy knew what she was seeing, her brain was having a hard time processing it. One minute Roger had still been there, about to share a memory about his mother with her, and the next he was a lifeless pile in the sand. Before she could even finish taking in that information, the Ghoul had holstered his gun again and trudged over, grabbing Roger’s corpse and rolling it on its back.

Lucy’s mouth opened and closed a few times as she struggled to find words. “Wh-why’d you do that? He was sick!”

The Ghoul didn’t seem to pay her any attention, taking off his hat and plopping it down on a nearby stool so he could work easier. He was panting a little from flipping over the body, but didn’t stop him as he pulled out a few tools from his saddlebags and went to work checking the corpse. In Roger’s mouth he must have found something worth his time, because he took a set of pliers and with a sharp grunt he yanked out a tooth.

“Stop. Stop! Stop, please. I-” Words continued to fail Lucy as she watched the Ghoul turn the body over again so it was laying on its stomach, and he pulled up the shirt on its back, revealing the weathered, strange looking skin. “Now, I know it’s hard up here, but you don’t have to resort t-to-”

“What’d you say your name was?” The Ghoul paused long enough to cut her off.

“Lucy MacLean.” There was still pride in her voice. Whether the name meant anything to this surfacer, it still meant something to her, and saying it out loud reminded her of who had taught her the morals she was so adamantly holding to.

Now the Ghoul looked fully over his shoulder at her, and she could read a slight look of confusion on his face. “MacLean?” he asked.

Lucy couldn’t imagine why he might know the name, but somehow he seemed to. She nodded her head, a look of uneasy confusion twisting her mouth into a deeper frown.

“Huh.” He looked at her a moment longer, then sighed and turned back to Roger’s corpse. “Well, Lucy MacLean, it ain’t all canned peaches and marmalade left up here, Sweetheart.” He pulled out a knife and started cutting into the body. “Sometimes, a fella’s gotta eat a fella.” The Ghoul pulled away a strip of flesh, which squelched in a way that made Lucy’s stomach seize violently. Then he started sucking on it, humming in apparent approval like it was a Thanksgiving turkey.

Lucy gagged and looked away, trying to get her stomach back under control before she lost what little she had in it, while the sounds of eating continued from the Ghoul. How could she make him understand? Lucy was no stranger to difficult circumstances, but to resort to cannibalism?

“You know, my vault has endured hardship, too.” She focused her gaze back on him, refusing to look away again. “In the Great Plague of ‘77, everyone had to quarantine, they couldn’t work the farms together. People starved.” Her eyes dropped to the floor as she remembered the difficult time. “My mother included.” With a helpless shrug she struggled on. “My dad dropped to 128 pounds, and he still refused to do anything like this.”

To her disbelief, the Ghoul started laughing.

“What? What’s so funny?” That he could be laughing at her as she told him about one of the most difficult periods in the history of her vault made Lucy’s fear start morphing into frustration and anger.

The Ghoul paused his butchering to speak again. “Well, there’s what people say they did,” he looked at her again, “and what they really did.” He turned back to his task. “Well, I bet your daddy was first in line at the cook-out. I bet he had a bib with a drawing of his neighbor’s ass on there.”

Insults to herself were bad enough, but hearing the Ghoul insult her father was a step too far. “How do you live like this?” she asked, voice cold. “Why keep going?”

The sounds of cutting and flesh tearing stopped, and for a second Lucy wondered if she might have gotten through to him about how horrible what he was doing was. Then he stood up, turning to fully face her, and she saw from the look in his eyes that she certainly hadn’t done anything but make him angry. Not that that seemed to take much.

He started to stalk towards her. “Well, one good question deserves another.” Holding up the blade in his hand, a sick smile twisted over his mouth, and Lucy fell back a step. “Why the fuck am I doing all the work? Now, come on, Vaultie. Ass jerky don’t make itself.” He turned the blade a little in his grip so the blood on it shone in the dim light filtering through the shattered window panes of the room.

Lucy’s gaze darted between the knife and the Ghoul’s sunken eyes, but she couldn’t find any hint that he was joking. Of course he wasn’t. Why would he joke about something like this? Finally, when it became apparent that he wasn’t going to budge, Lucy reached out with her bound hands and took the knife from his grip. It occurred to her, however briefly, that she could try and use it on the Ghoul, but with her hands bound and him armed with guns, it would have been nearly impossible. So, instead, she took several deep breaths and wordlessly bent down to pick up where he had left off with the corpse.

Butchering a corpse wasn’t one of Lucy’s many practiced talents, and it wasn’t long before the Ghoul was next to her, directing her on what to do, and Lucy followed his instructions. It was easier if she convinced herself it was some sort of wild game, like a deer, rather than a man. Eventually he must have been satisfied that she had been put in her place, because he took the knife back and shoved her off to the side of the room to finish the job much more efficiently than Lucy could have, even if her hands hadn’t been tied together.

With the meat tied to his saddlebags to dry and any supplies left over from Roger collected, the Ghoul herded Lucy back out into the punishing sunlight, and the grueling trek continued. Lucy still had no idea what their destination was, or how long it would take to get there, and part of her was wondering if she would even still have a foot left by the time they arrived or if the burning sand would grind it down to her ankle.

As they walked, Lucy noticed that the Ghoul was starting to cough more often. Was this the beginning of whatever was happening to Roger before? His growls had been mixed with coughing. And what had been happening to Roger? The Ghoul had referred to it as ‘changing,’ whatever that meant. Obviously it hadn’t been a good thing, from how somber they had both been about it. Roger had even warned that the two of them should leave before things got worse. Would he have turned violent? There had certainly been an air of ferocity around him when his humanity would flicker away in his eyes during a growling fit.

The sound of Lucy’s Pip Boy RAD meter peaking again drew her out of her thoughts and she looked over to find some sort of old overturned piece of metal with a bowl shape in it. Inside was a puddle of alarmingly green water which was the source of the radiation. To her horror, Lucy realized she was contemplating drinking it anyway. She wasn’t even sure she still had a tongue in her mouth anymore, and her lips felt like they were made of sand themselves.

While she struggled internally over how bad it would be to have a little drink of the stagnant water, the Ghoul unscrewed the top of his canteen and cleared his throat, casually dipping it into the water for a few seconds before bringing it back up to his lips and sloppily dumping it into his mouth, dribbling as much down his chin as he did into his mouth. The entire time he drank he looked over at her, a smug smile on his face.

Droplets fell from the canteen into the water, tinkling tauntingly at her until finally her resolve broke, and Lucy stepped forward and fell to her knees next to it. The Pip-Boy on her wrist protested loudly, but she did her best to ignore it. With a final deep breath, Lucy dipped her hand into the water and brought it to her mouth. The taste of it had her gagging, and for a second she wondered if she was going to throw it back up. Stubbornly she pushed through it, taking another sip.

“Now you’re gettin’ it,” the Ghoul said smugly from above her.

Lucy did her best to ignore him, putting her full attention into keeping her stomach from rejecting the water, but the Ghoul was apparently determined to get a reaction from her, because he crouched down to put himself more on eye level. Lucy stopped drinking to look at him, and in her stare she hoped she conveyed the depth of hatred she felt for this man, which was more intense than she had ever known before, even for the Raiders that had invaded her home. At least with the Raiders it hadn’t felt personal, even when it was her own new husband she was fighting off. With the Ghoul it was most definitely personal.

“How does that Golden Rule jibe with what’s goin’ through your mind right now?”

Lucy was panting as she studied his face. “What… are you?” Her voice came out thick and unsteady.

The Ghoul cocked his head to the side. “Oh, I’m you, Sweetie. You just give it a little time.” He broke off into a smile that Lucy wanted to wipe off his face. Luckily for her, it didn’t last long, as once again the Ghoul broke down into a fit of coughing. Only this time it didn’t let up, and turned into full body heaving and hacking as he turned away from her, spit dribbling from his lips and spraying out into the air as he tried to get his breath back.

Knowing there wouldn’t be a better moment than this, and unwilling to continue to meekly accept his abuse, Lucy realized what she had to do. While he was still doubled over, she used the metal object to shove herself to her feet and took off running down the street. She didn’t know where she planned to go, or how she was going to free her hands, but she knew she couldn’t stand another moment where she was. Anywhere else had to be better than this.

***

The night had passed as sleeplessly as Cooper had thought it would. Half the time he was expecting more kids to come trailing out of the tents until he had the whole group of them piled up around him. Thankfully, nobody else came out. It was just Cooper, Lucy, Kelly, and Nate, with Dogmeat laying by his feet. Even so, Cooper felt more and more out of place. It felt like he was pretending to be someone else by letting these kids trust him this much. Lucy was one thing, she was a grown-ass woman and could make her own choices, but the kids wouldn’t have known any better than to trust him, would they?

As dawn approached, and his limbs fell asleep, another concern started to wriggle in his gut. If he was still outside with all of them curled up next to him, what would the rest of these people think? Most of them were other kids, and he hadn’t been cruel to any of them, but he had tried to keep his distance as best he could. If they saw him like this, would they start seeing him as being more approachable? What if Kelly wasn’t the only one that started following him around? Cooper was desperate not to get attached to these people. Their presence in his life was temporary, after all.

His fears of being discovered were realized just after dawn when Irene came shuffling out of the tent, the blanket that must have been Lucy’s clutched in her hands. It took her a moment to realize that the Ghoul wasn’t sitting alone, but when she did a frustratingly knowing smile spread over her weathered face, and she approached quietly. She draped the blanket over Cooper’s coat on Lucy before wordlessly squatting down to pick up Nate and move him back into the tent.

Cooper breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn’t said anything, then eased his arm out from under Lucy, tucking the coat and blanket around her so she wouldn’t be laying in the dirt once he moved away, then collected Kelly up and followed Irene, putting the sleeping girl down next to her brother.

Irene led the way back out of the tent and went to the firepit, which was still smoking, and started stirring up the embers. “You a coffee drinker?” She didn’t look up at him as she spoke.

Cooper was standing nearby, looking over at Lucy curled up on the ground. Dogmeat had moved to curl up next to Lucy, rather than following the kids back into the tent. Part of Cooper wanted to go back over there and pull her up against him again so she’d wake up leaning on him just as she had fallen asleep. It took more than he expected to resist the urge and stay by the firepit with Irene.

“You got coffee?” he asked.

“I may have squirreled a little away. Not easy to find these days, and the quality isn’t great, but I couldn’t just leave it behind.”

Cooper grunted. “Well, if you’re willing to spare some, I’d take a bit.” He wasn’t about to turn down a little coffee, especially after not sleeping the entire night.

Irene chuckled, glancing up at his face. “You know, I didn’t know if ghouls could have bags under their eyes, but you’ve answered that question for me.” She went about setting up an old coffee pot, and a little metal pot for their breakfast of oat mash.

“You really know how to charm a fella, don’t ya, ma’am.” Cooper flashed her as charming a smile as he could muster with his ruined face, and he dug through his saddlebags to pull out his inhaler. It was oddly routine at this point for him to wake up before everyone else to take a hit of medicine so nobody could ask him about it. It wasn’t that he cared if anyone saw him doing it, but he got annoyed when people would ask him what it was. Especially since he didn’t really know what it was. All he knew was that it helped slow down going feral.

“I’ll have you know I can be very charming, Mr. Wyatt, but at my age it just seems like more trouble than it’s worth. Why be charming when I can be honest instead? Being old comes with its perks, and being blunt is one of ‘em.” She grinned at him, and for a second Cooper got a glimpse of what she must have looked like as a much younger woman. “People just chalk it up to my mind going.”

The two of them sat next to the fire in surprisingly companionable silence for awhile longer, until the sounds of stirring behind Cooper let him know that Lucy was waking up. Her hand clenched and unclenched,  and she uncurled herself from where she was laying under the coat, rubbing her eyes and looking around in evident confusion. Dogmeat huffed and sat up when Lucy did, and Lucy’s hand came down to give her a thorough scratch on the ears. The ponytail she had worn to bed was mussed, especially on the side that she had rested against his chest.

“Mornin’, Darlin’,” he said, tipping an imaginary hat at her. Lucy looked around, spotting his hat on the ground where he had left it the night before, and she picked it up, plopping it down on her head so she could tip it to him.

“Morning, Sheriff,” she replied, voice soft from sleep. Then she proceeded to pull on the duster, pushing up the sleeves a little, and stood, stretching out the kinks she had definitely acquired sleeping the way she had all night. “Morning, Irene.” She smiled at the older woman and came over to sit between the two of them, though she kept the coat and hat on.

“Good morning, Lucy.” Irene gave the pot of oats a little stir. “How was your night? Get some good sleep?” She checked the coffee and took out a couple old mugs, pouring a cup for Cooper. Lucy smiled, glancing at him.

“Yeah. Nice and cozy.” She took off the hat and handed it to Cooper, who took it without comment and put it on his own head. The coffee was fabulously bitter and he drank it so hot it scalded his throat a little bit.

“Careful,” Irene said, “or steam’ll come out of your nose.”

“If he had one,” Lucy said, holding up a hand to turn down Irene’s offer of coffee for her. Irene laughed out loud, and Cooper was taken aback to hear her talking about what many people considered his most off putting feature so casually, playfully, even.

“Don’t worry, Wyatt, you’re handsome, even without a nose,” Lucy continued.

Shaking off the comment, Cooper laughed. “Trust me, it’s an improvement.”

Lucy shook her head, locking eyes with him, and he felt her gaze searching his face, and she didn’t look disgusted or like she pitied him. “No, I mean it. You look good, nose or no nose.” The intensity of her gaze didn’t falter, and in the end it was Cooper who cleared his throat and finished his coffee, handing the mug back to Irene.

“Ladies, I’m off to do a bit o’ scouting. Enjoy your breakfast.” He tried not to feel like he was running away when he stood up, but he ended up hurrying away so quickly he forgot that Lucy was still wearing his coat.

It wasn’t until late morning, just before they all left for the day, that Cooper returned for the duster, and he found Lucy still wearing it. As he approached she beamed a smile at him and shrugged it off, holding it out for him. Cooper wanted to ask her how she could smile at him like that, so openly and honestly, after everything he had done to her and everything she had been through. How could she trust him enough to curl up at his side at night and sleep soundly? Instead of asking, though, he simply accepted the coat back and put it on. Despite his own body temperature, he was pretty sure he could feel her lingering body heat on the worn leather.

***

The morning went as smoothly as the previous day had, and Lucy was starting to hope against hope that they would make it to Vault 4 without any major difficulties. Knowing what the surface was like, she knew it was unlikely to happen, but if she could just have this one thing, to get these people to the Vault in one piece, then when the Ghoul questioned her optimism she could at least hold this up to remind him that things didn’t always take a turn for the worse.

It wasn’t until they stopped for lunch that Lucy found out just how little her hopes meant. Something started to feel off, though she couldn’t put her finger on it. It was the sensation of being watched, though no matter how much she searched she couldn’t see anything around them. There were plenty of places someone might be hiding, and when she brought it up with the Ghoul he agreed with her that something didn’t feel right, and he left to look around.

It seemed prudent to keep the lunch short, and Lucy had them start packing up as quickly as she could without making it obvious that something was wrong. Privately she spoke with the other adults, letting them know what she was feeling and that the Ghoul was out looking around, but that they didn’t want to scare the children.

Irene took more of the kids than usual into the wagon with her. The canvas cover of the wagon was pitiful as far as protection went, but at least nobody outside could easily see the occupants to target them if they were about to be ambushed. 

The explosion took all of them completely by surprise. One moment they were all moving along as quietly and carefully as they could, and the next her ears were ringing and Lucy realized she was laying on her back on the ground, with bits of road raining down around her. At first she couldn’t even figure out what had happened. Turning her head she saw the wagon turned on its side, the brahmin freed from its ties and fleeing into the trees.

The first sounds to come back to her were screams, and it took a moment for her to pick apart the screams of fear from the survivors, and the screams of triumph from their attackers. Coughing, Lucy pushed herself to her feet, pulling free her gun as the first shots started ringing out. It was like she was thrown back in time to her Vault all over again. A group of Raiders started to swarm over them. It wasn’t a lot of them, but the explosion had crippled the survivors, and they were slow to pull weapons to defend themselves. Many of the kids were too young to wield weapons at all. Lucy’s thoughts turned to Kelly. Was the little girl okay? She was one of the ones they had reluctantly trusted with a gun after her help out in the swamp had proven she knew how to use it. Was she alive to fight back now?

A Raider was coming straight at her, and Lucy pulled up her gun and fired. The man went down and she realized too late that there had been another one behind him. Her next shot missed and the Raider tackled her, wrapping their arms around her middle and driving her to the ground. The air went back out of her with a grunt. The gun was knocked away from her hand and that’s when she saw the knife in the Raider’s other hand start to come down.

Reaching up, Lucy grabbed the man’s wrist with both of her hands, struggling to push the knife back. With a twisted grin, the man started pushing down harder, and it was clear to both of them what the outcome of this was going to be. Lucy needed help. The man was taking his time, clearly enjoying watching her struggle, but her strength would fail eventually. Was the Ghoul back? Had the explosion drawn his attention to them? If he was here, she needed his help, and the only way she could think of to get it was to call out for him. Not by the name she had given him, but by the name she had started to suspect was his true name. The name he hadn’t wanted to tell her. Drawing in as much breath as she could manage, Lucy cried out for him.

“Cooper!”

The Raider wasn’t phased by her call for help, but the pressure he was putting on her increased until she knew she wouldn’t be able to call out a second time without losing the strength to keep him back. The knife blade inched closer until she felt it pressed to the skin of her chest, and then started to press a little deeper. Lucy felt blood trickle from the small wound.

The man above her suddenly went still, looking confused for a second, but that was all Lucy needed to push the knife away and slide off to the side so it plunged harmlessly into the ground. The man fell to the other side, and behind him Lucy saw the Ghoul. His shoulders were heaving with his panting breaths, and he was looking at her with a swirl of emotions so frantic that Lucy wasn’t sure she knew what they were. Fear, confusion, relief… anger? Her doubts about his real name fell away with that look.

Without a word, Cooper strode forward and reached down to the fallen Raider, pulling a knife out of the man’s back with a sharp yank. With his other hand he reached for Lucy, and she put her hand in his, letting him yank her up from the ground in one fluid motion, bracing her body against his when she staggered. There wasn’t time to talk about his name now. Not until the Raiders had been fully handled. Cooper sheathed his knife and drew one of his guns, and Lucy retrieved hers, and the two of them went to work.

By the time Lucy got back to the fighting, it was almost done. Kelly was hiding behind a rock with her brother and another child next to her, and she popped out to fire off a shot towards one of the surviving Raiders, catching him in the shoulder, then finishing him with a shot to the chest. As the last of the attackers turned to flee, Lucy raised her gun, but Cooper beat her to it, and the retreating woman’s head exploded into a red mist.

In the absence of gunfire things were eerily quiet, save for the sounds of crying. Slowly the other survivors started coming out from their hiding places, all of them disheveled or injured or both. Bea and Sam went straight to the wagon and pulled out one of the young twins, Camille, who was bawling loudly and wordlessly, followed by another child named Eleanor who was in a similar state. Baby Anna was strapped to Bea’s back and was also wailing loudly enough that Lucy was hopeful the baby was okay. A silent baby would have been a much worse sign.

While Lucy was doing a headcount, Cooper ran for the overturned wagon, passing Bea as she moved away from it to try and calm Camille and Eleanor. He flung aside the remaining canvas covering and when his footsteps faltered Lucy felt her heart drop into her stomach. Immediately she started hurrying over to join him, but Cooper turned, seeing her approach. Holstering his gun, he moved forward to stop her before she could get close enough to see anything of the occupants, shaking his head as he did.

“Lucy, no,” he said, raising both hands to take her by the arms. Lucy tried to push past him and he tightened his grip, turning to put himself more between her and the wagon.

“I need to see,” Lucy panted, fear and adrenaline stealing her breath away. Again Cooper shook his head.

“No, you don’t. You don’t need to see it.”

“Let go of me, Cooper!”

The use of his name again seemed to shock him, and Lucy used the moment to tear herself free of his grip and run the short few feet between her and the wagon. Inside was a mess, and it was hard to tell what was what, but Lucy knew at least one thing: Irene was crumpled, staring sightlessly and wide eyed up at the opening Lucy was looking down through, and the stare felt accusatory. Several other bodies lay twisted and partially covered by their store of supplies, though what exactly had killed them Lucy couldn’t tell. Bullets, the blast from whatever explosive had been used, or something else entirely.

Lucy fell back from the wagon and turned, heaving, unsure if she was going to throw up; tears poured over her cheeks. She felt a small hand on her arm and looked to find Kelly standing next to her, looking sorrowful and scared and so very very young in that moment. Lucy sobbed once, loudly, then swallowed down the sounds, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

“Kelly, are you okay? Is Nate okay?” she asked, voice raw and hoarse. Kelly nodded her head, but she was looking past Lucy to the wagon, tears welling up in her eyes.

“We- We’re okay. But the wagon…”

Lucy shook her head and looked up to see Cooper had moved away and was checking who else was alive.

“I need you to stay away from the wagon, okay?” The meaning was clear to Kelly and she started to shake, but nodded, holding her brother a little closer to her side. When all was said and done, they had lost five more survivors, leaving one more child in the group freshly and fully orphaned. Lucy felt a little more of her will stolen away. Despite it all, she helped Cooper salvage what they could from the wagon. She wanted to bury or burn the bodies, but when she brought it up to Cooper he shook his head.

“Raider groups tend to be a lot bigger than what we saw. I think if we stick around any longer we’re gonna be seeing more of ‘em. Ain’t no time to bury them.”

Lucy nodded reluctantly at his words and didn’t offer an argument. Vault 4 was still at least a day away from them, maybe even a little more, and now they had no wagon to help transport supplies or children.

As soon as they had all they could salvage, Lucy picked up Nate, putting him up on her back and fashioning a long strip of cloth into a makeshift seat for him so her arms would still be free, and one of the other surviving adults, Sam, picked up their newest orphan, a four year old named Ben. The older children would have to walk. Irene’s blank stare sat in the back of Lucy’s mind, watching her long after the remains of the wagon had disappeared from sight.

Kelly stuck close to Lucy’s side, and neither she nor Camille complained about having to walk. Even after the sun had set and their punishing march continued. None of them wanted to stop. Nobody wanted to spend any more time out there than they needed to now. There wouldn’t be time to mourn until the rest of them were safe again. Every moment of peace they had had before felt like a mistake now. Every time they had stopped to rest seemed like an error made. If they had only kept going, maybe the Raiders wouldn’t have caught them.

The dark thought weighed as heavily on Lucy as all of the deaths. She thought a lot of Irene, who she had hoped could live out the rest of her life comfortably and unafraid in the Vault. With how old she had been, she deserved that much. Not to die in a wagon on the road between their old destroyed home and their new home.

