#but my own head is a bit fuzzy from lack of sleep and stress

[selenelavellan]

Wildlife Rehab AU: hurt/comfort with a side of fluff?

HWRC Redux AU

One Two  Three  Four

Really more of a sickfic, but there’s plenty of fluff. Mostly just silly cuddling shenanigans. I skipped right over all the plot angst to get here

Dirthamen (mentioned), Fear, and Deceit are @feynites

It starts with a sneeze.

“Ugh,” Des drawls, dressed only ina very loosely tied robe embroidered with what Selene is pretty sure areactual golden flower petals as he greets her by their entrance to the crossroads. “Didthe germ monsters get to you again?”

“They’re just kids,” Selene sniffs,wiping at her nose with a fresh tissue from her bag. “I had akindergarten class this morning. It’s probably just something goingaround,”

“Why are you still substituting?”Des sighs, leaning dramatically against her for a brief moment beforeshe knocks against him with her shoulder. “Your partners have givenyou a literal castle of magic. Whaton Earth could you want besides that?”

“Myown source of income for financial dependence for one,” Selene saysas they move through the grounds and towards the castle itself. “Onefoot still in the real world, for another. I still can’t believe youquit.”

“Welive in a magical castle that doesn’t even need dusting,Selene. There’s always food, and Dirthamen gave me an entire teamof personal tailors -side note, I may have accidentally introducedcrop tops to the culture so look out for that- why would I evervoluntarily go back to the life where I had bills and debts andresponsibilities?”

Seleneopens her mouth to argue, but ends up going into a coughing fitinstead, quickly covering her mouth with a fist. Fear steps out fromsome shadowy corner and takes Selenes face in their hand.

“Whatis wrong with you?” They ask.

Seleneblinks and shakes her head out of their grip. “Nothing. Probablyjust allergies. Maybe I’m allergic to the pollen of one of thehundreds of plants youhave here that I’ve never encountered before.”

Dessnickers, but Fear just stares at her as though she has grown anotherhead.�� 

Orsomething else that might be considered strange and unusual to them.

“Ido not understand,” They say flatly.

“She’ssick,” Des snorts.

“Youwere poisoned?” They frown, hair-like feathers on their head risingin alarm. “Do you know what kind? What did it taste like? We shouldhave an antidote somewhere, follow me-”

“Iwasn’t poisoned,” Selene assures them. “I had a class of youngkids today, and occasionally one of the hazards of my job is germacquisition. It’s just the sniffles. I’ll take a hot shower and befine by morning.”

Fearlooks at her as though they do not quite believe her, and wouldrather whisk her off to visit their healers all the same; itcertainly wouldn’t be the first time.

“Thisis….normal?” Fear asks Des dubiously.

“Yeah,”Des shrugs. “You’ve been around for millenia, you’ve never seensomeone get sick?”

“Wedo not have these sorts of illness,” Fear frowns. “Isthere….how do you expunge it from your system?”

“Time,”Selene says with a small sniff. “There’s medicines, but mostly theyjust hide the symptoms. Besides, it could still be nothing. Iwouldn’t worry about it.”

Feardoes not push the subject.

Theyregret it by morning.

Selenestumbles out of her overly extravagant bed, furs and blankets wrappedtightly around her form as her feet make contact with the harsh coldof the floor.

“Uggh….”She groans, fumbling around the room until she finds her phone in herbag, slowly searching for her works number. “Moira…?Yeah….yeah, again, m'sorry….yeah….yeah….ok, thanks…youtoo.”

Shehas just managed to fall back into her bed when there is a loud knockon her door.

Grumblingall the way, still wrapped up in blankets and resenting that no onehere seems to make socks, shefinally opens the door.

“Plaguebearer,” Des accuses from the entry way, wrapped in his ownblanket. “I’m in a land where people can shapeshift and haveimmortal endurance, and you’ve gone and turned me into a mucusfactory. The man who draws mybaths screamed when hesaw me this morning, and not in our usual fun sort of way, but thatsort of ‘oh no im going to die’ sort of way.”

Selenecoughs and moves out of the way as he enters her room. “Well youknow me; becoming a walking symbol of pestilence is just my overlycomplicated way of flipping off my father.”

“Couldn’tyou have taken a more stereotypical approach to your daddy issues?”

“I’mgoing to sneeze directly on you, and you are going to deserveit.”

Theybicker all the way back into her bed, and Selenes head has finallyhit her pillow when there is yet another round of knocks.

“I’mnot getting up again,” she declares before yelling for the personto let themselves in.

It isFear.

Featherhair thin, eyes somehow more sunken in than usual, and the bottomhalf of their body still talon-like and looking like a ratherpoorly-fed harpy.

“Ido not like these germs; please take them back.”

Desbreaks out into a fit of laughter, broken up by thick, wet coughs.“There’s a bird flu joke in here somewhere, wait, wait, let me findit…”

Selenesighs and pats at the space beside her on the bed.

“Timeis the only cure I’m afraid. Cuddling and affection can help though.And naps. Lots of naps.”

“Andliquids,” Des adds.

“Doyou have orange juice here?”

“Iwill have Deceit fetch us some,” Fear grumbles, settling againstSelenes side. Their usual lower body temperature is still present,and it feels wonderful against her skin, so she opens up her blanketcocoon and pulls them directly against her.

Theystiffen, and she hums against their head. “You are very cool,” Sheadmits. “It feels really nice. Do you mind?”

Thereis a beat of silence before they relax against her. “If it helps,it is fine.”

Thethree of them drift off back to sleep easily, fatigue already caughtup to them for the day.

Seleneisn’t sure exactly how long it’s been when she feels Deceit crawlagainst her back.

“You’regoing to get sick,” She warns them quietly.

“Sickdoesn’t seem so bad,” They muse, face nuzzled into the crook of herneck. Their own body temperature has changed to match Fears, so shedoesn’t argue the point, allowing them to make a barrier between theunusually high temperature she and Des were already radiating.

“Wecan not both be sick,” Fear gripes from their own space.

“Thenit is my turn,” Deceit argues.

“TheGreat Aspect will be too distracted-”

“Youhave been cuddling her for hours,it is my turn-”

“Iam incapacitated andvulnerable, it ishardly a vacation-”

“Youare relaxed for the first time in centuries, are you really trying tofool me-”

“Ohmy gods you two really are just like birds arguing outside a windowat too-fuckin’-early o'clock, you know that?” Des interrupts,apparently unhappy at being pulled out of his own slumber. “Did youbring me juice?”

“Itis on the table,” Deceit says sheepishly.

Desrises from the bed with a yawn, blowing his nose out into a tissueand tossing it into a nearby trash bin with a disgusted face. Hedoesn’t bother pulling on his robe or taking his blankets, insteadtelling Selene it’s 'just too hot for clothes’ while practicallychugging down his orange juice.

“I’mmarried now, I’m not giving you pity sex,” She grumbles back, stillhalf dazed.

Fearmurmurs something into her chest she can’t quite make out, buttightens their own hold on her. Long bony fingers press against theskin of her back, and she gives them a reassuring kiss on the head inreturn.

Deceitfeels positively put out (and adjusting to aura’s has been a wholeother adventure she regrets now, the buzz of magic in the roomonly adding to her disorientation) and ends up nudging Selene to situp so that she can drink her own glass of juice.

Shethanks them, sitting up and nudging Fear to do the same while Deceitslings themselves over her back.

“Isthis what you normally do when you are 'sick’?” they ask her.

“Mostly,”She admits “This and watch TV. Cooking shows or movies orsomething. It’s soothing, somehow.”

“Doyou want me to get you a TV?” They ask.

Seleneblinks, looking at their surroundings, mind still in a bit of a fog.

“Wouldwe…how would you power it?”

“I’llfigure that part out,” They say dismissively. “But you would feelbetter with your television?”

“Isure would,” Des chimes in.

Deceitlooks at them un-impressively (still bitter about the door incident,she thinks), and turns back to Selene expectantly.

“Iwouldn’t mind it,” She tells them.

Deceitnods, and dashes off.

Shefalls back into bed with Fear curled into her chest and Des at herback, dozing back to sleep again.

Thesun is very high in the sky when she wakes again, Deceit radiatingpride as they gesture to the television.

Thatis not her television,by any means.

Shetells them as much.

“Thisone is better,” They tell her. “It is bigger, and the picturequality is much more impressive.”

“Didyou pay for it?” sheasks pointedly.

Deceitfrowns. “…Yes.”

Shepurses her lips, squinting at them slightly.

“Youshouldn’t worry about it so much,” They finally say, scooting backonto the bed as it turns on. There is a remote in their hands, andthe familiar opening of The Princess Bride starts playing on thescreen in front of them.

Selenesnorts, and Des lets out a grumbling groan about needing to showDeceit that Other Movies Exist before he scoots his head into theirlap all the same.

Deceitlooks about ready to push him back out until Selene adjusts to leanagainst their shoulder, Fear safely settled and dozing in her ownlap, legs tangled up beneath the sheets they had nearly kicked off intheir sleep.

“Youstill might get sick,” She warns Deceit as their arm settles overher shoulder.

“That’salright,” They hum. “Next time you can get me the juice.”

[hogwartsmarvelmommy]

The lighthouse that guided me H.H ❤️🔥

~Best friends brother  

I do not grant permission for anything of mine to be copied or redistributed even if recognition is given. All rights reserved to Hogwartsmarvelmommy © 2021.

🌼🌸Masterlist🌼🌸

this is 18+ only!

word count: 9.9k

(HarryHollandXReader)

summery: Sam knew you and his brother would hit it off, so he made you promise to not fall in love with his twin... easier said than done. 

Warnings: Swearing, miscarriage, blood, smut. (additional warnings under the cut)

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (F & M receiving) fingering, some dirty talk (But like not really) protected sex. 

A/N: ok... i really only planned for this to be like 2-3k words, but i just couldn't stop... hope you like it :)

~ 

It was the insistent pounding that woke you up. The first thought in your head was how you were going to kill him for interrupting a perfectly good dream.  With a loud, rather dramatic groan you rolled out of bed and flung open your door. Sam looked like he was stressed beyond belief. Pushing past you, he came into the room plopping down onto your bed and groaning before burying his face in his hands. This was not a sight you were used to, usually your best friend was a happy go lucky guy, but right now he seemed to be anything but.  

"Sam, what's wrong?" Suddenly all the anger from being awoken so early left you, seeing him in distress was bad enough. You closed your door and went over to him, crouching down in front of him, hoping the boy would talk to you so you could offer some sort of help.

"There coming," he groaned. Who was he talking about? Who was coming? You were about to ask when he spoke up again, "my brothers want to see where I live and go to school, there on a plane now," 

You felt all that worry dissipate instantly. Did he seriously wake you up at the ass crack of dawn because his brothers wanted to come spend some quality time with him on his free week. Why did he always have to be so dramatic? 

With a roll of your eyes you let out a chuckle. "Seriously Sammy? That's what's wrong?" 

"Y/n, they're going to judge all of this," you looked around your room, there was nothing out of the ordinary really, just a bed, a dresser and some random nick knacks. 

"My room?" You asked, confused. 

"No, our apartment,"  he said. You were a bit taken aback. Yes your apartment was rather small and lacked a lot of decor, but for two broke college kids it was what you could do.

“What is wrong with the apartment?” you asked him, verging on offended. You had put in a lot of effort to make the place your own. From the beer bottle wreath on the pantry door to the pong wall of champions. It wasn't much but it was home, and that's what mattered. 

“I need to tell you something,” he sighed slightly looking up to you. “I come from a very well off family, and i am nowhere near broke, i just don't want to flaunt the money i have around,” you weren't sure you'd heard him right, the boy you'd lived with for three years, who you considered your closest and best friend was telling you he was in fact not broke? When there had been times you ate microwave noodles for lack of anything else in the house.

“So you have money?” you asked, your confusion was evident in your tone. 

“I'm sorry,” he sighed. 

“Why would you lie about that?” You wondered. You were taken aback at your best friend's confession. Confused and a little hurt were just the brink of it. Why did he think he had to lie to you? After all this time?

“It was easier. I didn't want to worry about anyone just befriending me because of money,” He explained. You rolled your eyes, not sure if that was an acceptable explanation, but for now it was what you were getting. 

“Well where are your brothers staying?” You asked him. 

He sighed in relief at the fact that you weren't completely ripping him a new one. “Can they take your room, and you can crash in mine?” He suggested.

“Absolutely not!” You exclaimed.

“Y/N!” he groaned out. 

“You give them your room and you take the futon in the living room,” You told him, smacking his cheek lightly. 

“You're the worst,” He groaned. “But I need a favor,” he muttered.

“I swear if you ask me-” 

“Can you take me to pick them up at the airport?” He interrupted. 

“And he asked it,” You sighed walking out of the room. 

“Y/N? Is that a yes?” He called out after you. 

“Fine Sam, but you owe me big!” You exclaimed before shutting the bathroom door. 

You had met Sam your first day at the University, and instantly the two of you had clicked. You oftentimes would say the two of you were half-soulmates, like half of your soul was Sam’s but the other half you hadn't meant quite yet. You understood Sam, and he understood you, and it was easy. You knew he had brothers, but mostly when he'd get time off school he would fly from Scotland back to London to visit them instead of vice versa.

So despite spending most of the last four years together, you had never met them. 

You got yourself showered and put together before going to find Sam, who was a mess. “You look like a train hit you,” You told him as you stood in his doorway. 

“Y/N, that's not helpful,” He groaned. 

“Well let's go get your brothers,” you announced, grabbing your car keys from the counter. 

“Wait,” He exclaimed. You turned to look at him, waiting to hear what he had to say. “I need you to promise me something,” He muttered. 

“What?” 

“My brother, Harry, my twin. I need you to promise you won't fall in love with him,” He told you. You nearly doubled over laughing, you couldn't imagine falling in love with anyone, much less someone related to the Div you called your best friend. 

“Yeah I'm sure that won't be a problem,” You chuckled. 

“Y/N, i’m serious, the instant you guys meet you're going to click, and if you think me and you have a lot in common, i can promise you, that Harry and you will have more,” He explained. You realized he was completely serious. 

“OK Sammy, i'll do my best to not fall in love with your twin brother,” You nodded at him. He took a deep breath before finally walking towards you. 

“Let's do this,” He muttered. 

~

The airport was crowded, much like you had expected, but you still found yourself trudging through the packed areas to the waiting area to wait for Sam's brothers. “When is their plane set to land?” you wondered looking up at the screen that had all the flight information. 

“They just landed. Tom texted me to let me know,” He told you as he stood waiting impatiently. 

“Why are you so nervous? There only your brothers Sammy,” you tried to get him to calm down. 

“Look at that mane!” You heard from a group of people that had just entered the waiting area from the landing pad. You saw the color drain from your best friends face as he turned and saw a curly haired boy coming at him. Sam opened his arms as the boy crashed into him, hugging him tight and muttering things back and forth to each other. 

“Did you have to leave me?” A man asked as he walked up to the three of you, glancing at you and flashing you a smile before throwing his own arms around the already hugging pair. 

The three of them hugging was cute, and it made you wonder why Sam was so nervous in the first place to have them here, since he looked so happy now. 

“Ok, Guys this y/n, my best friend and roommate,” Sam told them, turning the two boys' attention over to you. 

"Hi," you mumbled, feeling rather shy suddenly. 

"You weren't joking when you sai-" Sam smacked Harry in the back of the head before he could finish what he was saying. "I meant hi," he told you, extending his hand out to you. 

You took his hand in yours, noting how attractive his hands were. His grip was tight as he shook your hand, staring into your eyes with the most breathtaking brown orbs you had ever seen. You weren't even aware you could think brown eyes were so beautiful. His curls had fallen to his forehead, giving him a boyish look, but dear God did he pull it off. No wonder Sam had asked you to not fall in love with his brother, just looking at him had your stomach in butterflies. You let go of his hand, looking away hoping your best friend wouldn't pick up on how easily you were taken aback by his brother.

The older boy 'Tom' extended his hand as well shaking yours and saying hello, before the four of you headed down to the baggage claim. 

Both boys found their bags quickly and then it was off to your car. "Shotgun," Harry yelled as you unlocked the door. 

"What? No!" Sam argued.

"You snooze, you lose Sammy, and it looks like you just lost," you laughed as Harry smirked triumphantly, throwing his bag into the trunk before sliding into the front seat. You knew Sam was nervous to get back to the flat. Worried that maybe his brothers would judge you based on the appearance of your place. 

You parked the car and led the boys up to your place, unlocking it and slipping inside. 

"Wall of champions huh?" Tom asked as he admired the drunk scribbles of the pong wall. 

"Me and Sammy boy are undefeated," you announced proudly pointing to the top where your names were scribbled out. 

"No," Harry laughed, shaking his head, "there is no way, Sam is awful, and has never won. Ever!" 

"Board doesn't lie, red," you told him, shooting Sam a smile. 

"Prove it," Harry said. 

You looked at Sam who had a mischievous look plastered on his face, neither of you were ones to back down from a challenge. So you spent the early afternoon drinking and Whooping Sam's brothers asses at beer pong. Easily.

"She carries you," Tom told Sam as he dropped himself onto the futon.

"Does not!" Sam argued with a laugh. 

"No she does," Harry confirmed.

"Oh piss off," Sam laughed, shoving his way in-between his brothers on the sad excuse for a couch you had. "We need a new couch," he groaned. 

"Let's go shopping for one," Tom said randomly. 

"We're drunk," you pointed out. 

"We can Uber," Tom laughed. You rolled your eyes but reluctantly agreed. 

~

You stood in your living room in your fuzzy pajama pants and tank top staring at the giant couch that was now taking up a majority of the room and the two sleeping boys on it. 

"We actually did that?" Sam groaned, walking out of his room in only boxers. "I've never been so drunk in my life," 

"Day drinking for the win," you told him, holding your fist up for him to bump. The prior night consisted of way too much drinking and then shopping at furniture stores, before going to a pub for more drinking. If you were honest with yourself, you didn't even recall getting the sectional into the apartment. 

Your head was pounding and you felt like you had been hit by a bus. So you opted to exclude yourself from any activities Sam had planned for him and his brothers, and instead spend the day catching up on your studies. 

You found yourself sprawled out on the new couch with books around you as you worked on your laptop. Regardless of the fact it was a drunk purchase, you had to admit the couch was pretty comfortable. 

You didn't realize you had fallen asleep until you were woken up by someone moving beside you. You sat up watching as Harry settled in. He glanced over to you and sighed. 

"Sorry I was trying to avoid waking you," he said apologetically. 

"S'ok, where's Sam and Tom?" You asked. 

"Club," he chuckled. You rolled your eyes, before grabbing the books from next to you and setting them onto the table. 

"You didn't want to go?" You asked. 

"Not in the mood," he said, smiling at you. You felt a tad guilty about being happy Harry had chosen to not go, opting instead to hang out with you. Sam had been right, you and Harry had A LOT in common, so talking and joking with him came almost naturally. He radiated positivity, it was like if he was a color, it was yellow 100%

After a couple hours of talking about everything you could think of, the room fell silent. "Let's go on an adventure," Harry suggested.

"An adventure?" You wondered. 

"Why not?" He laughed. 

"I'm not very adventurous," you admitted coyly. 

"That's ok, we'll figure something out. Let's just drive until inspiration strikes,"he said, standing up and extending his hand for you to take. 

Your decision to say yes was probably where everything went wrong, but looking back.. you would do everything the same if you were given a second chance.  

~

You parked your car on the side of the lake. Looking over at Harry with a skeptical look. "You gonna back out?" He asked. 

"Harry, it's only like 68° out here," you reminded him. He nodded with a smile before opening the door and getting out of the car. Somehow both of the Holland twins had a way of convincing you to do crazy things. 

You got out, feeling the chill of the air make goosebumps raise on your skin. "Harry, I'm not sure about this," you admitted walking towards where he was now standing on the dock. 

"Me either, but it's not an adventure without a little hesitation," he told you. 

"Who told you that?" You asked, laughing. He thought about it for a minute and shrugged. 

"Ok, let's do it," he told you, giving you a nod. You sighed nodding back before slowly peeling your pants down your legs and then your shirt over your head. You took a deep breath before removing your underwear and then unclipping your bra. 

You stood completely naked staring out at the ice cold water, not daring to look at the boy beside you, no matter how badly you wanted to. You felt his fingers interlace with yours. “Ready?” He asked. 

“Nope. let's do it,” You told him, squeezing his hand. You followed his movements. As soon as his body lunged forward, yours followed, hitting the icy water almost instantly. It felt as if there were pins and needles poking you on every inch of your body, and when you finally came back up to the surface, you gasped trying to catch your breath, your body tensed up from the shock of the temperature. 

"Adventures. Are. Dumb." You shuttered. You could see Harry's teeth catering together.

"That. That was stupid," he admitted swimming back to the dock and pulling himself out. He reached out his hand, grabbing yours and hoisting you back onto the dock.

"Remind me to never go on an adventure with you again," you laughed, before realizing something. "We don't have towels," 

Harry's eyes widened, "no we don't," you stood on the dock, completely naked trying to shield your body. 

"I have a blanket in my hatch. We can turn on the heater and sit under it until we're dry," you offered. 

"That sounds good," he told you before grabbing the clothes from the ground. You rushed to your car, opening the trunk and jumping in. Luckily you had left the keys in the ignition, so all it took was you leaning over the seat to crank on the car. Forgetting about your completely exposed state. Harry pulled the hatch closed as he crawled into the car, tossing the clothes into the back seat and unfolding the blanket. You plopped down beside him, pulling the corner to cover yourself, hoping the heater would warm the two of you up fast. 

After a few (awkward) moments, Harry finally spoke up. "You have a nice body," he said quietly. You felt your cheeks heat up at his words. 

"Harry, were you looking at my naked body?" You joked, knowing it would have been impossible for him to have not seen you. 

"I mean, when I came to crawl in you were bent over the back seat. Like on full display. Would have been hard to not look," he laughed, turning away to hide the blush that was gracing his ears and cheeks. "This trunk is roomy," he said, trying to change the subject. 

"Me and Sam had to sleep in here once, hence the blanket," you told him. 

"So you two?" Harry wondered. 

"No, never. He's like my half-soulmate, like in a friendly way, you know?" You asked.

"Well he's my womb mate so kind of," he admitted. You couldn't help but laugh. "You know, we will probably warm up faster, if we're closer," Harry said shyly. His logic was right, but you were worried about your self control. 

"Yeah, ok," you mumbled, scooting closer, until your leg was touching his.

"Can I put my arm around you?" He asked. You nodded quickly. You let out a sigh of relief at his warmth,as you let yourself snuggle into his body, being cautious not to place your hands anywhere questionable.

It was nice. It was strangely intimate as well. "Sam told us you were beautiful, but I can't believe how breathtaking you are," Harry said quietly after a few minutes. You glanced up to his face, his eyes were closed, and it seemed like he was trying to focus on his breathing. 

"Are you just saying that because you have seen me naked?" You asked. He laughed, before opening his eyes and looking at you. 

His eyes met yours, and it was like you were each seeing something you had been looking for for way too long. You saw his eyes shift down to your lips.  

"No, Y/N, you are just breathtaking, clothes and all," he told you, brushing stray hairs from your face. 

Your next movements were slow. You glanced down to his lips, and back to his eyes before slowly leaning in, giving him plenty of time to curve your movements, but he didn't. Instead he followed them.

"We shouldn't," you whispered, faces so close you could feel his breath on your lips. 

"I know," he told you. You bit your bottom lip, before looking into his eyes. There was something about Harry, something that was throwing all your inhibitions out the window. All you could think about was how his lips would feel on yours. His hand reached up, rubbing his thumb across your face, you closed your eyes and leaned in, closing the distance between your lips. 

The second your lips met you felt something ignite in you. He kissed you slowly, not rushing into anything. His lips were soft and warm, and made you melt into him. Turning your body more, your naked chest pressed against his as your fingers laced themselves in the curls on the base of his neck. 

As he rested his hand on your waist, squeezing lightly, as he deepened the kiss. 

His tongue swiped across your lower lip, looking for access, which you quickly granted. You leaned back as his lips found themselves trailing your jaw and to your neck. 

"Sam will kill us," you let out, as you threw your head back giving him more access to your neck. 

"Let him," he mumbled into your neck, before continuing his task. You knew you should stop him. This was the first step, in the wrong direction. Harry was someone you could easily fall in love with, and if you stopped now, you could pretend this naked, heated, makeout session had never happened. But then his hand slid down from your waist to your thigh, as he pushed you farther back onto your back. 

You pulled his face back to yours, reconnecting your lips with his in a hungry kiss. 

You continued the heated kissing for a while, letting yourself lose control, something that did not come easily for you. 

"Harry," you moaned into his lips, making him lift his head. 

"Tell me what you want darling," he told you, face red from kissing you. You pushed him up and over so he was sitting again. 

"Do you want me?" You asked. He nodded quickly, grabbing your waist to pull you over to him. You threw one of your legs over his, and let him get himself situated, grabbing his hard member and lining it up to your entrance. You let yourself sink down slowly onto him, enjoying the initial feeling of him filling you up. 

"Christ, y/n, you're so tight," he groaned, as he bottomed out on top of him. you leaned forward resting your head on his shoulder, getting used to the stretch he was giving you, before you started to move slowly. He kept his hands on your hips, helping you with your moviments, but never forcing them, letting you choose the speed of your thrusts. 

Harry peppered your neck with kisses as you held onto him, letting little moans and whines escape your mouth as you rode him slowly. 

He whispered sweet nothings to you, making you lose it, hearing you were 'perfect' and 'so beautiful,' 

"M'So close," you moaned out, as your movements became more rigid. 

"I've got you darling," Harry whispered as he took over, and began thrusting up into you, he let his hand slip between your body's, finding your bundle and rubbing it as he thrust into you. "Oh god," you groaned, throwing your head back. 

"Let go for me darling," he said as he pressed open mouth kisses to your neck. 

As soon as you felt him twitch inside of you, you felt the band in your stomach snap. You felt yourself convulsing around him as his thrusts became sloppy and slowed, having hit his peak with you. 

You let your forehead rest against his, both of your breathing heavy. "Wow," you whispered. 

"I think I like adventures with you," he chuckled, making you roll your eyes before kissing him again. 

~

Your eyes opened to the light streaming through the window. At first you were confused at the amount of windows surrounding you, and then it hit you. 

"Oh god," you groaned, sitting up. 

"What?" Harry gasped, sitting straight up. 

"We fell asleep," you told him as you rustled around you to find your clothes. "I don't know where my clothes are," you groaned. Harry placed a hand on your check, turning your face to him. 

"Back seat darling," he told you, before leaning in and kissing you. He pulled away sooner than you would have liked and reached over the seat grabbing the clothes from last night. 

You both dressed quickly, moving to the front of the car. The drive home wasn't a long one, and you were relieved when you arrived home to find that neither Sam or Tom were there. 

"So," Harry said as you poured both of you a glass of water. 

"What?" You giggled sliding it over to him. 

"Last night was incredible for me, and I don't do the sleeping with random people thing," he told you.

"And you think I do?" You asked him.

"What? No!" He told you, nearly spitting out his water. You couldn't help but laugh. "I just mean, that I'd like to do it again, maybe take you out as well, get to know you more," he told you, reaching for your hand. You laced your fingers with his, blushing as a smile spread across your face. 

"I'd like that," you whispered. Harry went to move around the counter, but as soon as he got off the stool the front door swung open and a very hungover Sam and an amused Tom came in. Pushing whatever moment you were having to the back burner. 

"You let him get pissed?" You asked Tom as you rushed over to your best friend who looked like death. 

"To be fair, I tried to stop him multiple times, but he kept telling me 'I'm in college I can handle my booze'" Tom laughed.

"Sammy," you groaned as you pushed him onto the couch. 

"Sorry mom," he mumbled as his eyes fluttered shut. 

You rolled your eyes at how dumb he could be. 

"What did you guys do last night?" Tom asked, walking over to where Harry was in the kitchen. 

"Went on a late night adventure," Harry told him, avoiding eye contact. 

"Oh yeah? What did you do?" Tom repeated. 

"Nothing really," Harry mumbled, trying to avoid Tom. But Tom knew Harry better than anyone. 

"Harry?" Tom asked, making the boy look at him. 

Tom gasped, looking from Harry over to you and then back. "Tell me you didn't Baz," Tom groaned. 

"Didn't want?" You asked, confused.

"You two had sex," tom whisper yelled. 

Your eyes grew wide and you could feel your cheeks heating up, "how would you gather that by just looking at him?" You demanded. 

"Sex glow," Tom explained. 

You snorted before rolling your eyes. "Oh whatever," you told him, not buying it.

"So you didn't then?" Tom asked, looking directly at Harry, who's cheeks immediately reddened. "Jesus you two, Sam is going to be livid," he informed you. 

"We're not going to tell him," Harry said quickly, to which you agreed just as quickly. 

Tom shook his head, "was it just the one shag? Or are there feelings?" Tom asked. You looked at Harry and bit your lip. He nodded before speaking back up. "Just the one shag, no feelings at all, " he lied. 

~

You sat in the driver's seat of your car, waiting.  Memories flooding your mind of that night weeks prior. You glanced down at your phone, checking the time again. You were being impatient, but to be fair you had been waiting for this for a long time, too long. Having had to accept secret calls and texts as enough for the time being. But now it was time, you somehow managed to clear up a weekend, and he happened to be free, and now you were going to sneak away, and not be a secret for just a few days, not have to hide behind a screen, or be a distant voice. 

Your phone began to buzz in your lap and you looked down to see the contact name you had changed a few weeks ago “My baz <3”

“You here?” you asked, bringing it up to your ear.

“Just landed. Am I getting my bag and heading out to you?” he wondered. 

“Yup. and then we will have two whole days uninterrupted, just us, in a virbo, naked, and sweaty and-” you were cut off by his laughing.

“Someone is clearly eager,” he told you.

“Fuck, i messed you sweetheart” he told you. 

“Yes i am, the phone sex and sexting isn't doing it for me, I've literally had the real thing baby. Now I want it again, so hurry up so we can get out of town,” you groaned, as there was a knock on your window. You jumped, and turned to see him standing at your door, red curls crazy from a cat nap he had surly taken on the flight over, and a smile so big you could drown in it. You jumped from the car throwing yourself into his already full arms, making him drop his duffel bag, but he didn't seem to mind. He wrapped his arms around your waist lifting you up in his hug, and burying his face in your neck. 

You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat. 

"Let's go," you urged him, impatient for what you knew was to come later. You began the hour-long drive to the weekend rental you had gotten for the two of you. Making sure you would be alone, and able to not be bothered by anything. Or so you thought. 

"Sam's calling you," Harry said as you turned another corner.

"What, why? He thinks I'm with my dad for the weekend," you told Harry. Looking down at your phone. Harry shrugged. 

You answered the phone hoping it was nothing. 

"Hello?"

"Hey, I uh, have a problem," Sam sounded worried.

"What?" You asked. 

"I wanted to make sure it was okay that I invited Harry to stay with us for the two weeks we have off of school next month, because I already invited him.. and I totally forgot to ask," he muttered. You felt a smile grow on your lips. 

"I don't know Sam, I'm not sure me and Harry got on well," you joked, peaking Harry's interest. 

"Really?" Sam asked. 

"Yeah, I just thought he was annoying and I'm pretty sure he didn't like me at all," you told him. Harry started to shake his head and roll his eyes. "I am fine with it Sammy," 

"You sure?" Sam wondered. "Cause I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable by any means,"

"Positive," you confirmed 

"How's spending time with your dad?" He asked you.

"Good, hey look we just got somewhere so I gotta go, call you back later. Love you, bye," you hung up the phone before he could continue any conversation, knowing he would keep you on the phone for an hour if you let him. 

"You love him?" Harry asked. 

"What?" 

"You love Sam?" He repeated.

"Course I do," you smiled at him. 

"He's lucky to have you, you're a good friend," he told you. Your brows furrowed as you looked over to him. 

"Is that what we are? Friends?" You asked.  You parked the car in front of the house and turned to look at Harry. 

"Do you want to be more?" He Wondered. 

"I mean, the way I feel about you, I don't feel about any of my other friends," you whispered. 

"And how do you feel?" He asked.

"Well, when I see that you're calling or texting me I get this feeling in my stomach, it's like an insistent fluttering, that never goes away, as long as I'm talking to you, gets me all flustered and nervous. And when you told me you were going to be able to come this weekend, I was so excited, because it meant I could spend even a second with you alone." You smiled at him before biting your lip, "I really like you," 

"I like you too y/n, more than I think I've ever liked anyone," he told you, reaching his hand out to caress your cheek. "And because of that I've had something on my mind," 

"Oh yeah? You asked 

"Yeah, I mean I know it won't make much of a difference since we'll still have to keep it a secret, but I'd really like it if you were my girlfriend," he told you, his cheeks flushed red as he watched you closely for a reaction. 

You leaned in close, nearly touching his lips with your own, "I would love to be your girlfriend," you whispered before closing the space between you in a kiss. 

Everything with Harry was easy, even though the situation was strange, and the secrets and lying were hard, everything felt natural. Every Time you talked to him it felt like home, and you knew you were in over your head. If you had hoped to not fall in love with him, you absolutely would have been let down by yourself. You knew you were going to hell for lying to Sam, but you couldn't change the way you felt, and although you wished you weren't hurting him, you didn't regret anything you had going on with his twin brother. 

~

You entered the little rental house, surprised at how cute and quaint the decor was. It had a very boho chic feel to it, there was a four poster bed in the middle of the room with sheer curtains streaming down. There was a little sectional in the corner with a television in front of it, and a little kitchenette to the right of the room. The owners had left a fresh vase of roses on the little table along with a basket that had chocolates and a few other things inside. 

“This is romantic,” Harry said, as he looked around the room. 

“The pictures were cute, and it had good reviews, i didn't expect this though,” you admitted. 

Harry walked over to the bed, pushing the drape to the side and looking towards you. “Come test it out with me?” He asked. You rolled your eyes at him, but went over, slipping off your shoes and climbing onto the bed (Which felt like a cloud)

“It's nice,” you hummed as you let your body sink into the mattress. 

“Be nicer, if i wasn't so constricted by these clothes,” he told you, making you look over to see his smirking face. 

“Oh yeah?” you asked, turning to face him. 

“Oh yeah,” he repeated, raising his eyebrows at you. He adjusted himself to his side so he was facing you now. 

“What are you thinking about?” you whispered. 

“That night,” he muttered, “The way you looked, riding me, falling apart on my cock. How tight your pussy was and the way it clenched around me while I whispered sweet nothings in your ear,” your eyes widened in shock at the filth of his words. 

“Harry,” you giggled. 

“Come on, you know you have been thinking of it.  I know I can't get the sound of your moans out of my head, the small whimpers you were letting out with every stroke of my cock on your g spot,” you felt your walls clench around nothing at his words. He knew what he was doing, and he was doing it well. “I just wish we had had more time that night, I could have had you whimpering if I had been given the chance. I would have filled you up good with my fingers, and eaten you like you were my last meal,” he whispered. 

You closed your eyes, trying to keep from letting off how unbelievably aroused you were. You had rushed straight to the point the last time you and Harry had been left alone, but now.. There was no rush, no time crunch, you had all night, and all weekend to give into your sexual desires. Lord knows you have already given into your emotional ones. 

“Show me,” you challenged, stealing a glance at the way his mouth widened with your words. He pushed himself up onto his knees in between your legs, grabbing your ankles and pulling you down the bed and closer to him. “Harry,” you giggled. 

He ran his hands up your clothed legs, and up your body, until he was leaning over you, his face close enough that you could smell his shampoo and feel his breath fanning across your lips. “Want to make you feel good,” he whispered. 

“Do it then,” you groaned, arching your back up and into a kiss. His hands found your waist, sliding them under your shirt as he kissed you like his life depended on it. He slowly pushed your shirt up until it was pooled above your breasts and he then pulled the fabric of your bra down, taking your already pebbled nipple between his fingers and rolling it, which made a slight moan escape from your mouth. 

“Can I take these off?” he asked. You nodded quickly, sitting slightly up so he could remove the shirt. He reached behind you to unclasp your bra, but not without a little struggle. When he finally managed to get it undone, he slid the straps down your arms tossing it to the side, before dipping his head down, and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You let out a loud gasp at the sensation, as your hands instinctively found themselves tangled in his auburn curls. He made sure to do the same to the other breast before trailing open mouth kisses down your stomach and stopping at your waistband of your leggings. Glancing up to you for permission, which you nodded, overly eager for him. He hooked his finger in the waistband peeling your leggings and underwear down in one sweep. He could see how wet you already were for him, from the glistening sheen of your cunt.  

He ran two fingers through your folds, stopping at your clit and pushing down. “Oh,” you moaned out at the unexpected pressure. 

“So wet for me darling,” Harry whispered.

“I have been waiting for this,” you admitted, looking up to see him smirking at you. 

“Oh you have?” He asked, pulling his fingers almost all the way out before plunging them back in.  He brushed your g spot with the tip of his fingers making you moan out his name and arch your back. “Been waiting for this?” he asked as he continued to finger fuck you. 

“Yes, Harry,” you moaned, as you felt a knot forming in the pit of your stomach. Harry moved his thumb, and you almost whined at the loss of stimulation, until you felt his tongue lick up from above his fingers to your nub, wrapping his lips around it as he began to suck slightly. You were done at that point, and you knew it. “So close har,” you warned, but he didn't falter in his actions in the slightest. Instead he sped them up, pushing you over the edge even faster. With a loud moan of his name, your back arched off the mattress and your toes curled, as you felt an explosion of bliss. Harry continued his movements through your orgasm, only slowing and coming to a stop when your legs quit shaking and you seemed to relax. 

“Fuck, y/n. You're bloody perfect,” he mumbled, bringing his lips to yours, you could taste yourself on his lips, but you didn't even mind. All you could focus on was the fact that he was way overdressed, for the activities you wanted to partake in. you grabbed at the hem of his shirt, and he broke away from the kiss to allow you to pull the shirt over his head. 

You took a second to admire his bare chest, he was muscular, but  wasn't overly defined, and he, well he was perfect. 

“You're breathtaking, you know?” You told him, making him turn a shade of red. 

“Shut up,” he giggled, before reconnecting your lips in another kiss. 

You let your nails graze the naked skin on his back making him groan, and rut his hips against yours. His clothed bulge rubbing against your naked sex. “Take em off,” you instructed. He pushed himself up onto his knees, unbuttoning his jeans, but before he could push them down you sat up grabbing his hands to stop him. “Can i?” you asked. 

He smiled at you before nodding. You pushed his jeans down as much as you could, you could see the outline of his cock that was straining against his boxers. You leaned forward, placing an open mouthed kiss on the fabric. “Fuck,” harry groaned. You looked up at him through your eyelashes to see him looking down at you.

“Want me to..” you asked. 

“Yes, fuck yes. If you want to, I mean,” he stuttered out. You smiled up at him, pushing the fabric of his boxers down until his cock was free of the restraint. You took his length in your hand, pumping it a few times, as you licked your lips and leaned forward, taking him in your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down as you worked what your mouth couldn't take with your hand. Harry held onto your hair loosely, watching as you sucked him off. “M’close,” he warned you. You continued what you were doing, not caring, he had done it for you, the least you could do was return the favor. You felt him begin to twitch against your tongue, as his grip on your hair tightened and his hips rutted forward, nearly making you gag before you felt him release himself the warm liquid slipping down your throat. You pulled your head back letting him out of your mouth with a pop. 

Harry pushed you back onto the bed, making you giggle at his eagerness. He let his body fall to yours, lips crashing in a deep kiss. His fingers laced with yours above your head as he moved his kisses down your jaw to your throat, sucking lightly, leaving small marks that would be a reminder for days. “Harry, I need you,” You whined. 

He lifted his head smiling, bringing his lips back to yours. His hand slipped between your bodies, lining himself up at your entrance before sinking slowly into you. He slowly thrust into you, setting a slow pace. 

“Faster, baby, please,” you moaned out. He grabbed your thigh lifting it lightly as he began to thrust into you harder. 

“You're so tight,” he groaned, as he began to quicken his movements. You reached down, rubbing your nub as he pounded into you. 

“I'm close,” You told him as you neared your second orgasm. 

He reached down, replacing your fingers with his, “Cum all over my cock darling,” he groaned. His fingers circled your clit, and with one particularly deep thrust, you felt yourself clench around him, as you whimpered at the relief. After a few more movements Harry's hips stilled and his body went limp, laying his head onto your chest. “That was incredible, you are incredible,” he told you as he laid there trying to catch his breath. 

You smiled as your eyes fluttered closed, sleep taking over your overworked body.

~ 

The weekend passed quicker than it had even come, and before you knew it you were kissing Harry goodbye at the airport where you had picked him up two days prior. 

“I wish we had more time,” you whispered as you hugged him, your face buried in the crook of his neck. 

“I'll be here next month, love. Five weeks and we will be back together, promise,” He whispered into your ear, kissing the top of your head. 

“I'll hold you to it,” you told him, kissing his lips one final time before he had to leave. 

“I’m counting on it,” he said, before walking away. Just like that, faster than he had arrived in Scotland, he left for London. 

The drive to your place was quiet, and the whole time you were fighting the urge to cry. You parked your car, and grabbed your bag, noticing a pink sleeve peeking out. You unzipped it, and saw Harry's pink hoodie, that he had probably shoved into your bag after you had practically lived in it and only it for the weekend. You couldn't help but smile to yourself. You shoved the hoodie farther into your bag, zipping it up and heading up to your flat. 

As soon as you opened the door you were hit with the aroma of a home cooked meal. Sam was standing facing the stove, focused on whatever he was stirring. 

“Smells good Sammy,” you said, startling him. 

“Oh good, your home. Come stir this for me,” he instructed holding a spoon out to you. 

"Yes chef," you said, bringing your hand up to your head and saluting him. 

"You're an idiot," he groaned at you. You walked over taking the spoon and began to stir the sauce while he cut up garnish for the top. "How was your weekend with your dad?" He asked. 

"Uh good, busy, but ok," you lied. Seemed like you were doing a lot of that to Sam recently. 

"So you guys worked everything out from that fight?" He asked you. Your eyes grew wide, realizing you had fucked up. You and your dad had gotten into a fight about money, and afterwards he had cut you off, and told you to get your life in order. It had been months since you had spoken.

"No, but we pretended so that my gram wouldn't be upset," you lied again. 

"Oh, that makes sense. I was confused when you said you were going to spend the weekend with him, I thought you might have been lying to me, glad that wasn't the case," he said as he drained the pasta. 

Guilt. That was the only thing you felt. Guilty for being a bad best friend. Guilty for lying. Guilty for not sticking to a promise you had made. You were going straight to hell. 

~

It had been a few days since yours and Harry's weekend, and he was set to be back in a little over a month. You were sitting on the couch, laptop in your lap when the pain started. At first it was a slight pinching sensation, but soon it became like a stabbing pain, and you nearly doubled over from the intensity. You tried to stand up, but let out a groan as the pain increased. Sam looked up, worried filling his face at the sight of you. 

“Y/N? You're bleeding, what's going on?” He asked, as he rushed to your side. You looked down to see a line of blood down both of your legs, and immediately got dizzy. 

“Sammy, I'm gonna pass out,” You warned him. 

“I’m taking you to the doctor,” he told you as he practically carried your limp body down to your car and drove you to the nearby emergency clinic.  

The doctors drew blood and put in an i.v to get fluids into you, all the while Sam never left your side, holding your hand tightly as he knew you hated doctors offices. 

“Okay darling, we're going to run some tests and get to the bottom of why you're feeling so bad,” the nurse told you, as she left the room. Sam sat beside you as you laid in the bed, squeezing your hand lightly. 

“It's alright, you're okay,” he cooed as he stroked your hair. Just then the door opened and a doctor came into the room. 

“Miss, Y/L/N, i have some unfortunate news, it looks like you're experiencing a miscarriage,” your jaw dropped as you heard the words coming from his mouth. You glanced up at Sam who was looking at you with raised eyebrows. 

“I- what?” you asked. Clearly not registering what you had just heard. 

“The HCG levels in your blood make me think you were maybe around ten weeks pregnant, which would explain the extreme blood loss, and the feeling like you were going to faint. The unfortunate thing is that there is not much medically that we can do, so we will send you home. Try and get some rest, take it easy and if you experience any clotting bigger than a golf ball,  come back in. ill have the nurse work up your discharge paperwork,” he turned to exit the room but stopped in the doorway, “I’m sorry guys, i know this must be hard news,” and then he left. 

“You were pregnant?” Sam asked. 

“I guess so,” you mumbled. 

