#but on the other hand. the mouse is nothing if not hungry for the next big buck

[caliburn-the-sword]

time travel is often as an excuse to do MASSIVE retcons and more or less do a major overhaul of established history and/or worldbuilding. how certain can we be that disney didn't create the time travel plot for the sole purpose of completely erasing the first three descendants movies for a new, fully rebooted era rather than a spinoff??

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x plus-sized!fem!reader

Summary: When you overhear some of James's friends comment on your weight, James comforts you.

Genre: Fluff, hurt and comfort 🤧💗

Warnings: insecurities, bullying over someone's weight, reader's weight is heavily implied (obviously), crying, swearing, protective!James <3

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

You hear a snarl, "Did you see what she had for dinner?" Andy laughs loudly, "It isn't surprising she's fat, huh?"

Your heart sinks.

Benjamin hums in approval and adds, "I wonder what James even sees in her."

Their words echo around your head as you twist and turn your way around tables to find James again. He's laughing like a little boy when you see him, his smile so wide it's almost obnoxious as he rests his arm on top of your empty chair.

His cheeks look dusted pink from the wine he'd drank. He's so handsome, you think, and when you see the cake you had wanted earlier your cheeks become warm.

Quiet as a mouse, you slide into your chair and James turns to send you a grin. You send him a weak smile in return and then look down at the small plate in front of you. Raspberry Cheesecake. Your favorite. You look around. None of the other girlfriends have ordered any desserts.

You glance nervously at James again. He's chatting with his friends and he looks so happy. He's been so generous to you all evening, letting you pick anything on the menu because yes this was his teams' celebratory dinner, but as your boyfriend he wouldn't even think of letting you pay for yourself.

Guilt hits you hard. While his teammates girlfriends' had ordered lighter meals, you honestly didn't think much of it when you ordered a larger one. You didn't have the chance to have lunch, and those french fries sounded incredibly delicious.

You pick up your spoon and immediately, your lower lip trembles. Quickly, you sink your teeth into it and the pain soothes your sudden need to burst into embarrassed tears. When James's hand comes to your thigh, a gesture so mundane for him, you jump.

James turns his head and leans in closer to your ear, "What's wrong, darling?" he asks in a whisper, his thumb drawing circles on your skin. When you don't respond like you usually do by leaning in closer to him, he pulls away and looks at you seriously. His eyes bounce around all your features as if he's trying to understand if you're injured or upset.

"It's nothing," you mumble and look at your plate, "I'm just not hungry anymore."

James frowns. "Are you sure? I know this is your favorite," he winks with a teasing smile, recalling how happy you looked when you saw it on the menu.

You nod, freezing when you hear Andy and Benjamin walk back from the restroom. When they sit next to their girlfriends: their gorgeous, slim, girlfriends, you want to wither away as you suddenly feel like an elephant in the same maroon velvet dress you'd felt so pretty in earlier.

Immediately sensing your discomfort, James's smile disappears. He turns to his teammates and then glances at you as he takes your hand, squeezing it. "I'll get you a box, my love. And then I'll pay and we can go home, mmhm?" he says but you shake your head.

"No, you can finish your dinner, Jamie," you insist, your voice small. You don't want to ruin this for him.

James doesn't listen because soon, he's helping you out of your chair, your cheesecake in a box in his hand, as he says his goodbyes to his friends. You feel Andy and Benjamin staring as you leave and, on instinct, you let James walk further in front of you so you don't embarrass him.

However, James's arm links around your waist and moves you in closer to him the moment the fresh evening air hits your skin. You bump into his chest and feel the familiar warmth of his lips press against your temple as he inhales your scent.

"I love you," he says.

You don't answer, instead curling your arms around your stomach protectively. James drops his hand and asks, "Hey, are you cold, lovely?"

You stay quiet again, opting to chew on the inside of your cheek.

James takes your elbow and spins you around so you're facing him. You can't look him in the eyes as your arms hug around you. James gently moves you so you're boxed into the building and his arm as he bends his head to you a little.

"Hey, what's wrong? What happened? Talk to me," he holds your chin in his hand and makes you look at him. When he sees how glossy your eyes are, his heart breaks. "Oh, love," his voice is smooth and you can hear the sadness in his words.

At this, you can't help the tears that rapidly cascade down your cheeks. You try wiping them with your palm so he won't see them but it's no use because James has already taken you into his arms and you're practically sobbing into his chest now. You feel him inhale sharply as his hand strokes the back of your head, his fingers intertwining into your hair. He's cooing small, confused, praises into your ear as he holds you.

You can hear in his voice that he doesn't understand, "Baby, please, what happened?" he asks again and his heart shatters even more when he hears your hiccuped cry.

You shake your head into his chest.

I wonder what James even sees in her.

Benjamin's words won't leave your mind and the tears continue to fall.

"Is it something I did? Because if it is, I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry I'm making you cry."

You pull away hearing this, shaking your head more frantically as snot runs down your nose. "No James, it's not y-you." You whimper and James uses his free hand to thumb at the tears near your eyes.

"Then what happened?" he asks again.

You look away, suddenly embarrassed, "I- am I- I too fat for you?"

The question is immediately followed by a deafening silence as James's hand slides from your cheeks. You can see his eyes bounce around your face, searching for any sign that you're making a joke. He can't imagine you actually mean what you've just asked him.

"Y/n, why would you ask me that?!" James manages to ask. He sounds upset.

Your lip trembles and the tears resume, "Some of your friends," You start and James's eyes narrow, "I - I heard them make some comments about what I had for dinner and h-how you deserve someone prettier, slimmer and — "

"Who said that?" James interrupts you, his voice stern.

"I mean, they didn't say it in those exact words."

"Who was it, Y/n?" James repeats. He couldn't give any fucks what exactly his friend had said, all he needed to know was that whatever those assholes had said it made you cry, no sob, into his chest.

"It doesn't matter," you sniff, looking away from your boyfriend, "They're right. You deserve someone better than me, someone prettier. You're way out of my league. I have always known that," you force out a heartbroken laugh.

James's voice breaks. "How can you say that?"

He holds your cheek in his hand. Your cheeks warm up as your eyes widen, surprised by the passion and emotion in his movements as James plants a sloppy kiss on your forehead.

He sprinkles kisses all across your face. "Fuck, I love you. I don't want anyone else," His hand slides under your chin and tilts your head up just slightly so he can make sure you're looking at him again. "I'm the one who doesn't deserve to call someone as beautiful and kind as you, mine." He kisses your lips delicately.

You clutch at James's arm, voice shaky when you ask, "So you don't think I'm too fat,"

James shakes his head instantly and presses his forehead against yours, "Oh baby, no. You aren't. There is no such thing when love is involved. I love you like this and I'll love you whatever you decide to look like in the future."

You let him hold you, nuzzling into him as finally your tears start to calm. James's body is warm and it sends goosebumps up your skin. "I love you," you whisper, wanting to hear him say it too.

James doesn't hesitate, "I love you. I absolutely adore you," his lips find your cheek and he kisses you again. He pulls away and looks into your eyes. "Please don't cry like this again, you don't know how much it breaks my heart," his hand comes to push some hair away from your eyes. "Now, can you tell me who put those stupid ideas in your head so I know who I have to beat up?"

You can tell he's only half joking and you chuckle. "I promise it doesn't matter."

"Matters to me," He grumbles but doesn't push you to answer. He turns you around and pulls you in closer by your waist as he continues to walk you home.

Once you arrive at your apartment, you convince James to stay the night – or rather you ask since it didn't take much convincing at all.

As you sit on the couch, waiting for him to come so you can start your movie, James walks into the room with your cheesecake and a spoon. You look up, a small smile curling your lips.

"I said I wasn't hungry," you move over and let him sit next to you.

"Oh shush," James rolls his eyes and hands you the plate. He knows you too well for that excuse. You take the plate into your lap and then reach for the spoon.

James makes a tsk noise and holds it away from you. You pout. "Nuhuh, in this relationship we share," he says, grinning, and lowers his hand in front of you. With a click of metal, just like a magician, he reveals another spoon behind yours and you smirk.

"Prick," you mutter and snatch one of the spoons from him. Despite your insult, you adjust your position so James can easily access the cheesecake.

You turn away from him and take a mouthful as you exaggerate a moan and James scoots closer. He does the same and he also grins.

"Delicious," he says and looks at you. With his spoon, he gently taps your nose. "You have some here, love," he teases as if he isn't the one who just smudged cheesecake all over you.

You lean in and playfully rub your nose over his shirt, which earns a groan as James tries to push you away. "Hey! I like this shirt," he whines.

"You can wash it tomorrow, don't be a baby," you tease him. With a smirk, James takes the plate from you and moves it further from your reach. You frown. "And don't take the cheesecake hostage because you're angry with me."

You reach over to take another spoonful of the dessert, however James intercepts your actions as he swoops under your arm and kisses you.

You laugh into his mouth and feel James grin against your lips. He pulls away and he sounds more serious when he smiles and says, "Next time I want to celebrate just us, mm? Just like this," he kisses you again.

You smile. "That I can do. Now hand over the cheesecake now, or I swear I'll – " James interrupts you with yet another kiss, which earns him one of those giggles he loves so much.

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Yandere!Lee Minho x F!Reader TW : yandere themes ; basically a forced pregnancy ; late term pregnancy complications ; Minho is like, the worlds worst narcissist in this ; let me know if there's more ; Word Count : 6.9k A/N : The amount of research that I did for this one is crazy, but I also learned a lot so... building knowledge while writing fanfic is a plus! This request has been in my ask box for probably over a year and a half now, so... I hope that whoever requested it... I hope you enjoy! (Also, this was supposed to end WAY worse... But you all weren't ready to be sucker punched with sadness, so...) Request : Anonny : Pregnant with yandere leeknow/ yandere leeknow as dad Aaaangst

In The Beginning…

“Minho…” You called timidly from the bedroom, the way you called for him was about the same volume as when someone would talk regularly to a friend. When you spoke it was nothing more than a mouse-like whisper, always scared of what would happen if you raised your voice a little too much. Your doting boyfriend came into the bedroom, his hair tousled and wet from his shower, his eyes always seeming to carry a seductive look, dark and hungry for you at all times. “M-Minho…” You spoke his name again, this time more nervous now that he was standing in front of you. 

A chuckle built in his chest as he sauntered over to you, water wrinkled fingers that were warmer from the hot water he had been standing under, trailed across your cheek, one finger slipping under your chin to tilt your head up as he towered over you. “Mm? What do you need, darling? Are you hungry? Thirsty? I know that last night was quite… exerting for you…” He teased, and you felt your body heat up at the mention of the sinful activities you had taken part in the night before. 

“Uhm… n-no…” You stammered, blinking a few times as you seemed to lose your train of thought constantly when he was standing so close to you, looking at you as if you were a delicious meal that he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. “We… We didn’t use protection and… Usually you’d get me a… a plan B pill and… I just was wondering if you had gone and… and gotten it by now?” You were always so nervous around him, still not quite sure what made him tick. One second he was happy, or at least he seemed happy, and then the next he was going through an outburst that had you locking yourself in the bathroom until he came to the door apologizing and giving you the same spiel that he would never do it again. You hated when things got like that, you tried to avoid getting him to that point at all costs. 

“I decided you don’t need it anymore.” Minho spoke nonchalantly, as if he was the one who could make that decision for you. Your mouth opened to protest, and he stared at you, waiting for you to say something, anything that would give him a reason to lash out. It’s like he wanted a reason, he wanted to go off on you, like he enjoyed seeing you scared, enjoyed being the hypocritical hero when he comforted you after making you cry. “Think about how wonderful it would be, to have a part of me growing inside of you… you’d be mine, all mine. You’ll never leave me…” His hands moved down to your stomach, as if there was already something in there. “I’ll pick up tests in about 2 weeks, I want to be right here when you take them and read the results.”

The First Signs…

Sitting at the dining room table, the chicken still in your mouth after you had taken a bite, an awful sensation washed over you. A sort of sickness that you couldn’t fight back, and an urge to throw up that you couldn’t breathe your way through as you usually would. “Mm’scuse me…” You mumbled through the palm of your hand that was clasped over your mouth as you ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you, not even bothering to lock it as your body practically folded over the toilet. 

“Darling…” Minhos soft cooing from the other side of the door had goosebumps forming on your skin. When he cracked the door open, you could see a rather excited smile beginning to spread across his face. “Are you alright?” The juxtaposition of his expression and his words made your head reel. He looked too happy for someone who had just watched their girlfriend throw up all of their dinner. You nodded your head in response, making sure the contents of your stomach were cleared out before taking a few steps to the sink and washing your face and then rinsing your mouth out with water. “I thought you loved that chicken… Hmm, I wonder why it would make you sick all of a sudden…” 

He stepped into the bathroom fully now that you were done being ill, the nausea seeming to be completely gone now, as if it hadn’t been there at all. You knew exactly what he was insinuating, and while it might seem that way, you weren’t ready to accept that it could be what he was thinking, you didn’t want to accept it. “I think they just changed the frying oil or something…” You excused, dabbing at your lips with a bit of toilet paper before exiting the bathroom, Minho right in tow. You couldn’t be pregnant, that would make him all the possessive, all the more obsessive and overbearing. You wouldn’t be able to ever leave, not that you were able to do that now anyway, but it would be so much worse. You probably wouldn’t even be able to look at the windows without him lecturing you. No… pregnancy wasn’t an option for you. 

As you stood at the sink, getting a glass of water from the tap to wash out the taste, Minho stood behind you, his hands placed gently on your stomach. It was the softest he had ever touched you, but you knew that it wasn’t exactly for you, it was for the little demon spawn that he assumed was inside of you. “Does my baby not like the fried chicken? Hmm? Whatever you want, daddy will get it for you… As long as your mommy tells me.” How could he sound so sweet? It was gag inducing, how he pretended to be so caring when he was practically trying to hold you hostage using a potential child. 

The next days were the same, the sudden nausea not even having the common courtesy to creep up on you, instead, hitting you full force, barely allotting you enough time to run to the bathroom or the trash bin to vomit. It didn’t matter what you ate, each day at the same exact time, it was always the same. You could see the light in Minhos eyes growing brighter each time it happened, but you were in denial, and you quite liked being in that state. You didn’t want to accept that there was a very real, very high possibility that you were now carrying his spawn. “I must be coming down with something…” You mumbled, resting your head in the palm of your hand, suddenly feeling exhausted, as if you hadn’t slept in days. It was another sign, another symptom, you knew that, but you hoped that Minho would overlook it. 

“Well it has been 2 weeks, more than that actually, my darling.” The smile that he was was nothing short of sinister as he ran to the bathroom and returned with two boxes in his hands. You knew this time was coming, you had been dreading it, hoping that you would get your period at any moment now. It never came though, and you were terrified of what the tests would undoubtedly reveal once you took them. “I’m sure taking them would answer a lot of your questions… Here…” He slid the boxes across the table, but you refused to even look at them, instead staring out the window, trying your best to block out everything that he was saying. You didn’t want to be pregnant, not by him at least. How could you even be happy bringing a child into this type of lifestyle? “Darling…” He murmured the pet name softly, but rough hands suddenly gripped your chin, turning your attention to him fully. “Take the tests. Now.” 

You huffed loudly, pushing yourself away from the table and snatching the boxes up before rushing to the bathroom. You knew well enough that if you didn’t get there in time and lock the door, he’d probably try to come in and watch you take them just to make sure you weren’t fabricating the results. It would have been a good idea, but you knew he’d notice. There was no way you could just run the test under the sink water and pretend they were negative. It’s not like he’d let you go if they were anyway, he’d just keep trying and trying… and once you started showing… He’d probably be more pissed off that you lied to him. 

“You’re taking quite a while in there… Do you need help?” The question was genuine, but you glared at the door, knowing that he wouldn’t see it. It was the only time you could make those kinds of faces at him without being reprimanded for it. The tests laid on the back of the toilet seat, and much to your dismay, the second line showed up faster and darker than you ever expected it to. “Fuck!” You thought to yourself as you unlocked the bathroom door and flung it open, slipping past him as he rushed in. He was too preoccupied with being excited over the tests to focus on you, at least for right now. All you wanted to do was sleep and hopefully wake up from the nightmare that you had been living in for the last 3 years. 

The First Trimester… 

There was no bond forming. For the most part, you tried to forget that you were pregnant at all. It was easier during this stage. Other than the nausea and the exhaustion and the slight pulling and pinching sensations you’d feel in your lower back and upper thighs, all things that you could write off as any other reason, you didn’t feel pregnant. You were still in denial, you didn’t want this. Minho wanted this, and he was the only one happy about it. This was the happiest you had seen him though, he was absolutely elated, but he was also overly protective, which was becoming a real pain in the ass. 

“I can get dressed on my own.” You muttered as he sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to help you pull down your shirt after you had just put it on. “I really don’t like the hovering, it’s making me uncomfortable.” Were you allowed to be honest with him now? Would he excuse it as your hormones going crazy because of the baby? He wouldn’t yell at you, right? Not when you were in such a fragile state. He reached out further, grabbing your wrists, rather tightly, and pulled you towards him. Of course, he wouldn’t dare try to be so rough anywhere around your stomach, but everywhere else was still fair game. 

“You’re carrying my child, and as long as you are, I can hover as much as I like.” He hissed, and even though you didn’t like his tone, you were grateful that he wasn’t yelling. “I know you don’t want it. You’d probably be overjoyed if you miscarried. I won’t allow that to happen though, so just be good for me, let me help.” His expression immediately shifted, his head tilting to the side as the most innocent looking smile had his teeth flashing up at you. It was like whiplash, it made your head hurt. “So what would my babies like to eat today, hmm? Are you craving anything in particular?” He cooed, although his attention was still primarily focused on your stomach. 

Any other woman would want a man like him, a man that treated them this way and got this excited to find out they were pregnant. Any other woman could have him and all of his psychopathic tendencies. “I’m craving a nap.” You snapped, and you watched his nostrils flare out at your disobedient tone, but he didn’t say anything, instead getting off the bed and yanking the covers back for you, waiting for you to climb onto the mattress before carelessly throwing them back over your body. “Thank you.” You mumbled, rolling over onto your side so that your back was to him, tucking the covers around your chin and squeezing your eyes shut. It wasn’t just the raging hormones that tired you out, it was Minho too, him more than anything honestly. Living with him, well, no, not living, being stuck with him, was the most exhausting thing ever. 