The sun was rising again when Lucy saw the entrance to Vault 4 that she and Max had been sent out through a lifetime ago. Cooper had picked up Camille, but Kelly had refused being helped or carried in any way. Dogmeat stuck close to the girl’s side, and Lucy was grateful to the animal, because hers was the only support Kelly would allow, even if it was just her presence. Red stains still adorned Dogmeat’s muzzle and chest from their fight, and Lucy had no doubt she had done her share of fighting to protect them.

The group came to a stumbling stop outside the doors of the Vault, and Lucy went to the panel to plug in her Pip-Boy. It didn’t take long for a voice to crackle over the intercom at them.

“I thought we told you you were banished, Lucy.”

Lucy sighed with relief to hear Birdie’s voice, rather than that of the Overseer, who had not been as fond of letting people in.

“Please, it’s not for me. We found a settlement. They were attacked. We have children with nowhere else to go.” Lucy hated to beg, but if anyone would understand, it would be Birdie. There was silence for long enough that Lucy was getting ready to plead her case again, but then the door groaned and hissed and started to move. Lucy stumbled in relief, managing to catch herself at the last second on the console, though she felt a hand on her arm steadying her, and looked over to find Cooper at her side. In the early morning light it was easy to see the disgust on his face as he looked at the Vault door. Lucy was reminded that he had some sort of bad history with Vault-Tec, though they had never spoken about what it was.

Once the door finished opening, Birdie and a few other Vault-dwellers came out, casting their eyes over the disheveled group. Lucy saw pity in Birdie’s eyes, and the woman nodded with a heavy sigh. She looked to Lucy.

“You returned our fusion core to us after we banished you before. You won’t be offered a permanent place with us, but I can offer you a little time to settle your people in and recover. No more than a night or two. Then you’ll have to be on your way again.” She glanced to the side at Cooper, and for a moment Lucy thought Birdie was going to say something about him, maybe tell them he couldn’t come in at all, but then she nodded her head at them, and turned to lead them inside.

As the group started to move, too tired to be nervous, Cooper hung back, and Lucy looked at him. His face was twisted into a look of confusion and doubt.

“Come on. It’s just for a little while. I promise, Vault-Tec isn’t running this Vault anymore. Its survivors and surfacers.”

Cooper looked at the little girl in his arms, who was too tired to cry anymore but refused to go to sleep, and then nodded his head. Lucy saw him swallow hard, and when he lifted his foot to move forward it looked like it was made of iron and he struggled to lift it. But after another step he was at her side and the two of them entered the Vault, Dogmeat trotting along ahead of them with Kelly. Behind them, the gate screeched and groaned again, and the morning light started to fade until it was replaced entirely by the artificial lights of Vault 4.

[whoreishghost]

i am like Not able to eat basically at all rn and this has beem ongoing for like 3-4 ish weeks now. in the first 2 weeks i cld eat a bit more but still like rlly way way too little and when i had my adhd review i was pretty surprised i had acc gained a bit of weight so i just sort of brushed off the not eating as me misremembering how much ive eaten. but now i like, am basically on a liquid only diet (and i cant drink anything thicker ? ig than like a diet coke bc that also makes me feel sick, tried having a milkshake at one point and i felt soooooo bad) bc 1 i like just dont get hungry at all, and 2 even if i feel ig the closest thing to describe wld be peckish (like im craving a specific flavour or texture) by the time i start eating it i rlly rlly do not want to be and its like, u know when ur so full its like hard to chew and u just want to spit the food out? like that. ive been trying very hard to like force myself thru this by like letting myself eat and buy whatever food i want at literally any time of day bc while it is expensive ive lost kind of a lot of weight v quickly (tw ed: this is about as much as id lose in a month whilst restricting v heavily in just under than 2 weeks). its worked to a degree but honestly im mostly just wasting food and honestly money, and whenever i do manage to eat a bit, itll be like 1 small size serving of poke (currently the only food that has been tolerated even slightly, ig maybe bc it has a "fresh" flavour? idk) eaten over the course or 5-6 hours bc i cldnt eat it faster than that which even then was not rlly tolerated bc i felt fucking disgusting physically, and then basically anything else (eg a genuinely really nice tasting stew my wife made, a mozzarella and avocado sandwich, just an avocado w salt, pasta, etc) makes me so nauseous and uncomfortable that i have to go force myself to throw up right after ive eaten to not literally be in hell for like 8-9 hours (i have an extremely low tolerance for managing nausea and the amazing ability to basically never throw up ever by myself hence the "forcing myself" which yes bad but also i refuse to be regurgitating and getting acid reflux whilst in pain for that whole day because i tried to eat smthn). i originally thought it was probably psychological bc ive been doing v v badly and to a degree it is (i cba to cook or eat rlly) but even when i have the food to eat i cant do it then either? idrk what to do, i have brought it up to drs multiple times who just tell me its poor mental health management and imply i need to ig "try harder". theres also the fact that it is v triggering for my disordered eating brain bc i am unintentionally restricting a lot and i am losing a lot of weight and its been v difficult not to just spiral down that sort of thought process into just not eating at all. feeling kind of like this is either gna randomly stop at some point and itll just be a confusing period of my life or im going to get v v unwell without support and be blamed for it

[demonslayedher]

Heyooo how are u doing?? I've had this doubt for a while so I wanna know what u think abut it. Maybe its a bit gross to ask but I'm so damn interested in demon biology, I'm too curious to know how their bodies work compared to ours. Ok so we know that demons can feel human emotions ((anger, sadness, excitement, love, fear, ...)) and that they can also feel hunger, but do demons have the same general needs as humans? Like for example when they eat do they use up all their food as energy or do they also generate waste? Could a demon get a human or another demon pregnant? And do female demons get periods? All we know is that they can't get sick, that their eyes are always damp and that they don't need to sleep ((only exception being nezuko, and also maybe enmu sleeps too if he wants since he always talks about dreams)). But anyway these are the things I'd like to know. Afaik they're never explained in the manga but I'd like to know what u think is the case with them even if its just your headcanons. Thank u if u find the time to respond and byebye!

Oh man, Anon, I have wondered about some of these so much myself and I am still clueless on a lot of them. In a totally serious way because of how it can be used for tracking and studies, Kakushi have probably been trying to answer the “do demons poop” question for centuries. You’ve already hit a lot of the points stated in canon, so I can only go with my own headcanon-ish assumptions on a lot of these. First, for digestive system analysis, I’ve done my best with that on this post with lots of canon examples. As for the poop question, since the more powerful demons have displayed that they don’t necessarily need to eat by having food enter their digestive track by the traditional opening, I assume it doesn’t need to leave traditionally either, if at all. Plus, Nezuko needs energy, but bypasses a digestive system altogether. However, we can still assume demons have a lot of the same parts even if they are wired in different ways; Muzan still benefits from things like brains and hearts and Akaza is still full of muscle. Demons at least have stomachs, for they will vomit if they try to consume human food. Although Tamayo taught herself to consume black tea after dedicated efforts to train her system to survive on corpses and animals and then later on very small amounts of fresh human blood, the demons typically only consume human flesh, and they require it in order to power their abilities to regenerate (including regenerating from a human body into a demon body, as the transformation takes a lot of energy). We know from the fanbooks that demons could also absorb each other, as Kokushibo did to demons who challenged him and failed. That makes me wonder if their entire digestive system is like one very powerful series of small intestines, sucking all the use out of any flesh consumed, and leaving nothing behind. As I touched on in the aforementioned analysis, it may also be that less powerful demons only eat the parts of humans that are easy for them to fully digest. As for sleep (as well as more analysis about the necessity to eat humans), I went into that more here. As a quick review, it doesn’t seem demons need sleep (given Rui’s reaction to Nezuko conking out), but it’s not unheard of for them to get knocked out, like the Temple Demon after his body’s fall, and Nezuko falling unconscious after Giyuu gave her a chop to the neck, which subdued her enough for him to get a muzzle on her. Nezuko probably initially fell asleep upon reaching the safety of Urokodaki’s place because she was beyond exhausted due to lack of sustenance, so other starved demons probably would pass out too. As for demon fertility, this is totally headcanon territory for lack of the topic coming up, but my thought is that they aren’t fertile. First and most importantly, because Muzan prohibits any demons from sharing their blood/genes (and thereby, influence) with anyone or making any other demons without his permission. Second, because there’s no physical necessity to ensure the survival of the species that way. Third, because I just prefer them not having this ability, personally. If people want to play with that idea, I can think of no canon reason against it. Due to circumstantial evidence I headcanon that Muzan’s “daughter” in Asakusa is only his step-daughter, but I see the fanwork appeal in her being his real offspring and I won’t stand in the way of people who want to work with that premise, it’s just not my thing. For Muzan to have played the role of a convincing husband, though, I assume the parts function similarly to humans. Even if female demons were fertile, given their regenerative abilities I see no reason for them to have to shed the lining of the uterus. I have indeed wondered if Nezuko didn’t get her first period until well after recovering back into being a human, though she did have a 3-centimeter growth spurt over the course of her big sleep.

I also am very curious about Nezuko’s recovery back into being a human, as she didn’t have the advantage of demon cells finding quick new ways to adjust, she was just one very tired human. And when did she get her appetite back? Was it quick and ravenous, or did it feel strange to eat again and she had to start with light and simple foods? Does she stub her toe and find herself wondering a minute later why it still hurts? Does she ever get stuck, having totally misjudged what she could fit into?

[oopsimbug]

in which... y/n is just trying to put on eyeliner and harry is bored pt. two

a/n: when she’s back from a six month hiatus after making only ONE fic. wow, do i suck. for anyone who cares, school has been pretty rough. i’m actually procrastinating studying for an exam to finally upload this. it’s been pretty hard to balance both school and writing but oh well. anywho, here it finally is. it took so long to write because i wasn’t feeling very inspired by this. a lot of people asked for a part two and even though i kinda wanted to leave it on a sad note, i am a sucker for giving the people what they want, so sorry if this is a bit shit- i definitely don’t like this one myself. i guess i’m not one for fluffy endings. well, at least for this one i wasn’t. i really hope you enjoy it! more stuff to come, if school doesn’t mind fucking off for a little while (or maybe just forever?) xox -(a) bug

pairing: best friend! harry styles x reader

summary: Harry is worried about Y/n. Y/n is worried about Harry. Harry is solving it by thinking of ways to check on her, while Y/n uses cheesy pasta and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air as an excuse to not think. But what will happen when someone is at her door, and it’s not her delivery man?

warnings: angst, swearing, y/n and harry being idiotos, fluffy end, kissing

word count: 5.3k

It had been a week.

One gruelling, painfully long week.

Harry was biting his nails, staring up at the ceiling as he laid in his bed, worrying about her.

About how he fucked up.

He didn’t think that she would be upset for this long. He thought she would scream at him and then text him the following day, wanting to hang out- a silent “I forgive you”, he supposed.

But after two days of radio silence on her end, he decided to call her. The only problem was that her last words to him were “leave”. She wanted space. She needed to think things through- what things? Harry had no clue. But he had to respect her and her choice to not want him around. So with that, he put down the phone.

But a small part of him (okay fine, a big part of him), wanted her to just show up at his house so they could cuddle again, talking about the stupidest of things while they made cupcakes in his kitchen. They would be listening to groovy music and now and then, they’d stop mixing bowls and sifting flour to dance- well, they were horrible dancers, so more so just wave their hands, hips and shoulders around. It would be fun and would always end up with them laughing at one another. He would lick the batter and she would berate him, telling him that “one of these days, you are going to get salmonella and I’ll just laugh at your stupid ass” and he would retort with something witty and a bit flirty like “don’t worry darling, we both know you would be right at my side if I got sick. I know you can’t stand being apart from me” with a wink and a cheeky smirk. He just wants to see her in her oversized Space Jam hoodie and little basketball shorts. Or her short flower shirt and his sweatpants that she has to cuff at the bottoms because they’re too long. Or even-

He’s gotta stop thinking about her, or his brain will soon explode. But he just can’t stop. He tries to think of the happier moments, like her showing him a tour of her very healthy houseplants that she prides herself in, but every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is her teary face telling him to leave. So no, if he was given the choice to think of her flailing her arms around in his kitchen to dancehall tunes while making sweet treats or crying at something that he provoked, you bet your ass he’d choose the former.

But after the seventh day, he knew that something wasn’t right. This was too much “thinking time”. For all he knew, she could be fine, but she could also be positively bawling. She could be living for this free time, but she also could be waiting for him to make the first move. She could be wanting Harry out of her life for her benefit forever, but she also could be feeling lonely and counting the seconds for their makeup, just like he was.

That was it. He had to go see her and make sure his best friend was okay.

He practised what he was going to say to her in his car on the way to her apartment. “Y/n, I’m so sorry for how I acted. I didn’t stop to think about how you were feeling and didn’t take your emotions into account which was unbelievably wrong of me. I’m truly sorry. It’s just that I really care about you and you’re my best friend and I can’t see you choose a tinder fuck over me and if I saw him in the street I would knock his lights out and I just want to kiss you, can I kiss you, oh god please let me kiss you I just want to-“

Fuck, what was wrong with him? Why was he so upset? He had been on plenty of dates with other celebrities and models and she was always on the sidelines, cheering him on. So why was he getting so touchy-feely about a single tinder date? Maybe he was just in desperate need of attention. He hadn’t had a girlfriend for almost one year and casual fuck arounds also stopped about four months ago, so maybe he just needed to fuck someone quick. That would explain why he sees his best friend’s kindness and natural flirty nature as something more romantic. Every laugh at his jokes, every look in her eyes, every graze of her hand on his thighs as she leans over him to get her drink on the side table next to him, he becomes more switched on and awake. She leaves him feeling giddy and excited at every conversation. “This can’t just be because I’m horny right?” he cannot believe he would ever be that horny. What the hell was he going to do?

*

This is pathetic she thought.

I’m pathetic.

She let out a huge sigh before shoving another forkful of cheesy pasta into her mouth.

What am I doing?

The answer?

Eating carbs upon carbs upon carbs, lounging on her comfy sofa in the most comfortable, yet daggiest pair of pyjamas ever while watching reruns of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air for the fiftieth time, actively avoiding all commitments, housework and jobs that involve moving further than to the kitchen, which even then was an embarrassingly burdening trek on its own.

But she let it slide. How could she not? She was upset and this was how she coped. That’s what she kept reminding herself as she boiled more and more pasta watching the days pass her by without realisation, but now, she’s beginning to question if this was the best idea. Pushing all thoughts of him out of her mind by not looking at her phone just in case he called or texted. But she was beginning to struggle.

It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what inner turmoil she was facing. He seemed genuinely hurt when she snapped at him. He truly didn’t understand why she took so much offence to the playground ribbing, it seemed. And she had to go be a dick and ignore him. He was probably worried sick. How many times would he have called to check up on her? 10? 15? The more she thought about it, the more she wanted this stupid feud to be over and just be in his arms again, even if it’s just as a friend. So she caved. Turned on her phone, expecting there to be at least a call or a text asking if she was still alive or not. And although she did receive a message of that likeness, it wasn’t from Harry, no. It was from her daily water tracking app, pleading her to fill in her daily intake of water so as to not die of dehydration after she was suspected to have not drunk any for the entire week when in reality, she was just too in her head to open her stupid phone and log her water.

Wow, she thought.

Now not only has Harry chosen to not speak to you, but you also look like a huge idiot right now. Of course, he wouldn’t want to talk to you! You got pissed at him for absolutely no reason and now he hates you. He’s gonna ask for his cardigan and track pants that he keeps at your house in case he wanted to sleepover. He’s going to take back all of his little knick-knacks that he leaves over, like the cute diffuser that he leaves because he knows you need it for your constant hay-fever that blocks your nose and then he’s going to declare that you aren’t friends anymore and then you will never get the chance to tell him how you feel and then-

Her panicky brooding is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Who the hell could that be?”, she thinks. It was too late for it to be the postman with her package containing her entire Amazon wish list that she bought on the third day of mourning to make herself feel better. But it couldn’t be Mrs Xiao asking her if she had any holes in her shirts that needed stitching. The sweet old lady fell asleep at 8:37 pm sharp after her medicine that she’d take at 8:30 pm would kick in (which she learnt after spending nights over at her apartment where her niece, Mei, took care of her. Y/n would learn traditional recipes like baozi and watch movies with her two friends all the time). It couldn’t be Mei either, she was always in online uni lectures from 8:30-10:30 pm, locked away in her little study, so as to not bother or be bothered. So now, a little panicked, Y/n wondered who was truly at her door?

Another two knocks come, echoing off the walls of her little apartment as she turns down the volume of the program she was watching. She stares at the door from her couch, debating whether she should risk getting stabbed by a possible murderer or not, before ultimately deciding that life was too short. She was also getting sick and tired of the knocks that kept arriving in threes. She swings her legs off the couch and onto the floor, pushing them into her slippers so that her feet wouldn’t touch the cold floor, waddling her way to the door before shyly opening it, peeking at who it could be through the tiny crack in the opening, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t mind her current state: belly filled with pasta, hair knotty, giant shirt with sweatpants on and Harry’s patchwork cardigan hanging off her shoulders- which she had been wearing all day, cherishing the pretty piece of clothing and his scent imbedded in it, taking it all in just in case he asks for it back. She peeps at the torso of this mystery person, realising that Harry owns the jumper worn by them, before looking up and locking eyes with a worn out and tired eyed Harry, one hand in the pocket of the familiar hoodie and another extended out near the door, ready to knock again before freezing when it opens up all the way to show herself to her best friend. He doesn’t eye her up and down cheekily like he normally does when she is wearing pyjamas, wolf-whistling at her relaxed state, claiming that “You look runway-ready, my love! Do a twirl for the crowd, will you?”. Instead, he stares her right in the eyes with what looks like almost relief, before smiling a weak and broken smile.

One of them needed to break the silence or both would have just stared at each other in her doorway until the world exploded. So she starts.

“Hi.” her voice hovers a tinge above a whisper, almost as though if she dared to speak louder, this probable illusion of the one she loves would fade away. He lights up a little bit, probably relieved that she started the conversation.

“Hey,” his soft voice matched her volume and tone as if he too didn’t want this to be a dream. “May I come in?” The words sound awkward to her coming out of his mouth. Harry never had to ask for permission to be invited in- he usually just strolled in without so much as a holler to indicate he was present, finding amusement in scaring her instead while she was doing whatever she was doing, whether that be reading, watching a movie, cooking or napping. They were the best of friends and never had to inquire about entry to each other’s domains, along with other small things like if they had anything in their kitchens to eat or if they could sit somewhere, so hearing it was a little disheartening and provoked Y/n to think about how serious this situation was.

“Okay”, she replied after the pause of contemplation, opening the door fully so that the lanky boy could follow along behind her, like a little puppy. She didn’t like how awkward the situation was. She just wanted things to go back to what they were.

But then you wouldn’t be able to tell him you love him... her inner voice argued. And she agreed. She knew that yes, this will be awkward, but it’s an opportunity for him to listen to her and know that she isn’t joking.

“Would you like some tea?” She enquires. They’ll need to handle this like proper grown-ups (which in all honesty, isn’t their dynamic- it’s more like first-year uni students who are mature enough to have deep conversations but still laugh at dad jokes and anything remotely serious, like a painting with boobs), and from what she knows, or has seen in movies when the characters are being serious, is that you need tea or a drink of that sort and a sit down on the couch where you talk stuff out. So that’s exactly what she does.

“Yes please,” Harry’s soft voice replies as he toes off his boots that most definitely cost more than her apartment. Y/n nods and heads to the small kitchenette and flips the switch on the electric kettle before going into her cupboard that housed the mugs. Harry stood awkwardly near the sofas, and to save him the embarrassment of waiting while standing, Y/n invites him to sit with a small, “You can take a seat,” and a quick glance at him before returning her gaze to the mugs to make herself look busy. She didn’t want to look him in the eyes for more than three seconds in fear of bursting into tears and the worn out and tired sight of him. She shakes the thought out of her head and begins to prepare the mugs.

Y/n put two teabags in her mug while putting one in Harry’s. She was raised in a household of avid tea drinkers and she inherited her strong tea quirk from her father who would always keep two teabags with only a dash of milk, and the only difference between her tea and her fathers was that Y/n wasn’t strong enough to take her tea without sugar, unlike her father, who thought that drinking unbelievably concentrated leaf juice with milk was a fun and relaxing time. On the other hand, Harry liked to keep one tea bag in his mug while he drank it, but just like her father, he too took little to no sugar with his cup, being the health freak he was. And early in their friendship, when she mentioned it to him, Harry chuckled and chirped, “Your father is a smart man. He has to be for raising amazing and talented people like your siblings. I’m not sure what went wrong with you though...” while booping her nose as they laid together under a tree for a little picnic. And though she rolled her eyes at him and punched his shoulder for the sly dig at her, she was practically beaming at the fact that he thought her family was smart. Harry had no idea how much that meant to her. Y/n loved her entire family, and she was unbelievably close to them, so it made her entire week to know that Harry, someone she respected and loved so much, recognised how talented and smart each of her family members were. Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t need the validation to know that her family was amazing, but she felt so special knowing he took the time to notice. He did that a lot though. Doing things that meant a lot to her without batting an eye. Saying things that only a person as observant as he could notice, like complimenting her eye colour in the light and asking her to read for him because he constantly mentions how much he loves her voice.

Y/n looked over to the same sweet guy she fell head over heels for, who was sitting on her couch, fidgety as ever, and wondered if they would ever be the same after the very next moments to come. She didn’t want things to change between them, but she was dying inside knowing that he wasn’t hers. And getting over him was not in the question, after the fiasco that happened last week. She just wished she could get inside his head to sate her painful curiosity.

What is he thinking about?

**

What is she thinking about?

It’s the million-dollar question running through his mind. What was she pondering over as she made them tea? Did she want to talk to him? Was she mad that it took him so long to find the balls to face her? Was she as nervous as he was? Was she worried that they would never be the same again like he was?

He was going into panic mode, questioning everything, while probably looking stupid as ever. As much as he regretted how awkward things were now, and the fact that he instigated her to lash out at him a week ago, he was realising that he was not regretting the fact that he did it. He didn’t want her to go out with someone else, and she didn’t. And yes, of course, he feels bad-beyond bad, in fact- for making her cry, and wishes he could take it all back, he also sees this as an opportunity to tell her how he feels about her. He could finally tell her that he thinks about her all the time. About her soft smile, her bright eyes, her melodic laugh, her speaking voice that brings butterflies to his stomach. He could tell her about how he loses himself at work, the grocery store, fuck- even at events- thinking about what she was doing at her house. Was she under her blankets on her couch, watching some corny tv show? Was she baking her signature choc chip cookies that taste like the gods blessed every single biscuit on the tray before they were put in the oven? Was she knitting her cat, Chesnut, another rug to plonk herself down on, with her feet up on the ottoman as she listened to the 7 o’clock news on the radio? Was she writing a paper for another deadline? Something so sophisticated, like the exploration of white and male privilege and how it is ingrained in our society? Something that Harry tried to understand and research so that he could stay in the loop with his smart girl’s interests, but he always struggled with.