“Who have you slept with? What was ten weeks ago? That was like-” Sams face fell. He looked down at you, “That was our holiday week, ten weeks ago,” He told you. You winced at his insinuation, which in and of itself gave you away. “Tell me you weren't pregnant with my brother's baby y/n?” he sighed. 

You weren't sure if it was being caught in a lie, the hormones coursing through your body, or the fact that you had just been told that you had lost a baby you were never even aware of, but you felt a sudden surge of emotions, as your eyes glossed over. Sam noticed this almost instantly. 

“Shit y/n honey, please don't cry,” he told you, but it was too late as the tears began to spill from your eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” you nearly wailed. Sam pulled you into his arms as you cried your heart out, mumbling things about how ‘awful of a person you were’ and how you ��didn't deserve him in your life���.  

“Y/N, try and breathe, and tell me what happened,” he whispered as soon as your crying settled slightly. So you tried to explain what had happened, where you had gone wrong, and when your heart had been opened to his brother.

~ 

“Are you mad at me?” you asked as Sam tucked you into the couch with your favorite fuzzy blanket. He hadn't said a word to you since you had left the hospital. 

“I am,” he sighed, sitting down beside you. “Y/n, what happens if he hurts you? If he breaks your heart into a million pieces? What happens when I'm forced to choose a side? What happens when I have to choose him over you even if I know he was in the wrong?” he asked, voice cracking, and tears prickling his eyes. “What happens if I lose you over something he does? I'd be crushed, your my best friend, the person i turn to when things are hard, the one who knows me inside and out, the one id trust with my life, but he is my brother, my twin brother, you are like a stranger compared to the way i know him,” 

“Sam-” 

“No, y/n. Just- I can't have this conversation right now, because i want to yell at you, tell you how betrayed i feel, but i can't because this- what your going through, is bigger than what i feel right now,” he stood up pulling his phone from his pocket and walking to the front door. “And that's why I called him,” he said before opening the door. 

You felt tears form in your eyes again at the gesture. Your best friend putting his own feelings to the side to make sure you were ok. Harry stepped inside the house, offering a small smile to Sam who just nodded at him, obviously hurt. Harry went straight to you, pulling you into his arms as you started to cry again, this time it was even worse. 

Harry held you for what felt like hours as you cried until you fell asleep. He placed your body down gently before walking to the kitchen where Sam was standing.

“Mate-”

“No, you don't get to start. Why her? Out of every person in the world, why her?” Sam demanded.

“It just happened,” Harry said.

“That is not a reason,” Sam argued.

“She's it Sam, I don't know,” Harry said.

“You wouldn't have known that had you left her alone,” Sam was verging on pissed at that point.

“No, Sam, you don't understand. I didn't need to know her, the second I saw her in the airport standing beside you, her hair tied up and in that old pearl jam t-shirt. Everything changed, call it a gut feeling, or me being an idiot, but I swear to god Sam, I fell in love with her before she even spoke a word to me,” Harry explained, hearing the words he said for the first time out loud.

“You're in love with her?” Sam asked. 

“Desperately,” he admitted. 

“I'll hurt you, if you hurt her,” Sam warned. 

“I wouldn't expect anything less,” 

“And if she hurts you, well, i cant hurt her but i'll give her an earful,” Sam laughed. 

“I know,” Harry laughed.

“God it had to be my best friend?” Sam asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I'm sorry, the heart wants what it wants,” Harry said. 

“Who are you? Selena Gomez?” Sam asked, hitting his brother's shoulder. “I’m sorry, about the baby,” 

“I didn't even know there was a baby till you called,” He told Sam.

“She didn't know until today. You guys were careful, yeah?” he asked Harry. 

“Uhh,” 

“Harry! You fucking div! condoms man!” Sam groaned. 

“I know it was just-”

“No, no, no. I do not want to hear the specifics of you sleeping with my best friend, just- next time, CONDOMS!” Sam stressed.

“Okay, okay, that's easy enough,” Harry laughed. 

~

“You look nervous,” Sam laughed from the passenger seat of Harry's car. 

“I am,” you told him,

“You have met mum before darling,” Harry reminded you. 

“Yeah, as Sam's roommate and best friend, Not as your girlfriend,” you explained. Your stomach was in knots the entire drive from the airport to the Hollands family home. This was all new territory, sure you and Harry had been together for eight months, but meeting the family was a big feat, even if you had met them all before your relationship had started.

“I promise you will be fine, love” Harry assured you. 

“I'll hold you to that,” You muttered, as he pulled into the driveway of an extremely nice house. You felt your jaw drop, as you glanced around the house, unaware that they had grown up in such a nice place. 

Your door opened, and Harry held out his hand for you to take, which you did. Stepping out of the car and smoothing the bottom of your dress down. “Ready?” Harry asked.

You smiled up at him, “Nope. let's do it,” you squeezed his hand lightly as he pulled you along, Sam following closely behind. 

The inside of the house was just as nice, pictures of the boys lined the walls from when they were tots until now. You heard the pitter patter of paws on the hardwood and looked over to see a blue staffy running towards you. Sam dropped down hugging the dog. 

“Hi Tess, hi darling, oh i missed you too,” You giggled at the sight of the dog smothering Sam in kisses. 

“Just in time,” Niki sang as she rounded the corner. “Oh y/n,” she said, pulling you into her arms. “So glad you could join us for the holidays,” she told you, squeezing your shoulders. 

“Mum,” Harry said. 

“Oh yes, sorry please go ahead,” she giggled while backing up.

“Mum, this is Y/n, my girlfriend,” Harry said, making you shoot him a strange look. 

“Oh so nice to meet you,” she gushed with a giggle.

“What-” 

“He insisted he re-introduce us with your new title,” she explained. You laughed glancing up to see a blush covering his cheeks. 

“You're cute,” you told him, before being whisked away to meet the rest of the Holland crew. 

The night ran late, as you got to know everyone. The whole Holland family was easy to get along with, you spent most of the time laughing at embarrassing childhood stories and telling stories of Sam at school. 

“Are you ready to go?” Harry whispered in your ear when he noticed you had yawned for the third time. You nodded, eyes feeling heavy from the long day. You went around saying your goodbyes to everyone, Sam opting to just head back later. So you and Harry took off to his flat which he shared with Tom and a few friends. 

Once you got to his place, he grabbed your bag, leading you inside, and passed two boys who were occupied in front of a video screen. “You can meet them tomorrow,” He told you as he helped you up the stairs. 

His room was nice, quite what you would expect from a boys room, plain bed, empty dresser, there was a shelf full of movies, and a large tv, but nothing extreme. 

“Can i have a shirt?” You asked. “To sleep in?”

Harry smiled at you before walking over to the dresser and pulling out an old t-shirt. “This one will look nice on you,” He told you. 

“Help me out of these clothes?” you asked. He leaned forward bringing his lips to you as his fingers found the zipper on the back of your dress. He unzipped it slowly, pushing it off your shoulders before it fell to your ankles, revealing the lingerie set you had bought for him. 

“Oh god,” he groaned looking at the black and gold lace that lined your body. 

“You like it?” You asked with a cheeky smile. 

“I'm going to like it even more once it's on my floor,” he told you as he grabbed your bum, lifting you up and carrying you to his bed. He threw you down, and you landed with a giggle as he attacked your neck with kisses, trailing the patterned lace that laid over your breasts with one hand. “The things i want to do to you,” He growled in your ear. 

“Do whatever you want baz, i'm all yours,” You said with a wink. 

“Whatever I want huh? What if I just want to make sweet love to you all night?” He asked, catching you off guard. 

You smiled and brought your thumb up to his mouth tracing his lip and the birthmark right beside it. “Make love to me then,” you whispered. 

Harry bit his bottom lip, as he looked into your eyes. “I love you,” He blurted for the first time. 

You felt your smile grow even wider, as you leaned up, kissing his lips softly. “I love you,” You mumbled into his lips. 

You stayed tangled together, lips clashing, tension burning between you, for a while. 

“Harry,” You moaned into his kiss. 

“Yeah baby?” He asked.

“Make sweet love to me?” You nearly begged. 

He smiled wide, jumping up and walking to his dresser, pulling out a little foil square and tossing it to you before quickly undressing himself. You took the chance to slip out of the lingerie you had on, laying naked and waiting for him. 

He crawled onto the bed next to you. “Sit down,” you told him. 

“Yeah?” He asked excitedly. 

“Yeah,” you told him. 

He sat down, back to the pillows, and legs spread open, waiting for you. You ripped open the condom, rolling it over his member slowly in a teasing manner. “Y/N” he groaned, making you laugh.

“Alright,” You laughed, climbing on top of him, and lining him up to your entrance. 

“This feels familiar,” He whispered as you sank down onto him.

“Going back to the beginning,” you whispered as you began to move slowly. You wrapped your fingers in his hair as you brought your lips to his, letting all the love flow between the two of you. 

“I love you,” Harry mumbled into your lips. 

“I'm in love with you,” You told him. He grabbed your bum before flipping you onto your back. “Harry,” You giggled. 

“I'm so glad I found you y/n. I feel like I had been lost at sea and you were the lighthouse that guided me home,” he expressed.

“Harry,” You whispered feeling your heart skip a beat.

“I love you so much,” He whispered, before connecting your lips again, and moving his hips, sinking farther and farther into you with each thrust. You continued to kiss him, fingers tangled into his curls as he grinded into you, bringing you both to your breaking points. 

“Harry,” You moaned as you reached your climax.

“God Y/n, you look so beautiful falling apart because of my cock,” he groaned as his thrusts became rigid and rough. 

“Cum for me, Harry,” You moaned in his ear as he reached his peak finishing into the condom. 

He rolled off of you, disposing of the condom in the bin by his bed and turning back to you. 

“I love you,” He whispered again. 

“I like the sound of that,” You sighed, as you snuggled into his body. “And I love you too,” you whispered.

[bokutoslittlebird]

Mommy

Sub!Kuroo x Dom!fem!reader

Warnings: cumshots, boobjob, thighjob/thigh fucking, idk how jva works, creampie(s), mommy kink, dubcon/noncon (no previous communication implied), somnophilia, cunnilingus, dirty talk/praise, dash of nipple play, use of ‘baby boy’ and ‘good boy’ for Kuroo

Working for the Japanese Volleyball Association wasn’t all glory and glam, but it paid well. Each day was another day to sift through paperwork and prepare for the National Team lineup members, with the next Olympics only two years away. Some members, like Hinata and Kageyama had already been informed of their eligibility and were a definite member, though they didn’t know of that yet. There would be someone going around to overview the Division 1 Leagues to see who seemed to be in the best shape to perform, which is why Kuroo was currently still at his office. Paper after paper of different members his employees had gone through and chosen, he got exhausted after going through just a few. Looking over credentials, he knew a few would have to make it — like Ushijima, who has been on the team before, or Bokuto and Sakusa of the MSBY Black Jackal team, with their power and technique. All of the candidates were possible, making Kuroo’s job harder as he had to choose which ones to send to the higher-ups. He was the checkpoint; who would pass this roadblock and continue and who’s dreams would crumble before they even began?

An alarm going off told Kuroo it was time to go home. He had gotten halfway through the stack, but he needed his rest. Movements were sluggish, muscles aching and sore from sitting in one position for a good chunk of the day. Glancing at his phone, the time read 1:37, making him sigh as he realized you’d probably be asleep when he got home.

The train ride home is quiet, almost gloomy as the dark rolling clouds move by, muffling the light of the moon shining down. Walking the rest of the way home, Kuroo can feel the weight in his shoulders getting heavier. Footsteps aren’t as fast, his head is held down, movements are numb as he enters the house, as silent as everything else. A sigh breaks that silence, his theory of you being asleep confirmed.

Trudging up the stairs, he opens the door to see an expected sight — the covers bunches around your waist as you hug the pillow close to your face, legs spread out with one bent. The night air is warm, which explains the lack of pants; only items on you are some panties and a loose tank top, but the position you’re in with those seem to have given him some newly found energy. Carefully entering the room and taking off his suit, making sure to be as silent as possible, he looms over your sleeping form. A disgusting thought overcomes him, a deranged desire to indulge in your body before joining you in sleep.

He’s concerned of how upset you’ll be if you find out or wake up, but he’s needy and you’re all his, aren’t you? He should be able to indulge in your body when he wants to, even if you’re too out of it to know. Prying sheets off your body, the clouds allow moonlight to seep through the curtains and silver beams give light to the previously darkened room. Your eyes are firmly closed, lips slightly open as puffs of breath escape them, head turned to the side. Once the covers are off and discarded, he’s rolling you on your back to admire your features more closely. The loosened fabric of the shirt makes it easy to droop, his fingers pulling the neckline down and hooking them under your breasts.

The material brushed over your nipples, the buds hardening under the fabric and encouraging Kuroo’s tired mind to continue. Straddling you, he’s discarded all of his clothes as he situates his cock in between your boobs. Letting his spit drip onto the flesh, he massages them and gently thrusts his hips as he cock slides between the wetness of your boobs. A breathy moan escapes his lips as he feels the spit and your soft breasts against his aching cock, his desperation for release having his hips moving faster and faster. A stutter of his hips and then he pulls away, letting his cum spill all over your clothed pussy, some of it splattering against your thighs.

Seeing his seed coat your thighs, some slipping in between your legs as they abide the laws of gravity, it gives him even more energy to continue. Moving off of you completely, he’s picking up your legs and keeping your knees together, resting his head atop them as he looks down. More breathy moans escape his lips, watching his cock peek out from between your thighs and feeling his own cum lubricate the makeshift cocksleeve. It’s nice and warm, slick enough for his cock to slide easily between them and the meat of your thighs give him the soft feeling that he really craves — even if it’s not the same. His tip peeks out from your thighs, red and pulsing as he tries to hold back his moans to a sensible volume at 2 in the morning. A few more thrusts between your sticky thighs and he’s letting out a low groan, spilling his cum all over your shirt and a bit of your panties.

Panting heavily, he looks down at the mess he’s made of you. With your breasts still spilling out, white splatters of his cum against your skin and clothing, an overwhelming possessiveness latches onto him, making him desperate to claim you inside as he has on the outside. Hands move to pull your panties out of the way, his shaky and hesitant movements showing his eagerness and his morals, but his eagerness wins out in the end when he sees how your own slick clings to your panties, making invisible strands. Licking his lips, he moves down to lap at the wetness you created, the salty taste of his own mingling with yours. His eyes flicker between you and closing, wanting to make sure you stay awake and desperate to revel in the feeling of lapping at your folds. Lips secure around your clit, him sucking on the nerves as you moan, a dreamy sigh almost, making him freeze.

Pulling back, he sees how wet you are now, still oozing with slick coating your folds along with his own saliva. His eagerness has him pulling your panties to the side with a thumb and his other hand lining himself up with your entrance before he can think to stop. A moan comes from him, biting his lip to hold them back as he sinks into your cunt, walls fluttering around him from the ministrations he gave to your clit. Burying himself all the way in is a challenge, but once he succeeds, he’s leaning over your unconscious body to kiss slightly part lips, short moans from them. His thrusts are slow, easing open your walls and preventing you from waking up so quickly, but he finds his hands on either side of your head as he picks up his pace. The room is loud now, squelch noises from where he disappears into you and from your coated thighs sticking to his own hips, adding to the sound of his skin slapping against yours. He rolls his head back at one particular thrust, a mewl coming from you as your back arches, him chuckling as he licks at his lips, enjoying the feeling.

That feeling is short lived.

Looking back down to your sleeping face, he’s shocked to see your eyes wide open, tired. He immediately stops, panicking as to what you’ll say to him, heart pumping wildly. But you smile at him, pulling him down to your lips by his shoulders, letting your mouth let him know you’re not upset. Legs hook around his waist as you break from him, running your thumb over his bottom lip. “What’s got you so tense, baby?” When he doesn’t answer, or rather he doesn’t know how to properly answer, you frown at him. “Tell Mommy what’s wrong,”

“I- I wanted to relieve some stress, that’s- that’s all,” he gulps, seeing you look at him with that face. The face that doesn’t let him know what you’re thinking, the one that usually means a punishment is coming soon. “I’m sorry for being bad, I just—”

“Bad? Oh no, sweetie. You’re still my good boy, aren’t you? If you wanted a treat, all you had to do was ask, you know?” Your words ease his worry, sweetness dripping off of each syllable. He grins, moving to kiss you once more as he begins to thrust into you again, nothing holding him back. “That’s a good boy,” you mumble against his lips, trailing your lips down from his lips to his jawline, down his neck as he moans, letting you have full access to his skin. A moan comes from him, feeling your mouth suck on his flesh to create a red mark, marking him in a way he did to you. Wrapping your arms around his neck, he can feel his cum against his chest and abdomen, cold and sticky. Hips keep a steady rhythm, but they begin to lose said rhythm as he gets closer to his next release, puffs of air and soft moans escaping his lips as he feels his end come.

“Can I- Can I do it inside, pretty please?” He begs, moving his lips to yours as you nod, feeling his arms hold you down as he forces all of inside you, painting your gummy walls in a similar fashion to the rest of your body. He moans at the feeling, mouth hanging open as his cock throbs with sensitivity. You move up to kiss him, sucking on his tongue as he moans into your mouth, desperate for your touch.

He wants more.

His sensitive doesn’t hold him back, eager for more as he rubs his cock against your walls once more. “Baby boy, aren’t you tired? You finished inside,” you coo at him. He just looks down at you, eyes covered with lust as his mind is fuzzy in a haze.

“I wan’- I want more of you, Mommy. Please, I want you to fuck me, I want you to feel good, too, please,” he pleas, lips brushing over yours as he talks. You chuckle, flipping him over so he’s situated against the pillows.

“You should’ve asked for that in the first place, baby.” Taking off your tank top, you finally notice how hardened and sticky some of it is, an eyebrow raised but no questions his way. Pushing down on his chest, you smirk at him before rolling your hips, eliciting moan from him. “That was nice.. Can you give me another one?” You coo once more, moving your hips back and forth with his cock still inside of you. It’s enough to have his hands grasping at your hips tongue killing out as he lets moans freely pour from his lips, no matter the volume. “Someone’s sensitive, aren’t you sweet boy?”

He rapidly nods his head, biting on his lower lip as he moans again, feeling another orgasm coming as you keep rocking on his cock. Using one of your hands, you lean back to play with your clit, letting him have a full view of the show. You don’t speak, but Kuroo knows he isn’t supposed to look away, watching as your fingers rub and pinch at your clit, feeling the way your walls spasm around his cock that make him whine with need. Your other hand moves up to play with your nipples, teasing and rolling the hardened buds as you moan, eyes fluttering to meet his gaze as he drinks in every inch of your skin, every movement your hands make against your own sensitive areas. It isn’t until you’re mewling, using one hand to steady yourself while the other rubs at your clit does he break eye contact, rolling his eyes back as you cream on his cock, making him spill every last bit of his seed inside you.

When you both stop panting, getting your bearings, you rock your hips once more as he whines, tears in his eyes. “Oh, you thought we were done? Baby boy, I’m just getting started. This is your punishment,” you smile, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss to his lips. Even as your hips move, he doesn’t complain and he doesn’t voice his overstimulation, his nerves burning and begging to rest, he lets it happen. This is how it is for him.

In the office, he commands his employees and overlooks their work ethic, but he lets go of the dominating presence in the bedroom when he’s with you, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Author’s Note: sorry if the dom/sub dynamics didn’t come into play until close to the end and sorry for this being released so late

[corruptedconfessions]

I am sliding in to request some yandere incubus Kirishima 👀. Maybe dubcon with a bit of a resistant darling who he coaxes and persuades into fucking him. Maybe uses incubus powers to have her be more willing and overstimulates her like crazy. Go as wild as you want, I don’t mind 👀

A full month and 5.3k words later...it is finished.  From now on if anyone wants an example of my writing at its best (and most selfishly self indulgent) I shall send them this fic. 

Warnings for this one: Dub con, drugging (kinda? magical drugging), some violence/blood mention, Delusional Yan Kiri at its finest. 

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

The house was still as he hovered outside of your window, peering inside carefully. You were normally asleep by this time…The redhead practically vibrated with excitement as he slipped his claws under your window, slowly pushing it up. He had broken the lock several months ago when he had first caught your scent, peering through your window and finding you in the midst of a wet dream, desperately rubbing your thighs together in your sleep as you gasped. You were just so tempting he couldn’t help himself from slipping inside and eating you up~

You had been so beautiful that night, arched out under the moonlight gasping and twitching around him. Every meal before you suddenly felt so lacking. He may have gotten a little…over excited and watched with guilt as you struggled to get through the next day, completely exhausted after how much he had fed off of you. Even despite the guilt he felt, he couldn’t help but feel a deep yearning towards you, the desire to take even more.

He had never felt the urge to eat the same meal twice before you. Yet he found himself returning to you night after night, every time hunger pains shot through him, whenever he felt his own magic and energy starting to fade yours was the first face that popped into his mind. He had tried to go to other food sources but they always felt…lacking. Bland and unseasoned, their noises and fluids did nothing to excite him the way yours did. He was left full and energized, fed to the brim after desperately taking and feeding on his new virgin meals, but it always left him antsy and unsatisfied, haunted by the memory of your scent, your taste, just you.

It had gotten to the point where he was…touching himself. Masturbating! At the thought of you! The shame was so deep he had wanted to rip off his wings and tail, ashamed that a high class Incubus like him would become so desperate over some random little human that he would lower himself to self pleasure was…horrifying to say the least.

He took a deep shuddering breath just at the memory of those dark times as he glided further into your room, letting your scent surround him as he purred softly. Your scent already had the stress from those memories melting away, leaving him feeling fuzzy and relaxed, as it should! His mate should calm him~

Mate…just the thought of the word had him warm and giddy inside. It had taken him weeks to realize what all the feelings he had meant, you smelling and tasting so good, he was left unable to feed properly. He almost felt ashamed that he had made you wait so long before he realized! Oh, he hoped you would forgive him! What was he thinking, of course, you would! The two of you were destined for each other of course!

Oh, it was so exciting! You would be only his to hold, his to touch! Your small, fragile mortal body would curl up against his, warm and soft against him, arching and nuzzling into his touches like a good little girl~ He would sweep you up into his arms, being praised as your manly hero as he takes you away from your pathetic human world! No one would be able to stop him or deny him of his claim.

He would kill them if they tried.

His hand was trembling slightly with excitement as he reached out towards your bed, pulling your blankets aside as he crawled into the bed, inhaling deeply as he let your scent wrap around him.

Oh…He was so giddy thinking of all the things he could do with you now! He had always dreamed of having his own little mate to call his~ Someone made to please him, to love him, to be with him. Every inch of you from your head all the way down to the tips of your toes was built to be perfect for him~ Would you feel the same about him? Already he ached for you, ached for your touch, as many Incubi did when they found their mates, but you were human. Still, he liked to think that you were just as drawn to him as he was to you.

He could already picture it, you looking up at him, teary eyed and sleepy, begging for him to crawl into your bed, wrap you up in his arms and wings and hold you so you could sleep. You would beg for him so prettily, whimpering that you can’t sleep without him. He would wrap you up tight in his arms, carry you to the bed and ravish you until you couldn’t stay awake anymore~ He gasped softly nuzzling your pillow, breathing in hard as he purred softly. How would he do it?

Maybe he’d bury himself between your thighs, lapping and sucking at your dripping cunt, drinking your juices and working you through orgasm after orgasm until you have no choice but to pass out from the pleasure. Or maybe he’d stuff you full of his cock, rocking slowly up into you, drinking up every noise of pleasure as he makes love to you; tenderly bringing you to completion as you stayed limp and submissive under him, falling asleep while still rolling in the pleasure he gave you.

You would be so good for him wouldn’t you? Let him take you over and over, let him please you and bring you to the heights of pleasure. You would never touch another ever again…too desperate and needy for him, so perfect for…

He moaned low and deep, his hand dragging over his dick that was straining hard against his loose fitting pants. Every nerve in his body felt on edge, even just the brushing of fabric against his skin sending shockwaves of pleasure through his entire body. Fuck…He needed you so bad.

He couldn’t stop the small unmanly whimper that came from him as he tugged his pants down just enough for his member to pop out, the cold air hitting it leaving him shuttering hard. His teeth ached, begging to sink into your sensitive skin, to claim you, mark you up as his. He had never felt like this felt so…desperate.

It was addicting.

You did this to him…made him feel. Something he had always chased, desperate for the escape from the apathy that came with his cursed existence, doomed to forever chase the hunger and high of feeding off the pleasure of those who could feel. Yet here you were giving it to him freely. It was so addicting, to have all these feelings, towards you!!

He could never go back to the way it was before. He wouldn’t let it go back. He would kill anyone who tried to take you away from him, who tried to take this away…

He groaned, his entire body trembling all the way down to the tip of his tail as he slowly wrapped his fist around his cock, pumping it in his clawed hand. He could already imagine stuffing you full, coating you inside and out with his cum, claiming you so good no one would ever even question who you belonged to.

Oh, he couldn’t wait any longer! He wanted so badly to be inside you, cock nestled between your walls, your cunt squeezing down around him as his mouth and hands dragged over your soft skin. Already he could picture his claiming mark painted on your skin…

Something was nagging at him, an itch deep in the back of his brain as he swiped his thumb over his cock, huffing your scent as he pressed his face deeper into your pillow. He was missing something but he was too drunk on your scent, too focused on the build to his release to pay attention to the alarm bells blaring in his brain.

At least until he heard the bedroom door creak open followed by a frightened shriek.

“What the hell are you doing in my house?!”

He panicked, flailing as he spun around and sat up at the same time, staring at you wide eyed. Fuck! He had gotten so caught up in his fantasy he hadn’t even realized you weren’t in the bed, which meant you clearly weren’t asleep.

“I-I um, oh man I didn’t mean for you to meet me like this…”

You stared at him in confusion, eyes slowly dragging down until they locked onto his member, hard and leaking against his stomach. Your face immediately flushed hot, a startled squeak coming from you. Despite his panic as he tumbled out of your bed, clawed feet hitting your floor with loud clicks that just seemed to frighten you even more. He couldn't help the curl of amusement that swirled in his gut over the fact that you had immediately averted your eyes. Humans were always such silly things, so shy about sex and bits. Incubi were much more…open. Something you were going to have to get used to since he had no plans on hiding his dick away from his mate. Hell, the only reason he wore pants is because he thought they looked hella manly and cool! Like those famous actors from human movies! But now that he had a mate, he couldn’t imagine having something stopping him from just immediately taking you whenever and wherever he wanted, even if it was only for a second.

“Don’t be mad! I know im a bit late but I promise I’ll make it up to you~”

He calmed himself, grinning at you as he held his arms out as if asking for a hug as he advanced on you. You found yourself stumbling back as you stared at him in horror. He looked like something straight out of a horror movie, skin dark and reddened like blood, blackened horns jutting out and twisting around his head grotesquely, with every move the skin stretched over them almost seemed to pulse slightly as his slitted eyes roamed your body with a shamelessly large grin. Disgust and fear curled in your stomach as jagged sharp teeth were revealed to you, tapering off into sharp points just like the claws that spurted from his hands and feet. You could see a tail sway behind him, brushing the bottoms of large stretched out wings that were already curling towards you, stretching out as you stumbled back.

What…was he? For the briefest of moments you had thought it was the man from your dreams, warm and handsome as he fucked you, stuffed you full and left you shaking and crying for more. Every night you dreamt of him you woke up feeling sore but sated, your entire body aching but feeling so warm, the flashes of red hair and a bright smile still behind your eyelids. Warm moans and sweet praises still echoing faintly in your ears. This…thing in front of you was far from him.

“Stay the fuck away from me!”

You spun around, grabbing the door frame as you tensed, trying to run. Run where though? To the phone? Out the door? Should you scream for help? Who would believe you if you told them this this…demon was in your house, jerking off in your bed?

You had just barely made it out the door, feet sliding across the wood floor and nearly tripping you up when he moved too. In a flash he was through the door, behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the floor. You hadn’t even seen him move from his spot standing next to your bed.

“Let go of me! You sick fuck! Pervert! Help!”

You screamed kicking and flailing in his arms as he easily held you up off the floor. You tried elbowing his head, biting, scratching, hitting him in any way you could with your back pressed tightly against his chest and strong arms restraining you by your waist. He just laughed brightly as you hit him, any strikes just bouncing off his hard skin as he turned around to walk you back to your room.

“Feisty! I like that!”   

Rage filled your chest when he laughed at your attempts to free yourself. He was left unaffected while you were left throbbing in pain, every hit feeling like you were trying to punch a boulder. It was hopeless attacking him, it was clear he was stronger than you. So you did the only thing you could think to do.

You grabbed onto the door frame as he walked through, clutching it hard enough it hurt, refusing to let go even when he tugged you lightly. The bright grin that had been plastered on his face faded slightly, and you took that victory and clung to it, clutching the door frame tighter.

”Come on, don’t be like that. I know you want to play hard to get but I don’t want to hurt you. Look, you’re hurting yourself. Let go.”

You clung tighter, ignoring the rough wood digging into your palms hard enough that you were sure you would have slivers and cuts when you did let go. You didn’t care.

“Hard to get?! I'm not playing anything! Let go of me!”

You twisted trying to kick him again, lips curling into a snarl as he sighed at you. He shifted you in his hold, one arm unwinding from your waist just to hook under your thighs as he stepped closer, holding you firmer against his chest.

“You’re just nervous~ Don’t worry, Im sure any mortal would be, you probably don’t understand it completely yet, do you?~ I’ll help you relax~”

Understand what? Did the man have some sort of delusional fantasy about you? Anxiety filled you as you squirmed in the new grip as best as you could, trying to shove him away without letting go of your deathgrip on your door. You opened your mouth to snap at him, argue even more, kick and scream, anything so he would let go of you when a sweet scent started pouring off of the beast. You were breathing hard, both from the yelling and fighting, you got a large lungful of the smell before you could even register it was there.

The effects were immediate. Your head spun hard, hard enough you had to squeeze your eyes closed to stop the way the room suddenly spun hard, your entire body instantly falling limp in his arms.

“There you go~ Much better…”

You forced your eyes open again once everything stopped spinning so hard, staring up at the demon holding you with wide confused eyes. What did he do to you? He had shifted you so he was cradling you bridal style, you reached up to push at his chest, to push him away. You tried at least, your movements were slow, your body feeling weak. You pressed your hands against his chest, but you couldn’t find the strength to shove at him, to resist the jolts of pleasure that shocked you when you touched him.

“Easy there~ You might rile me up even more.”

You felt your face grow hot as he grinned down at you, ripping your hands away from his chest through pure will alone. Your cheeks burned  even hotter when he chuckled down at you, sitting down on your bed and turning to settle you down in his lap.

You shook hard as he wound his tail around your waist, tugging you until you were in a position he liked, large hands pressing against your stomach and sliding down your thighs, exploring your body, your skin in a way that felt so familiar…like he had done it before. You felt painfully aware of how his chiseled chest felt pressed against your back, how in this position, with your legs spread wide to try and straddle his thick thighs you could feel his hard on brushing up against your panties. You could feel your tummy flip as your cunt twitched, clenching down on nothing with every brush against your clothed heat.

“Please don’t hurt me…”

You were panting hard, desperate panicked breaths just proving to intoxicate you further, the sweet scent pouring off of him twisting around your senses and filling your head up. Every breath you took drained more of your fight out of you, panic and fear slowly being replaced with something…warm. Something sweet. You couldn’t bring yourself to push him away or thrash and fight like you were before. You felt disconnected from your body, willing it to move but you couldn’t manage more than the weak twitches of your fingertips and toes. You wanted to jump, pull away, do anything. Shamefully you noticed you were getting wet, soaking through your panties as your entire body tingled, arousal coiling tight in your gut.

“Oh, no, no, sweetie~ I’d never hurt you…Well, not unless you wanted me to.”

He grinned down at you, sharp and dangerous, his jagged teeth glinting under the moonlight that poured in from the open window.

You were panting hard, every weak gasp for air just proving to drunken you even further as you breathed in his scent, unable to stop yourself from slumping against his body. You trembled mewling weakly as his claws trailed down your skin, even just the soft scrape of his claws against your skin sending jolts of pleasure straight to your throbbing cunt. You jolted against his chest when his fingers finally pressed flat against your abdomen, claws easily hooking under your panties, hand sliding in to cup your privates fully.

“Good girl~ So wet for me~”

You trembled in his arms, flushing bright red when his hand was quickly coated in your fluids, hyperaware of the feeling of it slowly dripping out of your throbbing sex. You were painfully focused on his touch as his middle finger dipped between your lips, rubbing at your clit and entrance all at once, smirking as you jolted hard, a loud startled moan bubbling from your chest before you could stop it. You shuttered in his arms, whimpering as you arched back against him as he kept moving, rubbing at you as a deep growl vibrated through his chest.

“That’s it~ Good girl~”

You gasped, keening softly as he pulled his hand out of your underwear, making sure to drag his finger across your clit the entire way. Immediately his hands hooked under your bare thighs, smearing your juices across your skin as he lifted you up. 

“Let's get you out of these~”

He purred as he maneuvered you, easily holding you up with one hand as he dipped one clawed finger under the band of your panties, easily shredding through the fabric and tossing it to the side. You gasped whimpering as cold air finally hit your heated flesh. God...it felt like you were burning up. You could feel wetness dripping out of you, coating your thighs and dripping down onto his cock. You wanted to feel shame, fear, but your thoughts were too fuzzy, too consumed by the overwhelming lust that filled your entire body. 

“Now you’re getting into it, such a good girl~ My good little mate...Fuck you’re so soaked for me~”

You shivered moaning softly at his deep voice in your ear as he picked you up yet again, moving you until you were face down on the bed, hips propped up so he could grind his swollen cock against your dripping cunt. You found yourself drooling into your mattress as you desperately tried to rock back against his cock with your limited mobility. Fuck...you just...needed. You whined high and loud, frustrated as he chuckled down at you, his claws brushing down your back, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he cooed down at you. 

“Be patient. I’ll give you what you need...”

The sweet smell got even stronger as he leaned over you, pressing his chest against your back, cock rubbing between his thighs as his hands moved up to cup your breasts. You found yourself melting into the touch, panting and mewling weakly as he rolled your nipples between his fingers, claws leaving shallow scratches across your skin. Even that felt good…

“Such a good mate! Look at you, so gorgeous...I could eat you forever, you know~”

He purred nipping at your ear as he drank up your sweet pleasured cries, rocking his hips between yours as he thrust blindly between your thighs. Low grunts and groans were panted out right in your ear as he rut against your pussy, blindly searching for your entrance. 

“Gonna fill you up so good...fill you full of my seed. Make you mine!”

He growled his cock bumping against your hole, nudging against it before sliding past. Growling again he slowly pulled back, keeping his hands around your stomach as he lined himself up before thrusting into you. Claws pricked at your stomach, drawing small beads of blood as he forced you to take him all the way to the base in one thrust. 

You cried out, trembling hard as you clamped down around his cock as he stuffed you full. Your brain was telling you it should hurt, you shouldn’t’ve been able to take him like that, but all you could think about was the waves of pleasure rolling through you as you moaned. It was like you were molded to his cock, made to take him, made to be filled like this. The overwhelming feeling of wholeness made your head spin as pleasure danced along your spine. 

“You feel so good around me, baby~ I knew you were made to take me like this...that very first time your pretty little cunt wrapped around my cock, I knew I loved you.”

He gushed eagerly, voice rough in your ear as he rambled between moans, rocking his hips inside of you. First time…? What did he mean by-

You didn’t have time to register that fully, let alone ask him. He pulled out, cock dragging against your walls as you twitched and clenched around him before immediately thrusting back in, leaving you arching back against his chest, crying out for him. 

“You’re so tight~ It’s like you never want to let me go~ You must love me a whole lot, don’t you, baby?”

He growled happily in your ear as he started a rough and brutal pace, hips slapping against yours, the force of each thrust hard enough you found yourself jolting forward, only held in place by the iron grip he had around your stomach. 

He fucked you like he was making a claim, the wet sounds of your pussy clenching around him with every thrust filling the room along with his grunts and growls and your desperate pleasured cries. All you could do was hold on, your hands balled into fists as you clung to the sheets below you as waves of pleasure rolled over you, unable to think of anything but Kirishima. Every breath you took was his scent, all you could feel was his cock thrusting deep inside of you, his chest pressed against yours, the way he was kissing and nipping at your jaw. 

You didn’t even realize he had never told you his name, the very one you were whimpering. 

“Look, baby~ I'm right here.” 

You could feel the toothy grin against the back of your neck as a large hand pressed against your stomach, pushing hard enough you could feel every single thrust all the more. You sobbed in pleasure torn between grabbing his hand and ripping it away from your stomach and pushing it harder against it. Anything to keep the pleasure dancing behind your eyes. 

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, long enough that your throat felt raw, that your neck and shoulders ached with the bruises and marks he had left behind. Your nipples felt rubbed raw and sensitive. Everything blurred together, you were left limp and submissive in the demon’s arms, as he fucked you, snarling into the back of your neck. Compliments and praises were still raining down on you but they rolled off of you before you could even begin to process them. All you could think about was that heat coiling in your belly, you wanted to cum so badly. You whimpered desperately clenching down around him as you bucked your hips backwards, trembling hard when he snarled, thrusting his hips back inside you hard enough you actually found yourself sliding forward. 

“Shit, I’m close, baby...Are you going to cum with me?”

His voice was warped, deep and gravely, sounding harsher, darker than before. It wasn’t a voice that any human could ever hope to have. Still you whined high in your throat, nodding desperately, anything! You just wanted to cum so bad! Every time you got close, teased with that release it danced away from you, denying you of it. Not this time.

You nearly sobbed in pleasure as he started thrusting harder, hips stuttering as his cock pulsed hard inside of you. It only took one...two...three thrusts before he was roaring, the sound loud enough it vibrated through your body, your ears ringing as he came. He kept thrusting as he spilled inside of you, cum spilling out your hole around his cock and flooding down your thighs. He kept thrusting hard inside of you until he grabbed your hips with both hands, yanking you back onto his cock as he thrust as deep as he could. You seized up, screaming as you came, vision whiting out as you spasmed around his cock, drool spilling down your chin as your eyes rolled back. Wave after wave flooded through you, leaving you shaking and sobbing through the pleasure, immediately falling limp like a marionette with its strings cut the second it started to fade. You could hear his and your heavy breaths filling the otherwise silent room, feel the cum dripping down your thighs and pooling around your knees. 

He waited until you both had caught your breaths, still shaking and sweaty against each other's bodies before he suddenly lunged down, teeth sinking into your shoulder. You screamed in agony as sharp fangs sunk into your skin, tearing through your flesh. The grip around you tightened as he held you still, slurping and lapping at the blood that flowed heavily from the wound.  

You dropped to the mattress the second he pulled away, hanging limply in his hold as he slowly set you down. It felt like your very life had been sucked out of you, leaving you weak and confused, unable to navigate the maze of your own mind through the fog of pleasure and lust and now pain that had filled it. Black crept around the edges of your vision as everything started to blur together. Your eyes felt so heavy...

“Hey...None of that now. Not yet.”

You whined low in your throat as he grabbed your hair, making your neck arch back as you blearily blinked up at him, your shoulder throbbed hard, protesting the new position as it pulsed in pain, blood oozing out of the wound slowly. Your vision was reduced to shadows and movements, watching as the blurry outline of the demon sank his fangs into his own thumb, pulling away darker. The same dark blur that covered his fangs dripped slowly down his hand. He slowly lowered it to your lips, thumb slipping into your mouth. You tried to cringe back as a heavy metallic taste filled your mouth, but the hand entangled in your hair prevented you from moving an inch. Instinctively you swallowed down the fluid that flooded your mouth, cringing even more as it coated your throat uncomfortably and filled your senses. You cried out pitifully around his thumb even as you suckled on it, wanting to squirm away but unable to find the energy to do so. 

“Shhh~ I know. You’re okay.”

His thumb slipped from your mouth, hand letting go of your hair, finally letting you fall limply to your mattress. Relief filled your body as you finally relaxed, aching from head to toe, faintly you could still feel your pussy throbbing with every beat of your heart. Your eyes slid closed, fully believing the hell that you had just been put through was over.

Of course you were wrong. 

It started small, a soft tingling in your back, slight warmth that you ignored due to the overwhelming heat of the demon still draped over you. You could still feel his gaze boring into you, waiting. You ignored him, pressing your face harder against the mattress below you, determined to either stay there until he left or you suffocated. 

At least until your back started burning. The subtle heat from before was gone, replaced with an inferno tearing apart your lower back, burning through your muscles and skin. Faintly you could hear agonized screaming somewhere far away, it took you a moment to realize that that was you screaming. You couldn’t focus on it, though, the pain leaving your mind floating as tears streamed down your face, chest heaving for air. 

And then...his voice cut through it all. Deep and rumbling through your ear it was like a soothing balm across the flames that were eating you alive. 

“Shh~ Just accept it, baby~ Don’t fight it. I know it hurts, just relax...It’ll be over soon~”

Your whimpers were muffled as he leaned back, claws dragging slowly across your lower back. You screamed again, agony shooting through you as he touched them, pain hitting your consciousness like a bus. You twisted in place as best you could, weakly trying to turn around to swat away at his touch, only to freeze at what you saw. 

The demon's face was twisted into a menacing grin, eyes practically glowing with delight as his claws dragged down your back, pain rocking you to your core. All you could see was a vague black shape on your back, similar to the one that covered the demon’s arm. Everything was too blurry to make out the details, pain and darkness made the edges of your vision fuzzy. 

“You’re finally all mine~”

His voice was soft, warm, filled with so much joy and happiness it didn’t fit him, it didn’t fit the situation you were in. Your ears were ringing, stomach clenching hard. You felt like you were going to throw up. The darkness that had been creeping along the edges of your vision started spreading. 

The last thing you saw was pointed sharp teeth grinning down at you, tracing over your mark with a dark possessive glint to his eye. 

You were finally all his. 

[evierena]

The Brothers eavesdropping to MC accidentally confessing their undying love for them. Part 2

INTRO

MC was having their monthly catch-up call with their best friend in the Human Realm. At first, their friend could not believe the situation MC was living, but after a few calls they had finally come to accept the whole "I was summoned to Hell, but it's called Devildom, and now I have to live with 7 hot demon brothers and they are actually kinda nice" situation (yeah, Levi would be proud of my naming skills). Anyhow, during this specific call MC was filling in their friend with the latest update on their newfound feelings for one of the brothers, not knowing that said brother was actually outside their room, eavesdropping! And then, their friend asks "What is it about him that you love so much?"

What did MC respond? How did that brother react and what did he do with that information? Well, let's see...

Asmodeus

- Impromptu spa night!

- That's what he was thinking when he headed to your room, wanting to test a few new products he just gotten his hands on.

- Of course, he had to stop for a second to fix his already perfect hair before going in your room, and that's how he got to listen to your friend through the phone asking:

- "Why do you love this Asmo guy so much?"

- Asmo's eyes went 👀 and he decided to stay a little longer just outside your door.

- "Well, that's easy. Because he's been so sweet and supportive of me, he always tries to bring a smile to my face, he also knows when to stop his innuendos and respect my physical boundaries. Everyone else just see the Avatar of Lust in him, sometimes I feel like even he just thinks of himself as just lust embodied, but I think he has a lot more to offer than just mind blowing sex. He's more fragile than he lets on, his sassy and mean façade are to cover up his insecurities and his vulnerability. He's the King of Self Care but that doesn't mean he loves himself as much as he proclaims, actually I think that the first is a way to make up for the lack of the latter. However, I see the way he craves non sexual affection, the sweet and soft sides of love that he's been denied for his sin. I see all of that and I think he's still the most beautiful being I've ever laid eyes upon, and I have already met another fallen angels, angels, demons and humans. Also, I've seen the way he can create something beautiful out of scraps, how he can redecorate and sew together clothes, accessories and a lot of other cute little trinkets, his creativity is really impressive and I'm so proud of him. I love Asmodeus like I've never loved anyone else in my life".

- Asmo let himself draw another breath in when he finished listening to your accidental confession.

- You loved him for himself. You saw beyond his mask, and still thought of him as the most beautiful being in your life.

- Asmodeus was crying, relieved and moved. He felt the familiar warm and fuzzy feeling he usually felt when he would catch you staring lovingly at him.

- The fifth born was no fool, he caught you multiple times sighing after him, but he was never sure what you meant. Were you desiring him just as much as he was for you? Was there something more? Would he be ready to accept it if it wasn't? Could he recover from being seen just as Lust by you of all people? He wasn't sure, which is why he hadn't acted on his feelings any more than the usual.