“I’ll wake you up for your vitamins and for lunch.” He said sternly, more like a strict caregiver than the father of your unborn child. You hated him. You hated that he did this to you, that he chose you to be the object of all of his desires. Why did he choose you? He still hadn’t told you why, he just insisted that you were the one that he wanted. Now you were carrying his child, and you feared that you’d truly be stuck with him forever. What did you do to deserve that? 

The Second Trimester…

Most women would get an ultrasound at around 9 weeks. However, you had yours at 20 weeks. You didn’t go to a doctors office, instead, Minho had the doctors come to you. Even still, he didn’t want you leaving the house. Before the doctor was even allowed to see you, he had to sign an NDA, with Minhos reasoning being that he was an idol, and he didn’t want the public to know about his fiancées current condition. You still didn’t know when you had gotten engaged, but apparently it had happened at some point before the doctor's arrival. 

Seeing your baby on the screen made it impossible to deny that you truly were pregnant. It also made it hard for you to hate it as you during your entire first trimester. Was it truly the baby’s fault that their father was crazy? Did it’s fathers behavior make the baby inherently evil? No… of course it didn’t. The baby was still a part of you, and you were a good person. You wouldn’t allow your child to grow up to be like Minho. “It’s a girl.” The doctor said, pointing to the screen as if you’d understand what you were being shown, but Minho was mesmerized by what he was seeing, his jaw slacked in awe. 

“That’s my daughter… Our daughter? Really? Is she healthy?” It was Minho asking all the questions that most women in your position would be asking. You were too caught up in your own thoughts though. A baby girl, you were carrying his daughter. She’d be more like you, right? Maybe having a daughter would change the way he is, he’d become normal, a man that you could actually love and welcome having a family with. He wouldn’t want his own daughter to be with a man like himself, right? 

The doctor turned up the volume on the little tv, a rapid pulsing sound filled the room, both you and Minho were silent as you listened. “She’s healthy, very healthy.” The doctor said, smiling to both you and Minho. You were… happy. A single tear rolled down your cheek as you stared at the screen, watching the baby squirm around, and you couldn’t wait to be able to feel her moving beneath your skin. “I’ll print out the pictures and then be on my way. I’d like to make another appointment for next month though, make sure she continues growing the way she should. I also want some bloodwork from you…” He motioned towards you, and you swallowed thickly, looking at Minho who looked slightly annoyed at the doctor's pushiness. “Don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong, we just like to make sure that there’s no underlying problems. Better to be safe, right?” 

His words had you tensing up, your hands moving down to your stomach, rubbing over the small swell that had begun to form as your daughter grew bigger. “Why… Why would there be underlying problems? What could be wrong?” You squeaked out, not wanting to look up at the doctor, worried that his expression would give you a silent answer, one that you were scared to know. Minho was still, like a statue, only his eyes moving between you and the doctor, but there was no answer, just a soft sigh and a gentle tapping against your hand to try to calm you. The gesture was supposed to make you feel better, but you heard Minhos teeth gritting together. 

“It’s just precautionary. This is your first appointment since you’ve gotten pregnant. It’s to make sure both you and the baby are healthy and that there are no problems now or in the future. From what I see though, you and your daughter are perfectly fine. You have nothing to worry about.” Your hand was held lightly by the doctor who offered you a reassuring smile, but before you could thank him, Minho was, quite rudely, ushering him out of the room and shutting the door. On the other side of the door, in the hallway, you could hear Minhos aggrivated voice, low enough that you couldn’t make out what he was saying, but you could feel it, reverberating through the walls and the floorboards. He was talking so fast that the doctor didn’t have a chance to speak, and before you knew it, the front door was slammed shut and then Minho was storming back into the bedroom. 

“Touching you… Holding your hand… Who the fuck is that guy?!” Minho growled as he shut the door behind himself, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leaned against the door. “You don’t need any more fucking doctors. You were doing just fine without them. There’s nothing else we need to know anyway. Our daughter is healthy and that’s what matters. There’s no need to have some touchy ass fuckwad coming in here, looking at you… Ugh!” You could see the heat radiating off of him, he was beyond angry, he was absolutely irate, and while you didn’t want to push him any further, what the doctor had said prompted you to speak up. 

“Min… Honey…” It was an attempt to soften him up, you never called him that, not unless you were trying to get him to agree to something. Most of the time it never worked, but it at least would keep him from going off as rashly as he would without the pet name. “What if there is a… a problem… I think we both should know. We don’t need to keep him as our doctor… We can find someone else… But I think the bloodwork is important.” You sat up on the bed, trying to get a better look at him, trying to read his expression, but he was completely blank. “Minho…” You tried to get his attention, unaware that you already had it fully and he was just deep in thought. 

“No…” His hand was held out, one finger up to silence you as a chuckle was huffed out of his parted lips, his breaths coming faster and faster as he pushed himself away from the door. “I know what you’re doing. I know what this is…” The pet name didn’t work, nothing would work, he was already angry as it was and you were simply making things worse. “You want him to come back… You want him to take you away from me. That’s what you want. I know you! You’ve wanted nothing but to leave since you’ve been with me! He can’t have my fucking daughter! And he sure as hell can’t have you!” He climbed onto the bed, straddling you and holding your face between his hands. It wasn’t exactly painful, maybe you were numb to the pain it might have caused at first, but now you just found it annoying. “What do I need to do to make you stay!?” He shouted, his breath fanning across your face with every word. It’s like he was using all of the air in his lungs to enunciate every syllable. 

“Minho, stop it.” You whispered, knowing that the wrong word, a wrong look, saying it in a way that he didn’t like, it would only have him spiraling deeper and he’d drag you right along with him. “Please… h-honey look at me… I’m not trying to leave you… I just want to know that me and the baby are healthy, that there’s nothing wrong. I don’t want anything to happen to either of us… I want her… Honey, I want a family with you…” Sure, you were really sugarcoating it to try to get him to calm down, but you also really needed to know that everything would be okay. The last thing you wanted was for something to happen to you and him blame your daughter for the rest of his life or vice versa. 

His hands dropped down to your shoulders, his body now shuddering, although you didn’t know if it was because he was about to cry or if he was just shaking with anger. It was always hard to gauge his reactions or how he was truly feeling. It had you on edge all the time, and you felt like a tiny rodent, cornered by a feral cat. “Nothing is going to happen to either of you…” He mumbled, his head hung low, his hair curtaining his face. “Stupid fucking doctor, putting that shit in your head, scaring my darling…” This wasn’t what you wanted, his anger once again shifted towards the doctor who was just trying to do his job. “Do you really think I’d let anything happen to you and our baby?” You shook your head, of course he wouldn’t let something happen to either of you, not because he cared, but because he couldn’t fathom the thought of not owning you anymore. “You’ll be just fine, darling. You’re overthinking what that jackass said.” And with that, it’s like all of the anger washed away, a sudden wave of calmness rinsing him clean of the negativity. “Let’s get something to eat. My girls are hungry, aren’t they?” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before shifting off of you and off of the bed, grabbing your hand and carefully helping you up to your feet. The sudden shift had you feeling dizzy, but it was welcome, at least he wasn’t yelling at you. 

The Third Trimester… 

Something was wrong, although you weren’t sure what it was. The ongoing nausea, the headaches, the blurred vision, you knew there was a problem. All you could think of was the argument that you had almost 15 weeks ago, wanting to at least have bloodwork done to make sure you were okay, but of course Minho had denied you of the simple procedure. If anything happened to you, it would be his fault, but he wouldn’t look at it that way, no, it would be someone else’s fault, it always was whenever he fucked up. 

“Someone’s tired…” He whispered when he walked into the bedroom where you were still laying. It’s not that you were actually that tired, you just couldn’t move without feeling sick. When he pulled open the curtains, you squeezed your eyes shut, groaning loudly as the bright sun only amplified the raging headache you were already suffering through. “Sorry, darling. Can’t lay in bed all day. Gotta get you up and moving. Come on.” He yanked the covers back and his eyes landed on your feet which had become so swollen you could barely even fit them in your slippers anymore. “What happened?” He whispered, although there was a slight panic in his voice as he gently grabbed your ankle and lifted it, looking over the extremity for any signs of injury. 

“I think… I think…” You kept starting the sentence only to be left practically winded after only saying two words. “Problem…” You settled for one word, hoping that it would get your point across and that he’d take some kind of action. He blinked a few times, backing away from the bed, his hands running through his hair as he seemed to be fighting an internal battle with himself. “Please…” You pleaded, your hands cradling your swollen stomach. If not to help you, at least to help your baby who he seemed to want more than anything. 

“Shut… Shut up! I’m thinking!” He screeched, suddenly pacing back and forth as his breaths came out sharply, sounding more like whistles as they came through pursed lips. “Why would you let this happen! What even… God dammit!” He shouted, his fist colliding with the wall in an act of frustration, and even though he was fully across the room, you jumped at the sudden act of violence. He would never hit you, no matter how mad he got he had never actually hit you, but when things got this bad, you always feared just how far he would go or how far gone he was. “What am I supposed to do?! Take you to the hospital?!” 

Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what he was supposed to do to keep both you and your daughter from potentially dying. “If I could just… have her… get her out… we could be… okay…” You said breathlessly, and he whipped around in your direction, his eyes wild and crazed. It truly seemed like he was losing his mind. “Min… I don’t want t-… to die… please…” You begged, the sudden onslaught of tears only making it harder to breathe. 

“Fuck! You think I want you to die!? You think I want that!?” He questioned, and soon his hands were back in his hair, tugging at the ends as he let out a loud scream. “This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it! It’s what you wanted to happen! You wanted to leave me so bad! You’d rather die than be with me!” He was once again blaming you, yelling at you for something that you didn’t even understand at the moment. You didn’t know what was happening, so why the hell was he attacking you for it? “Such a fucking bitch! God! Fuck! Get up!” You were being… belittled… insulted… cursed at for… dying? At least if you did die, you wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore. You wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. But did you really want to leave your poor baby with someone like him? 

Getting up was a daunting task, it took you longer than it usually would just to swing your legs over the side of the bed. Every small movement made you feel like you had run a marathon, your breaths becoming more labored, your vision becoming spotty, and the urge to vomit became more of an oncoming threat as the bile from your otherwise empty stomach rose to your throat. There was no time to get to the bathroom, you weren’t even on your feet yet, and before you had any time to even warn Minho, you were doubled over, heaving up the acid that burned your throat on its way out. He watched, not coming close or helping you, but he watched, his lips parted and his eyes blinking rapidly as if what he was seeing wasn’t true. “Sorry…” The word was spoken in a single raspy breath, your head hung low with both shame, embarrassment, and pain. Your throat was scratchy now, and it felt like fire was being held against the back of it. Tears pricked your eyes and snot ran down your nose, stopping at your upper lip, and you didn’t even have the energy to wipe that away. 

“What happened…?” He asked, his voice once again soft, laced with the false tone of worry. It used to make you think he cared, but now you knew it was an act. It was all an act. “Let’s… Let’s go…” He said, his voice wavering. He truly didn’t know what to do, but he knew that he didn’t want to do this. It’s not like he had a choice though. You looked awful, like you were already standing at death's door, and that terrified him. He had seen you sick before, but he had never seen you like this. “C-Can you walk? Do you need… Uhm… Shit…” He was tripping over his words, but when he saw you try to get up on your own, he rushed over, his arm wrapping around you. 

Looking at you this close, he could see that your face was swollen too, and beads of sweat lingered on your forehead. “She hasn’t moved… Min… I’m- I’m scared…” You whimpered, and he pulled you closer to him, letting your body fall against his side, trying to take all of your weight as he walked you towards the front door. “Min…” You breathed out his name, your head falling against his shoulder. He hummed to let you know he heard you, grabbing everything he needed with one hand as he walked through your shared apartment. “If you have… to save any of us… save her… save the baby…” You wheezed, all of your weight falling against him, everything that he had been carrying was dropped immediately to catch you. 

“No… no no no! Stop talking like that! Stop it!” Minho shouted, his voice trembling from the sobs he tried to hold back. “I’m not losing either of you, dammit! I-…” He sniffled softly, and while your eyes had been closed the entire time, trying to block out the light that shone through the window in the living room, you could feel his eyes on you. “I love you… You know that, don’t you? I’m not… If anything happens…” The thought was stopped before he could get the words out, but you were stuck on the three words he had said prior. Love was such a strong emotion, you hadn’t felt loved the entire time you had been with him, and he had never said it before now either. Did the thought of you being gone forever make him change? If you did make it through, would he go back to the way he was before? Maybe death was the only escape… 

I’ll Make You Stay… 

There was no way the doctors would make him choose… It couldn’t be that serious. You were absolutely fine, right? He hadn’t noticed anything wrong until today… or were you just that good at hiding things from him? Why would you hide something like this from him? Were you afraid of him? Why were you scared of his love? He just loves you so much! What’s wrong with that? He wanted you to be with him forever, he wanted you to be his darling, why did you make it seem like that was so awful? He’d show you that you could be happy, that he could make you happy, you just had to stay with him, you had to stay. 

“Why can’t I go in?” Minho asked once again to the nurse who slipped out of the room. Each time he said it he was more irritated than the last. He just didn’t understand. What could be so wrong that he couldn’t be there for the birth of his daughter? Every time, the nurse would just sigh, getting more agitated with him. “I’ll just go in then. You can’t keep me from seeing her. That’s my wife, that’s my daughter! If you won’t tell me what’s going on then I’ll just-“ 

The nurse cleared her throat, although it sounded more like she was groaning. He tried not to let it bother him the way it usually would. He had far better, far more important things to worry about than the bitchy attitude of the nurse. “She didn’t want me to tell you. I’m trying to respect her wishes. She wanted to be alone.” The nurse explained, but it only stirred up more questions in Minhos now overactive mind. What was the reason behind you wanting to go through this alone? Did he not have a say in being able to watch his daughter be born? It was unfair, and once everything was over with, he’d be having a talk with you about how rude and humiliating it was for him to sit out in the hallway while you were delivering his child. He opened his mouth, not even to speak, just to breathe, and the nurse started talking, as if she assumed he was just going to continue complaining. “Both of them are not well. The last thing I wanted to do was go against what could possibly be her last wish. Are you understanding now, sir?” 

Your… last wish? It sounded like you were dying… It couldn’t possibly be that bad… Is it? Why would you want to be alone during a time like this? How could you leave him this way? Do you not even care about his feelings? It’s like you want to make him miserable! All he wanted was to have a family with you, to make you stay with him forever, and now you’re trying to get away by dying!? You were so selfish! Why couldn’t you just be healthy?! He had done everything right. He made sure you ate and had your vitamins and did daily exercises and that you always got enough sleep. If anything happens to you and the baby… It would be your fault! It would all be your fault! 

“An early blood test would have shown that this was a possibility. It would have potentially kept this from happening. If she was getting proper appointments, this would have been caught before it got this bad. Who was her OB?” The nurse asked, her clipboard resting against her forearm, her pen held in her other hand, as if she was waiting for the information to jot down. The mention of your doctor had his mind pausing for a split second… This is why you needed the bloodwork done? Why had no one told him that back then? Why was he not informed of the risks that would come along if the bloodwork wasn’t done? This still wasn’t his fault though… No, the doctor should have talked to you and him more about the benefits of getting early bloodwork done. 

It was the doctors fault… If he hadn’t been so touchy with you, it wouldn’t have been such a big deal for him to come back and do the bloodwork. It was all the doctors fault, and if something were to happen to you or the baby… Minho would make sure that the doctor paid for it. He told the nurse the doctor's name, trying not to let his smile break through the mask of sadness that he was wearing, but it was hard. The thought of getting that guy to potentially lose his job, it was nice, and he couldn’t help but feel a little… overjoyed, knowing that if anything were to happen to you and the baby, it wouldn’t be in vain, at least the doctor will suffer as well. “I guess I’ll… wait out here…” He said, the frown once again returning to his face as he dropped down into the chair beside your door. It was still hard not being in there with you, knowing that so many people were looking at you, touching you… He felt like he was going to lose his mind, and the only way that he was keeping himself slightly sane was by constantly telling himself that he could potentially lose you and his daughter if those doctors didn’t help you. 

He was in and out of sleep the whole time, his head falling against the wall and his eyes drooping shut, only for them to shoot back open whenever an alarm would go off, looking up at the light above your door to make sure it wasn’t for your room before drifting back to sleep once more when he realized it wasn’t. It had been hours, he finally stopped counting after the seventh, when the door finally opened and one of the nurses, different from the one before, walked out. There were dark circles under her eyes, she looked frazzled and exhausted, but there was no urgency, there was no sadness… Was everything okay? Would he be able to keep you and his daughter? “Sir…” She started, and Minho sat up straight, his eyes hopeful as he looked up at the nurse. “I don’t want to sugarcoat anything, I don’t want you to get excited just yet… Although your wife and the baby are… alive… That doesn’t mean that things are… okay.” It was like all of the hope was drained from his body immediately, even after hearing that you were alive… How could you still not be okay? 

“Well… what’s wrong? What happened? I mean… I need some information here!” He was trying not to get worked up, but the way the nurse seemed to be beating around the bush was highly aggravating. For Christ's sake, he’s your boyfriend, the father of the child, and she was talking to him like he was some nobody. He deserves… No, he needs to know what happened! “How is she not okay? Is the baby okay? Come on, tell me something, dammit!” He didn’t care if she was tired, or if she was emotionally worn out after helping you. That’s her damn job, and part of it is telling him what the hell is going on. 

She sighed loudly, clearly not happy with the way that Minho was talking to her, but he didn’t really care for that either. He wasn’t even allowed in the damn room, the least she could do was tell him what had gone on while he was locked out in the hallway. “The mother had preeclampsia which advanced to class one HELLP, which I will not go into full detail about, a simple google search will tell you what it is, but I will say that she had the most severe case of HELLP that I have ever seen in my years of working here. We were at a point where we worried that we would have to choose whether she lived or the baby lived. She had to have blood transfusions before we could even deliver the baby, she was in the early stages of kidney failure, and while we were in the process of trying to help the mother, the baby went into respiratory distress. We had to do an emergency c-section, which wasn’t easy because we were worried about hemorrhaging, which did in fact happen. The baby is currently in the NICU, she is underweight, we have to do tests to check her platelet count, she’ll most likely be in the NICU for a couple of weeks, and that’s minimum, especially if her platelets aren’t normal. The mother needs to stay because we have to make sure she doesn’t have any other underlying health issues, and we need to monitor her closely because the first couple days after delivering a baby with HELLP syndrome could be fatal. So yes, the mother and the baby are alive… But they are in no way, shape or form, okay or healthy enough to come home anytime soon. Does that answer your questions, sir?” 