It was a huge insecurity of his. Not that his best friend was smarter than he was, no way. He treasured the fact that she could and would whip his ass at a debate on things like the state of the world, or human rights. She could school him on global politics, languages, maths, science, history and literally anything else, and he would be cheering her on. What he was insecure about was her realising that he was probably slowing her down in life. Y/n was well within her rights to kick him out of her life for being nothing but a freeloader and stopping her from reaching her full potential, what with him constantly stopping her from her own life to help him go through shit happening in his. Whenever he was sad, or confused, or upset, Y/n was the first person he would talk to and he feared that she would realise that he was probably taking advantage of her and stop talking to him. And that scared him. It scared him because he knew that she didn't need him at all, but he needed her to do anything in life. Every major and minor decision in his life has been approved by Y/n first, and not because she was a controlling friend who didn’t trust him with his own life, but because Harry needed her validation. Harry Styles, a world-famous superstar, had girls, guys and non-binaries at his feet, following his every beck and call. Harry Styles, who was on the cover of every magazine, known by every celebrity, dated only the most perfect of women, required validation from Y/n, a psychology major at a small university. Y/n, who liked to plan her day out on a to-do list, end up not doing anything on that to-do list and cry about it afterwards. Y/n, who breaks it down to “Murder She Wrote” by Chaka Demus & Pliers like it’s her last 4 minutes and 5 seconds alive on this Earth while making pancakes. Y/n, who cries more when she’s laughing while watching Tik Toks than she does during sad movies.

To celebrities, Y/n was nothing but a regular. But to Harry, she was all. She was the warmth of a sweater that you toss in the dryer for a few minutes to make it extra toasty. She was the pad of butter that you spread onto your pumpkin sourdough toast and it ends up being exactly the amount you wanted. She was the feeling when you are driving home from a long day of interviews and premiers, and you’re on the freeway and the windows down and you just… exist. She is the feeling you get when you watch Pride and Prejudice, and the relief of when you find the perfect word to end a lyric. She is when your shoes fit perfectly, and when you finish a book so utterly fulfilling that you lie there in a trance, looking up at your ceiling at 3 am, wondering how you could have been so lucky to be able to be blessed with an ending like the one you just read. Y/n was all those things and more.

And that’s why he had to tell her he loved her. No matter how scared he was.

***

The electric kettle is finished boiling the tea all too quickly as the bubbling comes to an end and the distinct click of the switch turning back off echoes around the silent apartment. Y/n had poured the scalding hot water into the two cups she had prepared stared into them.

It was time. She had tried to avoid this for as long as possible, but now it was the moment to face the music. She picked up the two mugs of tea and brought them to her lounge where Harry was sitting on her worn in green sofa, staring at her coffee table, eyebrows scrunched, pouted lips, deep in thought, before looking up at her with wide green eyes, and followed her to where she stood in front of him. She passed his mug to him before sitting on the comfy chair a few feet away from the sofa and from him, putting some distance in between them for her sake, so that she wouldn’t try to hug him and say sorry without saying what she needed to say first. Which she needed to start talking about now, so as not to sit in the awkward silence created by the two.

Say something!!

“So…’

Jesus fuck…. was that all you could think of? Wow. I am going to lose my best friend.

Y/n was choking.

“I am so sorry,” Harry’s voice intercepts, raspy from the lack of use, looking up from the coffee table he seemed so interested in. “I am so fucking sorry Y/n. I have no excuse as to why I was making fun of you that day. I pushed too far and I am a shit friend for not noticing that you were already on edge. It was so wrong of me and I am so sorry.” He stopped himself before he started to ramble, looking at her with eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t decipher.

Y/n felt… unsatisfied. Why did she feel this way? He apologised, right? So why does she feel unfulfilled? Why does she want him to say more? He hit all of the points he had to for a standard apology, so why did she think he hadn’t done enough? Was it that little optimist in her brain hoping he would maybe reveal a slight attraction to her? Maybe tell her that he loves her, and has loved her forever and ever? Confess that she has bewitched him, body and soul so that she didn’t have to? God, was she an idiot. But a lovestruck idiot at that. She bites her tongue and replies.

“Harry, I forgive you. Although you were annoying as ever,” She rolls her eyes and smirks, while he lets out a breathy, half-assed chuckle, showing his acknowledgement at her attempt to ease the lowered yet still prevalent tension. She continues. “ I understand that you were just trying to have fun. I guess I was the one who irrationally lashed out . I am always okay with you poking fun at me, but I was just frustrated and tired and I took it out on you. I’m sorry for the improper communication and I’m sorry for pushing you away when we should’ve just talked…”

“I forgive you too. I think this was just miscommunication on both parts.” He stared into her eyes, almost as if he could sense the discontent in her, but chose to ignore it.

“I guess so.” She halfheartedly answered, not really knowing where to take the conversation next. They had both apologised, but evidently still had things to say. Well, Y/n had things to say, that’s for sure, but she was pretty sure that Harry wanted to say something too. He had that look on his face where he wanted to say something but was forcing himself not to.

What does he want to say? Why can’t he say it to my face? I mean, sure, I’m also hiding shit I wanna say, but I have an excuse. This could ruin our friendship. What does he have to say?

“Great,” Harry replies, trying to fill the awkward pauses and conversation that is being held. He still looked like he had something to say, but seemed like he was not budging.

Well, if he’s not saying anything, I’m not either. Why do I have to confess my feelings and put our friendship on the line if he isn’t even going to say what’s on his mind?

“So, are we good?”

“I don’t know. Are we? I mean, I forgive you and you forgive me, right?”

“Right… No yeah, we’re alright. We’re completely fine!” Y/n replies quickly. Why the fuck would you say that? You’re not fine.

There is a pregnant pause and Y/n has half a better mind to just get up, walk to the bathroom again with her head down and lock herself in there till he leaves again, because she cannot take this awkward conversation. Not with him. She shifts, ready to stand up to get some water, when Harry looks at her, confusion and slight panic setting into his face.

“Wait. I don’t think I’m fine…” She looks up at the boy sitting in front of her, reading the words from her mind like they were scribed on a piece of paper in the blackest of ink, permanent and bold. Her heart stuttered. What else did he want?

“Is everything okay, H?” she tentatively asks. He loses eye contact with her, gaze lowering towards the table in front of him

“I-” he pauses, trying to collect his thoughts while simultaneously trying to explain to her why he wasn’t okay. “I just- fuck” his head falls down, his face inches away from the hot tea in his hands, the humid steam billowing out of the mug and warming his elegant face as he takes a deep breath and tries once more to convey his thoughts. “I don’t want us to be friends again.”

Her heart stops. This could go one of two ways. He could either be confessing his hatred or his adoration for her, and either one would probably end with her imploding. She tries to take a neutral tone when she replies.

“What does that mean, H?”

He looks at her once more. “It’s not enough, Y/n... “

“What?” She is confused. Her friendship isn’t enough? How is she supposed to reply to that?

“I want more. I don’t want us to just be friends. I want to be more with you. I want to do more with you. I want to do things that friends… they shouldn’t do together…”

Is he trying to confess he likes her? Why, in all the ways you could speak, would he choose to speak like that?! She has had enough of him dawdling around his feelings. “Harry, stop being cryptic and fucking tell me what’s going on?!”

“I love you, Y/n! I fucking love you, Y/n. So much. And it is eating me from the inside out. I hate that we can’t be normal anymore, and I hate that you don’t love me the way I love you, but I cannot sit here and pretend everything is fine, because I love you.”

Y/n is stunned. Frozen in her spot. Can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe. Stuck in space, and stuck in time.

Holy fucking shit… he loves me…

While Y/n processes the life changing knowledge that her best friend loves her, her best friend conveniently sits next to her, wishing that he was dead for the letdown he was about to receive.

“Say something… please, for the love of God, say something!”

****

She looks up at Harry. Not Harry Styles, playboy, whore, singer, millionaire, but instead; Harry, her best friend of five years, reddened face out of embarrassment. She sees the mortality in his eyes. Feels his presence so heavily in the moment. She is in awe. True awe of him, and his ability to love her. And with that awe- and that stupid look on her face, she reaches up and cradles his face in her hands, brushing her thumbs softly over his plush pink lips. He stands just as still as her, barely breathing, as if it would shatter the fantasy to stardust and he would wake up in his bed, cold shivers running down his spine, as has happened previously whenever he thought of this moment, staring up at his ceiling at 3:40AM wondering why he thought of his best friend in such a way. She creeped closer to his face before stopping a breath away from him, and whispered.

“Is this okay?”

She looked into his eyes, and he looked into hers, both never feeling so alive before. He wishes to tell her that she needn’t ask for his permission, and that he wants to kiss her forever. Eternally locked in an embrace that holds their souls together. But all he can muster is a weak and broken whisper back.

“Please,”

She can hold it for no longer, and leans in the rest of the way, their lips moulding together, for the very first time, eyes fluttering close, as his hands reach to grab her by the hips to straddle him, deepening the kiss even further. And when they part for breath, panting for air with slightly moist lips, they touch foreheads, eyes still closed. Words needn’t be exchanged- everything that yearned to be said was useless, as it could never describe how they truly felt for each other. So hopelessly besotted with one another, that all they could do was breathe together before kissing once more, hoping that their actions could provide even an iota of an idea of how much they love one another.

Two best friends, turned lovers forevermore.

[padfootagain]

The Adviser

Hey! I'm writing this little fic for @musicallisto's event! I'm using her prompts 4 and 29 for Caspian :

4. “Can you stay with me?”

29.“Their hands on your skin…”

I'm also including a bit of the drunken confessions trope for this one!

I hope you all like it, tell me what you think about it, and thank you again Clara for hosting this event! This is just pure fluff, you know me, it's soft hours time!!!! We love cute clichés here!

Pairing : Caspian x reader

Word Count: 3597 (I've proofread but I've been writing for four hours and my brain is fried, I am so sorry if there are more mistakes than usual, forgiiiiiive meeeeee!!!)

You shouldn't have been drinking like this. Deep down, you knew it was a mistake. But what choice did you have? It was the only way to forget what this princess what doing at that moment.

Her hand was on Caspian's arm, and you didn't fail to notice the way her fingers slipped down the length of his velvet sleeve to brush against the skin of his wrist. You took another large gulp of liquor, but the image was already printed all over your eyelids when you closed your eyes and tried to blink the sight away.

It was more than you could stand. So much more than what you were humanly able to stomach. And the worst part of it all, really, was that none of this was Caspian's fault. He didn't even know about how you felt for him, so how could he have guessed that him letting her touch him like this, being so close to him, were hurting so.

But it did hurt. God, it hurt so bad.

The room was full of noises and conversations. You were celebrating the signing of a new commercial agreement between Narnia and their neighbours. It was exciting, and all the politicians that had been involved in the elaboration of the treaty and its negotiations were now enjoying a much-deserved celebration. The treaty had been signed earlier in the afternoon, and hopefully it was the first step towards a friendship between the two nations.

And you should have been celebrating as well, because after all, this treaty was your baby. You had written parts of it, you had worked for months to convince lords that this treaty was a good thing. You had worked and worked relentlessly for so long on this project. It was your baby, in a way.

When you had begun this adventure, you had envisioned yourself in the position you were finally in now. With a signed treaty resting on the king's desk in his study, and surrounded by lords, princesses and other important political figures, drinking wine and eating pastries and laughing as the future seemed a little brighter than it was before.

What you had never imagined though, was that during the months you had spent working closely with the King of Narnia, you would fall madly, desperately, hopelessly in love with him.

You wanted to slap some sense into your own head for falling for him the way you had, but it would be useless. There was nothing you could have done to avoid it. And every time you looked at him, you were reminded of this cruel truth. Nothing could have prevented you from falling in love with the king, not even yourself, not even him. Nothing, no one, could save you now.

Sometimes, it was driving you mad, really. The way he was so kind, and a little shy around you. You forgot that he was even a king, then. He had a way to make you feel safe by simply smiling at you. There was something in the way he walked, in the way he held himself, that would have betrayed his rank if he had tried to hide it. He was so… inspiring, in a way. More than that, he was magnetic. When he walked into a room, it was clear who he was. A mere glimpse at him, and even if one had no idea what the King of Narnia looked like, they would have recognized him. But then he would blush in the most precious way when complimented, bending his head as if to hide his reaction, and there was so much hesitation in his polite smiles, as if he wasn't sure what to do with himself. Maybe it was that contrast that had make your heart melt. The way he was the most charismatic man when you saw him, and the kindest when you talked to him.

Yes, yes, that was it. Or at least, part of it. Maybe it was the starting point of it all. Then, every single detail that made him unique had sealed the deal, and your heart was his, for good.

At the end of the day, though, no matter how much you loved him and how friendly and kind he was to you, he was still the King, and you were merely a representative. There was nothing special about your ancestry, even if your position now was quite high in the government. But you were one of the King's advisors, that was all, and every time you looked at one of these princesses throwing all their charms and manners at Caspian, you really couldn't hold it against him to fall for them and not you.

If he had known these inner thoughts of yours, he would have been adamant at contradicting you, at telling you that you were just as special as they were. But he was busy talking to one of them, and you were busy drinking. It ought to be the way things were meant to be, right?

After a couple more glasses of wine, your head was starting to spin and Caspian seemed to finally notice that something was off with you. He frowned hard as he saw you reaching for the nearest wall to keep your balance, while you lifted your glass to your lips again. You finished all the alcohol in one gulp. It wasn't like you though, to drink like this…

At first, he thought maybe you were simply letting loose more than usual in celebration for the treaty, but you didn't seem happy at all. On the contrary, your features were twisted in one of pain. Were you sick? A wave of fear rushed to his heart, crushing the little organ in his chest. He hurried to excuse himself and leave the princess he had been talking to. He was aware it was barely polite, but if you were unwell, he didn't exactly care about the etiquette. In fact, all his thoughts were set upon you and his worry now, he couldn't even realize what he was doing as he crossed the room in just a few long strides, ignoring people in the crowd trying to intercept him as he passed by.

You hadn't noticed him approaching, you had settled your attention on the marble ground, in an attempt to avoid seeing Caspian talk with the flirty princess that had been clinging to him for the past hour. Only when his brown boots appeared on the floor right before you did you notice his presence. You looked up in a jolt, your hair growing with fear and apprehension, while your quick movement made your head spin even more than before.

"Your Majesty," you mumbled, trying to stand a little straighter. "Can I… do anything for you?"

Your words were slurred, obvious sign of your intoxication. Caspian's frown only deepened.

"I was about to ask you the same question, you don't seem to be well," the king answered.

"I… I am perfectly fine," you lied.

"You seem to need a bit of fresh air," Caspian insisted. "Let me accompany you to the gardens."

You didn't have the strength to fight against him or argue in any way. Besides, Caspian was right, you did need a bit of fresh air to clear your mind. So you let him take your arm, assuring your balance, while he guided you outside.

The afternoon was slowly dying out into the early evening. The sun was still quite high in the summer sky, but the heat it released had diminished as the hours passed by. A salty breeze was blowing through the roses in full blossoms and the branches of the tall oaks that offered their shades to the visitors. It was quiet though, most of the inhabitants of the castle being either busy with their daily tasks, or at the reception. It was an easy task for Caspian to find a quiet spot for the two of you to walk by.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, noticing your steps were a little steadier, even if he still kept a careful hold on your arm, just in case.

"I did need a bit of air, indeed. Thank you. I feel better," you nodded.

You tried to give him a smile, but it was harder to hide your feelings when you were drunk. It seemed more like a wince, instead, and Caspian fully turned to you this time, stopping you in your tracks in the middle of the narrow path in between the bushes of roses. He remained silent for a while, the noises of the wind in branches and the bees buzzing in the flowers the only sounds you could hear. And in this quiet place, staring right into the king's dark eyes was even more hypnotizing than usual. You were suddenly very aware that the two of you were alone. And very aware that his hand still rested on your arm too…

"Are you sick? What is wrong?"

Under his insisting tone, you recognized worry. If Caspian had tried to hide it, he had failed miserably.

"I… am quite fine. I think I simply celebrated a little too much…"

"You seemed sad back there," the king shook his head, cutting you off because you could finish your lie. "You did not seem to be celebrating at all. Why? What happened?"

"Nothing. I guess… I must be very tired. The negotiations were difficult and…"

"Why are you lying to me?"

You merely stared at him, not knowing what to answer.

"I know you are lying. I know you. Why will you not tell me what is bothering you?"

"It… is nothing…"

"Is it why you drank too much?"

"I am not drunk…"

"Yes, you are. You can barely stand."

"I can," you replied, even if it wasn't true. You knew that if Caspian suddenly let go of you, you would probably fall down in the roses, and the thought of the many thorns cutting your skin wasn't particularly appealing to you.

Caspian's frown slowly disappeared though. From worry, his expression changed to one of sadness and hurt, but you didn't understand why.

"I am your friend, Y/N. Why will you not tell me? I could help…"

You let out a bitter laugh. The liquor was taking the better of your judgement, for you would have never answered him this way had you been sober.

"My friend? As if we were friends…"

Caspian stared at you with the most puzzled expression you had ever seen adorning his handsome features.

"What do you mean? Of course, we are friends."

"We are not friends. You are the king, and I am… a commoner working for you."

There was so much hurt passing through Caspian's eyes, but you didn't feel guilty. It was true, after all. And the sight of this woman with him… with her eyes all over him, and the way she leaned towards him…

It was more than you could take…

"I thought we were more than just that by now," Caspian answered in a low voice.

"How could we be?"

"Why did you drink so much tonight?"

"Because I cannot take it anymore… I… these feelings I just… I can't fight them…"

"Feelings? What…?"

But then it dawned on him, only, not completely.

Of course, a question of heart would explain your sadness and your drinking tonight, such behaviours that were so out of character for you. He wasn't particularly good at hiding the way his heart broke in his chest at the thought that you loved someone else, though. He had to be thankful for your inebriated state that made you fail to notice his reaction when it was written all over his features.

He opened his mouth to ask who this was about, but you spoke first. The wine was making your mind blurry, your thoughts turning into a whirlwind, bumping into each other and making your usual filters lift. In any other circumstances, you would have never said any of the words you were about to utter, but then, liquor and broken hearts make confessions tumble easily.

"I cannot do this anymore. I want to resign."

"Resign? What…?"

"I cannot handle it. Being around you all the time…" you went on, barely realizing Caspian was trying to speak. "And today seeing her… her hands on your skin and…"

Your voice broke, and you lost your balance for good. Caspian was still here though, and he managed to catch you in his arms right before you would fall to the dusty ground.

His brain was repeating again and again your words, trying to analyse their meanings…

Did it mean that… you… was it about him, then?

"I will take you to your room. You need to rest. Come on…"

With the gentlest gestures, he guided you back inside and to your room, crossing empty corridors and avoiding people as much as he could. No one else but him needed to see you like this.

He helped you settle in bed, and only then did he notice that you were crying.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled.

He brushed your tears away. He had never touched you this way before, and it made his heart pound in his chest like it had never before. He let his fingers linger a little longer on your cheek.

"You must rest. We will talk about this in the morning."

He gave you a warm smile before turning away, but you held him back, catching his wrist before he could walk too far away. He turned to you again with a puzzled look.

"Can you stay with me?"

Your voice was barely more than a whisper, uncertain and fragile. He was used to hearing it loud and confident while you discussed amongst politicians and advisers, it was such a drastic change, it scared him. It was evident you needed someone to take care of you at that moment, and Caspian wouldn't have let anyone else do it in his stead.

He should have gone back to the reception, but how could he leave your side now?

So, he dragged a chair next to your bed, and sat down, offering you a reassuring smile. He held your hand in his, giving it a soothing squeeze.

"As you wish. But you need to sleep now."

"Are you angry?"

"No, I am not. We will talk about it tomorrow. Now, you need to sleep. Close your eyes."

You did as ordered, and fell asleep as soon as your eyelids had fallen. The warmth of Caspian's hand on yours was the last thing you remembered before surrendering to slumber.

-----------------------------

Your headache wasn't the worst thing that happened when you woke up. Nor was your nausea, or the disgusting taste that lingered on your tongue. No, the worst part of waking up was the note you found folded by the side of your bed.

Caspian would be waiting to see you in his office.

If parts of the previous day were a little blurry, you still remembered perfectly your conversations with the King.

He would ask you to resign. Or he might even fire you altogether. He could have asked you already for someone to pick up your things and carry them out of the castle… but then, Caspian was a kind man, and you weren't altogether surprised when you picked up an outfit to dress up and found all your belongings exactly where they belonged.

After your behaviour, there was no other alternative. You had been disrespectful, and you highly doubted that the king would appreciate working with someone who had romantic feelings for him.

But your pride made you decide that you would resign first. You would not let him throw you out of the castle. If you had to leave, which was painful enough already, never to see the man you loved again, then at the very least, you could be spared the humiliation of being pushed away. At least, you would be the one leaving.

You made your way to his office, at last. Taking a deep breath before knocking on the door. Your heart missing a beat when you heard Caspian's low voice answering on the other side. You walked in.

Caspian welcomed you with a smile, he was sitting at his desk, his back to the stained-glass windows that painted colours all across the room. The light coming from behind him made the image ethereal, a vision you could have summoned in one of your dreams…

"Good morning, Y/N. Please, take a sit," he invited you. "Are you feeling better?"

You struggled to swallow, cleared your voice. His voice made butterflies tickle your belly, but you ignored the feeling. You ignored how much you wanted to comply and approach him. This was not the time. Now was the time to be strong.

You remained at a safe distance from his desk, refusing to sit down.

"Your Majesty," you tried to keep your voice steady, but couldn't help the slight shake that accompanied your words. "I am well, thank you."

He opened his mouth to speak again, but you interrupted him, raising your hand to silence him.

"Please, your Majesty… let me speak."

He nodded, letting you continue. You took a deep breath, and finally gathered the strength you needed to speak again.

"I…My behaviour yesterday was… unforgiveable. And I am aware that I have crossed a line. What transpired last night is the proof that I can no longer work for you and serve Narnia at the best of my abilities as your adviser anymore. It is why I would like to resign. I would be very thankful if you would agree to allow me to stay in the castle for one last week, to allow me to look for a new home. My resignation will be effective immediately, and I can write it down, if you want me to."

Caspian remained silent for a moment, before slowly standing up, and walking towards you. His hands behind his back, he only stopped when he was but one step away from you. You stared at him, waiting for his reaction, completely motionless.

"I agree that… your confessions from last night make it impossible for us to continue like this. Things cannot remain the same now."

You fought with all your might to refrain your tears, that merely gather at the corner of your eyes, but didn't fall. You didn't flinch, nor did you back away though.

"I do think that you need to resign from your position in our government. I would not be… proper… to have my advisor be…"

"I will inform the rest of the staff immediately," you interrupted him. Which was incredibly rude, interrupting the king… but you couldn't take it. You couldn't stomach the pain that it would make you feel to hear him say the words he was about to utter.