- But now, he had the words he longed to hear from you. He was trembling from happiness, he was ecstatic, he couldn't help himself from bursting into your room, catching you in your comfy pj's, hair pulled back and cellphone in front of your face while your best friend continued talking through the camera, but you were busy staring at the tearful pink haired demon.

- He knelt beside you in your bed, he hold your face toward him, skin products forgotten in the floor, and he started to pepper your face in kisses mumbling in between how much he loved you too, and how happy he was to have met you.

- In conclusion, hearing your thoughts about him eased his worries and encouraged him to finally claim the sweet love he's been craving from you.

Beelzebub

- Sweet hungry boy was in his way to the kitchen, and when he passed by your door, he started craving something other than food, something more like your company, so he decided to ask you if you wanted a late night snack with him.

- Of course, because this is how it works, just as he was going to knock on your door, he heard loud and clear.

- "So, you're saying you fell in love with Beelzebub"

- That wasn't your voice, actually, he remembered it from that time he was in your room watching a movie and you received a call from the human realm, it was your best friend from there, right? Then, what were they talking about?

- "Yes" you replied.

- "But why? Can you explain it to me?"

- Boi, did he forgot all about his cravings, all he wanted to hear was your response.

- "Beelzebub is the prime example of a gentle giant. He is so, so, so gentle with me, except for that one time, but still. I love how calm it is to be with him, how honest he is with his feelings for his brothers or in general, he isn't afraid to say he loves them, specially Belphie. I love how easily he welcomed me into his family, I love the way he earnestly tries to control his stomach, I'm saddened thinking that his sin consumes so much of him, but I'm amazed that even like that, he still has so many different thoughts and feelings aside from food and hunger. He is so soft and he works hard, he doesn't talk much but what he says, he means it completely, he protects me from everyone even himself. I'm completely smitten for him, honestly, if he asked me, I would let him eat me alive, but at the same time I know he would never hurt me. His presence has helped me go through so much. When I'm stressed he's always there to let me vent or to reassure me that I can keep going, to offer me his precious snacks when I'm tired, and his hugs when I'm feeling down. I... I love Beel."

- An unaware ear to ear smile was present in the orange haired demon, his heart and stomach agreeing that what he needed now was to hold your human form in his arms and treasure you for the rest of his immortal life.

- What was the best way to convey his feelings to you? He didn't want to upset you by admitting he had eavesdropped in your private conversation with your friend, but he wanted, craved and needed to express his own feelings.

- Of course, food and cuddles.

- So he continued to head toward the kitchen and he began to gather your favorite snacks, well, what he could gather given that the kitchen rather lacked all your human preferences but he managed somehow.

- And then, he went straight to your door, this time knocking before he heard anything else.

- When you opened and saw the huge and adorable demon, holding food and with an excitement you couldn't quite understand in his purpleish eyes, you let him right in.

- Your phone call was finished and so, Beel sat down in your bed and offer you the snacks.

- When you asked why he simply said "Because I love you"

- Damn this beautiful, smooth, adorable giant. Now you were blushing and your brain scrambled trying to find an answer for such a sudden confession.

- After that initial shock, you also responded to him with your own feelings, and he began to explain that both his heart and his hunger, although never truly satisfied, were now fuller thanks to you and your presence in his life. And that is as much of a romantic confession you'll get, because for him, that is honestly how he feels and he hopes you understand what he truly means.

- Of course you do, and you're about to cry because omg your crush just confessed to you.

- Then he gives you the snacks, and he said he was sorry for not being sorry for eavesdropping on you earlier.

- What can I say? You said you loved his honesty.

- In conclusion, Beel is more satisfied now that he listened to your confession, and is even more now that he also confessed. Now you both get to be full and satisfied with each other.

Belphegor

- In his defense, he technically wasn't eavesdropping, it was your fault for not realizing that he was also in the attic, under the covers in one recondite corner, half asleep.

- So, you were talking with your bestie, and your laughs and antics while updating them on your life, woke him up completely, but he was having fun listening to the way you retell your adventures with him and his brothers.

- And then, your friend asked: "Soo, MC, have you finally confessed to sleepy boi?"

- Well, well, what do we have here? Thought Belphie, even more invested in your conversation now that it had took a turn to his liking.

- "Of course not! These days I have been so conscious about him I can't look at him much less be alone with him to even think of confessing"

- Oh, so that's why it seemed like you were avoiding him.

- Honestly, Belphie thought you had finally come to your senses and realize you shouldn't involve yourself with him for your own good. He was hurt, it hurt him more than he was willing to admit, and he had isolated himself to also avoid you, so it wouldn't hurt as much. That was the reason he was in the attic that night.

- "Anyway, MC, just let me ask one more time, why is it that you love Belphegor so much?"

- He heard the hitch in your breath, he heard you inhale and exhale deeply, but he himself stopped breathing at all, an he stayed still trying to attract the least attention to himself in the corner. He felt a light blush paint his cheeks, sweat forming in his forehead.

- "Well, even though we started off badly, he has repent himself, he is still trying to earn my forgiveness, it doesn't matter how many times I tell him I already did. He understands me, he gives me a safe space to just sleep and let go of my stress, he listens when I want to vent, and I honestly find his humor hilarious and relatable. He is a bit bratty but I find it so cute. And he is hurting so deeply, he has been for so many years, so beyond our existence and just now he is starting to open up, to let go, and heal, it's just beautiful. Belphegor is so simply beautiful, his soft smile, his lazy eyes, his crazy bedhair, his low and raspy voice. I love everything about him, and I will give all that I own to know more, to see more, to be there when he realizes his own worth"

- The youngest brother was blushing, and his heart was beating fast and loud in his chest, he felt a warmth spread through his veins he had missed during the last days without you.

- Belphegor knew right there, he was done for, it wouldn't matter whatever happened, it wouldn't matter what anyone said, he was going to love you for all eternity, and he would spend every second he could with you, treassuring you and loving you.

- Starting now.

- Belphie got up from his spot in the corner, startling you, he gathered his blankets and pillows and brought them to you, ignoring the fact that you were a panicking, blushing, stuttering mess.

- "Belphie... I was... It's just... It isn't... I-I" he put a finger in your lips, effectively shutting you up, he took your phone, and pressed it against his ear.

- "It's bedtime, so excuse us" and hung up.

- His heterochromatic eyes never leaving your e/c ones, his finger still pressed against your mouth, pillows and blankets surrounding both of you, his scent flooding your senses.

- You saw a smile pulling his lips up, his eyes admiring you with such soft love. His hand moved to cup your face, and he brought you in for a small kiss.

- And then he fall in the sea of fluffly warm beneath him, dragging you along, and he made sure to find the most comfortable position for both, one that allowed him to hold you and the he whispered.

- "I love you too, dummy"

- In conclusion, when Belphegor accidentally finds out about your feelings for him; he basks in the most sweet and peaceful dream he's ever had, with you right in his arms.

I struggled for months to write Belphie's part, but I finally did it & I quite like it.

Again, if you find any mistake, please, kindly point it out for me, so I can get better.

Thank you for reading and have a great day/night!

Atte. Evie

Edit: Here’s Part 1

Tag list:

@katsukis-sad-angel

@anonymous-hq

@dawn-808

@monsoloooo

[binnie-huaisang]

Nightmare

Genre: angst

Pairing: Hyunjin × reader

Words: 1.1 k

TW: Gender neutral reader, Hyunjin (I wrote this while thinking about Hyunjin’s situation, so keep that in mind).

Note: I’m sorry if there are some spelling or grammar mistakes, or if some expressions just don’t make sense. English isn’t my first language, but I promise I’m trying my best.

Your eyes are closed. You were dreaming just a moment ago, but there’s something that’s slowly bringing you back to reality. What was that sound? Is someone crying? What hour is it? There’s something wrong. You roll over on your back, eyes still closed, and extend your hand in order to touch the other person lying on the bed, but… It’s empty. Wait, why is it empty?

You finally open your eyes, the feeling of confusion starting to get overwhelming. Why is the other side of the bed empty? The curtains are still closed, but they are thin enough for letting in a small amount of light that allows you to look around. What’s happening? You don’t even know who you're looking for, but you know that you shouldn’t be alone.

Wait, what’s that feeling? It’s something that has been there since you opened your eyes, but it’s getting more and more intense as the time passes. Your eyes are itching, it’s probably because of the lack of light, or maybe the stress. You think about rubbing your eyes, something inside tells you that you shouldn’t do it, but you ignore that voice. Maybe it’s just some dust that... No. It’s not that. You wanted to rub your eyes, but why are they wet? Wait a minute, the person that was crying before… Was it you? You were crying. You were crying in your sleep.

The knot in your mind is slowly starting to unravel. You were crying while sleeping, and it was the sound of your own whimpers that woke you up. You were probably having a nightmare, and even if you can’t remember what it was about, something tells you that this wasn’t the first time.

“Love?” A voice suddenly distracts you from your thoughts. The partial darkness of the room and the light coming from behind the figure standing on the door makes it impossible for you to distinguish his face.

"You should've told me that you were already up". He says with a sweet voice while walking towards the window to finally open the curtains.

The sunlight blinds you for a moment, but you quickly recover after feeling the other person sit on the bed.

Your eyes are itching, this time harder than before. You feel the urge to rub your eyes again, but before your hand can reach your face, a soft grip on your wrist makes you stop.

"Baby, I've told you not to scratch your eyes. You can get hurt and-" His eyes finally meet yours, and it's until then that both of you seem to realize what's happening.

"Oh my god, baby! What's wrong? Why are you crying?!" Your mind is still a little fuzzy and you're still not able to connect all the dots, but you know this is the person you've been looking for.

The boy in front of you takes your face between his hands, making it impossible for you to look away. His eyes are full of concern, but there’s something else that you cannot describe. The warmth of his hands caressing both of your cheeks makes your eyes water again. You don’t wanna see him like this, but the frustration feeling for not knowing what’s happening is stronger.

He notices that, and decides that the best is not to push you right now. He can tell you are confused and he’s scared that he might hurt you if he keeps asking questions.

You’re so focussed on trying to comprehend what’s happening and why you can’t remember anything, that you don’t even realize when the boy sits on the bed, his back against the headboard and you between his legs. He pulls you against his chest in a sweet hug that feels too familiar for being the first time. You can feel his unsteady heartbeat coming back to normal after a few seconds of silence. It’s just him and you.

The seconds turn into minutes, and after what feels like an eternity, you finally start calming yourself. The previous frustration slowly gives place to the peace and comfort that the strange, yet familiar boy, provides you.

“Are you hungry?” The voice of the man behind you distracts you from your thoughts, just like he did before. You only nod. “Let’s go, you should eat something”.

The boy gets out of the bed and offers his hand to help you do the same. You let out a tired smile to the sweet gesture. You were about to take his hand when the boy smiles back at you and, suddenly, all the memories you’ve been missing until now, come back all at once.

“H- Hyunjin?” You whimper, the tears not even hesitating on coming out this time.

“What is it?” The concerned look has come back. “Are you okay? Is your head aching again?”

Your hands reach his shirt as soon as you feel him sitting on the mattress. Now you remember everything. He is Hyunjin, your beloved boyfriend, the one who would make you feel special even on your worst days, the one that could make you smile even when you didn’t feel like doing it. Hyunjin, the love of your life, and the one that someone dared to take away in that horrible dream from before.

“You- You weren’t there! You were gone!” The words that were stuck deep in your brain a few minutes before, are finally coming out. “And- And I was so lost without you!”

That’s it. You're not able to say anything else after those last words.

Hyunjin wraps his arms around you once again, this time rubbing your back and giving sweet kisses on the top of your head from time to time.

“Shh… It’s alright. I’m not going anywhere”. He says almost in a whisper. “It was just a bad dream”.

“B- But it felt so real!” You can hardly speak, but he still manages to understand every word. “Every time it gets more and more real!”

He can feel your whole body trembling, he knows you’re scared and that breaks his heart. He doesn’t know why you’ve been having all these bad dreams about him leaving, he’d like to know a way to make you feel safe and assured, but the only thing he can offer you are his words.

“It's okay, love. I’m here, I’m always here”.

Hyunjin was hoping that his words could calm you a little bit, but it’s not working. Now that you remember your dream, you can’t help but imagine what would it be if everything that happened there was true. You know that is ridiculous to think about that stuff when you have him right there, running his long fingers between your hair, while whispering sweet nothings in your ear, but the pain those nightmares cause every time is just too much. How could you go on without Hyunjin? He was your other half, the light in your darkness. Could you even be able to function without him in your life? It’s just a dream. You think. It’s just a horrible dream. He’s still here, he’s not going anywhere, and neither am I.

If you think I cried while writing this… Then you’re absolutely right [:

©  binnie-huaisang 2021 All rights reserved. Translating or reposting is not allowed.

[totallyexhausted]

So, I am re-watching Danny Phantom and the idea of Lancer caring for an ill Danny crossed my mind after I read all the ones I could find. I also toyed with Danny’s powers; him being able to change, obviously, but also seance and see dead spirits (and ghosts; leaving spirits and ghosts as separate entities) walking around. Basically, I upped the rating on Danny Phantom and combined Klaus Hargreeves powers with Danny’s own abilities.

Also, I’ll say, and maybe it’s the song I’m listening to, or the fact that I was reworking Greenberg and Coach from TW, but I got the picture of Danny showing up at Lancer’s door, high off his ass mumbling about Sam, Ghosts, and other teenager things.

…………………………………..

Lance Lancer had never seen a kid so sick, nor did he remember his own son ever being this ill. Danny groaned loudly, curling further into himself, his arms tightly protecting his stomach as his nails dug bloody indents on his forearms. He was shivering, his ghost sense going off every few minutes, creating a barely visible burst of cold air biting back against his sweaty flesh. He clenched his eyes shut as he tried to forget about the spirits flooding the room. As he tried to forget their voices, their screams, their hands brushing over him as they pleaded for him to look. As they begged for him to help.

Lancer bit his bottom lip as he pressed his hand harder against the 17-year-old’s shaking front shoulder, his other trying to work through some of the knots plaguing the boy’s shoulder blades. He shouldn’t have this many tight muscles, this much stress forced in his back at his age… and the fact that Danny seemed to curl tighter into himself, straining his muscles further every time he took a slow, shallow breath, worried the English teacher more.

The teenager groaned again, clenching his eyes shut tighter as he swallowed quickly, letting out a shaky breath. He stilled, hoping his lack of movement would help ease the nausea stampeding through his body and after taking several slow breaths, he relaxed. He hated being sick… not that anyone loved puking their guts out for hours, let alone in someone else’s home, but his ghost sense always made him on-edge, unable to sleep peacefully or unwind. Every spark of Ghost-breath as Tucker called it, sent violent shivers through him making it harder for his body to heat or cool properly.

The last time Danny remembered being this sick was a few days after the Accident. He’d been on a famous “Fenton Family Vacation,” which was just code for some lame ghost-convention his parents attended every year, forcing their two kids to cram in the RV for a 12-hour car trip to some middle-class hotel. Usually, Jazz and Danny occupied their time exploring the city or making fun of the people who attended the convention. But since the Accident a few days before, for Danny, the family vacation turned into 3-days of complete feverish hell as his body tried to figure out how to survive with only half an immune system, half the person he used to be.

There wasn’t much to remember from that experience except cold showers, endless puking, aimless wondering in some sauna-type hotel as Danny tried running from himself, and the vague memory of leaning against his father several times as his mother coaxed him to take whatever foul-tasting liquid she wanted him to drink. Whether or not his parents actually attended the convention, or if Jazz had explored the same boring city, Danny couldn’t remember. But he remembered his parents arguing, his sister cradling him to her chest on the bathroom floor, and at some point, crouching under the bathroom counter as he forced himself small, trying to hide from the green-eyed, white-haired kid in the mirror or the bloody, contorted people following him. Since then, sickness never came easy despite his immune system being half-dead or ghosted or whatever it was Tucker had told him.

The 17-year-old pressed his face against the comforter, lessening the pain shooting through his temples as the thought of puking again slowly began to evade, and his head welcomed the soft cool fabric cushioning the migraine eating away at his jawline. He was lying at the edge of the bed, curled into what had to be a pathetic sweaty ball, his knees pulled halfway to his chest as he braced his arms across his stomach. This was hell. It had to be. Because only some sick fuck would make him miserable, feverishly grasping what little reality he could hold onto, and so nauseous he couldn’t move, away from his parents with only Mr. Lancer as his only comfort. It was some kind of sick joke.

Danny’s stomach churned, and he swallowed hard, his hands clammy against his overheated skin, trying to will whatever else he could possibly still have in his stomach, back down. He stilled again, breathing shallowly through his nose, feeling his stomach relax slightly. He sighed internally, praying to God he was done puking as heat lit through his veins, and Danny lurched, retching loudly as he shut his eyes, willing for everything to stop. He had no strength left to hold himself up; his mind fuzzy and everything hard to piece together through sweaty nauseating moments. He whimpered as he lurched again, retching as bitter acidic bile spewed from his mouth, running down his chin, and the 17-year-old coughed harshly, tightening his grip across his stomach, and clenching his eyes shut as he struggled to breathe through the rest of it.

He felt something wipe across his chin and mouth, his stomach lurching further at the thought of the humiliation of being so exhausted and sick he couldn’t even be bothered to wipe any of his vomit away from him. Danny whimpered loudly, letting foul saliva pool from his mouth as his stomach heaved, hanging his head off the edge of the bed over what he had been hoping for the past two hours was a wastebasket… but considering Lancer had rapidly become more concerned with other ailments such as the teenager’s temperature or the tight muscles straining in his shoulders and back, the 17-year-old was willing to bet the dark wooden floor wasn’t pretty. He’d also been too scared to look, not wanting the guilt of Lancer having to clean up his vomit added onto the guilt and humiliation he already felt.

“Alright. Easy, Daniel. It’s alright… just let it all up. It’s alright,” Lancer said as softly as he could. He was pretty sure the kid was mostly delirious by now, his fever spiking as sweat layered on top of him, soaked through damp clothes and sheets that were plastered to the teenager’s pale skin. He couldn’t even hold himself up anymore, his face pressed against the edge of the bed while Lancer kept a firm grasp on his shoulder so the kid wouldn’t topple off.

Lancer pressed the disregarded and mostly warm rag from the nightstand against the teenager’s face; forehead, cheeks, neck, trying his best to mop up as much sweat as he could, trying to cool Danny off as much as he could without physically carrying him into the bathroom and forcing him under a cold shower. It wasn’t ideal, and Lancer knew from previous experience with his own son, it wouldn’t be pretty; but considering Lancer was currently in charge of the poor kid, he was willing to do whatever was necessary. He’d just never seen a kid so sick.

Lightening flashed outside as a branch scrapped against the glass windowpane, thunder clashing loudly as rain continued to beat against the old house. The small leak in the roof audible in the kitchen as tiny droplets fell against some crappy tin figurines his wife failed to take in the divorce. Lancer had always hated them… but he didn’t have the heart to toss them… or admit to himself that those stupid scrap metal trinkets were his last thread he had tied to her. His last hope that maybe she’d come back. But it’d been 12 years… and she wasn’t coming back. Neither was Charlie.

Danny coughed harshly, flinching as something cool touched the back of his neck, brushing sweaty sticky hair matted to his neck from his burning flesh. He felt like he was on fire. No, worse… his core was always cold, freezing almost; so, his temperature was lower than any other humans. So, the fire eating away at his muscles and memories, was excruciating.

He coughed again, wheezing slightly as his heart skipped. He had to be breathing faster than normal… hell, he was breathing faster than normal. Air sucked through achy lungs and forced out through a dry mouth as his heart tried keeping up the pace. He swallowed, pulling his knees further to his chest, shivering again as his ghost sense went off, and he opened his eyes slightly, wincing as the dark room spun in a multitude of blacks, browns, and dark purples. Red mixed against almost translucent flesh as faces inched closer, and Danny’s stomach lurched, hard, as his eyes met the contorted and split face of a middle-aged man in coveralls.

The teenager choked, swallowing loudly as his stomach cramped again, barely feeling Lancer’s hands trying desperately to work out the clenched muscles in his back. Blood dripped from the man’s face; his appearance split into two as his smile dropped in opposite directions. Normally, Danny could ignore it; ignore them… but it was worse when he was vulnerable. He couldn’t block them out. And to be completely honest, the past couple of months hadn’t been easy on him.

He and Sam had broken up before they ever began dating. Tucker had maintained under the radar both boyfriends and girlfriends while helping his childhood crush, Valerie, pick off the ghosts Danny had missed. They were still close, the three of them; but Sam had been more distant, avoiding plans with Danny when it was just the two of them… and deep down the teenager knew it was his fault. Everything was.

The 17-year-old bit his lip, blood coating his tongue as he buried his nails further against his flesh. Sam had almost died. She had been willing to sacrifice everything for Danny… and that was something Danny would never have been able to live with. He had fucked up. He had tried to help… and she had almost died. The faint tan scars still visible against her neckline, shining as a reminder in the sunlight and under the florescent lighting in the chemistry lab. Since then, she’d been doing her best to avoid Danny, and Danny let her. He couldn’t face her. He didn’t know how.

That had been months ago, but it still flooded the teenager’s mind every time he glanced in her direction. Every time their hands touched in chemistry… every time she forced a watered-down excuse past purple lipstick. The sigh. That sigh. She had been scared of him that night. He saw it. The fear plagued across her face. The horror. And Danny didn’t blame her because he scared himself nowadays too.

He felt colder than he had been in his youth, emotions concrete against things that troubled his peers. His demeanor seemed further away as he toppled over the puny shadow of his early years. He wasn’t a pushover; Dash didn’t come near him anymore… but he was still outcasted, marked freakshow as newer threats and tougher bullies appeared. Sam had borne witness to things Tucker knew nothing about; she had seen a darker side of Danny that the teenager tried so damn hard to hide. But it was getting harder… the spirits were bleeding through more and more, scratching his mind and haunting him with nightmares that kept the 17-year-old up most nights. Nothing was a comfort anymore. Not even his friends. Not even his sister.

The teenager’s stomach lurched again, and he felt cooper flood his mouth as he bit his lip harder, forcing his eyes shut, cutting off the images around him as the spirits continued to scream. He breathed through his nose slowly, feeling Lancer’s hand grip his fingers as he tried to pry the teenager’s grip baring against his sweaty flesh.

“Wuthering Heights, Daniel!” Lancer breathed, still trying to force Danny’s fingers away from his arm as the small bloody marks from his nails became visible. Despite visibly shaking, and his breathing coming in teeth-chattering waves, Lancer was surprised Danny’s grip remained resilient. Likewise, when Danny had grabbed his wrist in the hallway earlier, when Lancer had startled the teenager, his icy-blue eyes daggered towards him, watching the older man’s actions, his fingers tight and threatening around his wrist… Lancer had been taken aback by the teenager’s strength. Just like now.

The English teacher sighed, giving up and pressing his hand against the 17-year-old’s shoulder once more as Danny lurched, coughing harshly. Concern and sympathy ate away at Lancer’s expression; his own actions feeling clumsy and foreign as he tried to soothe the teenager as much as he could. As much as he remembered. But he hadn’t comforted his own son in almost 12 years… and Danny had become much more distant and independent over the past three. So, the comfort Lancer used to try and reassure the kid, felt awkward, just as the sickened pain written across the teenager’s pale face, looked wrong.

The lights flickered above, and Lancer glanced up, hoping he wasn’t going to lose power as that would add to his already worrying list of problems. Lightening cracked again, a tree in the front yard visible momentarily as a branch fell against the window, rain threatening to break glass, and the distant sound of a tornado signal blaring through Amity Park.

Danny whimpered loudly, clenching his eyes as voices cut through his skull, pounding against the pain enveloped in his forehead and cheekbones, trailing down his jawline and neck. The bed spun despite the teenager being curled into a tight motionless ball, sweat falling from his hairline as the smell of body odor reached his nostrils, and the 17-year-old gagged.

Lancer pressed a reassuring hand against the teenager’s shoulder, murmuring he’d be right back before rising, grabbing the lukewarm rag from the nightstand, and trashcan from beside the bed as he made his way towards the kitchen. After replacing the trash bag and running the rag through cold water, Lancer sighed loudly, pressing his hands against the counter as he watched water droplets forming through the small hole in his ceiling and ping against the metal statues harbored on the bar.

He huffed again, running a tired hand over his bald head as he stared at his reflection in the dark window. The electricity shut off as the lights flickered before the microwave beeped loudly as the powerlines fought against the storm. He didn’t need this. And if there was any type of superior being looking out for him, they’d keep the lights on. At least, Lancer would have one thing going for him then.

He sighed again, glancing towards the direction of his guestroom then back towards his reflection. It was nearing 5am, and despite the sun aimed to rise in an hour, Lancer doubted it would bleed through the storm that had showed no signs of letting up. He wished it would, wished the skies would clear… wished flights would take off because that meant Danny’s parents and sister could fly home. They’d be able to take better care their son… they’d know what to do. Lancer didn’t. He hadn’t been a dad in years… he hadn’t looked after someone in years…

Danny had been miserable all day, this had become evident to Lancer in 4th period as he berated the teenager for once again sleeping in his class. His cocky, sarcastic attitude pushing the English teacher to his limit as he awarded the 17-year-old with another days’ detention. But it hadn’t been until later that Lancer began to notice things he should have seen to begin with. The dark circles, pale complexion, the bloody nose, and red tint painted across sharp cheekbones; his voice, cracked and sudden, as Danny retorted sarcasm aimed to hurt… his stare gazing past whatever Lancer had been teaching, staring at nothing but looking at everything.

Lancer shook his head as he glanced down at the red coffee cup and abandoned bowl of cereal lying in the sink. This had not been in his Wednesday evening plans… then again, there was no way in hell Lancer was going to let the teenager go home to an empty house. Lord knows what could have happened, and the fact that Danny’s temperature had spiked in the night, confirmed any doubts the older man had of letting the kid stay with him until his parent’s plane landed, which had been grounded until tomorrow evening, at best.

The older man glanced back towards his reflection, catching sight of the radar flashing across the television in his living room, silently. The storm was huge, coming from the Gulf, pressure building from the North and East as it moved slowly over Amity Park. And it was only expected to get worse which was ironically befitting. Lancer had played with the idea of taking Danny to the Emergency Room several times within the past few hours; the only thing stopping him was the question of what was more dangerous: Danny’s illness or the storm?

Jack Fenton had argued while on the phone with Lancer that he had half a mind to rent a car and drive back, despite it being a 20-hour drive back to upstate New York. But much to the English teacher’s amusement, Mr. Fenton’s plan had been shot down from his wife in the background, asking Lancer the condition of her son. Danny’s sister groaning loudly in the background, yelling something about embarrassment. But that had been yesterday evening…

And now. Danny couldn’t keep anything down, not even the miniscule amounts of water Lancer had encouraged him to take to prevent dehydration. His fever had spiked from 102 yesterday to 104.8 through the night, and most of the hardened demeanor Lancer had come to expect from his pupil over the years, was vanquished within a matter of hours. The tough, fuck-you-attitude Danny had adapted, was replaced with the youthfulness of his age. Only 17. He was still a kid; scared, alone, and whether he wanted to admit it, trying his best not to cause his teacher any further inconveniences than he already had. And despite Lancer finding the teenager’s attempts admirable, he found himself at a loss of trying to convince not only the teenager, but himself, that he only wanted to help, to make the kid feel better. But Lancer was so far out of his parental element, and he’d never seen a kid so sick before.

It hadn’t taken long once Lancer had settled down for the night, warming his hands against a mug of tea, quietly watching the news, for things to take a turn. Danny had been rather quiet during the drive to Lancer’s house, slumped in the passenger side, forehead pressed against frosted glass and still mumbling in disagreement with whoever thought he needed a babysitter every couple of minutes. The 17-year-old had attempted to convince Lancer he was fine, that he felt better since puking in detention, and his parents were overreacting. And despite sloppily scribbling through his homework, half of which the older man was certain Danny hadn’t even bothered to read, the teenager remained sullen, flushed, barely touching the sandwich Lancer had offered.

After some time spent brooding in a chair at the kitchen table, Danny had apparently concluded his English teacher wasn’t going to take him home anytime soon. He seemed more compliant then, taking up to inspecting Lancer’s memorabilia instead, trying his best to leave everything exactly as he’d found it. The older man had admired how careful the 17-year-old had been when picking up photos or knickknacks, casting weird what-the-hell-is-this glances towards his teacher as he explored.

Something sounded to his right, and Lancer blinked, running another hand over his head as he cleared his mind. Most of the things taking up refuge in the old house were objects ghosted with the memories of previous family, previous love, a previous life. He had never had the heart to take them down… it was creepily comforting.

Lancer sighed, reaching for the water-soaked rag puddling on the counter as something moved in the corner of his eye causing the older man to jump. He turned, facing the 17-year-old leaning heavily against the wooden arch of the hallway, shaking as he pressed a hand firmly against the wall for support, the rest of his lanky form hunched.

“Great Gatsby, Fenton! What are you doing up?” Lancer advanced, his tone slightly harsher than intended causing the older man to grimace. The teenager looked fairly close to passing out, a hand on his stomach firmly, the other grasped at flat wallpaper. Sweat trailing down his flushed face, forming in droplets at the kid’s chin before melting into his sweat-soaked shirt. Red set high across the bridge of his nose, painting his cheeks as he opened his mouth to speak before closing it, confusion setting across his features.

Lancer made a move towards the teenager as Danny stepped back, his eyes wide as they observed the older man cautiously. The English teacher raised an eyebrow, taking another step forward, a sick feeling sitting in the pit of his stomach as the teenager recoiled once more. Lancer cursed softly, pushing his hand towards the 17-year-old slowly, his voice low and calm as Danny reeled back. Lancer hesitated, “I’m not going to hurt you, Daniel.”

Danny pressed against the wall as Lancer took another step forward, leaning a shoulder against the wall, his eyebrows furrowing together as he tried to focus on the swimming interior around him. He couldn’t breathe, the air around him sucked from tired lungs, voices piercing through his head as he raised a shaky hand to his ear, wincing loudly as the spirits around him grew louder. He clenched his eyes shut, feeling his body struggle against the wall supporting him as he jerked away, wincing again as questions pelted him, begging, pleading for his help, for him to look. Look. Look! Just look at what had happened to them!

“Daniel?” Lancer questioned quickly, stepping forward again as the teenager gasped loudly, forcing a hand against his left ear as blood began dripping slowly from his nose, his shoulder slamming against the ugly wallpaper, “Daniel? Danny! Hey!”

The 17-year-old felt something brush against his wrist, and he forced his eyes open against the harsh lights flickering above him. Everything was hot, confusing, mashed together in a nauseating off-kilter vibrancy that hurt; his legs refusing to support him, lungs unwilling to take air as panic took over as he tried to clear his head, as he tried to remember where the hell he was.

He grimaced, sliding against the wall as his legs fought to keep him upright. He felt wrong. Everything felt wrong, weird, gone. He swallowed, wiping his nose on the back of his hand, fear crossing his face as he pulled back, red sticky liquid coating his fingertips. Tears threatened to spill as he tried to catch his breath. This was his fault. Everything. And now he had blood on his hands. Sam’s blood.

Piercing cut through as Danny pressed a shoulder to his ear, crying out as the man in coveralls laughed, reaching towards him. Danny dropped to his knees, his fingers trembling as they slid down the wallpaper, forcing a picture of a little boy in a baseball uniform to the ground; the glass breaking around it as it smashed against the wood flooring. Tears clouded his vision as he glanced towards the photo, the blonde-haired kid morphing, mirroring Danny’s own reflection through splintered glass.

“No,” The 17-year-old choked, pulling the photo from the floor, glass splinters slicing his trembling fingers as the kid’s gap-tooth smile distorted. He couldn’t breathe; suffocating fear eating away at him as he realized he was gone. The kid in the photo was gone. Taken, dead, his soul split, lifeless as the portal had taken everything from him. He had died, leaving behind grief and broken disappointment. His friend’s hurt, bleeding out on the side of the road as Danny struggled to hold onto any humanity he had. As he struggled to save those he should have left long ago.

Blood dotted the photo, the boy’s face hidden by crimson, and Danny wiped his hand under his nose again, smearing blood across his face. The innocent boy in the photo was gone; he had killed himself in the Accident, left behind by evil contentment and a nightmarish reality that he’d never been good enough. He was broken, built in a sweetness that no longer existed, a black gaping hole where his soul was, under aching ribs, sweaty skin and a tormented, fucked up version of himself. A black pit of beautiful disappointment. An unlovable thing. He had become something unlovable, the portal killing the good and resurrecting the bad, and even that wasn’t worth much. He wasn’t worth much.

Danny gagged harshly, crumpling the photo in his hands as the leftover glass pressed into his palm. The floor swaying under his body as he grasped the wall for any support he could find. He wanted to go back; to be his parent’s innocent little boy again, to forget about the shitstorm around him, forget about the portal, forget about those he’d hurt, the blood he’d shed. But that was unfixable. He was. And unforgivable. He’d hurt Sam; hurt others, the blood of death splattered on what was left of himself, his human self. And in the end, he was the cause of everything; the collector of souls, the Grim Reaper labelled by Freakshow years ago. The bringer of death.

Lancer took another cautious step forward, crunching down before reaching once more towards the teenager as Danny crumpled sideways, slamming against the wall beside him. The older man faltered. Sweat glistened against the 17-year-old’s face as he gulped for air, his breathing harsh and sporadic as he pressed a trembling hand against his chest, eyes towards Lancer, clearly alarmed by his own breathing. He coughed roughly, doubling over as he caught his breath, and Lancer reached towards the kid, his fingers brushing against the sweat-soaked cotton fabric clinging to Danny’s shoulders.

The 17-year-old flinched, shoving his English teacher away from him harshly, wincing again as he pressed his shoulder to his left ear. He fell backwards, his knees failing him as he slammed against the wall, his head smacking against the small hall table. Darkness swallowed him momentarily, his hands shaking as the photo was crumpled tighter in his hands, letting out a strangled cry as the spirits towered over him, their eyes white, pupils missing as they shouted his name.

The electricity failed as the teenager recoiled violently, and Lancer swore the kid’s cold-blue eyes flashed green before the lights flickered back on, the light in the living room broke, glass shattering to the ground as Danny flinched, gripping one of the iron legs of the hall table, tightly. He eyed Lancer, his knuckles white against black, his forehead pressed against the cold metal, his breathing labored as he pulled his knees towards him in an effort to make his lanky form small.

The 17-year-old coughed, the sound hurting his chest, forcing his headache to crawl, spreading across his shoulders. He grasped at the metal leg of the table, yearning for more cold than the iron rod was willing to give as he sucked in breath after breath. He couldn’t think anymore, the heat had taken everything from him, had taken his core, leaving him with a spinning floor, voices flooding in dizzying waves, and the horrifying notion he was surrounded by death. He had died… the portal had stolen half of him, and now, the nightmares screaming at him, had killed whatever he had left. And the photo crushed in his hand was all he had of forgotten innocence.

Phantom had taken everything. And no one knew. No one understood. The beating, aching heart pounding in his chest was a lie. He was soulless; Phantom was soulless. Welcoming the darkness that swallowed the person Danny once was. And everything else, everything he did, was insignificant. His life was insignificant, a short dull buzz, a flicker. Just shit that happened and none of it meant anything. It was the flick on his lighter as he tried cupping his trembling hands against the wind, trying to spark one of the cigarettes he’d stolen from his father; the light fading, barely there; lighting what has killing him. Because no one wanted Danny Fenton. He was just a mask of stupid disappointment, broken and haunted by his past, damaged by unlovable fear. A shell of a person; a shell of a kid with nothing else to offer the world except the blood he was willing to spill. And then, life moved on.

Something pressed against his wrist, and the teenager yanked it back quickly, clawing at the back of his neck with both hands as he pressed his forehead against his knees, trembling as he tried blocking out all of them. Tried blocking out the tormented and lost souls swallowing him. He clawed again at the back of his neck, pressing his head between his sweaty arms as he rocked on his heels.

Something wet splashed against his joggers, barely noticeable against the heat plaguing him as the 17-year-old coughed. He clenched his arms over his ears as he realized he was crying, hard. He felt sick, wrong, the ghost sense no longer going off because he had nothing else left to give. Tears sliding down overheated flesh, meshing against black cotton as loud pleas left his mouth, the taste of blood sitting on his tongue. Something grabbed his arm, and Danny choked, “Please go away. Please go away. Go away. Go away. Go away...”

His parents would be disappointed. His sister would be a wreck. If they knew. Knew he had killed himself years ago; that the innocence that he once had, was gone; eaten away by the things his parents aimed to hurt. Danny Fenton had surrounded himself in a hypocritical tranquility; believing nothing past the Ghost Zone yet praying to God every night that there was a way out, a way away from himself, from Phantom. Because despite the good he’d done, bad followed him further, bathing his body in the blood of those around him. Sam’s screams, her tears, the fear she felt as Danny shred the last remaining hope of becoming more than the ghost killing him.

Some people deserved to die, and yet, he was the exception. An unkillable thing because the Accident had done that for him; and no amount of pills, cuts, stupid mistakes, or blood could take that from him. A cosmic joke of isolated soulless bullshit. The 17-year-old dug his nails harder into the back of his neck, coughing on the blood in the back of his throat as it smeared further down his chin. Tears mixed with the monster he’d become, crushing his heart as the reality of himself, the fact that no amount of water could wash away the pain he’d caused others, was coated in blood on halfa hands. An unholy thing.

Someone laughed, and Danny flinched, digging harder as something sticky coated his fingertips. The spirits were louder, yelling for him, scratching his skin as they tried forcing him to look; to look at their pain, to look at what had happened to them, at what he had done to them. The 17-year-old gagged as the scent of blood, dirt, and rotting flesh overpowered him. This was his fault. Their lives. Their souls. Death had collected those around him, pulling their individualities from themselves as the teenager tried to hang onto his. Danny was drowning in death, spirits shredding him, ghosts pulling him apart molecule-by-molecule as he constructed more damage than his parents ever could.

Air fell between his lips as his lungs refused to take any more. He couldn’t do this anymore. He needed his friends, his family- but they didn’t need him. They needed Phantom. Leaving Fenton as nothing more than a liability, a liar with cops and parents, a part-time substance abuser as he tried killing what everyone needed. Danny refused to move, pressing his body as hard as he could against the wall as spirits crowded him, ripping skin from his body, screaming for him to look at the damage around him, the lives he had taken.

The grip tightened on his arm, clawing at bruised skin as his world morphed and the ground hovered below him. He was pulled up, his body slamming against the spirits pulling towards him, no longer able to cooperate himself. He gagged loudly as he forced his eyes open, meeting the upside-down bloodied split face of the man in coveralls, an elderly woman praying in the corner, the back of her head blown off revealing dark grey matter.

Danny heaved as some of the grey matter fell from the woman’s white hair to her rosary, liquid meshing against him as the man in coveralls slapped another man, his head decapitating slightly, spewing blood across his vision. The teenager groaned as he glanced towards a German couple screaming at each other in the hall, the wall moving as hot fingers braced against the memories etched in the wood paneling and ugly wallpaper. He whimpered as he locked eyes with a small boy reading in the corner; the boy glanced up from his book and waved towards Danny as the 17-year-old wheezed.

Words passed his ears, muttered and useless as the pleas continued to pierce his mind. Red tears of pain he’d caused, spirits forcing him to look; their bodies distorted and warped as they screamed for the souls he had taken. The ones that had left him, a bloody and tormented ending of human life. His death was coming fast, Danny knew. He could feel it. A sudden drop-off from connection, any humanity left, falling moment-by-moment, a punctuating ending happening so involuntary fast as those would soon realize the monster he had become; realize the death he had collected. Danny retched weakly as the man in coveralls forced his head together, pain screaming from his mouth as lips that no longer wanted to meet, met, and hatred ate away at his features before the heat that fell from the 17-year-old washed over them, their bodies disappearing in the flames.

Danny gagged as the smell of menthol and stale sweat filled his nostrils, his head falling back further as a heartbeat echoed around him. Sweat trailing upward as blood fell back down in a disheveled passion, choking any air left, and the teenager’s body gave out. His eyes connected with the flames engulfing the man in coveralls, his disgust bleeding from his eyes as his face separated again before he disappeared in the fire. Danny whispered, “I’m sorry. I-I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry I couldn’t save anyone…”

His vision failed as he continued floating through those he couldn’t protect… and death swallowed what was left.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Danny had fallen asleep, and relief settled across Lancer’s features as he took another slow sip of his tea, leaning further back in the couch. The teenager had been pretty quiet, but his looks and constant moving had become a distraction to the older man as he tried re-reading Pride and Prejudice. It’d been a long time since there’d been a kid in his home, and Lancer had forgotten how annoying they could be despite wrangling them during class as he desperately tried to pour some type of education into his students.

Lancer set his book down, glancing towards the television as the weatherman showed another map of the storm outside, the pictures flashing silently across the screen as Lancer hit mute. He sighed as rain began to pelt against the roof, the shutters on his windows slamming against the old brick harshly, and thunder echoing around a few other houses in the neighborhood as wind threatened to tear down the old house. It was going to be a long night if the storm kept up and the damage was probably going to cost him a fortune considering his salary wasn’t worth a lot these days.

The teenager coughed, and Lancer turned to see the kid curled at the other end of the couch. His head resting on the armrest at an awkward angle, his knees drawn to his chest as he refused to take any more space than needed, as he tried to force as much distance between himself and his teacher as possible. He shivered slightly, and Lancer wondered whether he should have told his charge to take the guestroom or given him a blanket… or checked for fever. After all, the 17-year-old had been trying to convince the teacher he was fine over the last few hours, but something about him, something about his demeanor told Lancer otherwise.

Lancer sighed again, setting his mug on the coffee table, eyeing the pile of books crammed into the rickety wooden shelf as it slanted forward. He needed to fix it, to buy another one before it fell, or before the weight of the books forced it down. He swallowed loudly as his eyes met the ripped, yellowed copy of Catcher in the Rye, dust coating it as it lay on the top shelf, untouched and abandoned for years. Despite all the books Lancer had reread, all the books he spent his nights enveloped in, that one, that book, he refused to touch… refused to move, to think about, to reread. Memories sat in its pages, crushed between folded pieces of paper from being read over and over, and that was something Lancer didn’t want to revisit, to think about, to remember.

Danny shifted uncomfortably, and the English teacher leaned back again, pulling his book from his lap once more, opening to the page he’d left off on. Considering it was closing in on midnight, Lancer debated heading to bed, but he hadn’t reread Jane Austen in a while. And besides, with the storm raging outside, and a kid he would feel guilty about waking, the older man considered waiting to see if he would need to dig the flashlights from the back of his silverware drawer before making any further decisions.

The ceiling fan sputtered slightly as the lights flickered, and Lancer grit his teeth as the teenager shivered again, his teeth chattered momentarily. Lancer sighed. The situation was uncomfortable needless to say; but Lancer had been a teacher and dad long enough to know that kids were good at hiding things… especially Daniel as he always had some excuse for his tardiness, his absences… his injuries. And a simple cold could turn quickly because most of the students at Casper High were walking petri dishes. Besides, Lancer and Danny’s parents agreed it was best, if the teenager were to become ill, to be surrounded by someone who could look after him or take responsibility for him if he were taken to the hospital seeing as he was still a minor and given the circumstances.

So yeah, the situation was uncomfortable; and Lancer knew that pissed Danny off. But the Fenton’s had gone with Jasmine to visit several Universities, refusing to let their only daughter attend if they couldn’t ensure the campuses were safe from ghosts. An amusing and almost stupid idea but considering Amity Park had seen its fair share of ghosts, not ridiculous. Besides Lancer could understand the Fenton’s concern, their protectiveness over their children as he once had felt it too. He knew what it was like to want to hide your kids from the evil in the world… to protect them, to hurt anything that hurt them, to give them everything. But that was gone now.

The lights flickered again as the screen door slammed against the side of the house. Wind howling outside as the news channel flashed a weather advisory warning across the screen, and Lancer exhaled, setting his book down, and leaning further against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest, closing his eyes. It’d been a long day… like most. Lancer spent a good portion of his time trying to keep a classroom of 17-year-olds from laughing over the cringing dramaticism of The Mysteries of Udolpho. Considering most of the books he taught were classic romanticism or gothic, the English teacher understood he was faced with a level of immaturity from his students. After all, it was hard for 17-year-olds to fully grasp the concept of metaphorical and real monsters of society.