Minho didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know where to start. He didn’t understand anything that had been said to him, all he knew was that it was bad and that you wouldn’t be going home with him. How could you let things get this bad? Why didn’t you tell him? Surely you must have felt ill or something when this was all going on? And that damn doctor… Why did he have to touch you? Why did he have to make him so angry? If he had just been a normal doctor, he would have been allowed to come back and do your bloodwork. This all could have been avoided! It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t! How was he supposed to know that something like this could happen?! He had never read anything about this online! He didn’t know something like this could happen! It wasn’t his fault! 

“Anyway…” The nurse spoke once more, taking Minhos silence as an opening. “She’s resting, they both are. There’s going to be doctors in and out of the room constantly, so, if you’d like to go in there, you can, but I wouldn’t expect to get any rest. If I were you, I’d honestly just go home, get some sleep, and come back in the afternoon. They’re not going anywhere, it’s going to be a long road ahead of the both of them… And you need to get as much rest as possible to prepare for it.” And with that, she walked away. He was left alone in the hallway with his thoughts, the faint sound of a heart monitor beeping just beyond the closed door to your room was the only sound he could really focus on. 

You were alive… You had stayed… You weren’t leaving him. He would have his family, and he would have it with you, his perfect darling. Nothing like this would ever happen again, he had his baby girl, and he had you. The two of you were all he needed. Once he had you and his baby back home, he’d make sure he never had to let you out of his sight again. You were going to stay with him, he would make you stay. That’s why he wanted the baby in the first place, and in the end, he still got exactly what he wanted. 

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[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 11

part 1 | part 10 | ao3

cw: period-typical homophobic language, explicit sexual content (if you are under 18 then kindly GO ON NYOW GIT come back when you grow your first gray pube)

It feels crazy, after all that, to just get up and face the day. Feels like last Fall all over again: he’s concussed in the back of class getting bagel crumbs on a worksheet with his face still pulverized. There’s a gross pang in his chest as he goes about his morning routine, his heart all squishy and bruised like some dickhead smashed a plate over it, but whatever, he guesses. Public education and minimum wage wait for no one.

Robin grills him the whole car ride: “Oh, my god, is he okay?? Is he alive? Is your mom okay? What the hell, Steve?” and he lets her ramble with wide, worried eyes; doesn’t even get to the part about Eddie. When they pull up to the school she gets out of the car and comes around to his side, knocks on his window and leans in when he rolls it down to give him a ridiculously long hug.

"Robinnn," he grumbles; his face is mashed against her boobs. "People are gonna think we're dating."

She bends to hug him tighter still, her bony ass hanging out his window where the whole school can see. "I'd date you in a second."

"You've literally said that you wouldn't."

"Platonically, I would!!"

She gives him one last squeeze, and he watches her waddle off, trumpet case awkwardly smacking her calves.

And then he just... goes to work. He goes to stand around a nearly empty store and pretend like he even has any work to do, restocks the already full displays of candy and buffs the countertops until they shine. Three hours in and he's run out of ways to look busy and Keith is “doing admin stuff” in the back, so he gives his mom a call. Makes sure she's okay; did she eat anything yet; any updates on Ernie?

She’s fine, she's not hungry, he's alive but that's all they know for now, her tone distantly polite like Steve's nothing more than a friendly cold caller.

He shoves his fingers in his eyes ’til he sees stars when they hang up.

He calls the Henderson house next, leaves a message to apologize for skipping out early, promises that he'll be there next Wednesday and he can bring dessert this time. There’s a lunch rush after that, but the day still drags like a bad hangover, a dull throbbing in his bones, and when he finally gets home he collapses onto his bed and passes out on top of the covers with his dumb work vest still on.

—

Eddie's acting weird.

Steve sees him again on Friday, spots him and his uncle having a smoke out on the porch and wanders over to say hello. Wayne seems happy enough to chat; gives him all the news on Ernie — "Bastard's unkillable," he says, almost impressed. He’s stable now, should be home any day.

Eddie, on the other hand, spends the entire interaction behaving like a skittish cat, eyes darting to and from Steve, leg jiggling as he quietly puffs his cig.

Steve half expects him to slink off and come back to drop a dead mouse at his feet.

He feels his brows knit together, agitation creeping in. It's not like he thought they'd be best friends after a single night of ceasefire or anything — as if they'd start braiding each other's hair and trading their deepest, darkest secrets or whatever queer shit — but like…

He thought they might be cool now. At least a little bit.

And Eddie's not being rude to him, exactly, but that's somehow even worse. The polite disinterest. The subtle shift to the left. Back and away.

“Okay, well, uh...” Steve glances at Eddie, who's looking anywhere but him. Fucking fascinated by a loose thread on his ripped jeans, apparently, plucking at it with anxious fingers. “See ya around, I guess?”

Wayne says not be a stranger, and Eddie gives him a quick nod. “See ya.”

Steve grinds his teeth about it for the rest of the afternoon, then decides, like, screw this. It's a Friday night; he's not sitting around sulking all evening because Eddie Munson hurt his feelings.

He calls up a girl — some pretty blonde chick he remembers from the cheer squad — and sets up a date for later that night. Takes her to the drive-in, buys her a vanilla shake. The date's fine; it's good; it's fine. She's pretty enough, and she offers to suck him off when the main feature starts.

It’s not a good blowjob. Arguably one of the worst ones Steve’s had, and he’s had quite a few. She keeps gagging herself with these gross squelching sounds, barely getting even half of his dick in her tiny mouth and not bothering to use her hands to make up the difference. Just leaves them resting on Steve’s thighs while she makes fake whimpering moans like she’s sooo turned on by this; fucking as if; and somewhere in the middle of her repetitive, sloppy bobbing his mind starts to wander off. To the trailer, to the lot fees, the fucking pharmacy bills. Their ever-dwindling savings and what percentage of them he just wasted on this lackluster movie night; surely they’re gonna run out any day now; tick tock, tick tock.

"Um," the girl squeaks as she pulls off with a gross slurp. Steve looks down at his lap, sees he's gone soft. "Am I, like, doing something wrong, or...?"

Her voice is high and quiet, innocent and sweet, and Steve feels like an asshole. He squeezes himself at the base, gives a few quick strokes to get himself up again. "No, you're perfect, honey," he lies. "Stick out your tongue for me?"

She bats her eyes demurely and rolls over onto her side, gives him some kind of sexy pout before opening her mouth so he can jerk off over her. Steve works his wrist; tries not to be rude and look away, but her colors are all wrong. Strawberry hair. Blue irises. He squeezes his eyes shut, moves his hand faster and thinks of dark brown. Dark hair, dark lashes, dark eyes like the deep woods. Endless. Sort of mesmerizing. Nancy? "Oh, fuck," he gasps as he comes.

The girl squeals and jerks away from him, hands flying to her face. "Oh, my god! Oh, my god! You got it in my nose!"

"Sorry,” Steve grunts, shuddering through an aftershock. There’s cum on his hand, on his pants; all over this poor girl’s face. He thinks he got some in her eyelashes. "Shit, sorry, let me, uh—"

He leans over and rifles through the glove box, trying to find a napkin for her. No dice. Best he can do is an old McDonald's wrapper with a grease stain on the side. "Here, does— does this work?"

“Ew!”

“Sorry, I mean it’s that or my shirt, but then I’d have to drive you home shirtless, so-”

“Ugh,” she gives him a bitchy look. Tries to, anyway. One eye is glued shut. “Just give me that, please.”

His limp, spitty cock is still hanging from his pants when he passes her the wrapper. Flaccid and sad, like a white flag of surrender, and a bubble of hysterical laughter slips out. A choked burst of it, a pufferfished pfffft as it explodes past his lips. He’s not sure if it's the orgasm or the ridiculousness of the situation or if he's just plain lost his mind, but the girl glares at him, which...

There's still a glob of jizz on her cheek, so it doesn’t help matters much.

"I think you should take me home."

"Y-yep. Sorry. Yeah."

“Like now.”

Steve tucks himself into his jeans.

—

part 12

tagging whoever commented yesterday if your settings will let me @slutforcoffein @annabanannabeth @rani-mayida @awolfstudio @noodle-shenaniganery @yourmom-isgay @zombiecreatures @anne-bennett-cosplayer @thestarslittleking @evillittleguy @acedorerryn @messrs-weasley @bronwenmarie @lololol-1234 @estrellami-1 @jaytriesstuff @space-invading-pigeon @violetsteve @ahsokatanoss @slowandsteddie @zoeweee @silver-snaffles @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @thealwithnoname @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @hellion-child @stevesbipanic @trensu @steves-strapcollection @hotluncheddie

[snoopyearss]

Here. Eren Yeager x F. Reader

content warning: suggestive!

Summary: Y/n isn't a party person. That’s not her scene. All she wants to do is stay in her dormroom and listen to slowed and reverbed songs and watch gaming videos on youtube. When her extroverted friends convince her to go to a house party, she’s forced to talk to people she normally doesn't talk to. When she goes to the car for some peace and quiet, someone, one of the most popular playboys at the university by the name of Eren Yeager, decides to keep her company. What could go wrong?

We're bringing back the 2020-2021 anime fanfictions vibes with this one. Alll the stereotypes of a college au fic is in this so spare me the bitching and complaining and just enjoyyyyy

Chapter 1: To Marley's

Your POV

I unlocked the door to my shared dorm with my roommates Hitch and Sasha. The three of us are inseparable, but if there’s a party happening at that very moment, they won’t hesitate to leave me.

No hard feelings though. I don’t like parties. Lame I know, but I can’t stand the idea of everyone in a small room, sweaty, and grinding on each other. Blech. But I digress. I walked into the kitchen and greeted Sasha, who was munching on some chips.

“You’re getting crumbs all over the floor. You know this university housing has a mouse problem.” I groaned. “Yeah, yeah I’ll clean it up. Later. How was class?”

“Fucking long. Nothing new. Professor Hange was talking for HOURS. I love her but geez the lady has energy.” Sasha laughed. “Keeps me awake though. Good thing it’s Friday. You get a break and maaybee, come party with us?” She slipped in.

“You’re not gonna get me to go to a party with you Sash. It’s not happening. I don’t do that.” I opened the cupboard to grab the last pack of pop tarts.

“Ugh come onnn!” She pleaded. “You’re always in that damn room. That’s all you do. For once, come out and have some fun! When's the last time you had se-”

“We aren’t doing this right now. Plus I got homework.” I broke a piece of the cookies and cream pop tart and put it in my mouth. “And that shit won’t be due until next Tuesday. What do you even plan to do anyways?” Sasha cleaned up the crumbs from the kitchen table.

“Well I’m gonna-”

“Wait, don't tell me. You're gonna put your LED lights on, listen to the same 5 slowed songs and watch gaming videos. I’m right, aren't I?” Sasha interrupted. “Well, I found one more song so make that 6. So you're wrong.” I stuck my tongue out at her.

“Hopeless. But I guess that makes you happy. Talk later?” She said while getting out of her seat. I nodded “I’ll get Hitch to persuade you.” She whispered as she walked to her room and closed the door.

“And you still didn’t clean these crumbs off the floor! I don’t want mice!” I yelled then got up to do it since I knew she wasn’t going to do it herself.

₊˚✩彡.

Pussy Poppers

Sasha

You guys wanna go to

That new restaurant that

Opened down the street

From the campus for dinner?

Hitch

ooohhhh

yes. i heard their burgers

were really good!

Y/N Loved “You guys wanna go to that new restaurant that opened down the street from the campus for dinner?”

Y/N

Yeah, let's go!

Sasha

Yaaaayy!

:))))

I locked my phone and put it on the charger and got ready. I put on some music and opened my closet. “I have all these pieces, but not an actual outfit.” I said to myself. Remind me to go shopping. After sometime I managed to get an outfit together then went to do my hair and makeup. I heard a knock on my bedroom door.

“Hey Y/n you got a- here you go with the same slowed and reverbed songs on repeat.” Hitch teased me. “You hating and for what ma’am?” I rolled my eyes.

“Anyways you got a tampon? I ran out.”

“Yeah, in the small drawer next to my desk.” She thanked me and walked out. As soon as I finished, I put on some shoes and walked out of my bedroom to see Sasha munching on the same chips.

“We’re going out to eat, why are you eating now?” Hitch questioned her. “Because I’m hungry? What the fuck?” Hitch snatched the bag from her hands.

“Let's go. And when we get back, clean up this mess please Sasha I’m begging. I don’t want Remy and his friends trying to steal ingredients from our kitchen.” Sasha laughed at Hitch’s joke and got up to put her shoes on.

“They're probably gonna show up as soon as we close this door.” I added and the two laughed. I let the both of them leave before me, as I closed the door and locked it.

We all got into Sasha’s car as we drove to the restaurant. “What’s this restaurant called by the way?” I asked. “I think it’s called Marley’s or something I’m not sure.” Hitch answered and I nodded.

“Y/n, you want aux?” Sasha turned off the bluetooth on her phone so I could connect.

“You're not scared I’ll put on the same slowed songs like I do in my dorm?” I said and they laughed. “Nah. You got good taste.” I went on spotify and put on a song from my playlist.

(Play Borderline by Tame Impala)

“Ooh! I love this song! Sash, turn it up!” Hitch squealed. Sasha indeed turned it up, and rolled the windows down.

It was a cool summer’s night. The wind blew through my hair and on my skin causing little goosebumps. I looked out the window. I watched as the sun went down behind the buildings and tall trees, as the sky became a soft blue and pink cotton candy color. I looked at the mirror on the side of the car, watching Hitch dance in her seat with her eyes closed, feeling the beat. I smiled and turned to look at the sky.

I lived for moments like these. Especially with my friends. Sasha and Hitch mean so much to me. Hitch and I were mutuals on twitter since we shared the same interests. I would like the tweets she wrote and she would retweet mine. Next thing you know we were texting in direct messages. We had facetimed on so many occasions so I knew what she looked like. We wanted to meet up in person and to our surprise, we only lived an hour away from each other. Thus, blossoming our friendship.

I met Sasha through Hitch as well. We both shared our love for food and that's how it started. I love them with all my being.

The song ended and we were coming close to the restaurant. It was PACKED. It wasn't a surprise, I mean, it just opened and it was right near our campus. Sash managed to find a parking spot and we all hopped out. “I can smell the food from here! It’s like I can almost taste it...” She drooled, Hitch shook her head at her. “Your love for food is so scary sometimes.” I joked.

We headed inside, Hitch asking for a table for three and insisting we get a booth seat or else she won't eat. I jokingly rolled my eyes. The waiter did in fact, give us a booth, and we took our seats.

Sasha looked at the menu. “This all looks so good! Ugh I can’t decide! What are you getting Y/n?” She raised her head to look at me. “Hmm. I’m not sure. Can never go wrong with wings and fries. But knowing me I might just get chicken tenders and fries.” I chuckled. “What about you Hitch?”

“Might get this flatbread pizza, the description is convincing me.” I nodded.

Our waiter showed up to take your orders. “Hello, welcome to Marley’s, I’m your waiter Marlowe, Can I get you guys started with some drinks?” We all told him. I turned next to me to see Hitch’s face bright red. Her head was down, looking at her hands placed on her lap, lips formed into a straight line.

“Uh oh. I know that look. You like him, don’t you?” Sasha teased and I laughed. “S-shut up no I don’t!” She stammered out. Causing Sasha to laugh harder. “Oh? Lie one more time.” I teased.

“He..he has a nice face. I guess” She grumbled. Causing Sasha and I to laugh again

After some time, Marlowe came back with our drinks and took our orders for our meals. Sasha of course, ordering more than one entree. One for now, and one for later.

During that time, we talked about our first week of classes and how college life was treating us, then two boys walked up to our table. “Ayo, is that Sasha and Hitch?” The taller boy said. His hair was in a mullet style, and had stubble on his chin and jawline. The other boy had a buzzcut hairstyle. His eyes were big and bold. Both of them were extremely attractive. Everyone here knew each other. Sasha told me they all grew up together. I transferred here so they were all new to me.

“Jean! Connie! Hiii! I haven’t seen you guys in foreverrr!” Sasha got up from her seat to hug them both and they hugged back. “We saw each other last week, when we went to the beach dummy.” Connie laughed. “What’s up you two?” Hitch also gave them hugs.

Well this is awkward. I’m just sitting here.

“This is our friend, Y/n. She’s new to the area.” Hitch introduced me. I gave a smile and waved.

“Woah,” Connie started. “Yeah woah. She’s bad.” Jean finished. I sheepishly smiled.

“I’m Jean, and that bald fuck over there, is Connie.” He introduced both of them, causing Connie to smack Jean’s head.

“Nice to meet you.”

“So, the school year started, meaning summer is ending. Which meansss…” Jean trailed. “End of the Summer party! At the frat house! Next Friday. Please tell me you guys are coming?” Connie finished.

“You know we’ll be there. Y/n too. Right?” Sasha eyed me. I rolled my eyes. I knew she would pull this shit.

“Nah.” I sighed.

“Aww c’mon. It’ll be fun! It’s the perfect way to start off the school year.” Connie beamed.

“How exactly? By getting drunk until you feel insanely sick, just to throw up everywhere, and feel like shit the next day? Yeah I’m good. Y’all be easy.” I ranted.

“So sitting in your bed, watching Corey Kenshin and Berleezy is your idea of a ‘good time’?” Hitch taunted you and laughed.

“Hey, they’re funny ok! And yes it IS my idea of a good time!” I scoffed.

“I mean, she does have a point. They are pretty funny.” Connie said. “See, thank you!”

“But seriously Y/n come onnn. Just come with us for a few, and if you don’t like it, we’ll go home.”

“This is mass manipulation! I feel attacked!” I joked. “Ugh, fine. Don’t make me regret this.” I sighed and gave in. They all cheered and I rolled my eyes. “Yes! Omg. You’re going to have so much fun! We gotta go shopping tomorrow.” Hitch squealed.

“It’s not until next friday? You guys have like a whole week.” Connie asked. “Stay outta women’s business.” Hitch snapped. Connie raised his hands in defense.

“No we should. I need new clothes anyways.” I shrugged and both girls jumped up in excitement.

“Ok, here are your meals. Oh! Hey Connie. Jean.” Marlowe placed the meals on the table, dapping the two boys up. “What’s up man? How’s the new job treating you?” Jean asked. “It’s great. I’m able to serve so many gorgeous girls.” he eyed Hitch, making her face turn red again. Sasha and I snickered. “Say Marlowe, you going to the End of the Summer party next Friday?” Sasha questioned.