It was enough that he didn't love you. You didn't need him to say it out loud.

You turned on your heels, but Caspian didn't let you step away. He caught your wrist before you could move away, and you turned back towards him, your eyes growing in surprise.

"I have not dismissed you, yet," he told you, quirking an eyebrow.

"I apologize, your Majesty."

Caspian gave you a smile. You wondered what was worth smiling for though.

"I thought we had agreed that there was no need to call me this way when we are alone."

"Things have changed."

"Not nearly enough, yet."

It was your time to frown.

"There is no need for you to move out of the Castle."

"But I…"

"Would you like to take a walk in the gardens with me this afternoon?"

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, completely confused.

"I… don't understand…"

"Did you mean what you said? Yesterday? Or did I not understand you right? I thought you said you had feelings for me."

You nodded, unable to answer, fleeing Caspian's gaze.

"I did… but…"

"Well, I am asking you if you would like to take a walk with me this afternoon."

"But I… why?"

His smile grew fonder, and you noticed the way his fingertips were shaking when he reached to hold your other hand.

"I… was hoping you would… like to spend some time with me," Caspian added, hesitant this time, a little shy, pinker shades appearing to colour his cheeks. "Not as my advisor but… as… a friend…"

"A friend?" you repeated, stunned.

"Or well… maybe… maybe more than a friend."

"But I… I am…"

"I feel the same way."

He had said the last sentence as fast as he could, forcing the words out like he would have pulled an arrow out of a wound. In one, quick motion, before the strength and courage would fail him.

Your mouth fell open.

"You… you do?" you stuttered, out of breath for some reason. You only just then noticed that you seemed to have forgotten how to breathe altogether.

"I do. And well… I am afraid that you need to resign, for it would be impossible for me to court one of my advisors. But as you have done so, I thought… what about a walk?"

There were a thousand thoughts swarming in your head, and most of them were going against Caspian's idea. Most of them told you this was impossible.

But you chose to simply ignore all of them, and answer what your heart was desperately begging you to say instead.

"Yes. Yes, a walk would be lovely."

[writingoneshots]

Hello :D I really liked your last story with Law and the other with Killer!! I would also like to request something and if you don't wanna write it that's fine too. Idc about the scenario in general but how about Kid and reader fighting about almost everything daily and Kid gets pissed off and breaks up with reader. Then he finds out that she's pregnant and suddenly feels bad. You decide if they get back together or not :D

Hormones

Hi :) ! I had way too many ideas with this, which is why I randomly decided to just let my brain write what comes to its mind first. This is the result. I really hope you like it! Also.. I got a little carried away. Let me know if you don't like it, I can re-write it any time (for example: if you want a bad ending).

Ps: I tend to use names from my personal FF's because it's sometimes too strenuous to write 'Killer's girlfriend' or 'xy's partner'.. might happen in future stories as well but I will always announce it in the description first!

Have a nice day!

- Kid x reader (I also added 'Bella', who is Killer's girlfriend - I needed a name, sorry) - 2,492 words - drama, fighting, swearing, lots of thinking, SFW

The nights were almost as painful as the rest of the day lately. Kid couldn't stand not talking to you and for more than two weeks, you two have been barely speaking. The only sort of communication you two have is screaming and make-up sex, followed by another fight in the morning after. Kid loved you with his whole existence but he just couldn't take it any longer. If there was nothing fixing it tomorrow, then he would have to end it since even his crew has been in constant fear of getting killed by their own captain because he has been in a bad mood since your first fight. In the next morning, you took a quick shower and put on some clothes for breakfast. You tried your best not to think of Kid, even though you didn't know why. When you arrived at the restaurant, where the crew had been meeting up in the last couple of days, the ship's doctor patted at the empty seat next to him to offer you a seat.

He immediately used that chance and handed you some fresh fruits, "(Y/N) we really need to talk about your blood results from last week." "I know it's bad. I barely had any sleep in the last few weeks and I also have constant pain in my stomach.. could be because your captain is pissing me off lately. Stress and blah blah..", you rolled your eyes and grabbed the food before he could continue talking. "Oh, I see. This is my fault now too?", Kid came out of the bathroom and dried his hands on his little towel, which he carried around tied on his belt. You looked at him startled and didn't expect him to be here already. With a soft headshake, you just began eating the fruits, which the doctor handed you and sighed a bit. The table was quiet when Kid sat down, which was unusual. Kid ate his breakfast slowly, trying to figure out what to do or say. He looked at you, watched you eating silently and got lost in his thoughts. Should I give her a compliment? She looks good today.. But she doesn't deserve it. She didn't even want to have sex yesterday. Not even cuddling or making out.. Bitch. But if I don't say anything, she'll be mad as well. I really don't want her to leave. Fuck. Stupid woman. Suddenly a burst of loud laughter appeared from a table nearby and Kid couldn't help but take a look. A group of women was laughing about something funny that a guy has said, who was sitting with them. They were all having a good time. Kid was jealous. His table was usually the loudest one and now nobody was speaking at all. Again. His eyes wandered to the woman, who had a similar outfit as you when you once roleplayed in bed. This whole night suddenly played like a recording in his head and he couldn't help but spark a little interest again. You realized that Kid had stopped eating and when you looked at him, you realized that he was completely lost into something. Following his gaze, you didn't need too long to figure out what it was. Another woman. Kid was never interested in anyone else but you and didn't even dare to stare at someone else. But this was more than just staring. He was longing for her. "Why don't you just go and ask her to spend the night with you?", you looked at him angrily and pushed your plate aside. Kid frowned at that statement and looked confused at you. "What?" "So now you're also staring at other women? Why are you even with me? Always fighting with me, not having sex with me, staring at other women, and just being a complete idiot!", you tried to hide the tears in your eyes but it was all just too much for you. His eyes widened. He was really about to lose his mind and he had no idea how he managed to control his inner self from not exploding. "Are you fucking kidding me?", he whispered and his knuckles turned white as snow because of how hard he made a fist. "I have no fucking clue, why you're fucking mad at me. So you better shut the fuck up, before I do something that I will regret." "Oh really? And what would that be?", you crossed your arms at your chest and leaned back into the chair. "(Y/N), I am asking you now for the last fucking time. Shut. The Fuck. Up.", Kid looked down at his plate and closed his eyes right after. The metal around him began to vibrate and you raised an eyebrow at this reaction. "Guys.. please.. I can help with-" The doctor didn't have a chance to explain himself. "No, come on. Say it, Kid. What is going on in that mind of yours? Are you going to fight me again? Ignore me again? Hm?", you wiped your tears away and took a deep breath to prepare yourself for whatever he would say. "We're over." Silence. No one in this crew dared to say a word. Even Killer froze and hated himself for not interfering. You couldn't comprehend what he just said but your brain somehow understood. After taking a deep breath, you stood up without saying a word and left the restaurant. A few minutes have passed before the first one spoke up. Killer waited for the metal to stop vibrating and gave Kid a few more seconds to breathe. "You know what you just did, right?", he talked in a soft tone

and watched how Kid was slightly shaking. He could see the regret in his eyes but had no idea how to help him. "I couldn't stand this any longer.", was the only thing that Kid has said that day. He disappeared until the night has covered the skies and came back to the crew helping to carry a few things into a different cabin. Apparently, a few arrangements have been made while Kid was gone. His head was completely empty and he couldn't care less about what has happened during his absence. He just wanted to lay down and wasn't even sure if he wanted to be alone or not. Bella, Killer's girlfriend, carried your things into the girls' sleeping room where she had already spend her nights with Heat's girlfriend as well. Kid couldn't help but think of the good times when the ship only had men on board. Life was much simpler back then he would do anything to get back to it. Killer approached Kid slowly and eyed him carefully. "You seem.. calm?" Kid gave him a short side-eye and turned his attention back to the crew re-decorating his ship. "She's going to leave the ship on the next island.", Killer commented and took a deep breath. "Are you still sure about this? That you don't want to be with her?" He wasn't. But he also didn't know how to work this out. This was the first time in his life that Kid had no idea what to do. "C-captain.. I tried talking to (Y/N) but she keeps avoiding me. May I talk to you instead?", the doctor of the ship was holding some papers tight in his hands, dithering slightly. "You really think that now is a good time to talk?", Killer scratched his head and wasn't sure if this doctor was smart or stupid as hell. "Get out of my sight, man. I don't have time for bullshit right now.", Kid pushed the doctor away and walked right past him. The doctor couldn't take it any longer. "IF AT LEAST ONE OF YOU WOULD LISTEN TO ME, NONE OF THIS WOULD HAVE HAPPENED!", he screamed out of his lungs. When he suddenly realized what he just did, he wanted to jump off the ship. The whole crew went silent and stopped in their current motion. Even Killer went a step back and someone in the background started praying. Kid turned around and made two large steps towards the doctor, grabbing him by his shirt and lifting him without any struggles. His eyes were glowing in anger and his muscles were tensed, focused not to kill him within two seconds. "You have only one sentence to save your life, asshole." "(Y/N) is pregnant!" The doctor spitted that out, faster than a gun's shot. Kid froze. His grip on the doctor's shirt loosened and he stood still like a statue. The doctor got pushed to the side and Killer asked him several times if he was sure about this. The doctor nodded and showed him the results. "The mood swings, the pain in her stomach, her sex drive and the morning sickness. The blood results are proof enough.", the doctor showed it to Killer but it was worthless because Killer didn't understand any of these things. Kid let his arm slowly down and turned around, facing the corridor to the cabins. She is pregnant.. That's why she was behaving like a bitch and hated the fact that I was existing. Pregnant.. Shit. I am going to be a father? I am going to have kids.. A Kid having kids.. I can already hear the jokes. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Why am I so shocked? I never used any condoms with that woman. It's my fault. But also hers. Just because I stopped asking her to swallow.. For fucks sake. Is that bad? Can't we get rid of that? I could just leave it on an island.. but then (Y/N) would kill me or even leave me to be with that child and- Wait.. no.. nonono.. she's not even mine.. she can't leave me because I- I- .. I broke up. "Killer.. I have never seen Kid like this.", Heat looked more sad than usual and didn't know what to say. "Is he broken?" "No, he's probably just trying to think. You know.. he's barely doing that, which is why he is in this situation right now.", Killer shrugged and didn't let Kid out of his sight. This stance always meant that Kid was battling his inner self and Killer knew that his best

friend could have a mental breakdown right afterwards, which usually ends up in a killing spree every time. But this time, Kid just shook his head and went straight to the ship's corridor. He pushed away other crew members and entered the women's cabin without knocking. Heat's girlfriend was unpacking your things, while you were in the bathroom throwing up. Kid took a deep breath and approached the bathroom, now knocking softly. "Give us a second!", Killers girlfriend screamed and opened the door right after. She shrieked at the sight of Kid, not expecting to see him here. "She's not feeling well, Kid.", Bella explained carefully and blocked the sight to you. "I know. Let me talk to her." "I don't think-" "It's alright..", you sighed and washed your face right after cleaning your mouth. Bella looked at you to make sure you're okay and nodded before leaving you two alone. Kid entered the bathroom and locked the door afterwards. He wasn't sure how to start this conversation but he couldn't stop looking at you. The thought of not being the one, to own you and actually being the reason why you're feeling sick, made him feel uneasy. "If it's about me being here then I-" "Shut up." You looked at him confused and didn't know what to do now. After drying your face with a towel, you watched Kid carefully as he approached you. "What are you doing?" "Stop talking.", he commanded and took a deep breath when he stopped right in front of you. His arms wrapped around you as well as his one metal arm allowed. But his flesh arm pulled you closer to him and kissed your head. "I am sorry for causing you pain. This is all my fault.. A little bit of yours too but mostly mine.", he whispered because he was more than just sure that Bella and Heat's girlfriend were listening on the other side of the door. "What has gotten into you? Are you drunk? You do remember that you broke up, right?", you frowned but didn't move away. Your cheek rested on his chest but you didn't hug him back. "(Y/N).. please forgive me. I was a dick. You can do anything to me.. hit me, scream at me, I don't care. Just please be mine again.", he mumbled against your skin, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Tears were building up in your eyes and you hated yourself for it because you didn't know why you became such a crybaby. "Are you sure about that? I don't want you to hate me!" "I could never hate you.." "But something is going on with us and I don't want this.. I want it to be like before.", tears were running down your cheek and you tried to wipe them away but new ones were rolling down right after.

"It will be.. after our child is born.", he kissed your head once more and waited for your reaction. "Wait... what?", you froze and sniffed against his chest. When you looked up, your eyes met his' and you didn't talk for a few minutes. Then it hit you. It suddenly all made sense. "I.. I am pregnant..", you took a deep breath and couldn't believe it. There was nothing in this world that could have prepared you for this moment. But you and Kid are going to be parents. You two didn't have a bad relationship. You were just too emotional and Kid wasn't used to it, which is why you both started fighting all the time. You weren't quite sure if knowing this fact would change anything in the next few months but you felt better. "We are going to have a child..", tears were rolling down your cheeks again and your heart was beating fast because of how excited you were. "Yea.. I would celebrate this with a kiss but you just threw up.. Disgusting.", Kid shook his head and pulled you tight to him again, lifting you up softly. "Also, I won't change a single diaper. Telling you right away." "I will squeeze a giant baby out of your favorite part of me. You don't have a say in that.", you chuckled and shook your head.

"Did you just laugh? I haven't heard that in weeks. Sounds like make-up sex to me.", Kid smirked and let you down on the bathroom sink, already ripping off your clothes. "I guess Daddy has a new meaning for you now?", you teased him a little and had to laugh at how he suddenly cringed. "Add this to the forbidden words in the bedroom."

[fairyoftbz]

Retrouvailles | l. hyunjae

💐 pairing: florist!hyunjae x fem!reader  💐 genre: cliché fluff 💐 word count: 2.6k 💐 tw: i think i swore once or twice? 💐 synopsis: you are back in your hometown after living in paris for years with your family and a special encounter won’t make you regret your decision. 💐 requested: yes from kyu! i hope you’ll like it!! 💌 💐 a/n: i am so sorry but i absolutely love writing for florist!au, i promise it’s the last one ! (of this series) constructive feedback is always appreciated!!

╰☆☆☆☆╮

Looking around you as you got off the bus, you scoffed in utter shock as this neighbourhood hadn’t changed at all, even if you left eight years ago. All the shops and cafes remained the same, just two new ones got added to the ones that you always found welcoming and cute.

You got a weird sensations when you came back from school a few years ago, your parents stopping you in the entrance and asking you to follow them in the living room. Your siblings were already there, and they all looked down, your little sister on the verge of crying. You were fourteen at this time, and you had imagined the worst.

“Mom, Dad, what’s happening?” you worriedly asked, trying to catch your older brother’s gaze, but his head remained low, a visible disappointed look on his face. “It’s a bit complicated, sweetie, but Dad found a job in Europe. We are going to receive more money and live more comfortably, but we have to follow him,” your mother tried her best to explain you the situation without hurting you, but it was to no avail. You couldn’t control the tears submerging your eyes and cried uncontrollably, your mother rushing to take you in her arms.

“When are we coming back, Mom? Are we going to keep the house? I don’t want other people to live here,” your mother soothingly rubbed your back, trying to ease your pain, and she nodded. “I don’t know baby, but your grandparents are going to live here, it’s better than the house they currently have,” you pouted as you kept on crying, your mother resting a reassuring hand on the back of your head as she drew you closer, but immediately abandoned her arms as soon as your little sister started crying, rushing to hug her instead.

The move was hard, packing all your stuff had you feeling extremely sad to leave all your memories behind, unsure about the future years. The next day, you bid farewell to all your friends, hugging them tightly as you spent your last day at school trying to find solace in your friends and classmates’ presence before leaving. You cried in your best friend’s arms right in front of your mother’s car, and waved at her until she disappeared from the rear-view mirror.

Paris was a wonderful city, not quite like in the movies, but it was still charming. French was a tough language and you kind of struggled go get yourself understood because the other students didn’t really speak your native language, but with many months that turned into years of trying, you managed to now have a decent level in the language of love.

Despite your passion and admiration for this city, creating landmarks in the surrounding neighbourhoods as well as making friends were not easy tasks. However, with the help of your siblings and your parents, you had managed to make a bunch of friends, and that did you good when you didn’t have to think too much when you were talking since you were conversing in your native language.

Your time is France was amazing, you created great memories with awesome friendships, but you couldn’t help feeling nostalgic sometimes. You missed your neighbourhood, your grandparents, and your other relatives, only being able to see and talk to them via Skype or FaceTime. Years passed, and finally, at 22 years old, you decided to let your family in France, where your siblings had already constructed things with people, and come back where you grew up, where you felt like your heart truly belonged.

The shock on your face had to be very visible since some bystanders threw you a weird look as you stood stoic in the middle of the pavement. Spontaneously walking inside the kiosk that was as old as you remembered it, you warmly greeted the owner, an elderly woman that hadn’t changed a bit. Still the same hunched shoulders, long, white hair secured in a tight bun by a flower pin, her wrinkled smile was still as warm and as wise as you knew it when you were buying sweets from her.

You exchanged a few words with her, giving you a pack of the sweets you used to buy and the prepaid card you asked for. You still had your French number, so it’d cost you a kidney if you ever decided to call your relatives with it. The old woman looked extremely happy and somewhat pleased to see you, because she admitted that she got worried when you suddenly stopped passing by and buy sweets.

“And you decided to come back, how wonderful,” she said with her shaky, warm voice while handing you what you just bought. You smiled at her and nodded, eyes slightly widening when she grabbed your wrist. “If you need anything, my husband and I will be happy to help. I’m glad to see you back by us,” she said, and you felt your heart flutter. It was truly where you belonged. “Thank you, I really appreciate it,” you answered as she winked, wishing you a great day.

The fresh air welcomed you once you got out, feeling it clear your lungs from the slight more polluted air from Paris. You opened the bag of sweets and munched on a few, feeling the memories rushing back in your mind as you started wandering around the neighbourhood. You quickly texted your cousin that you were near their house, but he was probably too busy playing video games or napping, so you decided to go grab something more consistent to eat and wandered around, walking further into different areas.

The beautiful, light colours of a shop window caught your attention, not remembering its existence when you were younger. You got near the window and observed inside, discovering a jungle of beautiful flowers arranged by species. A manly back was working behind the checkout, assembling a bouquet of what seemed to be roses. You were tempted to go inside the shop to know more about this new place, but you quickly hid from the window when the man turned around. His face looked familiar, a tingling sensation appearing in your stomach as you tried to remember him. You knew him from somewhere, you were sure of it, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

The young man inside the shop slightly frowned as he saw someone suddenly disappearing from the window, the hems of their long brown coat lingering in his gaze. He slightly shrugged with a smile and petted the cat at his feet, who was demanding cuddles and attention. His hands were occupied with the order he had just finished preparing and he wrapped the flowers in some brown paper craft before placing it in the back office, where all the other orders were ready to get delivered by his co-worker Juyeon. He finished his cup of now cold coffee that was forgotten on the main counter, hearing the bell above the door chime.

Much to his great disappointment, it wasn’t the young lady that vanished before his eyes, it was Juyeon’s mother, who was here to pick up flowers for his sick grandmother. Hyunjae hid his dismay behind a warm smile, quickly pacing back and forth to give her the bouquet and bank her total.

A middle-aged woman walking out of the shop looked at you from the side as you still hid, tugging on your lower lip, rummaging your mind in order to find who this man was. You were getting frustrated as you stomped the floor with your foot, getting tired of your brain playing tricks on you as you were sure that you knew this man.

“Fuck it, I’m going in,” you said as you pushed the door open, the intense smell of flowers and pollen attacking your nostrils. It smelt really nice and welcoming, but your allergies said otherwise. 

You sneezed once, twice, and one last time before you could properly greet the man in front of you. He looked as curious as you were, he must have seen you since you weren’t the best at hiding.

“Welcome to the Butterfly flower shop, how can I help you?” the voice of the man sending a nice wave of chill down your spine, feeling yourself smile at who seemed to be the owner of the shop. “Hello, I’m just going to look around for a while,” you said while gesturing to all the flowers around you, sniffling to try and hold a sneeze in, but it didn’t help at all. It actually did the exact opposite that you had wished.

Hyunjae empathically smiled as you kept on sneezing, trying his best not to vocal how cute you were when the pollen seized your entire nostrils. You apologised profusely, mentally cursing yourself for being so curious. Maybe, just maybe, you should have stayed outside and admire him from afar, you wouldn’t be embarrassing yourself just like you were doing right now. But it was so tempting, you had to take a look. He was nice enough to hand you a pack of tissues, which you gladly took with a nod.

“I’ll be in the back office for a minute, don’t hesitate to ask me if you need any help,” he said with a warm smile and you nodded, holding a tissue to your face. “I appreciate it, thank you,” you answered as you started looking around the shop. All the flowers were beautiful, it was really tempting to just buy one of each without even caring about the prices. Since this was impossible, your eyes landed on some daisies, whose petals looked really nice and healthy. You felt bad to have made your choice just a few seconds after the man left for the back office, so you decided to wait for a bit.

Yet, another bad idea. Your nose felt ticklish, no matter how hard you rubbed your finger under it, it only became worse.

“Hum excuse me?” you politely said, and the man reappeared almost instantly, close to scaring you. His whole face lit up just with a smile, and you felt your heart skip a beat at the sight. Staring at him for a few seconds, mouth slightly agape as you detailed his face, his smile and manners hitting you like a truck.

This man was none other than Hyunjae, the young boy you had a crush on during the late years of middle school, right before you left for France. He grew up so much, yet his facial features had barely changed, they only matured. His smile was the thing that made you fall for him, his personality and physical features not helping the hopeless romantic that you were. You barely talked to him when you were younger, only when you were assigned in groups with him since he always hung out with the athletes and dancers, a group that you were dying to join but never did. Hyunjae was an incredible dancer, always performing for the school team and even outside.

“Ma’am? Are you okay?” you heard his voice bringing you back to reality, feeling embarrassment invading your body as you’ve probably been staring at him for long, way too long to not be weird. “I’m-I’m sorry. Can I have a bouquet of those daisies over there, please?” you asked, and he nodded. “Sure thing,” walking around the counter, you followed him to the said daisies, the man gathering a good portion of his stock. Your eyes widened a bit but didn’t dare to say anything, only to follow him back to the counter.

“Are you from here? My usual customers are my acquaintances or the people living in the neighbourhood,” his voice trailed as he arranged the flowers, briefly looking at you with a smile before busying his hands in the plants again. “I was actually born and raised here, but I had to follow my father abroad for his job,” you said while delicately touching the petals of a peony right next to your head. Hyunjae’s hands stopped, and he looked up, eyes going wide. “You are from here? Where in the neighbourhood?” “I grew up in the house right at the corner of the street, the beige one with the burgundy wooden shutters and the garden.” “Hold on. Y/N?” his voice sounded so light-hearted as his eyebrows raised in shock. It was his turn to look at you with a surprised look on his face, his mouth stretching in a wide smile.