The other portion of his day was spent grading poorly written essays over whatever topic he had sought to assign his students for the week. Honestly, Lancer had come to the conclusion that the only capable student in his class, after Jasmine Fenton had graduated two years prior, was Tucker Foley. If only his intelligence would rub off on Daniel, Lancer would have very little to worry about. Clearly, the teenager was capable of decent grades as Lancer had always been surprised when Fenton passed an exam or book report. But he seemed more concerned in his peers, in his life outside academics, to give his grades the attention they needed. He wasn’t stupid, Lancer knew that… and considering he came from a family thriving on higher IQ’s than half the city, the English teacher was sure that if Danny put even a little effort in his studies, he’d have no problem climbing to number one in his graduating class just as Jazz had.

But Jasmine Fenton had been competitive; aiming for greatness through academics and challenging those who threatened her perfect GPA. Daniel, however, competed with his teachers, refusing their help as he challenged them, challenged Lancer on a daily basis. Danny’s comments and cockiness had become a problem in his classroom; his antics or clownishness, difficult, as he proved how very little he cared about his grades. And despite his attitude problem, the older man was almost certain the teenager suffered from ADHD, which would explain his inability to focus most of the time and his forgetfulness.

Today had been no different. And Lancer had given the 17-year-old several chances to correct his behavior, letting his less-than-quiet remarks slide under the radar as he continued teaching. But with the constant bickering between him and Tucker, the annoyed whispers from Sam, falling from his seat twice, and the inability to explain what page the class was even reading from, Lancer had had enough. He’d tried to push back, pointing his ruler in Daniel’s direction and explaining there was an idiot at the end of it; but this resulted in the teenager’s sarcastic question of which end? After the laughter had died down, Lancer retorted that the 17-year-old could find out in detention.

Normally, detention was Lancer’s chance to unwind; to bask in the quiet as he encouraged his students to take the time to go over their studies. But today had been different. Not only had the lights gone out more than twice during his 3-hour prison sentence, but Danny had seemed different than earlier that day. Distracted, his eyes out of focus, shivering, and his quiet, slumped demeanor. Usually, the 17-year-old was pouting, refusing to do any real work, or trying to rally those who shared detention with him. But today he just sat there, quietly tracing some type of drawing on his textbook with his finger, his head resting against his desk.

Lancer had let it go for a while… after all, it was beginning to become obvious something was wrong. But into the 2nd hour, the complete lack of motivation, had become annoying, eating away at the older man’s patience. The other students in the classroom had taken Danny’s character as an invitation to abandon their own work for better things such as texting, making paper planes, or horseplay. Through the 17-year-old’s melodramatic and pitiful attitude, Lancer was losing control of his classroom. That had been when things had taken a turn, going from long to endless.

The older man had risen, scowling the other students into compliance as he made his way towards the cause of his current problem. Lancer scoffed when the teenager didn’t even bother reacting to his presence, but continued tracing over the outline of Thomas Jefferson on his torn-up history textbook. And it hadn’t been until Lancer had slammed his copy of Northanger Abbey on the 17-year-old’s desk that Danny reacted.

He jumped, flinging his book from the desk as he jerked towards Lancer, a look of horror crossing his face as he straightened slightly. The older man crossed his arms, a stern look casted down as he raised an eyebrow while the teenager scrambled to grab his textbook from the floor, flipping to a random chapter. Lancer stood there for several minutes, ensuring Daniel was at least pretending to read the words in front of him, and to enforce his authority as the superior in the classroom to his other students. This didn’t last long.

Once he had situated himself back at his desk, opening his book to the last page he’d read, Danny had raised his hand. Lancer raised his head towards his pupil but ignored him and continued reading. After a few minutes, the teenager put his hand down but forced it in the air a few moments later. Again, the English teacher refused to acknowledge his student’s attempt to leave detention. Normally, Danny would give up and ride out the rest of his punishment, partially compliant. Lancer had learned this during the kid’s Sophomore year; refusing to acknowledge or give the teenager permission for whatever excuse he had, was the only way to ensure he completed detention without further incident.

Lancer watched from his peripheral as the 17-year-old dropped his hand, sighing loudly as he continued scanning the words in his barely passible history book; Lancer smiled slightly. Some quiet had passed, relaxing the mood in the room as the older man felt himself beginning to unwind from the day once again. A few seconds later, however, there had been a noise, and the older man had glanced up to see Daniel rushing from the room, his book once again smacked against the tiled floor. The remaining students had jumped, conversing amongst themselves as their eyes watched the open-door slam against the wall.

Lancer grit his teeth, a scowl crossing his face as he calmly rose, placing his book on his desk before glaring towards the remaining students. They straightened, returning to their tasks as the older man exited the classroom, closing the door gently as he traced over the small indent in the wall from the door handle slamming against it. He shook his head as he glared back inside the classroom to his students watching him before looking busy as the wooden door clicked shut.

Out of all his antics, Danny had never defied Lancer enough to leave. And something in his gut told the English teacher this was either a new low from the teenager or an incident that needed attending to. Lancer had hoped all that was needed was a harsh conversation and another week of detention, but as he rounded the corner past the lockers, the root of the 17-year-old’s behavior became evident.

The older man closed his eyes briefly, sighing loudly as he ran a hand over his bald head and made his way towards the kid. Danny was hunched over one of the trashcans in the hallway, retching loudly as his arms trembled slightly, threatening to bring him down from his own weight. He had expected the unpleasant smell of half-digested food, but what Lancer hadn’t expected was the warmth radiating off the teenager as he reached out to grasp his shoulder. Both him, and the 17-year-old gasped, and Lancer stumbled back slightly as Danny pushed him away, slumping against the wall as he slid to the floor.

Danny had landed with a small smack, and he groaned as he eyed his teacher before closing his eyes and leaning his head against the wall. He mumbled something that sounded like a half-assed apology as Lancer inspected his character. Pale, sweaty features set in a flushed undertone as pink ate at his cheekbones. The English teacher ran another hand over his head as he glanced towards his classroom, then back towards his pupil, before turning and advancing towards the class.

After explaining that he felt like cutting detention short due to the storm clouds forming outside, Lancer had gathered his belongings, slinging Danny’s tattered backpack over his shoulder as he crossed through the halls towards the teenager still slumped against the wall, pitifully. He knelt down, reaching a hand out to rouse the 17-year-old, his fingers brushing against his hairline as he made an attempt to check his temperature before the kid jumped. He grasped Lancer’s wrist, pulling it from him harshly, his fingers tight enough around his arm that the older man could feel Danny’s fingernails digging into his flesh.

The teenager’s eyes were locked on his English teacher; the warm blue turning cold and hard as a menacing look crossed his face. Lancer had opened his mouth to speak but closed it a second later as Danny tightened his grip. He’d been surprised by the amount of strength the kid possessed seeing as he always seemed lanky, awkward, and weak. And the threat crossing the 17-year-old’s face sent chills down Lancer’s spine as Danny blinked, releasing his grip before apologizing quickly.

The older man stilled, his eyes glancing over his student as the kid refused to make eye-contact with him. Lancer sighed, offering the teenager a ride home, only to find out that his parents had been out of town for the past few days and weren’t due back until later that evening. And after a very awkward but short conversation with the Fenton’s and finding out their flight had been cancelled due to the oncoming weather, Lancer was driving a pissed off teenager to his own house until his parents returned. Thus, claiming an uncomfortable situation which neither Daniel nor Lancer liked much. But the older man wasn’t a monster… and if a night of letting Danny occupy his guestroom until he was convinced the 17-year-old was fine was what it took, then the English teacher would bare through it.

Lancer sighed again, letting his mind drift as he felt his body relaxing, sleep creeping towards him. Outside, the wind ate away at the chimes and shutters surrounding the house, lightening sparking against powerlines as the lights wavered in and out. Thunder roared overhead, creating a low rumble through the old house as the imminent threat of a tornado loomed in the horizon. But silence engulfed the English teacher as the thought of just resting for a few minutes evaded his tired mind…

It hadn’t been the flinch that woke Lancer, but the loud crash of things falling. Panic clouded his mind as the thought of a tree crashing through the front windows washed over him as he jumped up, cursing loudly. He glanced towards the windows quickly to find them intact and instead turned his attention in front of him as another sound hit him. Heaving.

“Lord of the Flies!” Lancer remarked as he turned his attention towards the sound. The coffee table had been overturned, laying on its side, its belongings littering the floor. And the rickety bookshelf the older man had been wary of earlier, had fallen slightly; its shelves no longer apart of it as the books wedged between non-existent space had crashed to the floor, surrounding Danny as he struggled to breath.

Lancer made his way around the overturned table, crouching down next to the kid as he gagged again, vomit coating his sweatshirt, puddling on the floor below as sweat trickled down his temple. The older man put a steady hand on the teenager’s shoulder, running his hand between his shoulder blades as the muscles in the 17-year-old’s back spasmed between heaves. Lancer let out a slow breath, his voice low and calm, “Alright. It’s alright, Daniel. You’re alright, just get it up. It’s alright…”

The teenager tensed, breathing through his nose lowly as he spit foul-tasting salvia from his mouth, and concentrated on settling his stomach. He felt disgusting, sweaty and embarrassed. He could feel vomit squished between his fingers, and the fact that he had just emptied the contents of his stomach on his English teacher’s floor, mortifying. But considering he had forgotten he wasn’t home, and in attempt to seek out the bathroom, tripped over the coffee table, not only taking it and its belongings down, but falling against the bookshelf, bringing a pile of books crashing to the floor with him, was more humiliating than the acidic puddle in front of him.

Danny closed his eyes briefly, breathing slowly as he leaned back on his knees, scrapping a hand against his mouth and chin. He turned his head towards his teacher but refused to make eye contact because he was afraid of the expression on the older man’s face. The 17-year-old groaned inwardly, setting a hand on his stomach as he let the short silence pass over them; the television cutting off then flicking back on a second later.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Lancer asked softly as he glanced around at the state of his living room. Surely, the shelves or books had fallen on top of the kid when he fell, and given the state of the coffee table, Lancer was betting the kid had tripped over it or something. The splintered shelves could have cut him, or his foot could have gotten caught on the ledge, and injury wasn’t something the older man really wanted to add to his list of problems right now.

Danny was quiet for a while, making brief eye contact with Lancer before looking back towards the floor. He swallowed loudly against the hiccups forcing themselves up his throat and hunched his posture further. He looked downright miserable which didn’t help Lancer’s current situation. The 17-year-old swallowed again before muttering quietly, “Sorry, I’ll help you clean up… I’m sorry about all the mess.”

Lancer sighed, relief washing over him as the kid finally spoke. He ran a hand over his head as he bowed his head, trying to get the teenager to look him in the face, “That doesn’t answer my question, Mr. Fenton. Are you hurt?”

Danny froze for a few seconds before meeting the teacher’s gaze slowly. He shook his head, his body twitching slightly as hiccups still resonated through his chest. Lancer nodded, glancing over the kid quickly, looking for any visible injuries but finding none, and ran his hands over his knees before standing, exhaling loudly.

The wind howled outside, and the branches on the tree outside knocked against the window forcefully as Lancer glanced towards the clock hanging on the wall. It was around 2am, which answered two questions: Was he to be expected at school tomorrow and was he going to get any sleep tonight. The 17-year-old coughed gently, and the older man turned his attention back towards the teenager.

“Well,” Lancer started carefully, “Let’s get things cleaned up.”

Danny cast his gaze back towards the floor as he moved to pick up one of the books next to him. Lancer crouched down again, pulling the book from the kid’s grasp, “What are you doing, Daniel?’

The teenager glanced up slowly, “You said to clean-”

Lancer shook his head, cutting the kid off, “The state of my living room doesn’t concern me right now, Mr. Fenton. You, however, do. Despite what you and your friends may think of me, I’m not heartless.”

Danny’s expression shifted as the older man grasped the kid’s arm, pulling him to his feet. He put a hand on the teenager’s shoulder as he swayed slightly, an eyebrow raised as a silent question flashed across the teacher’s face. The 17-year-old swallowed and gave Lancer a weak nod before crossing his arms over his stomach gently, stepping around the chaos as he followed Lancer into the hallway.

He shivered harshly as his ghost sense went off, and his eyes danced over the photos nailed against the ugly wallpaper in the hallway. Pictures of family- of times no one at Casper High knew of; a different side of the English teacher never shown. Danny lingered on the photo of a young boy with blonde hair, a huge gap-toothed smile swallowing his face as he held his ice cream cone towards the photographer. Confusion crossed the teenager’s face as he glanced over some of the other photos, the blonde kid present in almost all of them… and a pretty woman in a few others, posing next to the kid. As far as everyone knew, Lancer didn’t have kids, and he wasn’t married.

His ghost sense went off again, and Danny shivered as he paused momentarily, the photos around him blurring together, spinning into a colorful mess as dizzying fatigue washed over him, his limbs shaking as they fought to bring him down. He made a slight noise as he glanced towards the end of the hall, towards a small boy hiding behind a half-closed door; his green eyes huge and alarmed as he watched the teenager. Danny swallowed, Lancer’s questions floating over him as the boy peered further out the door, motioning for the 17-year-old to follow.

The teenager made an attempt to move, the hallway spinning as the pictures on the wall melted together in an array of sickening colors, and Danny blinked slowly as several spirits began to crowd around him, blood forced from gruesome wounds. A sharp noise escaped his mouth as he glanced back towards the boy, only to find the doorway empty, the door fully open now. Chills washed over him as his knees gave out, and his ghost sense sparked again.

Someone grasped at him, a hand gripping his arm while another snaked over his torse, pulling him back on his feet. Black filtered through Danny’s vision momentarily as his body went limp before he groaned, looking towards his left as Lancer adjusted his grip on his torso, asking something Danny couldn’t grasp. The teenager’s feet dragged against the wooden floor as he struggled to gain his footing, but his legs felt clumsy and foreign. He felt like shit, weird, split into two, leaning heavily against his teacher as the older man led him slowly down the hall, towards the room that’d been previously occupied by a scared little boy.

The 17-year-old hadn’t realized he’d been deposited on a bed until everything stopped moving. The room swaying slightly but no longer spinning in a multitude of nauseating colors. Heat pressed against his body as he glanced over the side of the bed towards the boy he’d seen earlier, hiding behind the rocking chair in the corner. His eyes fixed on the teenager as cold air pushed past Danny’s lips, and he shivered again, turning towards the ceiling fan as his shoes were slipped off his feet, followed by his socks.

He groaned as Lancer pulled his hoodie over his head gently, forcing his arms from the sleeves, leaving him shivering against the warmth dotting against his skin. He was freezing. His ghost sense going off every few minutes, causing his body to ice, goosebumps breaking out over his arms as warmth rushed through him a second later. He blinked slowly, feeling something press against his forehead, and he squinted towards Lancer leaning over him.

“We need to get that fever down, Daniel,” He whispered, running his hands through the kid’s messy black hair. Danny groaned, tuning out his teacher’s movements as he turned back towards the boy hiding behind the chair, hoping that this was as worse as his night got…

……………………………………………………

Heat. Heat blistered against tired flesh and limbs that refused to move… and warmth. Warmth pressed against bruised flesh gently, killing the heat sweating against him, weighing him down in thick blankets. Warmth poured over him, comforting him, drowning the confusion and panic etched in his veins, and Danny suddenly found himself calling to his childhood memories.

“M-mom?” He whispered, his voice barely audible as it scratched past his throat, rough and raw. He swallowed harshly, trying to force his eyes open but finding the task difficult. His body felt heavy, weak, tired… he felt like he had gone several rounds with Skulker… or someone worse.

“Shh, don’t talk, Daniel,” Someone said softly, and Danny blinked slowly, squinting against the dim lights swaying next to him. He shivered as shadows danced around him, and he groaned loudly as he tried pushing himself up. Strong warm hands pressed against his chest, keeping him in place as any strength the teenager had, left him momentarily.

Warmth threatened to pull him under again, and Danny swallowed, his head lolling to his right as he forced his eyes to stay open against flickering, dancing lights. Something pressed against his temple, his cheek, his neck, dampening the fire momentarily wherever the warmth touched, lingering against his skin just long enough to cool the sweat clammed against his body.

Danny coughed harshly as he opened his eyes sluggishly, unaware he had closed them, and he glanced around disoriented, his neck aching from the little effort he put into turning it. His vision wavered slightly, and the 17-year-old groaned as he made another feeble attempt to move only to be stilled by calm hands.

“Just relax, Daniel. Otherwise, I might be obliged to add to your weeks’ worth of detention,” Someone chuckled softly, and Danny forced his eyes open again, “Mr. L’ncer?”

The 17-year-old winced as his voice met his ears, weak and small; the syllables barely leaving his mouth as his tongue felt heavy against his teeth. He swallowed, his mouth feeling cottony and thick as his eyes lazily met his English teacher’s face hovering above him; a stern expression settled on tired features.

The teenager groaned loudly, closing his eyes briefly as the room began to spin, leaning his head back as he listened to the silence surrounding him. A quiet popping echoing around him, and Danny squinted, noticing several candles sitting on the counter and next to him, their flames flickering wildly. Confusion crossed his face as Lancer leaned further over him, “The power went out a while ago, so I had to improvise as I couldn’t find any batteries for the flashlight.”

The older man held up the flashlight, shaking it gently as confusion continued to sit on the 17-year-old’s face. He blinked slowly as he tried to piece together everything. But it was hot. And he felt weird, sick, his mind a muddled mess of exhaustion; his headache still pounding behind his eyes. He tried moving again, sitting up slightly before being pushed back down gently as Lancer sighed, “I swear, Mr. Fenton, do you ever listen?”

Danny swallowed, doing his best to understand his surroundings. He sighed loudly, letting his head fall behind him as he slowly connected the dots. He was in a bathroom. More importantly, he was lying in a warm bath, shivering against the heat beaded on his skin. And more embarrassingly, Lancer was soaking washcloths in the water, pressing them against his face, wiping down the sweat that was forming on Danny’s body. It took him longer than he liked to realize his shirt was gone, gentle fingers pressing lightly against his torso, covering every inch of heat that surrounded the bruised and scarred flesh. Whether or not he was wearing further clothing wasn’t something Danny tried to think about, and if he had the energy, he would have protested this level of comfort. This level of embarrassment. This level of weakness. But he felt too tired, too sick, and too hot to care.

Something moved in his peripheral, and Danny peered at the end of the tub to find the boy from earlier sitting on the edge, his gaze still watching the teenager. He bent down slightly, his blonde hair covering his face as he touched the water before jerking his hand back and shivering. Warmth hit him as Lancer washed over his chest, and the 17-year-old squinted, his eyes still watching the boy, refusing to let his exhaustion overpower him.

The boy disappeared momentarily before returning to his spot at the edge of the bathtub, a rubber duck in his hand. He set it in the water gently, pushing it in Danny’s direction before smiling widely, his two front teeth gapped, three missing from the bottom. The 17-year-old stirred, pressing against Lancer’s hands as his eyebrows furrowed together, and he yelled, “Hey!”

The boy jumped from the ledge, fear setting on his face as Danny struggled against his teacher’s grasp. His ghost sense went off, goosebumps breaking out over his naked skin as the boy disappeared, and the teenager let out a strangled cry as he shoved Lancer’s hands away, leaning over the edge, water splashing to the floor as he scanned the hallway for the boy. The 17-year-old gripped the slippery ledge of the tub as he scrambled to pull himself up, water slapping against the ground loudly.

Lancer gripped the kid’s shoulders, forcing him back down as alarm crossed his face. He held the teenager down as the candles flickered, water soaking into his khakis as the 17-year-old continued to thrash. The older man let out a quick breath as he tried grabbing the kid’s attention, “Daniel! Danny!”

The teenager stilled, his gaze moving from the hallway towards his teacher as his nickname left Lancer’s mouth. The older man sighed softly as he felt the kid’s body relax, his grip loosening on the bathtub as the teacher eased him back down. The alarm that crossed Danny’s face earlier, vanishing as confusion set in, his head smacking once again against the back of the bathtub as exhaustion ate away at his features.

He exhaled loudly as Lancer pressed a washcloth against his forehead, leaving it there for several minutes before repeating the action. Danny swallowed softly, closing his eyes against the dimly-lit room as his teacher cleared his throat, “I’m sorry about the circumstances, Daniel. But your temperature spiked again causing you to pass out, and I had no other way of bringing it down quicker. I know it’s uncomfortable. My son freaked too.”

Danny turned towards his teacher’s voice but kept his eyes closed as his mind spun violently. He furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to understand the information, as he tried to recall the pictures on the wall in the hallway. He coughed, sweat dripping from his hair plastered against his face, “The kid…”

“In the photos. Yeah,” Lancer sighed, wiping across the teenager’s chest again before pressing another rag against his forehead, “He passed some time ago… a car accident.”

The 17-year-old’s eyes opened slightly as he met his teacher’s sad smile before his focus lazily danced towards the hallway. The boy stood there, leaning against the doorway as he fumbled with the zipper on the bottom of his blue jacket, worry flashing across his face as he met Danny’s gaze. The teenager swallowed again, closing his eyes as he turned his head away from the door, sweat rolling down his cheeks as it dripped from his chin.

“Hey…” He muttered softly as he tried calling the boy closer, as he tried to connect the dots. He felt like shit. Even after being extremely sick after the Accident, he didn’t remember it feeling like this. Then again, that had been 3 years ago… and Danny hadn’t really been sick since. But maybe that had to do more with Phantom. Maybe he’d left… leaving the 17-year-old as a barely alive thing. Maybe this was his immune system dying, the other half giving out as it had struggled to survive with half function over the years. Maybe this was the portal killing the other part of him, claiming what it had started.

Danny’s teeth chattered loudly as he shivered against the warmth, “I shou-should call my parents…”

“I assure you they’re fine, Mr. Fenton,” Lancer said calmly, rewetting a washcloth and pressing it against the teenager’s neck, “They’re just concerned, trying to find a quicker way back to New York… unfortunately, the storm is making that difficult.”

The 17-year-old swallowed slowly, confusion washing over him before swallowing again. He coughed, his throat raw and his mouth dry like sandpaper, feeling his mind slipping, the reality he could understand becoming harder and harder to grasp. Everything was muddled, fuzzy, hard to comprehend.

“I- I should call them,” He muttered softly, “Apologize for killing myself… they’re going to be-be so- disappointed in me…”

Lancer froze, alarm flooding through him as he choked. He watched the confusion on Danny’s face melt, his features relaxing slightly as moments passed. The older man turned the teenager’s face towards him, shaking his shoulder gently as he let out a sharp breath, “What? Mr. Fenton- what! What does that mean? Daniel? Daniel- Danny!”

The kid whimpered but other than that, showed no sign that he had even heard Lancer’s questions. The English teacher took a few slow breaths, closing his eyes as he forced the panic back down. Perhaps he had misheard… or the 17-year-old’s temperature was getting to him. Hallucinations and muddled speech were common, so perhaps, that’s all it was. Thoughts of a delusional and feverish mind.

Then again, Danny’s attitude had shifted over the years as he still maintained his cocky and sarcastic demeanor… but darker things lurked over him. Lancer knew the kid smoked from time-to-time, and he had heard from a few rumors that Fenton had become no stranger to weed or alcohol. Then again, the aspect of rebellion was fairly common in teenagers, and Lancer couldn’t see the Fenton’s letting their son get away with anything too serious. But perhaps they didn’t know… perhaps they didn’t know about their son’s newer habits. Or the fights. The grades. The attitude problem. The bruises or scars. Perhaps Danny was hiding his true self from them just as he was from his peers.

But it wasn’t Lancer’s place. Not exactly. Sure, he cared for the kid, as he did for many of his pupils. But Jack and Maddie had become neighborly to him after the loss of his son, and the divorce. They expected Lancer to keep Jasmine and Daniel on the straight-and-narrow when they entered high school… which Jazz was no problem… but Danny. Danny was a different story.

Every direction Lancer took, the 17-year-old steered in the opposite direction. And it seemed even worse the last couple of months. Lancer knew something had happened between Fenton and Manson… and Danny seemed really broken up about it. After all, he had overheard Foley’s comment that the two had begun dating… among other things. And rumors were they’d been caught in the Janitor’s closet several weeks prior… But for the past few months, both Danny and Sam could barely sit next to each other, let alone look at each other. And most of the flirting Lancer had come to expect from the two, was replaced with cold stares, harsh short comments, and feeble excuses as to why they couldn’t work together.

Something sounded behind him, and the English teacher jerked, turning his head quickly towards the hall, squinting against the flame’s shadow dancing over the dark doorway. He scanned the empty area before closing his eyes briefly, breathing slowly through his nose, allowing his thoughts to calm as thunder roared overhead. Most nights Lancer could swear his house was haunted. Haunted by the memories of his past, the memories of his wife, his son… the life he missed every day. But that was ridiculous. An idealization deluded from the minds of Jack and Maddie Fenton… and nothing more.

The lights flicked several times as one of the lightbulbs above the bathroom counter popped, before burning out. The TV in the living room spluttering to life, news blasted through old speakers loudly before silence and darkness once again evaded the small house. Lancer sighed, running a hand over his head, listening to the rain pelt against the roof. Despite it being close to 10am, the storm hadn’t ceased… in fact, it seemed worse with every passing hour which was ironically befitting given Lancer’s current situation, and Danny’s condition.

The English teacher sighed loudly, wringing another washcloth out before pressing gently against the teenager’s forehead, cheeks, and neck as lightening cracked against the house. The 17-year-old whimpered softly, his eyebrows drawing together momentarily before Lancer shushed him, forcing another rag against his forehead lightly. Despite trying his best to bring the kid’s fever down, the older man was more than certain he was doing little to cause a significant change in the teenager’s temperature. Or at least it felt like that.

When the 17-year-old had passed out in the hallway, collapsing against Lancer the second he was pulled from the floor, going limp in his arms as the older man tried his best to hold Danny as gently as he could, Lancer had been at a loss. But when the lights spazzed, the shutter door slamming against the entryway and the power gave out, Lancer was close to both panicked tears and self-consumed anger.

He’d been angry over the situation. Over the power going out, the storm wreaking havoc outside and forcing flights to ground. Angry with his own useless attempts to soothe the teenager he thought he could care for. Angry he hadn’t taken Danny to the Emergency Room earlier and angry, that in spite of everything, the teenager seemed to be getting worse rather than better. Panic had eaten away worry and concern, leaving fear racing through thoughts riddled with questions; his own parental instincts, despite having died long ago, blaring as every sound, every cough, every whimper, and every unconscious groan that whispered from the 17-year-old’s mouth, sent Lancer’s senses on high alert.

Something that had scared Lancer more than he could account for was the fact that the 17-year-old was crying, hard, and his temperature. The moment he was near, the heat melting off Danny was deeply concerning, sweat plastered down pale flesh, dripping in puddles down his face and soaked through hand-me-down clothes Lancer had given him earlier. The teenager had been on the verge of hyperventilating when Lancer pressed his hand against his forehead, worry and panic lacing his tired mind as Danny cried harder, pleading with fevered hallucinations to leave and forgive him.

The thought of which was worse, the storm or Danny’s illness, no longer a debate but a firm decided answer that should have been sought long ago. But Lancer wasn’t sure if he would be able to find his keys in the dark, the rain pounding sideways against the windows as it threatened to break glass… and even though it was early morning now, the sun having rose two hours prior, it was still black as hell outside. Lancer’s own attempts to calm the teenager were futile. He was out of his element… so beyond his own familiarity, and he had forgotten how to soothe his own child. Lancer needed help, he needed another adult, and Danny needed a parent, but the older man hadn’t been a parent in a long time…

…………………………………………………………………………………….

He wasn’t a hero. Because a hero wouldn’t do this. A hero couldn’t. And Danny Fenton was no hero. He’d shed blood through Phantom hands, ghosted in hellish torment as he sat, throne to bodies and souls collected at his feet. Human hands forever red with mortal lives, halfa instincts more dead than alive as Fenton became a facade for Phantom. A mask. A plaything. A puppet of normality and bitter resentment as Phantom was forced to live in a barely alive flesh suit. And now, only now, was the teenager hit with the realization that he was no hero. He’d never been.

He’d been a boy. Stupid and ignorant in childish idealization, playing make-believe, costumed in his parent’s clothes, pretending to be something more. Something better. But he wasn’t. He was joke. A harsh cosmic occurrence of puny humanity and preemptive temperament of selfish actions. Cocooned in the tranquility of his youth as he tried to convince himself that he was more than the blood dripping from halfa hands, that he was the savior of death instead of the bringer. But he’d been stupid. Weak. Pathetic. Insignificant. A joke.

Danny Fenton was a joke of unlovable fear and horrible outcomes. Death followed him. Shadowed by terrible posture and cold features. Sam had fallen for the wrong boy. Had loved the wrong boy. Fenton wasn’t a hero. He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t save her… fuck, he couldn’t save anyone. He was just a stupid kid with stupid luck. A false identity born to humanity, mirrored from the reality of Phantom, a messenger, a front for what had killed him years ago. Fake bravery. Fake chivalry. Everything fake.

Ectoplasm oozed down his temple, sliding past his left cheekbone, gathering at his chin as sweat and dirt fell past, splattering against ashen snow and green puddles of forgotten souls. Blood pooling from open wounds, forced between busted knuckles and broken fingers as red stained white. Danny choked, his fingers pressing tighter across Sam’s neck as blood gushed from wounds he couldn’t close… from a death he couldn’t stop. From a love he couldn’t lose.

The purple haloed around Sam no longer vibrant or visible through dark crimson, eaten away by the innocence of her youth, and the immorality dripping from Danny. He wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t a good guy… and Phantom? Phantom couldn’t save her. Phantom couldn’t save anyone. Ever. But Phantom wouldn’t have done this… he couldn’t. Fenton had.

Fingers slipping from flesh, Sam’s necklace pulled from her neck as Danny fought for a better grip, forcing the broken bones in his right hand to bend, to curve, to keep blood from puddling around him… to fix this. But he couldn’t. There wasn’t a way to fix it. A way to fix death. To restore what was lost. What he had taken. What he had always taken. Over and over and over again.

And now, because he wasn’t willing to live without Phantom, Fenton had destroyed the one thing he loved more than anything. The one girl he loved more than anyone. The one girl willing to fight for him instead of Phantom. But that had been a mistake. Sam loving him had been a mistake. He and Sam had been a mistake. An intimate beautiful mistake.

Danny wasn’t the same person she’d fallen in love with. He wasn’t the same person he used to be. He was different. Darker. Quieter. Colder. He was awkward in his own shadow, uncomfortable in a foreign skin as he allowed Phantom more and more control. Danny Fenton was a waste. Danny Phantom wasn’t. He was the thing people needed. But Phantom wasn’t the one Sam had loved. He wasn’t the one she trusted. He wasn’t the one she tried so desperately to save… He wasn’t the one who had killed her.

The fight was over the second it’d begun. Box Ghost had slipped through the Ghost Zone, followed by Skulker and Johnny; the three musketeers of complete failure as they threatened to destroy the state of New York. But Danny had barely broken a sweat. Ghosts were easier now; less challenging than in his youth, repetitive and old, and most of the time, the teenager had bigger things to worry about. Like Spirits. The Veil. The Spirit World. And Vlad. There was always Vlad fucking Masters. A pain in the Fenton family ass… not that Jack would ever admit it.

Snow had started littering the ground in heavy flurries by the time Vlad appeared. Danny had sat on the park bench for hours, waiting for the stupid pointy-haired bastard to make an appearance; after all, Danny had gotten his message the night before when he was pulled into the Veil. He always got the message while in the Veil. He wasn’t welcome. He was never welcomed. And the Spirits collected within made sure he knew it, made sure he stayed long enough to understand the damage he had caused, the lives he had fucked, and the lives he had taken. Many in the Spirit World knew him, but he knew very little about them.

Despite knowing almost everything about the Ghost Zone, the teenager knew almost nothing about the Spirit World. About summoning. The Veil. The Spirits. He only knew how to tune them out, but the older he got, the more his power grew, the harder it was to keep them in check. Too many times had he been caught in public, or with his parents, or his sister, talking, ranting, yelling or even fighting Spirits that refused to leave. He couldn’t block them out. Their voices, cries in the dark, hands pulled through murky water towards his body as he dreamed, screams echoed through restless thoughts. They were getting harder to ignore… harder to kill.

Drugs didn’t really work anymore, barely a dull buzz of quiet whispers, and other outlets were laughable options. Weed made it hard to focus between Fenton and Phantom, his abilities harder to control… and the Spirits had barely left. Ecstasy was great, the screams a distant thought, the Spirits warping into smokes of green, yellow and red; but Phantom disappeared too, refusing to appear for several days after. And Acid… Acid just made the teenager more jittery, more paranoid, more on-edge than he already was.

Vlad had taught him a few tricks to keep the Spirits quiet enough to function before he died. He’d promised to teach Danny more, but his death made that almost impossible. Unlike the Ghost Zone, the Spirit World lacked a supernatural possession; rather turning anyone such as Vlad, normal and human- barely able to summon Danny through the Veil to talk. And Danny? Danny’s powers were pretty much useless inside the Veil, humanity coursed through fragile bones, muscle, and skin as blood beat through a half-alive thing. The teenager could barely summon, barely survive a night in the Veil, of being pulled through, forced out-of-body through airless lungs and the stillness of a barely beating heart.

In the Spirit World, the teenager was human. So very human. And so very vulnerable. A War progressed through the Veil, the Spirits capable of darker, more sinister realities than Ghosts such as Skulker or Freakshow could ever procure. A world of Death. True Death. The promises of the Ghost Zone vanquished through shreds of paper-thin souls of victims to the War. Death in the Spirit World meant no Ghost Zone after. No other World beyond. No connection or tie back to humanity. To the Human World. Nothing. Just black. Just…

The 17-year-old’s ghost sense had been going off for hours; his teeth chattering as he pulled the thin green jacket closer, cursing Vlad for taking his sweet time. To any untrained individual, the teenager appeared to be alone… but Danny was never alone. Not anymore. His shove through the Veil on his 16th had killed any isolation or solitude he had. They were always there. Always watching. Always with him.

The teenager grit his teeth as he smacked his head against the bench behind him, staring towards the grey sky as white dust fell in clumps, blanketing Amity Park… and most likely, the rest of New York. The weather had been unpredictable lately; a chaotic shitshow of indescribable patterns, something his father chalked up to some weird readings in the Ghost Zone. Despite never really seeing a ghost, his parents still obsessed over them, inching closer and closer to diving into the portal with each passing week. But Danny, Danny wished he’d never have to see another fucking ghost in his life.

More and more of the transparent bastards had been slipping through the portal lately. Part of that was Danny’s fault. The other, unknown. Valerie had helped pick up the slack, along with the Fenton Duo, but the teenager had more important things to worry about like Spirits. The harder they were to ignore, the more of them appeared… and they could touch him. Hurt him. Kill him… the scars plastered against his right ribs should be evident enough to speak to their danger. He’d barely survived his first trip through the Veil, and Vlad kept pulling him fucking through… mainly because summoning wasn’t something the 17-year-old had mastered yet. And with Vlad dead, Danny doubted if he’d ever actually be able to master summoning… leaving no hope for resurrection.

Something kicked against the teenager’s red converse, and Danny shot up quickly, expecting Vlad to be standing over him. A smile crawled across his face as his eyes met Sam, her black hoodie blowing viciously against the winter air, small specks of white clinging to the fabric. She kicked his foot again, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear, “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Danny smirked, forcing his hands in his pocket, his right hand clamped around the red lighter he had stolen from his dad’s secret stash. Whether or not Jack Fenton had noticed a few of his smokes were missing, the teenager would never know. After all, if his father ended up confronting him about it, then that meant Jack would also have to come clean to Maddie about smoking… something he supposedly gave up a few years after Danny was born.

Sam slumped down next to him, her shoulder hitting his as Danny turned towards her, smiling. Sam rolled her eyes, her purple lipstick twisting into a grin as she leaned her head against his shoulder. She sighed, “So, I take it Vlad hasn’t shown?”

The 17-year-old shook his head, before clearing his throat, “No.”

“That’s pretty unusual for him, isn’t it?” She asked, pulling her head up as wind forced her hood down, short black hair flying chaotically. She glanced in Danny’s direction as he flicked some snow off his jeans. He hadn’t really thought about Vald’s behavior- about his pretty punctual habits, but now that it was mentioned, it was rather worrisome the older man hadn’t shown yet. Especially given he seemed rather paranoid the night before. But surely, the older man would have said if he was in danger.

Danny shrugged his shoulders, meeting Sam’s gaze, biting his bottom lip. Pieces of ice clung to her hair, freckled across her face, and the 17-year-old hesitated, before brushing his thumb across her cheek carefully, wiping away some of the fallen snow. He paused, his fingers pressing gently against her jawline, following the curve softly before Sam pressed her hand over his. Danny froze, warmth flooding his face as he refused to advert his gaze.

Sam had been weird lately. She’d been acting weird… almost feminine… which was weird for both Tucker and Danny as they had always seen her as one of the guys. But between a few awkward non-date dates, a few fake-out make-outs, and being caught half-naked in the Janitor’s Closet a few weeks prior when Danny had phased through the wrong room after a fight; Danny was finding it harder to act normal around her. And then there was the Annual Winter Dance last month which neither Sam nor Danny refused to acknowledge, involving some sloppy drinking, heated kissing, and one awkward morning after at the Fenton household as Danny tried sneaking Sam from his room only to be caught by his sister.

Since then, Sam had become more… Well, it was hard to explain because Danny was pretty sure he’d become more of it too. Every moment he was around her, it seemed like he had reverted back to his weird, awkward, clumsy demeanor. He couldn’t talk around her anymore, let alone act normal anymore. His ghost sense unpredictable, his powers uncontrollable as his body forgot how to be him around her. He couldn’t eat or sleep and paying what little attention he normally did in class, unbearable. He couldn’t get Sam out of his head. Her purple lipstick. Her laugh. Her hands clasped around his. Her mouth… Her. And it was driving him insane.

Mentioning it to anyone was out of the question. Tucker had them married in 9th grade. His parents were too hyperactive and weird to be able to deal with their only son dating- let alone his sister’s recollection of her very awkward first date that involved more of Jack Fenton than Danny wanted to picture. And Jazz? Jazz had freaked when she had caught Danny and Sam together the morning after the Annual Winter Dance, forcing both teenagers to attend a lecture involving responsible actions, so asking Jazz for advice was out of the question. Honestly, Danny had found some console in Vlad, but that bastard’s advice was wishy-washy and outdated.

Sam’s fingers brushed over the rough scars on his hand before she trailed up his arm. Her hand hesitating on his shoulder before cupping the back of his neck, her fingers tussling his hair softly. The wind whooshed past, snow raining over them as Sam met the 17-year-old’s gaze, a small smirk painted across purple lips. Danny shivered slightly, brushing his thumb over her cheek again, “I-”

“Shut up,” Sam cut him off, pulling herself from the bench as she pressed her lips against his, pushing the 17-year-old back slowly as he dropped his hand from her cheek, trailing down her shoulder slowly, arm, back. He inhaled loudly, a hand pressed against the small of Sam’s back, the other pressing her closer to him as she kissed him again, one of her hand’s slipping underneath his shirt. Cold fingers pressed against the warmth on his back. Black nails scrapping gently over scarred flesh, fingers through black hair, and Danny’s hands dragging her closer. Sam was driving him insane… but maybe this time, they could acknowledge it… maybe this time, he could tell her how he really felt.

Maybe this time he could tell her he couldn’t get her out of his mind. That he couldn’t concentrate around her, he couldn’t get that night at the dance out of his mind… that she made everything better, made everything okay. He needed her like he needed air. She was a reminder that he was still alive, that he was still human, that he was still more than Phantom. Because she seemed to want him more than Phantom… She liked him. Not Phantom. And that- that was all Danny ever wanted from someone. From her…

Her nails scrapped harder against his back as Sam straddled him; her hair flying in the wind, covering her face, smacking against Danny’s face comfortingly. His hands gentle as they trailed down the rest of her back, her thighs, holding her steady against him. Her lips forceful against his, nails marked against skin, her heart pounding against his. She breathed deeply, “Danny…”

“Well, isn’t this nice,” Someone sneered. Danny pushed Sam off him gently, jumping to his feet as he pressed Sam behind him, his stance protective as he met the stranger’s gaze. The 17-year-old watched as a woman stepped forward, a smirk on her face as she pushed some of her long blonde hair behind her ear. She eyed the 17-year-old, sizing him up as she walked around the small bench. She scoffed, “They said the halfa was young, but I never would have thought this young… Tell me, handsome, do you even know how to tie your own shoes?”

Danny tensed, “Do you want to find out?”

The woman laughed loudly, circling them once more before standing a few feet from him, “Oh, and that wit. I bet you’re a troublemaker, uh?”

She crossed her arms, straightening her posture until she was eyelevel with him. Her skin almost translucent against the white ground, blood dotting against her neck where a necklace should have been. Her bright pink and blue jumpsuit standing out against the snow, fitting the ideal clothing for an 80’s teenager… her blonde hair in half-buns, purple triangle earrings dangling from her ears. She laughed again, shaking her head, her red lipstick twisting slightly as she peered towards Sam.

Sam had risen from the bench, pulling her hoody back over head as her hair still fought against the wind. She forced the sleeves past her hands, her fingers intertwining gently with Danny’s as the 17-year-old stepped forward, “Where’s Vlad?”

The woman cocked her head, her smile offsetting as she held up her hand, inspecting her chipped blue fingernails, “I wouldn’t worry about Grandpa anymore. He’s been taken care of.”

The teenager swallowed, dropping his hand from Sam’s as he took another step forward, his hands burning slightly as Phantom threatened to appear. Danny swallowed, “What did you do to him?”

The woman laughed again, shoving her hands on her hips as she faced the 17-year-old again, “You’ve become quite the gossip in the Veil. Did you know that? Everyone talks about the halfa; the teenage boy with a hitlist bigger than… well… for decency, think of someone historically bad. The merciless angel. The bringer of death. The red. You could say you’ve become very popular amongst Spirits… and to hear, the little ghost boy could be harmed,” She paused, clasping her hands together as a smile painted her face, “Well, that was like Christmas morning.”

Sam reached for Danny’s shoulder, her fingers gracing over the fabric of his hoodie as he stepped forward again, “What did you do with Vlad?”

The woman smirked, “Me? No, honey, I’ve done nothing. See, I don’t really care for the creepy-uncle-lotion-in-the-basket types. You, however, are much more interesting. Much more powerful than Vlad would be… I can feel it. Radiating off you like the wind around you. It’s beautiful… And we can hurt you. We can touch you. Something those pathetic airbags in the Ghost Zone could only dream of. And believe me, pretty boy, there are many in the Veil eager to show you their real power. Eager to walk this Earth again… all we need is the blood of the halfa.”

“Fuck you!” Sam yelled, stepping in front of the 17-year-old, her finger’s gripping Danny’s wrist. Sam took a step forward, her stance tense, her hood down as wind washed over her. Snow beading in black hair, melting down her face as hatred flashed across her features. Her grip tightened around the teenager’s wrist, protectively; and Danny swallowed softly as he realized she wasn’t about to let go.

The woman stepped forward slowly, smirking again as she chuckled, “Call off your guard-dog, Daniel. I have no intention of killing you today… besides, in order for us to be reborn, you have to come to us willingly. Which I give you… a year before you enter the Veil for the last time.”

Danny scoffed, “Unlikely.”

He shivered as he met the woman’s gaze, her smile hiding something that scared the teenager more than the threat. An understanding… knowing. She knew what went through his mind. What he thought about, how he thought about himself… The way she looked at him, the way she smirked towards him, sneering… she knew. About the drugs. The blood. About the recklessness. She knew what stimmed through a tired mind in the nightmarish reality of Fenton from Phantom. She had to know… but the only way she would, would be- Vlad.

Danny glanced down for a second, swallowing loudly. Him and Vlad had had their differences, but they seemed to work it out over the years… so would Vlad really tell people about him? Would he really betray his secrets to other people, well, Spirits? The teenager had confided in him over the years. Not about everything… but about himself, about how he had come to hate Phantom. How he had become forced to live with Phantom’s pain and torment. How he felt, as the years past, and he let Phantom have more power, he could feel reality crumpling around him. Crumpling in, and slipping through his fingers, through the cracks created by Phantom, opened and birthed through the Ghost Zone and Spirit World. How it felt like he was being drained… that his humanity was dying. Would Vlad really betray him like that? After all this time?

The woman scoffed again, “Perhaps. But I’m willing to help you out… give you another nudge in the right direction.”

Confusion crossed the 17-year-old’s face as he stepped forward again, only a few feet from the woman as she crossed her arms, raising her head. She shook her head slowly, “I can see you’re confused, so I’ll make it simple for your stupid hormonal teenage brain.”