“Yeah I’ll be there. You guys going?” We all nodded. He smiled. “Great. Then I’ll see you guys there. I’m on the clock so I’ll talk to you guys later.” We waved and he left.

“Alright, you two, leave. I’m hungry and I want to eat.” Sasha ordered the two boys.

“See you girls on Friday. Y/n, I hope to see you there.” Jean smirked. “No promises!”

They walked back to their table and we got to eating.

₊˚✩彡.

After we ate our meals and Sasha paid for the bill, we all filed in her car and went home.

I unlocked the door to our flat and kicked off my shoes. Hitch handed Sasha a broom and Sasha sweeped up the crumbs from earlier.

“I can’t believe we managed to convince Y/n to come party with us.” Hitch said in awe. “Yeah me neither.” I grumbled.

“You’ll have so much fun Y/n. I promise. This is like one of the biggest parties of the year. Jean, Connie, and Eren throw one every year. They’re legendary.” Sasha said as she sweeped.

I frowned. “Who’s Eren?”

Hitch cleaned the dishes that were in the sink. “Another one of our friends. He’s pretty chill. Just don’t piss him off. He can get kinda mean.”

“He’s also like a major playboy. Slept with almost every girl at our highschool and possibly here too.” Sasha placed the crumbs in the trash can. “He’ll see you as some kind of new prey so don’t let him get under your skin. And don’t get attached. He doesn’t do relationships.” She warned.

“Good to know. And now what does he look like so I can avoid this walking STD?” I questioned.

“Tall, long brown hair, usually had it in a man bun. Green eyes, has a brow piercing and some ear piercings as well. He also wears a key necklace.” Hitch described him.

He sounds kinda hot…

“And I know you’re thinking “He sounds kinda hot.” Don’t fall for it.” She warned once more.

“I wasn’t!” I scoffed. “Uh huh. Just be careful ok?” I nodded. Not like I was gonna make a pass at him or something. I’m not exactly boy-crazy.

“Now we got that outta the way. Wanna watch a movie?” Hitch asked.

“Sure!” Sasha and I said.

˖◛⁺⑅♡

I started writing this in 2021, after reading every eren college au I could find on wattpad.

[xxxdreamscapexxx]

Even in darkness there is light

Holy mother of fanfic writing! You have given me thoughts! So many in fact that I started responding, but it ended up so long that I had to turn it into a post, because Tumblr wouldn’t let me finish it. I hope it’s what you hoped for, Nonny! Pairing: Prisoner Wanda Maximoff x Framed and imprisoned Fem!Reader Word count:2k Warning: NSFW, 18+, lesbian relationship, oral, fingering, masturbation, somnophilia, dub con / non con, some dark themes, feelings of sadness, as you might imagine, being in prison is not easy, top!Wanda, Bottom!Reader   Summary: Just my vision of how this relationship could progress.

The day you arrive, she pretends to ignore you, not wanting a cellmate, or a friend, but you follow her around like a lost puppy, since she's the only other person you've met in there, sitting at a respectful distance, but always near her.   

When you try to talk to her, she doesn't say much, but she listens to your rantings about being framed and she lets you, because despite being such a weak little mouse, you're pretty and she likes the sound of your voice. In the next weeks, she grows to know you, while you know almost nothing about her. Despite her reluctance to open up, though, she's always nice to you, in her own way.

She can see that you're scared to go out of the cell and avoid it whenever possible, crying in your bunk for hours. Any loud noise startles you and whenever you're forced to go out of your cell for food or a shower, any interaction with the "tougher" prisoners triggers you, often scurrying to run away, even if it means going hungry.

Wanda likes you much better when you're asleep. That's how she takes to watching you, after you've exhausted yourself from crying. So pretty and so innocent and almost peaceful, if it wasn't for the fresh tear tracks still visible on your face. But she doesn't mind those. Eventually they just become part of the fantasy.

And her fantasies start to feature you more and more often, until one night, while she watches you, she hears you let out a small little mewl and it triggers something inside her. Something primal and rather macabre, but she doesn't care. She crawls into the small space of your bunk, making sure not to wake you, because then she'd have to get rough with you and she doesn't want to just yet. She just wants to play with you a little. She feels you up through the clothes, pleasantly surprised to feel a nice, firm body underneath. You probably went to some yoga / pitales / zumba bullshit workout while you were still out, but she couldn't care less. You were nice and warm, the curve of your ass pressing into her crotch and turning her on desperately.

Knowing she can't taste you just yet, she settles for licking your cheek, tasting the saltiness of your tears and humming at how delicious you are, even in your sadness.

This new development has her warming up to you. She starts to sit next to you during meals and she gives warning glares to any of the other inmates, who try to pick on you for whatever reason. She sometimes even leaves you her dessert, knowing you like sweets and she watches you eat the treat with an unreadable face, but internally, she's elated.

She comes with you to the showers every day, not wanting anyone to bother you, or to look at your naked body, and even though the first few times you're shy, you quickly grow used to it. Her real reason however is that she likes watching you. You shower like you're not into a prison, surrounded by people. You always look your calmest while you're under the warm water and you tell her so much about yourself while you just stand under the stream, that she can't help but open up and starts to share a little about herself too and you start to bond.

Within a few nights Wanda grows bolder, her hands sneaking into your uniform and cupping your bare breasts, pinching the nipples and coaxing out soft little moans from you. She sneaks into the pants next, moving past the underwear and finding you nice and wet for her. Fuck! She wants to shove her fingers into your wet little pussy, imagining how tight you'll be around her, but she knows that will wake you and she settles for teasing your clit and practically edging you instead, her free hand working her own needy cunt, until she can cum.

Her nocturnal fun always has you waking to a mess in your underwear and she starts to notice that the longing looks you still give her are now laced with desire, but you're too shy to say something, or to take care of it yourself, scared that she'll walk in and see you, but it gets harder to deny that you want her.

Eventually, that becomes her nightly routine, until one particular night, when she loses herself in her pleasure and she pulls down your pants entirely and starts to rub her own pussy against you. It turns her on so much to be able to use you, instead of her hand that she lets a loud moan slip and she wakes you, startling you into consciousness.

She has to wrestle you, pinning you to the bed with one hand, while the other is firmly clasped on your mouth, so you wouldn't scream. "Hush, little mouse, it's just me." She whispers softly and you start to relax, until you realize the position you're in. She's on top of you, your bottom half naked and exposed to the cool air, and so is she. You can feel her wet pussy against your thigh and you start to panic all over again, your eyes going wide as you try to push her away, but she's so much stronger than you are.

"Don't you fight me now!" She growls as she holds you even tighter. "I've seen the longing looks you give me. That little pussy is practically begging for my touch. It knows I've been taking good care of it." She whispers, fer face nuzzling into your neck and inhaling you in a gesture of sudden gentleness.

The realization that she's the reason for the surge of neediness you've been feeling, that she's been doing this for God knows how long has you even more scared of her and she sees it and she doesn't want to see that fear in your eyes. In her fantasies, when you cry it's from all the pleasure she gives you, from the endless string of orgasms that she coaxes out of you, even after you've claimed that you can't anymore.

Wanda talks you down, until you're calm. She keeps you pinned, as she tells you all about the things she likes to do to you, the words both unsettling and undeniably arousing. She confesses all the feelings she's been having and the more you listen to her, the harder it is to deny that you want this. That you want her. By the time she's done and she pulls her hand away from your mouth, you're much calmer and your eyes search hers with excitement and want.

That first night she fucks you for hours. She has you riding her thigh, while she kisses and teases your breasts, has you on your back with her fingers deep inside you, makes you sit on her bunk, having chosen the top one and she eats you standing up, with your legs wrapped around her. She bends you over your own bed, so she can finger you some more, wishing she could have even one of the extensive collection of straps she used to own, so she can really pound into you, but she makes it work. Eventually you're so exhausted that she has to ride your face, but to be honest, she loves it.

Each night is a new adventure from this point on, but with Wanda it's never boring. God, she loves using your mouth in any way she can. She likes to lean against the cell wall and have you eat her out, naked and on your knees, while she's still fully dressed, or to make you suck her fingers, while she holds you, waiting till she’s soaked and you’re desperate, to make you watch her fuck herself and cumming to the sound of your soft whines, because you crave her so badly. 

After talking to you, she keeps her habit of groping and fucking you in your sleep, but now you don't mind. You love waking up to a needy pussy and messy underwear, while Wanda holds you tightly. She loves how shy you are, how sweet and soft you are and she loves to use it against you. Her favourite game was to strip you naked and have you stand in front of the bars of your cell, while she teased you mercilessly and stopped any time you so much as let out a whimper. When she’s had enough, she’d fuck you hard and rough, whispering in your ear what a dirty girl you are, letting her do this to you while anyone on the cellblock could wake up and see you.

Wanda is so touch starved, that she takes to sleeping in your bed from the first night you spent together. Her arms are always securely wrapped around you, or she just pulls you on top of her, if she wants more space and she shushes any protests you might have, until you fall back asleep. She dreads the mornings, when she has to go back to her own bunk, so the guards wouldn't give you any trouble, but she had learned to be a realist long ago.

It quickly turns into a serious relationship for the both of you, finding comfort in each-other and she encourages you to seek justice for your case, because you don't deserve to be in a place like that and she only wants the best for you. Your sentence is unjustly long and she fears the day hers will be over. She only has a few more months, having served most of her 2 years for getting caught during one of her and her brother’s food heists. It was stupid, she knows, but there wasn’t much for grown orphans on the streets and they were starving. They had the bad luck of a patrol car passing by the store when they were leaving. Pietro was much faster than she was, but he dragged her with him for as much as he could, the food they so desperately needed scattered on the concrete long ago. Eventually, she made him leave her and save himself. It was better that way. Better if at least one of them was out. She never resented him for it. In fact he came to visit every week and before you came along, it was the highlight of her grey existence.

Your friends and family help you a lot with your case and they never give up on you either, contacting lawyers and all kinds of organizations, seeking support and a way to set you free, but it takes time.

Wanda gets released first, but she comes to visit you every chance she gets. She even brings Pietro, so you could meet him. The separation is hard on both of you, but she always tells you she'll wait for you. She sends you letters too, as a way to surprise and comfort you and you never tell her how much they mean to you, or how often you cried while you read her words of love and support.

She meets your family, as per your request and she quickly bonds with them, getting just as involved as they are in helping you prove your innocence and eventually, 4 months after she was forced to leave you in that prison, there's finally a breakthrough in your case.

The trials and the process is gruelling, but she waits for you outside the prison gates on the day of your release and she swears to never leave your side again.

Looking back on the whole ordeal, you always felt like even though your time spent in prison was the most horrific part of your life, it had brought you the best part too, because now, you woke up next to Wanda Maximoff every day and you would continue to do so, for the rest of your life. _______________________________________________________ If you liked this story and you want more, please visit the Masterlist with all my works. Happy reading!

[crissiebaby]

Codi's Trick

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, diaper filling, masturbation/diaper sex, slime transformation, humiliation, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

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“This is never going to work!”

“Shhhhh! Try to be optimistic.”

“We’re too old for this!”

“I keep telling you, no, we’re not! And I triple-checked. This neighborhood is Little friendly. We have nothing to worry about.”

*DING DONG*

Lifting her finger off of the doorbell, Crissie stepped back with a giddy expression on her face. Dressed up as a non-specific, non-mouse house princess, she quickly cozied up next to her partner in crime, Codi, huddling close for warmth on the chilly October night. She tugged at her short skirt which did nothing to hide her bulky diaper as a gust of wind moved between her thighs. “I really should’ve worn stockings,” she said, forcing a heavy exhale and watching the white cloud of steamy breath form mid-air.

“I told you!” said Codi, rolling her eyes and shrugging Crissie off of her. Per Crissie’s orders, she was wearing a fancy prince costume that she’d pilfered a few years prior. At least she had something on that covered all of her body on such a cold evening. She’d never been one to retain heat well. That being said, she wasn’t thrilled about the massive diaper bulge she was rocking thanks to the tight pants she had on. 

After waiting for a few seconds, Crissie and Codi could hear footsteps moving closer to the door. Readying a big smile, Crissie was excited to tell her first knock-knock joke of the night. She’d been preparing for over a month with a book she bought online, much to Codi’s dismay. Codi, on the other hand, took the time to quickly check the hem of her pants, making sure that the diaper she had on wasn’t poking out. She didn’t need to make her padded status any more pronounced.

The door swung open and a kindly-looking woman who had to be pushing 50 years old stepped out with a bowl of candy in hand. “Trick or treat!” shouted Crissie before elbowing Codi to repeat the phrase.

“T-trick or treat,” muttered Codi, avoiding eye contact with the middle-aged woman as she held her empty candy bag forward, “Sorry if we’re a bit too old for this. It’s my first time so I don’t really know the rules very well.”

Patting Codi gently on the head, the older woman giggled at her apology. “Oh, deary, there’s no need for that. Everyone deserves the chance to do some candy begging. No matter how old you get, it’s what's in here that matters, and I can tell you have a youthful spirit,” she said, pointing to Codi’s heart, “Now, as a first-timer, you should know that the cost of a piece of candy is your finest joke.”

“Ooh! I’m so ready for this!” said Crissie, clearing her throat an excessive amount, “Why is Cinderella so bad at sports?”

Suppressing a chuckle, the older woman asked simply, “Why?”

“Because her coach is a pumpkin!” yelled Crissie, leaping into the air on the punchline thanks to her child-like energy going off the charts. She held her decretive, princess-themed candy basket forward, watching with hungry eyes as the woman dropped a small handful of miniature candies into her basket. 

Having completed her trick-or-treat joke, all eyes turned to Codi, filling her heart with anxiety. With her eyes trained on the older woman’s dark brown flats, she mumbled, “W-What kind of medicine do witches use on their warts?” Internally, she cringed at the joke she had picked out. It wasn’t extremely funny but it was the only one to get a chuckle out of her when Crissie was reading that dumb joke book non-stop.

Before the older woman could ask for the answer, Codi blurted it out nervously, too on edge to play along with human joke conventions, “I don’t know, but whatever it is isn’t working.” She laughed under her breath after finishing the joke, trying to fill the void of awkward silence that followed.

“Haha! That’s hilarious! Best joke I’ve heard all night,” said the woman, cackling generously. While to many, it would be obvious that she was laughing along for Codi’s sake, Codi was still new to the way Earth people talked and took her words at face value. She curled her lips inward and produced a soft smile, happy to receive such glowing praise.

“But! But! What about the Cinderella joke?!” shouted Crissie, bouncing on the tips of her feet with a pouty expression, “That was the best one too, right?!”

The older woman giggled at Crissie’s immaturity, finding her bratty behavior adorable. “Of course, you two are both hilarious,” she said, giving Crissie the same headpat treatment that Codi was getting, “In fact, since you both are so funny, why don’t I give you an extra special treat? I have a sheet of cookies cooling on my stovetop. Would you two like one?”

“Um, is that even a question?” said Crissie, her excitement doubling at the sound of munching on her favorite dessert. It was only their first house and they were off to a fantastic start. If this kept up, this was bound to be the best trick-or-treat night ever!

Walking back into her house, the older woman called back, “Wait right there. I’ll grab you each one.”

While waiting for the cookies to arrive, Crissie looked down at her candy basket, checking to see what delectable treats she had been given. “Ooh! A pixie stick and some Twix minis. What did you get?” she asked, leaning over to sneak a peek into Codi’s bag.

“I-I don’t know,” said Codi, peering into her bag at the candies she had been given, all of which were completely foreign to her, “Are you sure it’s a good idea we keep going after this? I’m not so certain everyone will be as open as this lady is.”

“Relax, you big worry wort! House number one and we’re getting fresh-baked cookies as a bonus treat. If that’s a sign of how our night’s gonna go, everything’s going to be A-OK!” said Crissie, letting Codi’s concerns bounce off of her. 

Before Codi could raise another protest, the older woman returned, carrying two cookies individually wrapped in a paper towel. “Be careful, they're still a bit hot,” she said, handing off the first cookie to Crissie and the second one to Codi.

As Codi graciously accepted the pastry, she could’ve sworn she saw the older woman wink at her. However, the moment was too quick for her to be certain. She quickly pushed the idea out of her head and chalked it up to her being overly paranoid.

“Yay! Snickerdoodles are the best!” shouted Crissie as she instantly went to work devouring the cinnamon-covered cookie. With a mouthful of moist dough, she added, “Fankoo, owd wady!” not considering how insulting her words were.

Not wanting to be rude, Codi meekly took a tiny bite of her cookie, before stuttering, “I-It’s very yummy. Thank you.” Part of her didn’t know why “yummy” was the first descriptor that came to mind. It definitely felt like something Crissie would say instead of her. Perhaps the childishness of the night’s events was finally rubbing off on her.

Scarfing down the last bite of her cookie, Crissie licked the cinnamon sugar off of her fingertips, savoring the last of the scrumptious confection. Without saying another word, the impatient Little ran off, ready to beg for candy at the next house.

“Crissie, wait up!” yelled Codi, rushing off to join her friend. She took one look back at the middle-aged woman and said, “Have a good night!” before turning around and sprinting to catch up.

Leaning against her door frame, the older woman snickered, her eyes glowing around her irises. “You too, baby girl. You too.”

Running up to the next house, which was painted bright pink with multi-colored, pastel shutters to help its exterior pop, Crissie eagerly pressed the doorbell before turning back and waving to Codi. “Come on, slowpoke!” she shouted, snickering as she watched Codi waddle up to the porch.

“Ugh! At least tell me before you run off next time,” said Codi, leaning over and placing her hands on her knees as she recovered from the run. Being a shut-in artist, she didn’t have a whole lot of stamina to speak of, unlike Crissie who seemingly had an endless supply of energy. Part of her wished she could know what it felt like to be so loose and carefree all the time. However, that wish never made it past the concept phase thanks to watching Crissie make a fool of herself countless times. Looking back, she noticed a sign on the side of the house that read The Pretty Palace Daycare Center. “Crissie, I don’t think anyone’s here. It’s daycare so they’re probably closed for the-”

Before Codi could finish her sentence, the door opened and a young man who looked as though he was young enough to still be in college stepped out with a bowl of candy in hand. He was dressed up as a vampire, albeit a lame one that was more than likely thrown together last minute.

“Trick or treat!” said Crissie and Codi with a flourish of enthusiasm. Crissie’s head whipped toward Codi in response, beyond surprised to see her getting into the festivities. Brushing it off as nothing more than her getting over her nerves, she turned back to the young man and held her bag forward. “I love your daycare, by the way! It looks like a fun place to play!” Getting another eyeful of her surroundings and the young man at its center, she could feel a new story idea brewing in her head.