You offered him a smile and you fell in a comfortable silence. Thousands of questions were trotting in your head, dying to ask the other, but you were both trying to find a topic that didn’t sound too curious and invading. And it was hard because you both became suddenly very shy, your attention focusing on the flowers. It was normal for you, but Hyunjae wasn’t the type of guy to get intimidated this easily.

“So-” you both said at the same time and chuckled together, the florist gesturing you to go first. “No, no, go ahead.” “So you decided to finally come back? I understand if you missed this town, I would too,” he said and you smiled, approving his words. “I was too tired from France, plus I missed my family that stayed here. I just wanted to pay them a visit and maybe stay over until I find another place to stay on my own,” you explained while observing your former crush wrapping the flowers you had chosen. 

He secured them in the same crafted paper he did for the previous bouquet, placing it on the counter closer to you. Handing him your credit card, you stayed with your hand hanging in the void, Hyunjae typing something on the cash register. He religiously ignored your card and handed you the bouquet, giving you the brightest smile he could.

“Take this as a gift to welcome you back in town,” he said and your eyes widened, hand slowly moving away. “I can’t accept this,” you said, suddenly feeling nervous. Hyunjae encouraged you to take the flowers by placing them right under your nose with a smirk, tickling your nose. “Please do. Welcome back in town, Y/N,” he said as he noticed some fallen petals stuck on his dark green apron, wiping them away before offering you a smile. 

You took the flowers away from your face and sheepishly smiled, thanking him for his generosity.

“Thank you, really,” you said with a shy voice, struggling to look at him in the eyes. He shook his head, indicating you that it was nothing, and he cleared the counter. “Have a lovely day, Hyunjae. It was good to meet you again,” you said as you walked to the door, hand on the knob. “Wait Y/N- would you like to get some coffee sometimes? I’d love to hear about your time in France and… get to know you a bit better and make up for lost time?” His offer wasn’t something you had expected, but who were you to refuse getting closer to your former crush. 

This random encounter with him had your heart fluttering like it did when you watched him perform in front of the entire school a few years ago, when you were still a young teenager hopelessly in love. It was hammering in your chest, warmth travelling in your entire body as a radiant smile appeared on your face.

“I’d love to.” You said with a smile as you walked back to the counter, only to take the business card he was handing you. Your eyes landed on the black ink scratching the phone numbers, only to find another one messily written at the top of the small card. You thanked him and walked through the front door, waving at him with a smile as you walked away, clutching the piece of paper tightly in your palm, excited of what this reunion was going to offer you.

__

╰☆☆ Les retrouvailles nous font rappeler de vieilles histoires, mais elles consentent également à en créer de nouvelles. ☆☆╮

[linked-heroes]

A silly question! Since you mention that you studied to be a Patisserie, Right? What do you think The Chain's favourite treats would be? Or from more and less likely to have a sweet tooth.

Bonus: Reader purposely gives a tiny cup of sugar water to Hyrule. He finds it funny and will take very small sips just to amuse you!

I did! I graduated back in December of 2016! (*internal screams of wtf where did the time go*) this is hard tho because there are so many types of pastries and the like out there and all vary in taste and sweetness etc. I only know/recall what I’ve done and like the most. So I am a little limited in my options for each link. But I’ll give it my best shot

Now, let’s say the laws of many things don’t exist, and that they all have access to the same types of pastries and sweets that we do in this day and age:

Time I can see liking for natural fresh things. He grew up in the forest where I’m sure they had fruits and vegetables and fresh ingredients. He also probably never had sugary sweets and candy until he left the forest. And when he did, I see him going hog wild and overeating candy until he’s absolutely sick of it. So sick of it that it’s a long time before he eats anything sweet. He likes subtle, gentle types of sweet, so I picture his favorite treat being a fruit tart. Creamy, delicate and smooth but sweet from the fruit, even sharp or tangy depending on what fruit is used.

Warriors i think doesn’t care for sweet as much either. And with his busy workload (especially during the war) coffee was his friend. So I think his preferred dessert is tiramisu. It’s smooth and creamy, spongy cake, subtle sweet, and bitter coffee flavor altogether.

(At this point I lost my thoughts for explanations for the rest mostly and motivation got kicked by other ideas. So sorry for the shorter answers for the others)

Legend would like cheesecake I think. It’s a rare dessert in Hyrule. So I think he was able to try some while out adventuring in another country.

Twilight obviously likes pumpkin pie (or any pumpkin dessert really)

Sky would like cake I think. A common dessert that can be simple or complex in its flavors and ingredients.

Four eats cinnamon rolls…..he’s a cannibal.

Wild likes tarts. Especially his. He can make many kinds of desserts, but so far his favorite is tarts. Because they can be any kind of tart and filling. As savory or sweet (or not so sweet) as he would like.

Wind adores cookies. Mainly his grandmas cookies. No one makes them like hers.

Hyrule, well he’s a fairy. And they love sugar. So our fairy child has the biggest sweet tooth ever. Unfortunately his hyrule lacks resources and is failing, so most crops and items are hard to get. Especially for exotic things to make desserts and candy. So when he can eat sweets? He goes a little crazy. Loves trying new desserts and is determined to eat every dessert at least once. Sugary things that he can get easy access to tho are fruit juices and sugar water. The boy has even straight up eaten sugar cubes (he loves them so much! Probably one of his favorite sweets out there actually!) but if I had to say his favorite dessert that he’s been able to have?? It would be brownies. Gooey, chocolatey, warm delicious brownies

I’m so bummed and sorry my brain failed on me for more details for some of the links. But I hope you like this anon!

Also, I love that bonus. He would so do that and it’s adorable

[memory-mortis]

Little Kitten (Dio x Reader)

Why hello there! First of all, I have no clue what this is. It’s not smut. It’s not fluff either. It’s just... huh. A random idea I had like 2 days ago. Secondly, to all of you who sent me a request months ago, I am really sorry. Don’t worry! I am still working on them! But it’s taking really long because I just went through a small writing block and I was feeling a little depressed. I will finish them one day, it just might take a while. Anyway, without further ado, let’s get this bread

WC: 1.8k TW: blood, the usual Dio stuff

So this was supposed to be a self-insert, which means the reader was originally meant to be female, but now that I think about it, it could be perceived as gender neutral too. The reader wears dresses, but fuck it, boys and nonbinary folk can wear dresses too, fuck gender stereotypes amirite?

This one contains NSFW themes. 18+ only.

“My, my… what do we have here? A soaked little kitten.”

Those were the first words he ever spoke to you. They came within a fever dream, his voice coated in honey and silk, reaching for the deepest desires hidden within your soul. He clenched your heart in his fists, dug his sharp nails into its tender meat. Figuratively speaking, of course.

Lord Dio had found you on the side of the road, soaked from the rain, beaten and bruised. You were trembling, barely conscious, and the memory of him walking towards you, his steps reminiscent of those of a proud lion, was hazy and blurry. It is safe to say that you were very close to death, and you would’ve had perished had it not been for him. You couldn’t tell to this day why he chose you out of all the poor women lying on the street, but he took a liking to you and while many men and women came to his mansion only to never return home alive, he kept you by his side and even fed you. In return… he made you his little play toy. You didn’t mind. You had nowhere else to go, and no one had treated you as respectfully as Lord Dio. He knew your boundaries, and whenever you asked him to stop, he stopped, and that is exactly why you chose to accompany him to Egypt.

The full moon hung low over the streets of Cairo littered with dots of light created by street lamps. A cool breeze of fresh air poured in through the open window which you stood by, your eyes pinned to the view of the city that opened in front of you. You did not feel cold thanks to the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Lord Dio would freak out if you didn’t take care of yourself and that was the last thing you wanted. A sigh escaped your lips in the form of a cloud of mist. While the air in Egypt was hot and dry in the day, once the sun set, the temperatures dropped close to the freezing point. You admired your master for being able to sleep in the scorching heat. You had tried to adjust your own sleep schedule to match his but it was always just too hot to sleep and so you had to settle for seeing him late at night and early in the morning, despite how lonely that sometimes made you feel.

You started reminiscing of your first days spent with Lord Dio. The very first night he took you home you were sick and tired, so you didn’t protest when he cleaned you up and helped you get dressed into warm new clothes. Besides, from the aura he gave off, you knew you couldn’t escape even if you tried to.

“My poor little kitten, malnourished, your cheeks are so thin and your eyes so sunken,” he purred into your ear as he washed your hair. You were so exhausted you leaned back into his touch and didn’t move when he ran his hand over your throat. Dio was pleasantly surprised by your reaction, you could practically feel the smirk growing on his face as he leaned over to smell your neck. “So compliant, so submissive,” he whispered as he stroked your cheek. “I think I’ll keep you around.”

You were not a fool. You knew that Dio wasn’t human from first laying your eyes on him. Everything about him was so surreal, so ethereal, he was inhumanly gorgeous and radiated the glow of a supernatural being. You knew he was a vampire. It wasn’t your first time spotting one. But you didn’t mind. You didn’t care if you were just another meal for him. You fell prey not only to his predatory instincts and tendencies, but also to his otherworldly beauty. You craved every single look of those sharp, golden eyes, you needed his cold touch. His attention was a drug that kept you up at night.

To your surprise, it took weeks for him to show any interest in drinking your blood. In fact, he hadn’t shown himself to you at all in the first few days. Each morning, you would wake up to eggs, bread and tea on your nightstand, and every evening you would find dinner on the floor in front of your door. Lord Dio was elusive, nowhere to be found no matter how hard you tried. Sometimes you would run to the door upon hearing footsteps, only to find a completely empty hallway, and for a moment you thought that you were crazy or living in a haunted mansion.

But then… you found him. He was sitting in an armchair in the library, an open book in his lap. Despite having his back to you, he registered your presence.

“Hello there, kitten,” he greeted you without even looking at you. You shuddered at the sound of his voice, just as soft and alluring as you had remembered. Finally, he closed the book in his lap and set it aside, stood up and looked at you. The view was breathtaking. He gazed down at you hungrily, a couple of golden locks falling into his face. He had no shirt on and his broad chest and toned abs were clearly visible to you. You noticed the scar all around his neck and you would’ve questioned him about it had it not been for sudden anxiety rising within you. Before you could notice, he was behind you, brushing your hair aside to take a good look at your shoulder. “Hmm, you’ve put on some weight. Good, good… now you don’t look like a walking skeleton anymore. Tell me, kitten, what’s your name?” he asked, his voice low and somewhat comforting. You immediately felt at ease, as if intoxicated by his presence alone. “Y/n,” you answered obediently. “Y/n…” he rolled your name over his tongue as if savoring it, engraving it into his memory. “What a pretty name for a pretty little creature. Say, y/n,” he spoke in a low voice, his lips close to your ear. You couldn’t help but lean your head towards him in a trance, drunk from the vibes he radiated. You couldn’t explain it if you tried, but something about him made everything feel right. “What do you say about becoming my personal plaything? I’ll treat you well. I’ll take you everywhere I go.” You nodded all too furiously, which made him let out a chuckle that took your breath away. “Good, good,” he growled excitedly and in a matter of seconds he was gone and back in his armchair. “Go prepare yourself. There are some dresses in your closet. We’re dining together tonight.” You didn’t waste any more time.

Lord Dio didn’t need to eat. He mostly just watched you while drinking his wine. Or blood. Who knew what he held in that wine glass. At first you felt really awkward. The food was really good, but you didn’t like people watching you gobbling down on it. Eventually, however, you got used to it. Every now and then you would look up and see him either reading or smirking to himself. Sometimes, his eyes would linger on the lower parts of your body. The dresses he would bring you every now and then were very pretty, you almost felt like a doll in them. You rather didn’t ask where he got them. But what was even more exciting was him getting you out of them.

The first time, he was surprisingly gentle. You could tell that he wanted to ravish you right then and there, but he held back, just for you. You were his little kitten. He couldn’t let himself break you, at least not so soon. It was a difficult task, but he did his best to make it a pleasurable experience. Still, to this day, your favourite nights were those where he let himself slip. The ones where he would rip your dress to shreds, push your face deep into the sheets of his huge bed and tear your body apart. Every thrust of his hips felt like the first beat of your heart, every “little kitten” whispered in your ear brought you alive, the real you that was not afraid to scream. You didn’t care if Vanilla Ice, or anyone else for that matter, heard you. It was hard to do so with Dio’s cock stretching your insides, the spell he cast upon you made it hard to form a coherent thought during those times.

He loved to hear your moans, he loved the way you called out his name. It gave him an incredible power trip, and his satisfaction brought even more pleasure to you. He never even tried to tone you down. He liked it loud.

You ran your fingers over the laced choker around your neck. It was one of his many gifts, and by far your favourite. Because it was his favourite too. It quickly became a necessity to wear these. After all, you didn’t want to walk around with the bite marks on your throat exposed. He didn’t drink too much. Every now and then he would get excited during sex and drink more than usual, which caused you to be dizzy, but you didn’t mind this either. In fact, it became something of a pleasant ritual. Your brain connected the dots between drinking blood and breeding and after a while you were conditioned so well your core would throb if he so much as licked the wound.

You’d seen the corpses of all the women and men he would drain of all blood. Something about you was special, your blood was different. He said it was like a juicy cherry on top of a cake. That’s one of the reasons why he kept you around. That, and the fact that you didn’t really question his decisions.

“You’re up late,” lord Dio’s voice echoed from behind you and you didn’t even flinch when he put his hands on your shoulders. “Can’t sleep,” you mumbled. “Oh? What’s keeping you up? Need to burn some energy?” He stroked your cheek with his knuckles and you shuddered at his touch. He froze when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes, turned you around and lifted your chin up to take a proper look at your face. “What’s wrong, kitten? What’s making you shed those tears? Did someone try to hurt you?” You shook your head in response. “They’re getting close, aren’t they?” Though it was a question, your tone made it sound more like a statement. Dio went silent for a moment. “Are you worried about me, Dio?” he said with a growing smirk. “I am the greatest being alive. They can try to get as close as they want, there is no way they could ever lay a hand on me.”

You sniffled and did your best to stop your quivering lip. Dio looked at you like you were a fragile little flower, wiped the tear on your cheek away with his thumb and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Come, let’s go to the bedroom, little kitten. It seems that you need to be reminded of how powerful I am.”

[seeds-and-sins]

Stuck in the Bunker

Pairing: John Seed x Reader

Rating: M (SMUT!! & Language)

Note: This particular prompt can be applied to other Seed siblings as well, but only one per Seed for the sake of originality. An Anon requested this to be a smut so here it is.

Description: You were only dating John Seed for a few weeks before you both were shoved into a bunker and forced to live together for seven years.

   It had been three long weeks so far. Three weeks ago, you were shoved into a bunker with your boyfriend of a month and expected to survive for the next seven years. Three weeks was already too long, you could feel your sanity slipping and it wasn't because of the environment. The bunker was very nicely stocked, with an array of non-perishable foods that John enjoyed, along with a whole wine cellar. It had a king size bed, a seating area with a television and some movies, running water, electricity, a kitchen and a small side laundry room. You were grateful to be in a comfortable bunker, roomy, the equivalent to a five star suite, but there was one problem: John Seed.

      Before the collapse, you would see John every other day, or every two days. The both of you had only been dating for a month so neither of you had really decided on something more serious quite yet. You enjoyed John's company, you were addicted to it, in fact, but then you were shoved into a closed space with him, with nowhere to go. The first few days the both of you tried to reach out to his brothers and members of the project. You both busied yourselves with puzzles, and movies, and well, each other. You cuddled a lot, made out with one another, still yet to have taken the affection elsewhere, but even so you didn't mind the close proximity in the beginning. 

   Once the puzzles were finished, the movies all watched, contact with the others made, it became extremely boring. John became all too overly affectionate, all too close, never giving you a break, even when you went to bathroom. You weren't sure if it was because that was how he handled his boredom, or if it was because you were starting to grow sick of him, either way the two of you got too close for your comfort. 

You had seen each other naked, shared clothes, ate together, slept in the same bed together, talked to each other nonstop. You just wanted one thing that was all your own. It was driving you up the wall. John would read a book one second, then decide the next second he was going to suffocate you in his embrace. His advances towards you were always unpredictable. While you were eating, taking a shower, sitting in meditation, the guy never gave you a second to breathe. You had made some complaints, light ones at that, too afraid to outright tell him that you just didn't want to be in this bunker with him anymore. You would run out into the radioactive apocalypse to evade him, or at least, you were getting to that point. 

   You figured entering the bunker would change you both, but not quite like this. When John was relaxed and he didn't have Joseph hovering over his shoulder, he was soft and polite and gracious and gentle. While the John you had met before this whole collapse, before even dating him, was insistent, confident, gleaming with pride. That John was gone as soon the only person he had around to judge him was you, especially because he thought you wouldn't judge him. His mask had been lifted, and you were glad that he felt comfortable enough with you to remove it, but he was just TOOO comfy with you. Almost completely forgetting that you still both knew hardly anything about each other aside from minor things like interests and habits and the like.

    You sighed in aggravation, hitting another bout of restlessness, as you tried to will yourself asleep. You shifted over, pulling the covers down, almost kicking them to the foot of the bed as you tried to find a more effortless position. You heard a grunt from behind you, and then an arm snaked out over your waist. Your fists clenched as you felt John's breath at your ear, snoring away behind you like it was nothing. Great! Now you were trapped, you grabbed his forearm and roughly tried to pry it from around you. 

"John..." You hissed, feeling your patience wane under his heat. It was too much! He was like a furnace and you felt like you were going to explode. "JOHN!" You growled out fiercely, his snores settled and he took a deep breath, lifting his arm off of you sleepily. You jumped up from the bed, and you turned to face him with crazy wide eyes. He rubbed his own tired gaze, propping himself up on an elbow. 

"(Y/N), my dove, are you okay?" You started to pace, it must had been quite the sight, considering you were wearing nothing but a pair of underwear and one of his Georgia state t-shirts. It bunched up around your waist as you stormed back and forth. 

"I am fucking done, John!" His eyes narrowed, still lethargic from being woken and he sat up fully. 

"What are you talking about?" You weaved your fingers through your air, trying to steady your breathes. 

"You are always on me, against me, touching me, can't you just fucking stop! And you breath on me, oh my fucking gosh, I can't take it anymore! Just give me some fucking space!" He washed a palm over his face, then threw the covers off and swung his feet over the bed. The tattoos rippling across the slopes of his curves, his muscles, his toned abdomen, creeping down with the growing chest hair under his boxers. At the beginning of this, you wanted to fuck his brains out, especially with no Joseph to tell John ‘no’. Yet still, John practiced Joseph's rules even within the confines of this bunker, so you gave up that wish. 

"Sweetheart, I still don't understand. I thought you liked my affections." The broken and tired gaze he sent you, caused your own temper to soften, only slightly. 

"John, I just-" You sighed, wishing you didn't have to say it. "Maybe we should designate our own spaces, start giving each other some distance." He stood up, eyebrows furrowing and he stroked one hand through the loose black ungelled strands of hair. 

"(Y/N), we live in the same bunker together." He snorted coldly. "We will be for the next seven years, what are you going on about?" You could tell he was starting to get annoyed, a cranky and annoyed John did not bode well for you.

"Did you ever stop to think how I felt about all this?!" You crossed your arms, facing your back to him. "I don't want to be in a bunker with you anymore, John! You are too clingy." You said it, you didn't want to, but it just came out. You were exhausted, oversensitive, you just wanted a breath of fresh air, away from him.

"Well, I am fucking sorry I didn't get the memo. You should be thankful I saved your life." You heard him growl out behind you, he sounded a lot more like the more unhinged side of John before all of this, the side of that John that you didn't want to resurface. You turned around, now moving out of a fury and rage you didn't know existed. You pointed an accusing finger at him, feeling the snarl behind your teeth. 

"We hadn't even been together that long before you thought it was a good idea to lock us in a bunker together for seven years!" His expression wrinkled in irritation and he crossed his arms, considering you with a glare. "You're suffocating me."

"Oh please, (Y/N), you are acting like a brat! If you refuse to accept my love, go sleep on the couch!" He pointed to the steel door frame that lead into a hall, crossing out into the living room. 

"It's not about accepting, or not accepting, your love, John! You won't stop touching me! I can't do anything without-" He held his hand up at you, halting your words.

    You woke up several hours later to the sound of clinking in the kitchen. When you sat up, peaking over the backrest of the couch, it was John moving about in the kitchen. You felt your body ache as you rose up from the cushions, the couch was a lot more uncomfortable than you had originally expected. You dragged your feet into the kitchen and stood against a counter, watching John move around with a droopy and sad gaze. You knew you should apologize for what you said, you could have done a lot better at explaining your feelings and instead you just reached your limit, exploding at the only person you had to confide in.

"I don't want to fucking hear it." He stomped back over to the king size bed, grabbing a pillow on your side and tossing it in your direction. "I am going back to bed!" You caught the pillow, lips opening to word some sort of retort, but you knew the conversation was done. You treaded into the living room, tossing the feather pillow onto the head of the love seat, and dropping down onto the worn leather. You turned to face the ceiling and stared up at it for a moment, before letting the exhaustion droop in your eyes. Sleep came to you, but it was just as unsettling, if not worse, than what you would have had in the bed. 

  John poured himself a cup of coffee, he then faced you and sipped from its contents. His eyes set in a glare, he was still angry with you. You didn't blame him, you should feel guilty. The two of you were stuck in this bunker with nothing but each other, and you could understand why he'd want to break through that barrier that had always been between you both before. 

"Jo-" 

"Oatmeal is on the table." He interrupted, then patted around you and into the living room. 

"Th-Thank you," And you couldn't help but desperately track him for a moment. He sat on the couch, placed his coffee down, grabbed his book from the table. "Hey John, I just-"

"There is no need, (Y/N)." He said coolly, not looking up to you, now skimming the words on the page he had opened to. "I understand."

"Oh," You weren't sure if you should feel relieved, or concerned. He wasn't giving you the silent treatment, akin to one of his tantrums from before when his men would fuck up. "Well, um, it's just a space thing, ya'know?" He hummed in response, flicking his fingers at the edge of the page as he flipped it. You took a deep breath, then moved back into the kitchen, where your bowl of oatmeal was sitting on the counter. It was kind of him to think of you, even if he was holding onto what you said before. He couldn't be upset with you forever. Or so you thought.

   A whole week certainly felt like forever, a whole week of him ignoring you, evading you, sleeping away from you, and basically not even so much as giving you a hug. You were starting to truly see the error of your ways. You missed John, and he was right there in front of you, you could just grab him if you wanted. You tried to crack jokes, he wouldn't so much as smile. You even tried sitting right next to him and cuddling only for him to scoot away. You really hurt him, hurt him more than you could understand. For that whole week, your thoughts on the matter did not pick a side. You were either trying to give yourself a boost in the sense that he was in the wrong. You shouldn't have to give your entire soul to him, jeopardize what made you comfortable, so that he could be happy. On the other hand, you knew your approach to the situation was selfish and unreasonable. You basically snapped at him, all because he wanted to hold you in his arms. If you were in his shoes, you would be upset too. 