There was a flash, and Danny dropped harshly, his hands and arms burning as he felt the shift starting to take over. Phantom gaining control as the Fenton canister, forgotten on the park bench, exploded loudly, and the teenager pressed his burning hands against the snow. Cold braced against his fingers as he looked up, wiping away some green ectoplasm that litter across his body, blood dripping down his chin slowly from a cut on his upper lip. His eyes flashed green as he let Phantom gain control, his body burning slightly as he shifted, the aching pain that plagued him, gone as Phantom took over.

Within a second, he had the woman pinned against the tree, a smirk twisting against his lips as she struggled pathetically. He huffed, his tone cocky as he tightened his grip, “You missed.”

The woman hesitated before laughing loudly, snapping her fingers as Phantom reverted back, forcing Fenton through translucent skin as he was shoved back into his teenage body. Sweaty fatigue washed over him as she kicked his leg, slamming him against the ground harshly, pinning him against the snow. The 17-year-old squirmed, trying to coax Phantom out, trying to shift but finding the task difficult, his fingers tingling and sparking green but refusing to change.

The woman snorted, grasping his hand in hers, smiling down at him as her blonde hair brushed over his chest. She pressed her fingers between his, humming softly before jerking her hand back, bending Danny’s fingers as she clawed at his palm, bones cracking, causing the teenager to scream loudly as he fought against her. After a few seconds, she let go as wind rushed past them, and she pressed her chest against his, stroking his hair back gently. She bent down further, her lips brushing against his ear, “I wasn’t aiming for you, honey.”

The 17-year-old twisted; his head jerked towards Sam as he tried forcing the woman from him. Blood splattered against the snow as Sam fell, her face pressing against the ice, her hand, bloodied and shaky, as she reached in Danny’s direction. The teenager cried loudly as Sam’s hand dropped in the snow, her body going limp as red bled through white. The woman pressed her fingers against the 17-year-old’s cheek as he screamed again; his hands and arms burning as heat clawed through his chest. Sam opened her mouth, purple lips parted but no words came, only tears trailing down pale flesh before green eyes shut.

The woman laughed softly, digging her nails painfully into Danny’s cheek and chin, prying his eyes away from Sam and towards her. Rage ate away at his features, his skin scorching against Phantom as green began to steam off him, his eyes flashing bright green before darkening as his eyes met hers. The woman tightened her grip as green smoke continued to envelope them; a smirk plastered to skin pulled back too tightly as she pressed her clammy forehead against his, gently. She took a deep breath as Danny struggled against her, his skin itching as black ectoplasm began to drip from his nose and ears, running down his face before smacking against the ground. Cold soaking through his clothes as his skin began to burn away, green fading to black, and black sparks radiating from his fingertips as the woman pressed her lips against his.

The teenager jerked away, his gaze meeting Sam’s stilled face. Her features silent, and Danny choked again as he yelled her name, fighting against the woman’s grasp again. Her nails dug once more into his flesh, pulling his face back towards her as black tears fell down his cheeks in thick trails. She thumbed some away slowly before licking the liquid from her thumb and smirking, pressing her chest once again against his.

“Such power. Such a waste,” She bent down further, her lips pressing against his temple, “Two down… See you in a year, lover.”

Pain seared across his chest, and the 17-year-old screamed as her hand pressed over his heart, burning against flesh as the greenish black swallowing him, ceased. His eyes flashed back to blue as he choked, grasping towards her hand before realizing she was gone. His hand pressing over the bloody handprint stained against his shirt as the pain slowly began to evade, and he twisted around, stumbling to his feet as he forced himself towards Sam….

[shiversdownyerspine]

7. Premeditated

GETTING WARMER FOR ALL THEM OTTO PEEPS. >:D

18+

You take a deep steadying breath into your hands, dragging them down your face as you breathe out. Stars twinkling in the window, you lean forward against the counter as your body shivers uncontrollably. With your elbows atop the counter, you wait once again for your kettle to boil, already dreading morning. 

This can't go on. At this rate, you're going to drink all the coffee in your home! But what can you do except wait? You've done it time and time again; wrap up in your covers, drink your piping hot tea, and catch a couple hours of sleep before the cold sets in again and you start the whole process over. Rinse and repeat the whole night away, the week away, until the chill that has made a home in your bones eases its grip. For a time.

Lips parting on a shaky sigh, you fiddle with your sleeve, allowing your flannel pajamas' polka dot pattern to distract you from your joyless thoughts. Feeling the fuzzy interior around the inside of the cuff, you miss the meager vestiges of body heat that had long disappeared into the night. Small as they were, at least they had been something. Your head swivels to eye your stove, the little flame burning under your kettle, and hop up on the counter to sit. Not too close to the flame, but close enough to soak up some of the heat.

As the water bubbles in its confines, you quickly switch off the stove and pop the kettle up before it can start to whistle. Filling your classic mug of chamomile tea, your thoughts once again fall; this was much easier to handle when you had no guests, no one to pick up on your little problem. Of course that's not their fault, and you're certainly not blaming them, just appreciating a freedom that you were unaware of before. 

Smile pulling at your lips, you recall a couple days prior how you taunted the three before disappearing to your room before revenge could be had. Your familiarity with the men has certainly been making you bold. Honestly, you're kind of surprised no one has retaliated against you, but on the other hand, the suspense offers a sort of retribution all on its own. You doubt that'd be enough for them though.

This introspection has you distracted well and good, to the point that when the tallest brother leaves the guestroom and walks barefoot to your kitchen, you had yet to notice him until he was practically in front of you. Deja vu strikes; your grasp falters, hands fumbling with your drink with the familiar sudden appearance of a long john wearing man. Wide eyed, you blink up at Otto as he scans you head to toe, taking in your shivering layers and that you are once more preparing a drink late in the night.

He is direct, "You're awake, why?"

Judging by his determined tone, the man is on a hunt. You fidget, "Can't sleep sometimes."

He snorts, "Weeks of bad sleep? No."

He gestures to your kettle, "Drink, why?"

Your answer is technically honest, "...I get cold sometimes."

With narrow eyes, he crushes your wish that he would leave it at that, "Cold why?" 

Your gaze lowers to your steaming cup, pouting just a little, "I was kind of hoping you'd just assume it's because I'm smaller in stature." Otto waits patiently, folding his arms in victory.

Tapping a nervous rhythm on the sides of your mug, you give it a go, "Well, you all know about my regeneration? So...I suffered a serious injury to my diaphragm and my ribcage when I was young and my healing was in..early development. It did heal, but not...uh..the way it should have...it was..different? Wrong?" 

Your brow furrows with frustration, "I-I'm sorry, I know I'm not being very clear, but the only way I'd know for certain is with a doctor visit...which I can't do for...many reasons. Basically all I have is just...theory." 

You sip your drink, eyes drifting back up to Otto.

"I think when the injury healed, it healed incorrectly and permanently. Because of that, I have difficulty generating and sustaining my own body heat. It just slips away sometimes. It took a good while to get used to these...random cold spells. They don't hurt, not really, I just...lose out on more sleep than I'd like."

Although the colder seasons are...pretty rough. You can't lie to yourself about that.

Otto cocks his head, frowning. He takes a moment to find the words, which he speaks softly, "All your blankets..sweaters...ah..hot drinking?" 

You smile to confirm, patting the knit blanket on your shoulder as you hum, "Yup, all to help with my condition. Well...not exclusively. I do enjoy all those things quite a bit, so even if I didn't have this little problem, I don't know if my tastes would be much different. There's just something about knit-wear and hot cocoa that makes me happy." You grin, wiggling your feet in the heavy fuzzy socks that currently adorn them, displaying your enjoyment of their softness. You can get a bit silly when you're so tired.

The look he gives you is...focused. Judging by the tense set of his jaw and the soft popping of his knuckles as his hands curl into fists, it's almost like he's...

"Who hurt you?" 

Your thought process is abruptly cut off. You blink in mild surprise...he's not asking what, but who. Does he suspect it wasn't some sort of accident then? You do have a lack of pictures around your home, no friends or family from before you became affiliated with the Commission, so maybe he reasoned that your isolation had something to do with an aversion to people? And not just fear of your ability being discovered?...The man pays attention.

The smile on your face fades as you fall still, thinking carefully. Of course you were trying to figure out some sort of way to answer his question without diving into dangerous waters, but you find that his question is pulling from you some honest consideration; you weren't sure how you felt about the agents that brought you to that man, but in the end they were just doing their jobs...you don't even know if they had any idea what was actually going on. Regardless of intent, you have no warm thoughts or feelings to spare for them. But, there was only one person that made the feathers on the back of your neck stand on end with just a thought.

"It doesn't matter, they're long gone now. Good riddance." Your last sentence leaves your lips in a quiet hiss.

Ottos frown deepens into a furious scowl, "Where."

Your hands squeeze your mug, "Dead. I promise."

You're fairly certain you're the one that did it. You had gotten some flickers of memory quite a while back, one in particular had been of a man in...dire need of assistance as he flailed uselessly underneath long frantically swiping claws. He hadn't really been recognizable under all the mess and gore...but oh, there was this feeling.

The tension in the large man seems to ease, but Otto pauses with curiosity and surprise as he processes the pure vitriol in your voice, "You kill?"

You stumble over your words, "I...well, anyone can kill...if they're backed into a corner, right? If there's no other way out, and...and really.." 

Your voice trails off at about the same time as your mind does, beginning the descent into fuzzy memory.

You're not even sure why you're fighting the urge to panic; these men are assassins, killing is a part of their life. They understand ending a life to defend oneself... but that isn't the problem, is it. It's not that someone might think less of you, it's that...you don't remember. 

"I barely remember doing it. I don't remember what I was thinking or what I felt. I don't remember being shot at, but I do remember the pain. Bullets and blood spilling out. I don't remember if that man said anything before I started mauling him. I don't remember if when I had staggered up off the floor after a never-ending beating if..if I'd ran or tracked the man down first and...what sort of person has that maliciousness at 12 years old?"

Sighing, you scrub a hand tiredly over your face, the thick silence in the air bringing your gaze back up to Otto and...oh...you'd said everything out loud.

Color drains from your face as your eyes fall to the half full cradle of tea that is the inside of your mug. The exhaustion swallows any further panic as you mumble an apology, that you didn't intend to burden him.

Bare feet quietly pat against the kitchen floor as the man steps closer to you, burning fingertips gracing your cheek. Deep in the back of your mind you're reminded of Axel's touch, but it isn't quite the same because it's Otto's. The warmth has you leaning into his palm, seeking more instinctively to chase the chill away. It's not enough.

Otto is quiet for a moment, searching for the words before he describes their first kill, how the brothers had been young as well but older than you were. Young adults. They hadn't been employed by the Commission yet, but what you can gather from the little he gives of the situation is that they were protecting Oscar. It happened so quickly, didn't feel real. It weighed heavy on them, got easier with time. Still have rare moments where it's heavy again, old thoughts, memories. He rests his nose and lips at the top of your head, lightly in your hair. Like you. You are like them.

Perched up on the counter, your knees lightly brush his hips as he stands close, nearly between your legs as his hand cups the back of your neck. His palm rests oh so lightly atop your feathers, careful not to ruffle or stress, only offering a sheepish sort of comfort. His scent surrounds you, and it's fresh laundry and unexplainably his own and it's making you dizzy, everything is making you fuzzy and you're so drained and he's so so close...

Impulsivity, desperation, and prolonged sleeplessness has stolen away your common sense as you scoot closer to him. Your arms wrap tentatively over his shoulders in a loose hug, carefully leaning in as you tuck your face tiredly into his neck. Otto goes very still and quiet for a moment, before a quiet expletive in Swedish leaves his mouth. His palm remains on your nape, neither of you moving as you bask in his warmth.

Your lips are ticklish as they brush against his skin, murmuring a muffled bashful apology about clinginess and coldness and he can feel your hands slipping away from him. Impulsivity can be very contagious; before your touch has the chance to leave him completely, both of his big hands slip to your back and he's pulling you right back into him. Any response you have dies on your tongue, stunned and a bit timid as he pulls you forward off the counter, chest to chest. Otto has one of his arms curled under your rear, the other hand splayed at the middle of your back as he walks to the living room.

He insists, "You need to sleep."

Otto supposes he really should have just set you down after pulling you off the counter, but that doesn't necessarily mean he needs to detangle from you right now...just when he reaches your door. And when your legs aren't quite so snug around him. Of course.

Flustered, you pull back from his neck and remind him, "Sleep is easier said than done. Drinks and blankets help but it's only temporary, it comes back and I wake up."

He pauses before he can reach the hallway, scowling at your predicament. And then he wonders about you taking initiative to boldly press to him for what he had first considered to be emotional comfort...but now? You're not shivering as much so...

He offers curiously, "Body heat?"

Your mouth open, closes, then opens again, "I..um.."

Reflexive embarrassment fades as you take a moment to really think about it; you had had short professional relationships in your life, tentative friendships when you were younger that you had abandoned in the end, holding everyone at arm's length...when was the last time you had indulged in a simple hug? When you were a child?

You answer quietly, "I don't know."

Otto redirects his path and walks to the sofa instead, listening, "It's possible? I never really had the chance to find out, never mind finding the trust for it. It just didn't seem like a good idea to get that close to someone, anyone. It was too much of a risk, all things considered."

The large man understands, in a way. He knows his brothers would understand this kind of hesitation as well; caution had to be taken in many aspects of their lives working for the Commission as assassins, they still remember the early paranoia itching at the back of their minds when they first started. Luckily they had each other to rely on in their lives, not to mention the later experience to read intent and confidently indulge in a good fuck every now and then to chase away the touch deprivation.

But you...you had adopted solitude from a much earlier age, had molded your life around isolation. Sure, it wasn't exactly the same, but the similarities were there.

As he unwinds your legs from him so he can sit comfortably with you on his lap, his mind slips unbidden to other thoughts. Your earlier mention of a lack of social interaction and now admitting to a lack of touch confirmed that there were certain...activities...you had never experienced. Oscar had a point when he teased eating you out; the thought of your spread thighs shaking in his hands at the unfamiliar feeling of his wet mouth on you is intoxicating, but it may also be a necessary extra preparation before he fucks y-

Otto rips his mind from lurid thoughts, reminding himself to concentrate on his original effort to help you. Hopefully that would prevent his cock from rising to attention under your soft rear. You peer at the large man; he had gone quiet for a moment, drifting away...maybe he was processing or finding the words he wanted to say? 

You eye the flush on his face, concerned for a moment that your actions had finally made him uncomfortable before he flicks his hair out of his face and asks with a mild strain, "Curious so..find out? Answer?"

You consider putting an end to your invasion of his space, time, and sleep, feeling you had imposed enough. Strangely though, you don't quite seem to have the will to pull away from Otto. You find yourself relenting and accepting. It was too tempting, the thought of finally having relief from this stubborn cold spell. You'd brush aside your shyness and impropriety, especially if it meant you could finally sleep through the night undisturbed.

With your consent, Otto pulls you down to the couch on your sides with you still tucked in to him. Reaching for the quilt on the back of the sofa, he tugs it down and gives a couple of good single-handed shakes to unfold it before tossing it messily over the two of you with a grunt. His ears burn when he hears the muffled giggle at his minor predicament reverberate against his chest, responding to you with a huff, "Sleep."

And you do. You sleep for hours right through the night and well into morning as your body insists on you taking the opportunity.

Otto wakes to the sound of his younger brother wandering out of their guest room, but his eyes remain closed, more interested in focusing on the feel of your soft weight on his chest. Oscar wanders in to the living room to offer Butternut and Pumpkin a morning scratch, but notices the quilt missing from the back of the sofa. Figuring the cats might have messed with it, he wanders over to the aforementioned piece of furniture and nearly doesn't believe his eyes when he sees who are resting on the cushions. Is this an emergency? It has to be. He has to show Axel, it is an emergency.

Otto's ears perk as he listens to Oscar retreat to their room and return a moment later with an extra set of footsteps. Both feet stop at the back of the sofa, and the reclining man feels a pair of eyes looking intently down upon the two of you. Otto cracks open an eye, muttering that you most likely won't be up for a while longer. With a sigh, Axel trudges off to the kitchen to prepare food, insisting on a replay of last night's events when he's finished.

Earlier on, your habit of staying up late and waking in the night had made the eldest and his brothers a bit...antsy. As time went on their suspicions quickly died down, reasoning that your habits were simply a mild form of insomnia. They've all had their fair share of sleepless nights, yet over the course of a couple of weeks, you had steadily been staying up longer and longer and appearing more weary by the day. And as you fought to keep up, they could only watch with growing concern as you were slowly submerged. They had began to wonder if the culprit was something else.

As Axel prepares coffee and breakfast, Oscar heads off to check on the kittens and feed them while you are indisposed of. Otto waits patiently for his brothers to return and give him what he knows will be their undivided attention. He dips his chin down to watch you curiously; judging from your slow deep breathing, you are still very much dead to the world. Well, he supposes this means you both found the answer to the question of body heat to be a firm 'yes'. His brothers return shortly, leaning against the back of the sofa and eyeing you with not so subtle relief.

Otto begins his retelling by first asserting that it hadn't been insomnia like they thought, but an old injury made into a persistent condition by your ability. And just like he had found himself incensed as you accidentally revealed bits of your attack, so too did his brothers become possessive and protective; their lips twitching with the urge to bare teeth, postures tense and eyes blazing. Of course Oscar's rage was the most outwardly evident, but he knew how to read Axel. They were all mad dogs really, all of them.

The surprise on their faces when he revealed your kill was satisfying to say the least. Their expressions gradually changed to approval as they processed the information; it was hard to believe that you, tiny little sweetheart that you are, had actually killed someone. Of course anyone in a dire situation could be capable of things they hadn't thought possible, but you ripped a man to shreds. As a kid. Not to mention you did it with your bare hands? Well...maybe not bare per se.

Axel rests his elbows atop the sofa, hands clasped together as his attention returns once again to your ability. Oscar peers down at you in fascination and quiet disbelief. The eldest and youngest brothers' thoughts are eerily similar, the two men compare your unanticipated ferocity with the first time they saw your Phase; when Otto had caught you, the claws on your hands hadn't seemed all that significant...but then again they hadn't really asked all that much about the aspects of your ability, hadn't felt the need as they had taken your changes at face-value.

But what if there was more to it than general appearance? They weren't threatened, no, they were intrigued. After all, you had proven time and time again that you weren't interested in fighting or killing, even as they presented themselves as threats to you more than once...and not once did you attack them.

Needless to say, they have some more questions for you when you wake up. And perhaps a couple of changes as well.

[poliel]

Midnight Snack

I felt bad about feeding Gramble in the game so I wrote this.

~

Staying up until midnight or beyond was pretty normal for Buddy but unusual for most others in their experience. So it was pretty surprising to see Gramble up and about at such a time. Whatever though, with how fucked their sleep cycle was they had no right to be judging anyone else for such a thing.

They slowed as they passed Gramble, expecting the usual greeting or perhaps a hypocritical attempt at a scolding for being out and about so late. … But instead Gramble mumbled something utterly unintelligible followed by an almost snore like sound. It was enough to make Buddy turn to face him in concern.

“Maybe you should go to…” They trailed off because Gramble was clearly not awake. His eyes were only half-open and twitching as he stumbled onward, holding his hands out almost as if he were a zombie. He mumbled some more as he meandered past Buddy.

Curious, Buddy pulled out their snaxscope to take a picture of Gramble before settling into following him. Perhaps he had some secret, either of the scandalous variety or buried treasure, that he’d betray by sleepwalking to it. Or maybe he’d wonder into his secret lover’s hut – like perhaps Wiggle’s – or… or maybe he was just going in a circle.

It wasn’t even a large circle, just out to the campfire circle and then back around to his barn. That was hardly interesting. Sitting around and watching him for a while longer only confirmed that it was indeed a circle. Almost like he was patrolling the area. … Perhaps that was exactly what he was doing since he seemed rather stressed about the possibility of everyone else in town trying to steal the bugsnax from his barn.

Maybe Buddy should wake him up. Was it okay to wake a sleep walker? Or did any of those tales children liked to pass around about how waking someone while they were sleep walking could make their heart stop, hold any weight? Probably not, right? So… waking him was probably the thing to do.

Buddy jogged up to him, putting a paw on his shoulder as they made their way around to stand in front of him. He stopped walking but didn’t wake up. He just stood there as if waiting for something. … It’d be super easy to pull a prank on him like this. If they’d had the right kind of marker, they’d have drawn something funny on his face right then and there. But alas, they only had standard pencils with them, no way those could every write on fur. So alas, as fun as it would be to mess with him a little, there was just no way to…

Well actually maybe there was. Didn’t sleep walkers also have a tendency to be sleep eaters too? Buddy had heard that somewhere, hadn’t they? But feeding Gramble a bugsnax would be pretty fucked up. … What would happen if they did though? Would Gramble know it had been them? Or would he assume perhaps that he did it himself while he was asleep? Or… who knows what else? Would still be fucked up though. But… if handed a bugsnax in this state, he probably wouldn’t even eat it anyway. Heck, with how much he loved them despite the fact they clearly didn’t love him back – they didn’t seem capable of having such an emotion – he would probably just hug and cuddle it like usual instead.

So Buddy pulled a spare kweeble out of their pack and handed it to Gramble, placing it in his paws. He mumbled a little but remained fast asleep. The kweeble lifted its spoon horn thing, pressing it against Gramble’s face and mouth, almost as if it wanted to be eaten. If so, it quickly got its wish as Gramble sniffed the air for a couple seconds before lifting it to his mouth and eating it whole. Wow, he must’ve been hungry, huh?

His foot transformed into a kiwi before Buddy could even think to pull out the Snaktivator. Though that might’ve woken him up so it was probably for the best anyway. So instead, holding in a nervous chuckle, they stepped back, letting Gramble continue on his meandering way, his gait now a bit different thanks to his kiwi foot. But… in a technical sense it wasn’t their fault, they’d just handed the snac to Gramble and he’d sleep eaten it all his own. So it’d be fine… probably. And they’d get to see what would happen now, how Gramble would react, that’d be interesting to say the least.

As Gramble wondered into the barn, breaking Buddy’s line of sight, they turned and tiptoed over to the donation box. To make up for their technically sort of not wrong-doing, they donated the rest of the bugsnax in their pack to the barn. That ought to make Gramble pretty happy, right? Enough to make up for the kiwi foot though? … Perhaps? Buddy turned and headed off out of town once more, they had to bring back food for the rest of the town and weren’t sleepy anyway.

***

Rare was he day Gramble woke feeling fully rested. As always part of him just wanted to lie here and try to get more sleep but with the sunlight shining in through the un-curtained window it was hard and he needed to get downstairs to take care of the little ones. They were depending on him, so out of bed it was.

He groaned as he sat up. Lifting his paws, he roughly rubbed the sides of his face, waking himself up a little bit more. He then reached over and grabbed his strabby hat off the night stand and pulled it on over his head as he slid off the bed.

He took two steps towards the stairs and paused. Something was wrong with his foot. Confused, he looked down at it. … A kiwi? Why was his foot a kiwi? That didn’t make any sense, how could his foot suddenly be a…

Bugsnax! He’d seen the others who’d eaten kweebles have such transformations. Which meant… “Charwee!”

He rushed towards the stairs. He’d eaten in his sleep before, not often since coming to the island since there wasn’t a set fridge to wonder to, but a few times for sure so this was nothing new. But what if last night he’d wondered to Charwee’s pen and… did the unthinkable?!

But no, as Gramble reached the bottom of the stairs and rushed over, even before he’d quite reached it, he could already see Charwee safe in his pin. “Oh, thank goodness you’re all right.” Bending over the fence, he reached one shaky paw over to pet Charwee’s fuzzy back, earning a cute little, “Kweeble, kweeble, kweeble.”

But even if it hadn’t been Charwee it was undeniable he’d eaten a kweeble. Which was not much better. So with a little sniffle, he straightened and set to work checking over the rest of the little ones.

It didn’t take long, the barn wasn’t exactly large. None seemed to be missing as far as he could tell. But… there were new snax. Buddy must’ve been by sometime last night with backpack full of donations. It was verylikely there’d once been a kweeble among them that Gramble had somehow ended up eating.

He took a deep breath to steady himself and hold back his growing nausea. Though perhaps he could still vomit up… No, that wouldn’t do any good. The kweeble was dead no matter what and throwing up probably wouldn’t undo the transformation. All it would do is make him even more miserable. So… he’d just have to deal with the fact that he’d done something terrible while asleep and do his best to make sure it never happened again.

***

It was noon by the time Buddy was wondering back into town with their backpack full of bugsnax and their head full of regrets. The lack of coffee made staying up for such long periods of time significantly harder. How had they ever survived without it? As soon as they were done doling out the spoils of their hunt, they were going to…

“Hey pal?”

Buddy paused, turning their head to look at Gramble, sticking his head out of the barn’s side door. He stepped all the way out as Buddy approached with a, “Yeah?” They kept their voice neutral, not even letting on that they were running on like four hours of sleep in the last two or so days.

“Could you help me with something?” he asked, shifting nervously. Up close, it was almost hard not to look at his kiwi foot and impossible to miss the look of dismay on his face. He clearly wasn’t mad though which indicated he had no clue about what Buddy had done last night.

“Uh, sure. What is it?” As if Buddy didn’t already know what this was about.

Gramble glanced around and took a deep breath before replying. “See, I’ve got a bad habit of walking around in my sleep. And, uh… looks like I’ve been eating in my sleep, too.” He held up his kiwi foot as if it were possible to miss. “So if you see me sleep walking, be sure to wake me up, okay?”

Yep, as expected. But even so Buddy had to fight to maintain a neutral expression and tone. “All right. I will make sure to do that if I ever catch you sleep walking.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it. And uh, I appreciate how many snax you been donating to the barn lately too. It’s nice having a big family.”

“You’re welcome. I got stuff to go do now though so see you later.”

“Yeah, okay. See you.”

Buddy’s felt almost sick with guilt as they walked away. That had been a real fucked up thing to do. Interesting seeing how Gramble handled it, sure – though seeing his reaction to waking up and finding out would’ve been far better, missing that was Buddy’s own fault for not snooping around the barn this morning – but still a very bad thing that they shouldn’t have done. Too late now though so… that was just one more secret they were going to have to take to their grave.

[commander-rahrah]

RESIDENCY: SECOND CHANCES (AN OPEN HEART FIC): PART FOUR

Pairing: MC (Jordynne Holland) X Ethan Ramsey X Bryce Lahela; MC X Bryce; MC X Ethan. Please note that both pairings are present in this fan fiction — off & on, at the same times, and the relationships do ebb & flow. Please keep this in mind. Thank you.

Masterlist: Click Here

Chapter Rating: T

Word Count: 3940+

Description:  Everybody’s first day back at Edenbrook. Is this second year everything they will need it to be?

Disclaimer: Characters, storyline, and parts of the dialogue are taken from Pixelberry’s Choices. They fully own the characters, dialogue, backgrounds, etc. MC Jordynne’s background is my own creation, based loosely off of MC in-game’s personality and provided with more details.

Author’s Note: Ha. Soooo, its been a while. A long while. Many factors went into delaying updating this fic. First of all -- the pandemic. I am an essential worker. I am tired, and stressed. Yes, still. I am tired. I wake up, drive, work, drive, home, eat, sleep. That’s it. My freetime, creativity. mental health, etc. has been at an all time low. Second of all -- life. Soooo much has happened for my little family. My partner and I bought our first home and rescued our absolutely gorgeous puppy from a rescue shelter. It can be a bit hard to find time to write between putting your entire life into boxes, not having any furniture for 3 months and chasing after a puppy. Third -- I honestly felt like I lost my touch with my characters after reading Open Heart 2. The hiatus was understandable but long. There were chapters that were amazing, and heartbreaking and made me feel like I was soooo excited to write them. And then... by the end of Book 2... I felt lost? My favorite characters voices seem muffled. And I wasn’t sure how I was going to keep going. Do I ignore scenes/rewrite them? Would that compromise the premise of my fic? Being a fic that is in addition to the original PB story? I’m still a little lost if I am completely honest. Fourth -- general posting anxiety. Which I try so hard to avoid, and not think of. But comparison games, lack of notes and activity can get to you when you open yourself creatively online. 

But messages of encouragement and inquiries into the next update helped! And I thank everyone who checked in on the fic and on me to see what was going on ♡♡♡ Honestly, I felt like I had no time to write, and even if I did I wasn’t motivated or inspired enough to do it. Tonight, I felt good. The news of OH3 was a bit of a kick starter for me I won’t lie. But I want to get back into these character’s heads -- I want to figure out the god damn mess that Jordynne has made for herself with Ethan and Bryce!! 

As always any likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated. If you would like to be added/removed from the tag list please just let me know! It has been a long time since the fic updated so please let me know if you no longer want to be tagged or want to be tagged. 

Taglist: @drakewalkerfantasy​ @owleyes-374​ @lahelable​ @mayah-mahdy @paisleylovergirl​ @nicquix​ @emilymay100​ @octobereighth​ @llamasgrl​ @timmagicktoad​ @lilyofchoices @msjpuddleduck​ @mfackenthal​ @paulfwesley​ @ccolz88-blog​ @mindlessdreaminxo @jooous​ @lapisreviewsstuff​ @choicesarehard​ @themingdynasty​ @omgjasminesimone​ @hopelessly-shipper​ @binny1985​ @perriewinklenerdie​ @jens-diamondchoices​ @indiacater​ @chasingrobbie​ @writingsbymissy @dimitriwife​ @tacohead13​ @amy-choices @mrsmatsuo @checkurwindow​ @imrookieramsey​ @bitchloveskcbaseball​ @mrs-ramsey​

Previous Updates: Residency — Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen Part Fifteen Part Sixteen Part Seventeen Part Eighteen Part Nineteen

Residency: Second Chances – Part One Part Two Part Three

Bryce stood near the entrance to Edenbrook — shuffling from one foot to another. Both hands were wrapped around paper coffee cups — one of which he took a careful sip of. 

So he had stopped to get her a latte from her favorite café. He knew she would probably be in a huge rush to get to work early and wouldn’t stop to get one. He wanted her day to start off right. At least he hadn’t shown up to the apartment.

Well, the thought had crossed his mind but he had quickly pushed it away. This was about being her friend. He just wanted Jordynne to have a good first day.

His dark eyes kept flicking towards the subway stairs, waiting patiently for that familiar blonde head to come bobbing up. Placing one of the cups on top of the other, he balanced them carefully as he dug into his jeans pocket for his phone. Maybe she had texted — 

“Oh Bryce — hey!” His ears perked up at the voice, and was met with a warm smile. The smile that occupied his waking dreams. He liked being the reason for that smile. 

“Hey Jordy!” God, why did he sound so breathless.

“Happy first day as a resident!” He shoved his phone back into his pocket, before grabbing onto her latte and extending it out, “I thought you should be extra caffeinated for your day, so I got you...” But his voice trailed off as he realized she was already clutching a travel mug to her chest. “Oh you already got one.”

“Uh, yeah,” Her smile turned sheepish, “I had the exact same thought process as you actually.” 

“Heh—,” he chuckled, “I guess I know you pretty well.” 

Her green eyes flashed with a look he couldn’t quite read, “Guess you do.” “Well, do you want it still...?” He held out the lukewarm latte again, unsure what to do with it. 

“Hey, I’m still Jordynne Holland. When have I ever denied extra caffeine?” Bryce’s white teeth bit his lip as they stretched into a smile. He handed her the cup — their fingers grazing slightly. 

“Thanks.” 

They fell into step behind the other roommates, trailing into the hospital. As they walked together, Bryce suddenly struggled to find what to say. He had never been one to stay quiet — usually he was the outspoken one. But now he just watched her grasp onto her two coffee cups tightly, her eyes low as she walked into Edenbrook. 

Once they made there way into the staff locker room, they separated to their own lockers. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she carefully sat her two drinks down, before grabbing her white coat. She slipped it on effortlessly, before wrapping her stethoscope around her neck. Flipping her blonde ponytail out, she turned to speak with Sienna — her voice to low for him to hear.

Jordynne looked amazing — her lean legs and hips wrapped in a deep green skirt that showed off just enough that it was both sexy and tasteful. Her high necked pale blouse brought out her olive skin. She could be the woman on the front of the pamphlets they hand out to pre-med undergrads. She already was the doctor she was aspiring to be — and he knew she would fit in well with the Diagnostics team. He thought of Ramsey — his pressed trousers, and leather dress shoes. His watch that probably cost more then Bryce’s car. Grinding his molars, he looked down at the wrinkles trousers and Nikes in his hands. Peeling his shirt off he tossed it gently into his locker, letting out a sigh.

But he quickly masked it as Jordynne went to leave the locker room. “Hey,” He caught her attention before she went to leave, “You’re gonna kill it, Holland.” 

“Thanks Lahela,” She gave him that smile again. The one that made everything flutter. 

“I’ll save you a seat at lunch?”

“Oh—“ Her eyebrows furrowed slightly in the middle, “I’m not sure how my day will look with the team... I’ll play it by ear?” She offered, looking a little guilty. 

“Yeah— yeah of course...” His voice sounded a little strained. “We’ll catch you later.” 

She nodded at him, pushing her hands into her pockets, “Okay, yeah. See you guys in the atrium,” She called out over her shoulder, her blonde ponytail swinging as she walked away. 

Bryce’s brown eyes flickered over to the rest of her roommates, who were all watching with slightly worried looks. It was starting to settle in. Maybe this second year, this second chance — was the beginning of everything changing. ________________________________________________________________ He had originally come up here to get accustomed to his new surroundings. Get a lay of the land. The board had spared no expense with the new wing expansion — and the Diagnostic team’s new office was no joke. 

Ethan was standing across the hall from the room — staring into the room through the glass walls. Everything inside was sleek, shiny and new. His hands were bunched up fists in the pockets of his trousers, and the tie around his neck felt a little tight. Had he forgotten what all of this was like while he was away?  

Thirty minutes he had stood there. 

Thirty. 

Standing there and imagining where he would sit at the table — discussing with the team, leading them to the right diagnosis. Researching at the desk, pouring over the hundred books that was supplied for them in there. 

But the picture in his head was fuzzy. Even in his imagination Ethan felt like something didn’t feel right. What was it? 

The team? No. Mirani and Hirata always did excellent work. He could rely on them.

Was it that Naveen was missing? So many of his biggest successes with the team was with Naveen. And he definitely felt his absence this past year. He had also never really adjusted to the idea of being the team lead for the department. It was thrust upon him, not once but twice. And both times he had been unprepared. Being a leader wasn’t exactly what he had always hoped for in his career.

Ethan’s thick brows were furrowed as he thought, the gears in his mind whirling. Why had he been staring at the office for thirty minutes? What was stopping him from going inside and just doing his damn work? That’s what he came back for — so what was his trepidation? 

The light flickering on in the diagnostic teams office brought him back to reality. The room was illuminated, the white light shining through the glass walls and spilling into the hall. 

There she was. 

Jordynne stood at the entrance of the office, her back facing him as she took it all in. She hadn’t notice him from across the large hallway. Ethan stepped back into the shadows — hoping she wouldn’t see him capturing the moment. A silent laugh escaped him as he watched her set not one, but two coffee cups down onto the table. His lips remained upturned as he watched her wander deeper into the room, running her fingers over the smooth surface of the whiteboard. She had a soft smile on her face as she looked around her. 

“Good morning Dr. Ramsey!”

Ethan almost hissed at the sound of the cheerful voice next time. Looking over he saw Dr. Baz Mirani standing next to him with a wide smile spread across his face. 

“Morning,” He grumbled, looking back to his view of the diagnostics office where Jordynne had started to settle in. 

“That’s Dr. Holland right?” Baz followed his line of sight, and watching her for a moment. “Are you going to head in?” The young doctor questioned, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. 

He cleared his throat, before shaking his head, “You go ahead.”

The young man didn’t think anything of it, and marched over into the office. Ethan could hear their muffled voices through the glass as they introduced each other.

He noticed the next person that came up to him — Dr. Hirata. She gave him a nod, before pausing for a moment and staring at him in the dark side of the corridor. He could tell she was calculating, attempting to deduce what was keeping him out of their new office. But her face remained neutral and she turned on her heel and headed into the room. 

Maybe there were too many variables for her to figure it out too. 

His blue eyes watched as the three colleagues got familiar with each other, shaking hands and pleasantries. Maybe this would be a perfect time to go in. He had missed the awkward introductions — the worst part was over. He just had to go into the room. 

Running his hands over his white coat, Ethan crossed the hall and stepped into the brand new office. 

“Introductions done?” He asked, his thick brows raised. He glanced over them quickly, not long enough to make any eye contact. “Great. We’ve got work to do.” The glass door behind him gently hissed as it closed — leaving them all in the office together. 

Ok. First step done.

“We have an incoming patient from Manhattan Presbyterian.” The trio slid apart to make room for him as he marched to the board, pining up an abdominal CT scan. 

Jordynne, June and Baz grabbed a spot at the circular wooden table in the middle of the room. 

“Can you describe the patient?”

“Male, aged 45. Asian American.” He watched as Jordynne took out her trusty little black notebook, and started jotting down notes. 

“Symptoms?” 

“He presented with a fever, vomiting and diarrhea, and was treated for the flu. He returned several days later with enlarged lymph nodes, abdominal pain, and a rash on his shoulder.” Grabbing onto a black marker, he started to write the known symptoms down on the white board. With his back turned to the group for a moment, he let the corners of his lips turn up for a split second. This felt good. “What did his former doctors think it was?” 

“Hodgkin lymphoma.” He made sure he kept his face neutral -- to not give any answers away. 

June scoffed, “Amateurs. And his blood?” 

He almost laughed.

As the conversation started to amp up, Ethan slipped back into his role on the diagnostics team easier then he had imagined. Bouncing off of each other during the differential — he had missed this. 

Then he realized Jordynne hadn’t said anything. She was sitting in her chair, looking slightly awestruck. But she was still writing notes diligently and observing them going back and forth. 

“Six months ago, however, he was admitted for flu-like symptoms and a rash on his arm.” Ethan continued, drawing his eyes away from her and focusing back on the conversation. 

“That could be the key. Did they biopsy it?” Baz asked, eyebrows raised and face hopeful. 

He pursed his lips, “They didn’t.”

“Any history of dermatitis?” 

“Was he on any medication prior to being admitted?” 

June and Baz asked one after the other, going through their mental lists. “No and no.” 

“It could be cutaneous Kikuchi disease.” Hirata suggested. But she didn't do suggestions -- she diagnosed. 

Interesting.  

June had gotten there first. But she was always like that. It was a race for her.  

“The symptoms do add up.” Dr. Mirani nodded, giving his colleague a look of approval. 

“I agree.” 

There was a knock on the door, and they looked up to see Danny on the other side of the glass. Ethan waved him in where he announced the patient's arrival at Edenbrook.

“Excellent. Dr. Holland,” He spoke directly to her for the first time that morning —holding his breath as he waited for her reaction. But her face remained neutral, looking up at him through her lashes as she waited for him to finish, “Run a biopsy on the patient’s rash. If we’re correct, we’ll begin the patient on a treatment of nonsteroidal anti-inflammatories and prednisone.” 

He noticed her swallow for a moment, listening to her instructions. “And if we’re wrong?” 

“We’ll re-evaluate.” 

“But we won’t need to,” June said confidently, leaning across the table at Jordynne with a wink. 

“Team dismissed. I’ll page you if I need you again today.” He turned around, going back to the white board to add their final notes and treatment plan. 

Out of his peripheral vision he saw Baz put a gentle hand on Jordynne’s shoulder. He lowered his head to speak in her softly, “I made the same face my first few days on the team. You’ll get used to it.”  

Ethan crossed over to his desk to find the patient's file. Rummaging in his pockets, he found his glasses and slid them on. Without looking up from his file, he spoke to Jordynne who had remained in the room, “After you’re done with our patient, you can see Ines and Zaid for further assignments. You’ll be balancing your work here with your usual resident duties. Now that you’re in your second year, that will include rotations at the free clinic.” 

“Yes, Dr. Ramsey.” Her voice was so professional, so trained. He had never heard her sound like that. It was like she had practiced.

He heard the sound of her crossing the room, and stepping towards the door. But then she hesitated. “Will we always diagnose a patient without seeing them?” She asked. 

“No, but we’re often asked for help by other hospitals all over the country, so it’s a good habit to keep our blind diagnosis skills sharp.” He finally looked up from his file, using his finger as a bookmark in it. But when he looked over to, his stomach flipped slightly as he found that her green eyes already staring at him.

He could see her hesitation, and maybe some nerves. She had just been thrown into the deep end -- and it seemed she was struggling to stay afloat. 

“Is everything alright, Jordynne?” 

He couldn’t help himself. Plus, it was his responsibility to ensure her success on the team now. It was apart of his job to check in on her.

“Actually...,” She made sure the glass door closed, before stepping further into the room, “Could we talk?” Her fingers were knotted together in front of her -- she looked nervous, and vulnerable. 

Ethan studied her for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek, “About the job? Or about us?” 

Her eyebrows furrowed for a moment, like she was in pain. But it was for just for the smallest moment -- he had barely even caught it. “The job.”

Placing the file down, he pulled a chair from the center table out for her where they sat down together. He adjusted his glasses on the crook of his nose, before settling into his chair. “I’m all yours,” He said, folding his hands carefully on top of each other on the table as he waited for her to speak up.

“Dr. Ramsey...," A flicker of doubt crossed her face, before she opened her mouth, "How are you sure you made the right diagnosis?"

Grabbing the file in front of him, he pulled out the patient's previous charts and placed them in front of them. “In medicine, the most logical answer is usually the correct one. In this case, the most obvious answer was Hodgkin lymphoma.”

“But the other hospital had already eliminated Hodgkin lymphoma.” She finished for him. 

“Correct. Which allowed us to take it off the board and considered the next most logical answer.” He pointed back over his shoulder to the symptoms he had written on the board in his chicken scratch, “The patient had a persistent rash. Paired with the symptoms present, the most logical answer is Kikuchi disease." He met her eye easily across the table, before matching her vulnerability, "But as to how I’m so sure, I’m not. Which is why you’ll be running a biopsy. We need to trust in our diagnostic instincts, but the second we let arrogance overrule the results, we fail as doctors.” 

“So I should use logic... and be humble?” Her eyebrows were tugging in the middle as she processed his advice.  

“And read journals. I want you to turn yourself into a walking disease encyclopedia. You can’t diagnose the patient if you don’t study up. If the patients we saw had more common diseases... they’d never have been referred to us in the first place.” 

“Got it.” She nodded -- eyeing the bookshelves behind them that were filled with textbooks.

“So what did you think of the team?" He asked curiously, "It was the three of us under Naveen last year, until he put himself out to pasture.” 

A soft chuckle escaped her, “You mean became Chief of Medicine?”

He smiled at the sound, “Precisely.” 

“Well, we just met but I think I liked Baz.” Jordynne offered, pursing her lips.  

“He’s hard to dislike. Walking proof that genetics aren’t everything.” 

“When did he join the team?”

“A couple years ago, when Zaid began his residency. He sought a position here to be closer to his brother.” 

Her eyebrows raised in surprise, “Can’t believe Zaid would be okay with that.” 

“Supposedly, the old chief cleared it with Zaid before he approved the transfer. But I heard a rumor that it was Baz, dressed up pretending to be Zaid.” 

Her mouth fell open, “He wouldn’t!” 

He shrugged, a cheeky smile spreading across his face. “I don’t pay any mind to rumors.” 

She smirked back at him -- and he could feel the nervousness and ice melting between them. They could do this. 

Two colleagues conversing normally. This was fine. 

“So if I want to get on Baz’s good side, how do I go about that?” She leaned in a bit more towards him, putting her elbow on the table and resting her chin on her fist. 

Ethan thought for a moment before replying, “Baz is earnest to a fault. He respects authenticity more than anything so... as much as I despise saying anything so incredibly banal, my advice would be... “be yourself”,” He grimaced as the words left his mouth. 

“Oof—“ She chuckled, “That must have hurt to say aloud.” She knew him well. “That’s why you’ll never hear it again.” 

She let out another laugh, but this one sounded more sad. Then a sigh escaped her, and she started picking at her lip, “I thought I was so ready for this year. How do I feel like a clueless intern all over again?”

“Because you are clueless, relatively speaking.” 

She frowned, “Gee, thanks.”

His stomach dropped -- that's not what he meant. “It wasn't an insult," He scrambled to get out, "You get to spend the second year of your residency in a small room with over three decades of collective medical knowledge and experience. Learn from it. Be inspired to become a better doctor from it.” He looked up, and found her already looking at him again. His thick brows furrowed, “What is it?” 