“Thanks! It’s not mine, though. I’m just the one who got left holding the candy bowl while everyone else is out trick-or-treating,” said the man, dropping his performative smile and acting more casually due to the fact that he was dealing with adults and not children, “Judging from those diaper bulges, I take it you both are Littles. Well, the fee is the same for kids and adult kids. One joke equals one piece of candy.”

Giggling at being called out for the thickness of her diaper, Crissie was prepared to launch into her next joke. However, before she could say anything, Codi blurted out gleefully, “Why do you put a baby in a diaper?”

Crissie’s head once again snapped in Codi’s direction. What had gotten into her bestie? First, she joined in saying “trick or treat” without any hesitation. Now, she was delivering a joke confidently like she’d been doing so for years. Not to mention that the joke she was telling had to be original. If there had been a diaper joke in that book, Crissie would’ve been using it non-stop.

“To tie up loose ends!” said Codi without giving the young man any chance to respond. She then burst into hysterics, doubling over in a fit of uproarious laughter. Then, without warning, she lunged forward for the candy bowl, grabbing a handful of candy before toddling off into the night.

Still in a state of shock, Crissie looked back and forth between the young man and her friend who was shrinking into the distance. “Um…she’s not usually so…whatever that was. Sorry about that,” she said as she turned around and prepared to chase after Codi. Before running off the porch, though, she reached back and took her own handful of candy from the bowl, shoving it into her basket and rushing in Codi’s direction, “Codi, wait up!”

Hanging a sharp right at the end of the block, Codi paid little mind to the words of her padded pal. Instead, she proudly rushed up to the next house and banged her fist on the door, shouting, “Trick or treat! Trick or treat! Trick or treat!” over and over again. 

Crissie reached the same doorstep just in time to see a middle-aged man open the door. He looked a tad shocked to see a pair of adults out trick or treating, letting the full-time bab know that this was probably not someone to be overly Little in front of.

Codi, on the other hand, had no restraint. “Hey, mister! What are the two reasons I wear diapers?!” she shouted before turning around, pulling down her waistband, and presenting her padded rump for the unsuspecting man. Scrunching up her face, she grunted and let out a small load into the seat of her pampers, causing it to sag dramatically. An all too familiar hiss of urine hitting her diaper soon followed as she proudly stated the answer to her joke, “Number one and number two!”

Needless to say, Crissie’s jaw hit the pavement, stupefied by the outrageous display that her dear roommate was putting on. “C-Codi? Are you…feeling alright?” asked Crissie, inching closer and patting Codi on the back.

“You betcha, Pissy Crissie!” responded Codi, causing Crissie’s face to flush intensely over being called such a dorky nickname, “Especially now that my tummy isn’t so full!” She rubbed her belly with one hand and reached down to smoosh her messy diaper with the other, giggling all the while. Then, with her candy bag in hand, she held it open for the man to drop a piece of candy inside.

Nervously, the middle-aged man placed a mini-candy bar in Codi’s bag and backed away. “Um…d-do you want some candy too?” he said to Crissie, refusing to make eye contact with either girl.

Unable to turn down such an offer even in the face of unbelievable circumstances, Crissie shrugged and reached out to accept the candy offering. “It’s uh…her first time trick-or-treating. I think she’s just a tad too excited,” she said, starkly contrasting the attitude she had only two houses prior. She quickly bent down to grab Codi by the shoulder and stand her back up.

Unfortunately, Codi wasn’t interested in standing at the moment. She was far more enamored with the idea of squishing. Allowing her legs to go limp, she fell back onto her butt and began to bounce up and down, giggling all the while.

“Here, just take as much as you want so long as you please leave,” said the man, setting the candy bowl on the pavement by his door and retreating back inside.

As concerned as Crissie was for her friend's sudden shift in personality, free candy was too good to pass up. Kneeling down next to the candy bowl, she began shoveling the bite-size pieces into her basket. 

*Crinkle!*

“Eeeep!” screamed Crissie as she felt a wandering hand grab the underside of her diaper. One quick look back revealed what she already knew.

Stationed directly behind Crissie was Codi, who was wearing a mischievous smile as she felt up Crissie’s partially used nappy. “Only soggy? And here I thought you were CrissieBABY,” she said, bringing her hand dangerously close to Crissie’s kitten. 

Unsure of what to do, Crissie knew that the display they were putting on whilst standing on some random dude's porch was probably not the best idea. On the other hand, she’d been trying to get Codi to come on to her for quite some time. She may have been too nervous to say anything, but Codi was totally her type. “C-Codi, we can’t do this here!” whisper-yelled Crissie, covering her mouth as her nursery mate continued to tease her with the idea of naughty diaper fun. She frantically looked around, both thankful and nervous that no one was around to stop them.

“Sure, we can. If I can fill my diaper right here and now, so can you,” said Codi, snickering as she circled around Crissie like a lioness in heat, keeping Crissie tucked beneath her claws all the while. That’s when a cheeky, idle thought entered her brain, one that made her horny beyond belief, “Tell you what. Why don’t I fill your diaper for you?” She moved her hand to the front of Crissie’s waistband, pulling it open slightly.

Confused, Crissie was about to ask what Codi meant by that. Did she expect her to remove her diaper in public? She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. However, just as she was about to tell Codi no, she looked back to see the most unbelievable sight.

Holding her other hand up for Crissie to see, Codi’s unnaturally pale hand turned fully translucent, taking on a lilac hue. Forming a fist with her fingers, she merged her digits into a single, slimy appendage. “You know, I can’t believe you never asked what kind of being I was. Pretty neat trick, huh?” she said, licking her lips as she plunged her moldable slime tentacle into Crissie’s diaper.

Crissie moaned passionately as Codi’s lukewarm, purple slime moved to occupy as much space in her diaper as possible. Frozen in place from the sheer inconceivability of what was happening, she watched as her diaper swelled in all directions, quickly taking on the same color as Codi’s body. All the while, her hand remained firmly pressed to her mouth and blushy cheeks, preventing her moans from getting any louder. “Y-You’re a slime girl? Why have you never-”

“Because I was too nervous to tell you. I don’t know what’s come over me but I feel so confident tonight…and silly. Hehehe!” she said, finally removing her hand now that Crissie’s diaper was filled to the brim with her ooze, “And for the record, we prefer the term goo-people. I hope it’s not a problem.”

Before Crissie could inquire further about Codi’s personhood…or goo-hood in this instance, she felt her diaper start to shift and rub up against her, as if dozens of tiny hands were mooshing her padding around all at once. “W-wha…wha awe chu…” she sputtered out, unable to form a single sentence thanks to the unreal pleasure she was experiencing.

“Whether or not my goo is attached to me, I can still control it. Makes for quite the diaper filling, doesn’t it?” teased Codi, using her reformed hand to squish the near-overflowing diaper and causing Crissie to let out yet another adorable moan. Taking Crissie by the hand, she led the shaky-legged Little away from the house and back toward the sidewalk. “Come on, the night is young and there’s still plenty of candy to collect, little sis. Or are you too horny to keep going?”

Blushing deep crimson, Crissie allowed Codi to drag her forward, too embarrassed to admit how unfathomably aroused she was. Of course, she wanted to go back to the nursery where it was certain that sexy diaper time was bound to happen. At the same time, though, she didn’t want to rob Codi of her first chance at trick-or-treating. Plus, it wasn’t like the nursery was going anywhere. With the goo in her diaper refusing to let up, she shuffled behind her new crush, ready for a fun night of yummy candy and even yummier diaper play.

Meanwhile, sitting on her porch out in front of her house with her bowl of candy in hand, the woman from the first house they visited reclined in her seat with a warm blanket over her lap, enjoying the chilly nighttime air. By now, she knew that the spell she placed on those cookies had to have fully taken effect. “Nothing like a little personality swapping to add some excitement to the night,” she said to herself, sipping from her mug of hot cocoa with a devious smile, “Happy Halloween to all and to all a spooky night.”

THE END.

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To read and see more of Crissie and Codi's adventures, check out The Crissie Canon gallery on DeviantArt! (https://www.deviantart.com/crissiebaby/gallery/80803633/the-crissie-canon)

Artwork By CodiBaby 💜 Story By CrissieBaby 💕

Patreon: patreon.com/crissiebaby DeviantArt: deviantart.com/crissiebaby Pixiv: pixiv.net/en/users/27465644

[wizardrousactivity]

They Promised. Part IIII

Previously      Next

TW: Mentions of past-childhood trauma for reader (not yet), unwanted pregnancy, pregnancy inaccuracies, angst, mentions of abortion, a silly violence scene, reader is fairly young (early twenties)

Pairings: Ex!König x Reader x Ex!Simon or however you view it!!!

A/N: I’m quite proud of how this story is progressing, I have gotten way better at writing and I hope you can see and enjoy that too! <3 1k words for this chapter

Quite frankly, losing your virginity didn’t feel as electrifying as it did before. Nothing could stop that constant ache of heartbreak in your stomach, churning with guilt - unidentifiable guilt. You couldn’t understand why you felt so queasy about something you didn’t do, you wish it would just go away, to stab away your uterus and anything distinctively you. 

You stare blankly at the ceiling above you, tears beginning to prick at your eyes. They lie beside you, backs turned, a drastic change from when you guys used to hold yourselves close in warm cuddles. The thought of it seems too sweet. 

Sickeningly sweet to you. 

It’s 3:28 AM and you still can’t find yourself asleep from the tantalizing nightmares, waking up sweat-ridden and uneasy. You swallow, noticing how dry your mouth has gone, getting up like a mouse to get to the kitchen. 

The floorboards creak with every step you take, an eerie sound that makes the skin on your back prickle up - it’s award winning horror movie production at this point, a nightmare and then an overly done creepy scene. You scowl at a dark corner, hoping a random ghost would see it and run away. It’s something that would’ve made Ghost laugh at you, but you hate to even acknowledge him now. 

By then you’ve gotten some cold water for your thirst, taking small sips and crunching on the ice - wrapping your hands around your waist, feeling around the fat that has grown there. A natural consequence from your stomach getting so big during pregnancy, the baby coming out a large baby boy. 

You sob, feeling disgusted with yourself again. You need to see yourself in the mirror, is it that bad as it feels - you get up, heading to the bathroom near the kitchen to properly see yourself. 

That’s till you’re yanked into a strange body, you yelp into the stranger’s kiss, their hands gripping your body hungrily. You’re scared, their tongue almost entering your mouth when you don’t even know who they are.

 Their lips are cracked and rough against your own, making you cringe against them. But there’s no room for your judgeful expressions, already being eaten up by them. By this strange monster in your house, a hungry monster - one that’s starved of actual human affection, hands almost leaving bruises from how tightly they’ve dug into you. You scream a little bit, hand pounding itself against their chest to let you go. 

And they do, letting you breathe a bit before you knock yourself against a wall. Your movements are sloppy, tired and you’re scared. They grab you, holding you close to them. That’s when you finally get a good look at who they are. Buzzed hair, rugged-sad expression, abnormally large. You gasp, squirming against their grasp. “Don’t. Please.” He sounds desperate, begging you not to leave him. Again. 

“König! Stop-” He shushes you quickly, almost asserting dominance over you. And it makes you fucking mad.

 “I saw you. I saw you crying when you touched yourself.” König glares down at you, watching you scowl up at him. “Why do you care? You’re the one who left me.” You try pulling away again, but his hand feels like it’s iron-gripped on your wrists. Keeping you locked with him, close with him like never before. 

He goes quiet for a moment, swallowing. “I want to talk to you. Please.” Your faces are about inches away from each other, he looks tired - red tainting his under eyes like he hasn’t slept in days. “You don’t need me anymore König.” 

“You’ve shown me that already.” Your eyes look to the side as if it would be painful to make eye contact with him, and his grip relents. Watching you turn away from him to leave him, leave him alone once again. His knuckles clenched painfully, cheeks tainted in pink from embarrassment in himself. Suddenly you can hear footsteps following behind you, like he has something to counter your retort. 

“I need to talk to you.” Two stomps toward you. “I need to hear you.” You gasp when two hands suddenly pull you in for another kiss, your chests pressing together. But he pauses. “Do you want this?” You tense up, thinking about the consequences afterwards. This doesn’t feel right, none of it feels right. You don’t want him to kiss you, you feel a bit angry if that. 

“König… This doesn’t.. This isn’t right.” He softens, muscles relaxing from the previous adrenaline from you. “Let me go. Please.”

“I just want to do the talking. Don’t kiss or hug me, you know it’s not gonna fix anything.” 

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pattering rain hits your windows, light from the fireplace illuminating the small spot you were sitting in. 

He’s listening to you, listening to how you ached, what your life became when they left. You’re sitting there trying to suppress your urges to cry, just for the sake of not ruining this environment for you. Or maybe nothing is for you, maybe you’re doing everything just for them. He obviously sees that, and he truly meant it when he said he wanted to hear you - let yourself cry, let everything out please. 

“You broke me.” König’s nodding with his head tilted to the floor beneath him, like an embarrassed or guilty child. Your face scrunches up at the sight, you want to kill him. You don’t think he would stop you if you tried either. 

Each word is like poison on your tongue, he should know how you feel - he should know how it feels to be betrayed by people you thought loved you. How it feels to carry their offspring, unable to afford an abortion. Your fists clench by your sides at the sight of the room turning red, and the sight of König’s body somehow getting closer to you.  

Before you know it you’re landing punches to his jaw. Full of your brute anger that has been stored up for months, he’s letting it happen, grunting underneath you. 

But you want him to scream. 

[eksvaized]

[ Previous ┃ Next ] part 5

After finally venturing back inside, Simon did not approach you for an entire hour. Instead, he chose to keep his distance and observe you from afar. You were on the dance floor with Liz by your side. Both of you were giggling and dancing, twirling around in each other’s arms. He stayed in a dark corner, hidden, hoping no one would bother him.

He watched intently as you gracefully swayed your hips from side to side, your arms wrapped around Liz as the two of you moved in perfect sync. He realised he wasn’t the only one whose eyes you caught. In fact, practically every man in the club had their hungry gazes fixed on you, looking over their shoulders, stealing sneaky glances while their girlfriends weren’t watching. A few times, several of them tried to approach you and Liz. You weren’t successful at turning down unwanted attention, but Liz was, ensuring drunk idiots didn’t bother either of you for too long.

“Hello, you,” someone purred into his ear. He felt a gentle touch on his arm as fingers traced a path up his bicep, giving it a light squeeze, trying to peel his focus away from the dance floor.

With hesitation, Simon turned his head to the side and saw Mandy standing next to him. She batted her eyelashes at him, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, and biting the soft flesh. A mischievous smile formed on her face.

If she was any other girl, he would have shoved her away after telling her he was not interested in talking. However, she was your friend, and no matter what she wanted, Simon was determined to tolerate her presence. He didn’t want to risk upsetting Mindy because he was sure that she would then report it all to you, which could potentially tarnish Simon in your eyes.

The problem was that Mindy didn’t want just to talk. She couldn’t comprehend how a plain mouse like you could capture his interest. In her mind, she considered herself superior to you, so she was determined to steal his attention.

“I saw you here, all alone, looking bored,” Mindy said, her fingers gradually slipping down from his arm and her hand retreating back to her side. “And because you’re apparently Y/N’s friend... I felt obligated to offer you my company. She’s busy and I’m not.”

Simon wanted to distance himself from Mindy, but he made a conscious effort to put on a friendly facade. Mindy took a step closer, rising on her tiptoes as her face inched closer to his. She leaned in, briefly focusing on his lips before meeting his gaze.

“Plus, don’t tell Y/N, but... I’m a much better company than she is. With her, you might get bored, but with me, I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

There was nothing about Mindy that he liked. She was too cocky, too self-absorbed, and definitely too confident. She approached Simon, expecting to win him over instantly because no man had ever turned her down. However, there was always a first time for everything, and Simon was determined to prove to her that her looks alone would not make him fold and fall to his knees.

“Ah, how nice of you, really. But I’m fine on my own.” He wanted to turn her down, but he realised he had to be smart about it.

“Let me buy you a drink, at least,” Mandy insisted. Despite Simon’s lack of interest in her, she remained stubborn and refused to leave him alone.

He shook his head and looked away from her, his gaze returning to the dance floor.

Liz had disappeared. You were all alone, but you didn’t seem to care about the lack of company. With your eyes closed, you allowed yourself to be completely consumed by the music. Your fingers ran through your hair, your hands caressed your body, and you swayed your hips to the beat. Simon could not tear his eyes off of you. He was mesmerised by your beauty, utterly enchanted by the way you effortlessly moved your body, shutting out the chaotic noise of the world around you.

While keeping one eye on you, he continued to entertain Mandy, who was still bent on sticking around. He racked his brain, trying to come up with an excuse that would allow him to get rid of her, but he had a sinking feeling that none of his usual tricks would be effective in persuading her to leave.

Simon saw a man approach you. The drunk stranger whispered something into your ear. You shook your head and smiled politely. From the looks of it, it seemed like you were trying to tell the man you weren’t interested in talking with him. As Simon watched the interaction, his gut instincts told him he should intervene. However, he didn’t want to overreact. He kept himself rooted to the ground.

But then, you pushed the stranger away for the second time. The man laughed, shook his head and placed his palm on your back, gradually inching his hand lower. Looking uncomfortable, you tried to move away from him. Though your polite smile remained, your eyes grew wide, and you anxiously glanced around.

“I think I see Y/N,” Simon said and turned to face Mindy, who was still running her mouth. “I’m going to be right back.”

Mindy’s lips parted in confusion, her eyes growing darker and angrier. She was not pleased with the fact that Simon had chosen to ditch her for you. But before she could react, try to grab his hand and stop him, Simon had already started forcing his way through the crowd, pushing past the stumbling people, determined to get to the dance floor as soon as possible.

“Is everything all right here?” Simon asked calmly as he approached you and the stranger. His voice carried a hint of concern, though he tried to hide his anger; his face remained expressionless, but his fingers curled into tight fists.

When you turned around and saw Simon, he could see a visible relief wash over your face.

“Yeah, yeah. Everything is fine. You can move along, buddy,” the man said, causing Simon’s jaw to tighten.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Simon spat back, grinding his teeth. This time, he couldn’t hide his irritation while speaking.

Simon’s attention shifted to you. Your eyes darted between the two men. Sensing that you wanted to get away from the stranger, Simon wrapped his fingers around your shoulder and guided you towards the bar, giving you a gentle push to steer you away from the sea of people.