    It was all closing in on you, making you itch inside. Surviving in the bunker physically was no issue in comparison to the mental effects it was forcing on your brain. What were you supposed to do? You couldn't just open the doors and run outside, you couldn't hide in the broom closet. You felt trapped, and now on top of that, you didn't have John to tell you it was going to be okay. You should have been more accepting of the situation, it was much better to have someone than no one. And you did love John, you were just getting a little stir crazy. You didn't know what to do with yourself. 

    After several hours of parading yourself around, you had found yourself in the wine cellar. John and you rarely went down there. It was a lot mustier than the bunker and neither of you liked the atmosphere so much as to withstand it long enough to grab a bottle or two. Desperate times called for desperate measures though, you needed something to help ease the loneliness, the depression, the anxiety creeping up on you. You carried it into the living room, where you placed it on the table, then shuffled over to the movie box. John was sitting on the couch, reading another new book. You didn't know where the heck he was getting them from, but he must have had a stash. You felt him watch you as you ran through the movies, all of them the both of you had watched, but some good enough to watch again. You picked out Titanic and then popped it into the Blu-ray player, then returned back to the couch. 

  Why did you have to pick such a sad movie?! You noticed John started watching it to, granted you were the only one drinking from the wine bottle, but at least you weren't watching this alone. Soon, halfway through the movie, halfway through the bottle, halfway through these incessant feelings you were having; you slumped over, bare feet facing John and you started to cry. You knew it was a collection of things, not just the movie, but the fact that John wasn't talking to you, the fact that you were stuck in a bunker, the fact that you were scared out of your mind about what was going to happen next. John placed his hand on your foot, caressing over your calves and back. 

"(Y/N), sweetheart, talk to me." His voice was pleading, and when you looked up from your wet and red face being in the leather, he was crying too. Tears were streaming down his cheeks reflecting in what little light shone from the TV screen. You sniffled, wiping the tears on your cheeks away and sitting up, closer to him. 

"I am so lost, John. I feel stuck, and..." You were in turmoil. You felt like death would have been a lesser fate, but now you knew it wasn't because of John, it was because you couldn't handle this. 

"Shhh, come here, little dove." He held his arms open, and you didn't hesitate in gravitating towards his embrace. You shouldn't have complained, you missed his touch. Your palms splayed out over his chest and you rested your head under his chin. Sobs wracked through you as his fingers caressed through your hair, his lips pressed to your forehead. "It's okay, I'm here."

"Oh, John..." You scooted onto his lap, begging for more, craving all of his affections, all of his attention. You pressed an open mouthed kiss to his lips, taking him by surprise. He grabbed your shoulders to draw you back, a nervous snort floating from him. 

"(Y/N), dove..." You shushed him, pushing forward through his protests and pressing your lips to his again. His eyebrows furrowed, eyelids fluttering shut and his hand moved up from your shoulder to your cheek. His lips parted to accept your tongue, beginning a dance of dominance. You could feel him hardening between your legs, and you wanted all of him, more of him, finally. You pushed your pelvis further, your arms settling around his neck, you wanted to be as close to him as possible. John's other hand rested on your hip, grip tightening as you bit his bottom lip. The two of you had found yourselves in this position, many times before since you met. Mainly because both of you were bored, or horny. However, no matter how far the two of you got, you had never had sex. "(Y/N), stop." He muttered in between your intense battle of tongues.

"What?" You breathed out, wiping at your still wet face. 

"Enough." He grabbed your hips and tried to lift you off of him.

"No..." You whimpered, "Please, no. I want to stay." He met her gaze, pausing in his movements. You grabbed either side of his face, thumbs caressing his cheeks. "Please." His lips parted and he cocked his head, a smirk finding its way to his lips. 

"Oh (Y/N), but I thought you didn't want me touching you." He teased, and it sounded like something the charming, cunning John would say. Not lovey dovey, not overly soft, but John being that needy, attention seeking asshole that you loved so much. You couldn't help but return the smugness with your own amused smile, even through the wetness on your face. Your fingers caressed from around his neck to his pectorals. 

"I shouldn't have said that." You stated, he released a dark chuckle, then brushed a few strands of your hair behind your ear. 

"I might consider forgiving you..." He seductively ground out, then his arms harshly wrapped under your waist and he sat forward. His face was an inch from yours, your eyes wide at the feeling of him against your most sensitive spot. "With some convincing." You were shocked, wondering what he meant. You snapped forward to catch his lips, but his finger caught between you and he sat back again. "Well..." He cleared his throat, grinning like the Cheshire cat who knew all too much. "Convince me." You gulped, lips parting as you processed his words, as the thought of what he was insinuating charged through your mind with vigor. 

"D-Do you mean-"

"Oh Darling, I know what I mean. Now get to it." You scrambled down to sit on the floor, his knees parted and your eyes widened at the visible lump showing through his grey sweatpants. "You've done this before, (Y/N). I know your sin, stop acting so innocent." Your jaw dropped open, he hunched forward, his face only an inch from your own. His hand forcefully grabbed your chin and he brought you into an aggressive kiss. He had full control, taking you by surprise, where his tongue slid so smoothly against your own and his teeth bit hard at your bottom lip as he drew away. Your eyelids sank with desire, the sting of his teeth grinding along your lip as he withdrew from you, leaning back lazily into his leather throne. "(Y/N)..." He breathed out, that smirk still sitting on his lips. "Do you want to convince me?" You ran your hands up from his knees towards the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Yes." His breath hitched, smirk falling into a dazed stare as your fingers tenderly swept under the band. He adjusted himself to sit up slightly for you as you shuffled his pants down, gasping when his cock sprung up from beneath the retreating fabric. It was engorged, precum leaking from the top, a red tip, leading down to a nestle of black hair sitting above the base. John's fingers gripped the leather as you eagerly grasped his cock your hands, the desire to have him inside of you growing with your own warmth. It had been so long since you had sex with anyone, and now you were finally about to have sex with your boyfriend. You pressed your thumb over the tip, collecting the precum with the digit and then smiling at the way he breathed out harder from the action.

"Don't think I don't know your sin either, John." You leaned forward, pressing the surface of your lips to the tip. “I see the way you look at me when I am changing...” Your lips parting against his skin, words whispering and teasing at his member. “I know the way you hold me at night, the way you flee in the morning.”

“What can I say, dove? You’re sin.” His teeth clenched with a hiss when your lips fully engulfed his cock, throat relaxing around his length and slowly sliding down. His fingers sunk into your hair subconsciously, grasping at the greasy strands, back nearly arching up with the lift of his hips. 

Before entering the bunker, you biggest worry was hygiene, but John and you had no issues taking very good care of yourselves in that regard. His cock tasted slightly salty, but fairly clean, your nose grazing the black nestle of hair above his member as your mouth moved up and down. His hand started to guide you, your jaw already tired from the movement. 

After a few more strokes, your tongue languidly laying his member flush to its surface, a suction sound echoed as you pulled your lips away. You were about to dive in again, as enthusiastic as ever, before John stopped you. His eyelids were drooped in a daze, obviously taken aback by your apology thus far. The entire time you could tell he had been struggling to keep quiet, you weren’t sure exactly from what. Perhaps it was to keep you from knowing how good you were doing, but you could already tell. The both of you had been wanting this for a while, and truthfully, Joseph had always been in the way.

“Come here.” His voice was scratchy, deep with arousal. You gulped, the taste of him still on your tongue as you stood. You plopped down onto his hips again, his cock pressing between your legs. He wasted no time drawing you closer, his lips aggressively meeting your own, hands roaming your body down to the hem of your shorts. He twisted you both around and laid you across the couch, lips not leaving yours once as he gyrated his hips into yours. You couldn’t control the moans emanating from you, a burning desire finding itself at your core. His lips traveled downward, across your cheek towards your ear and down your jaw line. Meanwhile, his fingers tucked under the waistband of your shorts, slowly drawing them down. “Oh, the things you do to me, (Y/N).” As he continued to move down your body, your shorts were removed, legs now dangling up as he yanked them off and toss them to the side. 

“Don’t stop now, John, please.” 

“Shhh,” He hushed as he ducked forward, finger tenderly caressing the bless of your explored thighs. “I am not going anywhere.” His lips rushed to your entrance, and your entire body jolted with pleasure from the warmth of his wet tongue as it flicked at your clit. You knew he had plenty of sexual experience from before he met you, but not quite on this level. Obscene sounds carried through the room, bouncing off the metal walls of the compound. One hand grasped at what you could around you, the other finding itself into his black, slick strands.

“Oh, fuck me.”

“Gladly.” He spoke once before continuing his assault on your center. His mouth was unrelenting, and your mind entirely focused on the pleasure it brought, until you felt the prod of a finger at your entrance. Your jaw dropped open and you couldn’t help but arch up again more fiercely. He sucked harder as he finger worked its way gradually inside of you, stretching you with a second finger after you adjusted. You could feel your orgasm closing in on you, your legs began to shake with the tension and then as quickly as you were there it was gone. 

“I was so clo-” You felt like you couldn’t even breath, your chest heaving as he moved up to your lips and drunk you in again. The taste of you sitting on your tongue, mixing with the remaining taste of him. His hands gripped your hips and his own his pressed to yours with intense fervor, his swollen cock dipping itself into your wet folds, but not quite entering you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and drew him closer, meeting his hips half way. His palms slid up from your hips over your navel, your shirt bunching over his wrists as they kept moving upward. You lifted your arms above your head, and he helped shimmy the shirt off completely. He returned his attention to your lips, thumbs now teasing at your nipples, and your feet wrapped around his hips. 

For some time, you couldn’t tell how long, the both of you simply gave yourselves to the moment, immersing yourselves into one another, prolonging the touches and the kisses, the intensity and the exchanged breathes. The reminder of why they were here, why they were together, why they were stuck in a bunker. John drew away, forehead pressed tightly to yours, blue eyes imbedding themselves into your soul. He wanted to see into your eyes as he pressed his cock into your entrance, as your pussy swallowed him whole. The both of you moved with graze, with a need for an end, his cock penetrating through you with pleasure and fullness following. He whimpered against your throat, mouthing at your skin, and your nails etched marks into his back as you gave into each other’s desires.

His hips started to move more frantically with each thrust, building you back up towards the orgasm that still lingered from before. Your fingers gripped more tightly, clutching at him to continue. 

“Keep going! Please!” You begged, your voice squeaking with the cries for more. John didn’t stop, instead egged on by your pleasure, he moved fasted. One hand creeping between your bodies to flick his thumb at your clit. His words strained as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. 

“Cum for me. Cum around my cock, baby.” You were sent straight over the edge, body reeling into him as you spasmed, loud moans echoing from your lips. You hadn’t had a good orgasm in so long, and his cock gave this to you, he gave this to you. You were in a moment of awe as he continued his brutal pace, skin slapping against skin, body mixing together, the scent of sex floating through the air. John followed shortly after with a groan, lips pressing soft kisses to your flesh as his cum streamed into your pussy, sending pleasurable shivers through you.

The both of you rested there for a few breathes, again, allowing the moment to consume you. You wrapped you arms back around his neck and sighed, his cock softening inside of you.

“I love you.” Neither of you had ever said those three words before. In some fashion, something along the lines of love had been clarified. John probably wouldn’t have brought you to the bunker had he not deeply cared about you and your wellbeing. He parted from your shoulder, gaze meeting yours with an undefined emotion, one you had never seen on the face of the great John Seed. His hand cupped your cheek and a single tear stemmed from the corner of his eye, the gleam of the TV flickering in its clearness, reflecting off of the wet trail it left behind. 

“I can’t lose you. You mean so much to me.” His voice cracked as he enunciated those words through a shaky exhale. You sniffled, feeling your own tears rise.

“I am not going anywhere...” You felt the tension pull you both closer. “We are in a bunker remember?” John snorted, lips pressed to yours. You both knew, this wouldn’t be the last time you’d argue and it wouldn’t be the last time of reassurance. With seven years ahead, your relationship would be tested and the two of you were prepared for that.

“I love you too, (Y/N), more than you know.”

Return to Prompts

[the-fiction-witch]

Control P13

TV SHOW THE QUEENS GAMBIT COUPLE: BENNY WATTS X READER RATING: SEXY

I sat on a little chair watching across the department store y/n walking around the baby department, I had given up hours ago and sat down where I could still see her. she walked around with her cart, "Y/n?" I called but nothing "Y/n? Little lady?"

"yes Benny?" she calls back as she had heard me that time

"Come here little lady," I told her so she smiled and came over with her little cart "what have you got?"

"Baby stuff"

"Yeah what you've been shopping for hours?"

"I got some tiny clothes, tiny shoes, little bottles and toys" she smiled

"Okay... why my darling is everything pink?"

"Because It's a pretty colour"

"What if it's a boy?"

"Then he will like pink" I said

"But he's a boy"

"Boy's can't like pink?"

"Yeah but... if he had only pink clothes and pink stuff it's gonna get annoying for him, and what if we do have a girl and she hates pink"

"Well. what do you suggest benny?" "I know a gender-neutral colour scheme"

"Do you?" "Black and white"

"You are not dressing our baby up like a chessboard?"

"why not? He'll match the apartment"

"Benny our baby doesn't need to match the aesthetic"

"Maybe not yours. I would like the baby to fit the... chess theme that we have in the apartment and in general when we go places"

"The baby doesn't need to fit the aesthetic benny" she laughs going back to her shopping

"So you're telling me? we go to the Us championship next year and you don't want the baby to have a little black stroller and white blankets while we walk around the hotel?" I smirked as I followed her "So people think your baby is cute?"

"People will think the baby is cute if it's dressed like a chessboard, or a bunny rabbit" she giggled showing a tiny rabbit onzie

"But... if it could be in a chess colour scheme"

"Benny you dress our baby like a chess piece I am letting it thrown up on you"

"Ohh it will. I know it will."

"fine then I will make you watch down there the whole time I am in labour"

"Fine. we should probably sort out the big stuff? like a crib. a high chair. a pram. whatever those bouncy things are"

"bouncy things?"

"those things" I said pointing to them

"That's a yoga ball benny. it's not for babies" "Then why is it in the baby section?"

"It's for pregnant ladies"

"Ooh. then what is that crazy looking thing?"

"That's for getting breast milk in bottles" she laughs

"Oh yeah, your gonna start having milk come out your boobs," I said absentmindedly and she glared at me "what? you are? Ohh does that mean I can't squeeze them anymore?" "Not very hard no"

"I best make use of my time" I smiled cuddling her and grabbing her boobs

"we are in a store!" she whines pushing me away "You want a job to do?"

"Yes."

"Go find toys"

"Toys?"

"Not plushie ones, toy ones. you're smart I want baby to be smart so go find things like what you plaid with as a child"

".... who do you think I was as a child?"

"Like the smarty child playing with the brain toys?"

"No. more the evil child that went around hitting other kids with a stick. and poking dead things

"I would have liked to have known that before you impregnated me benny"

"well now you know"

"That's the kinda stuff they send kids to doctors about?"

"Ohh they did. like four times. I would bite them"

"How old were you?"

"Like three"

"Just go look for toys benny"

"Fine." I sighed giving her a kiss and going to find the toy section "and buy more than a chessboard"

"The baby has to have a chessboard. from the moment it's born"

"Yeah but we own twenty-six of them"

".... fine! I can't choose its toys, I can't dress the baby. what exactly am I involved in?"

"you did your job, it's inside me now your jobs are building baby furniture and take care of me until such time as I birth a small human" she explained "Also we should hurry I really want a crumpet"

"The sex or the food?"

"... both"

"Five minutes little lady, then we shall go home and ... rest"

"good, Ohh I also need a new lipstick while were here" she says scampering off

"Great we'll be here another six hours" I sighed

"what was that?"

"Nothing darling"

I sat at the table going though my game, trying to get some work done, while Y/n was working on setting up the corner of our apartment. I had built the crib and a couple other bits we bought and she was setting it all up putting blankets and toys around in the little places all while she stroked her babybump, I couldnt help looking up often keeping an eye on her.

I smiled resting my chin on my hand and my elbow on the table watching her across the room, She stood sorting the babies stuff folding little blankets and hugging the plushies as she sorted it all out from the shopping bags, in her little fluffy slippers, her sweet white and blue stripped thigh high socks, her little light blue dress with buttons down her chest a couple of them undone, Her large baby bump sat so perfectly even if she often had to becareful not to bump it into things where she still wasn't use to it, her hair in the sweet intense curls fresh out of her rollers, Gently humming a little tune.

"what?" she asked as she spotted me looking at her and I just shrug "Ohh you don't have something to say?" she laughs

"You look pretty" I told her

"Sure I do" she sighed

"You do." I smiled "You look sexy preganant"

"I'm a boat"

"A pretty boat"

"Benny!"

"What?"

"You shouldn't make fun of me"

"I'm not making fun of you."

"How could I ever be sexy with this... thing"

"That thing is our child"

"Still. it's not sexy to look like your trying to steal a watermelon from a supermarket"

"I still think you look sexy" I told her "I still think your sexy. I would still go crazy if you wore that little lacy nightie"

"I can't benny it doesn't fit me anymore"

"I'm sure I can find one in your infinate wardrobe something you and baby can fit in"

"I highly doubt you will find me desireable with this" she says

"I think I will"

"I bet you won't"

"I bet I will"

"Will you now?"

"I know I will" I smirked

"Fine but if I'm right then you have to do the night feedings for three months when baby comes"

"Alright, but if I'm right, then I get to snuggle with you as much as I want. and You will make me victoria sponge cupcakes."

"alright" she nods "You can finish up, and I'll meet you in the bedroom" she smiled giving my head a kiss as she walked to the bathroom.

I sat reading my book but often getting distracted watching her walk around on her huge dress usually holding her hips or her bump. "Ooh bulbs gone" she says as she clicked the ceiling lights on

"Ahh, damn thing that's the fourth one that's gone in there. I think the fitting needs changing. Or I need to ring the landlord to come look at the electric box again" I explain

"Possibly" she says going to the kitchen draw

"What are you doing?"

"Changing the light bulb?" She shurgs

"Are you?" I laughed putting my book down watching her slowly walk over she put up her arm trying so hard to reach it but honestly I don't think she could reach it when she wasn't seven months pregnant, let alone now. I held back my laughs a little watching her try before got up and did it for her

"I was about to do it" she pouted

"Of course you where little lady" I smiled giving her head a kiss and pulling her into a cuddle resting my head on hers "y/n, you are seven months pregnant little lady. You can't do everything you use to"

"Who says I can't?"

"... The doctor"

"Well what does he know"

".... Uuuuuhh alot"

"I can do it Benny I'm not some damn invalid"

"I'm not saying you are. I'm saying you need to slow down a little be careful. Your growing a human inside you you should be resting and being careful. Don't want something bad to happy do we?"

"No. I just don't like sitting around not doing anything," she whines "I have things to do"

"I know you don't. But that's why I'm here I'll take care of my lovely lady, till baby comes Iam your salve darling I'll wait on you hand and foot if you'd want me too"

"Benny" she giggled

"No I mean it. You need to rest" I told her "now you sit down I'll make you some lunch"

"Thank you" she smiled

"Your welcome" I laughed going to the fridge taking the little list I stuck today the fridge off it was a page I ripped out one of her pregnancy books about what she can and can't eat looking in the fridge and at the list trying to think of what I could make her "now... would you like a salad?"

"No" she pouts as she sat on my chair

"Would you like... cereal?"

"No"

"Would you like... mac and cheese?" I asked before I remembered as she bolted for the bathroom and I could hear her throwing up "sorry hun I forgot" I told her "I'll make you some french toast okay? That'll settle baby down"

I went and began making her french toast the way she likes it and eventually she came back "hey, you okay now?"

"Don't mention that stuff"

"I know I'm sorry little lady, I forgot." I laughed giving her a kiss "ah... I uhhh y/n I love you And I don't wanna be rude but... I need to wash my mouth out now because, I can taste the morning sickness" I sighed quickly washing my mouth as I could taste it, it was horrible.

"Sorry Benny"

'ita fine I was dumb for giving you a kiss before you washed your mouth out"

"It's not morning sickness either it's like one pm"

"I class it as morning sickness as you only woke up like two hours ago"

"And morning sickness lasts all day," she says loitering over where I was cooking

"Then why not just call it pregnant sickness?"

"I don't know" she shurgs trying to steal the first finished bit

"Oi! No little lady its too hot you'll burn your pretty mouth"

"What do you care?"

"Well I might wanna use that pretty mouth later" I winked giving her butt a pinch

"Benny!" She whines

"What?"

"Dirty daddy"

"Well how can I not be when mummy's so sexy and beautiful" I cooed giving her a kiss on the head

[xxkellsvixen19xx]

Spotlight: Life Of A Troubled Celebrity Heartthrob Ch 5.1

Word Count: 7,019 *Between Both Parts

Colson woke up first as moonlight beat down on his face. He sat up and stretched his lean body. When he had planned this trip he hadn't anticipated falling asleep on the boat. He looked at Y/N and didn't have the heart to wake her but she slowly opened her eyes when he stirred.

"What time is it?" She rubbed her eyes and yawned.

"It's just a little after midnight. We should get back it's a bit cold out here." He threw the blanket over Y/N. "You can go back to sleep while I drive us back."

"I think I'll come and keep you company." She stifled another yawn.

"If you insist. I won't complain." He kissed her long and hard.

"I wish we could stay this way forever." He sighed as he held her face in his hands.

"No you don't. You would probably get bored in a few minutes." She joked.

"Spend the night with me." His face was illuminated by the moonlight, piercing blue eyes pleading with her. He didn't want this night to end. All he wanted was to spend more time with her. Not in a sick perverted way but he just wanted to be close to her-to hold her and never let her go.

"Colson I-"

"All I want to do is hold you okay? No second base..unless you want-"

"Don't push it Baker." She laughed and swatted his shoulder.

"Okay let me get you out of here. Stay here it's warmer okay?" He straightened the thick blanket over her. Then went over to start the engine and steered the boat back to the estate. She snuggled under the warm blanket and dozed off.

"Sorry to wake you sweets but we're here. I would carry you out of the boat but we would both end up in the water." He laughed as she squinted up at him.

"Okay." She said her voice horse and her head still groggy.

Y/N stumbled across the gangplank, Colson laughed as he scooped her into his arms and carried her into the house. He took the steps up to his room, kicked the door open and laid her down gently on the soft bed. She even tried to protest when he removed her shoes but he pushed insisted.

"Colson that isn't necessary. I can do that myself. I'm not an invalid." She was wide awake now.

"Your feet are stone cold Bambi! Should I run you a bath?" He rubbed her feet but his efforts were futile.