“Oh uh... your glasses...," Her words trailed off as she looked at him, "They make you look smart.” She sounded a little breathless. 

He did his best to ignore how that made him feel, the blush that might have been creeping up on his cheeks. So he hid between cheek and tongue. “You’ve caught me. The illusion behind my status. Without these I’m a simpering moron.”

The pair was quiet for a beat, before bursting out laughing. As they laughed, she casually tapped his hand with hers. “Thank you,” She spoke again, but this time her voice was quiet. 

Her fingers had lingered on his hand, so she gave it a squeeze. They were cold on his warm skin.

Ethan's jaw set as he felt those familiar sparks. Jordynne...” His voice was a warning. It was only the first hour of their first day. 

“I know.” She said carefully, but she looked down at the table. 

“We’ll be okay. We’ll make it work.” 

He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince. 

“Yeah,” She breathed out. 

He moved his thumb gently across her fingers, daring to give her just that smallest bit of comfort. But the sound of the glass door whooshing open caused him to rip his hand away. 

“Whoops! Forgot my pager! That could have been very bad!” Baz strolled back into the office -- oblivious to what he had just walked in on. 

Both Ethan and Jordynne bolted out of their chairs, stepping away from each other. 

“Hmm. Yes. It’s right over there on the table.” Ethan pointed before shoving his guilty hands into his lab coat.

“I’ll get those tests run.” Jordynne had moved to the door, her arms crossed over her chest and face flushing red with embarrassment. 

“Excellent. Thank you.” He said with a nod, watching as she turned on her heel and marched down the hallway. 

Why was nothing ever easy with Jordynne Holland? 

Would this year be any different? 

_______________________________________________________________

"Cholecystitis." Jordynne said as she finished adding it to the whiteboard in the diagnostics room. Her perfect block letters standing out drastically against Dr. Ramsey's messy scratch. "Inflamed gull bladder which explains the abdominal pain after eating. Which is entirely separate from Kikuchi disease."

She turned around, capping the pen with a confident smile. Esme was standing near the door, watching the scene unfurl with crossed arms. 

"I have to say, I'm not sure I would have spotted that." June spoke first -- looking mildly impressed. 

"Nice catch, Jordynne." Baz gave her a big smile. 

"Indeed. Especially since we had been diagnosing based on reports, not our own face-to-face interviews. Dr. Holland's specialty has always been listening to her patients. Well done." He gave her a nod, a smile threatening to show on his face. 

"It wasn't just me. Dr. Ortega assisted." She nodded to her intern at the door. She knew that drove Ethan crazy -- passing along credit to her colleagues. But Esme deserved it. 

"Hey," Esme nodded her head at the trio from the corner of the room, attempting a smile.

"So this is your intern?" Ramsey stepped forward, eyebrows raised. "Well, Dr. Ortega...," He sized her up for a moment, before moving his steely eyes over to Jordynne. "Dr. Holland's one of our best. Consider yourself lucky."

Jordynne felt warmth spread in her chest -- feeling proud of herself. High praise from Dr. Ramsey -- everything between them aside. 

"I do, Dr. Ramsey." 

"Keep me updated on his treatment." Ethan asked politely, before filing out of the room with the rest of the diagnostics team. 

"So I guess you're pretty good at this." Her intern looked at her with a little smirk. "You saw for yourself, I learned from the best. Edenbrook has some of the best doctors in America, and you'll learn from them all. And not just the attendings, but your fellow interns too. I wouldn't have made it through without my friends."

"You telling me to what... be more social?" Esme looked up at her -- her face filled with doubt.

She shrugged, the corners of her lips tugging up, "It can't hurt."

"It definitely can."

"Donahue's from the other night? That's where everyone goes. But first, let's get you back to your patients." Jordynne started to shuffle out of the office, but Esme's voice stopped her. 

"Right... Hey, Dr. Holland? Thanks for not bailing on me. Gotta say, that's a new one." She sounded genuine.

"Sure thing, Ortega. I got your back." 

This year could be different.

[undertalethingems]

Bark at the Moon, Chapter 5: Lapse

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Or read on my Ao3>

Rating, Setting: Gen, Pre-canon

Chapter Warnings: None?

Chapter Summary: Papyrus is left to his own devices...

Papyrus rubbed at bleary eyes. Normally he was perfectly fine staying up all night, but with things being so stressful and hectic lately, he’d found himself sleeping more despite the threat of nightmares and his natural insomnia. He'd tried to stay up and keep watch, just in case.

But Sans had never come home last night. Papyrus had checked, in case he'd slipped past him while he napped,but the rooms were empty as ever. He found himself pacing the floor anxiously, at a loss for what else to do and his mind buzzing. He’d have to call Undyne and say he was out sick again… He hated lying like this, but he hated the thought of telling the truth more. He'd have to keep up the act. Well, it wasn't like he'd never done that before.

“Hello, Undyne, it is me, Papyrus,” he said into the receiver when it was time, sounding appropriately regretful. “Sans is still sick. I am still… you know. So. Neither of us can work. Again. I am very sorry.”

“Papyrus, it’s okay,” Undyne replied, sounding more sympathetic than she had a right to. “I know you guys are having a hard time. Just take care of yourselves and I’ll worry about the rest, got it?”

“Very well! Thank you,” he replied, and hung up, grateful for her patience. He laughed to himself--patience was not a quality he typically associated with Undyne. He'd have to make it all up to her somehow--he'd already slacked off far too much. But what could he do from his position? If only Sans had bothered to get his own cell phone...

Papyrus sighed. Maybe Sans had just fallen asleep somewhere strange—he did that sometimes. But what if someone found him? What if he reacted badly again and hurt them? He wouldn’t mean it of course, but who would know that? What if they were both found out and never treated the same again…?

Papyrus turned back to pacing the floor, a dozen thoughts whirling through his head at any given moment. Lunchtime came and went, and before long it was evening. But there was still nothing from Sans, and he wondered if this was how Sans had felt when he’d run away. His pacing trailed to a halt. How could he have done this to his own brother?

Tears, unbidden and stinging, sprung to the skeleton’s sockets and rolled down his cheeks. He sank to the floor with a hushed sob, shuddering. He missed Sans, had missed him so much, and then they'd gone and fought over what were silly, small things really! And now Sans had run away--he’d transformed himself after doing goodness knew what, blamed himself for acting on instinct, and almost given up on himself completely. He was in no state to be alone.

No, no, he was fine, Papyrus assured himself. He couldn't give up hope! Sans had been in a bad way, but he’d been bad before and always managed to pull out of it. He wouldn’t do anything foolish, surely--he had to believe in him, trust that he'd come back when he was ready. Papyrus dried his tears, took a few deep breaths, and headed up to his room to browse the Undernet for a while. At least he could see what everyone else was up to.

And he wouldn’t sleep, just in case Sans made it home tonight. Or the next night. Or the one after that. Whenever he came back, he'd be ready.

But it wasn’t a week before he got stir-crazy. The house wasn’t exactly small, but he was starting to feel like its walls were pressing in on him and there was no real room to stretch his legs. Sans wasn't here to take them out somewhere he could run freely. There were only so many times he could vacuum or scrub everything before cleaning lost its appeal too. He’d turned to Sans’ quantum physics books just for something new to read after he’d exhausted his own collection... but the subject made his brain feel fuzzy and his heart ache. Undyne was getting worried too, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could say his brother was sick before she stormed over again to check on them. But he was too afraid of his past getting out to risk leaving the house himself. He’d wait—he was the Great Papyrus! This was nothing he couldn’t handle.

Nothing he couldn't...

 Nothing he...

 He paced the house, falling into a rhythmic path; doorway, living room, upstairs, leap down to the doorway and do it all again. It was moving, and moving felt good, so he kept doing it, over and over until he got tired. His claw caught in the carpet and he hissed at it before tugging free, and discovered it could be torn. Oh, fun! He dug his claws in and pulled with legs and back, ripping up a long strip of the stuff--only to be instantly filled with regret. No! This was making a mess! He didn't make messes, that was the brother he was waiting for, he knew better! He gave a sad trill and tried to put the carpet back, but it was too late. Though tearing it had been fun, he shouldn't do that again. That was bad. He went back to pacing.

Papyrus found a shredded cushion in his jaws. He wasn't even sure what had come over him--it was just soft, and looked nice to bite and--now there were bits of stuffing all over the floor. He... he hadn't meant to destroy it. He dropped the mangled cover and began sweeping up the scattered fluff, then tried to stuff it back into the cushion. But it wouldn't stay in, there were far too many holes, and he ended up pushing it into the corner. He'd deal with it later. After his brother came back. He paced for a while, then headed upstairs when he finally felt tired and curled up in his bed.

A loud, weird sound startled him awake. He waited, and it came again--oh yeah, he knew that sound. He got up and found the little black shiny thing that was making the noise and took it into his jaws... wait that wasn't right. It rung again, and the sound vibrating through his teeth startled him into dropping it. But somehow that did the trick.

"Hey, Papyrus? You there?"

Who--oh yeah! What was her name again--Undyne! It was Undyne's voice! She... sounded worried. He needed to make her not worried, he needed to--to think, to talk!

"Hhhrrhhhh--" he rasped, no, that wasn't right! Come on!

"Papyrus?!" Oh great, now she sounded really worried!

He rumbled a growl and coughed to get the right magic going. "HHHEllo, Undyne, there we go! Forgive me!"

"Er, everything alright there?" she asked, sounding a little less worried. "I haven't heard from you in a few days, and then it was like you couldn't talk just now--what's up?"

Papyrus blinked. Had it really been a only few days that he'd...? "It's fine! I just managed to catch the same thing Sans is sick with. We are both absolutely miserable!"

"Aw geez," Undyne replied. "Well, take care of yourselves, and let me know if you need anything--I'm serious. And if you don't, call me when you're feeling better, okay?"

"Of course! Thank you!" he replied, and she hung up.

Papyrus remained staring at the phone for a while. He'd slipped, let himself get away. Without enough to do, it was easy--even now he wanted to go back to pacing, circling the house like a trapped animal. But wasn't that what he was...?

Well, trapped, yes. Animal? Only in the broadest of terms. He wouldn't let this happen again, he was better than that! Darting over to his bookshelf, he pulled out all his books on puzzle design and spent the rest of the day devising new traps. Despite his claws getting in the way or tearing the paper, he drew blueprints and worked out calculations for mechanisms well into the night--anything to keep his mind sharp. A lack of stimulation invited stagnation.

He'd almost lost himself back in the forest too. Only his determination to work out a solution had kept his mind clear enough that when Sans found him, it hadn't taken too long to reawaken his thoughts once more. But with Sans gone, and his sources of entertainment dwindling... He had to be careful. He drew furiously, covering his floor with blueprints and books and ideas, and for a little while, he felt safe.

Papyrus startled out of a nightmare with heat lingering in his jaws and the smell of smoke filling his nose. Panting, he got to his feet, eyes fixed on the scorched carpet and wall before him. Sharp orange caught his eye, and he swatted at the embers still gnawing at the edges of his diagrams. He checked for more hot spots, found none, shook himself out and crept over to crack a window before retreating downstairs and shiver on the couch.

As much as he hated to admit it... maybe this wasn't something he could handle after all.

It had been a long, long time since he'd attacked anything in his sleep. It wasn't even the first time he'd had this sort of dream--thinking that his brother had died somehow was pretty well played out by now. It almost didn't phase him. But it helped that until now, he'd always been able to check on him, see for a fact that Sans was very much alive and his usual obnoxious self.

But Sans was gone, and had been for a while.

Before that, he hadn't been his usual, obnoxious self.

And a dream that he'd lashed out at their creator, and their creator had struck back and--it was just too much for Papyrus. Even for someone as great as him. He couldn't stand to be alone anymore, but there was only one person he could call.

Reluctantly, haltingly, he shambled upstairs to retrieve his phone, and returned as quickly as he could; the blackened carpet still haunted him. He sat on the floor with his hand hovered over the keypad, trembling. He wasn't really going to do this, was he? Admit he couldn't do something on his own, admit he wasn't perfectly okay and no one should worry about him? Reveal he'd been lying to Undyne...?

But he needed help, for getting food if nothing else--

But he couldn't admit what he'd done, or else she'd be furious--

But he wanted to talk to her, to someone so badly--

He backed away from the phone with a whine and paced around it for a while, torn between his desires until nothing made sense anymore. Lost in anxious thought, the sudden sight of the phone on the floor sent him leaping back with a yelp, and he fled to a corner where he could watch it. The phone was scary.

He flinched when it rung, and hissed at the sudden noise and light as he curled tighter into the corner. He wanted to get away from that thing, but couldn't leave. And it was bad that it was ringing too, he was going to be in trouble! But he couldn't do anything--!

He buried his face into the floor and shuddered long after the phone had stopped. And he jumped a good six feet straight up when the front door practically exploded. Back arched against the wall, he stared wide-eyed at Undyne, who seemed just as shocked.

"Papyrus?!"

He rattled.

In an instant, she was hugging him. He was stiff at first, unsure of the sudden contact--but something in his mind seemed to switch off, and he relaxed. He laid his head across her shoulders, after more than a few shuddering definitely-not-sobs, he sat down slowly. Undyne let him go.

"Hey Papyrus, it's okay. Can you tell me what happened?"

He whined nervously. It was now or never.

“G… gone,” he finally managed to croak, then coughed. “Sans is gone, Undyne... He... The day you came to visit, and I said he was sick, he took a shortcut out and I—I haven’t seen him since! He’s gone...”

Undyne studied him wearing a stunned look. “He left you?”

“Y-yes, though, I don’t know that he meant to be gone so long, I—I don’t think so, not after I left him… Unless… unless he’s still mad at me about that! That has to be it, why else would he...? He, he, he hates me for it, I just know it, I’m a terrible brother!” Papyrus cried, curling in on himself.

“Hey!” she barked, pulling his head up to look at her. “Listen up--there's NO WAY that's true. You matter more than anything else in the world to Sans, even I can see that! When you were gone, he got—he got so bad I don’t think he left the couch for a week. If he was sick, maybe it was some kind of fever dream..."

Papyrus shivered. "...Maybe. But he should have been back by now."

"Provided he's still alive..." Undyne uttered, then realized what she'd said and to who she'd said it. "I mean--! Of course he's alive! He's probably just slacking off somewhere!"

Papyrus couldn't help another whine. "But he always comes home... He's never been gone this long..."

Undyne furrowed her brows and drew back as she thought. "Hold on... If he hasn't been here, but I thought he was just sick... Where the he--uh, heck is he? He's just... gone?"

Papyrus rattled harder. Maybe Sans was dead. He couldn't keep his whimpering from rising to a keening howl.

Undyne winced as her friend broke down, and took his trembling wrists into her hands. “Hey, Papyrus! Listen--I wish you would have told me sooner so we could have gone looking for him. Both of you guys… it’s like, you don’t want anyone to worry, but then these problems aren’t things that just go away if you don’t talk about them, and running away won't help either. I was… I’m terrified we’ll lose you just because you never say when anything is wrong.”

Aside from a muted sob, Papyrus was silent.

“So come on! You want to find your brother, right? Good or bad, we need to figure out what happened. We have to go looking for him.”

“I can’t go out. I can’t. I can’t…” Papyrus whimpered, and Undyne sighed.

“Honestly? I don’t think anyone will recognize you. I know I didn’t, back when Sans first brought you back, and I know you pretty dang well—I mean, I didn't until you spoke. So I’ll do the talking, and if anyone asks we can say you’re a trainee from New Home or something, depending on where we’re looking. I just…” Undyne trailed, eye darting as she thought. “Look. I can’t rest until both you skeletons are back on your feet at 100 percent, because anything else has messed with you both something awful and I hate seeing my friends suffer. So come on. Let’s find Sans and give him what-for for making you worry.”

Papyrus studied her, then managed a soft laugh as he rubbed at his eyes. “Not too much of a what-for though."

Undyne laughed, and helped him stand. "I'll give him exactly the right amount of what-for, how about that? First things first though--I'll make us something to eat and then we can come up with a plan."

Considering he couldn't remember what he'd last eaten, Papyrus nodded. "An excellent plan, Captain Undyne! I'm afraid I've let my usual culinary exploits fall to the wayside, so... that would be nice. Thank you."

"Hey, no problem. Like I said, I wanna see you guys back at 100% sooner rather than later. Come on though, I'm not gonna do it for you!"

Papyrus leapt into action, happy to have the company, happy that Undyne wasn't mad at him. He was still worried about his brother, but they were going to do something about that too. In the meantime, an evening with someone as cool as Undyne wasn't a bad way to spend it. He'd slipped a little, but it was nice to have someone help him back up. Maybe together, they could help Sans too--wherever he was.

[excellentexecution]

@niccolahiromithomas​ asked: Niccola looks down at Brianna, who wiggles and coos up at her with big blue eyes and a head full of wild raven curls. She was a chubby ball of joy for a 3 month old. "Are you sure you will be able to handle Bria and Logan on your own? Your Mum said she had no problem coming to grab Logan to have a Mhamo-and-Garmhac day. Logan loves helping her out in the garden." 

The Irishwoman was looking a bit frazzled herself, hence why she was being sent off for a spa day. Her curls were fuzzy and tangled, her skin a bit broken out, and sweats and a tank had became her new fashion statement since bringing their daughter into the world. 

Hearing his name, the young kindergartener came over to his Mum's side, giving her shoulder a comforting pat. "I promise I'll be extra good for Papa. You look really tired, Mum. You work hard. You deserve a play day like you do for me! Isn't that right, Papa?" the brown eyed boy concluded, looking up to his father for confirmation.

Children asks meme. 

She was looking more and more like her mother with every passing day. Face shaped like Niccola’s, round and curved; Brianna’s nose was just about the only part of her that resembled Bret at all. Prominent but still so pretty, too beautiful was that baby to have come from someone as scrappy as the Hitman. A fact that he knew and spoke about well. A declaration that he told everyone when given the chance, the midwife after the homebirth went without issue and his extended family thereafter. No longer was there strength to stay away. Not from his wife and children, from the home that was so filled with love, a career could wait. Would steady itself and make use of others instead - a series of inchoate stories redesigned into something better than before - a champion needed freedom. Asked for peace of both the mind and the body. Promised to repay the generosity when able, when returned to and healed, McMahon had been kind to Bret. Saw the urgency that surrounded, devotion that colored his eyes unlike any passion prior. Considered sacrifices already done as good. Respectable, honorable, 2 days off turned into 3. Calgary would be a heaven seen soon. 

Watchful as she went about their bedroom, Bret couldn’t have agreed more with the smaller version of himself when it came to Niccola. Older and smarter than anyone else from his years, Logan wasn’t raised a fool. Untamed hair was knotted into thick bunches around his mother’s head. Lines underneath her eyes signaled lack of sleep and stress. Troubles that decorated her expressions even if she was pleased, she needed a break. Quiet that didn’t involve the burdens of parenthood. Selfish pleasures for herself and none else, fatherhood could, and would, relieve the pressures with gentle force. Scoot outside of the home the maker of it. Send Niccola and her belongings toward the local spa - the best who would take care of her. Pamper her in everything that they had, creams and facial lotions whose names weren’t known. Brushes for the curls and polish for the fingernails - expensive brands but trusted ones. Prices that were paid regardless. Relaxation that was wanted for her just as much needed, Niccola had an appointment to go to. 

Bending himself downward, Bret placed a kiss upon Brianna’s cheek, her frame too little for the bed but herself determined as ever to explore every inch. Beside her mother and brother on the comforter, Logan given his own affection as well, his father’s thumb running along his jawline, delicate motions. Niccola never to be ignored, Bret pressed his lips upon her own. A most gentle and certain kiss. A piece of himself for those he loved above his own life. 

“That’s right, my boy. Mom does a lot for us and our family. She deserves a little time to herself.”

Standing no more but rather having taken his own seat, he smiled toward his Niccola, “It’ll be alright. You have no reason to worry. You need to get out of the house. You’ve been locked up inside of it for so long, and I could use some alone time with the kids anyways. We haven’t hung out together in ages. Before I know it, Logan’s gonna be growing a beard and Brianna’s gonna be driving. We need this. The both of us.”

“I want you to go and enjoy yourself, baby. Take however long you need and don’t feel like you have to rush back. We’ll be here waiting for you.”

[avmisworld]

BTS when you’re pregnant:

Kim Seokjin: 

Week 15 of pregnancy meant many things. Things like constantly feeling nauseous, your nose being annoyingly stuffy, and a small baby bump starting to form. It also meant cravings. So much cravings.

You shovel another spoon of peanut butter into your mouth, frowning slightly when you realize the jar is almost empty. You're pretty sure it's the second jar of PB you finished this week, and it's only Tuesday.

You're spread on the couch like a burrito, a huge fluffy blanket wrapped around you tightly, the television playing some cheesy drama, the kind you've been watching for the past weeks religiously.

Throwing away the now clean jar of the spread aside, you don't even hesitate to call your husband, Seokjin, pressing the ringing phone to your ear as you feel another wave of hunger cursing through your body like a hurricane.

"Hey, sweetheart", a small smile makes its way to your face at the sound of Jin's voice, and you feel your body relax for the first time today, curling a bit more into your gray couch.

"Hey", you mumble, blaming your pregnancy for the way your heart suddenly increased its pace, and you grip the phone even harder, trapping it between your ear and the white pillow supporting your back. "Where are you?"

"I'm on my way home. Like, two minutes away.", Jin answers, and despite being very happy to finally see your lover after a long, lonely day, you really need your peanut butter. 

"Well…", you bite your lip before smiling sheepishly, despite Jin not being able to see your face. "Can you turn around? We ran out of peanut butter."

"You finished another jar?", your boyfriend asks, his voice somewhere between exasperated and disbelieving. He never quite understood your weird craving for the spread, mostly because it's such an American food. 

"Yeah.", you say bashfully, and Seokjin sighs against your ear. "Baby, it's all you are eating for the last few days. You need to keep your body healthy.", he says gently, and you huff, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

Of course, Jin was right. You had indeed been eating mostly peanut butter since your cravings started a few weeks ago, and your husband was going crazy seeing you sit on Reese's cups and peanut butter sandwiches all day long.

"But I want peanut butter", you whine into the phone, not caring the least about your childish behaviour, and Jin's silent for a second before he responds. 

"How about this? I come home, make you some real food, and if you don't want it, I'll go and buy peanut butter.", Seokjin suggests, and you wonder how the hell did you fall on this perfect man, who was so patient with you, but also firm, taking care of you in the best way possible.

You hesitate for a second, not really liking the idea, but something about Jin's tone tells you he won't take no for an answer, and making him turn around after he's practically here is plain cruel, even for your pregnancy-induced mind.

"Fine.", you agree reluctantly, and you hear the other sigh in relief, a slight chuckle in his voice when he says: "Good, because I'm already in the elevator of the building".

***

When Jin steps into the apartment, you're still sprawled all over the sofa, your hands on your small baby bump and legs extended carelessly.

"Sweetie", Jin walks over to you with a soft smile, a short chuckle escaping his lips when you tilt your head up for him, silently asking for a kiss.

He looks exhausted after a day of practicing nonstop, his slightly long black hair falling over his eyes carelessly, wearing a plain gray t-shirt with long sleeves and ripped boyfriend jeans. His eyes are red from lack of sleep and his lips look swollen, and you know it's because of his habit to bite them whenever he's stressed.

Your heart clenches painfully at the sight of your husband, and you feel bad for being so selfish, even if you're carrying a living human inside of you. Jin was struggling to juggle his busy life as an idol and dealing with his pregnant wife, and you knew it.

You wrap your arms around Jin's neck when he leans down, pressing his lush lips against yours, and sigh into his mouth contentedly, momentarily forgetting about the need to vomit and your angry appetite, and just enjoying the affection you've been missing the whole day.

"How's my baby doing?", Jin mutters when he pulls back, keeping his forehead pressed to yours, and you exhale dramatically, tucking your face in the juncture between his shoulder and his neck. "Not good. I'm tired, and hungry and-"

"I meant the baby in your stomach", Jin says teasingly, letting out a high-pitched laugh when you pull away from him and send him a glare that could kill, your husband's humor existing even in times like this.

"Make me food, peasant. And it better be good.", you say flatly, raising an eyebrow at your lover, who simply shakes his head at you, muttering under his breath: "Nobody said pregnancy is like slavery".

You continue to stare at the TV blankly while your husband busies himself in the kitchen, humming to himself tunes and throwing around pots and pans loudly.

It must be around half an hour when Jin's head peeks out of the entrance to the kitchen, the apron tucked around his small waist covered with patches of flour and an assortment of colorful spices.

"It's ready!", he says with a toothy grin, wiggling his eyebrows at you. "Get ready to get your mind blown.", He adds confidently, and you get up from the couch, hearing your stomach rumble as you get closer to the source of the amazing smell filling your apartment.

Jin always makes you food, and has always cooked for you since the two of you started dating, so you were very familiar with his food, but whatever was on the white porcelain plate on your kitchen table, you haven't seen before.

"What is that?", you ask curiously, eyebrows furrowed with confusion as you inspect the omelet/pancake, unidentified red and green vegetables and pieces of seafood inside of it. There's also some sort of dark dipping sauce in a small bowl. 

"That",Jin says proudly, his eyes twinkling the way they did when he was talking about something he was passionate about. "is my mother's famous Haemul Pajeon recipe. Our family's been eating this for years during cold winter nights. It's the best kind of comfort food."

You hum with interest, Jin's enthusiastic reaction lighting up some excitement inside of you, and sit down by the table, licking your lips as your boyfriend cuts you a slice of the large pancake, handing it over to you with an expecting grin.

You can't help but moan when you bite into the perfectly spiced Korean dish, closing your eyes with satisfaction as your taste buds enjoy for the first time in a while something that wasn't peanut butter.

"So?", Jin says mischievously, "Should I go buy some peanut butter to go with this?", he asks sarcastically, and you roll your eyes, too focused on the delicious food in front of you to answer him.

Later, when the two of you are cuddled up on the sofa, the fuzzy blanket wrapped around your bodies and Jin's warm hand rubbing circles onto your slowly-growing belly, you tilt your head back to meet your husband's soft brown eyes, sending him a small smile. "Thank you, baby. For the food. And I'm sorry for being a brat all of the time."

Jin laughs, pressing a warm kiss to your forehead and pulling you even closer to him. "It's okay. I love you no matter what. And our baby girl, of course."

You lay there for a few more minutes of content silence, enjoying the warmth of each other after a long day for both of you. You can't help but laugh, shaking your head when a sudden thought comes to your head, and Jin lets out a questioning noise against your nape. "What is it?"

"Nothing", you snort, trying to silence your giggles in the palm of your hand, before turning to look at your husband, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "I just realized I found my new craving."

Min Yoongi:

Waking up to yourself in week 28 was sort of like waking up to your pet elephant. You were huge now, your stomach and boobs blocking everything in front of you.  

Yoongi was still asleep beside you, one hand thrown lazily across your thick waist, the other tucked behind his head. He looks peaceful, like he always does when he's asleep, his dark hair falling over his forehead messily, his small mouth closed and letting out these deep breaths, indicating he was sound asleep.

Sighing, you brush your husband's bangs away from his face, admiring his fair skin and soft facial features. How the hell was this perfect human being here with you, when you look like this? When you feel like this?

Not able to take the sudden wave of emotions, you get up from your shared bed slowly, biting your lip when your body screams at you to stay in bed and not move until you go into labor. Your boyfriend stays unmoving, as expected, and for once you're thankful for his deep slumbers. You don't want him to see you like this.

You walk out of the hallway slowly, padding out of your shared bedroom in your fuzzy white socks and one of Yoongi's old white T-shirts and shorts, which is sadly the only thing that fits you right now.

Making breakfast is the only thing you want to do right now, the best way to take your mind off of things, and you walk determinant to the kitchen, bracing your hand against the wall as you do.

Unfortunately, the long golden body mirror at the edge of the hallway catches your attention, and you can't help but stop in front of it, feeling your heart drop as you look at your reflection.

Pregnant women were supposed to have some sort of natural glow, right? They were supposed to feel like goddesses, like they were thriving. But you just felt like a wretched mess, and nothing more than that.

You were always an athletic person, and maybe also a little weight conscious. Suga gave you more self-confidence, helping you in his subtle actions and words, but right now, you felt like you were losing control over your own body, and you hated it. What if you stay like this forever?

You feel a wave of panic surge through you, tears brimming in your eyes as you stare at the girl in the mirror, with the blood-shot eyes from uncomfortable sleeping, the messy bun of dark hair and the pale skin from staying home these last few weeks.

"Babe?", you turn at the sound of your lover's voice, still hoarse from sleep, meeting his brown eyes with your own watery ones. At the sight of your trembling bottom lip and quiet sniffling, Yoongi's previously half-shut eyes widen, walking over to you quickly with a concerned expression.

"Hey, hey, what's going on?", he asks with an uncharacteristically soft voice, his warm hands coming up to cup your face, wiping the small teardrops from your cheeks. His eyebrows are furrowed cutely, his face so close to yours you can smell his breath, still minty from brushing his teeth not too long ago.

You sob, the embarrassment of being caught like this only intensifying your feelings, and avoiding your husband's eyes, who turns your face back to him, gently yet firmly, his eyes showing no intent to back down.

"I just… I feel so ugly, Yoongi. And I'm so scared. Scared I'll stay like this forever, scared you think I'm not good enough…", the last words come out in a whisper, your cheeks burning bright red as your boyfriend stares at you incredulously, mouth slightly open.

"Y/N, I know you're pregnant and have all sorts of weird moods right now, but this… this is straight up ridiculous. I love you, I'm your husband, and I'll never leave you.", Yoongi says firmly, grabbing your shoulders tightly as if trying to pass his sincerity to you, and you feel ashamed now for making the love of your life look like this, so worried and sad over something so meaningless.

"I'm sorry", you whisper, because you have nothing else to say, and Suga clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he brings one hand up to tilt your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes, now much softer than they were seconds before, holding love and affection that's meant only for you.

"Y/N, it's okay to feel ugly. You don't have to feel like you're a failure and a horrible person for not enjoying every second of your pregnancy. It's hard, and I love you so much for going through this. I love you so much for giving me our child.", he finishes, pressing a warm kiss to your hand, and you can't help but sob, the unexpected speech from your husband making you feel so much things, especially because you know how hard it is for him to say what's on his mind, even to you.

Yoongi doesn't say anything, simply wrapping his arms around your large figure carefully, pulling you closer until your face is buried in the crook of his neck, his hands stroking your hair slowly as you cry your heart out, letting out weeks of hidden fears and insecurities wash away with your tears.

Maybe you don't feel like the prettiest human right now, but it doesn't matter because you'll have the most beautiful child in the world, exactly like his father.

Jung Hoseok:

You're on the sofa in the living room, texting your mother, who you think is more concerned about your pregnancy than you are, when you feel something strange in your stomach, almost like gas bubbles, or a growling tummy.

You make a face and set your phone aside, squirming a bit on the blue-colored couch in an attempt to get comfortable. This feeling has been happening for a few weeks now, these little flutterings in your stomach, but now it's much more distinctive, and you place a hand on your curvy belly, trying to calm down the strange movements inside of it.

And that's when you feel it. The smallest of kicks against your palm, just above your belly button, like the wings of a butterfly, and you gasp, feeling tears well up in your eyes at the feeling that you now know is your baby moving in the womb.

How didn't you think about this possibility? You're already at your 25th week, just around the time when you can start feeling your baby's "quickenings".

"Oh my God. I have to tell Hoseok.", you whisper to yourself after a few seconds of complete shock, still a little bit delirious, before rolling into a seating position, your elbows supporting the weight of your unnaturally heavy body.

"Hoseok!", you shout, waiting impatiently as you hear cabinets closing hastily, and then the sound of hurried footsteps running down the hallway, before your husband's head pops out of the corner, eyes wide and worried.

"I was just making you a bowl of cereal, like you wanted. Are you okay?", your boyfriend asks gently, coming closer to you and crouching in front of the couch to be at eye level with you, his eyes scanning you for any reason of discomfort.

Hoseok's wearing an oversized dark grey sweater, light grey shorts and his favorite purple sandals, and there's cute black round glasses perched on his nose that make you feel all kinds of things, especially matched with his hot messy brown hair, but you don't let yourself dwell on his attractive appearance at the moment.

"Hobi", you whisper, not even knowing how to tell him about the fact that you've just felt your first child move for the first time. 

Hoseok's eyes furrow, looking even more worried than before, and he reaches his hand out to squeeze yours gently, his skin warm against yours. "I'm here. Talk to me, baby."

You don't talk, but you do reach out to take your conjoined hands, and place them on your stomach, right where you felt the baby move a few seconds before.  

It's quiet for a few seconds, your poor husband's expressions growing more confused by the second, but you know he feels it as well when his eyes suddenly widen, his jaw dropping and the hand against you jolting with surprise.

"Oh my God.", he breathes out, voice slightly shaky when he looks at you, his expression excited but also a little unsure, as if he didn't want to get his hopes up. "Was that-"

"Yeah", you bite your lip, bringing up your interlocked hands to kiss J-hope's palm. "That's our baby boy, Hobi.", you say with a tone of disbelief that matches your husband's expression perfectly.

You're not really surprised when J-hope jumps up, knowing your boyfriend's energetic personality, but you still laugh when he starts dancing in front of you, matching his cries of happiness to his impressive popping skills.

The baby seems to feel your excitement and happiness, too, because you're pretty sure he moves even more than before, kicking even harder against your stomach, almost as if he was dancing in the womb as well.

"It looks like this kid will be a musician just like his dad.", you mumble later, when you and your husband are curled up on the sofa together, your hands wrapped around Hoseok's torso tightly and your head placed on his chest, the steady beating of his heart setting you in a dreamlike state. 

Hoseok laughs under you, and you feel the ripples underneath you, sending waves of warmth in your chest. He leans downwards towards you, pressing little butterfly kisses all over your face; your eyelids, your nose, cheeks and mouth.

He stops only when you're giggling like a teenage girl and pushing him away with your hands weakly, leaving one last peck on your lips before pulling away with a satisfied smile on his face, pulling you even closer to him with his hands around your waist, caressing your baby bump carefully.

"Well, he might be a dancer like his dad, but that's not the most important thing", he says nonchalantly, and you raise your head to look at him, slightly surprised that Jung Hoseok, who loves music more than all the people you know combined, is saying that. "What's even more important, is that he'll be an angel like his mom."

Kim Namjoon:

When Namjoon walks through the doorway, you're already standing in front of it expectantly, two hands on your pudgy waist while your left leg is tapping on the floor steadily, a habit you have gained whenever you're nervous or stressed.

"Um… Hi, baby.", your husband says carefully, easily reading your body language and knowing something's wrong. "What's going on?"

He's dressed like he's been at work, which makes a lot of sense considering he was busy composing and producing the songs for the upcoming BTS album the whole day. His caramel hair is slicked back, pushed away from his face with hair gel, there are golden specs placed on the bottom of his nose, and he's wearing fashionable khakis tucked into a mint button up.

He looks tired, and what he really should be doing right now, instead of staring at you with a worried expression, is go take a long nap, but the growing panic in your chest is overwhelming, and you can't help but let it control you.

"We need to get the nursery ready", you announce, watching as Namjoon freezes on his way to you, his concerned expression changing into a more confused look, eyebrows furrowed over his brown eyes and his mouth pulled into a small frown.

"The nursery is ready, though?", Namjoon replies, but it sounds more like a question than a statement, uncertainty tainting his voice as he seems to run through all the things you bought for the room since you discovered you were pregnant almost 36 weeks ago.

"It's not!", you reply, and maybe it's the unexpectedly sharp tone of your voice, or the slight shake of your hands that seems to jolt your husband awake, understanding filling his gaze as he scans your face carefully, his expression not as lost as before.

The past week or so, you've had these weird jolts of inhuman energy, followed by the need to organize and clean everything in sight, otherwise known as, the internet so generously explained to you, nesting. Namjoon had come home too many times to find you cleaning some old cabinet you never opened, folding loads of laundry for no apparent reason, and rearranging furniture in the middle of the night.

Your husband was slightly confused by the phenomenon for sure, but didn't try to stop you from cleaning as much as you like, although he did warn you to be careful not to wear yourself out, and tried to help as much as he could to take some of the pressure off of you.

"Okay, baby.", your boyfriend starts carefully, stepping towards you slowly as if he was scared you'll run away. "Why don't you tell me what needs to be done so we can figure it out, hmm?", he asks gently, finally reaching you, and his strong arms come to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him until your large belly meets his hard torso.

You let yourself relax slightly, your own hands dropping to your sides uselessly, the tension in your shoulders slowly decreasing, and exhale loudly. "We need to paint the room, and fold the clothes in the closet, and maybe buy more toys-"

"Okay, okay.", Namjoon's palm comes up to cup your face sweetly, stopping your frantic rant, and he sends you a dimpled smile that you can't help but smile back to, because you were always a sucker for the deep holes in Namjoon's cheeks, pregnant or not. "We'll do everything, I promise. Everything will be perfect when our baby comes along."

You nod, letting Namjoon press a soothing kiss to your temple, before he pulls back, leading you to your shared bedroom with a hand around your waist, taking off his shirt when you enter the room as well, clueless.

"What are you doing?", you ask, not hiding your confusion when Namjoon throws on himself one of his old, worn out t-shirts he never wears anymore, before tossing a similar one to you. 

"Well, if we're going to paint the nursery today, we should probably wear something comfortable.", your lover says with a wide grin, and you can't help but grin back, changing into the huge shirt and taking off your pyjama shorts, before following Namjoon to the nursery, your heart feeling lighter than it was the whole day.

Park Jimin:

You whimper when you vomit again, lurching over the toilet as you empty your stomach, which you're legitimately surprised has anything left inside of it at this rate.

You can hear Jimin say something above you, but it sounds far away, like your head is underwater. You can feel his hand in your hair, pushing the sticky strands away from your face, the other one rubbing your back soothingly as he continues to mumble sweet assurances in your ear, even if you can't quite understand them.

Morning sickness was apparently just a name, because you were getting sick at the most random hours of the day, and it was definitely not limited to the early hours of it.

Just a few minutes ago, in fact, you were perfectly fine, helping Jimin cut some vegetables for a healthy salad before you suddenly felt a strong wave of nausea course through you, sprinting to the bathroom without another word to your husband, who followed you immediately, calling you name worriedly.

And now you were here, bent over the toilet for the last five minutes, letting out whatever food you ate today or maybe your whole life, with Jimin supporting you from behind, holding you through it.

Your knuckles are white from grasping the edge of the toilet in a death grip, when you finally let out a shaky breath that's been caught in your throat since you got here, letting your head fall between your shoulders as you try to catch your breath.

"Baby", Jimin's voice is soft and steady, but you can hear the worry and sadness tinging it. He hated seeing you like this, and you know he's blaming himself for not being able to do anything to make it better, even if none of this is his fault. "Do you think you can get up?"

You manage to nod, but don't make any move to straighten up, instead letting your husband's strong hands wrap around your shoulders, picking you up and spinning you around gently to face him, every movement calculated and careful, making sure not to trigger your vomiting all over again.

Your boyfriend's brown eyes are filled with pity when he sees your state, your eyes teary and red, face pale and body weak and motionless against him. "Oh, sweetie", he mumbles, brushing away the teardrops staining your cheeks, his skin warm against yours.

He looks so beautiful right now, with his blonde hair, which you insisted on combing today just because you find it so soft and fun to play with, and Jimin could never really resist you. He's wearing a simple black sweater, gray sweatpants, and fuzzy white socks, and his soft skin is shining under the harsh light of the bathroom, giving him an angel-like halo.

You would kiss him, but you feel like the taste of your mouth is probably deadly right now, and you don't even have the energy to cross the two inches left between your lips. 

Jimin seems to understand you perfectly, because he wraps a hand around your thin waist, pulling you close until your face is tucked comfortably into the crook of his neck, leaving a soft, fleeting kiss on your dark hair. "Do you want to take some medicine, babe?", he asks, murmuring the words against your head, and you nod against him, too tired to answer.

You shriek when you suddenly find yourself in the air, Jimin lifting you bridal style as it it's not big deal, still making sure not to jostle you too much, and wrap your hands around the blonde's neck to steady yourself, glaring at him when he giggles cutely. "Yah, you should've warned me!", You scold him, but your cheeks are already heating up from the romantic gesture, and Jimin seems to realize, sending you a cheek grin.

"Sorry, babe.", Jimin apologizes sweetly, pressing another warm kiss to your red cheek as he continues trekking down the hall with you in his arms, not stopping until he reaches the kitchen, where the vegetables are still waiting to be eaten. 

Placing you on the gray counter, Jimin shuffles through the different cabinets in the room, throwing out different ointments and medical supplies until he fishes out what he was looking for with a small victory cry, a container of pills your doctor recommended you to take whenever you suffer from morning sickness. 

"Here, take this", Jimin passes you the box, before walking over to the kettle and switching it on, the machine immediately starting to let out soft whistling noises. "I'll make you some camomile tea, okay?"

You mumble a gentle 'thank you', your whole body filling with warmth when Jimin passes you a glass of water to down the pill with, watching you when you swallow it with cautious eyes. 

You can't help but feel like you're the luckiest girl in the world, to be married to this amazing man, to carry your shared baby with this angelic human, and it feels like your heart is expanding when you watch Jimin blow on your tea, making sure it's not too hot, before handing it to you, standing between your legs and rubbing the inside of your thighs soothingly.

So you set the hot beverage aside, instead wrapping your arms around Jimin's neck, and pull your lover as close as possible, pressing your lips to his soft ones, smiling when you he lets out a surprised noise, but still wraps his own arms around your lower back, the action already natural to him by now.

You kiss for a while, these lazy, loving kisses that you enjoy even more than the hot, heated ones, and you can't help but whine when Jimin pulls away, biting your bottom lip gently as he does. 

He presses his forehead to yours, his eyes opening to meet your own, and there's this soft, dreamy smile on his face that makes you want to kiss him again, to tug him even closer to you. "That was nice baby, but you should drink your tea. Don't want you getting sick again."

You sigh, pouting with annoyance, but grab the mug of tea reluctantly, deciding not to make Jimin's life harder than it already is. "Fine, but only if I get cuddles."

Jimin laughs at that, pressing another peck to your pouty lips with a fond mumble of 'cutie', before pulling away and helping you off the counter, the grip on your waist steady and firm. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Kim Taehyung:

"I'm nervous", you whisper to Taehyung, squeezing his hand a bit tighter as you continue to walk down the hallway, getting closer and closer to the doctor's room at the end of it.

"Everything's going to be okay, don't worry.", your husband responds, sending you a soft smile, but you don't miss his slightly sweaty palms, and the nervous fluttering of his eyes. He was just as jittery as you.

Breathing through your nose, you stop in front of the tall door, gulping at the sight of the small sign mentioning the purpose of the room: "Doctor Choi Jisoo- Ultrasound and Pregnancy". It somehow made everything even more real.

Noticing your hesitation, Taehyung reaches in front of you, tapping the door with his knuckles before backing up, pulling you even closer to him before a soft feminine voice calls from inside. "Come in!"

You let out a shaky exhale, sending your lover another helpless look, and he smiles again, this time more genuinely, before pulling you to him to press a gentle kiss to your lips. "I'm right here", he whispers, forehead pressed against yours, his thumbs stroking your cheeks soothingly, before he pulls away and opens the door.

The office is neat and pretty, light streaming in through large glass windows, a large white desk in front of them covered with organized piles of files, writing tools in a tall cup, and a small plate of mints. 

The woman sitting behind the desk fits the feeling of the office perfectly, a woman around her thirties, with shiny brown hair tucked into a tight bun, delicate features, and a slender figure clad in a white doctor's robe and a tight black pencil skirt reaching under her knee.

"Hello", the doctor sends you a small, yet kind-hearted smile, motioning you to sit down with a wave of her manicured hand. "You must be Kim Y/N. I'm Doctor Choi Jisoo, and I'll be doing your first ultrasound."

"Nice to meet you.", you reply, sending your own soft smile before continuing: "This is my husband, Kim Taehyung", you point at Taehyung, who bows his head towards the doctor respectfully. "Nice to meet you.", he says in his charmingly deep voice, still not letting go of your hand, placing it on his lap even after you sit down.

"Okay, let's get straight into it", the doctor says with a more formal voice, pointing at the clean, white bed in the edge of the room. "If you could lie there, please."