“This is the second time you saved me,” you pointed out when the two of you found an empty spot at the end bar. While leaning against the counter, you shifted your body closer to the wall, letting Simon shield you away from the people.

“Well, I guess that then, instead of one, you owe me two drinks now,” he said with a playful smile directed towards you, which caused you to giggle and enthusiastically nod your head.

“Sounds fair.”

But he only let you buy him one glass of whiskey. And the second time you ordered drinks, he paid for both of you because he didn’t want you to waste your hard-earned money on him.

You two talked and flirted a lot. He often had to lean down and speak into your ear, so you could hear what he was saying. His warm breath tickled your skin. Whenever his hand lightly brushed against your waist or his fingers slowly traced down your arm, an electrifying shiver would run down your spine. And maybe it was just all the cocktails you had drank, but the more you chatted with him, the more you liked him. He was handsome and funny, and unlike the other men in the club, he wasn’t completely wasted. Most importantly, he didn’t creep you out.

At one point, you couldn’t help but notice your gaze fixating on his lips. At that moment, a sudden realisation washed over you — you wanted to kiss him. However, you quickly pushed that thought to the back of your mind. No matter how tempted you were to brush your lips against his, it would be too forward. You weren’t drunk enough yet to act so boldly.

“Aren’t your friends going to be upset that you ditched them for me?” Simon inquired, his fingers lightly drumming against the empty glass in his hand.

“No,” you immediately blurted out, looking around while shaking your head. Mindy was nowhere to be found, and Liz seemed to have disappeared into the crowd, engrossed in conversation with some strangers on the dance floor. “They often abandon me whenever an attractive guy flirts with them, so I guess it’s my turn to do the same.”

You and he had another hour to spend together before Mindy and Liz approached you. Apparently, they were bored and wanted to go home, and insisted that you go with them.

“Friends don’t leave their girlfriends alone at the club with some stranger they just met,” Mindy stated with a smile. However, her words had a sarcastic undertone, suggesting that your safety wasn’t her top priority, and her only goal was to lure you away from him. If Mindy couldn’t have Simon, she didn’t want you to be with him, either.

Simon didn’t want to say goodbye to you just yet, but he realised he couldn’t force you to stay, either. Before you left, you asked him for his phone, which he handed to you. You entered your phone number and returned it to him.

“Call me,” you smiled. “Because I still owe you a drink.”

He watched as you, Mindy, and Liz exited the club. By the time he got outside, too, the three of you were already gone.

He decided to have a quick smoke before calling a cab and going home. As he stood further away from the crowd, enjoying the crisp air and feeling relieved having escaped the deafening awful music, the creepy stranger who had been causing problems for you earlier approached him.

“You stole my girl,” the man stated, angrily pointing his finger at Simon, pressing its tip to his chest. The stranger’s body was swaying from side to side as he struggled to keep his composure.

Simon could tell that the man was heavily intoxicated, so he refused to entertain him. At first, he remained silent, hoping that his lack of response would deter the persistent stranger. However, the man continued to talk, irritating Simon and pushing his limits.

“Shut up and go before I break your nose,” Simon warned in a bitter tone.

Simon walked away and fetched his phone out of his pocket. While his gaze was glued to the screen, the stranger approached him again. The drunk man shoved Simon, using all his strength, clearly not feeling happy about being ignored.

Simon inhaled sharply and remained still, choosing to overlook the stranger’s reckless behaviour. However, when the man pushed Simon for a second time, Simon lost all control. The anger surged through Simon, causing his eyes to darken, his nostrils to flare, and his mind to shut off.

Simon’s clenched fist forcefully struck the man’s nose, a revolting crack resonating through the air. He punched the stranger once. Then twice. Simon kept hitting him, each punch landing with a sickening thud. The man’s balance faltered, his body collapsing to the ground, but Simon’s relentless fury endured. His hands became stained with crimson, his knuckles throbbing with an insatiable itch. With every irregular, ragged breath, the scent of iron filled the air, mingling with the acrid taste of adrenaline.

Simon’s vision became distorted, blurring the world around him and heightening his senses. It didn’t help that he couldn’t stop thinking about you, either. He kept imagining what the stranger would have done to you if he hadn’t interfered. What if the man would have followed you home? What if he had done something and Simon hadn’t been there to stop him? The questions continued to pile up in his head, intensifying his anger and transforming it into pure rage.

Simon only drew back when whispers and murmurs reached his ears. The crowd was rapidly gathering around the scene. Everyone was pointing fingers, gasping loudly and whispering among themselves. Despite his mind being in disarray, Simon’s ability to observe made him acutely aware of how terrible everything looked. The tension in the air was palpable. The realisation hit him like a truck: he was beating up a guy who, at this point, wasn’t even attempting to defend himself.

Simon took a step back, releasing his grip on the stranger’s shirt and allowing his body to crumple to the ground. A mixture of guilt and regret engulfed Simon, overwhelming him like a sudden downpour. He glanced around, cursing under his breath as he examined the crowd. His attention returned to the motionless man lying before him. A question gnawed at his mind: was the stranger even breathing anymore?

Fuck.

No, no, no.

He can’t be dead.

Simon refused to let the same story repeat itself. He didn’t want to do something he had done before. He collapsed on his knees and shifted the man onto his back. From up close, after leaning down, he could see the stranger’s chest slowly rise and fall — he was breathing, and even if Simon broke a couple of his ribs and left his face bloody, at least the man was still alive.

Before anyone could call the police or attract the attention of the club’s security, Simon quickly stood up and distanced himself from the sea of people, leaving the man to lay on the cold concrete.

Only after crossing the street did Simon dare to turn around and look back. He noticed a woman kneeling beside the stranger, while a man stood next to her with a phone pressed to his ear, likely calling an ambulance.

[sinfulsalutations]

𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕠𝕟𝕖 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕖𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕪 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕙𝕠𝕨𝕫𝕖𝕣

⋆ ★ ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 2023 ʟɪɴᴇᴜᴘ

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ ʜᴏᴡᴢᴇʀ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ʜᴏᴡᴢᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʙᴏʏ, ʜᴏɴᴇꜱᴛʟʏ ɴᴏ ʀᴇᴀʟ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴍʏ ʙᴀᴅ, ꜱᴛᴇᴀᴍɪɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʀɪᴅɪᴄᴜʟᴏᴜꜱʟʏ ᴛᴇᴅɪᴏᴜꜱ ʏᴇᴛ ꜱᴇxʏ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴘʟᴀʏ

⋆ ★ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴡɪᴛʜ, ᴡᴇʟʟ, ɴᴏ ʀᴇᴀʟ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴅ ᴍᴇ ʙʟᴜꜱʜɪɴɢ ꜰᴜʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ. ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ :)

➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

“What would you like me to do for you?”

You turn your head, fixing your posture as you gaze at your boyfriend across the room. He’s dressed handsomely to the nines; the black uniform shines like patent leather, silver buttons catching the light like metalwork in a museum. His white waistcoat and dress shirt peek out from beneath, hugging his form and frame most enticingly. His hands folded at his front, gloved in white, curl slowly, stretching out his knuckles as if he were preparing himself. Everything about him is pure grace and gift, something you're so thankful to lay hungry, salacious eyes upon. You lean an elbow on your armrest, taking long and thoughtful libations of his appearance. Then, you think about what he asks you.

You don’t take long. Those few words provide all you need to know. It’s a part of your secret language, how you communicate while playing characters. It’s how you know Howzer is ready to serve you as your obedient butler tonight.

“That’s a good question,” You say, smiling coyly. You spin yourself in your chair and cross your legs, casually comprising yourself into a pretty glass of water for him to drink. “I’m not sure yet.”

Howzer nods curtly, swiping his covered palms against each other as he looks at your positioning by the vanity. He’s endlessly patient, this man; especially when tasked like this to serve. You adore it.

“I’ve cleaned the sitting room and the kitchen,” He informs, and you grin in approval. “I also folded all of the laundry.”

“Thank you,” You twirl a strand of hair between a finger and bite your lip as he inches closer. You tantalize and tease the other in your little game of cat and mouse as Howzer anticipates your next move, eager and curious to see what you have in mind.

“It’s simply my job, my lady.”

Your core tingles and your spine shivers in thrill.

“Of course,” You fake correct yourself. Howzer takes another step closer. You uncross your legs and smooth out the skirt of your dress. “If you have nothing else to do…”

Perking up, he watches your tongue swipe against your bottom lip and get tugged between your top teeth.

“Yes?” He waits for you to finish your sentence.

“Would you take off my shoes for me?” You lift a leg and point your toes in his direction with a raised eyebrow. It’s hard not to smirk.

You don’t expect him to comply so quickly. He drops to his knees and crawls toward you almost immediately.

He takes off your shoes, his peripheral vision guiding him as he keeps eye contact with you.

When both are off, Howzer slides a gentle palm up and down your right shin. You bite your lip.

“Good job.” 

The praise heats his cheeks.

“Of course.”

Howzer places your shoes on the floor, sliding off your socks with it, but his eyes are zeroed in on your exposed skin above, your legs set only a little spread. Not enough for him to fit his head between them, but certainly enough to get a good look.

He hisses. Crest of his chin dipping down, the motion is almost like he’s bowing to his high commander, keen to obey. He purses his lips and plants a firm, long kiss on the side of your calf. His eyes remain shut as he trails his mouth up and kisses the very beginning of your inner thigh.

You hum, patting his head and running your fingers through his soft hair in a soothing, overly doting manner.

“I think you’re a little distracted, Howzer,” you tell him with a fake frown.

“I’m sorry.” At least the apology seems profuse. “How would you like me to serve you, my lady?”

You pretend to take your time thinking thoughtfully over what you want him to do. But you already know. You spread your legs further.

“Slide my panties off…” Humming softly as he runs his hands on the outside of your thighs, slipping past your skirt and hovering over the waistband of your panties. You lean in further, nipping at his ear while one hand cradles his jaw. “...and eat.”

Something of a groan leaves his throat. His next words are barely a whisper, muttered against your skin when he leans in to finally get his fill, fulfill your request.

“As you wish…”

ragu list: @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @badbatchbabe @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @secondaryrealm @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @meshlaxbunny @followthepurrgil @wolffegirlsunite @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @aconstructofamind @padawancat97 @littlemissmanga @starqueensthings @anxiouspineapple99 @freesia-writes @wings-and-beskar @clio3kantarella @secretthegriffin @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel @dystopicjumpsuit @mandos-mind-trick @sunshinesdaydream @clonemedickix @andrakass2 @jesjestraverse @crosshairlovebot @wizardofrozz @ladyzirkonia @multi-fan-dom-madness @moonlightwarriorqueen @eyeluvmusic21 @mythical-illustrator @imarvelatthestars

[frenziedslashers]

C'mere, Honey-Bear

Pairing: Negan x GN!Reader

Warnings: No pronouns are used, but Negan uses a LOT of pet names. Established relationship, canon typical violence, swearing, sex - nothing real graphic, it's more just mentioned than anything. Negan loves you. OOC Negan, probably, idk. I was emotional and needed to write this.

REQUESTING INFO || TWD MASTERLIST

Negan had no idea what he was getting himself into when he ordered his men to line Rick and the others up. The night was still young, and Lucille was hungry. That was all he cared about for the time being.

"Well, well, well," He tutted after hearing some voices from the group try and protest the situation they were in. He loved seeing people on their knees for him. It gave him a sense of superiority. Like he was a King, and they were his peasants. Begging for mercy as his eyes jumped from face to face. Though he primarily focused on the men. Mapping out who he thought would be a problem. Like the big beefy red head that would totally kick him in the balls if he had the chance. Or the Asian kid, who he just knew would be a problem in the future.

He wanted to bash their brains in. It was who he was now, he couldn't help it. In this world is was truly kill or be killed, and he wasn't about to let some new comers step in and kill him. Not when he was the top dog of D.C. Fucking Washington D.C., what more could he ask for?

The whimpers were enough to have his hair stand on end. Crying as he he stepped upped to home plate. Ready to swing and hit that winning home run. All until he heard a little voice. A voice he completely thought he had imagined.

"Negan?"

It was so soft and feathery light. Like the person saying it was a mouse in his ear. He recognized it from somewhere, but he couldn't place where. It had been so long since he had heard that little scared voice.

"That's my name, don't wear it dry, honey," He sing-songed into the night air, eyes scanning every each and one of the faces before him. Until they landed on the one who dare speak his name. You. A face he hadn't seen in a long time. A face he thought only visited him in dreams.

Now, Negan was far from a touchy-feely guy when it came to nights like these. Nights where all he wanted to do was prove a point. These nights, he was all about busting balls and cracking skulls. But he was frozen.

His eyes were locked on you, Lucille lazily hanging in his hand. The tip of her head brushed the ground by his feet while his heart thumped in his chest. All he could hear was the beat of his own heart. It was like a drum pounding that wouldn't stop.

"You.." That was all he could say. Everyone was looking between the both of you. The tears that stained your cheeks, blood that equally stained your lips, and other portions of your face. You put up a hell of a fight with his men, but he still recognized that gorgeous face of yours.

"Sir," Negan held his hand up, quieting his men. It seemed to get him to gather his thoughts a bit more. His whole demeanor changed, and everyone in the area noticed. He went from Mr. "I got an itch to scratch and it's your head against my bat." To something none of his men had ever seen. Something softer. It scared some of them, even. What would his next move be? Would he pretend to like you and then hit that winning home run? Or would he drop the bat and forfeit the entire game? All because of one meek and tired voice, that called out his name into the night air.

He took quick steps over to you. Dropping to his knees in front of you. The King fell for what used to be his Majesty. His other half. He used to be your Knight, and you his Ruler, but things changed. The apocalypse happened. "I thought you died," he muttered, voice soft, only for you.

A cry fell from your lips, and by golly did he want to punch the nearest person to the left of him. Even if they weren't who made you cry, and it was all him. He hated seeing you do such a thing. "Negan," Hearing his name fall from your lips again made his heartache. He never thought he'd hear it again. His eyes fell shut briefly before the man reached out to touch the side of your face. "Baby, I'm so sorry," he frowned once you flinched away from him. You had never been scared of him in your years of being together, but here you were. Shivering like a mouse confronting an old Tom Cat.

"Negan, let them go, please, don't hurt us, this isn't you," He frowned deeper. You were right, this wasn't him. This was a charade he picked up in order to survive. "I'd never hurt you," he muttered, finally able to reach out and brush his knuckles over your cheek. "But who did? Was it one of my men?" He asked, and you nodded, a glare settling on his face. "Point to me baby, which one?" Once motioned, his eyes were locked on the man. "What have I said about hurting people before I see them?" Negan snapped at his man. The guy flinched at his harsh tone. "I'm sorry sir! They were fighting with me!" "And you're a big guy! You can't handle yourself without bloodying up an innocent person? My innocent person?" He snapped, noticing you flinch in front of him.

God, he didn't know what to do. He was still mad at Rick and the others for the damage they caused, but he knew you. He loved you. He never stopped loving you. Even when he thought you died he still kept that stupid ring and necklace that you got him. Along with a photo of you that he carried anywhere he went.

"Honey bear," he cooed, "Do they take care of you?" You sighed at the pet name, closing your eyes while pursing your lips. Nodding softly, "Yeah, they do." He hummed at your voice, reaching out to grab your hand which you squeezed back. Falling forward in order to wrap your arms around his neck.

Negan dropped Lucille in order to catch you. Holding you close while his men stared in shock. This wasn't like Negan at all. Any other person he found he'd be ridiculing them. Making fun of their future death or hitting on them and offering them a nice fuck if they were up to it. He was never this gentle. Never.

The sigh that he let out was loud. Everyone stared awkwardly and anxiously. Waiting for his next move. His eyes parted, still keeping you in his grasp. Negan looked at Rick with pursed lips, and a slight scowl on his face, but it was quick to fade. "You kept them safe?" He asked, and Rick nodded, "We all did. We're a family," Negan rolled his eyes. He didn't have time for a life story. Not when he just got you back. "Spare me your sob story, Prick," He spat, and felt you nudge him with your hand. A soft apology left his lips - another thing his men had never seen. "Well, I want to thank you," He spoke, genuine words that fell from his lips. Rubbing up and down your back in a comforting manner.

No one could believe what they were hearing. Rick was certain that someone was going to die that night, but maybe since you happened to come along for Maggie's sake, maybe you saved everyone. "Look, I'm still pissed about my men. Hell, you wiped out a lot of innocent people. But, I might just have to let that slide knowing that you kept my honey bear safe." You couldn't help but giggle lightly hearing the nickname again. Negan smiled while his eyes darted down to where your head was still buried in his shoulder.

God, he missed you.

"I thank you, really. I'd like to repay you by.. Not killing your people," Rick nodded, everyone seemed to ease up at that information. You as well. "Thank you," Negan held his hand up to stop the Officer. "Don't thank me yet, you still have time to prove me wrong. I still think you're a murderous psychopath. Anyone could be friendly enough to help a major hottie like my baby here," he grinned, "Negan, stop." You protested, and he snickered. He loved getting under your skin.

"So, I'd like to make a deal with you. We join forces, so long as you don't kill any more of my men. What's yours, is mine," he spoke, a stern look in his eyes. "But, with that being said, I'll help you with whatever you need, too. Protection? We got the men. Medical? We could arrange something. Women? Well, maybe not that," He spoke with a shit-eating grin. Finally pulling you both up to your feet, Lucille abandoned on the ground. His hands found better things to grab.

Rick nodded, swallowing thickly. "Thank you, we all appreciate it," Negan shrugged, he had better things to focus on. Holding the sides of your face with a grin as you smiled back up at him. "No need, Rick the Prick," You rolled your eyes at his words. "I found a better way to spend my night anyways," he hummed, his smile quickly growing mischievous. You felt your body heat up at the remark. Eyes darting to the side out of embarrassment. "Now, come on, darlin'. How about I show you my joint, I'm sure you'll love it! It's safe, and I can make you that pasta you used to slurp up faster than my dick!" You let out a groan, rolling your eyes for the millionth time, but your smile ceased to fade. "You still blurt the stupidest things, Neeg'..." You sighed, and he snickered. An arm came to rest around your waist as he walked you over to his truck. "Well," He shot a glare over to the man that busted your lip and gave you the scraped cheek. "I haven't really changed that much." he purred, leaning over to kiss the side of your head.