"Hmmm, I think I'd love to soak in a warm bath right now." She rolled her neck and stretched out her body. Colson couldn't help but stare and was glad Y/N couldn't read his thoughts right now, because they were anything but clean.

"Am I allowed to join you? I'm cold too." He said as he stood and made his way to the bathroom.

"Sure why not? I'm sure the jacuzzi is big enough for both of us.." Y/N taunted him. She leaned back on the bed a naughty smile on her face. She couldn't understand where her sudden boldness came from? It was probably because she was sleeping on her feet and her brain wasn't functioning in its full capacity. I mean who takes a bath after 1:00am??

"Careful what you wish for Bambi.." He wagged his finger at her. "I just might call your bluff sweets." He ran the bath water and added some strawberry scented bubble-bath. He walked back to the bedroom and found Y/N undressing.

"Oh! Sorry-I didn't-you should have-" He sputtered, his hands flew to cover his crimson face. Y/N threw her head back and laughed.

"Really Baker! Is this your first time to see a girl half-naked?" She threw her play-suit in his face as she walked past him and into the bathroom. Colson caught it before it hit the floor and stood there confused. He didn't want to misinterpret anything but that action right there, seemed like an invitation to him. Maybe it was time for him to test the waters..literally.

Y/N had left the bathroom wide open..another sign. He proceeded cautiously through the door, there was no going back after this. Y/N was lying in the tub with her hair tied up in a messy bun, her eyes closed as if she was asleep. Colson stood at the door and removed his clothes silently. He slipped into the jacuzzi and sat opposite Y/N and waited for some sort of reaction from her.

"Took you long enough to get here Baker. I almost fell asleep waiting for you." She said drowsily. Her eyes remained closed.

"You're hungry? I've asked Alison, the housekeeper, to bring us something. We can eat once we're done."

"Hmmm." Replied.

Food was the last thing on his mind right now. He wanted to eat something that was sitting right in front of him-in fact he wanted to devour her-to ravish her until they were totally spent. But with a lot of difficulty, he restrained himself and told himself good things come to those who wait.

"You need help staying awake sweets?" He slid over to her side and pulled her towards him.

"What did you have in mind?" Her eyes flew open and he saw the desire ignited in them. Now was the time he would make his move. The look in her eyes gave him the green light and told him everything he needed to know.

"A few things.." He brushed his lips lightly against hers and heard her inhale sharply. He teased her with feather-light kisses until her breathing was ragged. Then he kissed her thoroughly, his tongue touching every inch of her mouth.

They were interrupted by a loud knock on the door. They sprang apart but made no move to answer the door. Colson's arctic orbs burned into Y/N's brown ones and no words needed to be said. He stepped out of the tub and wrapped a fluffy bath towel around her body, their nakedness no longer an obstacle. She was swept of her feet and carried into the bedroom and laid on the bed. Colson hovered over her as if seeking permission to continue. She pulled him closer and their lips melted into each other again-but the incessant knocking was a mood-killer.

"You probably should get that." Y/N whispered into his lips as he looked down at her, frustration contorting his features. He let out a low angry growl and hopped off the bed to answer the door. Y/N felt sorry for whoever was standing on the other-side.

"Jax! What is it? It's almost two in the morning!" Colson scowled as he open the door just a crack.

" Anyway-you requested food so I offered to bring it up-" He motioned to the food cart, "plus there is an urgent matter that need your immediate attention..before it hits the press in a few hours. Byron and Andre are waiting downstairs"

"Let me get dressed. I'll be right down. Leave the cart outside I'll get it just now." Colson shut the door and got dressed quickly.

"Is everything okay?" Y/N pulled the covers over her and sat up.

"Yeah-you can eat and I'll join you in a bit." He wheeled the food into the room and kissed her on the forehead before dashing out.

Y/N jumped out of bed and went to rummage through Colson's closet, in search of a T-shirt or PJs that would fit her. She came so close-again-but she wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed. She stood in the closet and noticed they was woman's clothing neatly stacked in a shelf, while the dresses and jackets were hanging on the rails.

Y/N's heart sank as she fingered the clothing. The clothes seemed fairly new and were about her size. Probably they belonged to one of his many girlfriends and he had forgotten to hide them away or he had meant for them to remain here. She gave herself a mental shake, grabbed a pair of pink PJs and slipped them on, even it meant taking a risk of him being upset with her.

"Thank you floozy, for leaving your clothes in Colson's closet." She muttered to herself, as she dived under the covers, her appetite gone. What did she expect anyway? Of course he had a constant stream of girls sleeping over and she was probably just another statistic. But she still wanted him. Even as the silent tears slid down her face and onto the therapeutic pillow, her heart still yearned for him, for his touch, for his presence and a whole lot more.

It wasn't long before she nodded off to sleep.

********************************************

"What do you mean I signed the wrong document?? Don't I pay you to make sure that never happens??" Colson flipped over the glass table in a rage. Andre loosened his tie and cowered in the corner, beads of sweat scattered on his forehead.

"Look Colson, why don't we all take five? Let's step outside so you can get a bit of fresh air and collect our thoughts?" Byron put his hand on Colson's shoulder and he shrugged it off, before storming into the cool night-or morning rather.

Dawn was breaking and while Colson loved to watch the sunrise, he didn't derive any joy from it today. It had turned from a beautiful day to a nightmare-his worst nightmare. He sat by the poolside and hung his head in his hands. How was he going to get out of this mess? Most importantly how was he going to explain it to Y/N? Yet again he had got her entwined in his drama. He ripped of his t-shirt and dove into the water, did laps back and forth until he was spent. The sun was peeping threw the clouds when he jumped out and collapsed onto the well manicured lawn.

Byron stood over him and handed him a towel and a robe after he had dried himself. Alison had begun to serve breakfast out on the patio and Jax was barking orders to the bodyguards. Security was on high alert as per Colson's instructions. Y/N would need a bodyguard as well, once the story got out.

"I'm going to go break the news to Y/N before she hears it from someone else. Please don't come anywhere near my room until I say so. If anyone so much as knocks..there will be hell to pay." Colson stormed back into the house and ran up the stairs to his room. Y/N was still sound asleep when he jumped in behind her. He put his arms around her and held her like it was the last time. After what he had to tell her he was sure she would never want to see him again, because it would throw her world into absolute chaos.

"Hmm..you're cold." She protested, still half-asleep.

"Sorry baby I had an early morning swim.. I just need to hold you right now. Is that okay?" He snuggled closer to her and tightened his hold. The talk would have to wait until she was well-rested. He made sure to switch off both their phones earlier on so he was safe for now.

"Hmm..You okay?" She asked.

"Yeah-please go back to sleep baby." He kissed her hair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Andre please explain to me again how you messed up the paperwork? You always so articulate and careful. What went wrong this time? Your wife giving you problems man?" Byron paced up and down Colson's study, where he, Andre and Jax were having a closed door meeting.

"I had printed out the revised contract for him and Y/N to sign right? Then my sister-in-law asked me to process her papers for a marriage contract so I could submit them to the courts, then she could get her marriage licence. But I know someone that can take a shortcut and-somehow I mixed up the documents so-Colson and Y/N signed-in actual fact-not only a marriage contract but a marriage certificate. I don't know how I missed it..probably it was in between their documents and they mistakenly signed it. Well..it was my mistake but I then went on to submit it to court now-" Andre sighed and gulped down his third glass of whiskey, forgetting that it was only a little after 6:00am.

"Now some douche from the marriage office got his dirty hands on the documents and is blackmailing us for freakin' $5mil. Thanks for that Andre. Thanks a lot!" Byron spat. He pulled at his hair in agitation and threw deathly daggers at Andre.

"Look I know I messed up okay?? I'm probably going to be out of a job when Colson walks back down those stairs..I'm so screwed." Andre sank back into the couch and covered his face with a cushion. "Plus that guy has given us until noon to pay up or else.. "

"He's leaking it to the highest bidder." Byron finished off distastefully.

"How are we going to fix this Byron?" Andre sat on the edge of his seat.

"Unfortunately, you have hit a very sensitive spot..Colson is rather fond of Y/N and has developed a strong attachment to her. He doesn't know it yet but I think he's actually in love with her." Byron put his hands in his pockets and stared at the carpet thoughtfully.

"Yeah. I noticed.." Andre pursed his lips. "I'm finished aren't I?"

"Yeah." Byron nodded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Morning sweets." Colson leaned over and kissed Y/N on her forehead. "You sleep enough?"

"Ye-ah, I guess..we had a pretty late night." She sat up and stretched out her arms. "Sorry for wearing these PJs-I needed something to wear." She said sheepishly.

"What?? No need to apologize sweets, they're yours." He smiled.

"Mine?"

"Yeah-" He shifted nervously," Look Y/N there's something I need to tell you." He swallowed hard not being able to meet her eyes.

"Y/N? Wow-this has to be serious then." She pushed her back and propped herself on the headboard. "I'm listening.."

Colson explained the mess up that Andre had got them into. Y/N's face went from confusion to shock. After Colson was done she sat quietly, staring into space.

"So..what you're trying to tell me is that we're married??!"

"Yes." He finally met her bewildered expression. "We can get an annulment-"

"No! I don't want that on my record." She raised her hand.

"Tell me what you want me to do? I know apologizing is pointless but I really am sorry Y/N." Colson held her hands and looked intently at her. The remorse clearly displayed on his handsome face.

"Say something baby. Please?" She still hadn't responded to his question and it was beginning to scare him.

"I'm sorry..I need to go home." She hoped off the bed using the other end, wanting to escape. The walls felt like they were caving in and she found it hard to breath. She had to put some distance between them so she could think straight. How could she be married to Colson Baker? Married??

"Y/N! Wait!" She slammed the bathroom door in his face and locked it. "Can we talk about this?" He leaned his head against the door.

"Please sweets? Can you allow me to fix this? We're in this together remember?" The door suddenly flew open and she stood there, tears streaming down her face. It tore his heart into a million pieces seeing her like that.

"How are you going to fix this Colson?! Huh?! Please tell me??!" She cried out and started to punch his chest. He grabbed her wrists and crushed her against his chest.

"I'm really sorry okay? I'm going to fix this. Trust me okay?" He cooed as he smoothed her hair with his hands. "It's killing me to see you like this-I can't-" His voice broke and he buried his face in her neck.

They sank to the bathroom floor still in each others arms. Y/N's cries were now sniffles and her head was lying on Colson's shoulder. This was a perfect disaster. How would he even fix it? Where would he begin?

"You want to get out of here?" He broke the silence.

"Yes. Please take me as far as possible. I don't think I'll be able to handle any of this right now." She pleaded with him, her eyes still brimming with tears. He stood up and held out his hand to her and she grabbed on it as she got up.

"You can take a quick bath while I take care of our travel arrangements. Don't worry about packing clothes or anything like that-all I want is you." He kissed her gently on her lips and left her in the bathroom.

She took a quick shower and dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. There was breakfast waiting for her at the corner table, so she wolfed down a slice of toast and cheese, washed down with a glass of orange juice. When she went downstairs in search of Colson she heard loud voices coming from the poolside.

"You're fired!" Colson shouted to Andre.

"Colson it was a mistake-" Andre tried to reason.

"One that is going to ruin an innocent girls life!" Colson shot back. "Just leave! Get out of my face!"

"Wait!" Y/N called out as Andre made his way to leave.

"Y/N, please stay out of this. Let me handle it okay?" Colson walked over to her and held her shoulders.

"Andre stays." She challenged.

"What? He's responsible for-"

"He stays." She said firmly.

"No he can't-" Colson protested.

"As your wife, I say he stays." His eyes softened, he dropped his hands and stepped back to look at her.

Everyone else stared at the exchange in awe. Andre breathed a sigh of relief and wiped his face with the back of his hand. He really needed this job, he was the sole breadwinner in his family. He had a lot of people that depended on him.

"Fine." Colson said with clenched teeth. "But you will owe me big time Bambi."

"Can we leave now before the circus begins?" She said.

"Yeah-Jax we're good?" Colson asked visibly relaxed.

"Sure thing boss." Jax replied.

"Great. Now I can go and give my wife a real honeymoon. We might even have to consummate the marriage. What do you think Bambi??" Colson put his arm around Y/N and gave her a knowing look.

"Don't push it sweetie." She rolled her eyes but her heart was hammering wildly against her chest. How was she going to handle being totally alone with the sexy, irresistible Colson Baker?

*********************************************

"Who's this?" Colson barked into the phone.

"Is that the way to greet you best friend?" Slim chuckled softly.

"Hey, how's it going dude? You alright?" Colson sat on the edge of the bed.

"I would be alright if you got me out of here. Today preferably. Otherwise..I might be tempted to bribe one of the nurses to-"

"Slim you know this is for your own good. You almost died man! I can't have that on my conscious again." Colson ran his fingers through his hair and sighed audibly. Slim needed to stay in rehab, but he didn't seem to understand that. This could be his only hope of staying alive, he had too many close calls so far.

"Listen, if you don't get me out of here this very minute then you're going to force me to do something that we will both regret. You more than me though-because you have so much more to lose." Slim said aggressively, "don't push me Col."

"That sounds like a threat?" Colson scowled. "You know better than to do that." He tut-tutted.

"Really?? How's that sweet doe-eyed obsession of yours? I wouldn't mind-" Slim taunted.

"Leave Y/N out of this okay! Touch her and you're finished. You will never work in this country again." Colson stood and gripped the phone tighter. His anger emanating through the phone.

"She might be sweeter than Dani...Now Dani was wild in the sack man, I can understand why you were hooked on her..it's a pity she had to die.." He mocked.

"You are the reason she's dead!" Colson shot back.

"Oh no, no, no. Don't give me all the credit man. You are as much to blame." Slim said deadly calm.

"Go to hell!" Colson cut the call and smashed his iPhone against the wall.

Slim had pushed him too far this time and he was going to pay dearly. How did someone claim to be your friend and then do something that contradicts the statement? How could he threaten Y/N, the only person that he had shown any remote interest since Dani?

"Hey Col, everything okay?" Byron entered the room with caution.

"I want Slim gone. I don't care how you do it but I want him gone." Colson punched his hand with force. "He dares to threaten me? Threaten Y/N?? After everything I've done for him and this is what….I want him gone." He said through gritted teeth.

"Okay," Byron sat down slowly, "I won't even ask, you can tell me whenever you're ready... But the jewelers are here, they're waiting in the study." He stood up again and turned at the door. "You can come down when you've-calmed down."

Colson went to freshen up and went to fetch Y/N from her room. He knocked softly and couldn't help but smile, when she opened the door for him. He dipped his head and kissed her softly on the lips and deepened the kiss as he felt her respond. He pushed her back onto the bed as he sought solace from the only place he knew. Sensing his need she poured herself into him and gave as good as she got. Colson finally broke off the kiss reluctantly, their breathing heavy and their eyes hazy.

"I really don't want to do this sweets, but..we have to go downstairs." He sighed and pushed back Y/N's unruly hair, "the jeweler is here and I'd like you to pick out your ring or rings, whatever you prefer is fine."

"Colson..you don't have to do this. This isn't even a proper marriage." Y/N protested.

"I know sweets but if we're going to do this then I suggest we play the part to the T. otherwise no one will believe our little story." He said as he sat at the edge of the bed.

"I thought we weren't giving in to the blackmailer's demands?" she sat up and tried to salvage her hair. She grabbed the brush on the dresser and swept it through her hair.

"We're not, we're going to beat him at his own game." Colson watched her, mesmerized.

"You okay there Baker? Would you like a spin?" She waved the brush in his face and laughed.

"Would you..brush my hair? No one's ever done that-well besides my stylist." He shrugged.

"Sure..if you really want me to.. I might as well start performing my wifely duties." The brush felt so good as it swept though his hair, he couldn't help but groan in appreciation.

"That feels so good." He closed his eyes and leaned into her. His hands went round her waist and before he could venture any further there was a loud knock.

"We're coming down in a minute-go-away!" Colson called out, his hands still wrapped around Y/N.

"We should go babe, its a quarter to eleven." Y/N didn't realize the slip but he did.

"Don't ever stop," he said.

"What?" she frowned.

"Don't ever stop calling me that," he pecked her lips and stood up. Y/N nodded dumbly, unsure how to respond.

"Let's go Bambi," he pulled her hand and led her downstairs.

The study was already occupied with the jewelers, Jax and Byron. Colson walked in and looked around, not at all pleased.

"Right this is what's going to happen-I want every one out, including you two," he pointed at the jewelers, "this moment is between my wife and I, no one else. We will let you know on how much to bill us once we've decided. I don't want her to feel pressured or uncomfortable so get," he pointed towards the door.

Everyone shuffled out wordlessly and Y/N turned to Colson with a frown.

"Was that necessary Baker?" she folded her arms.

"Yes," he simply said, "shall we begin Mrs Baker?" he pulled out a chair for her.

"Thank you Mr Baker," she smiled at him as she sat down.

"If you keep looking at me like that then I'm going to be forced to kiss you until you breathless," he stared into her big brown eyes.

"I dare you," she whispered, her heart racing.

Colson didn't need to be urged on any further; he pulled Y/N off the chair and brushed his lips over hers, torturously slowly and softly. Y/N strained her lips towards him in an effort to deepen the kiss and appease the havoc that simple act was causing in her body.

"I think we have to stop now-otherwise I won't be able to control myself," he leaned his forehead on hers.

"Okay," she replied, in barely a whisper.

"I know I promised to keep my distance..but I can't Bambi..you make it so hard..especially when you look at me like that," he gulped, "with such intensity-such innocence, I don't want to taint you," he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Colson..there's something I need to tell you.." Y/N diverted her gaze from him.

"Please don't say you want to leave-" he looked at her, in anguish.

"No that's not it," she shook hear head vehemently.

"Then what is it?" he turned her chin up and searched her face for answers.

"I'm not a virgin," she removed his hands from her face and went to sit down on the chaise, at the far end of the room.

Colson stood there, his hard-drive still trying to process the information that she had just laid on him. She wasn't a virgin? But that was good right? But why did she seem so sad, instead of relieved? Was she perhaps raped? Abused? He would make them pay, whoever it was they would pay, he would find them and make them pay, he thought. Y/N took his delayed response as a bad sign. She should have told him sooner, then maybe he wouldn't look so disappointed.

"Y/N, look at me," he sat next to her and held her hands, "I don't care okay? That's irrelevant sweets."

"What?" She frowned slightly.

"Sorry-that came out wrong-let me re-phrase okay?" he gave her a lopsided grin, "It doesn't matter to me okay? I know you have a past and it's nothing to be ashamed of sweets. Mine is probably ten times worse than yours," he laughed. "This doesn't change the way I feel about you okay?"

"I thought you would be disappointed," she said with despair.

"Never," he cupped her face in his hands.

"But you don't know the full story-" she protested.

"And I don't need to okay? When you're ready to tell me then you will-but for now please choose a ring baby?" They laughed and lightened the tension.

She finally settled on a simple ring in platinum with a ruby and a double row of round brilliant diamonds. They had matching wedding bands in white gold, encrusted with white diamonds. They instinctively exchanged weddings bands and smiled at each other, as they slipped the rings on each others fingers.

"You're mine now," he said before he kissed her softly.

"Does it work both ways," she countered as her heart fluttered.

"Try getting a divorce and you will see exactly how it works," he smiled at her as he held up his iPhone and took multiple shots of their rings and entwined hands. They started goofing around with the camera and took more funny photos and Colson posted the best ones on his social media; until Byron knocked on the door.

"Colson it's almost noon and the pressure is on.. you're good to go?" Byron peered through the door.

"We're more than good By, check my latest tweet," he scrolled through his phone showing Byron the photos and social media posts., "it already has over 20,000 views in less than ten minutes.

#shesaidyes #ilikeditsoiputaringonit #relationshipgoals #itsofficial #mrsandmrsbaker

"Well, this is very convincing! Hey, even I'm falling for it," Byron chuckled, "you guys have great chemistry so it will be easy for the media to eat it up."

"The only person I want to eat it is the blackmailer," Colson said as he slipped his phone into his pocket.

"Andre managed to trap him. We have managed to trace the call and he's on his way to pick him up-with the cops of course," Byron said with satisfaction.

"At least Andre did something right for a change," Colson scoffed.

"Babe, can I go and call my mom now? I promised to call her ages ago and I'm sure she's in hysterics by now.." Y/N put her hands on Colson's chest and Byron raised an eyebrow.

"Sweets, I can't apologize enough about all this-" he held her face.

"Don't- it's not your fault okay?" she kissed him again.

"I'll be up in a moment, let me finish up here okay?" Colson kissed her forehead and she left.

"So..Babe??" Byron laughed, "I got a feeling this isn't pretend anymore.."

"Shut up," Colson said, "when are you going to release the press statement? Is my jet ready? I need to get to New York for that charity benefit tonight."

"Yeah, I'm on it. We can leave for New York, whenever you're ready," Byron said.

"Great, I want to leave now. Can you ask Jax to pick up Y/N's friends and meet us at the airstrip? I'll go and make sure my bags are packed." Colson's phone rang as he made to leave.

"Baker," he said.

"So I guess congratulations are in order bro?" Slim said.

"What do you want??" Colson stiffened.

"Hey bro! Chill out! Why are you all up tight?? You just got married man! Loosen up," Slim laughed.

"You're kidding right? You have some nerve-"

"Dude, you need to chill okay? Are we still going to the charity benefit?" Slim asked.

Colson sighed as he raked his hair. "You bust out of rehab didn't you?"

"You know me too well Col," Slim cackled.

*********************************************

"I still can't decide what to wear!" Liv said, exasperated. She had gone through the closet about a million times and was even more confused than before.

"Don't worry, Michelle will be here soon," Y/N looked up from her phone.

"So has your Mom calmed down yet?" Lisa asked as she plopped herself onto the bed.

"No, she's freaking out for days!" Y/N frowned. Ever since they announced their marriage her mother was inundated with calls and was being hounded by the media again. Mrs Y/M/L/N was upset that Y/N got married without telling her and felt like she was way in over her head. She had even demanded Y/N catch the first flight home but she was adamant about staying with Colson. For now they had agreed to disagree.

"Hallooo there Mrs Baker!!" Ashleigh barged into the room and launched herself onto Y/N, causing them to fall off the bed.

"You could have just said hi like a normal person," Y/N giggled as Ashleigh straddled her.

"I leave you alone for a couple of days and you come back as Colson Baker's freakin' wife!" Ashleigh pretended to strangle her, "Oh-my-days! Will you look at the size of the rock on that ring???!"

"It's beautiful isn't it?" Y/N twisted the ring on her finger.

"Thanks for the heads up by the way," Ashleigh scowled.

"Sorry Ash, it just happened," Y/N said, out of breath, "Let me up!" she protested.

"Such things just don't happen-oh hey there Lisa! Liv!" she hugged them.

"Right, everyone in the sitting room now, we don't have much time," Michelle bust open the door and commanded everyone to start getting ready, "Y/N you're up first, Colson will be coming for you soon."