You get up, Taehyung following close behind you, and lie down on the hard mattress, watching as the doctor puts on gloves and takes a tube of clear-looking gel. "You're in your 12th week, right?", the doctor asks, lifting up your purple knit-sweater to reveal your tanned stomach as she gets ready to apply the gel.

"Yeah", you wince slightly when the cold gel touches your skin, and your boyfriend's by you in a second, holding your hand and rubbing his thumb along your knuckles to get you to relax.

"I'm fine", you promise when you see the worry in Taehyung's dark eyes, squeezing his hand two times to reassure him, and he squeezes back, obviously holding back from saying something to the doctor.

You hold your breath when the doctor puts the transducer on your stomach, and you feel Taehyung still beside you as well, the feeling almost like the whole world was holding its breath, waiting for your baby to appear.

"There it is!", the doctor says, and you can't help but let out a gasp, bringing your hand to cover your mouth as tears well up in your eyes, because even if the picture is grainy, and the baby is so small, not bigger than a plum, you already know he or she is the prettiest child in the world.

You vaguely register Taehyung beside you, mumbling something like 'the most beautiful thing I've ever seen', but you're too caught up in your own feelings, you don't even register it, nor the assurances of the doctor, promising you the baby is in perfect health and shape.

There's a light tap on your shoulder, and then you're turning around to meet the doctor's smiling face, her eyes bright, twinkling with something that looks like pride, and she's patting your head gently, whispering: "I'll give you two some time alone".

The seconds after the doctor exits the room are filled with so much unspoken words, the only sound in the room being the steady breathing of the two of you. It's Taehyung who speaks first, his voice filled with emotion and love.

"Our baby is beautiful", he mumbles, looking down at you, and you want to run your hand down his cheeks and wipe the glistening tears that lay there, but you also want to keep this image of him in mind, so beautiful, with his slightly curly black hair, his nose red from crying, deep eyes shiny from unshed tears, and lips stretched into a boxy grin so wide it blinds you.

"Yeah", you say back, your own voice sounding so filled with love and indescribable joy, and you let Taehyung wipe the tears off your cheeks with his lips, kissing all over your face as your grasp him tightly, afraid that this is all some amazing dream that'll slip through your fingers.

Later, when the two of you are home, Taehyung admiring your not-so-noticeable baby bump with a gaze so loving it melts you inside, running his hand up and down your stomach and telling you stories of what he thinks you should name him (he was sure it was a boy), you can't help but let out a disbelieving laugh, your boyfriend raising his eyebrows at the sudden action.

"We did that", you breathe out, your mind running back to the first picture of your first baby, which was now tucked safely in the drawer by your body, another copy already sent to get framed. 

Taehyung laughs at that, leaning up to hover over you, his legs tangled with yours, and he runs his hands up your sides, smiling when you squirm from the ticklish sensation. "Yeah.", he replies, his eyes soft like melted caramel. "We did."

Jeon Jungkook:

"Y/N!", the sudden shout jerks you out of your thoughts, and you turn around to your boyfriend, who's looking at you with raised eyebrows, his eyes showing confusion and slight worry. "I've called like two times already. What's gotten you so focused?"

"Sorry", you sigh, rubbing the space between your eyebrows. Now that you think about it, it seems like you've been on your laptop for a long time, judging by the fact that Jungkook's already home and the sun is setting outside, coloring the world in hues of orange and pink.

Jungkook doesn't answer, simply sliding his black duffle bag off his shoulder and walking over to the chair you're sitting on, standing behind it, close enough that you can feel the warmth emitting from his skin. 

"What are you doing?", he asks, staring at the open tabs in your laptop, numerous websites that range from "the size of your baby on week 23 of pregnancy", "ways to keep your body healthy during pregnancy", and "complications during labor".

You shrug, feeling slightly embarrassed at your boyfriend finding you surfing the internet like some crazed hag, and Jungkook seems to notice the change in your behaviour, because he turns the chair you're sitting on effortlessly, so you're facing him.

"Is everything okay?", Jungkook asks carefully, squatting down to your level and staring at you in the eyes, his expression slightly nervous like it always was when it came to talking about feelings.

You nod, but Jungkook doesn't seem to buy it, tilting your head up gently with a slim finger on your chin, so you have no choice but to look him in the eye. "You know you can tell me anything", he whispers, intelligent doe eyes holding so much sincerity and care that your heart stutters in your chest, and you sigh, running a distressed hand through your messy dark hair.

"I know, Kook.", you answer, pecking your husband's lips gratefully, and he hums against your lips, greatly satisfied by the gesture, before you pull back, biting your lip nervously while Jungkook stares at you, patiently waiting for you to say what's on your mind.

"I'm just", you start, your cheeks growing red at the thought of saying your cursed thoughts out loud, but you know better than to keep secrets from your husband, especially when it comes to your own child, so you grit your teeth and continue. "I'm scared I won't be a good mother. Like, what if I'm not responsible enough? I'm still so young, and so are you. Maybe having a kid at this age is crazy. What if we'll ruin his life?"

The silence that follows your ramble is deafening, Jungkook's mouth open slightly in surprise, his dark eyes wide, and you open your mouth to say something, anything to take back what you said, but Jungkook's already talking before you manage to.

"I don't know", your lover says, and you snap your head up on surprise, expecting some words of wisdom, or at the very least a clueless assurance. Jungkook seems to catch your shock, because he sends you a small, loving smile, reaching his hand out to stroke your cheek gently with the back of his hand, something akin to awe in his eyes as he stares at you.

"All I know is, I love you.", Jungkook continues, his voice completely confident and firm, yet also soft and loving, and he reaches out to grasp your hands tightly, almost desperately, in his own warm hands. "I want to learn these things with you, Y/N. I want everything with you. The good and the bad, and everything in between."

You feel your eyes water at your husband's sincere words, his effect on you still the same even after years of marriage and dating, and you bring him forward to kiss him, even though it's more of a desperate clash of tongue and teeth than anything else.

You pull back after a few seconds to stare at Jungkook, stare at the man you love so dearly, the man you cherish in a place so deep in your heart that no one could ever replace. The human bunny you fell in love with all these years ago, with his soft black hair, his cute button nose you love to kiss, his plush pink lips that curve into that gorgeous smile of his, the shiny eyes that crinkle whenever he laughs at something silly you say.

"I Iove you too, Jungkookie.", you whisper in the soft atmosphere between you, pushing away the dark strands of hair from his forehead so you can drown even more in the eyes that hold all the secrets to the universe. "I'm sorry for all the stupid things I said."

"There's nothing stupid about being scared, love.", Jungkook mumbles, his own hands running down your long hair before pushing a loose strand behind your ear. "I'm scared too, but it's okay, because I have you. Don't be afraid to lean on me."

"I won't", you promise, letting Jungkook sweep you down into another lingering kiss, the taste of his lips so familiar to you, yet just as sweet as always. 

You can't help but giggle when Jungkook's lips leave your own, instead sliding down your throat, leaving little butterfly kisses on the way down, and stopping at your stomach, just where the baby is, and leaving another gentle kiss there. "I love you too, my little baby".

"Hey", you whine playfully, staring down at Jungkook with a fake glare, "I'm your baby", you complain, crossing your arms in front of your chest dramatically. 

Jungkook laughs, bunny grin back on display, and you feel your heart explode from the tremendous amount of love you feel, hugging the older man's broad chest to you when he says: "You're my big baby, and they're my little one. I love you both, my babies."

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

It’s The Avengers (03x04)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 04: She Who Seduces

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline   Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: wow! lots of stuff you guys want but at the same time aren’t gettin’ any

Word Count: It’s a weird feeling to be tagged as an essential worker, but not be made to feel like an essential worker? I mean I feel I’m not one. But if I am being forced out of my house, being exposed to the possibility of catching the virus, being ignored by corporate, media and the govt as humans, I have to wonder why am I even sitting here. I get the doctors and nurses and no amount of verbal praise can even come close to what they are doing right now. But if me and my colleagues have be ignored and made to work at large, I’d rather we do it from the safety of our homes, man. (Just when I had started to get better on my own)

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

The camera focused on a blue egg the colour of sky lying in the dirt, zooming in on it a little before jolting back as the egg moved. The camera did the entire cycle once again before a fluff hand tried to smack that egg like a cat curious about this unexplained cute atrocity in front of them.

“Lulu!” a voice called from somewhere in the distance in the midst of a mixture of all sorts of noises- like the ones experienced in your neighbourhood local market. But the camera did not budge till it recorded the sky egg crack bit by bit before a pair of blue eyes popped out on a little white head. Those gorgeous cute eyes looked at the camera, blinking out of coordination before looking at the little golden fuzzy arm slowly coming towards its head. Blinking again- this time with curiosity- the blue eyes froze on that snail-paced extension of a husk behind the camera before a tiny void opened under those innocent eyes to take that husk arm into it and bite down with an audible crunch.

Javier’s camera swiftly turned to Lulu’s cries, finding him far behind in the crowd of aliens trying to knock something away from his arm.

The little husk- screaming and howling like a little dog in pain- was rescued by pale fingers catching hold of the round head that was too stubborn to let go. A little squeeze and those surprisingly vicious teeth let go, breaking the remnants of the eggshells to let out white paws attached to the tiniest legs.

“Scram,” Loki ordered the white alien- who ran away as quickly as possible- before turning towards Lulu, “what were you trying to do with that beast? Have it for breakfast?”

Lulu chirped, nodding before slumping a little into the ground.

“Yeah, good luck with that while you’re in Y/N’s care,” he stated, getting and turning to look at the judgmental zoom Javier’s camera threw on him. “What. You want her to keep another alien as a pet?”

“Guys, I found a restaurant,” your voice called out of the frame, making Loki look in your direction, “OH MY GOD YOU GUYS! THERE ARE REAL LIFE SAILOR SOLDIERS IN HERE!!”

Loki looked at the camera, ageing a thousand years more. “Please tell me it’s not one of those mangas she keeps talking about.”

When Javier spelt it out for him from behind the camera, Loki’s eyes closed and he let out the heaviest sigh he possibly could

Loki: *with a very serious face* the prospect of me having died before being teleported here does not seem so bad. It looks fantastic now. *camera zooms in on his face while you scream in delight in the background, “I’m sitting with real-life Sailor Soldiers!! Aaaahhhh-”*

 The Lounge

"Where's Stark?"

One camera panned in on Bucky's face as he came out of the dorm with bed hair while the other looked at a mildly surprised Scott drinking orange juice from a crystal wine glass.

"He said he'll come in twenty. He's gone for his weekly therapy session," Scott replied, swirling the juice in his glass with his pinky out while observing Bucky from head to toe. "You should try that sometimes. It's really good."

Bucky sat down on the sofa with a stare filled with judgemental questions in Scott's direction. "Me? Therapy? That stuff's for looneys."

Scott furrowed his brows at Bucky, pause all moments for a second before bringing the glass ever so slowly to his lips. "Okay, Boomer."

"What?"

"What?"

Bucky: I don’t need therapy. *mocks a laugh* Shuri made me better than ever in Wakanda. All I need is exercise, healthy food in my stomach and a good amount of sleep. *nods in satisfaction*

*camera zooms out to reveal Scott sitting next to him, shaking his head lightly in mild disbelief*

Scott: *softly* Now I know where that attitude in this present world comes from.

Bucky: *turns to look at Scott* *shifts uncomfortably in his seat while shifting his gaze between the camera and Scott*

*silence erodes the room before Bucky finally breaks*

Why are you looking at me like that? I haven’t killed anyone recently.

Scott: *furrows brows in confusion* what?

Bucky: *stops mid-way and looks away from Scott towards the camera* Nothing

Scott: I never said about killing anyone. *pitch grows higher with every word* Bucky, I never said about killing anyone. Bucky, did you kill someone?

Bucky: *shakes his head with disinterest* mm-mm.

Scott: *mouth opens wide in disbelief* *hands go into his hair on his head* OH MY GOD YOU KILLED SOMEONE!!!

Bucky: NO! I DID N-

Fifteen Minutes Later

Bucky: *softly* So I’ve decided after...a lot of thinking that I should go talk to a...a therapist.

Scott: *nods and smiles at the camera like an encouraging wife*

Bucky: *gives a forceful smile*

Scott: And I too will be going to see a therapist.

Bucky: *nods* *presses lips*

Bucky and Scott: *look at the door, forcing the camera to turn and land on a somewhat irritated Natasha glaring at them from outside the door with arms crossed across her chest*

 Back In The Lounge

Wanda walked into the living room space where Bruce was working on some calculations on his laptop while another camera discreetly caught Bucky and Scott giving each other the stink eye.

"You should take a break, Bruce," Wanda stressed while placing a mug of hot tea on his table. Bruce half-looked at the mug before turning back to it, pulling it close and smelling it. "Since when do we drink so much tea?"

Wanda shrugged. "Since Loki and Y/N came into our lives?" She was unsure but that's what all things pointed at. Bruce went with it too.

He rubbed his eyes and shut his laptop. "Yeah, I guess we can take a break." He yawns and gets up. "Loki seems to have everything under control anyway, so…"

Wanda seemed to wince very quietly, her expressions showing no surety in Bruce’s words; or a reflection of an upset stomach.

“I mean, Y/N is being a levelheaded person too. It’s not all Loki.”

A scoff came from the other side of the room where Bucky stood, all eyes and camera turning to stare at him, his crumbling confident posture trying to display reason. “I mean...she hasn’t been to space before. She does not know what’s out there as well as Loki.”

“So, what you are trying to say is she won’t be able to survive if it wasn’t for Loki?” Scott stretched his words to make sure Bucky heard every single one of them.

“Of course she wouldn’t survive out there. She is a kid.” A very sweaty Clint walked into the lounge and went straight for the orange juice inside the fridge. The camera caught the muted gasps coming out of Wanda and Scott for the men in the room not having much faith in your survival skills.

“So are you,” a very sweaty Natasha acknowledged Clint’s words as she grabbed the juice bottle from Clint’s hand, “but you survived the Infinity War without your family. Oh, wait. You didn’t really survive. You just turned into a whiny little bitch and started killing the first thing you saw.”

Wanda looked at the camera with her eyes wide and her lips pressed tightly to stop her from screaming at the burn. Bruce, on the other hand, whispered ‘oh shit’ and tried to disappear in his mug. Scott sipped his juice like the best tea he had been served in a long time, all the while smirking like a content goofball.

“That was so below the belt, Nat,” Clint protested, his hands resting on his hips as he watched her gulp down half the bottle of juice before handing Clint the rest and smacking her lips in satisfaction. “Y/N is in outer space with a frost giant. And so is Javier. But I don’t hear any of you mention him in this conversation when it comes to surviving on one's own?”

“Javier is a-”

Bruce paused before finishing his sentence as he realised the error of his words right before they came out. “Nice guy?” He finally breathed out, his lungs not being able to take the torture. “He is also in danger, of course. That is a given. I was in danger too when I was stuck in space. Thor can vouch for me.”

Thor: *standing on a cliff while the Asgardians celebrate in the background around a fire* *yells over the sound of waves crashing in on the rocks below* BRUCE WAS SO MUCH FUN ON SAKAAR! WE HAD DRINKS AND DANCES AND SO MANY GIRLS OGLING AT HIM! OF COURSE, THAT WAS WHEN HE WAS THE HULK. WHEN HE WAS BACK TO BEING A BORING OLD SCIENTIST ALL HE SPOKE WAS OF HIS PHDS AND HIS HOW MUCH THIS ONE GUY HERE WAS ALL OVER HIM! I THINK HE LIKED IT. HIM! HE LIKED HIM. IF THIS IDIOT WASN’T STUCK ON BORING OLD NAT THEN I WAS BETTING ON THEM DOIN’ IT. YEAH!!! *pauses and smiles his widest smile* *blinks into an invisible void in the distance* PLEASE DON’T TELL NATASHA  I CALLED HER BORING. OR-OR OLD.

Bruce gulped where he sat. “Maybe he can’t vouch for me. He was too trippy throughout his trip to space anyways. Maybe the lack of oxygen did it to him.”

The silence grew uncomfortable by the second as he exchanged a look with a camera while Clint just shook his head and let out a defeated “dude”.

 Space Place

“Hey, where’s Loki?” you asked Javier while Lulu climbed up the bar stool in the small inn right by the farmer’s market that you had just passed. “Right behind you?” you looked past Javier before walking towards the way he had come- “but he’s not he-”

Your words were cut short by something you saw from the window, forcing the camera to shift on seeing the concern cloud your face towards the scene outside the window. Outside, four buffed up aliens stood surrounding Loki while he raised his hands a little like a white flag.

Instinct took over and you stepped out of the inn but stopped on the porch as Loki yelled, “No! Do not come any closer!” without making eye contact.

One of the buff guys did step closer, his face breathing down right into Loki’s. And Loki? He chuckled at the alien. “One more inch and I think we’ll be kissing, Kronk.”

Kronk the big boulder looking guy hissed at him. “You stepped on the wrong planet, Silvertongue. Hudon wants your head or your body. And he will make sure you pay up your dues.”

Loki tried to increase the distance between him and Kronk, moving back a little; enough to stop smelling his breath on him. “Wow. Looks like someone had a lot of raw Siluji fish today. Hehe. And I thought Hudon was on Myscul. Anyways. How about I talk to Hudon and offer him something that he cannot refuse. And both of us can get back to our respective business.” No matter how much he smiled, Loki did not seem to be getting through that guy.

“Hudon does not want to talk to you. He knows how you work, trickster. He will cut his ears off before he listens to you.”

Loki wanted to contradict the guy but shut his lips to be on the better side of this guy. “Okay. Fine. I will meet him in two hours then? I’ll even bring some good sushi for you.” Loki started to walk away from them when one of Kronk’s men caught hold of him and slapped black handcuffs onto his wrists. 

“You are coming with us, traitor.”

The camera recorded Loki being dragged away in broad daylight while no one even batted an eye at the incident. You walked to the end of the porch- the end close enough to watch Loki being taken away as his brows reflected concern in your direction before disappearing behind the nearest stall of berries.

“Javi,” you uttered softly, your eyes still looking for Loki, “I think Loki’s in trouble. Oh, God. I think we are in trouble.”

 The Foreigner’s Inn

The camera settled on the window sill and a pair of hands moved away to reveal Javier sitting back in the seat of the corner table far away from the bustle of the inn. You sat opposite him, nervously biting your nails and moving your leg under the table while Lulu sat right in the middle, facing the camera, drinking some green concoction you bought him with a few talons from the ones Loki handed you once you had landed on this planet. Javier’s blue eyes scrutinised the place before coming back to you. He tapped your hand for attention before signing something.

“Yeah,” you acknowledged with a nod, “a plan. We need to come up with a plan to save Loki. But we don’t know where they took him. Oh, shi-should we have followed them? Ah fuck! Now, we won’t know where they went. Maybe we should ask someone. But we don’t know what kind of guy Hudon is. What if he’s got eyes everywhere? Then if we ask someone about him, we’ll be the ones walking right into the lion’s den. And we’ll be the ones who will need saving. Okay okay okay okay okay okay. Right right right right right right.”

Javier knocked the table to get your spiralling conscience back to him, directing you to stop, breathe in and breathe out. And you did, pausing for a moment before things got worse in your head. “Right. We need to think this with a clear head. Um...what would Mr Stark tell us to do.”

With your back straight you looked right at Javier. “He would say stop, take a breather. Make sure that you are safe first. It’s fine to worry about Loki but he is a great strategist. He will definitely find a way out of trouble. But that does not mean we do not go look for him. No one gets left behind. Not even that ugly gourd. Help is always around. All you need to do is ask. And never forget that I love you no matter what. Now go save that son of a bitch.”

Javier stared blankly for a second before breaking into silent applause. “So, we need to find something or someone that can give information about that guy holding Loki. Where can we get someone who would know that and help us, complete strangers?”

Lulu, who, all this time had been swinging his bushy bottom from the chair, suddenly stopped, put the drink from his hand on the table and pressed his belly with a click.

[Hippie Sabotage’s Righteous starts playing]

Lulu got down from his chair and moved towards the door of the inn. You called after him but he did not stop and so you and Javier followed with the camera.

Lulu’s camera took in the boots stepping into the inn first. Then the ripped pants, going up to the open shirt revealing perfect abs. Then came those familiar faces carrying their smouldering looks with them still.

Javi’s camera recorded your expression of surprise followed by a hint of something schemy going on in those eyes. A smile was all that you gave them though. “Never thought I would see you guys again.”

The camera swerved to the rainbow k-pop donning shades that were being taken off as slowly as possible. White turned to look at you, the smoulder still holding strong on his face. “And leave you to fend for yourself, princess. Not on my watch.”

You: Yeah *mildly disgusted* I forgot how clingy he is.

“I need your help.”

Sky jumped where he stood and clapped his hand before slipping behind Mauve and blushing.

“Loki’s in trouble. I need to help him es-”

“Say no more,” White whispered while bringing his pale finger on your lips, which you smacked away. “But before we go on the adventure together, my beautiful princess, I urge you to imagine going on another adventure. Just you. And me. And planets with no one but us.”

“And me,” came a faint whisper from behind Mauve.

“Oh, my G-is there anyone of you who is a normal one?”

“I don’t know about normal,” Green came forward and tucked at the edges of his shirt, “but I can take him away from you and help you save your…”

You waited for him to finish his sentence.

“Boyfriend?” he sounded as unsure as the uneasy lines on his face. Before you could say anything to contradict him, White gasped and Sky whimpered. “Boyfriend! He is your boyfriend?! Oh my stars,” White cried, “what are the odds that fate made us meet when you were already someone else’s.”

You stood there, blinking, questioning whether it would be a good decision to tell him the truth. “So, because I have a boyfriend, you will stop pursuing me?”

Sky sniffled, White sighed in defeat and Orange clicked his tongue at the lost opportunity. “I am a creature of code. I would never even think pretty thoughts about someone else’s queen,” he assured with a weak vibration in his voice.

“Cool,” you exclaimed, “Loki is my boyfriend! And I am Y/N, hi. And you are…”

“Call us whatever you like,” Green replied with a smile. “We don’t have names. Just voice notes as a way of identification. Now, let’s get to work.”

“Oh my God,” Mauve groaned audibly and rolled his eyes under those shades, “finally. She definitely needs that work.”

You and the cameras looked at you, wondering what was so wrong to have blunt judgement thrown at you out of nowhere. “Why would I need work?”

Green gestured to you to move up the stairs of the inn with them. “You mentioned Loki being captured by the alien named Hudon.”

“Never mentioned that.”

“He is a classic brute,” Green continued, like he never heard you, as you walked next to him while Lulu got himself lifted into your arms, “who owns all the brothels of this base. He trades in creatures who can exploit their own bodies for what he pays them. The fact that Loki was taken away by his men points at the possibility of trade between them gone wrong.”

You gasped at the sudden revelation that was dawning upon you. “Wait. So, that could mean he wants payback from Loki. Does he want payback in...in cash or...in kind?”

Green’s eyes reflected sympathy for your situation. “Let’s hope, for you and Loki, that it is cash.”

“But wouldn’t that mean he has to sell his body?!”

Green nodded. Lulu’s camera caught White murmuring to Violet, “do you think that furry thing is their child?”

“We have something that might help you. And for that-” he stopped in front of a door of one room at the far end of the corridor, twisting the knob and clicking it open for you to enter- “we would need your help.”

“Okay,” you nodded before confusion took over your face and Lulu purred while rubbing against your shoulder, “what kind of help.”

Mauve sighed loudly, pushing you away- gently- to enter the room first. “We would need your help to do something about the drab that you humans call fashion on your planet,” he nearly puked while looking at your clothes.

“Hey! This shirt is really comfortable. So are these leggings and boots!”

Mauve screwed his face at you. “Oh, they better be! Because that hue-combination is a disaster,” he stressed.

You felt your head go back a little. "Just because I don't have much interest in fashion, I'm gonna let that pass. But I am pretty sure the Queer Eye won't stand for that insult."

"The Queer Eye would've made you into a walking weapon had they been in your vicinity darling," Mauve mentioned matter-of-factly and walked towards the lone dresser and dragged out the chair before tapping it. "Now sit your ass down and let me show you how it's done while Mr Green fills you in about everything."

You looked at Green. He nodded jovially. White on the other hand went and plopped on the bed. Violet went and splayed himself on the sofa, Red went for the window sill to go and brood there. Sky took the foot of the bed and made himself comfortable to look at you for the next two hours. Orange took off his shirt and trousers and went into the bathroom.

"Hey, Lulu," White called out from the bed, "put on a sexy getting-ready song."

Lulu got up on the dresser and pressed his stomach to play Rachel Bloom’s Sexy Getting Ready Song.

“Wait. Hold on,” you called out, making Mauve and Green stop in their tracks and Lulu pausing the song, “I...I gotta poop. Please get that orange pervert out of there?”

 Hudon’s Whorehouse

A hush, beginning from the entrance, fell as the eyes followed the figure. A sweet yet strong melody seemed to follow that black-clad creature, stirring both fear and excitement in the witnesses; who completely missed the two companions walking on its either side.

Never feel too good in crowds With folks around when they're playing

The clack of those pointed heels seemed to be a pound at the doors of the devil himself and every minion that walked in the path she walked, only stopping in the room fit for a queen; nothing less. A seat was taken on the gold-framed sofa, legs spread in comfort and defiance of the one in charge, arms rested on the armrest while popping a grape in the mouth with lips painted red as the blood that flowed in her veins.

A creature with the body of a human- except for the extra pair of hands- and the head of a furry with antlers entered the hall, sitting opposite you. “Welcome to the house of Hudon!” he greeted, the gold on his antlers jingling like bells on Rudolph, “the finest whorehouse you would find in this system.”

“I will evaluate the ‘fine’ myself, Hudon,” you stated quite indifferently, your attention taken by a golden strawberry resting in your fingers, “how old is this rotten blasphemy.”

The anthems of rape, culture loud Crude and proud creatures baying

It was easy to get that accent on your tongue. The tone was smooth enough to show not much effort was being put to talk while the words were spoken like a dagger stabbing the listener with every breath.”

Hudon directed his men to take those old fruits away and to replace them with new ones. But you had already lost interest in them. Sitting straight up, you let your arms go back on the headrest, your suit jacket revealing the skin underneath, the acne on your chest from the sweat and dust revealing itself in full glory. Hudon nearly feels himself blackout with the sheer audacity of a human woman walk into his house and sit there as a client while making him- the one who runs the sex business- make him feel things that were quite transparent in his gaze.

All I've ever done is hide From our times when you're near me

“Here I am, out on a vacation from my boring home, looking for some fun and adventure when someone suggests to me your name and business,” you mutter loud enough for him to hear. “Hudon the hoarder. The one who has everything you can ask for. Anything out of your fantasy. You name it, he has it for you.”

“I do,” he agreed with a smile, interrupted just as he is about to start listing his merchandise.

“Oh, but I don’t think you do, Hudon.” You leaned forward, your legs still spread apart in those black trousers, your frame bent enough to reveal more and still reveal nothing at all, making Hudon’s eyes linger there far longer than he expected them to. “I don’t think you do. What could you possibly have that could seem human enough for my taste and yet not human at all, Hudon? What could you possibly have that could meet my demands, unlike the men on my planet? One who is not meant to be ruled and yet-” your voice turned to a whisper, and Hudon’s eyes were stuck on the hypnotising moment of your lips under that netted veil covering your smokey eyes- “he bends under my commands like a good dog because he knows he will get a treat if he behaves.”

Hudon gulped and blinked.

Honey, when you kill the lights and kiss my eyes I feel like a person for a moment of my life

“I am not here to have some cheap fun, Hudon. Nor some sloppy seconds. I want a challenge that I can smother between my thighs, making him question how he ended up there, under me. And then make him question how he can get under me, again.”

A silence proceeded your laced words. A long lingering silence which would have stretched even more had one of Hudon’s men not brought that shook fur-face back to the present.

“I I I I I think I have the perfect specimen for you, miss…”

“Lady. Lady...Morticia Addams,” you declared, blinking at Javier’s camera.

You: *cringing* I did not think this part through. But I did come up with a nice personality? *does a weak thumbs up*

“I will send for him immediately, Lady Morticia,” Hudon declared, getting and taking a bow, “and if he is not able to satisfy you, I will humbly present myself to you as a sacrifice.”

You: *deadpan* Pervert.

“If your specimen does not satisfy me, then mark my words, Hudon, you won’t find any piece of him in your excuse of a brothel.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a weak voice, walking out and scolding his guards to get him ‘Silvertongue’.

You noticed the two guards still in the hall by the door, looking at you and your companions. Javier moved from his place by the fireplace to the door, to let the tiny camera- courtesy of the rainbow k-pop- strapped to his chest take in the patient steps of the man of the hour; at the same time, directing with his hands to Lulu to resume his score.

But you don't know what hell you put me through To have someone kiss the skin that crawls from you

Loki, bare-chested and in chains, was walked towards your hall with four guards- two on front and two on back. This was the first time any of the cameras had seen so much of his bare skin. Neither had they seen so many muscles on that body that seemed so lean on the outside with the clothes on. The raven hairs snaked around his shoulders while his eyes were set at the goal in front of him: you. And if you did not know any better you would have thought those peach curtains were flying right and left to get a one-touch, one whiff of that God.

To feel your weight in arms I'd never use It's the god that heroin prays to

You almost choked on the juice you were offered on seeing Loki like that- in just his pants. Like a healthy supermodel straight out of a pin-up hidden in your childhood drawer. Quickly recovering and changing into the persona created for this place you leaned back on the sofa to admire the view when all five men came to a halt in front of you.

It feels good, girl, it feels good It feels good, girl, it feels good

“Hm,” you muttered, your eyes going up and down an apparently tight-jawed Loki, “decent. Where did you catch this fish?”

“Caught him fresh in the market today,” Hudon’s henchman answered, surprisingly in an Australian accent, “owed our master for quite some time. Will finally pay his debts now.”

It feels good, girl, it feels good Oh, to be alone with you

The laugh that came out of the prude was murky. You got up and nonchalantly waved your hand to make the guards stand away from the merch, letting you get a good three-sixty view. Loki could feel your eyes on him even when you stood behind him, carefully studying these marks on an otherwise flawless skin that ran all over his back and some did on arms, right down his wrist.

A wave of emotion washed over you on seeing them, which you hastily veiled for the sharp eyes lurking in the background. Clearing your throat, you took out your silver hair stick from the bun at the back and walked to face the frost giant.

There are questions I can't ask Now, at last, the worst is over

“Sit,”  you commanded.

Loki’s eyes grew dark. The camera recorded the silent change of roles for a quick moment before Loki finally obeyed, getting down on his knees.

See the way you hold yourself Reel against your body's borders

You took a step to his side before looking at the guards still standing there. “What. You want in on the show as well?” Your raised-up brow was judging them hard at this moment.

The guards stood there looking at each other before one of them finally spilt. “We are not allowed to leave him alone with you till you sign the contract and make the payment.”

“Hm. Well, if that is the case-” you took another step to stand right behind Loki- “I will inspect this...merchandise before I make the payment.”

I know that you hate this place Not a trace of me would argue

The hair stick in your hand made its first contact with the bare skin on Loki’s back, promptly making his muscles move underneath that pale skin. A smile found its way to your lips. “Sensitive to touch, I see. I prefer virgin skin.” You dragged stick all the way from one end of those shoulder scales in the back to the other, taking light steps to move towards the front.

The camera zoomed in on the shadow of something brewing inside Loki’s eyes while his lips stretched ever so slightly with a thought only he knew. The stick came to the collar bone, travelling up his neck to land right below his chin, lifting it up to watch your tongue in between your teeth, peeking out for a look.

Honey, we should run away, oh, someday Our baby and her momma And the damaged love she made

“Say, boy,” you asked softly, letting the stick dig into that chin to raise it up further, “what does that mouth do.”

A chuckle rose in Loki’s chest and burst out to close his eyes before they could look at you in a new light. “They do things you wouldn’t want to know.”

But I don't know what else that I would do Than try to kiss the skin that crawls from you

Questioning- or pretending to question- his audacity you responded with a sly ‘uh-huh’ before getting down on one knee, letting both your arms rest on the other. “Well, it better-” your voice grew duskier by the minute while that thin stick landed on his lips, circling them- “do things unspeakable. Otherwise-” you gently pushed the stick in his mouth, and he took it in, wrapping his tongue around it- “what is the point of that pretty pretty mouth.”

Then feel your weight in arms I'd never use It's the god that heroin prays to

Javier could not help but record the drooling and uncomfortable faces of the guards standing by the door, half of them looking at each other, other half stuck on the hypnotic movements happening between the two of you; all of them standing with their hands hiding their bulges in those leather pants.

It feels good, girl, it feels good

“That tongue better work like it is the only thing that can save your life, pretty boy.” The low pitch of your voice was drowning the whole room. Your other knee too went down, allowing them to touch his as you sat down, your back arched and your chest moving closer to his. “It better work fast because I don’t like being made to wait. But it better not rush and ruin it for me either.”

It feels good, girl, it feels good

The stick was still in his mouth with Loki’s lips sucking it good when he looked up at you and gave you a judgmental glare. With a gentle tug to the stick from his mouth, you took it away, down the trail it came from, down the chest, the perfect line between his abs and then somewhere further down where the guards could not see; but that did not mean they could not imagine.

It feels good, girl, it feels good

“Now, let’s see how good your hands work,” you ordered more than questioned, turning to Javier and nodding.

Javier nodded back and Lulu’s camera recorded him walking to the door to close and bolt it. The guards could not suppress their smiles, delighted at the thoughts of what was about to go down.

“You,” you pointed at Hudon’s henchman, gesturing to him to come close, “I want you to help me with these.”

It feels good, girl, it feels good

More than eager to ‘help’ you, he skipped to where you now stood and Loki was still on his knees. “Yes. W-what can I help you with, my lady?”

Oh, to be alone with you

Your hands went down your shirt, into your bra and out came four silver balls the size of peas. “Are you done?”

It feels good, girl, it feels good

The henchman did not understand the question. Then came a click from below and Loki’s voice yelled, “NOW!”

It feels good, girl, it feels good

Oh, to be alone with you

A lot of things happened at the same time. Loki stabbed the man right in his calves while you threw those peas on the air; at the same time you and Javier ducked down to let those peas be attracted to the nearest form of flesh in their linear way, sticking to them to shock the living lights till they could see more galaxies in their vision. 

The henchman yelled in pain, down on his knee, which Loki took advantage of and stabbed him in his shoulder before wrapping his arm around his windpipe long enough to make him lose consciousness. 

You grabbed the other pin from your hair and with its pointy end pointed at the men still struggling with the aftermath of the shock, you stood in defence. “Everyone okay?”

The guards groaned. “I meant everyone I care about okay?”

Javier nodded and Lulu chirped, jumping onto your shoulder. You turned to Loki. “You okay?”

Loki nodded, grabbing the henchman’s gun and tucking it in his pants. “Oh, here.” Loki looked at you unbuttoning your suit jacket. “Woah, what are you-” and stopped when he saw a vest peeking from underneath as the shirt was thrown in his direction. “I am almost jealous of the endless choices of these for women here. Does it fit you?”

“It’s quite loose,” Loki absentmindedly responded while buttoning up, not comprehending that disappointed stare till it was too late. “I meant...it’s...how did you even get all of this stuff?”

“Ah, changing the topic, typical,” you muttered while dragging the guards behind the sofa, “I have friends besides you.”

The suspicion in Loki��s eyes suddenly changed to shock. “What are you doing with them?! I told you to stay away from those...those...Hardy-pop spawns; whatever you called them.”

“A, you never said that. B, I had to do something to help you out. C, get us out of here!”

Loki looked at you, about to speak something when he stopped, the camera panning in to watch the surprise colour his face. “You didn’t plan an escape.”

“Oh, no. I was thinking I should get into the prostitution business myself considering what a fine human specimen I am.”

Loki rolled his eyes and smacked the recuperating guard back into the ground before gesturing Javier to follow him out the door.

“I was also thinking how great it would be to settle down here because all I ever wanted was to live in an alien whorehouse. I mean, Silvertongue what? God of Mischief, who?”

“Fine! We get it,” Loki called out, leading you all straight down the corridor, “though you would have fit perfectly here.”

“Excuse me!”

“Oh I saw that look in your eyes!” Loki spat, “you played the character like it’s in your blood.” Loki pondered walking straight, “Well, Stark’s involved. So wanting to control naturally comes in your blood. But playing a full-blown Dominatrix?” Loki chuckled. “You feisty little witch.”

You pouted at his comment. “A Dominatrix! Coming from the one who used his tongue like a fucking lock pick machine to shape that metal thing into the exact pattern that could open your cuffs,” you uttered under your breath while trying to keep up with him till you ran smack into his back.

The door to the exit was closed as guards surrounded the reception from all four sides, cornering the four of you in the middle.

Lulu wrapped his fluffy arms around your neck, holding tight while his camera took in Hudon’s figure entering right where you had walked through. “I cannot believe I was played by a human,” he hissed.

“Wasn’t that hard, really. It’s like I opened my legs and boom! You were open for business,” you shrugged while Loki smacked your arm to shut you up.

“Guards!” Hudon shouted, “cuff them and throw them in the dungeons!”

Before the guards could take a step towards you all, you found yourself screaming, “wait!”

“I almost forgot,” you added, patting your vest and then your pants to find a little black box, “I was told to give this to you with the message ‘your ex says hi’.”

Hudon looked at the box placed in his hand. Javier’s camera captured you putting your fingers over Loki’s hand and dragging your index down towards the ground. Loki gave you a silent look before tangling his fingers in yours, moving Javier right behind him.

“Lulu,” you whispered discreetly, “you know what comes next right?”

Lulu purred a little before shifting to your back, his arms still secure around your neck. All eyes watched as a tweet rose from the box, increasing in pitch. And just like that it dropped in silence, the code for you four to duck down.

Loki was already shielding you with his body, his arm wrapped around you when the flash came and with it a crash. Hudon was enclosed in what looked like lit up ropes sparkling with electricity while the Hardy boys entered from the roof on ropes as smoothly as always.

“Your ex also said ‘time to die motherfucker’,” Mauve declared before electrocuting the furry.

“Seven years, Mauve,” Violet stressed with a shaking head, “it’s been seven years. Let it go.”

 Night Time at the Inn

Javier’s camera rested on the platform outside in the balcony that sat atop the inn to the view of the city. Javier himself was busy with the little yet powerful cameras in the shape of silver flies Violet was showing from his own collection. Lulu ran about chasing fireflies that glowed in multiple colours around him. A few even came and sat down on his fur, making him pause anything and everything he was doing so as not to scare them.

You walked in from the other room, showered and shampooed, in your old clothes cleaned and dried, throwing a quick glance at the surroundings before going straight for the figure sitting outside on the cemented boundary of the balcony looking down at the soft bustle and glow of this little city.

The platform was wide enough for two people but you still stood leaning on the door and knocked on the glass first. “Mind if I join you?”

Loki scooched over to the other side to make room for you. You got up and slid your butt and legs up, a lungful of the foreign air bringing with it the smell of all that was cooking in the streets. “Hmm, smells heavenly,” you hummed, letting your headrest on the brick wall behind.

When your senses had absorbed all there was to the night, you finally found the courage to speak.

[Lulu, still as a cat, clicks his belly to play Sweater Weather (feat. Fruitypoppin x Koven Wei]

“How are you doing?”

Loki’s head turned to look at you, his fingers still moving around the bracelets that did not let him use his full potential.

You shifted where you sat, scratching some itch in your head. “I mean, you okay? Like being forced into sex trafficking can leave a deeply rooted trauma if not addressed in time.”

Loki smiled and looked down at the bracelet. “I appreciate your concern. But I am fine. I have had worse”

Your lips parted in a gasp that was controlled in time. “...okay. Okay.”

His green eyes reflected the lights in a mellow hue under the brilliant duvet of stars above you. His stare had a pinch of something soft as he continued to look at you. “I also appreciate-” he shifted his glance to his arms right when you turned to look at him, adjusting the hem of the sleeve of his black t-shirt- “you not asking me about the scars.”

There was a shift of emotion visible in your eyes. A smile forced upon your lips that those y/e/c pupils betrayed. The unconscious movement of your fingers over your own arm, the repeated motion of them over the same place as if trying to soothe some underlying ache; none of it went unnoticed by those sharp smaragdines. Neither did the cage you tried to make around your waist, wrapping your arms around it, trying to block some invisible evil. “No problem-” you blinked and one of those flies recording you two zoomed in enough to see moisture gathering on the edges of your eyelids- “just know that whenever you are ready to talk, I will be there for you.”

Your smile widened, using your usual trick of letting your eyes close to hide that moisture, even adding in a chuckle here and there.

Loki had to take in a whole lot of air to bring the words out of him. “And I will be there when you need to talk about it too.”

The smile was gone. Knees were drawn closer to your chest. “Yeah, that might take ages,” you muttered as you rested your head on your knees.

“Good thing that I’m immortal then?” And the chuckle came back, bringing the stress in Loki’s shoulders down a little.

“What did you do to Hudon anyway? Why was he so pissed at you to force you to be one of his prostitutes?”

Loki groaned and let his head fall back. “I let all of his unwilling workers escape.”

You raised your brows in praise.

“While tricking him into thinking I was in love with him.”

And your jaw drops. “WHAT?!” you nearly screeched while Loki tried to shush you. “You...what?! Why??”

“Well, he comes from an orthodox planet that did not stand for the choices in the life partners he wanted. Which is why he ran away and opened brothels with no restrictions. I took...advantage of that knowledge to use him and run. From...my torturers.”

Loki’s eyes went to his arms. So did yours. “And in doing so I broke the heart of a man who was into bad trades. So I am the lesser evil here, for your information,” he recovered. 

“Yeah, freeing sex slaves and breaking a stone-cold bitch’s heart isn’t as much as evil as it is a ‘making the world a better place’, dude.” You acknowledged. “And I hope your torturers are dead otherwise they’re gonna catch these hands.”

A chortle left Loki, scaring the Lulu and making all the flies fly away from what had looked like a fluffy Christmas tree. “What, I’m serious.” A punch landed in his gut to show just how serious you were.

“Right. How do you think you will defeat them? Using black latex clothing, handcuffs, a whip and anal beads?”

You looked at the flying cam with a twist in your jaw while Loki laughed in the background.

You: I am too pissed right now to even question how he knows about anal beads.

“Haa haa. You laugh at the idea while I will actually be making them beg for mercy in leather bonds and chains,” you announced, angry at the God for losing it at the thought of you in that role again. “And I’ll definitely be doing a better job of a Dominatrix than you ever did.”

“You take that back.”

Lulu went around chasing the fireflies again while the two of you teased each other under the starry night far away from home, for the very first time not worrying about your way back, the music adding to the soothing colours brewing in the night.

 In the Darkness of The Lounge

All the ladies were lined up on the sofa, binging on drinks and popcorn in the dark, eyes stuck on the big screen when a sniffle was heard from behind them. All of them turned to watch a very worried Steve and Clint looking at Bucky and Scott sit next to them. Their faces glistened in whatever light came from the screen, the streaks of tears and swollen eyes visible even in the dark. Not to mention the blocked noses.

“Are you guys okay?” Wanda asked softly, never giving up what she saw in their minds.

Both of them nodded.

“Are you crying for Loki right now?” Clint asked with a hint of disgust in his voice, earning a smack from Natasha.

“No,” Bucky grunted from the midst of his tear wave while Scott shook his head in agreement. “I’m crying because this stupid bowl in my hand does not have any more popcorn.”

“Yeah,” Scott bawled, “I am mad at this stupid bowl too. Come, let’s get some more popcorn.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed in his hoarse voice, still crying as they got up and went away, past the kitchen and into the elevator while the rest watched them silently till the doors closed. 

“They forgot their popcorn bowl,” MJ pointed out. Clint looked at her in confusion. “Who are you?”

“None of your concern,” she replied, making Clint feel a little jolt of ‘the audacity of this kid’.

“Should weeee,” Pepper stretched the words in her whisper, unsure of how they would be seen, “watch the part with Loki and the Dominatrix again?”

“Oh hell yeah,” Natasha whispered back, happy to have recorded the live broadcast. Wanda adjusted herself and MJ passed the soda cans across the row.

Clint watched the ladies in shock while Steve sat there in hollow surprise, waiting for the screen to go back to the scene as heartfelt wails of two people could be heard from the garden outside with the words ‘so soft’ and ‘my heart ow my heart’.

[princecharmingmendes]

Valentine's Day | Raul Mendes

"When you think you're going to be alone on Valentine's Day, your friend with benefits simply shows up and takes you away on a surprise road trip, the only problem is that you and Raul swore that no feelings were allowed, and it gets harder every second that passes by to keep that promise"

                                              Shawn |  Peter

*I'm so incredibly sorry I took so long to finish this, but here it is, the last part of the Valentine's Day triplets "collection/series", hope you enjoy it!