Once you were in the safety of his truck, Negan ordered his men to let the others go. Telling them to inform Rick that they'd be back a week max in order to keep their promise of working together. Along with you being able to visit your friends and maybe grab some of your things to move into Sanctuary with him. Hell, maybe he could move to Alexandria with you if he liked the place enough. Make it an even safer outpost for him and his men - along with your 'family'. Hey, maybe you two could start a family of your own. Adopt a kid - maybe a dog or cat if there were still any in this shithole world. It was sure something he'd love to talk about with you in the future. Once the both of you got cozied up wherever you both decided to stay, after all.

"Did you miss me?" His voice was lower, staring at his lap before looking back over at you. "Of course I did, Papa bear," He smiled at the nickname, "I never stopped thinking about you, or hoping that I'd find you. Hell, I told the rest that I came in order to make sure Maggie was safe, but honestly," You grabbed his hand with a sigh. "I was hoping and praying the Negan we were dealing with was you." His smile only grew at your words. "You're a big enough asshat to pull all this off." He rolled his eyes this time, letting out a sigh. "Hun, you give me too much credit."

He wished he had a little more faith that you were still alive and out there. You were in Atlanta, Georgia visiting your family when this all went down, though. You couldn't blame a guy for giving up after not seeing his lover in nearly twelve years. It took a toll on him, and he would beat himself up over it 'til the day he died.

"Did you miss me?" You shot the question back at him, and he was quick to grab both of your hands. Scooting closer to you since you were both in the back seat. "My gorgeous, gorgeous, flower, I never stopped thinking about you, Every mornin' I wake up I hope to wake up next to you. Your sleeping face all peaceful and shit. I hope each and every goddamn time when I get out of the shower you'll be standing there, looking yourself over in the mirror before showing me a new shirt ya got. I've missed you so goddamn much, you don't even know," He muttered, a hand reaching up to hold the side of your face. "Look," he stated, pulling the hand back to reach down his shirt, and pulling out the necklace with the ring attached to it. "I still have that stupid ring you got me on our three-year anniversary." He smiled, and you did the same, looking it over in awe. You couldn't believe that he still had it. "I thought you hated that ring?" You asked cheekily, and he shrugged. "Do you believe everything I say?" You giggled, shaking your head 'no'.

The moment that you both arrived at the safety of the compound, Negan was dragging you inside. A hand on your hip in order to show everyone that you were off limits. You were his lover, no one else's. "Let's get ya cleaned up, then we can go lay down. I'll show ya around tomorrow, how 'bout that, sweetie pie?" You nodded, leaning against his side with a sigh. "Thank you, handsome," he grinned, "Well, don't mention it. I still got a reputation to keep. Gotta keep these men working for me!"

His hands were soft as they helped you clean your face off once in his bathroom. Brows furrowed as he focused on cleaning your cuts and not hurting you more than the disinfectant did. Muttering soft 'sorry's anytime you flinched. You knew he didn't mean it, though. "Baby, I'm so sorry this happened to you, I never meant for you guys to go and get hurt yet, I-" "Yet?" He frowned, "Well, you guys killed a lot of my men. Ya can't blame me for wantin' some of ya dead in return?" You frowned, rubbing your fingers together a bit nervously. "Hun, I won't be hurting none of your people anytime soon. You have my word, I promise you that." He sighed, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

You pondered his words, but ultimately believed him. If he did break that promise you wouldn't know what to do, but you prayed that he wouldn't. You knew Negan hated seeing you upset, and you only hoped that he truly hadn't changed that much.

You reached up to hold the sides of his face, staring at him for a moment before leaning in. Finally giving in and kissing him. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you the moment he knew you were real and not just his mind playing tricks on him, but honestly. He was terrified that you hated him.

His hands dropped everything in them. One hand resting on the back of your head, the other gripping at your thigh as you rest seated on the bathroom counter. His hips slotted between your thighs. "God, I missed you so fucking much," He muttered against your lips. Both of your eyes shut while you each clung to one another. Sharing kiss after kiss until Negan had enough of standing.

The leader was quick to lift you off the counter. Carrying you by your thighs into the connected bedroom that he called his own. Lying you down on the bed while climbing on top of you. His kisses growing more feverish and hungry. He was like a starved man given a full meal for the first time in ages. Soft breaths bleeding with your own while his hands touched and groped at your body.

The moment that you were tugging at his shirt with a desperate need to remove it. It was gone. His jacket and shirt both shrugged and tugged off, thrown messily on the floor by the bed.

His body was more aged than the last time you did this with him. Scars and cuts littered his chest and stomach, your fingertips brushing over each one that your eyes saw. He only smirked a toothy grin, "Miss it?" You snorted, "You're still just as cocky," He hummed at your response, leaning down to kiss the side of your throat. "Oh, you know it, baby. I'll die cocky too."

He was quick at removing your own shirt next. Allowing both his hands and mouth to explore your skin. Groping your body while he got to work at kissing and sucking. Biting over your stomach in order to leave marks on you. He missed marking you up for the masses to see. Let everyone know that you were his. His. His. His.

The activities progressed. You and Negan showered each other with the affection that you both missed. Tossing and turning in bed while he fucked you like a madman and then vice versa. Both of your hips were sore by the time he got done with you. Each of your bodies covered in scratches, bites, and hickeys. He couldn't have asked for a better night. "Shit, honey bear," he panted, you laying on his chest while he stared up at the ceiling. "I forgot how much you wear me out," a breathy laugh left his throat, and you only sniggered. "Go ahead and get used to it, babe, I don't plan on this being a one-night thing." He snickered, excitement coursing his veins. "Good, because I wouldn't let you go without a fight, babe."

He couldn't believe that you were back in his life. That he was actually holding you in his arms. After you both gave each other the best night you both have had in years. He couldn't let go of you, not when he just got you back. His arms were tight around your body, keeping you close in order to make sure that when he woke up this wouldn't be a dream. That he wouldn't wake up to empty arms and a cold bed. He was almost too scared to go to sleep, but having you back in his arms was like taking a sedative. His eyes slowly falling shut while he pulled you a little closer. A soft 'goodnight, love' falling from his lips.

When you woke up, you were met by a soft smile and tired eyes. Negans hand resting gently on the side of your face. Brushing your cheek with his thumb. "Mornin' gorgeous," you felt your heart race just from hearing the sound of his groggy voice. Smiling back while reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck. Pulling him in for a lazy kiss. "Mornin', asshole," a soft chuckle left his throat, "That's how ya feel huh? gonna call me an asshole now when I'm fairly certain the whole compound heard you screaming my name last night?" Your skin felt hot at his words, but you weren't about to let him win. "Oh yeah? You weren't any quieter Mr. "Oh fuck, oh shit, right there, shit, faster baby!" He furrowed his brows with a pout. "I did not say that," "Oh, but you did," you cooed, kissing the corner of his lips. Pressing on his chest in order to get him to move on his back. Stradling his hips like you had the night prior.

He was quick to pull you in for another kiss before he said anything, though. Pulling your hips down to meet his own. Both of you released a moan into each other's mouths. "Man, I love you, you know that? Don't think I've ever met anyone who's as feisty and cocky as you, well, besides myself." He grinned, and you sighed, kissing his cheek before laying down on his chest. "I love you too, you asshole." You responded, which earned a soft chuckle from your lover beneath you. His hands rub softly at your back and sides. He swore at that moment, that he was truly the happiest man on the face of the earth. If not that, then he was definitely the luckiest.

[doyouknowbtsswag]

Soonie Doongie and Dori |Lee Know|

I knocked on Minho's door holding a bag of cat treats. A few seconds later I heard footsteps coming from inside. The door unlocked showing Minho in sweatpants and a sweatshirt.

"What's up?" He asked. "Didn't know you were coming over"

"I didn't either till I went into a pet store and grabbed your children's treats"

"We'll come in it's cold out," He said opening the door more.

When I walked in I saw Soonie looking at me. He meowed softly and walked over to me as Minho took the bag from me. I picked up the orange cat and walked to the living room seeing the other two laying on the couch. Soonie jumped out of my arms and into the floor. I saw a cat toy and sat on the ground.

"So what did you need?" Minho asked looking at me.

"Your cats" I replied starting to play with them.

"As if," He said grabbing a fake mouse and joining in on the fun.

"One of these days when you're on tour I'll sneak in and get them"

"I don't think so" He smiled picking up Dori and kissing the cat on his cheek. "They love me too much"

"Sure" I teased.

"I can kick you out"

"Sorry sorry" I giggled and grabbed the laser pointer. I stood up and pointed it at the couch. All three cats jumped up and tried getting the light. I pointed it at Minho who checked his phone for a second.

"Hey" Minho smiled having all his cats on top of him. He hugged them all as they tried to escape his grasp. He let them go and they went to play on their own.

"They're too cute" I smiled and pet Dori.

"You hungry?" Minho asked standing up and walking to the kitchen. "I have leftovers"

"I wouldn't mind some food"

"Good I need to get rid of it," He said heating up the food. "Thank you for bringing over the treats"

"Anything for my best friend" I smiled.

"You're too kind"

"I meant the cats" I teased making him punch the side of my arm.

"Hey what was that for," I said over dramatically.

"Here's your food," He said placing it on the table.

"Thank you," I said as we both sat down at the table.

"What have you been up to?" He asked.

"Work," I said while eating. "All work"

"Nothing else?" He asked. "I thought you were looking into going back to university?"

"I'm still not sure if I want to" I sighed.

"Why?" He asked.

"Too much work" I whined placing my head on the table.

"I think you should if you want to get the master's degree so you can get a better job"

"I know"

"I can't stand your boss by the way"

"I know you've told me"

"He overworks you I don't like it," He said.

"It's okay Min," I said picking my head back up. "Plus you overwork yourself all the time"

"That's why I don't like it because I know how it feels."

"You really know how to cheer people up"

"Let's go feed them the treats you brought," He said standing up.

I nodded and stood up walking over to the bag and following Minho to the living room. He sat down and patted the spot next to him. You sat next to him opening the treat bag. You laughed seeing Doongie attack Minho for the small treat in his hand. We played with the cats with Minho chatting about his upcoming comeback.

"Do you need a ride back?" Minho asked the moon high in the sky.

"I'll be fine, you need rest for tomorrow so get sleep okay?" I smiled.

"Yeah" He smiled. "By the way, I'm going on your soon, I'll let you take care of my cats instead of my parents"

"Really?!"

"They seem to like you more and more every time you stop by"

"We'll I like them more and more too" I smiled. "Bye Min"

"Bye," He said.

I waved goodbye to my best friend starting to walk home as it wasn't too far.

[pierrotwrites-hc]

Chapter 43 Sneak Peak

Being locked away in the back of the cart brought back memories of the cell at the training house. Only this time Luca wasn’t the one in pain; Doran was. Somehow, that was so much worse.

Doran spent the next few days feverish, drifting in and out of consciousness. He called out for Annie, for Connell’s mother, for his own. Once even the Duke.

“Infected,” said Connell grimly, surveying the festering mess of Doran’s back. “I’ll need to flush the wounds. Can you hold him down?”

Luca’s new muscle might’ve horrified the Steward, but he still wasn’t strong enough to restrain Doran on his own. The kind guard—his name was Saunders—took hold of Doran’s other arm and braced a knee against his thigh.

Luca had hoped Doran would be too delirious to feel the antiseptic burn through raw tissue, but no luck. He thrashed and bellowed, insensate with pain. Luca grit his teeth and tightened his grip.

The memory came, unbidden, of holding Asher down for Master Boq. Luca pushed it away. He could only hope that Doran would forgive him.

(Luca didn’t hope for forgiveness from Asher. He didn’t deserve it.)

At last, Doran passed out. They shared a sigh of relief. Connell was able to seal the now-clean wounds with pine sap. Already the inflammation was receding.

“You’re a medic, eh?” said the guard, impressed. “Didn’t know they trained slaves for healing. You’ve a deft hand, lad.”

Connell’s ears went pink. Through the haze of guilt and exhaustion, Luca was pleased for him. Connell was brilliant. He deserved to have his gifts acknowledged.

Doran healed more quickly than any of them had dared hope. But something had changed in him. He filled the cart with brooding silences. Luca tried to tell himself that Doran was just in pain, but he knew the hurt went deeper. More than his back had been rent by the whipping. His pride was damaged—and that not even Connell could heal.

Doran’s discontent found an easy outlet in outrage on Luca’s behalf. The Steward insisted on replicating the conditions of the seray as much as possible. Luca was allowed out of the cart only at night, and only to relieve himself. No one was allowed to speak to him, and he was, of course, forbidden to speak without permission.

That’s a kindness, isn’t it, hole? You’ve nothing to say that’s worth hearing.

The first week in the cart, Doran was too out of it to notice how Luca was being treated. How little he was being fed. But it was only a matter of time before Doran heard Luca’s traitorous stomach growl and decided to do something about it.

The next time a guard came with their meals, Doran pushed himself up on his elbow, ignoring Luca’s noise of alarm. He watched through narrowed eyes as the guard set down their rations: a flat loaf of millet bread for Doran, and a crust for Luca.

“Where’s the rest of Luca’s portion, sir?” Doran asked.

The guard shrugged.

“Steward’s orders. He says General Balkas let the Golden Bird get fat.”

The moment the doors slammed shut, Doran exploded.

“Fat! What, because you weigh a little more than your shadow now? Fields of hell, Mouse, that bastard can’t expect you to survive on so little.”

Luca had survived on less, but he wasn’t about to tell that to Doran. It wouldn’t improve his mood.

(Besides, he wasn’t hungry. Funny; hunger had been his companion for most of his life. Now it had deserted him. All that was left was a hollow, void of feeling.)

“Here,” said Doran, breaking off a lump of bread. “You eat that.”

Luca took what he was given. He didn’t want to fight.

When Doran wasn’t looking, he tore the bread in half and tucked the uneaten portion away.

Redditch met General Gaskin with rather less than the expected fanfare. Lieutenant Davies—no, General Davies now, though Gaskin would always see him as a puffed-up little boy with a receding hairline—was holed up in his quarters and refused to greet Gaskin in person.

“Refused” was perhaps a strong word; Davies had sent a fulsomely apologetic letter with his secretary, a spiderlike man with a mouth pinched in what Gaskin suspected was a permanent expression of distaste. But Gaskin knew a refusal when he saw one.

No doubt Davies resented Gaskin’s presence at Redditch. No doubt he surmised—correctly—that it indicated a lack of faith in his leadership.

Had Davies the courtesy to meet him in person, Gaskin would have reassured him that his arrival did not herald a changing of the guard. He would stay at Redditch only long enough to refit his own men and collect supplies for the Enkaaran Legion. During that time, he had intended to do Davies the favor of deferring to him. Or at least appearing to.

But Davies had decided to lock himself in his room like a child. Well, let him stew. Gaskin may only be staying at Redditch for as long as it took to refit and restock, but while he was here, the garrison would answer to his orders and his orders alone.

While Gaskin was busy playing new-crowned King of Redditch, Tris took advantage of his master’s distraction to commandeer Binns.

Binns was not happy to be commandeered. Then again, he never was. It grated on him to take orders from a slave. This was why Tris so enjoyed issuing them.

“Take me to the forge,” he ordered, and watched with amusement as Binns’s face turned colors.

Binns protested, of course—the forge was no place for a pleasure slave, never mind one owned by the most powerful General in Solas—but he knew as well as Tris who held the power here. At last he gave in, on the condition that Tris wear a woolen wrap to protect him from the lascivious eyes of the forgeworkers.

Tris didn’t mind the wrap. It served his purpose to give Binns these little victories. Besides, Redditch was bloody freezing.

At the forge, cold and hot pressure systems converged. At once the wrap felt oppressive. Sweat prickled unpleasantly at his nape. Ignoring Binns’s protests, Tris pulled the wrap down, baring his face.

The reaction was less than he might’ve hoped for. The smiths were either running to and fro or bent over their anvils, hammering madly; they were too busy to look at him. When Tris approached a laborer to ask whether he knew a smith named Finn, the man pointed him to a slave hunched over his anvil at the far end of the forge without more than a fleeting (but, Tris consoled himself, admiring) glance.

He supposed it was to be excepted. Gaskin had ordered new weapons be made for the Enkaaran fleet; the forgeworkers were understandably preoccupied. Besides, that idiot Balkas probably had Luca running errands all over the garrison. No doubt the forgeworkers are used to visits from beautiful courtesans.

Pity. Beautiful courtesans should never be taken for granted.

As Tris approached the slave at the anvil at the far side of the forge, he felt a twinge of unease. The man was big enough to be a barbarian. (Well, a normal-sized barbarian. Tris had always suspected Luca was some sort of mutant.) His shovel-sized hand was wrapped around a hammer, and he brought it down on the red-hot metal on his anvil with enough force to shake the earth.

Apparently Tris wasn’t the only one discomfited by the smith’s strength. He was chained like a dog to his anvil. Had he tried to run?

Tris shivered, and not from the cold. He reminded himself that Aram said they shouldn’t think about running until it was time. They should look at freedom only from the corner of their eye, as if it were the sun on a clear day. Otherwise it could blind them.

The smith—Finn—looked up, and Tris’s unease melted away. His face was broad, sooty, good-humored, with laughing eyes and a mouth that turned up at the corners.

“Don’t tell me you’re another one from Highcourt,” said Finn, grinning. “Come to have your golden collar swapped out?”

“My collar is silver,” said Tris, pulling down his collar to show the gleam. “And I’ve come from Breakwater, not Highcourt.”

“Well, that makes a change.” Finn wiped his hands on his apron, leaving streaks of soot. “What can I do for you, lovely?”

Tris took the funny little box from his tunic.

“My friend asked me to give this to you. He says he solved your puzzle.”

“Your friend?” said Finn, furrowing his brow. Then the coin dropped. “Luca? You know him?”

“We’re colleagues,” said Tris, annoyed. Did this drudge not recognize a pleasure slave when he saw one?

“Yeah. Right.” Finn looked down at the puzzle box. A slow grin broke over his face. “Thank you.”

“I don’t do it to be thanked,” said Tris grandly.

As Tris allowed Binns to herd him back to Gaskin’s quarters, he caught sight of carts at the gate, their contents unloaded by rag-clad peasants. The peasants had that drawn, starved look, and Tris wondered—not for the first time—whether he ought to be glad his mother had been sold after her parents lost their the farm. Slaves were fed, at least, however meagerly.

For a moment, Tris thought he saw a familiar face—so familiar, in fact, that he felt a phantom pain in his nose from an all-too-well-remembered fist. Then it was gone, and Tris was left wondering what in the name of all the gods Asher Lacey was doing at Redditch.