"Oh, I thought I was going with everyone else.." Y/N said.

"Not a chance, you're Colson's wife now so it's a whole new ball game. Congratulations by the way," Michelle smiled, "you need to get your make up done so you can stay in here. Let me just grab my bag, I'll be right back."

Michelle had chosen a Chanel emerald embroidered fishtail maxi dress. It accentuated all Y/N's curves, a low-cut back exposed her smooth tanned skin; fashioned from a luxurious velvet and lace material with hand embroidery all over the dress. The fishtail design and mermaid hem created a perfect silhouette. Her hair was swept up into a neat bubble-bun and a smokey-eye look for her make-up, her lipstick was a matte in crimson.

"You clean up nice Mrs Baker," Michelle admired her handiwork and handed Y/N a matching clutch purse.

"Good job as always! I can't even recognize myself," Y/N twirled around.

"Colson will not be able to keep his hands off you tonight, hope you're on birth control," Michelle joked and they laughed. There was a soft knock on the door and Michelle opened it on her way out, "hey Col, she's all yours."

Tagged: @kellysimagines

[thiswasinevitableid]

Okay well then!!!! I am very glad and excited to share my most recent idea I had while rereading Yeti Hunting again!! And the new Incubus one too!! They're almost exactly the same idea, just different flavors I suppose. Also Joe is trans in both the ideas but that's less to do with the ideas themself and more to do with just me projecting on him sgfjgsjfhsjdh

Okay so it's like a reverse au so Stern is some kind of cryptid, but as far as Barclay knows they're just two good human friends (but maybe they wanna be a little more than friends...). And then one day Joseph goes into heat and tells Barclay he's sick to try to keep him away, but Barclay being the sweetest man alive goes to his house with fresh soup to take care of him and Joe seems really panicked about Bar being there and tries to make him leave but he is CLEARLY unwell and Barclay is very stubborn when it comes to helping people he cares about and so he plants himself down on the couch and says he's not leaving until Joe tells him what's wrong and Stern tries to hold onto his human form but it's taking too much focus and energy and whoops Barclay finds out his friend not human and currently in distress and so horny it hurts and if he can help his friend and fuck him at the same time, well then that's just a win all around (bonus points if at the end Barclay is kinda sad because he thinks Joe just needed somone to fuck him, not nessacarry Barclay, but Joe frantically assures him that he is SUPER into him and if it were anyone else he would have kicked them the hell out and probably skipped town bc he couldn't trust anyone else with a secret like this).

Or!! (This is where the incubus part comes in) Joe is an incubus and currently hiding out in his human disguise at the Amnesty lodge and it's going fine for a while, but then he starts talking to and getting to know the really hot chef. And they slowly start growing closer and closer. And maybe in this world, the power an Incubus gets from sex depends just as much on their desires as it does the human's. And this has never been an issue for Stern before, but now he's falling for Barclay and wants him and no one else so he's getting less and less energy from his encounters and Barclay is worried about him because he doesn't seem like himself anymore. Almost as if he's... dulled? When Barclay looks at him the blue of his eyes seem muted and his general aura seems... gray. And it all comes to ahead when Joe finally stops insisting he's fine and after dinner one night he asks if he can speak to Barclay privately, and he comes clean about everything and Barclay, while a little shocked, rolls with it very well and cups Joe's face in his hands and kisses him softly and it like,,, you should have come to me sooner, I'd do anything for you,,, and yeah it's really tender,,,,

Okay that's it I'm sorry it's so long and probably incoherent. I tried to use at least little formatting to make it better but it's a tumblr mobile ask, I'm not sure even the new paragraphs will translate over. The general idea is that they're close friends and Stern is Not Human and Barclay finds out under less than ideal circumstances :3 I know these are far from original or unique but I just wanted to share my ideas with you bc you're the inspiration for a good 70% of my private writings, but if you like them enough and ever feel like doing something with them that'd be cool ;3

Here you go! I went with scenario one. Content Note: some “mating” talk and mild subdrop at the end (which is, of course, taken care of)

The two canvas bags are ready to burst. Barclay peers into them, contemplating the addition of another box of tea, in case Joseph doesn’t like the other two. Mama was cagey when he asked, he doesn’t know what’s ailing the other man, only that he’s sick. 

Joseph manages Amnesty Lodge, where Barclays’ been a cook for the last six months. Barclay was initially wary of him; his cosmopolitan bearing and clean-cut appearance is so out of place in the rustic mountain town of Kepler that the logical explanation is he’s one of those city types who fell on hard times and got stuck here. 

It took less than forty-eight hours for him to prove Barclay wrong. Polite and polished, efficient and stunningly good in a crisis, Joseph handles the day to day chaos of the lodge while Mama, the owner, took care of the big picture stuff. His friendly greetings and consistent compliments about Barclays cooking gradually turned to afternoons spent at a table with his work so they could talk during lulls in business. 

When Joseph leaned against the counter, sleeves rolled up, laughing as he helped Barclay tidy the kitchen, the cook rushed headlong into his crush and never looked back. He regularly dreams of blue eyes and a movie-star face, finds his day doesn’t really start until Joseph pokes his head in to say good morning. 

He’s been without that greeting for two days now. Joseph never misses work, and his sudden absence worried Barclay enough that he checked with Mama to be sure the manager was okay.

“Joe’s fine big fella, just under the weather is all.”

The one time Barclay got sick, Joseph brought him tea and soup himself, checked in on him every hour, and--if Barclay’s fever addled brain is to be trusted--fluffed his pillows. It’s the least Barclay can do to drop off snacks and be sure his friend is okay. 

It’s a short drive to cabin Joseph calls home; he used to live at the Lodge, but as it got more crowded, he moved to his own space so those who needed a cheap, safe place to stay could have one. 

His knock on the door is answered by a brisk, “Who is it?”

“Barclay. I, uh, I brought you a get-well gift.”

Joseph opens the door to the cabin and to an entire new universe of fantasies. His normally slicked-back hair falls, relaxed, across his forehead, his loosely tied blue robe shows a tantalizing V of skin, and the dreamy-sleepy expression makes his face even more kissable. 

“Hi.” Joseph takes a step forward, taking the bags and bringing his face achingly close to Barclays’. Then he freezes, reversing into the house, “I, um, it was very sweet of you to bring all this. But you need to go.” He takes another step back, then doubles over with a groan. 

Barclay hurries across the threshold, setting the bags on the floor and steadying him over to the couch.

“Fuck, do you need me to get you like a heat pack, or a puke bucket?”

“No, no I just need to lay down, and for you to g-” he shudders, curling in on himself and tipping sideways. 

“Joseph, you’re really sick, I’m not gonna just leave you here. I mean, fuck, what if it’s your appendix or something?” He sits down next to the shaking man, rubbing his back comfortingly. 

“It’s not, I promise. Oh lord” he whines, looks at Barclay with frantic eyes, “I hope you can keep a secret.”

“Of course I can. Whatever I can do to help, I want to.” 

“Careful with those promises, big guy.” The nickname comes out in a growl as Joseph stands, undoing his wristwatch. 

“Oh FUCK!” Barclay scrambles back, almost falling over the arm of the couch.

There’s a monster where Joseph just was. Years ago Barclay saw a Maned Wolf in a zoo, and he’d swear that’s what he’s looking at now were it not for several glaring issues. First, it’s standing comfortably on two legs. It’s paws are more like hands, able to hold the watch and adjust the collar of its shirt. And he’s never seen a wolf, maned or otherwise, with spines down its back and a whip-like tail.

The creature runs a clawed hand through the fur at the top of it’s head, the way Joseph does when he’s nervous,  “So. I can’t tell you everything, at least not right now. What I can tell you is that this is the form I was born into, somewhere far away from earth.”

“Okay.” Barclays brain grinds like a broken ice machine as a familiar voice speaks to him from a fanged mouth. 

“I, um, I’m what humans call a Chupacabra. To answer the usual questions: no, I’ve never been to Puerto Rico. No, I don’t eat goats. And no, I’m not going to eat you.”

“Okay.” His heart is still racing, but not from fear, which is the most confusing was this could have gone.

Pointed ears flick, worried, “Are you in shock?”

“Kinda, yeah.” He nods as Joseph sits next to him with a heavy sigh. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out this way. I took the next few days off to avoid this exact scenario. I figured I wouldn’t see you, but forgot how thoughtful and caring you are.” Claws gently stroke Barclays hair, “my wonderful Barclay.”

He’s about to bring his hand up, cup those strange fingers to his cheek and whisper “always”, when Joseph pulls away. 

“I, I’m sorry. Again. I always get too handsy when I’m in heat. That’s the second worst side-effect, after the fact that being in my disguise is untenable when I’m in the thick of it. It’s like wearing a wet, wool sweater made of nausea.”

“....Hold on, you had to take time off work because you’re horny?” 

“Almost. Heat doesn’t come that often for me, which means whenever it happens, it’s intense. I have a hard time eating or sleeping, I can’t focus, and I spend most of the week masturbating. Which is not as fun as it sounds; I’m not even at the height of the damn thing and last night I humped a pillow on the kitchen floor while dinner reheated.”

Barclay groans, tries to hide it when the ears swivel his way, “Uh, guess I’m glad I brought you lots of food so you remember to eat. Shoulda, uh, put some lube or something in there as well, huh?” 

Joseph chuckles, “My nose tells me you put molasses cookies in there, so I’ll let it slide.”

“There anything else I can do to help?”

“Well…” he shakes his head, “never mind, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Do what?”

“My heat is more manageable when I have a partner. Fucking someone relieves things more effectively than masturbation does. But I can’t-”

“I can help with that.” The offer is out before his brain catches up with his mouth. 

“Barclay, my kind have a very, um, involved mode of, um, well, I guess you foreplay. As, as much as I’d love for you to be my mate” he winces, “see, that’s what I mean. I say things like that, most of them not even possible given the fact you and I can’t reproduce.” 

“Uh, does it help if I say hearing you call me that is really hot?”

Blue eyes widen, and a tail traces up Barclays leg, “Only if you mean it.”

“I do.”

A narrow, long tongue flicks into the air, “In that case, big guy, how about we have a little planning session over dinner?”

-------------------------------------------------

Barclay parks in the driveway, next to Josephs’ sedan. He heads past the house and down a short slope to a creek, the twilight sky casting the forest in eerie grey-blue. There’s a tire swing leftover from a previous resident, and he idly pushes it back and forth as he waits for the game to start. 

“It’s like hide and seek” Joseph wipes his mouth, cleans cookie crumbs from the table, “We start outside, move inside, and you go as long as you can without me catching you. After all, I want a mate who can hold his own.”

He stuffs his hands in his jacket pocket to warm them. A yip bounces out from the trees behind him. When he turns, he quickly spots glinting eyes and bared fangs hidden in the undergrowth. 

Sprinting towards the cabin, he realizes Joseph laid a trap for him from the start; by asking him to begin at the creek, he’s forcing him to run uphill to safety, slowing him down. He lets his lizard-brain, concerned only with the fact that something dangerous is chasing him, take over and drive his legs as fast as they’ll go. The back door is locked, he double-checked that on the way down, so he doesn’t waste his time trying it, races to the front of the cabin and slams the door shut just as something huge rounds the corner after him. 

The nob jiggles, his pursuer testing the lock and discovering the thrown deadbolt. Barclay uses those few seconds to secure the windows on the first floor, throws his jacket down into the cellar as a failsafe, and bolts up to the bedroom. His hammering heart insists that locking that door is not enough, so he crawls into the closet and shuts himself up among the meticulously organized shirts and slacks. It’s not enough space for him to stand, so he tucks his knees to his chest and waits. 

“What happens if I, like, completely outsmart you.”

A toothy smile, “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you.”

Each of the downstairs windows rattle in turn. Then the scratching starts, claws on wood coming closer with each breath. Joseph is climbing the wall up to the bedroom window that Barclay knows for a motherfucking fact he did not secure. 

A shuff as the window slides open, the cryptid landing with remarkable stealth on the bedroom floor. Barclay tracks him by the light coming under the closet door, his mouth covered so his breathing won’t give him away. The shadow pauses, sniffs, and then the bedroom door opens and shuts. Barclay’s not moving until he hears the front door do the same. 

Just as his legs start to protest being smushed up against his chest, the door reopens. Snuffling signals Joseph closing in, and an instant later the only light coming in is from the far ends of the door. Slowly, his last line of defense rolls to the right, revealing the creature crouching on the other side.

“Not a bad effort, big guy. You actually confused me for a minute with the scent trail of your coat downstairs.” Joseph reaches for him and Barclay, remembering that he’s not supposed to give up until he’s pinned, leans away. 

“That’s how my mate wants to play?”

“J-just following your instructions, babe.”

An intrigued purr, “I guess you are. All the more reason you’re the perfect partner for me.”

The words Barclays dreamed of hearing for months distract from the claws closing around his ankles. He lets out an undignified yelp when Joseph pulls his legs straight out and drags him out of the closet. Once he’s free of the forest of clothing, the cryptid picks him up and drops him on the bed. He moans and Joseph snickers, joining him on the bedspread. 

“Fuck, Joseph, no one’s ever been able to do that before and it’s so, so fucking hot.” He arches his back and shifts his limbs to help Joseph undress him.

“It’s because you’re the perfect size; big and strong, large enough to give me a decent cuddle when I’m human, but still small enough to be an easily subdued mate.” He gets the humans’ jeans and boxers off, hesitates, and then tosses them on the floor with a pained expression, “I’ll fold those later.”

“Gonna hold you to that. Also, wanna point out that it wasn’t that easy to subdue me.”

Joseph nuzzles his cheek, claws caressing his thighs, “Barclay, I was jogging while you were sprinting.”

“You coulda caught me right awaAAy ohwhatthefuck.” Tingling heat glides down his throat as Joseph licks a stripe along the skin, “fuck, it, it feels like the time I tried hot wax.”

The cryptid sits up slightly to look at him, “Is that a...good thing?”

“Fuck yeah. I really fucking liked it but it was fucking murder with the chest hair.”

Joseph runs his claws through the hair in question, “I like it.”

“I know, I saw you eyeing me that one time I used the springs at the lodge.”

“You can’t prove anything.” Joseph leans back down, curling his tongue around Barclays left nipple. The sensation makes him buck his hips, which Joseph correctly takes as a signal for more. He moves to the other side, takes his time teasing it and licking down the sensitive center of Barclays chest. Noses his stomach, nips his sides, and slides the alien heat of his tongue into the crease of his thighs. 

“Y’know I, ohfuck, I assumed from all that talk yesterday you’d get right to fucking me.”

Joseph kisses the inside of one thigh, “I, um, I thought about it, almost ripped your jeans to shreds and took you on the floor. But I wanted to be sure you were turned on. You’re not just a warm body, Barclay. You’re my mate. That means your pleasure matters as much as mine.” He licks up Barclays’ cock, hardened from rubbing against the soft fur of his belly, and sighs, “and what a mate.”

“Fuck” he squeezes his eyes closed because if we watches that mouth saying everything he wants to hear in between sucking his dick, he’ll cum in ten seconds flat. 

A final lick to the tip and then Joseph hops off the bed, “Did you prep the way I told you?”

“Uhhuh.” 

“Good.” Joseph returns, sets several items he can’t see by his feet, “that’ll make things easier. First things first” he produces a cock cage, sliding it into place, “these are a few things I smuggled over from my original home. This is enchanted, so it can go on an erect cock but still prevent the wearer from cumming until it’s removed.”

“That’s just cruel, babe.” He sits up on his elbows to kiss Josephs snout, earning him a pleased yip. 

“If you cum too fast, I won’t be able to properly breed you.” He winces again, “sorry, I sound like one of Indrids romance novels.”

“Again, gorgeous, I find it really fucking hot.”

The spines on Joseph’s back ripple, “You think I’m gorgeous? Like this?”

“I do. Also kinda scary, but in a hot way.” Now it’s his turn to cringe, “see? I sound like cheap porn written by an eighth grader when I’m horny. The way you sound is fine.”

Joseph lovebites his ear, then retrieves the other two items from the end of the bed. 

“And how does this look, big guy?”

“Like it’s either going to kill me or make me cum like a dozen times.” He furrows his brow at the strap-on. It’s narrower than the average human dick, with a pointed, slightly up-curved tip. What’s worrying him are the spikes. 

The entire shaft is coated in short protrusions. They don’t end in points, thank god, but if they’re at all stiff this is going to be miserable. 

“Here” Joseph waves him over, “touch it.” He guides his fingers along one side and the spines bend fluidly under his touch, and now all he wants to know is how they feel inside him. Joseph also moans, bucking his hips so the toy slides along Barclays palm.

“It’s, ohlord, also enchanted so that the wearer feels it as an extension of their body and can cum with it. Also, please decide in the next thirty seconds whether you want to be on your back or your stomach.” Amber pre-cum drips down Barclay’s fingers. 

“Stomach is better for meWHOAH, ohfuck, okay we’re doing this.” Now flipped on his belly, he raises his ass. The cryptid kneads it appreciatively before holding it open and sliding his cock in with once, graceful thrust. 

He bottoms out with a groan, which is more articulate than Barclay is managing to be as the spines rub and glide inside him, finding every patch of nerves, every angle to drag against in just the right way. Joseph hauls him onto his knees and then he’s off, growls and yips filling the as he fucks him. Barclay only just registers the bed banging into the wall so forcefully the headboard is cracking when claws sink into his hips and Joseph pulls him all the way onto his cock and pulses into him. 

“Holy fuck that was fast.”

“I, I didn’t jack off once today. Didn’t want to waste it, wanted to save it all for my perfect mate.” He’s thrusting again, not as hard but twice as fast, “shit, you feel so good, big guy, please tell me Mama okayed your time off for tomorrow.”

“Wh-why are we talkingAHnnn, about this now?”

Hot breath tickles his ear, “Because now that I know what’s like to cum in you, I don’t plan on cumming anywhere else for the next day and a half.”

“Ohfuckme” Barclay groans happily into the pillows as Joseph empties into him, cries out when his tail whips across his calf.

“Shit, did that hurt?”

“No, no it felt good, fucking-A babe every fucking part of you is amazing.”

The cryptid whines, pleased, and wiggles his hips, giving Barclay an idea. 

“That’s, uh, that’s why I want you for my mate, because you’re so fucking goo-mmph” his face presses harder into the pillows as Joseph pins his shoulders down and fucks into him, snarling “yes” over and over again. When he finishes this time he hunches over, nipping Barclay’ shoulders and neck. 

“You catch on quick, big guy.”

“Thanks, babe. Uh, are we gonna switch it up at any point or am I staying like this until tomorrow night?”

“No, we can fuck however we want. After” a fuzzy hand rubs circles on Barclay’s abdomen, “I’ve cum in you enough times that I can feel it from out here.”

Barclay moans, tightening around him as his hips snap once more, already imagining being full and fucked out. Maybe it’ll take all night. He’ll be limp if it does, but right now nothing sounds better than melting into the bed while Joseph fucks his ass like it belongs to him. 

After forty-five minutes, his cock is aching, his mind holds only thoughts of how good it feels to do as Joseph tells him, and he’s been cum in so many times that wet, obscene sounds accompany the cryptids thrusts. Said sounds pale in comparison to Josephs’ voice, which is spinning increasingly impossible scenarios the longer they’re in bed. 

“I hope they take after you.” Joseph murmurs. 

Barclay just manages to turn his head, “Who?”

A muzzle playfully nudges his cheek, “Our kids.”

His heart seizes and shakes at the words; they both know that’s not what will happen. Joseph warned him he might say things like this, said he could tell him to knock it off if need be. 

“Maybe they’ll, ahnn, they’ll have big, beautiful brown eyes and bigger hearts, just like you.”

He doesn’t want him to stop. Every thrust hits deeper, every point where their skin meets buzzes brighter when he talks like this.

“H-hope at least one looks like you, blue eyes.”

A guttural whine, tingling heat as Joseph laps tenderly at the back of his neck, “We’ll just have to see, usually we’re born in threes so, soOH, oh I’m close, shitshit” 

“That’s it babe, fill me up, c’mon, c’mon I want it so bad, Joseph, baby, please.” 

There’s a howltrill as cum spurts into him, Joseph panting as he smooths his hand around Barclays side.

“There, that’s done it.”

Barclay whimpers as he pulls out, his mind and body pulled tight, certain that if he doesn’t cum soon he’ll propose marriage instead and that’ll be a fucking disaster. 

Joseph carefully rolls him over and unlocks the cage, “Do you want to cum?”

“More than anything. Oh!” he’s unprepared for Joseph to sink down on his cock, “oh fuck, yeah, wanna cum so bad babe please, I’ll be so good, be such a good mate if you just let me cum in y-fuuuck” A trio of sensations levels him as he climaxes; his vision whites out, his hips jerk more violently than they ever have before, and a line of cum drips down his leg. 

Somewhere far away, Joseph says, “I think we’ve earned a break.”

He nods, body limp as the cryptid climbs off him. Then he’s falling, spinning helplessly down in a pit of realizations. 

Joseph didn’t mean any of those things he said. His friend needed a mate and Barclay, lovesick fool he is, was eager for a chance to play pretend that he didn’t think about what would happen when the game ended. Even if Joseph keeps him here through tomorrow, the next time they meet at the Lodge he’ll act like nothing happened. 

Fuck, Barclay didn’t even get to kiss him during all this, and now he’ll never get the chance, never, nevernever-

“Shit, I should have put a towel or a spare blanket down. Now I’ll have to strip the bed before I can--Barclay? Oh, oh baby, what’s wrong?” A hand pets his face and he turns away from it, refusing to open his eyes. Joseph takes his hand instead, “it’s okay, I’m here, whatever you need I’ll-”

“Don’t. Don’t say that. You can’t give me what I need, it isn’t your fault I, I know I’m not really your partner and I, I…” he sniffles, wipes his palm under his eye. 

“Barclay, look at me please.”

Reluctantly, he opens his eyes just in time to see Joseph dip down and kiss him. It’s awkward, their mouths not made to fit together, but he savors it all the same because it’s Joseph, his Joseph, kissing him like he hoped he would. 

“My heat can make me say some ridiculous things. What it can’t do is make me feel affection where none exists. In fact, the reason I wasn’t able to keep my disguise on yesterday is because being near you meant being near the mate I wanted most in the world. I, um, suspected you might share my feelings, but I didn’t want our first interaction as boyfriend to be me asking if you wanted to spend a day or so with me while I was in a sex haze. But then you offered to help, and I wanted it so badly that I barreled ahead without making sure you understood that this was me declaring my feelings. I’m sorry.”

Barclay climbs into his lap, not caring about the mess he makes in the process. The cryptid laughs, hugs him close.

“I, I shoulda said something sooner too. Not that I regret how we spent our first date.” He kisses Josephs chin.

“Me neither, though I don’t think it quite counts.” He rubs their foreheads together, “can your boyfriend take you out to dinner on Friday?”

Barclay grins, looks into loving, blue eyes, “Yeah, he can.”