*Word Count: 7.3K+

*Warnings: cursing, a lil bit of angst, haunted house content and clowns (just in case).

*Posted: February 24th, 2020.

                                                       -*-

The “v” day. I think I can say that for most people I know, or you’re so excited to spend it with your loved one or mostly bitter cause you’re so single it hurts/ dreaming about the perfect day, there are obviously exceptions, but this are pretty accurate. I’m pretty much in the second category. I had flings and untitled relationships before, but never had the chance to actually do all of those cliche things, like go on a fancy dinner or have a chill date at home on sweats and fuzzy socks, never got flowers at school/work, cute messages and chocolates. I didn’t even wanted expensive gifts and flash mobs on Times Square, just wanted to feel loved and cared for by someone that’s not my parents and friends. And this is year it’s not going to be different.

I’m technically single, I just have a fuck buddy and he’s not taking me out on a romantic stride through the park. I mean, Raul’s not that type of guy, at least didn’t show me any signs. We met through Peter since I’ve been working on the same place as him for a few years now and since then we had an agreement, no feelings allowed, only sex. He works a lot and all the time he has, he likes to dedicate to his family, for me was awesome for the same reason, I focused so much on studying and working that I had no time left for a serious relationship, so this seemed perfect at the time. The only problem was the “no feelings allowed rules”, I fucked that up pretty badly.

At the beginning wasn’t hard, we would meet at his place or mine, have sex and the other would leave as soon as possible, and it was great, he might seem as a cold person but he’s a really great lover. The problem started when he came to my place at a particular hard day at work and I insisted on him opening up, that I was there for him. We ended up not doing nothing besides cuddling and he stood the night, and from that things changed drastically. He started asking me to stay the night, we would randomly go out to eat and we would talk a lot. Raul understood where I was and so did I, he tended on shutting people out cause he didn’t want so seem fragile but deep down he’s softer than Peter, he just showed that rarely and to his family, the reason? Trusted and loved the wrong person, and I wasn’t very far from that.

The problem? I fell for him and he didn’t. Not that I asked or anything, I just knew, he would always shut me off when we got too close and he kept saying that this situations between us was perfect the way it is, and he’s really grateful that he has me on his life and that understand his needs. So yeah, not admitting that I actually do have feelings for him and screw this up, I’d rather have him like this than not at all. That’s why I’m sitting on my living room one day before valentine’s day, considering leaving tomorrow after work to my grandparent’s ranch or the beach. That’s why I almost had a stroke when my phone started ringing, Raul’s name lighting up the screen.

“Uh, hey... everything okay?”

“Oh, hey, darling, are you busy?”

“Not really” I said scrolling down the site for plane tickets just in case I wanted to go somewhere else “I just wasn’t expect any calls”

“Oh, sorry, what’re doing tomorrow?” he asked and my heart dropped.

“Tomorrow?! Nothing?! Normal Friday stuff, maybe go away for the weekend, why?”

“It’s valentine’s day!”

“I know, that’s why I’m leaving” I said chuckling.

“Oh... do you have anything planned specifically or bought?”

“Like plane tickets?”

“Yeah”

“No, I’m going through options right now, any suggestions?”

“I actually do”

“Oh, okay, I’m listening”

“Why don’t you come with me on a trip?”

“Hm... what?”

“Oh, come on, I know you hate this day and probably will be stressing yourself if you stay at your home alone” he said and suddenly U couldn’t breath.

I told Raul once that I didn’t like this date in particular, too many expectations were broken on this day, spent a lot of v-days crying or moody cause some stupid boy didn’t think I was good enough. I didn’t expect him to care enough to remember.

“What are you talking about, Raul?”

“I... do you want to go with me on a road trip?”

“Don’t you have shifts to cover or things to do?”

“No, got my schedule clear in caw you wanted to go out with me”

“Oh... but I...”

“You’re the boss on your section” he said cutting me out “and I talked to Peter, he’s going to cover for you”

“Hm... I...”

“Stop trying to find excuses, princess, c’mon, let me take you on an adventure”

“An adventure?”

“Yeah, what do you say about camping? You told me you never camped before”

“Oh, you remember?”

“Of course... so, what do you say?”

“Okay, I guess I don’t have a choice”

“Mhmmm, you’re right, so... can I pick you up at seven?”

“When are we coming back?”

“Sunday after lunch”

“Okay, okay, seven it is”

“Great! I gotta go now, but I’ll pick you up tomorrow”

“Do I need to take something specific?”

“Oh, yeah, it gets cold, but we’re staying in a cabin, so it’s not going to be that bad and I’ll be there, ooh, and please don’t forget that pretty lace baby blue set you bought last Sunday, I assure you you’re not going to regret it”

“Fuck you” I said chuckling and he giggled.

“I gotta go now, princess, text me if you need help with anything”

“Okay, bye, Raul”

“Bye, baby” he said hanging up.

Baby?! What was that?

                                                      -*-

I swear that I tried to keep calm and not read too much into it, but it was impossible. Why did he invited me out on Valentine’s day? How he remembers that stuff I told him?! Why does he care?! It’s impossible not to feel anything.

I couldn’t sleep at all, I spent the whole night playing possible scenarios in my head and checking every single thing that was on my bag. When the alarm rang in the morning, I felt like I was about to die, out of excitement or out of lack of sleep. But I got up and started getting ready for the day, I opted for almost no makeup, hair in a messy bun and comfy clothes that still looked cute, just in case. At seven I was already on the lobby of my building waiting for him, and when I saw his jeep parking right in front I almost died. Raul got out of the car and waved at me, so I walked to him, only to be squeezed in his huge arms in a bear hug.

“Happy valentine’s day” he said in a playful tone.

“Haha, very funny, mister cupid”

“What?”

“Well, you helped both of your brothers on V day”

“Oh yeah, true, so... excited?”

“Yep”

“Great, so am I, can we start this weekend?”

“Sure” I said and he kissed my cheek softly, leaning down and grabbing my small suitcase from me and putting it on his trunk, walking to the passenger’s door and opening it for me.

My heart stopped when I saw a beautiful bouquet of sunflowers on the seat and I froze.

“You told me you liked sunflowers” he mumbled with his hand gently placed on my lower back.

“I did” I said barely louder than a whisper and looked up at him “why?”

“You said you never... you’ve never received flowers before... and I thought maybe you’d like it” he said looking away and scratching the back of his neck with his free hand, a slight blush raising up his cheek.

“I liked it, just didn’t expect it” I said and he looked down at me, I stepped on my tip toes and kissed his cheek.

He pressed me tighter against his chest and wrapped the arm that was already on me around my middle, keeping me close to kiss me. I wrapped my arms around his neck for support as he deepened the kiss a bit more.

“Good morning” he said in a deeper voice and with a smirk laced on his features, but his eyes were still soft.

“Morning” I said chuckling “can I get in the car?”

“Oh, sure” he said giggling and letting go of me.

I hopped on his car as he went to get in on his side, quickly leaving his spot and driving to I don’t know where. He started driving away and turned up the radio, humming to the song lightly and placing his hand on my thigh. Right there, I felt my heart on my throat and I couldn’t breath for a second. He can’t do that and expect me not to fall for him, I mean, that’s fucking impossible, how could you not?

An hour later, he stopped at a diner in the middle of the road and got out of the car, and I was so distracted, lost on my own thoughts, that I didn’t notice him coming by my side and opening the door for me. He chuckled at my wide eyes and little shocked noise while he helped me out. He picked a table at the corner of the place and sat down beside me.

“So... what is your kidnapping plan?”

“Well... I though that we should have breakfast first and I love the food in here”

“Great start” I said and he giggled.

“Thanks, princess, then we’ll go to the campsite for you to get to know the place and get settled in our cabin, and then... well, it is supposed to be a surprise”

“More surprises?”

“Do you want me to ruin it?”

“I... yeah?” I answered and he chuckled.

“I’m taking you to a carnival that’s near the place we’re staying... you also said you missed this kind of things”

“If I didn’t know you, I’d say you’re after my heart, Mendes”

“I might be” he said winking at me and giggling.

Poor thing, didn’t even know that his sort of joke almost killed me every single time.

                                                      -*-

Around 1 pm we decided it was time to go, after all I was starving, we’ve been walking since we got here. The place was breathtaking, there were so many beautiful views, but nothing will beat the lake that’s actually kinda close to our cabin, that’s absolutely adorable. It really seems like a dream come true. We spent a lot of time talking and he told me he’s so happy that his brothers are finally in a relationship that’s healthy and apparently going to last a long time, but he said he also felt kind of empty, since even his baby sister had a boyfriend. Quickly we changed the subject cause it was getting a little bit emotional, I don’t know if I’m ready to deal with his soft and fragile side without saying how I feel, so I’d rather avoid it, even though it seems kind of selfish.

The ride was not too long and very pleasant. Raul knows how to have a good time and he also makes sure everyone around him, at least that he cares about, feel the same way. He parked perfectly and smoothly, and when I hoped out of the car, he had a cocky grin on his face that he just justified as ‘you looked amazed by parking skills’ and I decided not to say the opposite to avoid a fight. He can be very competitive in everything. He bought our tickets and we got in, practically sprinting to find something to eat, at least I was starving.

After a whole bunch of food and his predictable not so funny jokes, we finally started taking a look around to decide where we would go first. We decided to go to the craziest rides first so we wouldn’t get the worst lines since people were eating or didn’t arrive yet. After that, I decided I wanted to get a henna tattoo on my forearm like I did so many times as a kid. Raul was patiently sitting beside me with his tattooed arms showing and attracting many curious looks from kids and other type of curious from some giggling teenage girls and even grown up women.

“Hi” the little voice sounded from behind us and we turned around to see a little girl standing there, holding a backpack.

“Hey, are you lost?”

“No, sir, mommy’s right there” she pointing to a woman standing beside the line on her phone.

“Okay... how can I help you, missy?” he asked with the softest look on his face.

“Did you got all of those with her?” she asked pointing to the girl that was currently drawing on my skin.

“I did not, these are from a few months ago”

“But why don’t they have any color?”

“I think they were out of ink” Raul said and the girl seemed to be thinking about the possibility.

“Can I make them prettier?”

“Of course, how’d you do it?”

“I have some markers, can I paint them?”

“Yes!” he said offering his right arm to her and she grinned big, showing of her missing tooth right in the middle.

She grabbed in her little backpack a pencil case and revealed more than what seemed like a thousand markers, so she started going through the colors and picking a bright pink one, starting to fill Raul’s tattoos with the girly shade. Raul has a beautiful smile gracing his features as he looked so intently at her artwork, her little tongue poking out between her lips in concentration, the scene was absolutely adorable, so cute it was starting to hurt physically.

“Is the pretty girl your girlfriend?” she asked as she was picking out another shade.

“Her?” he asked pointing at me with his free hand.

“Yes, is she your princess?”

“She is, she’s my girl” Raul said as he looked at me, making me blush furiously.

“Helen! What are you doing?? I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry” the woman the little girl pointed earlier as her mom got closer and grabbed her backpack.

“It’s okay, she said she could make them prettier, I really don’t mind” Raul said smiling at Helen and she smiled at him.

“They are prettier, right?” Helen said.

“They are so much better, thank you, Helen” Raul said.

“Thank you, and I’m sorry” Her mom said holding her tiny hand “we gotta go now, your dad is waiting, say thank you to the couple and say goodbye”

“Thank you, princess, thank you...”

“Raul” he said smiling at her.

“Thank you Raul, bye bye” she said waving.

“Bye” I said smiling.

“Thank you again, and I’m sorry, have a nice day” her mom said and walked away with her.

“She’s cute”

“She is”

“You do this a lot?”

“What?”

“Let random kids draw in your arms?” I asked playfully.

“Actually I do”

“Really?”

“Yeah, sometimes at the hospital, when they’re too sad I kinda feel like I should do anything to help, you know? I mean, it sucks for us to be there, now imagine for a little kid”

“That’s actually really sweet, but I should’ve guessed it”

“Why?”

“Remember when I asked you if you could see my friend’s son? Julia’s son?”

“Wait... yeah, Lucas right?”

“Mhmmm, let’s say you made a good impression and not only by your looks”

“So you’re saying I’m attractive?”

“I wasn’t... but I also can’t deny, anyway...”

“Why are you blushing?” he asked with a boyish smirk.

“Am not”

“Yes you are! You look so red it seems like you’re ‘bout to explode”

“Fuck you!”

“Language, princess, there are kids nearby”

“Anyway! As I was saying... she couldn’t shut up about how good you were with her son, how dedicated and sweet, and she was also drooling over your appearance”

“I wouldn’t blame her” he said winking at me.

“Your charm doesn’t work on me”

“I doubt that” he said leaning closer to me slowly, eyes trailed on my lips.

“You shouldn’t, I’m imune to you and your tricks”

“That’s a lie” he said lower and I could literally feel his breath on my lips.

“It’s not”

“Oh it is, princess, and I can prove it to you” he said brushing our lips together.

“All done here” the girl drawing on my skin said stopping me from giving in.

“Thanks” I said getting up and checking her drawing.

It was a beautiful drawing of a Lily, my grandfather’s favorite flower.

“Hey! I love lilies” okay, I wasn’t expecting Raul saying that.

“So does grandpa”

“Cute” he said placing a strand of hair that fell form my bun behind my ear “ and oh... by the way, I’ll prove it to you later” he said before placing a quick kiss on the spot behind my ear that always made me weak on the knees for him “we should get some ice cream or something, at least it’s dried, don’t want to ruin her artwork”

“You’re probably right” I said cleaning my throat.

“Would you ever get a real one?”

“What? A tattoo? I’ve wanted one for a while but never got the guts to do it”

“I can take you if you want”

“Really?”

“Yeah... how about next weekend?”

“Yeah, I can do that”

“I can’t believe you’re actually going to have a tattoo, can’t wait to see that, princess” he said wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

                                                      -*-

We spent pretty much the whole day going to those attractions and I have to be honest, I was having the time of my life. He’s been treating me like a princess and doing all of these cheesy couple-ish things, and even though that’s all I’ve been dreaming of recently, this is also making me feel like we could be more than what we are, but I also have to keep in mind that this isn’t happening and I could almost feel my heart breaking. He’s just so sweet and so funny, and this feels like a date all the time, even though I know this is just so I don’t feel miserable, but at the same time... Ugh, I don’t know, this is just confusing.

Currently we were sitting by a food truck eating ice cream, and I couldn’t stop myself from watching all of his features closely, letting the imagine sink on my brain. He looked so soft with a pink and baby blue ice cream cone as the sunset light his his face on the right places, making me feel something fluttering inside of me. We were talking about the most random topics possible, but he was cut mid sentence and I just stood there staring at him, waiting for him to continue.

“Everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah... it’s just that there’s something in your face”

“Oh” I said rubbing my cheek “there?”

“No, let me just...” the phrase trailed it off as got closer and tried to wipe my face with his thumb, and I swear my breath got caught in my throat. His thumb gently whipped my face and he sucked it clean, and I simply couldn’t stop starring “there you go”

“Thank you” I mumbled softly still too caught up on his hazel eyes.

“What do you want to do now?”

“Haunted house?” was the first thing that popped in my mind that wasn’t too flirtatious.

“How old are you? Three?!”

“No, just think it’s a fun thing to do”

“You can go, I’ll wait here”

“Are you scared, Mendes?”

“No, just don’t like it”

“Why?”

“I just don’t see the hype on it”

“It’s pretty cool, c’mon”

“Fine, only if our last attraction is the ferris wheel”

“Really?” I asked biting my lower lip.

“What? Afraid of heights, princess?”

Not really, just scared of being completely heartbroken on valentine’s day.

“Naaah, you’re the one scared here’s thought you’re tough, Raul”

“I am” He said straightening his posture to seem bigger than he already is.

“Cut the act, if you’re not afraid of it you’re going with me”

“Fine, but you’ll come with me to the ferris wheel then”

“Okay, deal, now let’s go” I said getting up and grabbing his arm.

“What? Now?”

“Yeah, you promised me marshmallows and a campfire”

“Okay, let’s do it then” he said getting up as well and grabbing my hand.

We went to the line that wasn’t really that big and from the corner of my eye I saw Raul  bouncing on his feet. It was pretty hilarious seeing a guy this big, who dealt with a lot worse situations on a hospital as pediatric surgeon, with a bunch of tattoos (a few colored with pink ink by Helen) and piercings, nervous about a hunted house made for teens.

“Raul... if you don’t want to go... it’s”

“I’m going” he said cutting me off and looking at me.

“Okay, okay, good, cause we’re next”

He took a deep breath and pulled me into the house. It was a classic hunted house at the beginning, with some stuff jumping at us and screaming, it was fine. But as we got deeper into the space, things started getting a little bit scarier. It was no longer machines, but people with really great makeup on actually starting to follow us around, making us actually run through the rooms like our life’s actually depended on it. I was actually having fun, giggling through the process until one of the last rooms. We got in and it was all dark, with only one light in the middle of the room that was pretty low. I could hear water running somewhere and there were a bunch of piles that I couldn’t recognize, and that was all the noise and shapes I could actually see.

“What do you think this is?” I whispered to Raul who was standing behind me with one of his hands on my waist.

“I don’t know, princess, but it’s oddly familiar” he said pulling me closer to him.

“Yeah, I think it’s from...” my sentence was cut in half as that song started playing and the light lit up enough to see a pile of ‘bodies’ laying around.

It was the classical scene from ‘It’ in the swell. When I looked to one of the corners, there he was, someone dressed as Pennywise smiling wickedly at us and I felt my heart stop. When I was younger, I was so damn afraid of clowns, but as I grew older, I thought that fear was gone, I haven’t been scared for ages and I don’t what it was, but this was the creepiest things I’ve ever seen. I guess Raul sensed that I wasn’t okay and grabbed my hand, dragging me out of the house before anything could happen. He gently sat me down on a bench that was behind the house and offered me his water bottle, that I gladly took and chugged it down.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly as he crouched down to be on my eye level.

“Yeah, just got a little...”

“I know” he said holding my hand and kissing my knuckles.

“I’m better now”

“Sure?” he asked and I just nodded “wanna go see if we can get a huge teddy bear?”

“Why?”

“It’s valentine’s day, princess, I think you deserve it”

“Okay, then” I said smiling and getting up.

Raul took the opportunity to place his hand on my lower back, slowly trailing down to end up on my back pocket, giving me the opportunity to stop him. That’s one of the things that always makes my heart beat a little faster. He’s known for his one nights stands and temper, but very few people know he’s actually a really selfless lover and always makes sure the other is extremely comfortable with everything that’s going on, and he can also be extremely sweet if he wants too. And that’s the problem, he rarely shows this side of his to people, so that’s why no one knows what he’s really like.

We went to a tent where we had to drop as many cans as possible to reach to the huge bear, with ping pong balls. The guy said we could make a pair and try it, but no one got the teddy bear yet. I think Raul felt challenged and said we could do it without blinking, he payed and turned to me, placing the bucket with balls in front of us. The guy started the timer and we started shooting as much as we could, throwing three balls at once and it was simply impossible to drop on of the cans specifically, even though we hit it a bunch of times. The guy announced time was off and that we didn’t make it, with a cocky grin on his face.

“There’s something wrong with that can, we shot it a million times, you’re fooling everyone” Raul said.

“Sorry you couldn’t impress your date, maybe you should find someone who could actually drop a few cans”

“I could if you didn’t glue it or something, and she’s not a date, she’s my girl” he said playing with his rings, which meant he was nervous.

“Yeah? Prove it, pretty boy”

“Look...” Raul started saying but I placed my hands gently on his chest and his voice died on his throat.

“Let me just see if I get it” I said turning my head to the guy from the tent and batting my lashes at him “all I have to do is drop all the cans with the bucket we gave to us, right?”

“If you want the teddy bear, then that’s it, but you can pick the prize from the last round”

“Okay, can I play again and then pick the prizes?” I asked as sweetly as I could.

“Sure, ma’am”

“We’re not going to play again” Raul said looking straight at the dude.

“Please” I asked turning my face to him and rubbing his chest gently “just trust me” I asked pouting and he sighed, nodding.

“Fine”

I smiled at him and placed a chaste kiss on his lips, making him grin.

“Ready?” I asked Raul as we got back to our places and he nodded “go!”

We started throwing everything again and dropping all of them again, and as I imagined, the same can didn’t seem to even move even though we kept throwing all the balls on it. I suddenly grabbed the metal bucket and threw everything and was on it on the floor, throwing the bucket itself and finally dropping the last can. I turned to both of them smiling widely and they stared at me in shock, Raul’s face quickly turning into a boyish grin and the guy seemed angry.

“That’s not valid, I said...”

“You said that I had to drop all the cans only with the material you provided me, I’m pretty sure you gave me the fucking bear and that cute set of pillow of ‘Mr. Right’ and ‘Mrs. Always Right’”

“No fucking way, you can’t...” the guy started but Raul grabbed him by the colar.

“Give her what she asked for, you’re the little shit here who cheated on the first place, now, the fucking bear” Raul said in a raspy voice that almost had me and the guy both fainting, but for very different reasons.

“Okay” he said grabbing both of the requested items and giving it to us.

“Ferris wheel?”

“Do we really need to go?”

“Yeah, I went to that haunted thing, you’re coming with me”

“Fine” I said and went to wait in line while he placed the bear and pillows on his trunk.

The line was a little longer than usual, sunset was starting so it would be a pretty view when you hit the top. Raul has his arm around my shoulder as soon as he got in it with me, we had a casual chatter until it was our turn to hop on the seats. He placed my legs over his lap, keeping a hand on my thigh as the other one held my hand. There was a pleasant breeze hitting us and I payed my head on his shoulder as the attraction started working. I could easily picture us as a real thing when he acted like that, so soft and sweet, without the whole sex part of our relationship’, but unfortunately I had to remind myself every time that this was just that, nothing less and nothing more.

“You’re gorgeous” I heard his raspy and low voice and turned to face him.

“You are too” I said as I felt the blush rising on my cheeks.

“And cute” he said chuckling and turning a little bit sideways, so I was still comfortable with my legs above his, but he could pull me closer and keep his arm on the backrest of the seat “do you ever wonder about the future?”

“Hm, yeah, I want to be able to still live in Toronto, but also would like to expand my job a bit more”

“No, I know that... I was asking about your personal life, I love to hear about your job but that’s all you seem to talk about”

“Well, that’s all I think about”

“Don’t you think about a serious relationship or settling down?”

“Sometimes, I just try not to focus too much on it... you?”

“Me?” he asked and looked straight ahead, giving me the opportunity to analise his face better with the orange and pink glow lighting up his greek god like features “I’ve never really thought about it, at least not since my last girlfriend... I mean, I know I’d love to be a dad and getting up to do pancakes on a Sunday and all that cute shit, I just thought for a long while that I wasn’t ready for that yet”

“She didn’t deserve you” I spilled it out before I could hold it back and he just chuckled looking at me through the corner of his eye.

“I wasn’t the best boyfriend”

“That’s a lie and everyone knows it except you, Raul” I said and he just shrugged “I’m serious, I’m not your girlfriend and you did all of these little things for me, I can’t even imagine what you did for her, and... are you even listening?” I asked as I noticed that he was staring at me but his mind was somewhere else.

“I’m sorry” he mumbled cupping my face gently with one hand “it’s just... you look so good right now, I just keep getting lost in your eyes”

“Any girl would be lucky to have you, or to call you hers”

“It’s a shame they can’t though” his gaze kept falling to my lips as he spoke.

“At least they get to kiss you”

“Hmm no, they don’t, but you do” he said softly as he crashed our lips together on a tender kiss, the ferris wheel on top, just like those cliche movies I like to say I hate but at the end of the day I’m always watching them and crying my eyes out.

His hand on my face kept lightly caressing my cheek with his thumb as the other pulled me closer by my waist, placing me practically on his lap. I threaded my fingers on his chocolate locks and moved without breaking the kiss to actually sit on his lap, earning a little strangled moan from him. His lips were moving in sync with mine in a way I haven’t felt before. It was obviously filled with desire and passion, but at the same time was loving and like he had all the time in the world to kiss me, deepening it slowly, letting his hand on my leg trail and gently squeeze my thigh.

It was vicious kissing him and I couldn’t stop myself from getting lost in all the sensations he was providing. I could feel him everywhere -on my tongue, on my lips, on my cheeks, on my sides, on the back of my neck, under me; his scent was all I could smell and he was all I could taste. The only sounds I was able to hear were the soft ones we couldn’t hold back and my heart beating wildly in my ears. It’s like my mind went completely blank and I swear I never felt this way by only kissing him or anyone without second intentions. Even though it was passionate, it wasn’t with sexual intentions, it was something much deeper than that.

He pulled back for air after what felt like a lifetime but not enough time altogether, but his hands didn’t let me go anywhere, not that I actually wanted to. He rested his forehead in mine as we caught our breaths, the two of us grinning like idiots as the wheel started going down. He placed a chaste kiss on my lips one more time and just stared into my eyes, like he could see my soul.

“I wasn’t going to talk to you about it today but....” he mumbled softly, his voice deep and with the raspy tone I love way too much “...when you asked me about the future, I said and still try to say that I’m not ready yet and that I don’t know, that I don’t think about it, but that’s a lie, I’ve thought about it recently and that’s all that’s been on my mind lately, and maybe it is time to settle down”

Holy shit, that’s what this whole trip thing is about. He’s about to say that what we have is over. That was a goodbye kiss or something like that, oh my God, that’s what Peter meant when he told me to be careful when he first heard about us. Raul’s collection of broken hearts were huge and everyone knew it. I should’ve known better.

“Raul... I don’t want to talk about it, please” I said getting away from his touch to clear my head

“But, Y/N” shit, he didn’t even called me ‘princess’ or whatever.

“Don’t, please don’t do this to me, I don’t want to go through this again”

“Okay, do you want to go back to the cabin?” he asked and I nodded, bracing myself as I finally felt the temperature falling “are you cold? Do you want my jacket?” he offered and I shook my head.

We hopped off the attraction as soon as we could and walked to the car in a deafening silence. The drive to the campsite seemed longer than it actually was, he kept stealing glances at me with a concerned expression all over his face, but I kept my glare outside the car, curled into a ball on the passenger seat. As soon as the car went into a full stop in front of where we would spend the night, I got out and went straight into the bathroom, locking the door and sitting on the floor, finally letting all the emotions I was holding back flow out into tears.

I finally thought I’ve found someone who could be the one for me, he actually treated me right and cared about me, but apparently I don’t get to have a happy ending. I’m just tired of always being the second choice or the ‘good time call’. And with him, I finally felt like I might’ve been the one. I guess that’s why everyone falls for him. He makes us feel special and then get bored, just to mine onto the next one. And the worst? He doesn’t do it on purpose, he told me he’s not the one to catch feelings and he did everything the promised, I was the one reading too much into it. And it’s all my fault.

Once I got over my pitiful situation, I got up and decided to shower, taking my sweet time to try to relax and get that boy out of my head. When I was done with it, I went back to the room wrapped up on a towel and there was no sight of him at all, but his stuff were still there, so I took the opportunity to grab a pair of a white lace lingerie (since all the pieces I brought were similar, I had to pick one), sweatpants and a hoodie. I changed into it and braided my hair loosely, grabbing a pair of uggs I went out to try to find him. Only to see him sitting by a campfire with a backpack beside him, wrapped in a blanket and holding a stick into the fire with a marshmallow on the end. I don’t know if he noticed me, but if he did, he didn’t show, he just stood there, staring at the flames with a sour expression.

“You should grab a blanket or go back inside” he mumbled after a while, making me jump because I wasn’t expecting him to talk to me at all after my little shit show.

“Hm, actually, can I talk to you?”

“Sure” he said sighing and eating the sugary treat, I took a deep breath and sat beside him on the wood improvised bench.

“You did the campfire”

“You said you wanted one, I wanted to do as many things you wanted today, and besides, I’ve already brought the wine and marshmallows”

“Yeah, I noticed your efforts, thank you for that” I said and he nodded.

“It was worth it” he said and the awkward silence was starting to come back until I decided to break it.

“I’m sorry, about the way I acted, there’s just no excuse for what I did, you’re trying to talk to me and I just snapped at you for no reason, I’m so sorry” I said looking at the fire.

“It’s not your fault, maybe we weren’t ready to talk about it”

“No, it is, I got everything wrong and didn’t even let you finished... we’re friends, it’s my job to listen to you and help you when you need it”

“I’m sorry”

“I’m sorry too” I said softly and curling myself into a ball to not freeze to death.

“Hey, come here” he said opening his blanket for me to get closer to him, and I obliged happily, being quickly engulfed in his warmth and his scent “if I give you a marshmallow, will we go back to normal?”

“Sure” I said smiling at him and he chuckled.

He offered me a glass of wine and I could not refuse it. We spent what felt like ages just talking about random stuff and eating marshmallows, holding each other to keep us warm. Raul really is amazing and I don’t know if I’m ready to loose all of this, I hope we can still be friends after this.

“So... can I ask you why you’re crying?”

“I wasn’t” I said hating myself from being so transparent.

“Princess...”

“I just... it’s stupid really... and you probably already imagine why so...”

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that”

“So... who’s the lucky girl?” I tried changing the subject a little.

“Lucky girl? Honey, you’ve had like a glass of whine, are you already drunk?”

“What? Don’t act like I’m the crazy one, I know okay? I’m over it, I just want to be a good friend and get to know her”

“Get to know who, Y/N?!”

“The girl you’ve been thinking about settling down and stuff, there’s a girl, right? Isn’t that why you want to end things with me?”

“What the hell are you... oh my God, Y/N!”

“What?” I asked and he started full on laughing “it’s not funny, you know?”

“Shit, sorry, princess” he said trying to hold back the laughter “there’s no girl, I’m not seeing anyone but you, thought you knew that already, and I’m not ending anything! Are you crazy? Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know, maybe you got bored and I don’t know, Raul, I just... I guess I got too confused about today and then you started talking about how you never thought about the future until now”

“Oh no, no, you got all wrong, there’s no other girl and I’m not bored, how could I be bored around you? You’re everything that’s been keeping me sane lately, I need you so fucking bad” he said looking quite desperate to make me believe on him “I know I suck at communicating and I need to work on that, but I thought that this was already too obvious”

“What?”

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Jesus Christ, you don’t know? What does all of our months together and today mean to you?”

“That you’re very loving and caring when you can, and the best friend I could ever had”

“Is that all? Nothing else came to your mind?”

“Hmm... no?”

“I’m fucking head over heels in love with you, dumbass”

“Wait a second... what?!”

“That’s what you heard, God, I can’t believe you didn’t notice!”

“How could I?”

“I took you to my parents, I dropped a lot of shifts just to cuddle the fuck out of you when you have a bad day or are your period, you’re the only one besides my family who’s seen the softest side of me, the only one besides my brothers who I tell everything to, the one I took five days off work to organize and take you to this trip on valentine’s day to keep you from being sad and also taking you on a date without freaking you out, to me we’ve been a lot more then special friends for ages now and I’m so sorry for that, I made the rule about no feelings allowed and I broke it, and I know you don’t feel the same, I just never thought you’d be so sad about it, or I wouldn’t even mention the subject of the future...”

“Shut up for like a second” I said cutting him off “are you telling me you’ve been in love with me this whole time and didn’t say a thing?”

“You’re crying half an hour ago, how did you expect me to tell you that earlier?!” He had a point. And I can’t believe I never noticed all the stuff he did for me and only me “Hm... can you say something?”

“Well, I guess I’m pretty dumb, cause I was crying cause I thought you wanted someone else and that hurt like hell cause I fell for you too”

“Are you kidding me?” he asked with the biggest smile on his face, he could literally light up the whole carnival if he wanted.

“Nope”

“You actually fell for me? Like I did for you?”

“Just like that” I said grinning like a freak.

He cupped my jaw with his massive hand and pulled me in for a kiss. It was like there were fireworks everywhere. His lips molded into mine like they’re made to be glued together forever. His tongue swiped on my bottom lip asking for me to open my mouth, which I did without even blinking, making Raul let out a soft groan, pulling me to straddle his thighs as he deepened the kiss, and not long after, trailing the down my neck with opened-mouth kisses, making me whimper lightly and soon I felt his smirk against my skin.

“Not the worst valentine’s day, eh?” he said kissing my forehead as we tried to recover from the kiss.

“Nope, definitely the best” I said cupping his face and kissing him all over again.

                                                       -*-

*Last piece inspired by the valentine’s day!

*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.

*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.

*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!

*Hope you guys enjoyed it!

*xoxo

-🌙

: @fivefeetapartt

[shiversdownyerspine]

5. Deprived

Gettin a little hot in here. :B

18+

The kittens arrive in the quiet of the night, stars dotting the deep dark blanket of sky. Sleep had failed to find you, and so you had shuffled your pajama-clad way to your kitchen with a chunky knit blanket wrapped around your chilly shoulders. The thick charcoal colored material dangles to the backs of your knees as you wait impatiently for your kettle to boil water for a big cup of chamomile tea.

As the water softly bubbles to your earnest desires of being lured to sleep, you find yourself distracted by a soft knock on your front door. You perk up, knowing by experience that this would be your nameless, faceless animal transporter. And just like with every other task animal, when you open the door you find nobody in sight, just a randomly sized pet kennel resting on your doorstep. You kneel and scoop up the crate to bring it inside.

Excitement momentarily stealing away your drowsiness, you quickly switch off the heat of your stove and carry your cargo to your room. Tea can wait a moment, the water will still be plenty hot by the time you're done. Closing the door behind you, you take a quick peek to find two fuzzballs huddled together at the back of the crate. The kittens are awake but clearly tired, and judging from their quivering bodies, probably a little bit stressed. Not wanting to cause more discomfort, you quietly unlock the kennel door to slowly reach in and gather them up for a quick health check.

Eyes, ears, and noses look clear and healthy, tiny claws and whiskers and tails are where they should be, no bumps or scratches to be seen. You briefly tut at the lack of towel or blanket in their kennel, worried about the absence of warmth and comfort. You've tried requesting some basic amenities for when your task animals are being prepared for delivery, but your needs have yet to be met. You're fairly certain by now that they never will be.

Both kittens are male and look to be around seven weeks old, still a bit too young to be neutered. As a matter of fact, they are still too young to be away from their mother, but some things just can't be helped. Judging by the pale bodies and dark brown coloration of their ears, face, tails, and paws, they are chocolate points. Satisfied, you pop the babies back inside and grab up the fluffy towel waiting on your dresser, carefully pushing it in and around the kittens before moving them to your bathroom.

Nestling their kennel in the corner of their 'room', you drape another blanket over them to offer privacy and leave the crate door open a crack for if they choose to explore. Softly closing the door to your bathroom, you head out of your bedroom and step once more to your kitchen to finally fix your mug of tea. Hot drink in hand, your gaze settles on the stove clock which reads 4:57 AM. With a sigh, you sip your tea and tug your blanket further up your shoulder, lamenting the lack of sleep you will be suffering from come morning. You suppose in the end you'll just have to rely on good ol' fashioned coffee to offer you any sort of alertness today. Resigned, you wander off to your bedroom, but are interrupted before you can make it there.

Midstep, you nearly drop your mug when the door to your guest room opens and there in the doorway stands a groggy, long john wearing Otto. Long hair ruffled and eyes half-lidded, he peers down at you questioningly. You freeze, your eyes sweeping up and down over his defined muscles before a blush rises to your cheeks and you drop your gaze to your feet, murmuring an apology for waking him and quickly explaining away the disrupted sleep because of the kittens arrival. You apologize once more and quickly scurry to your room as a befuddled Otto looks on, wondering why you had been up long before the kittens arrived.

Three cups of coffee in, the morning comes and goes relatively uneventfully. You do have to insist to an avidly interested Oscar that he wait just a little while longer to meet the kittens as they are still waking up and quite uncertain about their new home. You promise after their breakfast he can visit, lightly patting the grumbling man's back in reply as his brothers drink their coffee. With kitten food in hand, you hope this will help coax the babies out of their kennel. You amusedly eye Butternut and Pumpkin who are crowded around the door to your room, smelling intently.

You nudge them away with a hum of, "In due time you goofs."

To your delight the kittens perk up noticeably after feeding, and after some consideration you poke your head out your room to softly call for anyone interested to come see. As long as they keep the other cats out, that is. Oscar is naturally the first one up out of his chair while Axel and Otto hesitate before joining their younger sibling. They were simply bored, but they did have some interest in the mystery surrounding you and thereby extending to your room as well.

You tell the brothers to mind their feet before noticing Otto subtly eyeing your odd assortment of bits and bobs you have collected in a small jewelry box that had long since lost its shine and its lid. As Oscar and Axel carefully slip into the bathroom, they linger to watch you curiously from the doorway as you step to Otto to reach in your treasure box.

"I'm a bit of a collector, if something has a good texture and makes an impression, I tend to keep it."

An old bullet casing brushes your searching fingertips; you hold up the item for Otto to take, which he does, warm fingers brushing against your own slender digits. He rolls the hollow shell between thumb and forefinger as he inspects it closely. Perusing your other little knickknacks, you muse aloud how you never really plan to do anything with the trinkets, just allow yourself to indulge in an odd whim every once in a while.

Hearing the squeaky inquisitive sounds from the kennel in your bathroom, you and your little entourage find your attentions being redirected. With a gentle bump of your knuckles against Otto's wrist, you motion to follow you. Behind you the man's eyes drag up and down your figure in a surreptitious slide, settling minutely on the full curve of your rear before forcing himself to focus instead on the little jewelry box as he returns the tiny article to its rightful place.

With curiosity sated and more information shared about the tiny fuzzy additions to your home, you usher your guests out of your room as the kittens settle in for a much needed nap. You're tempted to follow their lead and crash on your bed, but you have a couple more things to do. One task being to introduce the towel you had rubbed the two kittens down with to your cats as a pseudo meeting. The Swedes watch in the living room from the sofa as Pumpkin takes a whiff, fluffs up, and slinks away while Butternut just plops herself down next to the towel like it's the most interesting thing she's ever smelled.

The other task? Well, technically you owe Axel and his brothers a tidbit of information after you refused to answer a question about your feathers during his 'interrogation'. And as you admit to the Swedes that you owe them some extra information, Oscar jumps right in.

"What is...favorite animal..no..task animal?"...It's technically against the rules, but it's a good question so you'll allow it.

Excited, you gush, "My pekin duck! Now, I love all my animals, but being my very first task, she's special. Most likely she was going to be prepared for food but the target never made it to dinner. She was wild-caught so it wasn't difficult to rehabilitate and release her. Good thing the woods have a lake. Well, more of a glorified pond really, but she loves it."

Axel side-eyes you slyly, "Duck makes good meal, shame."

You gasp, "No!..Well okay, probably, but I could never eat Ducky!"

Simultaneously, Axel's brows lifted high, Otto choked, and Oscar gasped, "Ducky?! Her name?"

You hesitate, ears red, before exclaiming proudly, "Yes, Ducky. Ducky the Pekin duck...come on this shouldn't surprise you, I named my cats after squash! Don't you dare laugh!"

Otto was roughly huffing into his fist as you floundered. Oscar had shifted closer to you with a wide grin, bumping his knee against yours. 

Axel smirked, teasingly sounding out the two syllables, "Duck-y..."

The glare you send his way is intended to be irritated, but is quickly ruined by your twitching lips fighting back a smile.

"I-It's a childhood thing! I couldn't bring myself to call her anything else!" You rub your cheeks, as if that would somehow lift the vivid color from your face.

"The lake by our orphanage had a variety of birds, and every single one in that water was Ducky. I was too young to really care about the differences. Also it drove our poor caretaker crazy, which ah...kind of enforced the habit."

Your mirth falters as you process your little slip up...that's what your lack of sleep gets you, you suppose. Okay, no use fretting. Push on.

"So when I saw my first animal, her name was already decided really." You smooth the material of the towel in your hands, relaxing your posture. 

"Chickens." You blink, looking quizzically to Axel. He nods towards Oscar.

Otto shifts his weight from one leg to the other, hands tugging his suspenders as he adds, "Chicken thief."

Your gaze settles on the youngest Swede with a playful gasp, "Oscar, really?"

The man meets your feigned incredulity with his ever-wicked smirk and declares with devilish pride, "Salt and Peppar."

It clicks, "...You named them after seasoning. Because you were going to eat them?"

Axel drags his eyes from Oscar to you, "Eventually."

You can't help but giggle, the three men twitching at the sound, "So, when you were younger you stole chickens? Wait wait, I'm going to guess...it wasn't just Oscar..and he roped you two into it?"

Oscar barks a laugh as the other two sigh and nod. You grin, "Goodness, chicken thieves in my home. Did you all get caught?"

Smug, Oscar shook his head as Otto responded, "Nej. Too fast. We...kept for eggs, ate later...old age."

You bump your elbow gently against Oscar's arm, immediately drawing his attention to you, "I've never had chickens before, but my old Ducky does have a bit of an attitude. How were Salt and Peppar?"

Axel snorts, leaning forward, "Angry. Not bad killing mice. Also good flavor."

Otto folds his arms across his chest, nodding in agreement. You chuckle, "Okay if any of you see Ducky, you can't eat her. It's just not allowed."

Still staring, Oscar licks his lips, "..Can we eat you?"

Axel and Otto tense, eyes boring holes into the scoundrel. You scoff, completely missing the lewd innuendo, "Oh ha ha clever; I have feathers, like poultry. Very funny."

You stand with a smile, realizing you should really grab some kind of food mat for the messy eaters resting in your bathroom before lunch time rolls around. You retreat to the kitchen to search while the brothers linger in the living room, staring Oscar down. Butternut in his arms, the youngest removes himself from the floor just to lazily stretch out on the sofa, innocent as can be as he ignores his brothers obvious ire. Pumpkin slips out from under the coffee table to hop up and settle on his stomach in classic cat-loaf position.

Axel begrudgingly turns his attention to you, recalling your cheeky attitude and fiery stubbornness concerning his prior questions in the kitchen a good while ago...yes, he won't deny how heat had pooled in his loins at your antics, bubbling even more when he glimpsed charming pink shyly sweep between your lips. But obviously it wasn't enough to tempt him; no, he didn't imagine himself seated at that very same chair, boots planted firmly on the kitchen floor as his hands squeeze your rear, bouncing you naked in his lap, fucking the defiance out of you as you moan and beg and promise you'll be good- he sucks in a breath, nostrils flaring. Taking a moment to reign in his hormones, he stalks off to the garden for fresh air, scowling all the while. Oscar.

Otto grimaces at Oscar's impertinence and clenches his hands, hesitating as remorse unsettles his stomach as he remembers the feel of you, your back against his front, his hands holding your body helpless and trembling with distress...and wonders instead about making you shake with something else; smoothing his hands over soft fabric to push under your sweater and up quivering belly to gently palm your breasts, pushing fabric away to bare them to his touch, fingers brushing your nipples, lightly pinching and plucking as your head lolls back, your hips rolling to push your ass against him- he exhales, trousers feeling just a tad uncomfortable. With a rough swallow, he lumbers off down the hallway to their room to...regain his composure. Fucking Oscar.

Oscar knows damn well what he's done. He's noticed the way his brothers' eyes linger on you, their growing infatuation not nearly as hidden as they thought. At least not from each other. Now they won't be able to get some rather debauched ideas out of their heads; just like he can't get rid of the thought of your pretty startled eyes blinking up at him, but instead of up, you're peering down, doe-eyed as he moves down your body and between spread legs, preparing to demonstrate the actual meaning of his joke as his hungry mouth hovers teasingly over your panties, just close enough that he can smell you as the heat of his breath warms the dampening fabric.

Oscar strains his neck to sneak a glance at you in the kitchen, adoration softening his expression as he hears your joyful exclamation when you track down the food mat for the kittens. It's possible you were just doing your hostly duties, but they all notice how you blossom as you accept their presence and he and his brothers gradually accept yours. He has no doubt his brothers are subconsciously beginning to consider you theirs; he saw with his own incredulous eyes as big, brutish Otto held you still, firm but careful, not a single feather crushed under fist...or how Axel, steely, stern Axel, was opening up to you about their own lives, tiny piece that it was. He had almost been stunned into silence with that one.

The thought of you in their beds had been just that; a tempting thought, conjured by night and temporarily sated come morning. But seeing his brothers' walls cracking, little by little? How curious. He can't resist giving his stubborn brothers a little push, jostling their imaginations, maybe some taunting thrown in to strain those cracks?...oh, this will be fucking fun.