[theflyingfeeling]

Thirteenth Day of Gift-Giving: Characters

Prompt: A student who keeps falling falls asleep in the library

Ta-da! It's a University/College AU! With a surprise guest! 🥰

~

With a mix of horror and worry, Aleksi watched Robin sip his at RedBull: as far as he was concerned, the guy didn't need any more energy than the amount he was born with.

“So! The deadline for the project is…” Robin said, scrolling on his computer mouse vigorously. 

“In four and half weeks,” Aleksi filled him in with a subtle sigh. He knew Robin preferred to take his sweet time due to his dyslexia, but even still, Aleksi thought starting the preparations for their upcoming presentation a month in advance was a tad too early.

“Brilliant! We’re right on schedule. Should we start with collecting the background literature? I recently discovered this amazing database with audio aids that I think we could definitely–”

Robin’s sentence was cut short when the door to the study pod they had booked for the afternoon opened and in walked an exhausted-looking character who Aleksi had longed to see the whole day – never mind the fact he had woken up right next to him that very morning.

"Oh! Hi there," he greeted the newcomer, who proceeded to move Aleksi’s backpack on the floor and almost collapsed on the bench Aleksi was sitting on, making himself a nest of the flannel jacket Aleksi had laid there. Without saying a word, the silent character rested his head on Aleksi’s lap and nuzzled his cheek against Aleksi's thigh before exhaling deeply and closing his eyes.

Looking back up to his coursemate, Aleksi saw Robin’s eyes round with confusion at the sudden appearance of the intruder.

“My boyfriend,” Aleksi told him. Only then it occurred to him that during the many discussions he had had with Robin about their lives in and outside university throughout the semester, the topic of relationships had never come up before. Mentally Aleksi crossed his fingers and toes in hopes of Robin not having a problem with Aleksi dating a guy, even if nothing in his behaviour had ever implied such a thing.

“Ah!” The creases on Robin’s forehead disappeared the instant he heard Aleksi’s explanation. “Right. Anyway! The database I found is suuuuuuuper helpful, I think you should take a look, hold on, let me email you the link…”

Aleksi couldn’t hold back the relieved smile and let Robin babble on about this new ‘treasure trove’ he had discovered. In the meantime, Aleksi slid a hand under the table and into his boyfriend’s hair, giving his scalp a few gentle rubs.

“You alright?” he asked under his voice, glancing down at Olli.

“Tired. Headache.”

Olli’s answer made Aleksi easen his touch on Olli immediately, softly caressing his head instead of massaging it.

“Hungry?”

Olli nodded.

“There’s a Tupla bar in my backpack.”

The prospect of getting some sugar in his system had Olli sitting up with sluggish movements to rummage Aleksi’s backpack in search of the promised chocolate. Once he had located it, he tore the package in half with a snap and gave the other half to Aleksi. 

On the other side of the table, Robin was looking at them, his eyebrows tilted with concern. 

“Do you wanna take a break or…”

“No, it’s fine,” Aleksi reassured him, then nudged Olli. “We’re working on an assignment, so I can meet you later if you wanna go–”

“Can I stay?” Even with a mouth full of sweet chocolate, Olli’s voice sounded downright miserable.

Aleksi glanced at Robin, who shrugged. In Aleksi’s books it was as good as yes.

“Sure, if you’d rather. I don’t know how long we’ll take and how comfortable you’ll be able to make yourself here though, but–”

“Would this be of help? For lack of a blanket.” Over the table, Robin was passing his woollen scarf, so large that one could barely see his face when he had it wrapped around his neck.

Touched by Robin’s gesture, Aleksi flashed him a small smile. “That’ll do, I think. Thanks.”

Aleksi turned back to Olli just in time to witness him licking his fingers clean off melted chocolate. The sight was mesmerising, but for Robin’s sake, Aleksi forced himself to look away and open the email Robin had just sent him to keep himself focused on their project instead of daydreaming about tending to his boyfriend later that night.

Having finished his snack, Olli unfolded the scarf Robin had offered him and pulled it on himself as he lay down on the bench again, using Aleksi’s thigh as his pillow. If Aleksi hadn’t scheduled this group-work meeting with Robin weeks ago already, he would’ve ditched his coursemate on the spot to take Olli home and laze about in bed next to him until he’d feel more like himself again. Now, with Olli already on the verge of dozing off on him, he had to settle for just playing with Olli’s soft curls until he could feel Olli’s breathing becoming deeper and less frequent. When Aleksi was sure Olli was sound asleep, he caressed Olli’s temple one last time with his thumb and went back to business with Robin.

~*~

It was ten minutes to the closing time of the library when Aleksi finally had the heart to nudge Olli awake – or rather pamper him awake, by stroking his forearm with enough force to rouse him, yet gently enough to not alarm him too suddenly.

Rubbing his eyes, Olli turned to his back and looked up at Aleksi.

“Feeling any better?”

“A little.”

Aleksi moved his hand to pet Olli’s belly as the man’s sleepy eyes travelled around the study pod.

“Where’s your friend?”

“Robin just left.” Aleksi didn’t think it necessary to tell Olli that ‘just’ in this context meant ‘nearly an hour ago’.

“He forgot his scarf.”

“Yeah, I’ll give it back to him tomorrow.” In truth, Aleksi had tried to give it back to Robin earlier, but Olli’s grip on his makeshift blanket had been so tight that Robin had told him not to worry about it. To make up for having Robin walk back home in -10 degrees with no scarf, Aleksi had insisted Robin should take the remaining half of his chocolate bar, having to practically throw it at him when the man kept refusing the gesture, overly polite (and just frustratingly nice) as he was.

Still visibly minding his head and neck, Olli sat up, his curls all tangled from Aleksi’s fingers having fondled them for hours. His face was sleepy and soft, and Aleksi would’ve pulled him in for a kiss if he hadn’t just seen the campus library guard doing rounds at the other end of the corridor. He gave Olli a quick peck on the corner of his mouth instead. 

“Home?” he suggested. A light lit up in Olli’s eyes; a small smile tugged on the corner of his lips where Aleksi’s had just kissed him.

“Please,” Olli answered, stealing a kiss from Aleksi in return.

[themarginalthinker]

Epicenter

'1906, when the big one hit San Francisco, this place took a header, right into the crack. Now it's ours.'

-

Sleep all day, party all night, ever grow old and never die. Vampirism indeed had its perks.

Those were of course the obvious ones. There was also the ability to stuff yourself with more substances than could kill a bull elephant and get up the next night perfectly fine (if perhaps walking a little wobbly.) You could hear a mouse's heartbeat from half a mile away (if you really wanted to, and if your packmates would stop projecting that stupid fucking song into your head for half a fucking minute.) You could even fly!

That one really did have basically no downsides, save for being a mite hungry after an extended time in the air. Nothing above you but stars and the moon, falling upwards into a velvet void, while the world dissipated below. Weightless. Careless.

The senses made for things humans didn't need.

David supposes it's why he could tell something was off enough to rouse him from the daysleep only moments before it happened.

One moment he was unconscious, drifting, in that space were dreams have ended and there is only rest, and the next, his eyes are snapping wide open, and staring at the far wall like he expects it to come forward and hit him.

In fact, maybe some part of his brain actually does expect that. There was a tension in the back of his head, and it was pulling tighter and tighter with ever second, his claws digging into the bar above him, unable to make sense of what was happening when a sudden pit of move now, move now, MOVE NOWNOWNOW- dropped like a lead weight in his chest.

"UP!" He shouted, reaching to the side. "UP, NOW!"

He hits Dwayne first, closest to him, who startles awake enough at the hard physical contact, but the moment he returns to consciousness, the shrieking in David's head enters his own, and he's moving like lighting. No questions, no panic, (thank god, David doesn't know what he'd do without Dwayne's steadiness to calm his own flighty anxiousness at times...) Just pure, concentrated action.

Dwayne flips around, reaching out and shoving Marko and Paul, arms locked around each other. Again, the moment they wake, they're like skittering animals in each other's heads.

Well, Paul is anyway.

Marko, on the other hand, has a moment of fear, bleeding over from David and Dwayne and Paul, and then it's almost like...expectation settles over his features. A calmness that seems almost incongruous with the rest. Much like Dwayne, anyway, he's a pragmatist, and doesn't give way to panic.

The four of them don't waste time, however. David is first down, swinging to catch his hands on the roosting bars and swing around to land in a crouch on the ground. The others follow, Dwayne landing like a cat, Marko bounding a few times as he lands, and Paul somehow managing all his gangly limbs in something almost graceful.

They're out of the crawl space in seconds, speed being the key. They can't be in the enclosed space.

Luckily, it's far enough in the day that the long hours of afternoon are passed, and the sunlight can't get through the few cracks in the 'roof' of the hotel atrium. It's dark, but they aren't going to be lighting any fires.

The pack gathers upwards, towards the ceiling, perching on an old beam. Not on the floor, not in the shadows of the old, massive marble pillars. They sit, claws digging into cracks in the stone.

A second ticks by. Then another. That feeling builds in David's head, like a breath inwards but too much, twice as long.

And then it breaks.

The the fist of an angry god, like the world itself fracturing, it shakes.

Paul cries out, and Marko reaches out to steady him. Dwayne presses against David, who presses back, keeping each other from tumbling even with their grips. Like someone had gripped the Earth as if it were a card table and then violently started to push and pull at it, the stone under them jerked. Plumes of dust and dirt rained down from the ceiling, little rocks bouncing off their heads. Below, their trinkets and baubles rattled and crashed against each other - something deep in the back of the caves crashing and David hears Paul's distant hope that a nook where he stored his stuff hadn't collapsed.

And....it's over. A single, frantic movement of the world, and then it's over.

Marko and Paul don't let go of each other, blinking. David pulls away from Dwayne, and takes an immediate look around.

There are still wafts of dirt shimmying from the ceiling, letting in a dangerous bit of light (to a human it would be imperceptible, but for David and his, it spells a nasty burn if they're not careful.) There are more roots hanging down, displaced. Some of the rock formations that held up the shape of the cave have shifted, and at one side, a marble column that had fallen at an angle years and years ago, had now fully collapsed to the ground. (So much for the books Dwayne had stashed under it...)

But. No one was hurt. Nothing had been lost that couldn't be dug out, or dusted off, or done without.

David breathes a sigh. Finally, the tension was gone.

"Just call you Mister Richter, huh?" Marko says.

David rolls his eyes.

[eksvaized]

[ 𝖕𝖔𝖎𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖘 𝖔𝖇𝖘𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓 ] — 5

>> Ghost x Reader, part SIX

>> 18+

>> this was inspired by the tv show 'you'

Simon returned inside shortly after, but he didn’t approach you for the next hour. He could have marched towards you because it was easy to spot you in the crowd, on the dance floor, Liz by your side as you danced together, laughing and twirling around. But he wanted to watch you, observe the way you act since studying your behavior, especially if you decide to drink, will reveal to him much more than only a simple conversation would.

He stayed in the dark corner, where no one could bother him, but from where he could see you.

He watched as you moved your hips side to side, your arms wrapped around Liz as the two of you danced together. He realized he wasn’t the only one whose eyes you caught, and most, if not all, of the men in the club, had their hungry gazes drawn to you, looking over their shoulders, smirking, and sometimes even trying to get close to you and Liz, but even if you weren’t successful at diverting unwanted attention, Liz was, so neither of you were bothered for too long.

“Hello, you.” Someone purred into his ear, fingers brushing up his arm, giving his bicep a light squeeze, ensuring that his focus was drawn away from the dance floor.

Simon arched his brow and turned to the side. Mandy was standing next to him, batting her lashes at him. Her red lips curled into a smile.

“Hi.” He replied. If she was any other girl, he would have shoved her away, but she was your friend and no matter what she wanted, Simon was willing to put up with her because he didn’t want to risk getting on her bad side.

The problem was that Mindy didn’t want just to talk. She couldn’t comprehend how a plain mouse like you could capture his interest.

“I saw you here, all alone.” She kept speaking, her fingers eventually slipping down and her hand retreating back to her side. “And I figured I could keep you company, make sure you’re entertained and not bored.”

Even though all he wanted to do was get away from her, Simon forced himself to smile.

There was nothing about Mindy that he liked . She was too cocky, too self-absorbed and definitely too confident. She came up to him, expecting to win him over instantly, because no man had ever turned her down. Of course, there was always a first time for everything and Simon was going to prove to her that her looks alone would not make him fold and fall to his knees.

“Ah, how nice of you, but I’m fine on my own, really.” He wanted to turn her down, but he knew he had to be gentle. She was going to get mad and frustrated, but he didn’t want her to be furious because she was part of your life. She was someone who could influence you and turn you against him.

“Let me buy you a drink at least.” Mandy refused to give up. She was too stubborn to recognize Simon’s lack of interest in her.

He shook his head, reverting his eyes away from her. His gaze was drawn to the dance floor.

Liz was gone, and you were all alone , but you didn’t seem to care. Your eyes were closed, your fingers running through your hair as you swayed your hips. The music took hold of you, its rhythm and melody coaxing your body into a state of relaxation.

Simon could not tear his eyes off of you. He was mesmerized by your beauty, by the way you effortlessly moved your body with grace and allure, shutting out the noise of the world.

He continued to entertain Mandy, who was still bent on sticking around. There was nowhere to run, and he was pretty sure that even if he got rid of her, she would inevitably find her way back to him.

However, when Simon saw a man approach you, whisper something into your ear and you shook your head, smiling politely as you replied, his body tensed.

He didn’t want to overreact, even if his intuition told him he should. He kept his feet glued to the ground, refusing to let his impulses and emotions rule him.

But then, when you pushed the stranger away for the second time, trying to tear his hand away from your body and he still refused to move aside, Simon knew he couldn’t leave you to fend for yourself. You needed help. You needed Simon to intervene and save you.

“I think I see Y/N. I’m going to be right back,” He turned to face Mindy, who was still running her mouth. “She told me to find her .”

Mindy’s lips parted in confusion, and her eyes darted around, getting darker and angrier. She didn’t like that Simon ditched her for you, but before she could grab his hand and make him stop, he was already forcing his way through the crowd, pushing past, determined to get to the dance floor as soon as possible.

“Is everything all right here?” Simon asked when he reached you and the stranger.

Your back was turned to him, but when you looked over your shoulder, he could see a relief wash over your face.

“Yea, yea. Everything is fine. You can move along, buddy.” The man said, causing Simon’s jaw to tighten as he clenched his fists.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” He spat before shifting his gaze to you.

You just nodded your head, but Simon knew you wanted to get away from the stranger, so he placed his hand on the back of your waist, and after glaring at the man one last time, he gave you a gentle push.

Simon led you towards the bars, and you made sure to stay close to him.

“This is the second time you saved me.” You pointed out and leaned against the bar.

“Well, I guess that then, instead of one, you owe me two drinks now.” He smiled at you and giggled, nodding your head.

“Sounds fair.”

But he only let you buy him one glass of whiskey. And the second time you ordered drinks, he paid for both of you.

You two talked and flirted  He often had to lean down and speak into your ear, so you could hear what he was saying. His warm breath tickled your skin.

When his hand would brush across your waist or when his fingers trailed down your arm, a shiver would run down your spine. And maybe it was just all the cocktails you had, but the more you chatted with him, the more you liked him.

“Aren’t your friends going to be mad that you ditched them for me?” He asked, sipping his drink.

“No,” You looked around, shaking your head. Mindy was nowhere to be found, and Liz was chatting with some strangers at their table. “They often abandon me anytime an attractive guy flirts with them, so I assume it’s my turn to do so.”

You and he had another hour to spend together before Mindy and Liz approached you. Apparently, they were bored and wanted to go home, and insisted that you come as well.

“Good friends don’t leave their girlfriends alone at the club with some stranger they just met,” Mindy replied with a smile, but her words had a sarcastic undertone as if she didn’t care about you and her only goal was to lure you away from him.

If Mindy couldn’t have Simon, she didn’t want you to have him, either.

Simon didn’t want to say goodbye just yet, but he also realized he couldn’t force you to stay.

Before you left, you asked him for his phone, which he handed to you. You entered your phone number and returned it to him.

“Call me.” You said. “Because I still owe you one drink.”

He watched as you, Mindy, and Liz exited the club and followed shortly after, but by the time he got outside, the three of you were gone already.

He decided to smoke before calling a cab and going home, but while he was enjoying the fresh air, relieved to finally escape the deafening awful music, and be outside, the stranger, who had been causing problems for you earlier, approached him.

“You stole my girl.” He stated, pointing his finger at Simon, struggling to keep standing still and wobbling from side to side; Simon could tell that he was heavily inebriated.

He didn’t entertain the man, but the stranger didn’t leave and kept pushing and pushing, annoying him more and more.

“Shut up and go before I break your nose,” Simon warned, pulling his phone out.

While his gaze was glued to the screen, the stranger stepped closer and, because he was too drunk and too confident, he shoved Simon, using all his strength.

Simon inhaled sharply, not moving. But when he was pushed the second time, all his control went out of the window and he punched the stranger.

His fist collided with the man’s nose once. Then twice. He kept punching him and the man eventually lost his balance, falling to his knees, but that didn’t stop Simon. He just kept going and going  His hands were bloody, his knuckles itched and his breaths were irregular, messy and uneven.

As adrenaline coursed through his veins, Simon's vision became distorted, blurring the world around him and heightening his senses. It didn’t help that he couldn’t stop thinking about you too, because he kept imagining what the man would have done to you if he hadn’t interfered.

What if the stranger would have followed you home? What if he would have done something and Simon wouldn't have been there to stop him?

Simon only drew back when whispers and murmurs reached his ears. The crowd was gathering around them, pointing fingers and talking about the scene in front of them.

Despite his mind being in disarray, Simon's ability to observe made him acutely aware of how terrible everything looked. He was beating up a guy who, at this point, wasn’t even attempting to defend himself.

He took a step back, allowing the stranger’s body to collapse to the ground. His breath became trapped in his throat, and a wave of remorse swept over him as if someone dumped a bucket full of cold water over his head. The man wasn’t moving. Was he still breathing?

No, no, no.

He can’t be dead.

Simon refused to let the same story repeat itself. He refused - didn’t want - to do something he had done before.

He got down on his knees and moved the man onto his back. And from up close, he could see the stranger’s chest slowly rise and fall.

He was breathing.

And even if Simon broke a couple of his ribs and left his face bloody, at least he was still alive.

Before someone could call the police or attract the attention of the club’s security, Simon got out of there, leaving the guy to lay on the cold concrete.

Only after crossing the street did he dare to turn around and look back - someone was kneeling beside the stranger, someone was going to help.